Morwen stood atop Fennex’s tank as she peered out at her forces, all geared up and in formation. They were as ready as they could be. As ready as she could make them. Everything she’d done so far had served the prophecy the ArchPriest gave her. She just hoped she wasn’t about to march to her men to their deaths, even though she felt pretty certain that was going to be the case. She’d seen too many of these last stand battles against the Sauridius to trick herself into feeling confident about their odds. The best she could hope for being able to stop their plans.
A warm, humid breeze gusted from the west. The scent of death hovered along, warning of the lurking pall that awaited her forces. Morwen drew in a long slow breath, ignoring the foreboding feeling in her gut and gestured for the convoy of tanks and troops to begin their march into the Sorrow. Hidros’ star was at its zenith, giving them the best they could hope for battling off the spreading fog caused by the Sorrow. She’d had misgivings about that storm since it was magical. That meant the Sauridius and Ominek could take advantage of it. A problem for her to address later.
She pulled up her hud stats, noting that her aetherpool had recovered to full. Good, she was going to need all of those points for casting later. Ominek’s defenses were only going to get thicker and more vicious the closer they pressed to his objective. Her hands ached for a staff or weapon. While she could perfectly cast by sketching and signing, she preferred the ease of a staff or weapon. In a simple spell fight, the speed advantage was vastly beneficial. But she knew they were mere crutches if she were to square off against someone as complex and skilled as Ominek. She settled for tightly gripping the tank’s hatch as a happy middle ground.
The march out of the capital was a quiet, punctuated only by the steady rumble of the tank engines and treads grinding over the terrain. The ride was smooth as the chassis wobbled forward and back on several points of sway. It allowed the craft to race over difficult ground. Coupled with the low center of gravity and it gave Morwen an extra appreciation for armor’s place in the battlefield. She threw a quick glance back at the ground troops as they marched in formations of platoons trailing behind the vehicle column. You always wanted your slowest element to set the pace, but she wanted her armor up from in case they took fire so the infantry could pull up for cover.
She could hear the marine vets singing cadence to get the civilians integrated and keep their motivation high. It was a work in progress in terms of quality, but she expected that of the uninitiated. She could just make out the Queen of Battle cadence, an old Teran war song from the closest formation over the steady rumble of the tank's engine. Many of the newly conscripted recruits' faces were hard. She didn’t see unmitigated fear, though. These were the faces of grim determination. Much of the men and women marching behind her had lost a great deal, and this was a fight for them to protect and preserve what they had left. The entire city wasn’t marching with her, but it was a good deal of the surviving population. Most of which owed their survival to Akamori and his mage squad for providing them with refuge during the ambush.
She turned back to face forward at the rolling storm nicknamed the Sorrow. Looking above her, she saw Akamori and Yasiin flying above them as the others marched flanking the lead tank. Her strike team poised to strike on a moment's notice. She caught several glances her way from Sala. She felt her lips crack upwards in the softest hint of a smile she dared allow. She wasn’t certain, but she suspected the primal had feelings for her. He no doubt thought of her as some form of savior for her role in removing him from the torture he endured by the other elves. It was endearing of him to be attached to her. Truth told, she was rather fond of him herself. He had a quiet strength about him. Here he was, this tiny, fragile and wounded soul who endured so much. She knew he possessed a monstrous power that if he tapped into would make him nigh unstoppable. She’d witnessed it once, and while it might have terrified her under any other means, she took immense comfort knowing that she had that power on her side.
Sala was a warrior of unparalleled capability, and she pitied the poor soul who took up the cause of getting in his way when he had sufficient motivation to let go of his own self-control. She knew he constantly fought to restrain himself. He existed in a constant state of terror of losing it. He feared himself more than others. She leaned back in the turret hatch of the tank thoughtfully. Perhaps that was why he endured all that he had? He wasn’t afraid of anyone else; he was afraid of himself. She frowned, a sudden surge of empathy welling within her.
The storm drew nearer, and the deep rumble of thunder drew her from her thoughts. It pulled her attention squarely on the roiling clouds. The air temperature remained the same, but the pitter patter of rain heralded their approach of the storm. She glanced down the turret into the tank and gave Fennex a nod, who tapped his driver on the shoulder. The tank pressed forward at a slow, steady pace, and the rest of her forces followed her. The wind picked up, slowly at first, but steady and strong. Fueled by divine levels of water and air magic. She whispered a silent prayer to Aeryn for protection. She went for a perception check.
