“I find myself in the unusual position of asking for advice from someone much younger than I am,” Master Tolkien admitted with a sigh. He had signed all three of my books with a flourish.
I held up a hand to stop him, reaching out and grasping his hand to bring it to my lips. His lips rose towards his receding hairline as I kissed his hand, and then the Blessing materialized on it.
He looked at me there in the Markspace, and trembled despite himself.
-Ask away, Master Tolkien,- I /told him respectfully, getting the age difference out of the way by simply overawing him with Stats and Levels in exchange.
He shook his head to stop himself from staring at me. “My Lady Sylune preserve me,” he murmured despite himself. “I-I was going to ask you about Leveling advice, as you have given me some hope of making it to Seven true, even at my years...”
-You cannot do the fastest Double Helix method, as losing your Levels would likely kill you at Renewal when the extra years granted you are lost.- He winced, but nodded, having figured that out. -So, your alternative is to start a completely new Secondary Class, and then advance it to Six using Theurgies. Then take your Four in the Class, advancing it to virtua Nine, and you’ve done a Helix Break and will be able to advance your Wizardry to Nine... which you should do with a Theurgy.
-As a Seven, then a Nine, you will be able to take the advanced Theurgy Levels, and you should certainly do so if at all possible.
-Gaining Seven will allow you to take Human/3, apply the bonus to Intelligence, and pave your road further. Getting Nine lets you take Intellect Mastery/5 for another Stat boost, and simply advancing your Secondary Class will get you to Ten and possibly Eleven. Simply take Wizard instead of Theurgies if all you want to do is reach Ten and gain some additional time.-
I paused significantly, as the schema /floated around him in Markspace. -This information is all available online, and Advance Schema are freely available from any of Sylune’s Churches. I do not believe you have not perused them, so I am merely verifying what you already know. Are you looking for something more... exceptional?-
He paused and blinked. “There... is a shorter way?” he asked, despite himself.
-No.- I studied his somewhat grim face. -You were in the First Great War, were you not?-
“Yes,” he admitted at the last. “I... admit that I loathe the idea of mass combat. The mere idea that it furthers my own strength feels... revolting...”
-Men fighting men in pointless wars of territory and ego is indeed something you should loathe, along with all other men. But fighting undead? Do you think you are some kind of vampire? The Karma you gain from putting down undead is a direct reward from the universe itself for doing something Right. The Glory Award from dropping a whole Shroudzone is a massive thanks from the souls slaved to it that are now free.- I shook my head slightly. -Until the Shrouds are gone, and all those enslaved undead are set free, the whole planet is trapped by the Shroud.
-This is not a fight for glory, land, acclaim, or ego. This fight is one of the holiest causes that mortals can ever embrace, regardless of how some just spin it as Karma accrual and Naming Karma helping their Gear.
-It is extremely unlikely that you will be able to get those Levels unless you start aiding in this effort, Master Tolkien. But if you do... you can indeed gain them very quickly, if you work hard at it.-
He sighed, and clenched his fists. “It is... the thought of getting onto a battlefield again... it fills me with such great fear and dread...”
I studied him there, caught up in old memories of slaughter and hate, the war that basically ended the Great Game of Empires.
He was a Human/2. He had an Obsession...
I flicked a finger, and the details of a Feat popped up before him. He blinked at it in shock.
“Polyglot?” he read the image in his mind aloud. “Required: Knowing ten languages. 25 Intellect...” he half-gasped. “Learn any language with only an hour’s exposure to it...”
A bright light began to glow in his eyes. He had a 19 Intellect right now...
-Human/3, Intellect +2. Sage Sorcerer/4, Intellect +1. Wizard/8, Intellect +1. Virtua/9, Intellect Mastery/5, +1 Intellect.
-Ten, +1 to all Stats.-
I let that drift off, considering him.
-The number of people on this world who have this Feat is exactly four at this time: myself, my sister Azaia, Sama Rantha, Briggs, and now you know of it. None of us are master linguists by training.-
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The light in his eyes was getting brighter.
-You will aid the elves in destroying these Henges the Fey were going to use to form a bridge and foothold in our mortal world. When they are done, and I expect you to get done as quickly as possible, you will call me up, and I will take you to China.
-There, hundreds of millions of undead yet wait for their peace... and there, you will see an Evil that feasts on the souls of mortal men, and you will know what it means to fight for a righteous cause.-
Despite himself, he bowed low, his fears falling to his Obsession, and he acknowledged me, “Yes, Great Lady!”
I nodded and swung onto the waiting Sleipner. “I have oceans to map, and the doom of horrors from the deep to arrange. Be about your tasks, Future Master of Tongues, and I shall be about mine.”
---
He watched as Sleipner rode above the steps, down to the lake, and then the waters exploded up, seized her as a silver pillar reached for the stars, easily punching a hole straight through the Interdiction Wards of the Sea Palace, and the Waterjump took her away.
