“Yep, I think I’ve heard enough,” VII remarked, shaking her head, “So, Fara has obtained a similar ability to Mother’s. You can predict things much better than you could before, it sounds. And Mori… I don’t even know. Your ability to shove your soul into a physical mass without the use of mana just shouldn’t happen. Even the gods aren’t able to do that. The best they can do is construct a shell around their soul to act as their body. You just do something entirely different…”
“Don’t forget that my soul is also physically here,” she said, “I can use sentient energy to affect the physical world.” As if to prove her point, she molded her S. energy into a disc in front of her, holding up the red glowing saucer for VII to see, “See?”
VII shook her head, “And that shouldn’t happen, but maybe it’s a consequence of your sentient energy being added to your physical body’s development. I don’t know. Whatever the case, you’re able to raise liches and do… that, while Fara can understand mechanics to a far deeper degree and predict the likelihood of future outcomes happening. That’s all I need to know. So, do you know how long you were out for?”
Mori and Fara both shook their heads, “VII,” Fara said, “I have been sleeping. I don’t know what happened. How long have we been asleep?”
“About three days,” VII sighed, “The dwarves have been kind enough to let us stay, mostly since the Cyst still won’t go away, but they’ve been waiting for you to wake up to ask any real questions. They apparently believe you’re the leader of our little group, Mori,” she chuckled, “Oh yeah, I also got my soul fixed up, so I can do magic. As you saw.”
They all smiled, Mori standing and letting Fara rise from her bed, “Alright then,” Mori said, “As team leader, I shouldn’t keep them waiting, huh?” she laughed. VII led them out of their room, walking through the tower and quickly bringing them to a small-ish room with four dwarves sitting at a small table, “Hey there, thanks for having us,” Mori greeted, looking around for a place to sit. She shrugged and decided to stand instead.
The dwarves, however, turned to look at her and almost immediately recoiled, “What in the names of the gods is that!?” the short one asked, “You look like you got your armor woven from a snake pit!”
Mori rolled her eye-flames, “Thanks, just what I wanted to hear,” she remarked, “When you guys are done gawking, can we get to the questioning? We’ve got to figure out what to do now.”
The four took another moment to stare at her flowing armor before nodding, “I suppose I have a question of two to ask,” the Keeper said, “Why is that thing trying to kill you?” he asked, gesturing in the vague direction of the Cyst.
“Because of her,” Mori said, gesturing to VII, “Can’t tell you more than that, though. Will of the gods and whatnot.”
The Keeper harrumphed, “I have a feeling you’ll be telling me that a lot,” he grumbled.
“I will,” she replied, “But I’ll try not to keep too much need-to-know info from you. Alright, what’s next?”
“Next… Why did you need to meet with the gods?” he asked.
“I can’t answer that,” Mori said.
The Keeper nodded, “Alright… then why are you… you? Why aren’t you going on a murderous rampage and raising armies of undead to help with that. Or going off to a quiet corner of the world to be alone in?”
Mori smiled behind her now-unremovable helmet, “That one is something I can answer. Basically, I died and revived myself. It was a bit different than normal, so I can stand the living and whatnot. It’s not that interesting,” she remarked.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
As the Keeper paused, rubbing his bearded chin while thinking, the tall dwarven woman shook her head and took a long drink from the mug in her hands, “‘Not that interesting,’ she says. As if a lich being so close to the gods’ angels isn’t interesting.”
Mori laughed, “Hey, I don’t gawk and gape over every fun little toy you guys have around here, do I? I mean, what’s that thing?” she asked, pointing to the rifle-like weapon leaned up against the table beside where the woman was sitting.
“You mean Loan Shark,” she asked, “This one’s mine. You can’t have him.”
Mori tilted her head, squinting, “I never wanted it. I just want to know what it is. Also, ‘him?’ Don’t people usually name weapons with… I dunno, cooler names?” she asked. She did not really know how people named weapons, or at least she did not know how people named guns. Swords and spears and other stock fantasy weapons were things she had vague, fuzzy memories about, but she hardly remembered anyone naming guns things like ‘Aegis,’ or ‘The Caduceus.’
“People name guns they’ve tinkered with down here,” the other dwarf man said, “She’s just really possessive of hers. And yeah, some name their guns things like ‘Rockslayer.’ Some are also completely full of themselves and can’t come up with good names to save their lives. We don’t judge those types,” he remarked, “Do I get a question?”
Mori was tempted to make the obvious joke, but she withheld, “You do. Apart from the one you just asked,” she answered. She really wanted to stop herself, but it was not like the joke hurt anyone.
“Har har, very funny, you can o’ bones. Alright, here’s my question: what’re you going to do with the offerings to the gods?” he asked, “We’ve been sitting on them for a few generations now and we don’t want ‘em to go to waste.”
Mori gave a questioning glance, “‘Offerings to the gods?’ What are you talking about?” she asked, “Also, shouldn’t those go to the actual gods?”
VII grinned at her, “Well, apparently, the gods thought we could use it more than they would. You four still haven’t told me why the gods wanted a stockpile of resources here at any rate,” she said to the dwarves.
“Because, you aren’t a dwarf and you obviously got on the bad side of the Demon of the Clock for that big bastard to chase you so far. What if you spill something?” the short one replied, the tall woman smacking him in turn. He glared at her for a moment before she swept him up in a hug, him struggling all the way.
“The thin one’s got the favor of the gods,” the Keeper remarked, “We can’t just leave her in the dark. Alright, come along, and I’ll show you the offerings. And tell you why we have them.” He stood, hobbling on his stick, and made his way to the door. The three women followed soon after. He led them down to the bottom level, where the Shrine was, then behind it, to a staircase leading even lower, “The truth is, we don’t know what the gods want,” he began, “Hrm. Do you want to hear the full story, or are you fine with a shorter version?”
“Oh, I want to hear the full story,” Fara cut in, smiling, “And maybe some of the technology you guys have down here. That would be nice.”
The Keeper cracked a smile, shaking his head, “If you want schematics, blueprints, and the like, go find Jran. He’s quiet and keeps to himself, but he’s a good man. Now, stories. I will spare you the complex details of the dynasties of the old Stone Kingdoms and give you a general sense of what happened. You see, there was a sorcerer of the old Tropag Kingdom who wanted to conquer the gods. Through methods intentionally destroyed by the sorcerer himself, he managed to find the gods themselves and, in short order, was killed. For his offense, we were sent to live below the earth, without the gifts of the system, awaiting the gods’ forgiveness.
“Before you get up in arms like a dwarven child, you have to remember that we only ever went above ground to trade our tools for luxuries. Not to mention that the system was a gift to us. We spat in the face of such kindness by letting that sorcerer live as long as he did. We deserved this. But, we have received a message from the gods about you three, so we may be forgiven yet,” he remarked happily, “Though, as for why we hoarded so much for the gods, it is because they may be useful to them someday. That’s it, really.”
Mori and Fara shared a glance, pity carved into her face that was mirrored by Fara’s face, “That seems pretty… sad,” Fara replied, “The gods are not only powerful, but they’re also personable… I just can’t imagine them doing that and you people being happy about it.”
The Keeper laughed, his cackles echoing on the stone walls, “That, my conduit of the gods, is something that will only be revealed by insights of your own. We don’t even know why we accepted this. But we do of our own volition, nonetheless,” he paused, gesturing to the landing they arrived at, “Here we are, the first storage area of the gods!”
Mori gazed out at the dozens of coffins, all expertly made by runsmiths and glassblowers to perfectly preserve the bodies within them, and let a grin grow on her face, “I think I can work with this,” she remarked.