Amdirlain’s PoV - Culerzic
When Torm appeared, Amdirlain had to cut off the explicit lyrics she’d been experimenting with, but they echoed back to her in the sudden silence.
“Interesting song choice,” offered Torm.
Amdirlain gave a bashful smile. “I was trying to get the inflections and emotions right for maximum impact on Isa.”
“I find it interesting you can sing the instrumental and words. It’s been years since I heard that song,” murmured Torm. “Though the words were different.”
“What words did you know it with?” asked Amdirlain.
“I won’t try to sing them, and I’m only sure of the first verse,” Torm said, and gaining a thousand-yard-stare after clearing his throat, began to chant.
“I dreamed a dream last night
of silk and fair furs,
of a pillow so deep and soft,
a peace with no disturbance.”
Torm paused, but his gaze stayed distant. “That’s all I remember from the original version, along with fragments of other lines.”
“Where Moke’s lyrics imply other pillows and furs,” quipped Amdirlain, trying to shift his mood.
With his expression still distant, Torm gave an absent nod. “Yes, it does. I’ve heard several variations of it, but I prefer the original. To me, it''s about needing peace and time to set the world''s worries aside. But Moke, playing in taverns, would no doubt earn more coin with his version than the original.”
“Old memories?”
“Even now, bits and pieces from my life tease at unexpected moments,” replied Torm shaking his head. “I remembered a Skald sitting near a fireplace with folks I’m fairly sure were family around me. But I couldn’t be sure of all their names or when it occurred. When did you learn that song from Moke?”
“N?r arranged a surprise visit today to test my Charisma control,” explained Amdirlain. “He’s ?different, or at least coming here put him in a different mood. How did your latest trip go?”
“The latest information from Munais let us save a few dozen elven children from a compound. Ulat is currently getting them back to their home world,” Torm said, giving her a quick hug.
The news of the rescued children twisted Amdirlain’s guts, knowing she’d asked him to stop. “I’m glad you saved them.”
“Munais is being recalled soon. First, she’s looking to gain extra information on other mortal allies of the Wizard. Caltzan wants to know if they also have regular involvement in selling mortals to demons. That way, they can plan our next areas of focus,” offered Torm.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Amdirlain smiled. “That’s good news; I’ll be glad when she’s out of there. What would you like to do now?”
“Do you have time for some sparring?” asked Torm. “I’m supposed to meet Caltzan again in a few hours.”
Amdirlain forced aside a knot of anxiety and nodded. “I suppose I can fit you into my schedule. Since I didn’t blow Moke’s brain out, I’ll be getting back to my standard training schedule now.”
“What are you trying next with True Song?”
Amdirlain flashed him a cheeky smile. “I’m going to try recharging Roher’s purification grenade.”
“Do I want to know what you intend to do with it?” asked Torm.
Blinking innocently, Amdirlain gave an exaggerated shrug. “Just want an ace up my sleeve.”
Her playfulness elicited a wary look. “Should I be glad you only have one of those?”
“No, no, I cheat,” laughed Amdirlain. One of the True Song needles appeared in her hand, and Amdirlain twirled it through her fingers. “I can turn each of these into a small version, and I have other plans.”
When Torm headed off after their training, Amdirlain moved to the Spell casting chamber.
Walking around the circumference of the small containment circle carved into the stone, she listened to its smooth melody. Finally satisfied that nothing had caused its protections to decay, she placed Roher’s crystal within its boundary.
Though the complex song didn’t take her long to set into place, it kept erupting when she stopped singing. The once dull black stone within the circle had brightened with each failure, and as Amdirlain watched the power erupt again, the stone started to glow. At first, just the hint of a heat haze, but the rock blurred and gained a polished look. Now with the appearance of glassy obsidian, it sat gleaming translucent beneath a summery heat haze coming off the stone.
Attempting to retrieve the crystal from the circle caused Amdirlain’s fingertips to hiss and smoke the moment they crossed the inner threshold. True Song let Amdirlain create a new circle in the space of minutes, and she transferred the crystal to it with Far Hand.
Lingering energy around the crystal had the ever-present abyssal miasma hissing as it crossed the circle’s threshold.
