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


    Ultimately, Amdirlain had to break the curse and trim Roher’s arm to the shoulder socket. Having already blocked his sense of pain before they started, she started regrowing his arm using Universal Life. The gold light shining through her flesh had Roher looking at her with an uncomfortable mix of reverent awe and compassion.


    “Please stop,” murmured Amdirlain.


    “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” apologised Roher.


    Amdirlain lifted an eyebrow. “Pry about what?”


    Roher blinked. “Your Soul’s song.”


    Laughing, Amdirlain continued healing his arm. “I told you to listen to other people’s songs. I can hardly blame you for that.”


    Roher’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Then why did you tell me to stop?”


    “The look in your eyes,” said Amdirlain.


    “Relax, Roher. I’m confident Auntie Am will find a way to heal herself, though her being bashful is cute,” declared Gail, as her tail swished happily.


    Sarah snorted. “You should have seen her with her early fans.”


    “Hush,” grumbled Amdirlain.


    “No, I must know more,” protested Gail, and she clutched at Sarah’s hand, her eyes wide with playful excitement. “Please tell me more. I’ll sing you up a hundred ingots of mithril for some Aunt Am stories.”


    Her attempts to lighten the room’s mood had Amdirlain growling playfully. “Three hundred to not.”


    “One hundred a year,” countered Gail.


    “I like this bidding, even if you’re both being cheap,” laughed Sarah as she sent Gail dozens of images of Am posing awkwardly for admirers at a signing.


    Despite keeping Universal Life active, Amdirlain yelped. “SARAH!”


    Sarah and Gail both burst out laughing.


    “You looked so flustered and cute,” squealed Gail, and she clapped excitedly.


    “That’s because of how Femme Fatale made some of those fans react,” protested Amdirlain.


    “No, it’s just because you make such a cute cat girl,” reported Sarah. “Your ears are still so expressive, and your tail swishing in those early days was more adorable than a new hatchling.”


    Gail gave a cheerful nod of approval. “So cute. It is a challenge taking on the form of some species, to adjust to their body language. I''ve found Aquatic species to be difficult. Visiting the Merfolk along the peninsula was something else.”


    Turning to Isa, Gail smiled at her distracted gaze.


    “Do you want a copy?” asked Amdirlain, though she didn’t take her attention from Roher’s arm.


    “Of course,” replied Gail, and she beat Amdirlain to singing a duplicate crystal and bounced it on her palm. “You’re too used to doing things for others; some of us can do things for ourselves.”


    Sarah’s tail thumped against the couch. “It will be less hair-raising for the people of Sanctuary’s Cove for you to be here for a time.”


    “Gaius is still there teaching,” Gail advised softly.


    “And?” asked Sarah, her ears twitching in confusion.


    “I know you’ve gone your separate ways, but I thought you should know. You know, in case you dropped by,” advised Gail.


    Sarah patted her hand reassuringly. “You repaid a lot of the debt I felt I owed him. We’re friends, and we had fun. Guilt and longing for what might have been isn’t a healthy starting point for a relationship. Plus, he’s far too attached to life as a Human. I’m sure he’ll find more than a few ladies who will happily get involved with your Master Artificer.”


    “Not like I can tell where you’re at; your theme’s impossible to grasp properly,” huffed Gail, and her ears dropped dramatically. “At least that is explained fully now.”


    “Not quite in full. I still don’t know how Ori did it,” grumbled Amdirlain.


    “Oh, poor baby,” laughed Sarah.


    Glancing between them, Gail smiled. “At least you have each other’s backs.”


    “I think we need to show you on your way,” grumbled Sarah.


    Pouting, Gail’s shoulders slumped, and she sniffled theatrically. “I wasn’t poking my nose into your business. Don’t be mean to me.”


    “We can’t let you always have your way,” Sarah retorted and waved a reproving finger. “You might get-”


    Gail sniffed and raised her hands in surrender. “Okay, sorry.”


    “I wasn’t intending to embarrass you, even if I have plenty of ammunition,” stated Sarah, and she patted Gail’s ears reassuringly.


    “Did you want to stick around for long? Look at what you’ll have to endure,” remarked Amdirlain.


