Amdirlain’s PoV - Material Plane - Qil Tris - Year 4370 (Local calendar)


    Amdirlain emerged after completing her energy calculation for an iron planetary core the next day. The result was problematic, and the years she told Kadaklan was more likely decades at this point for the planetary core alone.


    A couple of decades is still years. The hollow earth option in a demi-plane will ?be an earlier stage. One the size of Africa next?


    The ideas were still going around in her mind when she padded out towards the kitchen, passing Jan’era as she went.


    “Interesting apparel,” noted Jan’era from a couch near the kitchen door. The studio boss’s pink ear ticked in amusement.


    Amdirlain glanced down at her shorts and crop top. “Kadaklan has already left for the lab, and you’ve got your own set of everything. What brings you over so early?”


    “Lady Cla’nes offered to host a party, and while we’ve made some initial plans, we’ve reached the point in planning where we need to know if it would be a farewell or not,” replied Jan’era. “If you’re not yet decided, we’ll need to shift the date around.”


    “Ahh, you’ve come to talk me into the staying around option,” guessed Amdirlain, and she headed into the kitchen. “Better come through so I don’t have to yell.”


    Sarah grumbled from the kitchen. “You’ve not got clothes on again?”


    “I’m wearing shorts and a top; I’m not letting you troll me today,” retorted Amdirlain. “Why didn’t you offer Jan’era a drink?”


    “She’s a big girl and been over often enough to know where they are,” rebuffed Sarah.


    Jan’era rose to follow Amdirlain into the kitchen. “You’re putting so little pressure on my Mental Clarity now; you used to be too enticing fully dressed.”


    “My arse is no longer cute enough?” questioned Amdirlain.


    “I never understood Jul’iane telling me you were deadly with that bare hand style you taught her. It’s believable now that you’re moving like a huntress instead of a companion,” advised Jan’era.


    “Cool, I’ll be able to hide in plain sight then,” cheered Amdirlain. “No one will believe I’m me.”


    “I wouldn’t be so quick at taking that approach. The party isn’t the only thing I need to talk to you about,” cautioned Jan’era. “I think we should keep your security increased.”


    Amdirlain wrinkled her nose. “Doomsayers?”


    “They are an issue, and the Matriarch is back to making noises about wanting you as an example for her propaganda machine,” advised Jan’era.


    “I’ve got her covered,” insisted Sarah. Enchanted discs rose until they cleared the tops of the kitchen cabinets, each with an energy projector rigged beneath it.


    Amdirlain rolled her eyes at the overt display, having heard Sarah release them from her Inventory. “The Matriarch just likes to tell people how to live their lives.”


    Jan’era sighed. “Please be careful. They’re not joking this time; her morality enforcers have declared you a moral enemy.”


    “I guess I’ve fallen far,” quipped Amdirlain.


    “Honestly, I didn’t expect them to react to your last release set this way,” admitted Jan’era.


    Amdirlain glumly nodded. “I told you we should have tried for even more innuendo than the previous releases. Maybe she took us toning it back as a sign of me weakening.”


    “Maybe,” Jan’era begrudgingly admitted.


    “I told you not to give the dictator a cookie. Her thought goon squad will want to parade you around as their re-education star,” chided Sarah.


    Taking a leathery fruit from the bowl, Amdirlain sliced open its husk. As its sweet interior filled the air with a pleasant aroma, she diced its flesh and offered Jan’era a piece.


    “You’re back to eating dessert for breakfast,” critiqued Jan’era.


    Amdirlain grinned and held the fruit closer. “Don’t you want some of my sweetness?”


    “I think all those years of Femme Fatale have taken a toll,” rebuffed Jan’era before she plucked a cube up.


    Sarah went to take a cube for herself and got a tail swat across her arm. “What was that for?”


    “Mine,” rebuffed Amdirlain, and she slid away from Sarah with the remains of both fruit halves. “The Matriarch sure picked the wrong time to make more noise. Didn’t she get the message the tour was over?”


