My last two weeks had been much more boring than Sama’s.
I had finished off my Engineering Mastery Tiers... and immediately had some great ideas for modifications and upgrades to some Gearsmithing Construct designs that could be implemented in the future, and some really cool PMD kinetic exchanges with exotic materials, and a refined universal joint, and...
Ahem!
Longcaster Mastery was considered an extravagance by most Casters, and, well, it was. Except I had 300 Mastery Tiers to take, so grabbing it for +5 to Caster Level when determining duration of a spell was nice. The Hole in the Haze would last ten more hours...
I was currently on Widecaster Mastery, which improved the area of spells by +1 Caster Level per Tier, if applicable. Get a few extra miles out of the Hole tonight...
Einz had completed his +III Luck Protection, basically finishing out much of his build. At almost 350k of value, he had a colossal amount of power for a Ring, and was definitely worthy of the honor of being a Ringlord’s Ring.
Once I had the Legendary Feats, I would upgrade him further. For now, we had started on my next Named Ring, which would be Lore. I wasn’t planning to make it intelligent at this time, but it was going to be my spell-boosting Ring, with Wizardry and Spell Knowledge built into it to a very expensive degree.
Wizardry meant more spells in active memory, available for use. Spell Knowledge’s power was more subtle... it allowed me to add any spell I saw to it, as long as it was strong enough, and store it as a Spell Known on my Sorcerer List... or other List, as appropriate.
That meant both reading the spell in a Scroll or Spellbook... or watching one get Cast.
It was a way to steal new spells just by seeing them get Cast! Then one Write spell sent it into my Ringbook in Einz, and the spell was mine to do whatever I wanted to with. It was one of the ways around Bloodbonded spells, too, and an easy way to piss off a lot of spellcasters when you stole their proud personal achievements so easily.
My Prime Elemental Command Ring was being worked on by the Warlocks in Heavenbound Hall, who traded it among themselves and worked on the Infusing day by day. Sure, some people might think the idea of a Ring of Elemental Command for all the Elements was extravagant... but money was one thing I had a whole lot of, and I couldn’t really take my ownership shares of the Firezone mines along with me.
If it was going to take a full year to make the thing, then that was what it took. I’d already done all the Runework and design, so there was only the Infusing to complete. It was going to be done right about the time my Masteries finished up...
In the meantime, we had some uninvited guests running about and probably intending to make a nuisance of themselves. It was probably best to stop that nonsense before the Solstice Celebration started.
The day after, the Constitutional Convention of North America was taking place, and wouldn’t that be a rowdy meeting. I was attending on the first day for one reason: I was giving Blessings to all the delegates there after the opening speech. The /tellepathic Markbox they were going to be set up with would increase comprehension speed, speed of discourse, exchange of ideas, and provide absolute context that simple spoken words could not.
Really, the whole Convention could have been held in Markspace. Nobody physically needed to be here, but there was no way the delegates weren’t going to take at least some advantage of being chosen to such a distinguished position.
I had already Blessed hundreds of them, and debates were forming and some positions were being set up. There were representatives of philosophy, religion, businessmen, politicians, entertainers, labor, media, scientists, magi, and definitely members of all the sapient mortal races.
There were also some things trying to infiltrate here, and they had definitely not expected me to use Blessings to organize things. When someone had a phage riding their soul, it couldn’t escape my attention, even if the lower minds wouldn’t notice it.
I was restricting my contributions to viewpoints on the metaview of the Lands, the Gods, and the Alignments. I could certainly give legal and wording advice, and the idea that the document should be written in not just words, but thought itself, gained rapid traction, as intentions of a rule were every bit as important as the rule itself... at least if you weren’t Axiomatic, where interpretation was everything for arguments.
Chaotics would just seek to twist the wording and intent as much as possible, in as many different ways as possible.
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I introduced myself by surrounding the entire clearing they were meeting at in a Wall of Fire. It was Of the Invulnerable World, so it didn’t set the forest on fire, but any of them who stepped close to it were going to burn.
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“Before we begin, let me state that any of you who have eaten mortal flesh have no vote whatsoever in your fates.”
Blood spewed out of the mouths and down the chests of something over two dozen of those in the clearing below... including all six who had remained in wolf form. The air chimed with a very judgmental heavenly ring, and they all felt the magic being plucked.
An instant later, the Shardrays came down and swirled through their ranks as if alive. Bodies of wolves and humans ignited, discorporated under the shredding force of impact, and blew into white vapors.
Clothes split and ripped as those remaining morphed into their fighting forms, and magic thrummed and was made ready to release as they looked around for an enemy.
“I will instantly kill any of you who throw a spell at me,” I went on calmly, walking in over the twenty-foot Wall of jet and silver flames that was burning hot enough to melt adamantine, and the leaves of the trees nearby were just ignoring it. The werewolves below snarled and pointed and tensed at me, all forty of them, and I looked down at them with complete indifference.
