‘You keep surprising me with your prudence,’ Freya said as they ascended the dangerous path back to the armoury, retracing the route that overlooked the ravine down to the river of molten rock below. For most of the journey, Ori regaled her of the events of the last day of the trial, the sudden and brutal assault on the palace, Harriet's ascension to High Queen and his own Refinement at the hands of the Crucible. For her part, Freya mostly listened, her mood more contemplative and distracted instead of displaying strong emotions one way or another. As they passed by streams of blue liquid that had once resembled fluorescent lava, Ori realised he now knew exactly what it was—Aether. This entire prison wasn’t just a single Aether rift, but a confluence of hundreds, perhaps even thousands of rifts that clustered around a primordial confluence of unknown magnitude, one perhaps great enough to have led Freya on her trail to the missing god.
Thinking about his seed of Aethermancy and nearing one of these waterfalls of corrupted Aether, he had tried to channel his conscious and subconscious will towards the wild chimeric power he could feel within, but to no avail. Not only was the Aether far from its source, likely a tear in reality that bisected rock and lava, but contaminants and chimeric transmutations within the Aether had turned it from something potentially usable into something Ori figured was as toxic as radioactive waste. Returning to Freya’s observation as they neared the isolated ledge beside the armoury, Ori replied internally, ‘I do learn, eventually. I mean, if you, the person obsessed with finding this god, don’t think meeting this god would be a good idea, then who am I to disagree? No, I’m actually looking forward to meeting these celestials. If there are really dozens of these righteous, Sovereign-ranking badasses ideologically opposed to these demons and just needing to be freed, then I figure breaking out of here should be a lot easier than I feared.’
Freya sighed. 'Remember what I said, Ori. Many of these celestials won't be in their right mind; they may see fiends or ill omens where none exist, they may be so corrupted to have devolved, or become fallen or infernal. It is said that some of the most powerful demons; the devils of the 8th hell, were fallen angels who, after falling out with their creator, were corrupted into infernal beings that through minions and subsidiaries, now control the majority of infernally aligned creatures.'
'Let me guess, is one of these devils called Lucifer?' he asked.
'You... guess correctly, Ori. Do legends of such exist in your realm?'
'Let’s just say I would be surprised if any of our legends didn’t have a living, breathing reality out here, within what you guys call Fate. If I had to guess, your realities influenced our legends, likely through dreams, but I might be reaching.' Ori considered.
'Your theory sounds as good as any. What I don’t understand is how or why Earth was outside of fate. A whole realm shielded from Mana… Monstrous,' Freya said with a shudder.
'Crucible said someone was farming grace?' Ori asked.
'I don’t really know, Ori. It's as good a reason as any to cloister so many of you outside of fate as I can think of, but still, such thoughts always lead to higher realm politics, which we are unqualified to ponder.'
'Maybe. Look, it’s up ahead,' Ori said as they rounded the corner towards the Armoury.
Cautiously, Ori made his way to the entrance, the thick wooden door with a barred portal window was the only way they had of seeing whether the storage room was currently occupied. He peered through the gap holding his breath, unsure of what to expect. Five heartbeats passed, then ten, and twenty with not a sound before Ori finally exhaled, gently twisting the knob before making his way in.
Ori froze, heart in his mouth, as he turned to face a Greater Demon startled awake by his presence. It sat on a stool, a drinking flagon discarded on the floor beside a comically oversized hammer. Ori’s perceptions ramped up as the greater infernal demon reached for his weapon. Quicker than thought, an arcane hand halted the demon's grasping by the wrist, its inertia enough to contest the movement, its grip enough to squish flesh and turn the already dark, greasy skin an unpleasant purple. Just as the demon was about to stand to scream in defiance, two Arcane Hands strangled the demon's neck, pinning him to the chair.
Unlike the Awakened demon, a greater demon was two ranks or at least a hundred times more powerful and it showed, its skin like boiled leather, the muscles under its neck bunching and resisting the crushing pressure of his grip.
Ori's heart raced, a part of his mind a hair's breadth from igniting his domain, while he searched the armoury, his fourth hand guided by Vision of the Progenitor towards a slender sword similar to a Rapier. Three feet long with an unusual black cross guard, the blade seemed to have basic enchantments, a void affinity and low enough physical and magical requirements for him to chance to hold. His phantasmal hand unsheathed the weapon as the struggling demon looked on in horror, its free hand drunkenly scrabbling for a sidearm as its legs kicked against the hands choking and pinning it down.