As tempting as it was to continue experimenting on her own, Amdirlain bit the bullet and sent a message. “Roher, do you or Isa have some time? I need advice on the purification song that was in your crystal.”
Musical tones instead of Mana carried the reply, and Amdirlain realised why they’d never asked her to state her name. Her Spell’s signature resonated with her name, and Roher had caught it.
“Amdirlain, I wondered when you’d ask us for help. Isa told me you wanted to get past the fundamentals first. Open a Gate to where we last spoke; I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Creating a third circle to mask the energy of the grotto, Amdirlain hurriedly created a Gate oriented towards the crystal’s circle. The process had taken her long enough that Amdirlain expected to find him already present, but all that showed was the rough ledge and the cave below. The cracked walls had previously allowed her to see hints of the groves through their breaks, but now only the treetops showed their locations.
Knowing she hadn’t messed up, Amdirlain settled down to wait, and it was nearly a full hour before Roher appeared. His dishevelled state made it seem like he’d run to make the meeting, even though he teleported into place.
“Hope I didn’t drag you out of bed?”
“If I had been in bed, I would have asked you to wait. No, just one thing cascaded into another; quick questions always seem to take the longest. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting for long,” replied Roher, but he didn’t even pause for a response. “What can I help you with?”
“I can get the purification in place within the crystal, but it releases immediately,” admitted Amdirlain.
Roher gave an understanding nod. “I believe I know the issue, but would you perform it for me?”
Hoping she wouldn’t give herself away, Amdirlain ran through the performance again and got the same reaction. The appearance of the rough stone within the circle was cleaner after the energy eruption faded.
“Alright, you’ve copied the sound of the Song you heard upon release, which is quite understandable. It’s also how Isa duplicated spells, but I wanted to check, as your thought processes are very different. The key to remember is what you heard was the energy’s release, not its preparation,” commented Roher. “A cat might seem the same if it’s pouncing or ready to leap, but its energy differs.”
Taking out a fist-sized crystal, Roher sang in a smooth tenor. While his performance only differed in a score of notes, Amdirlain caught the changes’ intent. In particular, a paired section of chords towards the theme’s end kept the energy contained.
[True Song Composition [J] (15->16)]
“The section at the end where the two tunes mesh. That seems to be the key to restraining it, correct?”
Roher smiled at her. “Sing a part without Power in it and tell me its purpose; I’ll let you know if you’re correct.”
Amdirlain repeated one section carefully and considered the intent she’d felt. “That is the lock.”
“Indeed, waiting for the condition set by the interwoven notes to be fulfilled. But earlier differences in the Song make it possible to restrain it,” offered Roher. “Like gathering muscle tension.”
“The other part at the end restrains the power flow until the crystal touches the ground?”
Roher nodded. “Abyssal ground, in particular. I’ll sing some other conditions you can use for the experiments Isa says you’ve been conducting. You can use the same adjustments on Spell effects you want to duplicate. This construct within the Song differs from the Lingering Song Power, which keeps an effect going; this approach holds the Song ready.”
Placing the crystal on a stand within the circle, Amdirlain repeated Roher’s demonstration several times before she restrained the purification effect.
[True Song [M] (44->45)
True Song Composition [J] (16->17)]
“There now. Next, let’s try a simple time delay,” remarked Roher. Drawing another crystal sphere from his pouch, he rolled it through the Gate.
The lesson continued for a couple of hours with mixed failures and successes, but only her composition Skill experienced further progress. When Roher finally left Amdirlain to practise independently, she didn’t stop for a break. Using her singing to battle against the hideaway’s silence, Amdirlain continued for hours. One after another, she tested various modifications to both songs and spells.
Halfway through the setup of a time-delayed explosion, impacts rang through the chamber like a tuning fork, and Amdirlain had to focus on finishing the song. A blazing ball of plasma hung at the chamber’s midpoint, threatening to destabilise when the room seemed to rock again. The shockwave wasn’t physical, but the Plane’s miasma issued protests against heavenly intruders. When another bell-like tone rang out, Amdirlain recognised Erwarth’s music as a sub-component of the song.
