Day 28
—
Name: Phoenix
Journey Tier
Attributes: 0 points
Strength: 7, Constitution: 14, Coordination: 13, Mentality: 24, Will: 17.2, Charisma: 18, Luck: 13
Skills: Meditate 50%->53%, Stealth 0%->8%,
Arcane Skills: Magical Theory 55%->59%, Intensity 55%->59%, Duration 50%->53%, Passivity 55%->59%, Magical Shape 31%->34%, Magical Artistry 31%->34%
Magic: Spirit
Magic Pool: 28
—
As soon as the false dawn was light enough to see the ground with, he was on his way. Slower now, as he had to dodge trees, boulders, and crevasses carved out from the flooding of one or both of these rivers. He learned that, while he could move quite quickly in his magical chariot (he hadn’t settled on a name for it yet, but ‘bathtub’ was definitely not it), the craft had no ability to shove things out of the way, ending up slowed or even stopped by bushes or tall grass, or the branches of trees. This meant he either had to cut a path (obvious, therefore dangerous) or find a way around (slow, therefore dangerous). He went with ‘find a way around’, as at least that way he wasn’t leaving a trail that even the weakest tracker could follow. But compared to yesterday’s sprint, he was crawling once again.
While he moved, he considered his predicament. He had to assume Wicked Tselyth was smart and experienced. She sounded old, she sounded like she had done this before, and she wasn’t even actually fooled about the water tower hiding spot. The problem Tselyth was presented with was two fold and obvious. Cover a fast crossing of the grassland to the east, where her target was making a sprint to the Free Elves. The Free Elves were closer, allied or at least friendly with Tiana, and absolutely not a friend to the hags. They could be expected to have patrols or scouts or other watchers in addition. Of course, as well, Tiana was making that trek, and she was by far the most dangerous opponent on the board for their side. The second was an end run to the Empire. Much farther away, and over hilly terrain plus trees. Ordinarily, a much worse choice for a man by himself to make a run through, but Tselyth couldn’t discount the possibility certainly.
So she would divide her forces. She herself almost had to take the role of tracking Tiana and ensuring she wasn’t escorting him to the Free Elves, as no one else she had to hand could match the Glyph Tier. In addition, she could shapechange into a flying form of some kind, and so if she did need to retreat or regroup with her other forces, she could do so swiftly. If she was confident enough, and he suspected she was just this arrogant, she would believe herself sufficient for handling Tiana and Phoenix both. Tselyth would thus send the twelve orcs and the Witch Vuiloa south to cover whatever fords were in the river, while she went after Tiana.
Further, with twelve orcs and a Witch against one Journey tier sorcerer, if Phoenix was in her shoes, she would leave a smaller force at the ford, and assume that he had bypassed it somehow, and send the greater force on to the second river, to split up there and try and pick up his trail.
There were some dangerous assumptions there, the first being that Tiana was still alive and enough of a threat to force Tselyths hand. The second was that neither Tselyth nor Vuiloa had some magical way to track him. Gliding along as he was, he wasn’t leaving much of a trail to follow, but if they had some magical methods he didn’t understand, he was in deep trouble. For the first assumption, he basically had no choice. Either Tiana was alive or she wasn’t, and there was literally nothing he could do to change that. Head south and hope. For the second, only speed would counter magical tracking. It didn’t matter if they could follow him if he stayed ahead of their wargs and made it to the Empire.
The wargs came from endurance hunters, wolves were known to trot all day, and could sprint for twenty minutes or more, albeit he suspected they were a little encumbered at least by their riders. Another advantage was they had no need for stealth. They could bull through or magically dispense with all these impediments that he was laboriously skirting around, so even though his ride wasn’t going to tire, it wasn’t as big a help as it could be. Then there was Vuiloa’s spirit or spirits. That wraith-like thing had been able to fly and was wickedly fast, so he had to assume that at least one of Vuiloa’s spirits could fly ahead of the pack and search for him, before returning to report. He didn’t have a good sense of how that worked for Witches, he knew that he would have to rebond his spirit every time, which while not time consuming did cost a few points out of the Magic Pool. Best not to think she was so limited.