System Info: Perception Results: Failure. As expected, the Storm of Sorrow is too thick with its miasma of wind and water magic to see clearly through. You lack the skill or magic necessary to pierce the stormy fog. Too bad you sunk those points into Piloting instead.
She cursed the Sorrow as the storm picked up in intensity and was thankful she’d taken the unit in slowly. That meant they didn’t lose any speed or momentum, regardless of the storm's wrath. It also eliminated the chance for any collisions with the tanks and made it so the infantry formations could stay close. She valued that control, especially in uncertain conditions like these. It would be too easy for things to unravel, and she needed to wield everything at her fingertips as efficiently as possible.
As the formation moved, she contemplated spending her earned XP to level up the perception skill. But that wouldn’t be a very worthwhile expense of XP if the rest of her forces and squad still suffered the visual handicap of the storm. Reluctantly, she held her points for now. She had a suspicion they’d need the boost, but not yet. She swiped the menu closed for now.
Morwen held her arm up to shield her face from the intensifying rain. She could have cast a shield, but that felt like a waste of magic. She’d need that AP and more in the battles to come. She had to be more frugal with her magic use. She could only rest and recharge so much. And she expected those opportunities would be fewer and fewer now that they’d breached the wall of the Sorrow. Thankfully, she’d had the forethought to store a few potions in her pack in the tank. Had she worn armor like the rest of her mages, she could have loaded the potion dispensers.
She squinted as an enormous shadow loomed into the roiling wall of falling water. Was the storm playing tricks on her, or was that a dragon? She cursed the storm again, and Ominek for using it for cover. She was conscious of the fact that this would be the best place to ambush them. Reduced visibility and lack of cover and concealment made them standout sorely. Ideal conditions for one looking to cut down large swaths of his enemy. She pressed the Brotherhood comm piece in her ear to transmit.
“Stay alert. The storm is intensifying and conditions are worsening.”
A chorus of affirmatives poured through as each unit in order chimed in. They pressed on another hundred feet when chaos erupted. Spell bolts poured in on the tanks from all angles. The storm made it impossible to discern locations to even return fire. For a fleeting moment, fear and panic gripped her heart in an iron vice grip and it briefly tempted her to just let the end come for them all. To stop the fight. To welcome the peaceful embrace of oblivion. For a fleeting microsecond, she longed for the peace that would bring.
A roar of retaliation sounded from Sala as brilliant golden energy exploded from his body as his mass doubled from his stone skin spell. He looked like a massive, angry stone ape whose hands ended in gigantic maces. He squatted down, and then his powerful legs pressed off against the soft rain soaked terrain and he flew off into the storm. Just like that, steel returned to her resolve. She stood straighter, defiant against the pressing rain of the storm. Her initial misgivings about using the AP swept aside in a storm of spell fire. She wove several soul and water signs and cast several large shields to stop the rain in a massive sphere that encompassed all the tanks that formed a front line. The infantry units all poured into formation behind the tanks and set up a rear perimeter to fire from.
Morwen checked her AP gauge. The costs of those spells took her AP from 19 to 16. She issued fire orders to the tanks and her marines, then watched. She cut her counter spelling to a minimum as they were just level 1 bolts and missiles. It was a waste to expel magic, stopping them based on the sheer volume of fire alone. Her few counters alone wouldn’t stem the tide. She looked above and saw only Yasiin in position, face to scope. His sniper rifle belted out void bolts and where ever he fired, no soul bolts returned fire.
On the ground, Sgt. Sirsir and Amara took covered positions and lobbed fire to the left and right of the tank line. Morwen allowed herself a moment to study the fire coming in at them. It was heaviest on the right flank where Sirsir was focusing fire. She issued fire control orders to Fennex. As one, all the turrets hummed with high-pitched whines as their servos rotated the turrets along their azimuths to aim where she wanted. A half beat later, every barrel fired. The amount of spells coming at them from that flank diminished significantly.
She panned to the left flank that Amara was firing into, then issued the next fire order. Again, the tank turrets swiveled with a steady whine, settling in to face the next direction. The human marines were using enhanced optical technology that magic enhanced storm weather had no impact on. It was far easier to use them than her infantry and thus, why she’d positioned them at the front of the formation. It was a curious thing to be a part of and see happen. Everything in front of the cannons was immediately propelled forward with the rounds. Mud, gravel and water all hurled along with the high-speed shells.
