Sama takes a short break from Slaughter, Crafting, and Marking...

They looked very pretty, that was sure. Some of the women were mounted on unicorns; many other elves were on stags, with great curved racks polished with metal. They all had mail on so fine it could be poured in the hand, sometimes with ornate plate in addition, if they were cavaliers. Their clothes were silk from butterflies and spiders alike, brightly colored, with ribbons and feathers and glittering stones to accentuate perfect complexions and glorious hair and pearly teeth and massive sparkling eyes.

Ah, so munchable.

I had a two-headed harpy gynosphinx’s head in my off hand as their leaders rode up on creamy white elven steeds, as much antelope as horse. I cocked an eye, surprised they weren’t on pegasi or something similarly magical, but elf-steeds were good enough, I supposed.

And unlike all the other becloaked and bejeweled and bedazzling elves, these two wore crowns of mithral and emeralds on their heads.

I drove my hand into the chest of the sphinx, right through her hide; bone cracked, my nails and Vajra cut and ripped, and I pulled out her heart with a spray of dark red blood that didn’t quite reach them. It did spatter on me, but ran right off as if I was Teflon, even my arm that was covered up to my elbow.

“We’re not done cleaning the field, Your Majesties,” I spoke to them by way of greeting, pulling out a jug from my Masspack, and stuffing the six-chambered heart inside leisurely. My Exsanguination Tube coiled up from over my shoulder, and I stuck it into one of the aortas of the sphinx as I dropped a five-gallon jug on the ground,. Thick red blood began getting sucked out of the carcass. “Surely proper introductions could wait until the mess is cleaned up?” I punctuated the sentence by hacking off the sphinx’s vulture-like wings, lifting up her half-ton body with one hand to chop off the second wing cracked and folded beneath her.

The high and mighty monarchs of the Sidhete elves were a long way from home, and looked down at me with a mixture of curiosity and hauteur.

“Is this not a task you can leave to others, Lady Sama?” the Queen of the Elves of the Sidhete asked. Her silver hair gleamed under the sun, her eyes were deep violet, and her Aura of magic was strong enough to rub on my Null. An arcane Caster of tremendous power, definitely post-Ten.

“You want the fruits of your labor, you harvest the fruit. Two skulls suitable for Greater Baneskulls for Warped or Magical Beasts, innate two goldweight each means automatic Lesser Baneskull once properly Enruned. One heart worth two goldweight in Burn material. Pinfeathers worth a goldweight for Potions or Scrolls for flight magic. Blood worth a goldweight a gallon for general Potion mixtures or Scrolls, with a +1 Caster Level bonus for Heartsong magic.

“I know you’re rich and all, but I want my twelve goldweight reward for killing this mutant thing, and the sixteen goldweight-per-Sword of Burning these Tainted things.” I flicked the spiked and twisted Blades used by the Carnage Demons I had slaughtered on the field, and the metal seemed to scream at me. “They’re going to die and come back as Warpbane Blades. My boys are already thirsting for them.”

And given I had a few thousand boys to help provide for, it was no wonder.

“Is her hide worth much, Lady Sama?” the golden-haired Elf King, pretty enough to give Legolas conniptions, asked curiously.

“No. These are Warped creatures, tainted with the laws and energies of a cosmos that is not our own. The only thing you do is Burn them, or turn them into Weapons that can be used against them, like Baneskulls. You don’t keep them as trophies, and you don’t make them part of something powerful, unless you want those things to be turned against you.”

My voice was flat and uncompromising, and even the elven nobles shifted at the rebuke in it. Yes, the dark hide looked soft and fine, and it was going to Burn in vivus like the rest of her.

“Otherwise, I’d’ve made a nice suit of leather armor out of it, or maybe a magical saddle.”

The elves around nodded at that casual addendum.

The landscape was already stained white by vivus, with more than a few eyes turning to one area that was basically crystallized by overlapping, massive vivic explosions.

I loved Massacre Demons. You always got a two-for-one out of them. Their habit of turning their defeated peers into Weapons they could use was working out so damn well, and the Land agreed with me.

“But, since I don’t want to waste your time, what prompted you to come up all the way out of the forest to here?” I inquired, knowing that elven monarchs don’t just leave their lands and come out into some place like the Badlands without a good reason. “Seriously, Your Majesties, I know you’ve got a Marked in your Court just to relay news. Coming all the way up here just to watch the slaughter is not really necessary, and I’m sure your people are keeping you well informed of all developments.” Since I had to shuttle the reports, I was sure of it, actually!

The King nodded regally. “That is true, and they even replay some of the events as they happen. It is those reports which inspired us to come in person.”

I’m afraid my expression turned rather sly and knowing. “Ah. You’re looking to Advance, and you’re hoping this can do it for you both.”

Both of them glanced at one another, not needing to nod at me. “You have shown us many deeds, and word of the benefits of your Marks and leadership are singing through my people. Endless conflict, constant victories, slaughtering a fell foe who deserves naught but the end of a blade, and a threat from beyond the very realms... What true king could stay away from such a fight?” the elf-king asked rhetorically.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

“And you heard the dwarves signed up first, and aren’t about to be out-shone.” I winked at both of them, and they remained perfectly impassive. “You did hear right. The King Under the Mountain and all the Underkings of the Clans have taken a Mark, and they have a regular old chat room going on in the back of my head. There are things going on among the Rockborn that they’ve never been able to get going for lack of coordination, and now they are happening.”

“Our servants have indicated that your Marks can enhance either the physical or the mental characteristics of a person, Lady Sama, and raise the limit to which one may Advance, in addition to other benefits?” the Queen asked, verifying what she had heard.

“That is true.” The elves behind them glanced at one another, looking a bit eager to be about this.