    I won’t do anything about the doomsayers, but I’m getting annoyed by the Matriarch.


    Jan’era sat at the kitchen table. “It was your most successful tour; it makes you a bigger prize.”


    Juggling the fruit, Amdirlain got a plate from the cupboard and joined her at the table. “Maybe someone heard I was retiring? If she makes noise about needing me re-educated and I don’t show up again, she’s won.”


    “You dripped everywhere,” noted Sarah.


    Amdirlain blew a raspberry before digging into her ‘breakfast’.


    “The pair of you are strange oath sisters,” chuffed Jan’era.


    Fetching some cold fruit juice from the fridge, Sarah placed one in front of Jan’era. “I blame Am for that impression.”


    Pouting, Amdirlain pretended to ignore Sarah and focused on the fruit.


    “Okay, quit showing off that you’re no longer as flirty as you used to be,” laughed Sarah.


    “But I don’t want to,” lisped Amdirlain.


    Jan’era rubbed a hand across her face and sighed. “Should I give you two some time to figure things out?”


    “We’ll be staying for a few years. I’m going to annoy Jul’iane this morning and then maybe tell Jal’krin that I need riskier lyrics,” announced Amdirlain.


    Jan’era’s ears had perked up at the pronouncement, only for them to flatten before Amdirlain finished, and she quickly protested. “I just told you the Matriarch is already after you.”


    “I might not possess Femme Fatale anymore, but I bet the Matriarch doesn’t like my lyrics simply because she’s sexually repressed,” replied Amdirlain.


    “That’s the pot calling the kettle black,” muttered Sarah.


    Ignoring Sarah, Amdirlain continued. “Since I won’t be doing concerts, only releasing traces, I want my security support ended.”


    “What? Why?” spluttered Jan’era.


    “I took a Prestige Class last night. I plan to blow stuff up with my new options,” lied Amdirlain.


    “What did you take?” asked Jan’era suspiciously.


    Amdirlain’s smile was vicious. “War Bard. My voice is now a weapon in more ways than one.”


    ‘War Bard exists, so it’s a cute lie. You’re going to get them worried,’ projected Sarah.


    An image of an anime cat-girl grinning at a gleaming pink dragon appeared. ‘And I keep worrying one of them will get hurt when neither of us are close.’


    Sarah gave a mental growl. ‘I’m not pink.’


    ‘Who said that was you? Maybe it was the Matriarch.’


    “I’ve never heard of any Class like that,” huffed Jan’era.


    “It’s likely another weird throw back, just like Am,” offered Sarah.


    “Meanie,” sniffed Amdirlain, and she shovelled the fruit pieces into her mouth. “I’ll be late for Jul’iane’s lesson time.”


    “Will you please talk some sense into her?” pleaded Jan’era.


    “What? I want to kill them; she’s fine with chastisement,” rumbled Sarah. “Should I convince her to let me take body parts?”


    * * * * *


    Amdirlain walked through the training complex’s outer grounds that same morning. Around her, she could hear teams going over last-minute reviews of their plans. Most of that chatter concerned handling the entry levels, which held wild beasts of various strengths and low-level magical creatures like slimes. Lines of fresh groups without a token to use the beacons were slowly worming their way inside the complex doors.


    Her appearance had many looking her way, but Amdirlain’s predatory glide, simple black pants, and white shirt had them dismissing her similarity. Around the side of the complex, Jul’iane and the trainee monks moved across one of the park’s grassed areas and into another kata. A few groups of onlookers watched them move, some curious but most scornful.


    As Amdirlain stopped near one such group, a tan-furred female onlooker snorted. “It’s a pretty dance but hardly useful inside. Unless they plan to get someone to carry them in exchange for their gyrations.”


    Ignoring the comment, Amdirlain continued to watch and filed away more suggestions to provide Jul’iane for her students later.


    “Someone low-level like you should stay away from their foolishness,” the same voice added, and she tried to tap Amdirlain’s shoulder.