Then finally, they knew his ultimate destination. If he was Vuiloa, terrified of failing the hags again and wanting to make up for her previous failures, he would send some of the orcs behind him directly, to pressure him into fleeing towards the safety of the Empire. Then she would take the remainder and herself, and cut the corner to the further river. If she was fast and smart about it, she could box him between the two forces and confront him, as neat a trap as you could ask for. Taking all of that into account…
He didn’t like his chances in a chase.
So, to his thinking, he had anywhere from six to eight Journey Tier orc war riders, and the Master Tier Witch Vuiloa actively chasing him south of the South-of-Home river. Half would be behind him, the other half ahead. He would have to assume the orcs were a mix of spiritualist and divinity users, given the relative popularity of the magic users that Tiana had described. Vuiloa obviously was the greatest threat. As a Witch, she would have a complement of bound spirits of unknown strength and capabilities. He already knew she had that spiritual shield spell, and some kind of fast multi-dart magical projectile. And of course, she was inherently tougher than the goblins he had fought.
In all, he really didn’t like his odds in a confrontation either.
Biting his lip, he pulled up his panel and stared at the Spirit Glyph. He hadn’t developed a spell based on it yet, but he was going to have to, while concentrating on the path ahead to boot. One bit of luck on his side (besides his stubbornly not responding Luck Point), was he already had a sense of the combination that would protect against spirits. Spirit Ward, like Death Ward, would certainly work to protect him, and even in the same way as Death Ward. He had it more than half figured based on that, anyway.
It took him a good hour, distracted as he was by maintaining his Illusory Earth ride and guiding it over the terrain, but at last he got a handle on the Spirit Ward. He did have to stop to actually test the Spirit Ward with his own little flower spirit, who seemed confused by his attempts to get it to attack him. At last he managed to convince it to take a bite at him while he was covered by the Ward, and was gratified to see it gnaw fruitlessly on the spell instead. Rebinding it back to his forehead, he continued on.
So, a day, maybe two, to the river, but if he made it there, he could go much faster by skimming along the river bank over the water, instead of being tied up in all this underbrush and going up and down hills. But it would then just be a ticking clock until the jaws of the trap closed. Well, Phoenix, here is the question you have to answer now.
Could you kill, say, six Journey Tier orcs and their wargs in an ambush? Because that was his best play at this point. They wouldn’t expect it, so he could achieve surprise. And he could prepare a handful of very powerful spells if he just abused the heck out of Draw Breath. If he could kill the weaker force, presumably the directly pursuing force, it opened up further tricks he could pull. Duck even further south before coming back to the river, for example. Bypass the Empire outpost entirely and head for the Dwarves Arachnae had mentioned.
He gnawed at that problem for the rest of the day. He needed more tools, but the outline of a plan was starting to form in his mind. Tonight, when it was too dark to move, he was going to do a lot of practicing.
Day 29
—
Name: Phoenix
Journey Tier
Attributes: 0 points
Strength: 7, Constitution: 14, Coordination: 13, Mentality: 24, Will: 17.2, Charisma: 18, Luck: 13
Arcane Skills: Magical Theory 59%->60%, Intensity 59%->60%, Duration 53%->56%, Range 48%->50%, Passivity 59%->60%, Magical Shape 34%->37%, Spiritual Combat 24%->25%
Spells: Dismiss Spiritualist Magic, Spark Bolt (Delayed), Spirit Ward, Ward Versus The Lie
—
Phoenix forced himself out of his trance as early as possible, waiting for the sky to be light enough to navigate. While the false dawn slowly crawled across the sky, he contemplated his research last night. He had a number of new spells, and a modification of an older spell. He had decided to alter how he used Spark Bolt, it took far too long to cast in a combat situation, so he had changed it up so that it could be set in something and then triggered some time later. This made it more expensive to cast and he had to be within range to trigger it, but it bypassed the casting time problems when seconds mattered… as long as he had time to prepare. Further, he remembered well the mental attack he had barely fought off during that brief humiliating fight with Tiana. It had come to him based on his experimentation with Death Ward, and he decided to follow through with it last night. Ward Versus The Lie, while untested, when it was affecting him, he felt calm, serene even, so he thought it might protect him mentally. Finally, combining the Magic, Spirit, and Ward Glyphs, he had come up with a shield against the magic that might be spiritualist based. He hoped. It was completely untested as well. But it was a chance, and he was taking risks here anyway. Maybe it would be enough against fellow Journey Tier opponents.
