Amdirlain’s PoV - Outlands - Xaos
Despite having told Rasha to contact her upon their return, Amdirlain beat them back to the suite. The front door clicked shut while Amdirlain was soaking in the bath, singing old melodies that the mauling of a song had bubbled up.
“It seems there is no need to let you know we’ve returned,” observed Rasha as he let the front door close.
Amdirlain had noticed their approach through the town, but she hadn''t bothered to tone down her singing until Rasha’s pronouncement. “Welcome back.”
Nomein burst through the door and grinned upon seeing the steaming bath. “Plenty of room for all of us.”
“Know you didn’t even knock,” scolded Gemiya.
“We all bathed together at the monastery,” objected Nomein.
“Amdirlain didn’t join us in the baths,” rebutted Lezekus.
Nomein shot a look at Amdirlain. “Not once?”
“No, I didn’t think it appropriate when you were younger, and -”
“Not appropriate?”
“Young girls I knew got fixated on comparing themselves to adult females, and it generally wasn’t healthy,” explained Amdirlain. “Then I just continued on my habit of magical cleaning when you were adults.”
“Well, that’s not an issue now, or am I intruding?” asked Nomein
“Pick a spot to soak, but clean off the dust first,” replied Amdirlain, though she noted they weren’t particularly dust-coated. “I’m planning to soak and think for a bit.”
“Who doesn’t do that?” asked Lezekus, “Know if you’d joined us, you would have known it''s proper to wash outside the bath.”
“There you go. I didn’t pick up enough about Githzérai culture,” replied Amdirlain. “In my homeland, a bath was for cleaning, not relaxing.”
“Know that it seems strange to get into water that you’ll make dirty and expect to get clean,” commented Gemiya, and she released a Spell that washed the little dust coating them away. “Know we’d cleaned before leaving Cemna, but you are correct; we walked by fields they’ve begun to plough.”
“Interesting, they only harvested a few days ago; I wonder how quickly they cycle crops,” mused Amdirlain.
“Are you going into farming?” asked Lezekus.
“No, that isn’t on my to-do list,” started Amdirlain before she stopped herself with a snort. “Though now you mention it, I should likely pick up some farming basics at least; some groups might need advice.”
As she replied, the four shucked their clothing and, despite the magic clean, rinsed themselves off before joining her in the bath.
“Did everything go alright with your errands?” asked Gemiya. “Know that Rasha only told us some things had come up you needed to handle them.”
“A few things at least were resolved, but not as I had hoped. I also did a bit of exploration on a young world with some celestials,” replied Amdirlain.
“Even though you are marked as a Fallen, celestials will still work with you?” asked Lezekus, her tone lifting in pleased surprise.
Amdirlain smiled. “Greater powers can see through my curse. I had some allies before Apollo’s Priest pulled his stunt, among those was Moradin, and I was working with his celestials. How did your initial explorations go?”
“Know that we only cleared a few arcs along the outer edge of the city; there was far more walking involved than fighting,” answered Sarith. “Know we took the time to clear each building thoroughly, though many rushed to attack us when the fighting started. Isn’t it annoying how the undead have no minds to read?”
“Perhaps that is just as well,” replied Amdirlain. “Their behaviour is one of ravaging hunger, and their song is filled with hate and rage. I’m glad you’re all unharmed.”
“The honourable healer monitored all of us and ensured we remained cohesive,” Nomein commented, waving a bubble-covered hand at Sarith.
“Know that it was hardly necessary, save for Nomein wishing to push faster,” critiqued Sarith.
Nomein shrugged, and her telekinesis formed white foam skeletons. “I’ll admit I’ve been working alone, but your pace was timid. Rasha wasn’t plodding because we needed to clear buildings slower; he told us the pace was ours to set.”
At Nomein’s assessment, Gemiya shook her head. “Know that the four of us haven’t worked together as a single team; it''s best to set a slower pace while we work on coordination.”
“Aged skeletons come apart quickly with the right applications of Telekinesis,” countered Nomein.
“Know that it was not the skeletons I was concerned about, but establishing safe habits for the more dangerous interior,” argued Gemiya.