The blade slid through a gap in the armour of the thrashing demon's shoulder blade, entering from the top to slide down until the blade pierced the heart. Wrenching and twisting the blade, Ori was rewarded with the evacuation of the demon's bowels and a brief fountain of blood as its heart beat its last. With Vision of the Progenitor, Ori witnessed its spirit disintegrate into Peritia and Mana, the demon's lifeforce evaporating with its final breath as its soul left its body.
Watching the process of death so closely unnerved Ori, as if undertaking a profane abuse of privacy. His breathing was heavy despite the stink and the blood that even now dripped from the ceiling. He relaxed his grip, Arcane Hands disappearing as his right hand, he'd only just realised, lowered after being poised to strike, the artefact will's Channel Lightning primed to release.
‘Ori, are you alright?’ Freya asked, her voice urgent with concern.
‘Fine. ‘You okay?’
‘Am I okay? Ori, you just butchered a Greater Ranked demon as if it was nothing? Aren’t you still a mortal?’
Realising that this was likely the first time Freya had seen him in combat since refinement, Ori grunted. ‘No, not really. I could probably awaken any moment now, even without enough Peritia to do so, at least that’s what Crucible said,’ Ori waved his hand, the feeling of reality's tenuous hold over his mortal form, more evident with sudden movements. ‘And I tend to believe it. Anyway, shouldn’t that have pushed you over the edge? How long till you evolve?’
Freya was silent for a long moment. ‘One more.’ She said in a small voice.
‘One more what? One more demon?’
‘Yes, a Greater Demon.’ She said, concern colouring her words as if she wanted to ask if killing the first one had been a fluke or something well within his capabilities.
‘Alright then.’ Ori said simply, unsure of the answer to the unspoken question.
'It’s good that you managed to kill it quickly. Offensive spellcasting within an armoury is an uncertain endeavour, one I doubt you’d have been able to pull off as cleanly again, without attracting attention.' Freya said, coming back to herself.
Ori grunted. 'Not exactly clean this, innit?' Ori gestured to the mess. 'Fuck’sake. What should we do with the body?'
'Nothing, get what you want and leave, with any luck, they’ll attribute this to internal strife. Either way, to linger does no one any good,' Freya reasoned, and Ori agreed.
Mindful of the fact that while large in comparison to what he’d normally be able to carry with him, the space within his Ring of Void Storage was limited which was just as well, as Ori would have stolen the entire armoury if he could have. Instead, Ori prioritised practical things, like cloth and leather clothing as Freya had warned them of the frozen, mountainous conditions above. There was no food, but powders, Ori believed to be reagents or catalysts lay in unlabeled glass jars. All of those were swept into his ring.
Next, he sorted weapons to arm the prisoners his plan intended to break out. Weapons primarily with celestial affinities or requirements favourable to their kind. Swords, Spears, Flails, and Morningstars all entered his ring, alongside shields that glowed so strongly in enchantments, that Ori was hesitant to touch them due to likely having too low characteristic requirements to safely handle.
In addition to the best weapons he could find for the champions he intended to rescue, Ori searched for more mundane weapons, an Awakened Longbow with a satchel of mixed arrowheads and a quiver of thirty, three-foot-long shafts. Shivs, knives, and hammers, blunt and unwieldy, but hopefully better than not having anything at all, if he found more prisoners he needed to arm such as others abducted from Earth.
Lastly, Ori searched for and then gingerly extracted items either emanating the most mana or with dense complex knots of enchantments. These included some wands and staves, enchanted head gear neither he nor Freya could understand. Most of these artefacts were items Ori couldn’t use due to having the wrong characteristics but hoped to study or reverse engineer. However, several Sources, and artefacts that generated mana, gave him ideas. These could be used as crude mana taps, empowering enchantments without a physical presence being required.
'Do you have a way of telling me what this weapon is?' Ori asked Freya as he cleaned blood from the blade with a piece of torn cloth, his mind trying to solve a problem recent combat experiences had exposed.
'Not really. I have no mana to perform a divination ritual, all I can read from the Library is that it is called, ‘Felsner, Awakened Estoc of the Piercing Void.'
'Hmmm,' Ori grumbled. Already cringing at the future necessity of reshaping and re-enchanting the weapon as he outgrew it, Ori prioritised near-term survival. He soul-bound the ordinary weapon held in his hands, connecting the parts of his soul newly released by refinement using his Bondweaver instincts and Quickened Perception. The weapon disappeared only to reappear held in the grip of an Arcane Hand five yards away.