He had also tested how many of these Spark Bolts he could store at once, and discovered a new limit to his magic. Or maybe it was his brain. Either way, he was stuck at no more than seven spells floating around at once, whether they were delayed spark bolts or wards or walls. He didn’t know if such a limit was based on Magic Theory, Passivity, Mentality, or some combination of all three, or none of those. But it did set the boundaries of the set of spells he could count on using in a fight.
Thus, he needed to find an ambush site, and lure any pursuers into it. Which meant going the loud and fast way, he felt. It would leave an obvious trail, but an obvious trail helped at this point, as it would lead them down a path that he could predict, rather than having them out there in the amorphous nowhere. The sun poked its nose a little higher, and he started off, Halo activated and used to cut his way through the bushes and brambles that he ordinarily would have skirted. He continued like that for a few hours, and was happy to find himself at a large river, much larger than the previous one. Then he heard the first mournful, dreadful howl.
They have my trail. They will be on me soon.
One part of his plan had already failed, the river went through a deep, sharp sided gorge in the rock, with no shallow area for him to float over. So he was forced to still dodge and cut his way through the surrounding terrain. Still, it let him check for a likely place to ambush, and as he crested each hill, he looked back, trying to spot his pursuers. He could hear the howls in the distance, clearly they thought to spook him, or thought he was already panicking and fleeing as quickly as he could and they were just enjoying the chase. Or they are telling the other party where he was. That was a dreadful thought.
It was another hour of moving when he caught the first glimpse of them through the distant trees, four or five kilometers back and closing fast. He only saw two, flashing through the trees, but he assumed that there were more spread out to make a search pattern. He had expected something barbaric and wild, from his imagination of what orcs looked like, and was mildly impressed to see them instead dressed in some kind of scale armor on their torso and head, with thick pleated leather on their limbs. They did have the large curved cavalry swords, and horse bows, which were the bigger threat by far in his mind. The wargs, two to three times the size of a normal wolf, with a broader head and shorter muzzle, seemed to be unarmored. How they could keep that pace for so long was a mystery, but he couldn’t spend the time thinking about that, he had maybe ten minutes before they overtook him. Whatever ground he was going to pick, he had best pick it now.
As he was already stopped to look back, he took this opportunity to plant a few Shock Bolts in the trees on either side of the gap he had taken through this brush. A grim sort of joy in that, and he took off again, racing for the next hill where he could see those Bolts to trigger them at the right time.
As the pair that he had seen crested the hill, they stopped to stare at him, then one of the wargs tilted its head back and gave another howl, definitely letting the other know they had him. Phoenix just gave a cocky smile, and sent his mind out, and detonated his little mines.
Both trees discharged bolts of lightning into the two mounted riders, sharp cracks of thunder, one after the other, reaching his ears moments later. The orcs jerked and twitched and fell like lumps of grain off the wargs, the bronze scales of their armor worse than useless against the surge of electricity coursing through them. The wargs fared little better, charred fur and twisted limbs showed their frantic thrashing as the current discharged through them into the ground below. Dead or unconscious, Phoenix had no way to tell. He wasn’t, however, far enough away to avoid the scent of cooking flesh and burnt fur.
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Phoenix vomited into the ground next to his craft, shaking and sick. Goddess above, I did that to them. He had been staring at the visage for too long already, a pointless exercise in self inflicted pain as all those images and sounds were burned into his perfect memory already. Clenching his fist, whether to discipline himself or to hate himself, it hardly mattered, he needed to move. So he did, driving down the other side of his hill and along the river bed as quickly as he could.