“We’re not going to get a Tier 7 Achievement by playing it safe,” countered Nomein.
“Know that playing it continually safe is not my point, rather the establishment of a rapport in our coordination so that we don’t require a Gestalt to act as one,” asserted Gemiya. “Know we should relax for now; best to debate our points after the energy of the battle has settled from our flesh.”
“How are you ladies for clothing?” asked Amdirlain. “There is a seamstress here in Xoas in case you want to replace anything or have something different.”
“Know we can mend the clothing magically,” Lezekus observed.
“Hush you, don’t you get that she wants to take us clothes shopping?” asked Nomein.
“Know that it could have been she was offering us a choice,” interjected Sarith; closing her eyes, she relaxed further against the bath’s edge.
Gemiya smiled at her twin and gave her a subtle mental nudge. “Know we’d better take her up on it then; look what happened to you.”
Sarith’s snort of laughter wasn’t the reaction that Amdirlain expected.
“Gifts of clothes are very forward of you,” Nomein remarked, giving Amdirlain a coy smile.
Amdirlain rolled her eyes. “I didn’t say I’d pay for them, just that I know where a seamstress is in Xaos.”
“Know you’ve cruelly crushed my dream,” gasped Nomein.
“You’re a big girl; I’m sure you’ll get over it,” replied Amdirlain, and she caught the subtle tics of amusement from the others that grew with Nomein’s protests.
* * * * *
Spaced along the garden path was a series of four spires that Amdirlin had produced. She had embedded melodies within the spires so that, when exposed to vacuum, they’d spread out in geosynchronous orbits above the nearest planet and continually scan it. The effect within them drove through the planet''s core to form overlapping zones that between them covered the planet from pole to pole. Shielded cases large enough to protect thousands of memory crystals wrapped around their midsections, providing enough capacity to record years of information about the dead planet that was her first target. Each spire would transfer filled crystals to a separate bolt-hole or the spire itself in the event of orbital decay. If the orbits didn’t fail, Amdirlain had further plans for the spires, but she had to ensure her surveying system was working first.
Opening a Gate above one of Sage’s dead worlds, Amdirlain took a moment to watch the planet’s cloud formations from an orbital position. Mentally crossing her fingers, she pushed the first spire. Its tumble stopped when it was entirely through the Gate, and it re-orientated even as it shot away. Watching the world spin beneath her, Amdirlain quickly lost connection to the spire’s song in its higher orbit. The other spires followed in an orderly procession, the last going out the Gate just in time for the first to signal her that its orbit was established.
Closing the Gate, she relaxed on a nearby bench to enjoy the sun; tapping her foot, she resumed studying Votari’s songs.
Like the world’s song, Amdirlain had merely listened to the debate of points between the ladies. Given what they knew of her background, she’d been careful not to offer support in any direction. They needed to come to their own choices about the best way forward as a group.
Lezekus found Amdirlain there hours later, still humming away, and settled on the bench across from her.
“Did you have a pleasant rest, Lezekus?” asked Amdirlain.
“Know I did, thank you,” replied Lezekus. “How did you know it was me without opening your eyes or a mental touch?”
“A Power called Resonance lets me hear the songs of forms and energies. People are distinctive, but I can distinguish even between crafted objects. I realised last night that I’d never asked if any of you had experience with the undead,” noted Amdirlain, and she sat up to face Lezekus.
“Know that between us, only Nomein had any experience with them. Know that she had Rasha brief us sufficiently that they weren’t a surprise,” remarked Lezekus.
“Not as bad to deal with as Limbo’s locals?” queried Amdirlain.
“Know that I didn’t think you found Githzérai that unpleasant,” quipped Lezekus.
“I was talking about your frog-faced neighbours and Chaos elementals,” laughed Amdirlain.
Lezekus flicked her fingers towards the bedrooms. “Not Nomein’s tendency to talk while she eats?”
“I seem to recall that wasn’t only Nomein,” said Amdirlain.
“Know I’m told that memory in the elders of some species can be an issue,” Lezekus dryly remarked.
