Diving through the air, freely changing my direction, light as a feather, I feel almost good, almost giddy at having negotiated something of a truce, a surrender, an almost granting of asylum. One thing I don’t feel good about is that it’s almost dawn, and Boetah and Shaylon aren’t here yet, nor within telepathic range. I can’t wait any longer, because I don’t want the Dormir to be fighting their way down from the top, and facing the entire horde gathered within the stronghold. Taking a deep breath, and sighing, I let myself drop as I approach the front gates as it were. A tunnel with a solid iron door and murder holes looks my way.

My Lady either expected Shield and Aegis to break this down, or for it to pose no problem to me. I’ve been slowly casting Steely Body to save S P since over half of an hour ago, wanting it to land just before dawn. Approaching the gated area, sure enough, crossbow bolts and flames begin sailing my way. I can entirely ignore them, thanks to my telekinetic shield of three T K Ss. There are some cries of shock and confusion from the defenders within the ShizTinth stronghold when nothing even hits this adamantite golem stomping its way up the path to their front door.

I could blow this door open, or perhaps pound it down, but that would take so much more effort, or so much longer than one simple spell that I haven’t really ever gotten to use. I cast bypassed-wall from my Archsorc staff, and simply stride through a now twenty foot wide, eight foot tall opening. That should be enough for Shaylon to get through, their form is fairly slender. I’m not sure about Boetah, but there’s so much less matter on the door now, that Boetah can probably bowl through the rest of it.

Deep breath Reggie, exhale slowly, smoothly. Holy halefire double-barreled wrist crossbow at close range, rapid fire, while slashing out with Frostburn is going to end a lot of lives. Keep your eyes closed, just follow your Silent Sonar. I pound the faces of several melee Draconiacs rushing me from a murder-hall on my right, knocking them back and shocking them with E S Ps, dazing them. Sensing about six spellslingers preparing runes, I grab three of them with telekinesis, and use them to bludgeon the other three as I’m firing my crossbow into someone wielding a firearm. Likely stolen from the Derbrightmine Dominion by Olashax’s minions, the few that survived and fled.

With the kobold spellslingers dazed, I telekinetically draw one after the other towards me, and simply slash at these kobolds at neck level, or stab at their sternums. I continue moving into the stronghold, ignoring the melee forces that begin gathering behind me as I occasionally telekinetically grip one and fling them longways into one another, causing them to frequently stumble or have to stampede around or over a fallen ally. I casually aim my crossbow backwards and fire blindly, rapid-fire, not even wanting to know of its effectiveness when I’m aiming approximately head level for kobolds, gut level for Draconiacs and the few humans.

One human begins growing, shapeshifting into a dragon, but while she’s an adult dragon for certain, she’s a young adult at best. I hate myself for it, but I simply carve open her neck and torso mid-transformation, rip out her heart, and eat it, absorbing what little dragonforce there was within it. Not long after, another human, a male, begins shapeshifting, and I don’t even let his transformation get far enough to determine, because I don’t want to know. I nearly behead him, though Frostburn bounces slightly off of his spine during my rightward slash. I’m not quite powerful enough to sever dragon bones with my swings. Their skin is almost as tough as their scales in their human forms, but enchanted weaponry reduces its effective compression, density, durability. Opening his chest, I grab another dragon heart, feeling like a grotesque monster for ripping open chests and eating hearts. I still consume it regardless.

Now that assembled forces have seen me casually slay and eat dragons, as they’re calling the entire stronghold to alarms, I announce myself, “I am Reggie Shellcracker, Hero of the Order of the Onyx Dawn, archmage Aliased Schism, and the Void Dragon Honoris Causa! If you stand down, I will grant you mercy. If your leaders Shiz and Tinth surrender, I will see you all treated fairly! If you attack me, your life will end in a blink. I can at least show you the mercy of a quick death. Announce my presence, and my challenge to your leaders!”

There’s a mix of scrabbling, chaos amongst the horde, confusion on whether to comply, which in some cases, is getting them shanked by their more loyal allies, to flee, or to fight me. Most that continue to fight me, I simply ignore, unless they sling spells. I’m worried if I should happen across any Psions. I wonder if I could empower my void about my cranium to absorb psionic energy incoming, preventing it from reach me, or dampening or reducing its effects somehow. I’ll try experimenting, but I’m not holding my breath. Okay, I mean, I am actually holding my breath, to leap around more nimbly, but that’s not what I meant.