It was a simple weapon he could always summon, could never lose or have taken away from him for long, and it offered a more elegant solution than strangling, wrestling, or always trying to use their blades against adversaries from a distance, Ori reflected. Crafting such a weapon capable of these feats without a soul bond should have been possible, but without a crafting guide and with the grim understanding that when he inevitably came to re-enchant the weapon, his greater knowledge of enchantment languages and techniques would enable him to craft something far more appropriate, Ori resisted his perfectionist instincts and settled for the obvious practicality of having a soul bound melee weapon in-hand, right now.
Experimentally, Ori used Arcane Hands to see if he could wield any of the melee weapons that he couldn't lift with his physical hands. Just like the weapons he had taken from the Awakened demons, shivs and daggers often felt heavy or turned in his hands after use, while the heavier one- and two-handed melee weapons felt ungainly. Swords and staves seemed the most comfortable, but he was surprised, though ultimately disappointed, after he tried the remaining weapons around him. It seemed he could bypass most of the physical requirements by using Arcane Hands, but with all but the shoddiest weapons, the enchantments and affinities bound to their effects meant none of the weapons felt right in his magical grip. Not trusting any to turn on him in battle, Ori cast one long, last look at the raided armoury.
He considered the items in his ring, weapons carrying celestial affinities or items Ori considered of interest for enchantment research. All of the one and two-handed weapons were far too heavy for even his Arcane Hands to comfortably wield, leading Ori to consider them being Sovereign-ranked artefacts. There was one item, the crystal hilt of an obsidian dagger that he'd found interesting; the broken-off end of the blade, protruding just an inch beyond the small crossguard, seemed far more ominous than the Estoc he had just bound himself to, and with characteristic requirements that, either due to the broken nature of the blade or his set of affinities, seemed to be in alignment, Ori strongly considered bonding the last remaining parts of his soul to the broken sidearm. However, Freya had a different suggestion.
‘You killed more with spells than a blade, yes? Though you have no offensive spells that I can remember. Why don't you change that?’ Ori considered her words as she brought out the Nascent Channeling Wand of Lightning, its Artefact Will stirring as Vision of the Progenitor blazed and covered it in prismatic light.
‘You mean, form a bond with the will, and not the wand, don't you?’ Ori said, growing in understanding.
‘Yes, if it is willing and you are able.’
‘A… I think I could, it would be a familiar bond, my… instincts tell me.’
‘Yes.’ Freya answered. ‘Divian’s Forgotten Rituals found Under the Hill, section 14, the familiar bond I used with you, though you’ll need to modify it.’
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Ori nodded as the knowledge from their bond flooded Ori's mind. ‘Alright, that was a good idea, thanks. Let me see if it’ll work.’
Ori became the Bondweaver and delved into the weak connection that formed between him and the Artefact Will. It couldn’t communicate to him using words, even its emotions were scattered fragments of impulses that sparked and flickered erratically. He’d wanted a rational, sober conversation, a union born from mutual understanding and shared goals. However, the will was more like a bumble bee, something he could stimulate, but not communicate complex goals and desires with.
So the Bondweaver simply observed.
In the quiet of the armoury, fledgling instincts and a natural patience guided the Bondweaver into a fugue state where Split Minds watched the Will while contemplating the essence of their affinities.
Ori knew of the nature of lightning; his earthly knowledge of electricity, up to the graduate level in electronic engineering, had provided him with a firmer grounding than most. He recalled his surprise and amazement at how charge truly propagated through circuits via the electric field, and not electrons, how flux, alteration of current and electromagnetic fields induced currents in other objects, and how those fields ultimately dissipated by grounding into greater seas of charge and potential. Since then, Ori had been exposed to the arcane side, the primal face of lightning. Its wilful, capricious nature had flummoxed and frustrated many with the affinity. So misunderstood as something random and chaotic, in Ori’s mind, lightning was expressive and yearned very much like he did, for freedom and the ability to connect.
And still, there was more.
His affinity to Lightning and Light had already grown well past Threshold and Immersion, to the stage of Integration, a stage Ori knew few ever attained. It was the last step most mages would dare reach, as the risks of ego death and evolution into an elemental were too great. But Ori saw beyond this, a greater authority than that of just lightning. Of charge, fields, and auroras. Of electrons and protons, positrons and antiprotons; terrifyingly destructive plasmas with hitherto unprecedented focus and control.