In his mind, he saw her appear far off in the South Atlantic, not more than a thought away... if he dared to disturb her.
John Ronald Reuel Tolkien, Wizard, Master Linguist, and Elf-Friend, looked out at that glorious image of bright souls and some dark ones through his Markdoor, and reflected that for some dreams, death was worth facing... and for some causes, difficult journeys were indeed worth making, not just writing about...
Which reminded him. Greatly daring, he reached out with a thought, -Great Lady, I had another question.- He felt her attention turn on him, waiting. -I noticed that the ring on your finger was glowing when you were facing the Fey. Are you capable of making magical Rings? You might understand that I have a fascination with such things...-
The /answer that came back was warm and chuckling knowingly. -I am the Ringlord and Stafflord of this Shrouded Terra, Master Tolkien. Make Ten, and I’ll gift you a Ring to celebrate.-
The Lord of Rings of the whole world! His thoughts spun in wonder, and he looked at the golden band of ivy leaves on his finger. It was the sign of an Elf-Friend, but he knew well it was no true Ring, merely a Toy in the form of one.
There was a story he had once planned to write, an epic of another great journey, another great Evil to fight, and the Lord of a great and foul Ring who needed to be brought low before he also conquered the world.
Then came the Shroud, and such a story became a child’s flight of fancy against the horrors of the dead coming to life and the dark clouds that cut off the sun.
He looked to the east and south, towards where, far beyond the horizon, a great black veil of clouds loomed, a Shroud so vast it could cover all of England and more. Beneath it, only death ruled.
There, a great Evil dwelled, and held the whole world in an iron grip of dread that one day would turn to terror... and then slavery unending.
A hobbit, a modest soul, plucking up courage to do the unthinkable, because it needed to be done...
He had never thought of himself as a powerful man, for all that he had long been one of the strongest Human Wizards alive, and he had never lived as one.
There and back again, he thought to himself, and steeled his courage. It seemed he would indeed be going back to those dark times and places...
If he could not do it, could he dare write about it? Even claim he had done so with truth and a greater message in his heart?
Of course not. It seemed he would have to live up to his words... and perhaps, another great story might come out of it after all these years...
-----------
I eyed the two women kneeling in front of Legion suspiciously.
Both had the red hair of the Autumn Court. One had the gorgeous butterfly wings and antennae of a sylph, and the other the Natural Beauty of a nymph. Both of them had Caster Auras at Twelve, of Wizardry and Druidic magic in turn.
Legion was keeping them both perfectly in check with a fuzzy tail each about their necks. With a twitch, they could pop the pair’s heads off, even while the tails were slowly undulating, and the two were flushing and trying not to moan.
Twelve. The Fivetailed Witch being burned away in vivus was also a Twelve. Was there some lesser limit to Casting for non-mortals on this world prior to the Shroud? They hadn’t gained the Levels post-Shroud without a Hat of Difference, I was absolutely certain.
Legion had called me over to this beachfront with their two prisoners. “What’s this about?” I asked neutrally, looking the pair over. “They’re both Pact Grantors. Love is War and The Dying Breath,” I judged via Assay. “Shouldn’t you be locking them up?”
Both of the fey flushed, and seemed about to say something, when another tail each came caressing across their faces. They shuddered and remained silent, kneeling there.
“They served Freyalise long and well. They are among the key parties responsible for the Irish Potato Famine, and the Great Famine in the Ukraine.”
“Ah.” My Fivefold vivic tinder had known there were other Powers involved in those things, but not exactly who. Naturally enough, Autumn specialized in natural rot and decay, and failing weather, in addition to being the Season of War. “That gives an absolute excuse to remove them?” Autumn bent CN because of their impetus to fight and expand the influence of the Fey in general. Their Season was the biggest time of conflict between Courts, after all, with Summer and Winter happy to go at it under Oberon’s eye, and the Court of Autumn was quick to join in on whatever side was more entertaining... or sit back and watch them as they went out and messed with the mortal world while the two major players were distracted.
“You noted that the lilithi would expand your Ur-Priest Levels. Would not these two do the same?” Legion asked calmly.
I lifted an eyebrow. “Possibly?” I honestly had no idea. “What brought this on?” I had to inquire.
“Erlking Hjaldrim has many lovers. He does not wish them with Shvaughn, who has taken Freyalise, and they are largely wasted on us. We thought to offer them to your family.” Taloned hands gracefully spread wide, revealing several gems with sharp grey lights within them.
My mouth twitched. Morningsuns with the Natural Beauty of nymphs... Okay, it wasn’t the Killing Beauty of the Spring and Summer Courts, who were more pacifist, but it was still incredible... and it was a big spike in Druidic magic, an instant Eight or higher.
These were basically Freyalise’s magical advisors, I had no doubt. That they had a relationship with the Erlking beneath her nose was just all part of being Fey...