    “For at least a little while. Can we sing at a club or something with you, Auntie Am?” asked Gail, perking straight up.


    Amdirlain blinked in surprise at her sudden reversal. “What?”


    “I’ve done some performances at town festivals, but never at something like the clubs here. It looks like fun,” enthused Gail.


    “Any reason?” asked Amdirlain.


    Gail shrugged. “Does there have to be a reason besides entertaining others?”


    “Bringing enjoyment to others has an attraction of its own,” agreed Amdirlain.


    Spreading her arms wide, Gail grinned. “Don’t you want to get the Matriarch worried? More of those from that sinner''s pride around; oh the pain.”


    A growl rumbled in the back of Amdirlain’s throat. “Poking that despot is going to be extending my public time here. Ssa’time filled me in on how controlling she is of others’ lives.”


    “How about the three of us drive them crazy?” asked Isa.


    “Four,” corrected Roher.


    The ladies all looked at Roher, and he gave a crooked smile. “It has been a while since I sang purely for pleasure.”


    “Jan’era will have a fit,” laughed Sarah. “Maybe give her advance notice and let her sort out the venue?”


    “Where is the spontaneous fun in that?” huffed Gail.


    Amdirlain nodded towards Sarah. “Sarah’s right, we should do it properly. A short impromptu performance is one thing; a planned event is different, so I’ll let Jan’era know and see what she can arrange.”


    “That’s fine since I’m not hearing a no,” cheered Gail.


    “You are indeed not hearing a no,” agreed Amdirlain. “Perhaps review the songs for the demi-planes. I’ll drop Jan’era a note and see what she can line up for a chance to have fun.”


    “We’ll have to decide what we sing,” noted Roher.


    “Why decide?” asked Isa. “One of us pick a starting point and see what vocalisations we can weave.”


    “Going to decide who starts randomly?” asked Sarah.


    Isa smiled. “It’s Amdirlain’s playing field; the rest of us are guests. Is it alright if we decide the order we join in randomly?”


    Wiggling with excitement, Gail nodded. “I’m fine with that.”


    With the nails of Roher’s fingers restored, the last of the glow faded from Amdirlain’s hands. “All done. I’ll contact Jan’era, and then we can experiment before tonight.”


    [Universal Life [S] (111->112)]


    Gail perked up further. “I’m so excited.”


    * * * * *


    A couple of hours later, the studio they arrived at was the same one Al’stri typically used, but Amdirlain was well aware it wasn’t his standard show time.


    Their afternoon arrival would have the show air immediately after the news rather than in the later entertainment slot. That was if it were the usual preparation time, not something fast-tracked like the whole arrangement. Introducing themselves with aliases, one of Kal’strum’s assistants showed the four of them through to dressing rooms and, in hers, Amdirlain found one of her more sedate outfits. The dark blue body suit was nearly the colour of her fur, with silver threads shot through it.


    Kal’strum and Jan’era were waiting in the corridor when Amdirlain emerged.


    After exchanging greetings, Jan’era smiled at Amdirlain. “I thought you told me you’d retired.”


    “I might have been a little premature in that declaration to you; however, there won’t be any tours. I’ll just be recording traces and smaller shows,” advised Amdirlain.


    “You made that clear on the link,” nodded Jan’era. “It doesn’t matter the size of the shows you want to put on. Being around will help us support the smaller acts you want to sponsor.”


    “You said it’s a special show. What’s on the agenda tonight?” asked Amdirlain.


    Kal’strum motioned them to move along as she explained. “A panel for public reassurance. We’ve got military talking heads, patron interests, and various folks wanting to discuss the training complexes and impacts on expeditions.”


    “I doubt they’re going away,” commented Amdirlain, and she took in some familiar tunes in other dressing rooms.


    Kal’strum smiled. “Some people like to air their theories. I understand that a few of the cities where complexes recently appeared are a little jittery, so the patrons sponsored this panel. Some of it will be a friendly debate while we try to entice people to think and then insert a few facts.”


    “So we’re to draw the audience in and keep them for the panel?” asked Amdirlain.


    Jan’era nodded. “That’s the goal.”


    “You could have just told me that in advance,” said Amdirlain. “This isn’t Al’stri’s usual light-heartedness.”


