“Alright, back to what you were doing! Figure out how to maximize those Healing uses after away missions!”
“HUP!” they shouted back out to him, saluting him to the temple once, and then immediately breaking apart and flowing back in the directions they’d come from as smoothly as they had arrived. I could imagine a mundane troop commander watching them move and his throat going dry at the ease with which they dispersed. No bumping, knocking, wasted motion, and they basically didn’t even have to slow down.
Cadence was some subtly awesome shit. Only hiveminds, clones, constructs, and things like Amazons could do it.
“That could be so damn important for their staying power, Sama,” he mused, watching them fall back into whatever they were doing, while some of them were running away to inform the others out of range quickly. Word would spread fast.
If they could use /tells, it would have taken only seconds.
“Question for you.” His pale violet eyes, receded under that heavy brow, turned on me. “Why don’t you have any erhiar?” He blinked at the question. “You know, Choosers of the Slain? Valkyrie?”
He blinked again. “Valkyrie? Who in the heck sponsors Valkyrie? I don’t remember any from in game…”
“Ah. That’s because they are technically inferior to Amazons, and weren’t presented as an option because of that. Valus sponsors most of them, if you start reading the texts of His faith. As I recall, the gods of Good share about five hundred between them all.”
He blinked slowly. “And nobody noticed this?” he asked sharply. “Are we blind? Another five hundred Pacts open to women who want to fight?”
I lifted both hands. “Don’t look at me. I haven’t been able to call up an Angel and ask about the differences between the Pacts granted by the gods and goddesses. I’m presuming that Valkyries have much less strict adherence to the traditional Amazonian template restrictions, so they can use different weapons and armor. Also, there’s some rivalry between the traditions, as might be expected, but nothing violent.”
He looked at me grimly, then away, thinking. “Every damn Devoted of the Five is already hitting on the girls, looking for their own private Shield Maiden to play step and fetch for them. Needless to say, they aren’t too happy with being treated this way when the Powered women gamers aren’t treated the same way. Most of the divine Casters with us are family members of Amazons, and so are protected fiercely, just like family should be.”
His massive fingers drummed at the air, and then he shook his head. “No, I’m not going to recruit these erhiar. Valkyries. Whatever. I’ve got my hands full with Amazons, and it’s a different Tradition.” He turned to look at me. “You should, however. Get the details for them, and go looking for daddy’s girls to fill the quota.”
I considered that. It would definitely give me a unique force to call my own. I nodded slowly. “I’ll get the details from a Celestial, figure out where to get recruits from.” I noticed the subtle shift in his stride that indicated we were closing in on his goal, one of the many Shaped buildings the Ringlord had thrown up over the past few months with casual walk-throughs, or so I’d been told. The inhumanly precise construction was a dead giveaway, and the utter lack of tools or mold-marks on the brick-like facing.
He opened the double doors, ushered me inside, and followed me in.
There were ten Amazons inside, and by the plumes on the helms in front of them, all Captains of other Amazons. To a one, their eyes all lit up when they saw him as they rose, and dimmed coolly when they saw me.
“Captains,” he greeted them all with a nod.
“Commander Briggs!” they chimed back in harmonious altos. They could have been a choir.
He moved around to the head of the table, where an appropriately oversized chair was waiting for him. There was rather too much detailed carving on it for the simple use he put it to, but I could tell a whole lot of love had been spent carefully etching out the QL 27 bit of furniture, so I didn’t say anything. I knew he hadn’t asked for it, and I also knew he noticed and appreciated it.
He seated himself, they all sat down, and I stood behind him patiently.
“Before we begin, introductions all around. This is Grandmaster Sama Rantha, who by the consensus of everyone with a damn lick of common sense I’ve run into, was accorded the most dangerous woman in the Power of Ten. That makes her likely the most dangerous woman in the world. And if you think Seven Dragons would have something to say about it, I already asked her, and Seven just laughed at the idea of crossing swords with Sama Rantha.
“She is here because she is far more dangerous than any you. You all want to be her when you grow up.” That earned some strange expressions on their faces. “The reason you find her presence so offensive is because she is a Hagchild. If she were not a gamer, that would mean her mother is a Hag, and Amazons and Hags are mortal enemies. So, look at her, and make a mental note to yourselves, ‘The reason I don’t like her is because I’m an Amazon and I’ve been programmed not to.’"
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Their expressions all shifted again, looking rather unsightly, and they sighed almost as one. “Yeah, exactly. You should be admiring the hell out of her. You’re just going to despise her because she’s a Hagchild, and for no other reason.
“But that’s fine, it just means that she has to deal with you firmly to get your attention and your respect.
“I brought her in here because she’s going to utterly revolutionize how you and your sisters coordinate and communicate. In short, you know all that /tell shit, the Allegiance announcements that insanely focused bastard at the top puts out, the Fellowship chatting that all the Powered can do?” They all nodded slowly, eager lights coming up in their eyes. “You’ll be able to do that shit, with her permission.”
Ten sets of lovely eyes wanted to burn a hole through me.
Briggs introduced each of the Captains, making comments about their history and capabilities as I studied each in turn. They were all Sevens or Eights; none of them had pressed for Ten, which spoke highly of their trust in Briggs. He was having them build Foundation Levels. Given that Amazons took twice the Karma to Level up and buy Masteries or Feats of normal people, getting too high a Level would make it really costly to gain ancillary skills.