‘More.’ It wasn’t a voice or a spoken word, more an intent emitted so strongly and firmly by the will as to leave Ori in no doubt of its intentions. He moved to a part of the Armoury well away from most of the magical and metallic objects and channelled his lightning-aspected Mana into the wand. The mana hummed with his comprehension, his desire, and belief in the potential for growth beyond Integration, of a new authority they could fashion as they willed.
‘More,’
Ori began unpacking the Arcane Sources, each one producing as much mana per second as he did, but with pools substantially larger. Feeding mana through himself into the Will, Ori realised the tenuous connection between them wasn’t enough, and without thought, Ori sliced the palm holding the Lightning Wand with the broken Obsidian dagger, his blood widening the connection, a stable link for knowledge and mana to flow. The Bondweaver then guided the fledgling spirit into forming its own Mana Nexus, lightning mana, and now a touch of his own Transcendent and Modern Warfare affinities responding to both of their desires.
And then the Will evolved.
As the wand smoked and burnt to ashes in his grip, a maelstrom of Peritia formed as Mana from a minor moment of enlightenment swirled into a distinctly sapient presence. Its evolution consumed the entirety of Ori’s Peritia as it greedily bound itself with his soul.
‘Yes!’ It shrieked as if in answer to a question Ori had asked it.
Meanwhile, Ori doubled over as the newly forged familiar bond soulcrafted his spirit and rewrote his page of fate.
> In the heart of a battle, amidst the clashing of bloody swords and cries of warriors, an unnamed lightning wand awoke to, if not consciousness then awareness. Its form, once crafted by mortal hands, now had a spirit forged from the essence of storm and strife. It drank in the conflict around it, ignorant of its power and yet compelled by an inner desire to connect with the world through experience and repetition.
>
> It had learned from its wielders; its first spell, Channel Lightning, came as a revelation. The wand, held by a sorcerer draped in battle-worn robes, unleashed a powerful surge of electricity towards a formidable troll. Its power was enough to illuminate flesh beneath the skin, blacken bones, and cook it inside out. It had felt power, the will and purpose behind power, but more importantly, it had felt connection, that impulse to bridge and change the world with power. Each conflict thereafter sharpened its mastery, as it absorbed the ambient flux of war and conflict.
>
> As years turned into decades, the wand's powers expanded. It learned Chain Lightning during a siege under dark, swollen clouds. Each bolt it cast split from one foe to another, chaining their fates together in luminous agony. Call Lightning was mastered atop a hill, under a sky punctured by the spears of incessant rain, where it called down the heavens to smite its wielder's opponents.
>
> Greater Stun was the last spell it learned, in a skirmish where the air was thick with desperation and magic. The wielder, sensing the balance between victory and defeat, released a pulse that disrupted the very nerves and muscles in their enemies' bodies, halting them in their tracks and thus turning the tide.
>
> After a forbidden ritual, demons from beyond were summoned and amidst screams and chaos, the wands previous wielder was taken never to be seen again. The artefact was then abandoned in a cold, dark storage, lost to the world, its connection to fate dimming with the passage of untold ages. Time eroded its memory, and it slept in a silent, lonely exile.
>
> Then came a new wielder, a mortal that became more, showed it more. A miracle whose presence pierced the wand’s dormant consciousness. With unspeakable words that resonated in the depths of its core and a silent promise: to become more than a mere instrument of power, to evolve and never be alone again. Sensing a kinship and a shared destiny, the will evolved.
‘An irregular elemental.’ Freya said, her tone awed and quiet as if in the presence of a babe. Ori rolled over, wiping blood away instead of the expected drool, snot and tears before casting Purifying Light and Lesser Restoration on himself.
‘I am.’ the elemental said, its voice fully aware, its mind rational, its emotions present in a way Freya, Ori now realised, naturally shielded.
Meanwhile, after coming fully back to wakefulness, Ori found the newly formed elemental as a ball of lightning floating where his wand once was. It was blue-white and purple, the size of his fist, and levitated serenely in the air. Every so often, delicate fingers of lightning arced out towards him, harmlessly tickling his flesh.
‘Hi,’ Ori said, his attention on the creature.
"Hi, I am... Lysara," she introduced herself, her voice now carrying a pride and distinctly feminine quality. It was quick and intense, intermittently buzzing with branching filaments of current that lazily flickered in and out of existence.