    “Special show for him as well. We’re looking to branch out,” explained Kal’strum.


    “I only got the full details after you arrived,” grumbled Jan’era.


    “We were still confirming guests. I’m just glad you were available; it let us get others into the studio that were fence-sitting,” grumbled Kal’strum.


    “Fine, I’ll tell the others not to get too wild then,” laughed Amdirlain.


    “Are you sure they’re up to the challenge?” asked Kal’strum. “Gail looks a little too excitable with big city eyes going on.”


    “It’ll be fine. She’s just having fun,” reassured Amdirlain.


    “Are you going to pull any more surprises in your not-retirement?” asked Jan’era.


    “Absolutely,” laughed Amdirlain.


    “Just vocalisations tonight, right? We’re not igniting a political battlefront?” asked Jan’era.


    “We’re just going to have a little fun,” protested Amdirlain.


    “After the mall, that’s what I’m afraid of,” huffed Jan’era.


    “Feel free to let loose with the salvos; it would be great for ratings after word of mouth about the mall,” laughed Kal’strum.


    Amdirlain caught the signal from the stagehand waiting with the others, and she practically skipped down the corridor and gave Roher a wink. “Fancy seeing you here.”


    “So, what theme are we going for?” asked Roher.


    “There is a panel after us. Let’s go with battling the undead; make people consider the stakes,” replied Amdirlain. “Then cheer them up afterwards.”


    “Break a leg,” muttered Sarah.


    “The show must go on,” cheered Gail, and she moved to follow Amdirlain through the door.


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    The stagehand just inside provided last-minute direction. With the four of them singing, the producer had opted for boom microphones instead of clipping anything to their clothing or having them hold them in their hands. The overhead lighting washed across her outfit, sparkling off the silver threads. Gail and Isa followed together, and Roher brought up the rear, his blond-furred disguise coping with the lights and the caster’s attention.


    A Fallen enters a bar, followed by an Angel and two ageless elves. What’s the punchline?


    Amdirlain let out the eerie undertone of the ghost caverns and almost had the audience’s fur standing on end. As the audiences'' heart rates spiked, Isa brought in the sharp cutting notes of a flurry of projector bolts, and quickly, their themes entwined, depicting a battle wholly joined. Gail added a more menacing tone, interweaving melodies of fire wraiths, among other undead. The battle raged in ebbs and flows before Roher brought the dawn’s principal theme.


    His choice of interplay left Amdirlain having to restrain her twitches of amusement. Within the dawn’s theme came uplifting strains full of determination and endurance, pushing the grim music back. Slowly Gail and then Amdirlain let their grim tones fade. The ebb of their music became eerie notes that signalled danger chased beneath the earth, sealed away but potentially to come again.


    The next song started with bright, merry notes, switching between Amdirlain and Isa to convey playfulness. Their interchange wrestled and squirmed in a give-and-take between the singers. The contrast with the early grim battle made the cheerfulness that much brighter. Gail added giggling notes among the playful cheer, with Roher’s theme of safety carrying his love for his children and the value of family.


    The performance lasted almost an hour and when it ended, the rune lights on the microphones faded and the studio switched to the first advertisement.


    Kal’strum came striding onto the sound stage, shaking hands and brushing cheeks.


    “I could almost see a tale being told before my eyes,” gushed Kal’strum, and she turned her gaze on Roher with the acquisitive gleam of a collector. “Rohmistra, will you be staying in Osaphis long? I’d love to have you appear on our regular shows; your pride must have some interesting talents amongst them.”


    She likes to collect male guests to turn the playbook around on Al’stri.


    Roher carefully shook his head. “I only came to visit Am and celebrate her success after all the news others had shared. Gail wanted to have fun singing together, but this was a once-off event. I’ve got a mate and children waiting at home.”


    Kal’strum huffed sadly, but she nodded her understanding. “I hope you’ll all be staying to listen to the panel on the training complexes and recent events.”


    “So you want us to wrap up the show?”


    “A small encore?” proposed Kal’strum. “This has been hastily arranged.”


    Amdirlain nodded. “I’ve got a few new songs to sing. Do we get seats or stand in the wings?”