“And you have no ability to magically control or influence anyone through these Marks, and they can be removed with great speed?” the Queen continued, looking for affirmation.

“Instantly, if you ask,” I agreed, not batting an eye.

“And... you can open all those who wish to fight to Soul Magic, Lady Sama?” the King continued, not even bothering to hide his own eagerness.

“Of course.”

The royals looked at one another. “We would like you to treat all of those here, including ourselves,” the Queen said calmly.

“That’s a lot of trust you’re extending me,” I noted, looking at the both of them. “You’re elven nobility. You don’t need what I have to give you. You can find alternatives, although what I have is very convenient, I’ll be the first to admit. What is inspiring this great drive to join the fight, if I may ask?”

“Is it true the Rockborn are assembling an elite army to face these... Warpbands, as they come?” the King asked softly.

“They are first making a master army, and then they plan to make a similar army for each of the Underkings, as well. Truly, they want nothing more than to kill all of the Warped themselves to assuage the stain to their honor, but there’s too many others here eager for the Karma.”

The King nodded, the gleam of a competitor in his eyes. “We shall be doing the same. When you form up before the Rift, the songs of the Elven will be with you!”

Well, I couldn’t let down that kind of bravery now, could I? “Well, then, get your demon-slaying shoes on, Your Majesties, because if the two of you can’t combine up to take down a Greater Demon, I’m going to be very disappointed in you!”

“Hah!” The King straightened, his amber eyes flashing. “I shall endeavor not to disappoint you, Lady Sama!”

He nodded at his Queen, bowed from atop his steed, and the entire party of nobles, knights, and attendants, in all their colors and finery, turned away and headed gracefully for the location of The Camp, where I did all my Mark and Chakra work.

I eyed the half-full jar of blood, ultimately bound for the alchemy shops, where two ounces per would form the power comp for a lot of healing Potions, after being properly Burned and mixed in vivicized reagents. Forty healing Potions for one dead shrieking mutant sphinx was a pretty good deal, in my opinion.

By the reports coming in, I wouldn’t be able to get all of the elves done in one day, as the royals had naturally brought the single strongest armed force of their nation on this expedition, along with a lot of Casters.

I was fully aware that with the +2 to +4 bonus to a Stat I was basically allowing many mediocre-talented individuals, especially Casters, to experience a sudden leap in power. An Elf at 11-13 in their Primary Casting Stat was doomed to be mediocre for literally centuries, before age bonuses kicked in and allowed them to actually gain another Level. Getting a bonus of +2 raised a mediocre Caster like that to someone with potential. A +4 turned them into a genius who could reach Ten directly.

+1 to a Stat at Fourth; Stat Mastery/2 giving +1 at Five; Six allowed you to take Expert or another complementary Class to Four, +1 to that Stat you needed; At Seven, they qualified for Racial Paragon/3, +2 to Int, Wis, or Cha by sub-race; Eight gave another +1 of Choice; Nine finished Stat Mastery for +1, and Ten gave +1 to all Stats.

But they all needed that 14 to start the process by reaching Four. A larger bonus just made them even more capable, and helped get them ever closer to that magical 20 needed to make Ten.

As a magical race where every single one of the Elves was potentially a Caster as long as they had the Stats, they had to be extremely sensitive to having low mental Stats and not being able to Cast decently.

The fact my Mark could break those chains for many of them would be a life-changing event. I could turn someone with a below-average Caster Stat into yet another magic-using elf, meaning they would no longer be a cripple in the eyes of other elves.

I had never actually administered a Mark to a non-Casting elf specifically for that purpose, but I was pretty sure a fair number of these elves in attendance were not Casters, and by the hunger in their eyes, were very anxious indeed for that to change. After all, the vast majority of elves (and dwarves and gnomes, for that matter) followed their Racial Levels, never taking Classes, or only a few Class Levels to complement their natural talents.

Too, while elves and dwarves here weren’t rivals or enemies, they each still had their pride, and in the game of nations, being able to show that you could defend yourself was an imperative... especially with humans around, who would jump on any perceived weakness, and the many feral races, who wanted everything the elves had. Self-defense meant a clear veneration of martial ability, a martial culture, and a willingness to fight and die for their people... and maybe just a tad of glory.

I reflected that I wouldn’t need Tremble Singing for them, as the elven Bards were going to be vying with one another to provide that bonus for the whole army, and certainly their Warlords weren’t going to be relying on me to direct them.

I didn’t know what the Warped knew about the elves here, but I could only feel sorry for them. Elves were a whole race of Casters, and going up against that on a battlefield could only be described as a nightmare. Making even MORE of them Casters... I had the feeling a long-term invitation to the elven kingdom was going to be in the works hereafter.

Just like the one the Rockborn and the gnomes had already extended to me...

Word had already gotten around that my Marks would not stick on people of non-Good alignment. I could put it on, but it would fade to uselessness.

That wasn’t an accident. I was Investing Karma into my Marks every single day I fought. At two goldweight equivalent a day, they were a bottomless pit, as expected of a typeless Stat bonus with awesome secondary effects. One of the things I did was attune them to Good, as Succubi Blessings were to Evil.

Evil didn’t care who used their stuff. Good did. So, the touch of holiness around the Marks meant they quickly lost all power when anchored to a non-Good soul. Totally by design, of course. I could NOT do that, and I might not if they were useful, like Noir Rabe...

But that wouldn’t be a problem with elves, most of whom were Chaotic or Neutral Good. Ditto the largely Lawful Good Rockborn, and the Neutral Good gnomes.

Humans... all over the spectrum. But I wouldn’t have to worry about someone I Marked Falling and exploiting the Marklink for my enemies. This wasn’t a power I was going to give away to the Bad Guys...