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She held her breath as she waited for a response. It took longer than she’d expected, but when it came, she felt no surprise. A small but loud roar sounded from a short remove in the storm. Her eyes narrowed. More wildlings. The mages had gone and shackled the remaining fauna. Great. She issued commands to the infantry to stay alert. More wild creatures would come for them and looking to take advantage of the rear of the formation.
She heard several loud impacts in the distance. Like a massive beast banging on something unyielding. She thought she heard Sala roar, but it just as easily could have been the dull rumble of thunder, too. She heard the marines barking orders to her six and turned to see them shouldering rifles in the high ready. A beat later, several small drakes and wildlings darted into the dome of protection, pressing through a streaming wall of water. The marines and civilians all opened fire. She heard rounds slam into scales and the shrieks of pain and confusion from the beasts over the storm. She saw small spouts of water and mud kick up from ricochets as many of the rounds failed to pierce the scaled hides of the drakes and serpents.
Her hands flew into motion, weaving void and fire signs. An orb of roiling violet energy that rippled like fire formed in her left hand, and she fired her Amaterasu spell into several of the advancing drakes. As each orb struck a drake, the orb burst into purple and black flames that dissolved and burned all it touched. Now she heard genuine pain from the beasts.
Spell: Amaterasu’s Flames Type: Evocation Damage: High void and fire damage, double damage to light, spirit, and mind resistances. Range: 10 Meters Defense: Dodge/Resolve Reduction: Void, Fire, Magic Cost: 5 Aetherpoint The caster creates black flames that burn away at their target and extinguish only when the target is reduced to ash. Targets afflicted with Amaterasu’s Flames suffer the Cleansing Flame affliction and suffer additional void and fire damage over time. Effect is cumulative. Cannot be cleansed. Requirements: Void Magic, Fire Magic, Divination Magic. Enhancements: For additional AP, the spell can be shaped into Orbs for AOE explosive damage, or into a cone for fan coverage across a 15 meter long by 5 meter wide cone.
The void flames devoured their scales greedily and burned until the drakes fell to ash. The magic infused rain did nothing to deter the Amaterasu flames. Rumored to have been named after an elder goddess whose burning touch seared away everything unrelentingly. The few that didn’t now had smoldering wounds the marines could exploit with their explosive ammo. The expense had been costly, but helped preserve her forces. She declared it a worthy expense, though only time would tell.
More creatures poured into the dome shield, and she wove more Amaterasu spells. Morwen’s AP gauge dropped from 16 to 9 alarmingly fast. She was about to hurl the next round when movement from the corner of her eye caused her to recoil from a lunging strike by a serpent that had come at her from her flank. Before it could seize her in its jaws, a spell bolt slammed into the side of its head, comprising air magic. A patch of crackling energy danced along its scales like localized lightning rippling in place. The creature twitched as muscles spasmed and it fell off the tank, writhing and in a flexing mess. Morwen dropped a charged Amaterasu spell directly on its head as Amara circled around and executed the paralyzed serpent. She gave the priestess private an approving nod. One day she’d ask why the young woman was blind in one eye. As Amara soared off into other parts of the melee, Morwen felt the cold numbness settling into her hand and winced. The side effect of channeling the offensive spell so much.
System Info: You are suffering the first level effects of the Curse of Amaterasu. Casting speed is doubled. AP cost is doubled. Effect lasts until a Long Rest.
Blast it, she cursed. Already the creeping black veins showed themselves. It was rumored that anyone who cast the spell too much would soon lose the ability to cast in their left hand. The curse said to mimic Amaterasu’s retreat from the world and casting it into darkness.
Yasiin spun in his static orbit and began directing fire down onto the encroaching beasts at the rear of the formation. His precision void bolts burning away scale and skull, killing each creature he hit with a single spell. The dead piled up, creating both cover and an obstacle to overcome. It offered no protection from Morwen or Yasiin as they continued to cut down beast after beast. The work becoming procedural now that a battle rhythm had settled in. The wildlings were just dangerous enough, she couldn’t ignore. Forcing her unit to spend time and energy dealing with them. It both slowed them down and spent resources she could have applied to bigger targets. She found it maddening that they trapped her in a game that isolated her options and forced her into predictable choices.
“Everyone get inside the shield, that means you too Sala,” she heard Akamori say over the squad channel.