    Her eyes lit with glee, and Kal’strum’s ears twitched. “More of those political songs, I hope. We’ve got seats for you, just not on the stage this time, Am.”


    The seating Kal’strum escorted them to was in the front row but off to one side, where they found Sarah waiting with studio security stationed nearby.


    “You might have told Jan’era to dial back your security, but I’ve got our reputation to consider if you’re hurt,” said Kal’strum.


    “Fine, I can understand the concern,” allowed Amdirlain, and she greeted those in the nearby seats and took her place.


    * * * * *


    The first panel members were high-ranking in the city’s hierarchy, so the last would have been a surprise if Amdirlain hadn’t heard her arrive. Wha’sin looked relaxed as she came on stage to take her place on the panel.


    “Thank you for joining us, Commander Wha’sin,” offered Al’stri, and he offered her his trademark flirting smile.


    Nodding, Wha’sin’s smile was more diplomatic and reserved. “It’s a pleasure to be here.”


    “For those unfamiliar with the Commander’s reputation, she’s a decorated military officer, having survived participation in two strikes against spawning abominations. During her time with the law keepers she handled a range of multi-city investigations and led cooperative task forces to track down undead and investigate magical events. She also has first-hand insights into the lakefront incident,” announced Al’stri. “That perhaps drew the creator of the training complexes’ attention to her, as she was provided the original version of the question spheres by the mysterious cabal.”


    ‘They’re making that the official line. Do I regain my subtle points?’ Amdirlain enquired mentally, giving Sarah pleading kitten eyes.


    Sarah snorted. ‘They get diplomatic points, you get zip.’


    As soon as she was done acknowledging the studio’s welcome, Al’stri turned his attention to the four other guests on stage. Tal’noc of Manarein pride was the current Commander of the military base. Though mostly covered in dark blue fur, his lower muzzle looked nearly black in direct sunlight when it was an earthen brown. He was lean with whipcord muscles and in a neatly pressed grey military uniform. He was recently promoted, and despite his high levels, he had yet to take any Prestige Class. Though Amdirlain noted his Class levels were all getting towards a certain height, he’d likely be well past ninety before the next spawning abomination arose.


    The patron council representative was Ea’riln of Spellclash pride, his family’s involvement in the strange matters had temporarily dropped a cloud over his political plans. He wore customary Wizard half robes in red and metallic silver, cinched at the waist with a grey belt that showed his battalion’s military service.


    The city’s chief economist and head of the reserve was Mon’tra of Goldgrain pride. She was a delicate and precise individual with amber-honey fur and an upper muzzle dusted with dark spots that reached just beneath her eyes, making it look like she had freckles. Her attire was rather severe, with a black-on-black layered suit with three gold threads at the collar curled in the shape of the local grain.


    Head of the vehicle manufacturing conglomerate was Ril’tres of Brightsteel pride. His tuxedo-fur coat was a reverse of black on white. It had provided him with a black pirate patch around his left eye, that added to his roguish air. His muscular shoulders were barely constrained by the tan and grey shirt he wore, but the tailoring avoided any bunching despite the difficulty.


    “Commander Wha’sin, I’m sure you’ve been asked this too many times to count, but what brought you back into the cavern as part of the third battalion to be sent in? You were second in charge of the first battalion, and your people had already paid a heavy price. Hadn’t you done enough for the city?”


    “Can we ever do enough for the city? Many units take the same approach as the battalion I was part of—if we can fight a bit longer, maybe we can save dozens of others,” countered Wha’sin.


    Wha’sin''s gaze darkened, and Tal’noc, seeing it, stepped in. “Switching between strike battalions takes time, and with the route changing, having members from the prior strike force returning speeds up the process. It is purely voluntary given the miasma in the place, and no one can tell how much exposure will injure an individual.”


    “The mortality rate of the first battalion was over ninety per cent; there weren’t many fit to volunteer. With twelve hundred soldiers needing a guide, I offered to help, and after five days of constant fighting, just under five hundred wounded returned.”


    “Was that when you lost your left arm?” asked Al’stri.


    “I had already lost an arm and later suffered extensive organ damage, yet I was still one of the lucky ones,” replied Wha’sin.