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    Amdirlain gently but firmly caught the onlooker’s finger between her thumb and forefinger before it made contact. “Appearances can be deceiving. You’re in your twenties in all four classes, so it’s a lesson you should have learnt by now.”


    “You’re just guessing,” accused the female.


    “Nope, I gained a Skill that lets me tell at a glance,” retorted Am. “Your level doesn’t make you an expert in everything. There are some creatures in the higher levels of the complex that ranged attacks don’t work on.”


    “Sure,” scoffed the female as she tried to draw her finger free with growing urgency.


    “Check the information boards; the first team encountering them came back with two serious casualties from dealing with the critter,” advised Amdirlain, unbothered by the female’s attempts to get free. “It seems teams are getting to areas that require more diversity in a team’s skillset.”


    Lashing her tail, the female growled. “Like a creature could resist energy projectors.”


    “It didn’t have to resist them; an aura deflected the bolts,” clarified Amdirlain, and she let the female’s hand go.


    The sudden release had the female thrown off balance, and Amdirlain gave her a cheerful smile.


    “Maybe you should spend more time doing diligent research and less being critical about someone else’s Class.”


    The female backed off, and Amdirlain gave her a cheerful smile.


    “Your death is your own business,” the female huffed and walked away.


    The disturbance drew Jul’iane’s attention, and she stalked over to Amdirlain, glancing meaningfully past her. “Where are the others?”


    “At home. Want to spar?” asked Amdirlain, and she motioned to the group. “Plenty of people around to lend a hand if something goes wrong.”


    Jul’iane started to object but stopped at Amdirlain’s grin. “I’m going to catch up to your Skill lead.”


    “Come by later, and I’ll get your confidence back under control,” replied Amdirlain, and she stopped to pat her pockets. “I’ve got some link codes for you.’


    “Why?” asked Jul’iane.


    Pulling a folded sheet from her pocket, Amdirlain held it out. “You were going to set up a new team. Kadaklan has a few alchemists and healers from his programs looking to gain some levels. He gave me their codes so you can line up interviews. Also, Wha’sin gave me the code of a dedicated Wizard named Tulne, plus some mixed combat types.”


    Huffing, Jul’iane took the folded film and eyed those nearby warily. The mention of Kadaklan’s unusual name had caught the attention of most of the onlookers; a few of them looked between Jul’iane and Amdirlain with growing suspicion.


    “Way to namedrop,” grumbled Jul’iane.


    “You standing near me already had them suspicious. Sarah gave me a getaway card,” murmured Amdirlain, and she spun an enchanted disc across her fingers and raised her voice. “Sorry I can’t stay, folks; got things to do.”


    Reappearing outside Jal’krin’s apartment, Amdirlain listened to the enchanted disc chiming away inside. When he paused, she pressed the rune on the door frame to alert him she was at the door.


    Amdirlain was about to press the rune again when she heard Jal’krin start towards the door. He opened it dressed in one of his usual short-sleeved shirts and shorts. However, searing bright yellow and blue flowers covered nearly all the black fabric.


    Damn Sarah and her Hawaiian prints.


    “You’re going to make someone’s eyes bleed,” protested Amdirlain.


    Jal’krin shrugged. “Sarah gave me boxes of them. I wear them at home.”


    “I didn’t know Sarah was propagating war crimes,” groaned Amdirlain, and she pretended to shield her eyes. “I was going to come and talk to you about some lyrics, but maybe I’ll come back another time.”


    Smiling at Amdirlain’s antics, Jal’krin stepped aside to let her into the living room. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll get changed.”


    Amdirlain stepped inside and noticed the lack of changes Jal’krin had made since moving in months earlier. With no artwork or even furniture beyond a few couches in the living room, the soft white glow of the walls was unblocked illumination. “Are you ever going to decorate?”


    “I spend little time in the living room; I’m writing, sleeping, or out,” replied Jal’krin. He returned wearing a black merchandise t-shirt from her first tour with the cities and dates in mute blue. Clothing merchandise hadn’t been done previously, and Jan’era had underestimated their sales.