* * * * *
Trill’s shop was easy to find, even with the minimal directions she’d provided. At the end of the lane, a cluster of tunnels—knee height on Amdirlain—disappeared into the hill. Just before them was a building set partly into the hillside, its wide window showing wooden mannequin representations of a half dozen species draped with colourful outfits. Through the windows were dozens of the Mousekin until Nomein headed for the front door. They vanished into the back and under cabinets, leaving Trill to mind the front.
Trill squeaked in surprise and looked between the four Githzérai, who arrayed themselves between the mannequins and the counter she was perched on. The drab attire of three of them started her whiskers to droop, but they twitched higher when her gaze returned to Nomein''s brighter apparel. The shop felt like something from the Victorian era, with dresses in all shapes and colours, from tiny doll-like ones too small even for Trill, to one that would fit an Ogre.
“Good day, Am. I had heard an exotic Elf was hosting a Githzérai platoon at the Blazing Portal,” chittered Trill, and she clasped her paws to steady her shaking hands. “I hadn’t expected them to be your friends. Will others come shopping here?”
“There are only four staying with me, so the number is exaggerated,” corrected Amdirlain, and she resisted the urge to groan at Trill’s wording.
“Friends from a species with a fearsome reputation,” said Trill, her wide-eyed gaze not leaving the monks.
“Do we truly have such a reputation?” asked Lezekus.
Amdirlain nodded. “You’re not exactly open to visitors, and I was warned off even trying to make contact with the monastery.”
“Know that in Limbo, appearances are often deceptive, and our enemies are many,” said Lezekus. “Know we will seek to act only in self-defence within Xaos.”
Stolen story; please report.
“That might not be so easy; the gossip has it that many among the garrison’s training hall were boasting they could defeat you. The shopkeepers are worried about violence occurring in the street,” said Trill.
“Yet, no one has even attempted to accost us,” said Nomein, and she glanced at the others.
Trill’s nails tapped against each other, and her gaze fixed on Amdirlain. “They are likely watching her tail swish when Am walks with you. The chatter has many males announcing their interest, regardless of their species; you might need to watch out for some wives.”
Nomein snickered and bumped against Amdirlain.
“Hush Nomein, I’ve not always been with you. They might be braggarts and all talk since the ladies returned the other night without me present,” remarked Amdirlain.
“Know that I believe that might be because of Ras’ killing intent,” Gemiya said. “Know that while I detected some suspicion and hostility, he projected a protective violence that quashed it.”
“Where is this training hall?” asked Nomein, with a broad smile that showed far too many teeth.
Trill swallowed and started to speak, but Amdirlain interrupted.
“We came here so you could get measured for some clothing,” said Amdirlain.
“Fine, clothing first, and then playtime afterwards,” huffed Nomein.
“What did you need?” asked Trill.
Lezekus gave Trill the barely noticeable smile that was standard among Githzérai. “Know that we’re after sleeping apparel and some clothing to relax in; we’ve only combat garb with us.”
Waving towards a scaffolding obscured by a curtain behind the shop’s counter, Trill looked between them. “I’ll need to measure each of you.”
Nomein moved before the others. “Strip down to undergarments, I gather?”
“Unless you would prefer ill-fitting garments,” said Trill.
As the curtain was drawn, Gemiya nodded. “Know I’ll go to the training hall after this; it''s best to practice against many foes.”
“Know you won’t be going alone,” replied Lezekus.
Sarith looked at Amdirlain. “Do you think their opponents will mind me practising healing techniques on them afterwards?”
“I believe that might depend on how you offer it,” replied Amdirlain.
Trill worked even faster than she talked.
After each of them stood in the scaffolding crescent, she raced over it to take all the required measurements. The selection of cloth was a prolonged process, with Trill trying to entice them into softer, more colourful fabrics. She had initially shown Nomein drab browns and greys, only for Nomein to enquire after silky blues and bright hues.