They all had specialties, such as shield maiden, ladyglaive, archer, cavalry, and the like. There were no Amazon Casters, of course. The Special Teams division was actually headed up by Briggs’ sister Kristina, a green-eyed blonde giving me the hairy eyeball despite knowing that the distrust she was feeling wasn’t justified in the slightest.
“Good afternoon.” They all flinched together as my Diamond Vajra broke over them. It was incredibly intimidating, and I had their instant attention. Distaste fell away in favor of exaggerated caution and fear. I was freaking dangerous, and they suddenly Knew It, right down to their bones. “Before we begin, Briggs, please go over the details of the Reserve with them, so they aren’t out of the loop.”
They listened to every word as he explained the situation with the Healing Reserve, and nodded to show they understood the implications quickly. They assured him they’d work out systems to maximize the use of Healing Soul, and we were off.
Using my Vajra and an Intimidation modifier of +50 (maybe a bit more), I kept their attention and focus admirably. I went through the implications of the Marks and what they could do, how they were applied, their range and speed. Importantly, I noted that the Intellect Marks could instantly train them in any two Skills I knew.
I noted how I could raise normal animals to instant sentience without having to wait for Awakenings. I then noted that building magic Circles that could Awaken specific types of animals was possible, and I was building some for the Bloodguard. I think they began to salivate and call me ‘that damn sword witch’ about then.
I then displayed my Stat line for them. Despite themselves, they went rather white. Yeah, they were ultimate women, sure enough.
“Oh sweet Aethra,” Amazon Monica, of African ancestry, murmured, staring at those numbers. “What kind of monster are you?”
“I am the total fucking nightmare of anything that wants to threaten this world. I am going to empower the Primos to stand up and fight back against anything and everything that they can. I am death on wheels, and if you like, you can come along for the ride.” Despite themselves, they swallowed in Amazon competitiveness. “Briggs brought me here not just to tell you about this, but to get the initial Marks drawn.” I held up my black-nailed hands, suddenly looking very much like razor-sharp claws. “So break out your Visual Files and start making lists of who is going to get what, starting with yourselves.”
They all looked at one another. Amazon Cheryl, Oriental in origin, spoke up. “Ah, Grandmaster Sama, we can’t make a Visual File…”
I looked down at Briggs and raised an eyebrow. He just shrugged his massive shoulders. “Concentration Ranks were low on the priority level for non-Casters. Plenty of time to pick them up with an Expert or Monk Level.”
“Well, I know one Skill everyone else is getting,” I said dryly. “Especially if they want the Sun Saves, and to take advantage of the Man On Top’s bloody Monarch’s Mantle!” They all winced despite themselves, even Briggs. “I gather you’re going to want more Strength, oaf?” I asked, slapping his shoulder. It was loud, like whacking a stone. Sources ran off Strength and Charisma.
His pale violet eyes lit up. Sooo arresting. “That would be pretty cool. Sure.”
Ten sets of mental daggers landed in my chest about then.
“Good, you get to go first. Off with the upper body wear, I’ll put them on your back.” Despite themselves, the Amazons smiled expectantly at this. He rolled up his eyes, but didn’t utter a word of protest as he began to disrobe.
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He had a lot of muscle, and a lot of body hair, way more than a human. It actually ran in a mane down his back, and was disconcertingly soft and fuzzy. I’d been expecting something more like human hair. La la la...
I had to snip away some along his lower ribs, and then I etched the Mark onto him, not even bothering to have him take his Crystal Shield down. The Amazons grit their teeth as our ki clashed and rippled over them, and I plunged my nails into his hide, peeled off pieces of him, and then literally spit onto my finger and acid-washed the wound to make a permanent scar.
He just grunted there, sprawled out on the table, his chin on his sister’s cloak. “This is the part that is going to hurt,” I told him with a smile, and then I slapped him with my palm.
My Strength Mark was on my palm, my ki was like needle spikes, and I drove it into the Mark, activated it, and stabbed my soul into his.
“Ahg!” It was only a small slip, but the sheer fact he let it slip let everyone know just how much this was hurting. The glowing Mark on my hand flared, and I pulled it back from the formerly hissing wound, now also glowing faint white.
“And that’s it.” I slapped my palm back to my waist, returning the Mark to where it belonged. “Time?”
“From the time you started carving, ninety-seven seconds,” Captain Alicia confirmed.
“Meh, two minutes. Thirty an hour. It’s going to take a while to get everyone.”
“Captain? Is the telepathy working?” Monica asked quickly.
-’course not. That would make Sama truthful, or something.- I /snickered to him.
He pushed himself back off the table, testing out his new strength even as he got back to his feet and towered over all of us. “Yes. The chatting function we will test out as soon as you all get yours. Shirts off, ladies.”
They all gave him just that kind of smile and look, and he just looked back without batting an eye.
“Two of you help hold the others down.” They all looked at me as I said that. “It’s going to hurt. He’s got a Fort save probably 15 points higher than you. He let something slip. So…?”
Their lips pursed, trying to render that in real terms. At the very least, eightfold more pain…