    “I have a new project in mind,” laughed Amdirlain.


    “What?” asked Jal’krin, his suspicion drawing the word out.


    Amdirlain’s amused grin showed too many teeth. “I want to make the Matriarch’s head explode.”


    “Are you kidding me?”


    “Would I joke about a thing like that?” responded Amdirlain, and she touched a hand innocently to the side of her face. “I want lyrics that will make her people question her hold. I want them to ask: Why is it not their choice what they want from life?”


    And when they’re ready, I’ll give them a new world to move to, even if only a temporary refuge.


    Jal’krin frowned. “They wouldn’t even hear them, Am.”


    “You let me worry about them hearing the songs. First, I need the lyrics,” insisted Amdirlain.


    “How would you even do it?”


    “I expect it to take a while. The worst case is underground clubs, while the best case depends on how quickly one of Sarah’s projects works out. She’s been trying to figure out how the training complex’s creator managed that broadcast,” advised Amdirlain. “If she can work out the magic, I’ll pay her to help.”


    I’ll need to spread a few more seeds for that rumour to make the rounds.


    Scratching his head, Jal’krin fixed her with a look of pure disbelief. “When you came in here, I noticed your Charisma was easier to handle, and I figured things would be calmer. Are you looking to prove me wrong?”


    “I figured you’d like a bigger challenge after nearly six years of innuendo wordplay,” countered Amdirlain. “Are you looking to prove me wrong?”


    “You’re still impossible to argue with,” huffed Jal’krin. “Fine. What do you have in mind?”


    “I want us to create music that, in a hundred years, if things are wrong, people will use it as a rallying cry for change,” replied Amdirlain.


    “You know the Allied Territories has its share of problems,” said Jal’krin.


    “I’m well aware of that, and the oligarchy has its share of problems. It''s interesting what you did with your writing royalties. Buying places to increase your pride’s safety net instead of returning to school,” commented Amdirlain.


    “What professor would want a multi-hit writer in their class?” questioned Jal’krin as he avoided Amdirlain''s dig. “Even if the hits are more from your talent than my songwriting skills.”


    “Don’t sell your talent short. You’ve gotten over forty levels in your Composer Class, so you were most certainly doing something right,” retorted Amdirlain.


    “Can we still toss in some frisky wordplay?” asked Jal’krin with a cheeky smile.


    “I didn’t say all the songs had to inspire revolutionary fever. Getting people hot is fine as well,” laughed Amdirlain.


    Jal’krin gave a smug grin. “You said you wanted to make her head explode. Let’s see if we can make the stuck-up despot blow her top. I take it Jan’era told you about the moral enemy pronouncement?”


    “Yep,” popped Amdirlain. “How did you hear about it?”


    “Okay, no wonder you’re particularly fired up,” said Jal’krin. “I was over at Jan’era’s last night talking about projects for some of the studio’s other acts. Lady Cla’nes called her to give the news.”


    “Shall I leave you to it?”


    Jal’krin shrugged and motioned to her. “What happened to your Femme Fatale?”


    “I turned it into Muse’s Insight and Bard into War Bard,” replied Amdirlain.


    “Entering the arena of cultural warfare, are we?”


    The moment Jan’era gave me the news.


    “Why, yes!”


    Shaking his head in amusement, Jal’krin motioned to the spare bedroom. “I’ve got my composition gear and instruments set up there. Want to brainstorm?”


    By the time she left Jal’krin to it, Muse’s Insight had worked overtime on his imagination, and together, they had the concepts for not one, but three sets worked out. One set promised to be distinctly raunchier than anything Amdirlain had performed before. The lyrical seeds of sexually suggestive references had fired things up.


    The others contrasted the cost of the safety the Matriarch’s rule promised with the price paid by the common citizen. Pointing to the Matriarch''s demand for blind obedience to her personality cult and comparing out to the worshippers of gods was sure to go well. Adding fuel to the fire were others with a subtle wordplay about ‘cultural’ genocide. The religious wars, having led to countless genocides, were tales the locals kept alive and well.