They might be a bit more cautious now, in their pursuit. Might slow them down. Or so he hoped. At every hillcrest, he did a quick scan of his back trail and the surrounding terrain, and soon he saw the others, at least four of them, maybe more. It was hard to make out individuals at this distance. One at least was just ahead of him to the north, curving in rapidly to try and cut him off and trap him up against the river. Time to make a stand.
He picked a cliff next to the river, where it fell a good ten meters or more to the rushing water, and formed a nice clear lip out over empty space.
One.
Draw Breath.
Two.
Death Ward.
Three.
Spirit Ward.
Four
Ward versus The Lie.
Five
Illusory Earth.
Six
Conjure Light
Seven
Spark Bolt, Delayed
—
Luck Points: 1
Hit Points: 15
Magic Pool: 28 [respiration halted, draw breath 7 per activation]
Draw Breath, Death Ward, Spirit Ward, Ward versus The Lie, Illusory Earth, Conjure Light.
Spark Bolt, Delayed
—
All spells cast. He shifted all his food and the nearly empty waterskins into his backpack box, and with that, had nothing to do but wait.
He heard them approaching of course, so he stood and arranged himself. He had chosen his cowl for this confrontation, its metallic threads seemed sturdier even than the leather of the vest and pants that Tiana had given him. He had the hood itself pulled low over his head. The Illusory Earth formed a half sphere surrounding him and extending to the edges of the cliff on either side, to prevent any flanking or sneaky shenanigans. Once again, he trapped a tree, centered on the approach to his little cliff side fort. He steeled himself against what was to come, and hoped he would be strong enough to do what he had to do, regardless of the outcome.
When they appeared, he did a quick count, and his heart sank into his stomach. Ten warg riders, and at their head, the easily recognized form of Vuiloa, smiling wickedly. Vuiloa hadn’t split her forces to trap him. He had let her entire might corner him on this cliff.
A lifetime of being wrong feels exactly like a lifetime of being right, up until the last two seconds of it.
“Boy, you have given us quite a fight, I have to say.” Vuiloa called out to him. She was quite wisely still a ways back in the trees, ready to duck behind a trunk should he start flinging spells around. “But this is the end, I think. No more running certainly. We are all quite impressed with your skills, I assure you. No more pain has to be suffered today. Surrender to us now, and I personally guarantee your treatment as a prisoner will be better. No maiming or torture, we’ll let you keep all your limbs and your tongue! That’s a pretty good deal, believe me!”
Phoenix stayed silent. He needed them to come out of the tree line, but he wasn’t going to pretend to surrender. He couldn’t afford to lower any of his defenses.
“Look, kid, if you are expecting a rescue, let me put that thought out of your mind. That cunt Tiana is dead, Wicked Tselyth is picking her teeth with her bones as we speak. The Empire is too far, the Elves are too far. It’s just you and us, and once that hag arrives, any guarantees I make go out the window. It really is in your best interest to surrender now.” Vuiloa was making an effort to sound reasonable, but he could tell she was strained by the silence. All lies of course, once he was a prisoner any guarantees were just as substantial as a fart in the wind.
Vuiloa waited a few minutes, and then disappeared behind the trees. He could hear them having some kind of council back there, although he couldn’t understand the words. Finally, the orc women and wargs on the edges started creeping forward, tree to tree, bows drawn. He raised his arm.
The whole group of ten orcs unleashed arrows at once, and he watched calmly as they arced out to shatter against his Illusory Earth wall. He launched a Lance into the far left orc, searing a line of fire into her hauberk, and she dove to hide behind a tree to prevent a follow up shot. He didn’t think he had hurt her.
