The trip was uneventful, as far as random surprises. Expected surprises, those were pretty common.
As normal, the known Spawn Points were marked and indicated, and bore the signs of frequent visits and practice. Reedsharks, undead, sclavi, and jungle armoredillos alternated with tougher moarsmen and obdurate water golums, in addition to Summoned copies of the random wasps, wisps, and tentacles that were wandering about.
We saw both humans and tumeroks working the creatures out here, with the result that most of the living wandering creatures were actually exterminated along our route, having to pass the hurdle of the lugian border patrols and these committed hunters. The tendrils, coming from an extradimensional source, could circumvent all such precautions, and so had to be spotted and hunted away one by one, constantly pruned back as they extended past the Veil into this world.
All such ones we found were also killed, but we laid off on the vivus. The Aun Hunters from before would have preceded us, and it was evening as we trotted in along the shores to the short river that led down from the picturesque, layered waterfalls descending from the white stone of the Cathedral above and guaranteeing fresh water to the Aun settlement below.
Ithaenc City was around the other side of the mountain, and so there was no spoilage or sewage coming down here. On the other hand, there was a virtual field of Tentacle Summons waving in the shallows of the final falls, which was more than a bit unnerving to see.
The Mick caught our concerned expressions at the sight, and laughed softly. “Ye wonder why the Aun are such fine archers? Ye need look no further. Look at the posts.” He directed our attention to finely carved markers planted along the beach. “Range markers on where to stand. You’ll see it tomorrow morning, when the Aun wake, and after they eat. Any not going out for the hunting will line up here with their bows, and they will shoot the tentacles down in series, smooth and relentless. Then they’ll recover their arrows, and the warriors will ready spears and shields and axes while waiting for the respawn, and do the same again.
“Every single day, they kill all those tentacles at least twice, and the more experienced warriors two, three, four times or more. The Shamans have to Heal ‘em like mad to keep them in the fight, they work on magic defense and dodging the tentacles trying to spit them, grab them, constrict ‘em, bash them against the ground… aye, ‘tis a dangerous game, an’ they do it every day, without fail.”
“So, we probably don’t need to offer to get rid of them permanently,” Princess Kristie ventured softly.
The Mick was waving at the open sentries, but we’d already been noticed and passed by more hidden ones behind us. “Well,” he said carefully, “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind havin’ the option, an’ bein’s like these bits o’ T’thuun might just lead back to the big beastie itself, might they be what’s allowin’ it t’ still keep coming here?”
“That was my thought,” I agreed quietly. “You’re talking about a true Aberrant, a thing from Outside Creation. Astral Template or no, it’s an echo of the real thing, allowing it to zoom in and locate where it might manifest from beyond the Veil.
“Every single tendril on a Summons point should be destroyed, and then every tendril on the islands exterminated. I think you might be surprised when not a one can manifest thereafter.”
“Ye should mention that to the elders.”
“Among other important things. Priorities…”
He just nodded, greeting the green-furred Aun loudly and warmly as we came in so late, and were invited to join their fires.
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Unsurprisingly, the Scouts in general got along very well with the Aun tonks, possessing similar skills and appreciation for the land, hunting to get by, and the like.
The Aun hadn’t quite heard of the magical revolution that we’d started among the lugians, but as the last of the hunters returned home, with or without kills for the cookpots, naturally the circles changed and melded and merged and split as different business was brought up, those concerned listened in, changing as different matters were addressed, most of it coordinated by quiet drumming to the side.
Talk of the return of magic was taken very seriously, and all the surviving Elders rapidly were summoned over via the drums to listen in and consider what Kris and I were saying.
They were very sad one of their own had decided to betray their alliance with the humans and lugians, but the tribes were also very firm that such rebellion could not be tolerated. There were human and lugian racists, and they got murderously short shrift from people, too. The Gotrok were considered outright rebels by the lugians, and the Hea basically brainwashed slaves by their cousins, the Aun. Endangering the relationships between the races because of petty difficulties was given the scorn and disdain it deserved.
I wondered who had leaned on the young Aun to give him such a negative view of humanity, or maybe he just wasn’t mentally geared for a Black Aluvian’s teaching methods.
The Aun had examples of their own versions of Biting Strike, Crushing Blow, Armor Cleaving, and were happy to bring them out for examination. They showed the same consternation as the lugians had, however, when the Mick brought up the topic of their Totemic bows and weaponry, and how they were upgraded… and the fact they couldn’t seem to do so anymore, despite them being ‘iconic’ weapons of their culture and people.
That REALLY bothered them. Stories and tales and passing down knowledge were very important to their tribes, and suddenly realizing that not only had that knowledge vanished, it might have never been there to begin with, was severely unsettling to them.
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“What,” the Mick asked, mirroring questions Mira had asked earlier, “is that thing she’s using?”