    Al’stri frowned to play his part. “Did the medical area come under attack?”


    Wha’sin smiled. “No, Al’stri. Why would I stay in the medical area when I can cast spells without an arm? The organ damage came after I returned to the fighting.”


    “I believe your pride paid a steep price during those expeditions,” said Al’stri.


    “We lost four members in the fighting. My mate returned to guide the third battalion, and they finished it off. The civilian price was worse in the twenty days before confirming manifestation; it had released fourteen million spectres that collapsed a section of the city’s grid.”


    “The service of prides such as Commander Wha’sin’s is the backbone of the military,” Tal’noc said. “The most recent strike battalions endured similar casualties five years ago. Whatever group is responsible for the training complexes, their availability has put us ahead of the curve for training new personnel. We’ve been rotating troops from other cities that expect to see a manifestation soon.”


    “Was it lessons from the previous fighting that allowed us to avoid any grid collapses during the most recent appearance?” asked Al’stri.


    “If I may,” Mon’tra interjected. “The city determined there were slightly over eighty trillion Mana credits injected into the grid at the peak strain of the assault. We’ve not determined who provided all the Mana.”


    Ea’riln coughed. “That’s pure speculation. Some areas had malfunctions in their tracking mechanisms.”


    “Some of their tracking mechanisms,” corrected Mon’tra sternly. “They don’t show full energy costs. However, stress counters were in the range that we should have seen cascading spikes in mana consumption through primary and second nodes.”


    Al’stri smoothly interjected. “It’s a fascinating topic, and I’ll see if we can host a technical forum to review it. Commander Tal’noc, aside from the troop preparations, have the training facilities provided any other assistance to the city?”


    Tal’noc laughed. “I’m not sure where to start. Since my list is rather extensive, what would you like to cover first?”


    “What about equipment? While certainly there is a surplus of mithril, I’m knowledgeable enough to know you need more than metal,” offered Al’stri.


    “The military and civilian gathering teams have brought in more materials than the local artificers and alchemists can currently use to replace our gear,” Tal’noc said, and his undertone had Mon’tra and Ril’tres twitching their ears sharply.


    Mon’tra cut in. “I think the key word there is ‘local’, and there is plenty of time for them to restore the complete complement of military equipment before it is needed.”


    “We’ve been asking the Triumvirate Campus to explain the reduction of student positions in those fields,” replied Ril’tres. “It doesn’t hurt to stockpile the materials, as we’ll have all the required armaments produced in time.”


    “The campus facilities have suffered from the disappearance of several professors,” replied Ea’riln. “At present, we believe they were among those drawn into the foundation cult whose members the cabal purged.”


    Al’stri nodded, though Amdirlain caught he’d have preferred to tackle the topic later. “Many rumours have spread about the age-reversed individuals with wiped memories. Even an explosion that damaged printing equipment has been credited to the cabal that opened the training centre. What’s the law keepers’ view on this matter?”


    ‘They’re pushing the cabal theory,’ noted Sarah, and she sent an image of dozens of Amdirlain’s pacing around a circle chanting for kitty treats.


    “It is concerning that people have been attacked and altered, but investigation into known associates and shifts in patterns of behaviour have turned up a cult that has hidden itself in the city for over three centuries. The age of the illegal wards, ritual sacrifice circles, and religious indoctrination show decades of covert activity. The tribunal’s position is that we would have suffered far greater city disruption if the group had continued to grow,” stated Wha’sin.


    “With all the chaos, how does the tribunal see it in that light?" asked Mon’tra, her words slightly stilted as if reading a question someone had forced on her.


    “The official law keepers’ investigation concluded that the cabal shut down the restoration of worship involving a particularly foul dark power. They referred to it—before their dramatic display—as an infection. What greater danger could they be talking about than the return of the gods?” asked Wha’sin.


    Ea’riln nodded. “Indeed, the cult was trying to restore the worship of old powers; it’s no wonder the cabal called the memories they purged an infection.”


    Mirroring his body language, Al’stri nodded. “Rumours have come thick and fast about the state of the religion involved. Is there anything else in that space that the patron council would like shared with the viewers?”