Her tastes seemed to spur Trill to challenge the stubbornness of the others against adopting a new look. Though they didn’t follow her suggestions, their steady calm reassured Trill that they weren’t the brutal executioners some tales made them out to be. That she’d talked Lezekus and Sarith into some colourful accessories had the tiny seamstress hopping excitedly across a bench to fetch down the ribbons they''d picked. That the pair only gave in due to Nomein’s mental badgering added to Trill’s insistence. Amdirlain had gone for a pale green linen dress cut above the knees, which had turbocharged Trill’s excitement and had her talking about lace embroidery and ribbon straps.
The sight of a palm-sized, old gold coin that the group set down for their outfits had Trill scrambling for enough change in silver. Nomein had laughed and told her to keep the change, a generosity that had some of Trill’s assistants finally peek out from their hiding places.
“Shall we examine this training hall now or after lunch?” asked Lezekus. “Know I hadn’t expected our selection of attire to take so long.”
“That’s only because you three wanted to argue with Trill’s good taste; you should have been bolder like Am or submitted to Trill’s suggestions,” said Nomein, tossing Amdirlain a questioning look.
Amdirlain shrugged. “I’ve worn the same thing for years now, it doesn’t hurt to change things up occasionally; the dress design I picked from Trill’s book is similar to ones I used to wear in summer in my youth." She looked over at Lezekus and replied, "Trill said it''s mainly the garrison that uses the training hall. Unless you’re hungry, we might as well stop in and see what it''s like. From what I’ve observed of the town so far, there are some places near it to eat, not just where Trill recommended.”
“Know that a tavern with large bowls of good food might be a subjective recommendation given its source; she’s so tiny,” noted Sarith. “Know you should perhaps project less calm, Am, then we can see if those wishing to deal with us will come forth.”
“Going to try and cure them, Sarith?” asked Nomein.
“Know that aversion therapy might help them,” replied Sarith.
Despite Sarith’s suggestion, Amdirlain maintained the projection strength of the calm she’d tested with the four of them. Leading the way up the hill, she received more attention than she had the first day, but no one interrupted them before they arrived at the orange stone building.
The training hall’s front was a regular trapezoid, with the walls slanting inwards towards a roof far smaller than the base; the whole thing looked ready to collapse if any force pushed out the walls’ base.
The thought of tonnes of stone roofing and walls dropping on you might cool hotter heads, who would otherwise be tempted to push beyond the bounds of mere training—if they bothered to stop and think. The entry was a shimmering green energy barrier designed to contain explosive force rather than prevent anything physical from entering or leaving.
The ease with which they could detect the public thoughts of a score of minds within made it clear the building’s wards included no psionic restraints. Among other individual themes was a source of wild music that roused Amdirlain’s curiosity
“Are you going to prove you’re not left-handed to someone?” asked Lezekus.
Amdirlain restrained a snort of laughter. “Did Master ?daka tell on me?”
“Know we shared some stories during the initial years after you left,” explained Lezekus. “Know Master ?daka has been off ‘adventuring’ for a few years now, though I believe she has the full support of her father in striving for a Tier 7.”
“You folks can talk later; let’s introduce ourselves,” prompted Nomein, and she strode past them through the barrier.
Stepping through, they found the interior wasn’t as delicately balanced as it looked outside. The corridor behind it ran some six metres through the middle of a massive stone block. The wards within the structure ran through the stone, reinforcing it against physical blows and explosive spells, but Amdirlain didn’t detect anything to prevent dimensional travel in either direction.
The corridor opened into an oval chamber some thirty metres long and fourteen across. A strong railing was placed two metres in from the outer walls, delimiting an area occupied by clashing figures. This drew another snort from Amdirlain—clashing combatants in an oval arena was just like roller derby. Globes of light hovered in an irregular pattern about the chamber but ensured it was fully illuminated.
As they neared the end of the corridor, a brown-furred Rat-kin wearing the hardened leather armour common to the keep’s guards looked their way. His nostrils flared, and his whiskers twitched as he reached for a metal-studded club leaning against the railing next to him.
“Is the training hall open to others or just the guard?” Nomein asked.
“Anyone able to follow the rules,” the guard replied.
Sarith caught sight of a few individuals limping along the chamber’s outer pathway. “Do you not have a healer available to tend to injuries? Shall I see to the wounded?”