“Erwarth, what is going on?” As soon as she released the Message, Amdirlain began to pace, her steps in time to Erwarth’s music pulsing within the celestial chimes ringing across the Plane.
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“Busy, stay away.” The sharp note of command in Erwarth’s reply made Amdirlain blink in surprise.
The scrying shaped with a spontaneous casting, and Erwarth stood within its focus in her Solar form, her golden armour and luminous wings burning against the abyssal miasma. She launched into the air as Amdirlain repeatedly pulled back the scrying focus. Twenty metres of separation rapidly turned into five hundred, and more celestials came into view each time.
Finally, she’d shifted focus far enough out to get the complete perspective. Five shining gates blazed on a hillside overlooking a vast briar-covered plain. Each was wider than a six-lane expressway, and through them streamed Celestial armies, driving wedges into demonic forces massed to meet them. While most of the Celestial troops displayed crests that Amdirlain didn’t recognise, there was one that she knew—Tyr’s symbol on banners, tabards, and armour caught Amdirlain’s gaze.
A warding barrier radiating from a distant compound explained their strange line. The energy within it prevented those without ward stones from teleporting or gating within its limits. Flares of Celestial powers and black burning flames ravaged the interior of its walls as demons continually hurried among its buildings.
Sírdhem led an aerial wedge of 57 familiar solars spearing towards the fortress. Before they’d covered even a quarter of the distance, a hundred balors snapped into existence ahead of them. Each was far larger than any Amdirlain had seen, their bat-shaped wings spreading out further than any of the solars’ wingspans. Four more groups surrounded the solars as a brigade of lantern archons let loose with blasts of light that struggled against the Abyss’ darkness.
Spells and weapons lashed out between the forces, sending feathers, motes of light, and sprays of black blood showering to the ground. Individual combatants took wounds that would have slain lesser foes. The solars within the wedge healed those on the fringes, but when demons took severe injuries, they’d teleport out only to be replaced. Their fellow balors simply ignored those that fell crashing atop the forces below.
Archons and angelic archers joined the effort to keep smaller combatants from entering the aerial melee. Words of power clawed at each other in an arcane stalemate between the lines. With the ground melee’s shifting battle lines, weaker demons and celestials fell in droves.
Massive Dretch locked weapons with sword and hound archons while more lantern archons sniped at succubi, vrocks, and other flying demons racing overhead. Through other gates, additional solars appeared and sent arrows arching beyond their lines. The impact of arrows released bursts of magic that slew the demons struck—yet still more appeared. Thousands of them teleported onto the battlefield, while others raced through already opened portals.
A titanic reptilian Solar, standing 50 metres tall, whose six white outstretched wings would each shadow a city block, ducked through the middle Gate. The long arc of its curved body echoed the three fallen Orhêthurin had met, and beneath it, smaller beings raced. As its gaze crossed her scrying focal point, the Spell shattered with an agonising spike. Recasting the Spell, Amdirlain set its effect out of the Celestial’s line of sight and found the scene had already changed.
Hundreds of new dark portals appeared along the battle’s perimeter and began to vomit forth streams of goat-headed humanoids protected by dark chain mail. What flesh the armour didn’t conceal showed a mangy grey hide over a gaunt but muscled frame. While their height at only three metres didn’t match the largest of the hound archons, their bardiche’s reach evened the battle in places. Amdirlain recognised them only from her Demonic Lore. The Schir were frontline troops common among abyssal forces, but these were larger than she’d expected.
Among the new portals, scores opened near the celestial gates, forcing reinforcements to head them off. The kilometres to the walled compound became packed with forces already numbering in the tens of thousands, eager to engage their eternal foes. Amdirlain took in the demons’ disciplined ranks, enforced by the whips and threats of greater demons. She barely began to weigh the risk of remote help when another arrival caught her eye.
A gigantic Balor dropped towards the compound’s edge and flattened the wall it had landed beside with its arrival alone. From the perspective of her scrying, Amdirlain witnessed it rush through demons packed within the compound, trampling them underfoot. Its cloven hooves left craters of broken ground and flesh in its wake, even as its speed blurred faster before ramming straight through a heavy stone wall of one of the compound’s largest buildings. The structural damage threatened its collapse, even before blackness exploded out of the hole the Balor had left.