It was dawn, and the Aun had come out to beat up on the many tendrils growing from the Summon points under and near the waterfalls.
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There was nothing for it but the Scouts to show how skilled they were, too. Aware they were probably going to get shown up by the more experienced hunters, the Scouts nevertheless were eager to show off… and pointedly asked if I was going to be available to Heal them, which I confirmed I was.
Princess Kristie was with them. She had bargained off some specially treated horn and sinews from the Aun Hunters, supposedly made from armoredillos before they’d been eradicated, as well as some remoran tails, and she’d been at it for hours last night, molding, bending, carving, and fixing things up.
She’d also had me work up a couple magazines of ammunition for her.
Nobody there had ever seen an Autobow up close before, and she was drawing a lot of attention for its very unusual, sparse, and efficient ‘modern’ design.
“Never seen a magitech crossbow?” I asked him rhetorically.
“With… wheels on it?” he asked, pointing at the thing.
“You can make bows the same way. Vastly increases the draw length without needing a massive bow.”
He blinked. “How’s that, now?”
“Look at the Autobow. Look at the wheels. Remember that the power of a bow is the length of the draw, which is dependent upon the length of the string and how far it can flex. Just how long is the string of her Autobow there?”
A lot of interested eyes were trying to get better looks at the thing, but I’d just given the Mick the proper perspective. He held his hands apart, then doubled them, tripled them…
“Its string be longer than I be tall, aye,” he murmured. “But the draw?”
“If you look really carefully, you’ll see that the middle of the rail there’s a ripple there.” He squinted his dark eyes, and nodded after a moment. “Extended space. It doesn’t look like it, but that rail is four times as long as it seems.”
His breath hissed out. “That alone be powerful, then. I see no stirrup, nor claw on her hand. She be strong, but if she’s got the tension on it, she needs something to grip it with, no?” He gave me a careful glance. “Or be that done with magic, too?”
“There is magic out there that will auto-cock a crossbow as soon as the trigger is primed. There are Cantrips for bringing arrows and bolts to hand, too, or for simply teleporting the arrows to the string.” I nodded at Camwise, a crossbow-wielding Scout, who was staring at Kris’ Autobow in unabashed desire. “She doesn’t have them active yet, therefore she’s going to be using the pump-action on it.”
“Pump-action?”
“Best to let you see it in action first.”
He humphed, crossed his arms, and sat back to watch with a lot of curious hunters and archers as the Scouts came up, took their aim, and let the tentacles have it.
At the first shots coming in, the tentacles writhed and began to hurl thorns, Drains, and Inflict spells at them energetically, meaning the archers were constantly shifting positions and grimacing against the spells coming in at them.
Chain Cure Moderate Wounds zipped through anyone injured, Healing up multiple people at one time, the boosted Healing enough to completely mend their injuries quickly. I Mana Boosted before the wide eyes of their Shamans and got my Mana back extremely rapidly in between.
The scouts mowed down the tentacles with commendable speed, having plenty of practice doing so. The Aun basically applauded them politely, and then showed them progressively how it was done.
The big longbows of the Aun had much more intrinsic punch than those of the Isparians, who were relying solely on Stance magic to increase the damage of their shots. With the higher base to draw on, the Aun arrows hit harder and punched deeper than those of the Scouts, who watched with great interest as first the younger Aun, then progressively older ones moved into loose formations that allowed each archer clear arcs of fire, while also laying out who was shooting at what. With remarkable teamwork and great accuracy, the Aun proceeded to sweep the tentacles away.
I could tell they really wanted to add Mighty to their Bows quickly, and then up their Strength to take advantage of what was heretofore an unappreciated mechanic. Mira had informed me that the old, non-magical bow style simply didn’t increase the damage the same way that Stances did, and furthermore forced the nimblest archers to also be the strongest to draw the best and most powerful bows.
They hadn’t stacked before, and they might not now… but the Strength bonus definitely was making more of a difference than a pure Stance style was.
When four stands of slithyr unnatural tentacles were gone, including a respawn, Kris stepped up before the seniors not going hunting took their turns, raising her Autobow, which I happened to know was Named Drop, and brought it up in classic shotgunner style to her shoulder, not even cocked or loaded yet.
With a hiss and fwzap!, the Summons points were re-energized, and more slithyr tentacles erupted out of the ground to coil about sinuously, while the vestigial eyes on them blinked and looked around at the new tentacles’ environs.
With a quiet, smooth klak-klak, Kris worked the action, and the string snapped back into place on an internal roller-pin, snapping back into place. As she pulled the action back, the bolt sprang up out of internal miniaturization from the magazine, sliding perfectly into place on the rail.
The string lit up with Golden light, and the Mick knew the thing was Soulbound, just like Quaver, Bunita, and Crown were.