A beat later, the massive primal fell from the sky on a Drake, crushing its skull with a sickening crunch underfoot. Yasiin drifted down next to an adjacent tank, acting as another mounted weapon, hurling void bolts into the gaping maws of incoming wildlings, and occasionally throwing spells into the flanks of the storm into unseen targets. Morwen knew he was the sharpest marksman of the group, but he appeared to be operating on a level independent of anyone else.
“Lt. I trust you have a plan?” she said into the comm.
“Yeah. Water is fueling this storm, right? And air magic is its opposite, so water is weak against air. Well, I’ve got air. And I can make lightning.”
“And our enemy is outside…” Morwen mused, finishing his thought. The shape of his plan was clear now. Gather their forces inside her barrier and fry everything beyond its protection. “Execute Lt.”
“Yes, sir!” Akamori replied. She could hear the grin on his lips.
She could just barely make out his outline in the wall of water as it fell against the shield and rolled down like a glass dome. A moment later, something bright white flashed all around them as a bolt of lightning exploded in all directions. Writhing searching forks of energy that jumped from drop to drop of water, hunting for something to ground itself in.
Much of the lightning found the shield and fell down its walls. The shield held, but Morwen saw the runes discoloring and she worried they’d misjudged the move. That had a ripple effect, in that any creature crossing the shield caught the full brunt of the shed energy. Eyes sizzled and blackened. Muscles locked, and smoke billowed from snouts. But the effects of the spell were much more widespread than that. She wove a fire sign, enhancing her vision, her retina’s coated with fire that burned away all lies, revealing pure truth. The rain faded to nothing, and she saw Akamori’s lightning spreading out several hundred meters and cooking everything not inside the shield. Bodies went rigid, then fell lifeless to the ground in the rain. Ruined by the lightning he’d unleashed.
Slowly, Akamori’s feet descended into the shield as he lowered himself down under its protection. Water dripped from him as he flicked his blade clean and then slid it back into its sheath. He spun in the air and drifted over, his armored thrusters puffing jets of air with the rotation and movement towards her.
“Lt. Good work out there.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Morwen appreciated him for stopping over. It spared her, needing to request him. “Report?”
He cleared his throat. “Another skirmish group hit us. A contingent of hatchlings, and a shackler that was puppeting a bunch of the local beasts. My lightning stunt got most of the hatchlings and beasts, but the shackler got away again.”
She nodded, expecting as much. If the idea was to delay them as long as possible, then they would commit only the bare minimum of their forces needed for the attack, and used what was locally available to fill in the gaps.
“Should we expect a follow up attack?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. Not immediately. They fell back, but I got what I could before that. It’ll take them time to regroup, I think.”
She nodded. They needed to regroup themselves. She leaned over the turret and saw the tanks were sinking into the loose soil. She didn’t want to linger any longer than needed. “Get everyone formed up and ready to move. We’ll advance as much as we can, find a position, and then hunker down to recover a little. If we’re going to march into the unknown, I’d like to do a little recon, so we’ll set up a perimeter where we can. A forward base camp, if you will.”
She glanced down at the tank. “Lt. Fennex, does anyone here have any terrain maps of the land inside the storm?”
He repeated the request to his marines and nodded several times as responses poured back through his tank commander's helmet. He finally glanced back up to her. “One of them reports having seen some satellite lidar images that pierced the storm. It’s mostly flatlands swamp out here until we hit the base of the gigantic mountain. Then the terrain slopes pretty dramatically.”
She didn’t know what a lidar was specifically, but figured it for Brotherhood tech of some type. She stood atop the tank and scanned around. They would need to track down where Ominek was working. That meant pushing into the storm deeper.
“Everyone’s ready to roll, sir.”
Morwen turned to see Akamori floating next to her. The young spell weaver was still very fresh, but he showed promise. Already, though, he was leaning on magic for things she personally wouldn’t have. She could see him being drawn in by the allure of the power.
“Good. Give the order, then. We continue in. We’ll march 300 more meters and then establish a base camp.”
He gave her a stiff nod, then pressed his hand to the ear of his helmet as he spoke, issuing movement orders. Fennex rapped on the metal ladder inside the turret hatch, and she dropped in before the tank engine rumbled louder and slowly the patrol moved forward again. The platoons of infantry at the rear of formation falling in behind the tanks with their wet weather gear on. She wove the cancel sign when the last soldier left the spell shield she’d cast and the runes collapsed, water splashing back to the drying ground they’ve torn apart with combat.