When Amdirlain caught up to them, she used Analysis to catch his name since introductions weren''t forthcoming.
[Name: Enrig
Species: Rat-kin
Class: Fighter / Ranger
Level: 34 / 34
Health: 1,102
Defence: 75
Melee Attack Power: 90
Combat Skills: Polearm [ Ad ] (12), Longbow [M] (2) - Various blessings
Note: A native to the Outlands, Enrig is a worshiper of the nature God Lakith.]
“If they’ve broken something, they should have asked for help, and we’d fetch someone,” stated Enrig. “What are you all doing here?”
“Looking for a space where we can practise occasionally,” replied Nomein. “Hence my question.”
“I’d happily teach or help someone in need of a sparing partner,” added Amdirlain.
Enrig looked them over. “I can see problems happening no matter what answer I give you.”
“What are the training hall’s rules then?” asked Nomein.
“No sharp weapons, pull your strikes, confirm and avoid your partner''s vulnerable spots. You can hit most insectoids in the throat and not cause problems with their breathing, but it could kill most soft-skinned species,” explained Enrig.
As Enrig went to say something more, Sarith motioned to one figure still limping along. “Know he’s not seriously injured but suffering from muscle damage that will take weeks to heal fully. Is it going to offend if I offer them help? Know that I can feel his pain from here.”
Enrig turned to Sarith, and his lips twisted as he contemplated her. “What God do you follow for healing?”
“Know that I’m not a Priest; I’ve taken a healer’s oath and can help his body’s natural recovery,” explained Sarith.
At Enrig’s nod, Sarith headed along the outer path.
“We’ll spar with each other unless someone asks, and then we’ll take it easy on them,” offered Nomein. “Do you mind if we get practice in now?”
“None of you has weapons,” noted Enrig.
“We are weapons,” laughed Nomein.
“I’ve heard that of your kind,” admitted Enrig. “I doubt any will want to take you up on that offer. Though I’m sure plenty will offer to spar with your elven friend, I doubt any guards need a dance teacher. Perhaps horizontal dancing and exchanging blows in that arena would be more your speed.”
Mental howls of laughter came from the ladies, and Amdirlain nodded in mock understanding. “Maybe someone can teach me how to throw a punch properly. I sometimes end up flailing about; its so embarrassing.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged,” Enrig responded.
“I hope there is someone that can be gentle and teach me the proper execution,” purred Amdirlain.
[Femme Fatale [S] (10->11)]
Nomein gave the game away with a snicker, and Enrig’s lips curled briefly.
“Since you think you are tough,” grunted Enrig, and he turned towards the arena. “Captain, do you have time to spar with someone?”
A broad-shouldered and armoured figure in gleaming bronze who had been supervising a clash between two pairs of Rat-kin turned at the call. Though a plumed helm wholly concealed his face, the general shape of his body gave the impression of an Elf. It was just another layer of deception, as he was the source of the wild music Amdirlain had heard. True Sight showed Amdirlain that his lean elven body was a mask for a Giant’s compressed form and Fey blood.
[Name: Bedevere
Species: Fomorian Fey
Class: Farstrider / Spellblade
Level: 92 / 62 / 54
Health: 17,946
Defence: 616
Magic: 387
Mana: 33,586
Melee Attack Power: 592
Combat Skills: Sword [GM] (12), Spear [GM] (129) - Assorted affinities, various blessings, and spell lists.
Details: One of four watch captains that report to the keep’s commander, Bedevere has been assigned here for the last six hundred years. ]
Bedevere looked over the four still standing near Enrig and strode towards them. “Enrig, who are you requesting sparring for?”
“This dancer,” replied Enrig, and he gestured towards Amdirlain.
“Have you any weapons to use?” asked Bedevere.
“Bare hands?” replied Amdirlain.
At her reply, Bedevere''s gaze flicked to the trio still standing with Amdirlain and paused. “You’re here with the Githzérai. Do you know their fighting style?”
“I’ve my own,” admitted Amdirlain.