Secondary eruptions gutted the building, and its fragmented walls collapsed, exposing a swirling pool of blackness previously concealed. The broken form of Caltzan’s spider-like body lay atop mounds of charred demons, but of the others, there was no sign. The concealed transformation site boiled and churned, causing liquid streams to run outwards.
What bodies the streams touched, they consumed.
“Torm?”
The Spell’s message went unanswered.
Amdirlain didn’t consciously dismiss the scrying, but with her focus off it for long minutes, it faded away.
“Amdirlain.”
Isa’s voice made Amdirlain flinch, and almost stagger as another metaphysical shockwave rang through the Plane.
“Torm?”
“Ebusuku sent me to ensure you don’t do something stupid and reckless. I find it frankly odd because such activity is my job,” remarked Isa nervously.
Clenching her hands, Amdirlain turned to face her. “He didn’t call me for help.”
“His choice was not to risk you. Don’t do something now to make it meaningless.”
“The next person who uses that argument on me, I will maim. Oh, it was someone’s choice to hurt Torm. Should I ignore that too? What about my choice to say that I am involved? What about my choice to decide the risks I will take?” screamed Amdirlain, and when her hands clenched into burning fists, Isa took a careful step back.
“Come with me to the training circle,” instructed Amdirlain. Teleporting herself there, she yanked a perfect ritual circle, complete with its runes, from the ground before Isa appeared.
“What are you doing?” whispered Isa.
“Cheating,” snapped Amdirlain, and she started to sing. Golden motes of light gathered along the circles'' perimeter, and when the light subsided, alchemical silver had formed perfectly in each.
Clearing her throat, Isa tried again when Amdirlain stopped singing. “No, what are you planning to do?”
“There is a big Solar that shattered my scrying Spell. I can’t afford a disruption, so I’d like you to cast a scrying spell or something to let me target a ritual,” declared Amdirlain. “Try to scry for Erwarth, N?r, or -”
“His boss said the Balor went into the transformation site with Torm,” interjected Isa.
“I didn’t think you’d be here if that weren’t the case. Now, I’m going to make a bunch of demons burn,” growled Amdirlain. “Either help or leave. Your choice, Isa.”
“Erwarth?” questioned Isa.
“Any of them, all the Lóm? solars joined the battle. Try to have the scrying focal point a few kilometres away so I can see the entire battlefield,” instructed Amdirlain.
“Aren’t you going to blow your careful Class levelling if you get too much experience?” asked Isa.
Amdirlain started to spit a reply before she stopped herself and nodded. “I’ll set it all to levelling the triumvirate for this ritual.”
It only took a moment to change the experience weighting, and Amdirlain let out a long slow breath as Isa began to sing.
A crystal clear image appeared outside the ritual circle, showing the entire battlefield. The aerial wedge was curving back towards the Gate, cutting down every Balor that faltered along the way. Carefully following the ritual progression a step at a time, Amdirlain focused on shaping the largest Firestorm she could and twinned it with her Celestial Affinity.
As Amdirlain worked, Isa counted on the circle’s protection and sent out a Blessing, hoping that Luck would find a way.
Moloch’s PoV - Culerzic
The sweetness of the wild berries used within the elven wine lingered on his tongue, and Moloch relaxed in his chair in half-lidded pleasure. The wine and the Human form he’d adopted were just two vices he was presently indulging in. Stretching out a silk-covered arm, he lifted the crystal goblet to let the light play through the vintage and paint his vision in a scarlet hue.
He’d perfectly matched the selection to the new Succubus’ colouration. Her screams and moans entwined with the wet sounds of Bliss’ ministrations. Moloch took another slow sip and let his gaze linger on all the tendrils and ribbons that extended from Bliss’s fluid-streaked form. Each seemed a living entity in its own right, fighting the others around it for the chance to explore its new toy.
The nameless Succubus was a vivid splash of colour, rare among the normally ivory-skinned succubi from the Cliffs of Lust. Her red stood out so well next to Bliss’ ivory that watching their sensual undulations was a pleasant distraction from the distant explosions of power. The windowless marble hall echoed with the succubi’s cries of pleasure. Relaxing in a padded armchair, Moloch settled back to enjoy the show.