If I get hit with a brainblast, I’ll see if I have enough willpower to use the Q C R number one, and see if it reduces the effectiveness of a psion if I suddenly have three brains instead of one. Regardless, melee to the left of me, ice mage to the right. I hop into the air slightly, create a T K S to my left, swing my legs around leftward and kick off, dashing horizontally in the air over a torrent of icy spikes that had just been conjured, and I let Frostburn pass through the neck of the Draconiac ice mage.

I’m almost to what I might consider a second floor within this cave structure, when I hear Atter’s voice booming, “I am not an enemy, I have surrendered to Reggie Shellcracker, Hero of your Order, your Schism has entered the stronghold. I beg you honor your Schisms mercy offered to me and my clan!”

Hm, The Loud indeed. Casting about my telepathic senses, I try to send out to Boetah and Shaylon, “She’s telling the truth. Honor the deal I’ve struck with her, protect her if anyone from ShizTinth tries to attack her for admitting her surrender. Feel free to join me in here. It’s basically a rout, the first floor only has melee forces and a few archers left. I’m moving upwards. I leave it to your discretion whether to slay them all, or follow along after me. Though I’d like Shaylon by my side before I stumble into a nest of Psions or other similarly powerful mage types. Oh—. Busy. Catch up.”

It’s one of the first times I’ve had to switch to Q C R number three, Necrometal, and I did it just in time to activate the necro-dampening aura. Half a dozen kobold necromancers are standing beyond walls of meat that might be flesh golems, and they’re carefully summoning necrotic blasts that start in the tiniest gaps in the golems coverage. Now I’m being swarmed by too many melee foes to ignore as they clamber atop me. Huff. Fireball.

Another seventh of the staff’s charges down for today. I might see if I can summon F F S again from the elemental plane beside ours. Oh, great, now the corpses of all these kobolds and Draconiacs are rising up as zombies, or the ones whose flesh was entirely incinerated are rising as skeletons. My stomach flops. Hm, oh, this is interesting. I’m going to leave the necromancers alive for a bit. The aura from the Necrosteel chestplate is actually absorbing the necrotic blasts they’re launching at me, feeding a tiny forcefield like the one Tiktik had granted me when she Embolstered me. I guess I’ll wander around this second floor a bit, seeking harder targets.

The skeletons, zombies, and flesh golems shamble after me, but a few blasts of my holy halefire double barreled wrist crossbow tear massive holes in the undead horde. I almost forgot that the bolts act more like ballista bolts when launched at undead. There’s several inches of radius around the radiant bolts that are produced that tear through undead like paper. My Necrometal chestplate also reacts to the crossbow bolts, dulling them slightly before they leave a short range from me. Hm, this might come in handy against a celestial foe.

Wanting to save S P for when it eventually wears off, I’ve been slowly crafting the runes for another casting of Steely Body. Even if I have to quicken most of the runes, saving a few S P is still better than not. It does mean if I break my concentration on this string of runes to cast something else quickly, I’d lose them, but it’s not too many lost if so. Plus, I could just finish by quickening my casting of the Steely Body spell first if I’m a good ways into it. Fire mages in this barrack room, ice mages here, thunder and lightning mages here.

I shake my head, rattling it, trying to shake loose the thoughts of feeling like I’m slaughtering the Eimsas military. I’m acting as a mage slayer, gripping the spellslingers with telekinetic force as they’re still getting dressed to come attack me from the alarms being sounded. I wrench them from their footlockers or dressers and carve them asunder, my eyes always closed so that I can’t see the looks in any of their eyes. I couldn’t bear it.

I sense the rumbling of Boetah and Shaylon beginning to really go ham on the floor below, to make their way to me. The rapid fire impacts of what must be a stony breath weapon, or maybe some sort of rocky rolling attack, sends frequent minor tremors throughout the stronghold. I’m a bit wary that I haven’t sensed Illy, Induul, Veril, or Farzhis yet, but there seems to be a lot of floors to this structure, it has to go up over a mile into the mountain, to get beyond the cloudcover, where the Dormir would be coming in from. So they’re likely still over a mile away at least.