—
Magic Pool: 19 (28) [respiration halted, draw breath 7 per activation]
—
Another volley of arrows, which suffered the same fate as the first. He was preparing another Lance when he felt a presence behind him, and he whirled around in time to see a screaming goblin face, disembodied but nearly as tall as he was. He couldn’t back away, so he focused on his sense of self, preparing to fight, and it bit down on him. Its first strike was deflected in violet fire by the Spirit Ward, but it didn’t give up, shaking its whole body and worrying at his magical defenses to try to find some way through. While distracting, this wasn’t impeding his physical actions at all, so he looked over his shoulder to see the orcs at the tree line, swords out, and beginning their charge. Ignoring the enemy spirit, he focused on the Shock Bolt, and detonated it.
This close, the sound was deafening. The shock of the noise alone caused the most distant orcs to stumble and fall, delaying their advance. The three orcs closest to the blast, however, each took a direct discharge, the lighting arcing through each one, one after the other. Sizzling noises and smoke erupted from their hauberks, and just like the others they dropped, Phoenix could only hope that they were dead and not dying slowly in agony. Phoenix was, for his part, protected from the noise by his Illusory Earth wall. Five orcs, however, managed to survive and were in fit enough shape to continue their charge. They hit the wall and bounced, but Phoenix could feel the strain through his connection. When that wall came down, he was dead or worse. He couldn’t risk using the portholes he had put in the wall to fire Lances, the orcs would grab him or fire arrows through them in response. So he backed all the way to the edge of the cliff and prepared another Shock Bolt, the enemy spirit still stymied by his Spirit Ward but not giving up.
—
Illusory Earth 25%
—
Two more sets of blows against the wall, and the resonance was becoming dire. He finally finished casting his Shock Bolt, and the lightning surged upward from the ground to engulf the center orc, and then rip through the two to his left side, eliciting screams from throats and sending them smoking to the ground. The remaining orcs had had enough at that point, and they fled into the woods, ignoring the screaming imprecations of Vuiloa and leaving their own dead and wounded behind in their haste.
—
Magic Pool: 13 (28) [respiration halted, draw breath 7 per activation]
—
Phoenix turned his attention to the spirit, focusing his power on it in an attempt to drive it away. His Spirit Ward made him virtually immune to its attacks, but it was too strong and too skilled in Spiritual Combat to let him hurt it in return. A stalemate, which would be a loss for him eventually. Vuiloa had come out of the woods to observe his struggle, face twisted in rage and terror in equal measure. He felt her magic reach out and he saw her eyes in his thoughts. She was trying to confuse him or stun him, he wasn’t sure, but the Ward versus The Lie held up. Shoving the enemy spirit out of his view, he started another Shock Bolt up.
Vuiloa laughed, manically. “You like lighting, boy? Fine, taste it yourself!”
—
Illusory Earth Failed
—
A thunderbolt of power flashed down from the sky, smashing his Illusory Wall into shards of amber power that faded before they hit the ground. Phoenix was thrown off his feet, his concentration disrupted and he was left desperately stopping himself from being flung off the cliff face.
“You see? You see?” Vuiloa screamed at him. “The only reason you still live is because I want you alive! This is over!”
Another wave of magic sallied forth from the Witch, and suddenly his Spirit Ward evaporated, snuffed out by her power. The enemy spirit, sick of being ignored, latched on and tugged at his soul, trying to make room for it to invade and possess him.
—
Magic Pool: 6 (28) [respiration halted, draw breath 7 per activation]
Spirit Ward Failed
—
He activated his Draw Breath, desperately maintaining his concentration in the face of the spiritual attacks, if only just barely, and netted a few measly points to his Magic Pool for his efforts. Vuiloa was stalking slowly forward, confident now in her victory. To be fair, Phoenix was pretty confident in her victory as well. Either Vuiloa was going to break through his defenses one by one until she could disable him, or the spirit was going to tear its way into his soul and possess him. Either way, he was lost. Time to play his last card, while he still could.
Focusing past that terrible feeling of tugging as the spirit dragged at his soul, he started casting another spell. Vuiloa, seeing this, growled and walked faster, raising her staff to strike him a blow to the forehead. HIs Death Ward easily deflected it in a shower of violet sparks, and he continued his spell. Vuiloa sent another wave of power at him, and then his Death Ward failed, while he felt the spirit bite another chunk out of his Magic Pool.