“I heard part of your discussion with Enrig. Let’s see you spar with him first; I’m sure it will be educational for someone,” said Bedevere.
“Captain-” started Enrig.
Bedevere reached across the railing and grabbed Enrig’s muzzle, clamping it shut. “You’re allowed to dig a hole, Enrig, but don’t expect me to step in it for you. I can feel the calm energy coming off her. Has she calmed you so much that you’re being cocky? Nod if you think you can take her on in a spar.”
Enrig’s whiskers tweaked in frustration, and with the captain still holding his muzzle shut, he nodded.
Bedevere gave a disappointed sigh, and Enrig tried to squeal in protest.
“Hush, Enrig,” continued Bedevere, his hand still clamped on Enrig''s muzzle, he looked at Amdirlain. “That’s if you even want to spar with him. Despite your offer to spar or train others, I won’t hold you to it after an idiot has offended you.”
“I’m happy to educate him if you believe he’s in need,” replied Amdirlain.
“He is certainly in need. Crotch, throat, and base of the tail are all sensitive with his species, plus the head when they’ve got half a brain,” advised Bedevere, and he let Enrig go and turned his attention back to him. “Now, Enrig. Do two things, take a deep breath, and listen for heartbeats. Do you smell another Elf beside Callen? How many heartbeats do you hear near you?”
“Oh,” squeaked Enrig after he did as instructed.
“Since she didn’t immediately gut you for implying she’s a whore, I don’t think you’re in grave danger, but get better at recognising outsiders, Enrig. You stuck your foot in your mouth, so I’ll let her kick your arse,” said Bedevere, and he gave Enrig a sad headshake. “I’m Captain Bedevere. Might I know your names?”
“Am,” replied Amdirlain, and she got permission through their mental link before continuing with the introductions, gesturing to each in turn. “Nomein, Gemiya, Lezekus, and Sarith. Sarith’s a healer; the rest of us have various capabilities. Now, shall we spar, Enrig?”
Without gathering herself, Amdirlain leapt to the other side of the barrier.
“Enrig, remember to roll when you get knocked down,” Bedevere helpfully offered.
Snatching up his weapon, Enrig ducked under the railing and kept a wary eye on Amdirlain.
Some of those nearby stopped sparring to watch on as Enrig moved into position to face Amdirlain. Smoothly bowing, Amdirlain moved into a relaxed stance, one foot forward to angle her body slightly towards Enrig. He immediately stabbed the pole’s spiked end straight towards her face. Whirling along the weapon’s length, Amdirlain stopped with one hand on his shoulder, the other on his elbow; she gave him a heartbeat to register how much trouble he was in and pushed.
As he skidded a few metres along the stone, Far Hand delivered the weapon into his grasp.
“I guess getting pushed over like a Centaur shoved you aside counts as getting knocked down,” muttered Bedevere, and he looked Enrig over critically. “You didn’t even try to roll with that, Corporal. Now stand up. Would you help him learn to roll properly, Am?”
“Happy to help. He’s tough enough to take it, and I can heal him if anything breaks,” remarked Amdirlain, drawing a dry laugh from Bedevere.
“I heard there is a Catfolk around as well, keeping the five of you company,” commented Bedevere.
“He’s back at the suite reading,’ replied Nomein. “Captain, would you care to spar with me while Am plays teacher?”
“It would be an honour,” replied Bedevere. “I’ve heard about Githzérai monks but never fought one of you.”
“Now you have four of us around to give you trouble,” laughed Nomein.
Bedevere frowned and nodded towards Sarith. “I thought Sarith was a healer.”
“Know that while my sister is under a healer’s oath, if you attack her or her patients, she’s free to return the favour,” explained Gemiya.
The quick stop turned into three hours of sparring and training before they left to find food. As Amdirlain headed for the door, Enrig and the others Bedevere had her teaching how to roll gave her hesitant bows.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Amdirlain said, and she nodded politely in return.
“I’ll ensure they’re all here then, Am,” replied Bedevere. “I believe it was most educational. Perhaps you’ll spar with me tomorrow; Nomein indicated you’re the more experienced combatant.”
“Very well.”