Well away from the king-sized bed, a Portal ripped into existence and framed a gargantuan Balor. The Demon was some 30 metres tall and had a wingspan nearly triple that in size. From his long black horns, with their downward arcs to protect his neck and shoulders, the massive being’s form expressed rage and hate. Flames burned in the eye sockets of his brutal face, with a pig-like snout and a razor-filled maw that could elongate to swallow a heavily armoured Ogre whole.
A thick red hide clung to the bulky muscles that covered his body from the jaw-line down to black cloven hooves. Segmented abyssal steel plates added selective protection to vital locations, but his natural defence was normally all he needed. Freshly gouged marks in the armour prompted Moloch to set aside his drink and consider him more closely.
A loosely coiled flame whip was in the Balor’s dominant hand, and the other dragged a length of organic sinew that ended in a charred burn. Wrist thick, its serpentine motions didn’t match any gesture from the Balor, and it continued contouring around the cocooned forms behind him. Both shapes were larger than Moloch’s current body, and through gaps in the rope, shards of broken wings poked out.
The forms dragged across muddy ground as the Balor delicately stepped across the threshold onto the polished white and caramel marble. He took each step with extreme care, not allowing his weight to disturb either Moloch’s glass or the contents of his lord''s extensive wine collection.
“Lord Moloch.”
The bass drum of the Balor’s voice rumbled in the chamber, and he prostrated himself to get beneath Moloch’s seated height.
“It''s only been a few hours, and you’ve certainly returned faster than expected. Congratulations on surviving the Ascension to Demon Lord. You may rise, Zutag,” instructed Moloch. “Did you only take two through?”
“A group of solars arrived and started penetrating the trap’s perimeter faster than expected. I grabbed what advantage I could. I broke one potential in the rush to capture them, but the others I swept into the site with me,” explained Zutag as he straightened.
“What happened to the third?”
Zutag pointed to the scorched end of the ligament. “The enchantment frayed exiting on Ijmti. I was fortunate not to lose these as well.”
The Plane’s name had Moloch''s mouth twisted in distaste, and Zutag eyed him warily. Nodding thoughtfully, Moloch sat fully upright. “Ijmti. A former celestial has gained it as a Home Plane; now that’s quite interesting. What about the Wizard’s pet?”
“She’s still collared and believes that she’s gathering information. He ordered her to ignore anything but the sound of his voice before the others arrived at the trap,” explained Zutag.
“Good. Order someone to take possession of her; there will probably be rescue attempts after the celestials retreat,” declared Moloch. “What about the battle’s expenditure?”
A grimace twisted the edge of Zutag’s maw. “Expensive. Above what you’d hoped but well under the worst-case budget. We’ve not yet had to draw on any of the locals. We’ve already bloodied the Celestial forces significantly. The spilled blood and corpses will fetch a high price.”
“What caused our losses to get that high so quickly?” asked Moloch and motioned towards the distant battlefield.
“All four deities of those trapped sent contingents, then additional forces arrived from a deity whose crest we still don’t know. They almost broke through with 57 Solars arriving in one hit, along with brigades of lantern archons able to rip up the vrocks providing support,” explained Zutag. “Their arrival provoked the initial contingents to commit their own solars to the fray. Because of those initial solars, we’ve now got hundreds of balors in a Planar Locked state.”
“Of course, can’t let another deity show you up as being more dedicated to the light,” sneered Moloch. “Tell the forces to break off and let the celestials exit with whatever dignity they have left. Have the commanders know I’m pleased, and we’ll gather to learn what tactics and weapons worked well and what needs to be scrapped. Set the balors that fell to extra weapon drills; obviously, they’ve begun counting on raw power too much. Which one dragged you to Ijmti?”
“The third, he was far stronger than that one,” Zutag muttered, pointing at the largest captive entirely encased in the sinewy rope. “The fraying might have been his doing rather than any flaw in the enchantment.”
Picking up his glass, Moloch took another sip, his gaze weighing on the bound prisoners’ struggles to free themselves. While the smaller of the two could barely shift position in the confines, the larger figure caused the bonds to stretch noticeably.