—
Magic Pool: 2 (28) [respiration halted, draw breath 7 per activation]
Death Ward Failed
—
Last chance.
He hurled himself off the cliff.
He finished casting his Illusory Earth bubble.
And hit the water with an enormous belly flop style splash, immediately sinking deep into the water and then bouncing around like a ball in the torrent.
—
Name: Phoenix
Journey Tier
Attributes: 0 points
Strength: 6(7), Constitution: 14, Coordination: 11(13), Mentality: 23, Will: 17.2, Charisma: 18, Luck: 13
Luck Points: 0 (1 point recharging, 24 hours)
Hit Points: 11 (15) [healing, 8 days remaining]
Magic Pool: 2 (28) [respiration halted, draw breath 7 per activation]
Broken Ribs, Concussion I
—
Despite the pain, he called forth his little plant spirit and ordered it to attack the enemy spirit that was still attempting to possess him. The plant spirit was also clearly outmatched, but with both of them fighting the enemy spirit at the same time, the enemy spirit quickly began to lose ground. With an ethereal scream, it retreated into the water above, and was gone.
Already, the air was getting oppressive and dank, but he remained calm, activating Draw Breath to recharge his Magic Pool. Then, as his vision began to dim, he forced the bubble larger and Conjured Air inside, refreshing the atmosphere somewhat and getting the buoyancy such that he bobbed to the surface on his own, floating like a bubble. The ride wasn’t at all comfortable, perhaps one might even describe it as dangerous, so he threw his weight over to the side and eventually got his makeshift raft to collide with a sandbar, stopping its progress.
—
Magic Pool: 28 [draw breath 7 per activation]
—
Once there, he was able to refresh and float off to the shore, a half dozen kilometers from the fight. He looked up at the cliff, and could see the figure of whom he assumed was Vuiloa standing there. With her mounts mostly injured or dead, half her forces killed or wounded, she wasn’t in any position to pursue anymore. But he wasn’t taking any chances. A quick slug of rose water repaired his injuries, and he trundled off into the trees, watching over his shoulder until Vuiloa disappeared in the distance.
—
Hit Points: 15
—
Day 30, 31
—
Name: Phoenix
Journey Tier
Attributes: 0 points
Strength: 7, Constitution: 14, Coordination: 13, Mentality: 23, Will: 17.3, Charisma: 18, Luck: 13
Skills: Small Unit Tactics 0%->23%
Arcane Skills: Spiritual Combat 25%->29%
—
With no need for stealth, he drove late into the night, using his Halo to light the way and pushing himself as close to collapse as he dared, desperate to create distance between him and Vuiloa. Fatigue was a serious factor in his ability to concentrate, so he was eventually forced to stop and rest, but he spent the bare minimum possible, pushing on as soon as his trance was done and unwilling even to cook any food, instead eating on the move.
He repeated this through the next day, sleeping only the bare minimum and not even stopping to hunt or fish when he ate the last of his provisions. A little hunger wouldn’t kill him, so he forced himself on, focusing on the path ahead almost to the exclusion of everything else. Just as the sun began to cross the horizon in the west, and he was seriously considering his options with regards to food, he crested a ridge in the land and saw it.
—
Exhaustion I [effects offset by high willpower], Starvation I [effects offset by high constitution]
—
A gleaming white wall, perfectly circular, sat next to the river. What appeared to be orchards of trees and fields of grain, six each in perfect circles surrounding the perimeter of the wall and then fanning outwards away from the river, grain and then trees. From this vantage, he could see into the town itself, which had one extremely tall tower in the center, and then a few much shorter ones evenly spaced along the wall itself. The buildings were all of that white material, presumably stone, and there were less of them than he was expecting.
How many people could possibly live there. He thought. A few hundred? A thousand? Tiny. His expectations had been of something much larger. Still, he had made it. He was safe.
He hoped.
End book one.