Returning to the necromancers, I let them blast me several more times before I offer, “If you stand down, I will grant you mercy, and even safety. If you con—“

One launches a bone spear at me that I sidestep due to my danger wraps’ guidance. I telekinetically slam him into a wall, and drag him into the mountain of flesh between us as I begin carving up that mountain of flesh, slashing his face and throat in the process. When he gurgles his last, I sigh sadly while shaking my head. More forces show up to back up the necromancers. Wind blades are launched my way from several aeromancers, and a slew of other spells are launched towards me that I simply block on my T K Ss.

Glaring at the rest, I attempt to finish, “If you continue to attack me, I will destroy you.”

The calls of, “Long live Terrorzin!” that become a unified chant are all I need to hear to know that these people are beyond my mercy. They’re conjuring more things, and their spell circles on the ground look dangerous, so instead of letting this get out of hand, I toss the first elemental-rune-empowered knife of my bandolier while casting another fireball from my Archsorc staff. The resulting explosion destroys the floor, the ceiling, the necromancers, the walls of flesh, the other assembled mages, and almost manages to singe my eyebrows.

Boetah and Shaylon blink up at me from below as the dust settles while they shake the stonework off of their backs and out of their eyes. I chuckle while waving down to them as I mention, “I might have gotten carried away. But hey, looks like a way up opened up. Glad to have you two. Is Atter alri—“

Atter steps out from under Shaylon, who’d apparently covered her from the falling stone. With that almost sensual slight hiss to their esses, Shaylon responds in that careful, slow manner of theirs, where they parse everything as their mind virtually coils around every word, “Was, unsure how to comply with all requests. We figured protections could only be offered in persons, and proofs of sincerities alikes.”

Nodding, I offer Atter a telekinetic square beneath her feet, and begin lifting with a raised eyebrow, checking for her consent, and she nods hesitantly towards me. I’d really prefer she not be in the line of fire, but if I’ve got Boetah and Shaylon, the two known as Shield and Aegis here, I don’t think there’s anywhere safer she could be.

Aloud I introduce them, “Shield, Aegis, this is Attraxiaz, leader of a faction southeast of here. Her safety is of a higher priority than any protection you might think I might need. I still have nearly all of my resources for the day. I apologize for offering such a heavy-handed command. I hope you’ll forgive me. Attraxiaz, these two are the most formidable defenses in the Order, but if you’d prefer to stick with me, due to our having forged some trust, I understand.

There’s a nodding from Atter as she says, “I do think I’d prefer that Reggie. Having spoken with you, I believe that you believe what you offer, but I’d need to meet your allies outside of battle to feel safe around them. Sorry fellas. Or, fella and lass, or, ah, Shield and Aegis then. Sorry.”

I’m rather touched that she cared enough to try to get a read on Shaylon’s gender, despite her misgivings. Hearing more cries of, “Long live Terrorzin, bring on the Ice of Rage, downfall to all!” I sigh while shaking my head. I don’t think we’re going to be offering anyone mercy here. I flick my head, and Boetah and Shaylon head off along the first floor to finish routing the groups below.

I mutter, “I tried to offer mercy. I did. Huff. I did. I swear. Maybe on the next floor.”

While eyeing me curiously, Atter attempts to balance on the T K S that I use to lift her while I raise myself towards the third floor, attempting to keep her several paces behind and below me. I’m sure she’s hearty and can take care of herself, but she’s said she won’t oppose the forces of Terrorzin. I’m sure she’d rather look like a prisoner than an accomplice in case anyone escapes or she happens to be being scried upon.

I offer, “Do you want to loosely bind your wrists or something so that you look like a prisoner? I don’t want your clan to become endangered due to my folly.”

Atter nods along with me and offers up her wrists, but I simply toss her a length of rope for her to do up herself, while tying one end loosely to my belt. It makes me look naive as a captor, but it still makes Atter appear to be a prisoner. I float us along, maintaining one telekinetic square guarding my prisoner at all times. A roar of flame begins approaching us, and I sigh wearily, shaking my head.