“Stop struggling, and I’ll release you,” declared Moloch. “Try my patience, and I’ll hang you somewhere by the remains of your spine for thousands of years.”
As he approached, the pair stopped struggling under the weight of his presence. Quickly shifting the ensnarement from the larger of the pair, Moloch smiled in appreciation at her elven beauty, high cheekbones, and pointed chin. Her pale teal skin contrasted with solid black eyes containing a shattered ruby starburst instead of irises.
As he examined her, Moloch caught her mental surprise at his almost Human-like features.
Analysis quickly provided her details, and Moloch reconsidered her appearance. “This one’s a Fallen, not a Demon; now that’s quite interesting. Let''s call you Pena, little Fallen. What would it cost me to entice you to become my dark, punishing angel?”
Moloch’s will impressed the new name, and he took in the former Angel’s presence within his Domain. Broken by the transformation site, its power had twisted Pena’s memory of every freely offered sacrifice and dutiful obedience into unnecessary suffering and toil. Then the Ascension’s inferno had scoured the Angel’s essence down to its bedrock and smothered her past beliefs in torment and rage.
Before the Fallen could reply, a pulse of Celestial power rang through the Palace. Not bothering to look at Zutag for answers, Moloch simply cast Scry. The distant battlefield appeared in his mind, and he snarled at the torrents of golden celestial flames that purified the Abyss’ miasma. The deluge of liquid fire broke the stalemate between a massive reptilian Solar and a pair of only slightly smaller balors.
The flames quickly covered kilometres of terrain in searing death for demons, but their nature left the celestials untouched. Demonic regiments that didn’t die to the blessed inferno broke and ran, trampling down kin that moved too slowly, and the celestials struck.
Their spilled blood evaporated without contaminating the greening ground.
“Why should I work for you?” rasped Pena, her voice grating like a pig-iron file against basalt.
Holding back his rage at the scene he’d scried, Moloch raised a finger, beckoning her politely to wait. “Zutag, go find out how your forces gave them enough time and peace to set up and use a ritual circle on this plane.”
Zutag dropped the rope''s end and vanished away.
Flexing her broken wings within the confines of the bonds, Pena fixed Moloch with a sceptical expression. “It seems you have a problem. Did your costs get a little higher now?”
With an easy sale snatched away, Moloch merely nodded. “Not every plan goes one’s way, but that cost isn’t yours to bear.”
Pena tapped her chin against the loop around her neck. “This position doesn’t feel like we’re negotiating for anything but a collar.”
Willing the enchantment to release her alone, Moloch offered her a hand to rise. “After all the trouble we took to enlighten you, I needed to make sure you’d hear what I had to say.”
“You certainly changed your tune,” Pena said. Not moving to take his hand, she smoothly stood and forced her wings to straighten with a crack of bone and ligaments.
“Getting some to listen can take dramatic gestures,” Moloch stated, unfazed by her towering over his Human form. He waved a suntanned hand toward a couch, giving her a pearly smile. “Join me and talk. I see no current need for promises of violence.”
Pena’s gaze flickered only momentarily to the other figure, still entrapped in the bonds. “And him?”
“He can wait. We’re talking about you right now. Is that former Movanic Deva more important than your future possibilities? Millennia toiling as an Astra Deva just got you more work and pain. Why suffer for mortals when you’re far more important?” asked Moloch, waving again towards the assorted chairs around the bed. “Come sit and enjoy the show. We can talk about the possibilities available to you.”
With that, he returned to his seat and reclaimed his wine. “Before we start, tell me about the Alu-Demon that the one called Tor’m Altha had with him. Is she another fake Celestial as well?”
“She’s someone trapped by a curse,” replied Pena before she lay on her side atop a lounge nearby.
“A curse, you say? Did you get that from her mind?” asked Moloch with sharp interest.
“I never met her,” admitted Pena. “That was the information given to me before I joined the cell''s operations.”
Moloch took a sip to wet his lips and offered a smile. “Then let’s talk about your priorities.”
His tone had set Pena on edge, but she kept her voice steady. “What’s that?”
“You, of course,” replied Moloch. “One’s priorities should always be on oneself. So let us determine the price for your cooperation with my priorities.”