    * * * * *


    It was mid-afternoon when the lift doors opened on Lady Cla’nes’s floor, and Ssa’time was waiting for Amdirlain. She had seen her dozens of times over nearly six years, and rarely with the same style braids. This time was again something new; the steel-hued ribbons secured her auburn hair in a bow of braids atop her head. Her only jewellery was the enchanted bracelets on her wrists and bright emerald clasps in her hair. The gemstones precisely matched the colour of the form-fitting dress that sheathed her muscular form. It was cut away high on her left thigh and came down at an angle that ended just above her right ankle.


    Amdirlain smiled. “Good afternoon, Ssa’time.”


    Nodding politely, Ssa’time returned the smile before stepping aside. “Good afternoon, Am. Congratulations on the tour; the reviews from all your shows were very complementary.”


    Exiting the lift, Amdirlain took in the new artwork that floated above the double-story living space. “We kept the various hiccups from the audience’s attention.”


    “No abduction attempts this time?”


    “None that got close to me,” agreed Amdirlain. “Your cousin is great; Jul’iane said she learnt a lot from him.”


    Ssa’time beamed. “I’m pleased to hear it. Lady Cla’nes is waiting in the theatre room; if you would follow me.”


    “I’m surprised he didn’t mention it; he was the principal on scene for two attempts.”


    “Your business isn’t mine, Am,” replied Ssa’time as she led the way through the gleaming metal and stone space laid out to allow guests to mingle freely.


    As she headed towards the back of the space, two staff members brought another painting out through a concealed door along the side. It swung silently shut behind them to sit flush with the stonework and disguise the passage entry perfectly.


    “I’ve heard bits and pieces about your homeland. I don’t suppose you’d give me your insights some time?”


    “The Matriarch’s enforcers have taken a hard line with you, likely because of how much you can amplify your Charisma,” replied Ssa’time. “You’re not a normal performer, and you turned down the Matriarch’s request to give her a personal concert on your second tour.”


    “I didn’t want to have to break out,” shrugged Amdirlain.


    “I hope your security detail is downstairs. A group of her agents are watching the front of the building,” cautioned Ssa’time.


    “Sarah made me a gadget to let me jump about the place; not using a vehicle at all is much more secure,” replied Amdirlain.


    Ssa’time touched the mithril bracelet on her wrist. “Your oath sister does good work; her security upgrades are high quality indeed.”


    “Has she shown you her latest toys yet?”


    Opening the panel at the back of the room, Ssa’time allowed her into a passage with an aquatic motif. The soft white light of the stones shone through stained glass panels bringing to life an underwater scene; highly detailed fish and coral abounded. “I’ve not spoken to her in a few months.”


    “Miniature aerial weapons platform, capable of melting an armoured vehicle in seconds,” offered Amdirlain. “Plus, others capable of holding off the same strength barrage.”


    Her ears twitched rapidly as Ssa’time blinked. “I’ll send her a note.”


    The theatre had enough space for fifty guests on luxuriously comfortable couches. Its entrance lined up with the centre aisle and looked down to the stage nearly three metres below. Instead of performers, a large receiver on the back wall showed a military parade in progress. The crisp grey and black uniforms showed the Matriarch’s trident crest on their collar.


    “Afternoon Cla’nes. Who is she showing off for this time?” Amdirlain asked as she drew closer to Cla’nes’s position on a couch at the theatre’s mid-point.


    Cla’nes rose and hugged Amdirlain. “Afternoon, Am. The parade’s location is outside Stelish in her domain’s northwest.”


    “Looking for anything in particular among the propaganda?”


    “Some particular military units, and I wanted to see the crowd’s vibe for myself,” replied Cla’nes. “It’s the first parade since she took the city from the Ulna Alliance. While they don’t have a lot of presence on this continent, I’m disappointed they didn’t put more effort into holding onto the seaport.”


    “Maybe they figured it was easier to let her have it and trade through the oligarchy’s ports further north,” suggested Amdirlain.