“I should kill another ten of you straight off for the blood of the Innocent on your hands.” There were startled snarls as the hands of nearly a dozen of them started dripping fresh blood. “Another five of you are psychopathic killers, but you’ve not killed the innocent, so I’ll abstain. But you ten... I know you now, and I am waiting for an excuse. Go sit down under that tree and don’t say a damn thing, or I off you now and pray for forgiveness later.”
Truth was ringing in my voice, and they Believed me. Their heads lowered, their forms shrank, and they slunk off over to the tree I indicated, trying to stay very quiet indeed.
I turned my eyes to the rest of the werewolves, eight different Great Packs represented. I noted the Borea were there, who had little to no business in North America at all. “Congratulations, you’ve successfully earned my attention again. Given how the last instance of that worked out, I figured you would be wise enough to stay far away from me.”
One of the bigger and more scarred white-furred werewolves stepped forward, lifting a totemic Tool at me, despite the way his ears were curled back. “Where are they?” he demanded.
“Where are what? The rest of the Banes your demon-Possessed bitch queen was feeding souls to in order to strengthen them into invincibility when she finally released them?”
His stance faltered, and the other werewolves all turned their eyes on him. I gathered the status of the Borea had fallen a great deal, and a mere halvyr voicing their shame out loud didn’t help matters.
“The fox-women! You will tell us where they are! We will take our vengeance upon them!”
“Are you giving me an order, little puppy?” I asked, very, very softly.
All of their hairs went up, startling even them. Magic went taut all around them, like a bowstring ready to be launched, humming with so much will and power behind it they couldn’t have gotten spells of their own off if they wanted to.
I was a thought away from killing them all, and they could all feel it.
“This, this is a matter of honor!” was his reply, but it sounded a little whiney-strained for some reason. Circumstances bonuses to Intimidation check, possibly.
“You fed innocent souls to an evil spirit. You turned your claws and fangs upon your kin, and called it testing their strength as you took their lands and territories. You succored a demon in your midst and called her a great queen. You are claiming honor as if it will protect you from the wrath of someone who can kill everyone here in an eyeblink, when all that person sees is a barbaric fool who she is not going to bother inflicting on her friends, who would also chew them to mincemeat.
“You have no honor. It drowned in the blood of the innocent amid the whispers of the Damned long ago. If those two want to find you, they will, and if that happens, the Great Pack of the Borea is going to go extinct.
“You had best hope they never hear of this from me, because they WILL take you up on your death wish, and they WILL kill you all. You are useless parasites and they have no patience for you or your kind at all. Furthermore,” I narrowed my eyes sharply, “you are a very long ways from home, and there is not even a whisper of a ghost of a claim to be your lands.” My eyes slid over to the other Great Packs represented there. “Who allowed these maggots to come here?”
There was some uneasy shuffling among them. A broader, grey-furred werewolf in some derivative of Sioux garb made a gesture. “They claimed a Blood Feud, Lady Traveler. Such things are deeply respected among our people.”
“I see. Very well, then, I ask you this: Do you wish the Borea to become extinct? If you say yes, I can pass their request along, and a year from now, the Curseline of the Borea will no longer trouble you with their Blood Feuds.”
Golden eyes turned to the pale blue of the Borean werewolves, who were crouched and seething with fear and anger that they could not release. My Presence was all around them, ready as tensed arrows, and they could all feel it. They didn’t know what I was going to release on them, but given how easily I had killed those who had eaten human flesh, it would be enough to kill them swiftly.
Every word I was speaking was lined with Truth, and he was trembling at my words.
But not for them. No, they were all twitching at the term Curseline.
Because I certainly wasn’t going to call it a Bloodline!
“We have our differences, but I do not wish them to be slaughtered,” the Manitou Shaman finally told me. “They are great warriors against the Mazed, in their own way.”
“That must be why they beat the rest of you up whenever they can, because they are so good against the Mazed you let them bully you,” I sniffed, and the other Packs bridled... except the Elder Fangs, because they were all dead. I had no use for mortal-eating wolfweres. “Seriously, I will just pass on their Blood Feud to their desired parties, and a year from now, all their territories will be nice and open, and there won’t be any Borea to bully you any longer.”
The utter ring of Truth in my voice had a lot of heads turning the way of the Borea. Cold, cruel, merciless wolfen eyes, in gold and blue and black.
Suddenly, the Boreas realized there was a real chance that they stood an excellent chance of killing off all of their Pack and kin in the next few seconds. They were a brave bunch of sociopaths, but that still made their eyes widen a little.
They were supposed to be the great warriors there at the end times, standing against the unmaking of the world where gods and demons went to war, not slaughtered by a couple of sexy foxwomen!