'Lysara?' Ori wondered. 'Were you always called that or did you name yourself? And a female, I didn't know elementals could... you know?'
'I became Lysara upon awakening, and with it, a woman.' She answered, simply.
'Okay?' Ori wondered, though a dawning part of him was somewhat unsurprised given the recent trajectory of his life.
'You are my partner Ori, and you are a male, and so I must be female,'
'Why?' Freya asked, genuinely bewildered by the situation while Ori rubbed his forehead in a futile attempt to stave off an incipient headache.
'Like charges repel, opposite charges attract.' Lysara said as if it was as simple as that.
'What is my life right now?' Ori groaned to himself, happy enough to leave things be and focus on more pressing tasks.
‘Okay, so yeah, welcome to the fam, Lysara.’ Ori grunted as he stood and dusted himself off. His awareness of his surroundings fully returned as Split Mind divided his thoughts. He could feel the structure of four new spell forms, Greater Stun as well as Channel, Chain and Call Lightning. Beyond the newly accessible spell forms and the updates to Bondweaver's Legend, Ori could feel a new, Inherent Affinity, one Ori instinctively knew was related to lightning, but of a greater, all-encompassing authority.
‘I guess introductions are in order, I’m Ori Suba, I am, or at least was Human. I'm a mortal White Magi of the Chromatic Order, and also an apprentice Enchanter. It’s good to meet you. This is Freya Creisidottir, my first familiar.’
‘Ori, I thank you for ascension, and I look forward to sisterhood with you Sprite, Freya.’
Freya’s attention jolted as she heard her own name mentioned. ‘I shouldn’t be surprised by now, but yet, here I am. Welcome, Lysara, Lesser Elemental of... Flux?’ She finished uncertainly.
The hairs on Ori’s chest and arms stood on end as he instinctively reached out to the elemental, purple plasma bridged the distance between them, less a bolt of lightning and more a diffuse tendril of charge that reminded him of the atmosphere of stars. Between Lysara and his outstretched finger, the hum of an alternating polarity, of a… Flux, produced all sorts of divergent field effects, Vision of the Progenitor could now see.
'Yes bruv!' Ori chuckled, and after a few seconds playing with the effect, he cancelled the freeform casting of their shared affinity with Lysara, one that had just become an intrinsic aspect of who he was. He knew that it wouldn’t have been possible without his many talents; his Bondweaver accolade, his Quickened Perception, his high lightning comprehension, and the entirety of the Peritia he had gained before meeting Freya, but looking at the newly evolved entity floating next to him, he couldn’t help feeling like he’d just gained another person as important as any of his current relationships.
‘As we didn’t get a chance to really work this out beforehand, I can offer you a pact; for progress and future growth and connections, a fifteen per cent portion of my Peritia as well as reciprocal insights into our shared affinity. In exchange, I ask for your companionship, aid, and insights as my familiar until one of us decides to break this bond. Do you accept?’ Ori asked.
‘I do,’ Lysara agreed.
It was a formality, but Ori was starting to rely on these formalities, which was just as well as he now lived in a world where a misspoken word or errant thought could have lasting consequences, and nothing could be taken for granted.
‘How do you feel? Do you need anything? Want to eat or need any more mana?’ Ori asked, looking at the empty sources mostly consumed during the awakening.
‘I am fine. I may ground myself in the land beneath your feet and gather charge until I am called upon. If that suits our shared purpose?’ Lysara said, her speech patterns reverting to an oddly formal manner.
‘Yeah, it does, for now. We will need to break out of this prison, and that will require conflict.’
‘I was born during war and storm, I am no stranger to conflict, I shall await it eager to show all that I can do. Until then, Ori,’ it said before sinking into the ground, Ori’s sense of her presence spreading out beneath his feet felt oddly comforting.
'Okay. Am I missing anything?' Ori wondered, somewhat strained and exhausted from the event.
'Armour?'
Ori nodded, 'The plate stuff is quite bulky, and with all the sizes, I wasn’t sure—'
'Pick the biggest, with the best enchantments, and a few sets of mortal armour just in case,' Freya interjected. Ori recalled his experiences with mortal armour, bile rising to his throat as he remembered the cursed blade sliding through the useless armour as if it was wet tissue before parting his ribs and the sudden, shocking feeling of creaming death stealing his consciousness.
Ori cleared his throat. 'You sure that won’t just slow them down?' Ori asked internally, less than convinced.