    “They didn’t blow up the drydocks or do anything to the harbour, so I think she bribed their military commanders,” offered Ssa’time. “It’s the deepest port on the west coast, so they’ll be able to construct some serious vessels.”


    Cla’nes nodded in agreement, and after turning the receiver off, she sat. “It seems you’ve thoroughly resolved your Femme Fatale issue. I barely sense anything—even when hugging you—though you’re still gorgeous.”


    “Now she just flows like a close-quarter Assassin,” noted Ssa’time.


    Amdirlain huffed. “Jan’era compared me to a huntress.”


    “But what are you hunting?” responded Ssa’time, and she gave Amdirlain a wink before she withdrew.


    With her departure, Amdirlain moved to the couch on the other side of Cla’nes. “I’m going to annoy her.”


    “Ssa’time or the Matriarch?”


    “Ssa’time has more sense,” quipped Amdirlain. “Now that the Matriarch has a solid border with the oligarchy, what expansion do you think she’ll target next?”


    Cla’nes frowned. “You were intent on staying out of politics.”


    “Getting labelled a moral enemy simply because of my songs and shows I feel deserves a lesson in manners,” replied Amdirlain.


    “What about the ongoing issue with the Eldritch?”


    It seems not everyone got a ''the coast is clear'' notification.


    Amdirlain tilted her head and smiled reassuringly. “I’ve received confirmation that we closed off the active entities. However, the teams still need to keep looking for the sigils.”


    “Are you going to continue with more training complexes?”


    “That is the plan. I’m divided about setting any up in the Matriarch’s Domain,” admitted Amdirlain. “There were no ongoing conflicts when I started executing the plan. How will she react to training complexes in any of the domain’s cities?”


    Cla’nes refreshed her drink and filled a cup for Amdirlain. “Likely, they’d just use them to season troops. They’ve not come off their war footing since taking the coastal cities from the Ulna Alliance. No other country could take on millions of new citizens.”


    “I’ll set up a refuge similar to one of the training levels. My information-gathering orbs could ask people if they wanted to be taken somewhere safe,” advised Amdirlain. “I had been thinking about causing a revolution, but the likelihood of casualties is too high with her control over the military.”


    “Regardless of who else also has them, their military is going to get stronger,” cautioned Cla’nes. “What happens if the military members pretend to take the option to leave and try to round up the refugees?”


    “I’ll put them in a different location, and they’d best hope they’ve got their weapons with them,” replied Amdirlain. “You’d think they’d have better things to do with the gods’ graves. Deaths in an area just make the local Gods’ Grave stronger. I haven’t wanted to know before, but how does she even have control?”


    “The Matriarch’s family has controlled their territory for over a thousand years. All the local wizards go through their ‘school’, and come out very loyal. Her father was a Wizard possessing the Life Affinity or another means of extending his life. He started the Domain by warding a large town, and slowly progressed to having one city and then others,” explained Cla’nes.


    Amdirlain hummed thoughtfully. “How long ago did he die?”


    “Tales say he’s still alive. He handed her control nearly three hundred and fifty years ago after she killed a spawning abomination solo.”


    “Did she?” asked Amdirlain sceptically.


    “Who knows? That’s the official report; anything to the contrary is just lies of horrible and disloyal people.”


    “Alright, why don’t you give me a rundown,” invited Amdirlain.


    Cla’nes called back Ssa’time, and Amdirlain picked up the drink Cla’nes had poured. Taking a sip, she settled down to listen, drawing clarification from Cla’nes and Ssa’time’s thoughts.


    Exiting the lift foyer, Amdirlain caught the individuals with different agendas monitoring foot traffic out front. Dipping into their minds, she discovered both groups had paid off building staff to contact them by pretending to be newscasters. Unconcerned, Amdirlain headed up the street towards a large mall.


    I make all the best friends—doomsayers and magical jackboot specialists.


    Amdirlain sent Sarah the details and asked if she also wanted to play.