'Beyond food that you can’t find here, what else could be more useful? It does you no good to leave this place with room in your ring to spare. Worst case, you could always discard those pieces later if you find things more valuable.'
'Alright,' Ori said, piling the bundles of leather and chainmail, wondering at his adverse reaction towards wearing armour. 'Is it normal for mages to not want to wear armour?' Ori wondered, his thoughts touching upon an old game trope. 'Should I be looking for mage robes or something?'
'Yes. It's normal. As affinities exist, so too do antipathies, and a mage, whose dexterity and awareness are paramount, might not have the greatest desires for plate and heavy armour,' Freya explained. ‘In your case, detrimental experiences are reinforcing your aversion aren’t they?’
‘It seems so.’
‘Be mindful of your antipathies. In battle, with all else equal, having an antipathy against an aspect or an effect can be a serious, even lethal disadvantage.’
Ori nodded, then left the armoury.
----------------------------------------
'This should work,' Ori said, as he finished channelling Lesser Echo Print into the dirt beside the invisible ward. He walked a few paces away, then quickened the enchantment by casting Lesser Life Spark. The effect, an enchantment-breaking technique Ori had learned in Lunaesidhe, caused the once solid, rocky wall that had been the abrupt dead end to the tunnel to ripple like a mirror lake disturbed by a stone.
The ripples increased until the illusion and physical ward evaporated, the rocky texture of the false wall disappearing to reveal the continuation of the cave, the orange light of intermittent torches burning on hooks causing Ori to inspect them through his Quickened Perception. A Mana-Permanent fire spell appeared to keep sticks of lacquered wood wrapped in a wick perpetually burning. Ori shook his head in mild wonder.
'What is it?' Freya asked.
'I just forget sometimes, I'm literally on another world, I've been to several now. More than any human from Earth has before me unless these abductions have been happening for far longer than I thought.'
They exited the cave to enter a part of the network that opened itself up to a natural cavern. Massive stalagmites and stalactites covered the ceiling and ringed the clearing, while the luminescent blue light of the Aetheric falls added to the space’s bizarre beauty.
'For fuck’sake,' Ori said under his breath, ducking back into cover after seeing what he just saw. Unfortunately, several hundred infernal demons had arrayed themselves around cooking pits and giant slab tables; they were merry, joyful scenes with many a demon eating large hunks of meat, meat Ori didn’t even want to contemplate the source of. Ori exhaled, his second familiar bond somehow seeming to ground him, his spike of fear and frustrations sinking into the earth.
'Freya, did you know about this demon horde between here and the celestials?'
'I... I didn't think there would be so many,' she answered, sounding oddly uncertain. Ori sighed in frustration.
'Whatever,' he said, as he crawled, making his way around the wide cave opening and the feast hall below. Hidden by rough ground and five-meter-tall stalagmites, Ori squatted and observed, his mind whirling through options.
'Is there another way around?' Ori asked Freya internally while Vision of the Progenitor mentally categorised and catalogued the adversaries below.
'No, not without going through likely even more contested areas.' Freya answered.
'Any suggestions?'
'Maybe wait a few hours? This could all die down, though I wouldn't trust our current location to remain hidden for long. Their hounds will pick up our scent,' Freya advised.
'So wait, but not too long else they'll find us. Alright,' Ori said, exasperation growing as he counted fifteen Greater Demons, several dozen Nascent Rankers including spellcasters, with around eighty to a hundred Awakened demons and razor-toothed, bear-sized hounds.
'I am not a fighter, Ori. I was a lecturer, a researcher; I have little experience with fighting.'
'And I was a student, but, sure, alright, I'm sorry. Just, tell me what you can. Do you recognise any from dreamwalking?'
'Few, though from this distance it's hard to be sure. Most of the Imps focus on spells that curse, rot or cause pain. I do believe one of the casters is a succubus, a mesmer, though only at the Nascent rank. There is a chance the Warden might be in residence also, so be careful.'
'The Warden?'
'Sovereign ranker, very tough and very resistant to magic.'
Ori grunted, his thoughts halting, before spinning off to devise ways of dealing with yet another 'Eltitus' level threat. 'Right, well, I guess we'll need to come up with some countermeasures for that. Can they detect it if I use a little from here?'
'As long as it's nothing too flashy, the Aether in the air will spoil most of their ability to detect magic at a distance.'
'Alright... Okay,' Ori repeated, slowly nodding to himself. His affinity for Modern Warfare screamed at his opportunity before a plan slowly assembled in his mind.