    “Official investigations continue, and the outcome will be made public. My pride was appalled by the early revelations of those we believed to be upstanding community members involved in such a sickening endeavour,” replied Ea’riln.


    Mon’tra nodded. “I’m not sure any of us will ever get all the answers, but it’s clear to my pride that whatever Wizard cabal has been working behind the scenes has done us a service.”


    “We’d have to agree wholeheartedly,” said Ea’riln.


    “Are we sure they’re wizards?” asked Al’stri. “Many say their displays are impossible for our magic to perform.”


    “I’ve got the latest information on their biggest displays to share. Recently, researchers have figured out how to move such a large mass into the sky. The mithril put in place likely had been enchanted, and the effort burnt out the enchantments,” said Ril’tres.


    ‘Where and when did they get that idea?’ queried Sarah. ‘He’s got all happy vibes about spreading the news but no details.’


    ‘I caught them using a temporal detection Spell last month. No big deal, it picked up the gravity sheer effects I had on the leading end of the mithril,’ replied Amdirlain. ‘That leap of logic let them stumble onto a comfortable theory they’re researching. They’re trying to figure out how to improve airships. If it comes your way, try to help them stay inside the atmosphere.’


    “But where would they have gotten that amount of mithril?” asked Al’stri.


    “There are two working theories for that,” replied Ea’riln. “The first is that the mythical dwarves might be the parties behind this. Second, the group has accessed the Elemental Plane of Earth or somewhere further afield. The second theory has the strongest support among those investigating, given the planar regions making up the training complexes to which they’ve provided access.”


    “Not just wizards; we’ve evidence there are skilled artificers involved as well,” Ril’tres declared, warming to the subject, he rushed on. “We continually turn up enchanted elements within the training complexes, showing high arcane sophistication, but nothing has shown traces of divine energies. Many are variations on what we have done, but with clear efficiencies we can learn. It’s clear they think in similar ways with similar issues.”


    “What sort of issues?” asked Al’stri, getting him to pause for a breath.


    Ril’tres coughed as he realised he’d gone off the scripted topics. “A portable toilet and washroom for camping was found recently; it expands from a plate the size of my hand to a washroom you’d find in a luxury hotel. Pretty sure only a Mortal being worries about scat.”


    The audience laughed, and Al’stri tilted his head, twitching his tail to mirror the live audience’s curiosity. “But there are so many items showing up; can we be sure?”


    “We’ve found no traces of the divine energies like those within old relics,” confirmed Ril’tres. “We’ve been learning how the aspects that were unclear at first work.”


    With the topic back under control, Al’stri perked up, mirroring the audience’s interest. “Do you have an example that you can share?”


    “Take the clear faux-glass spires many teams used to access the training complex. At first, we didn’t know how they worked. Only last month, researchers found a dimensional rift enchantment embedded in them. Our researchers took the time to learn how the runes were so deeply inserted, leaving only mana impressions. Tests show the approach will increase equipment durability,” Ril’tres gushed.


    ‘A deep insertion.’ snickered Sarah mentally. ‘Next thing, they’ll be offering you fan service.’


    ‘Hush you or I’ll put you deep in a dangerous demi-plane,’ grumbled Amdirlain.


    Sarah’s mental laughter warmed the link. ‘Tsk, rewarding bad behaviour.’


    “It uses runes found in ancient Artificer writings but whose purpose and empowerment weren’t known. It’s clearly the work of a society that knows things we’ve lost during either one of the fallen cities, or even before gods’ graves.”


    As the panel discussion went on, Amdirlain warned Sarah about the teams approaching the studio.


    “I’m going to the washroom,” whispered Sarah, and she slipped from her chair towards the studio’s side door.


    ‘What, you want to stop being subtle as well?’


    ‘Pfft,’ retorted Sarah.


    Sarah didn’t go to the lobby; she waited in the lady’s washroom on the floor above. The vehicles that pulled into the studio’s parking lot disgorged multiple contingents of enforcers. When those securing the sides and rear were in position, the main attackers headed in. The security guards at the front desk were mainly there to keep things orderly when the audience and guests arrived, but they were still armed. Seeing the energy projectors already in the hands of the ten enforcers that swept into the building, they went for their own. One guard fired first and drove a pair of enforcers into cover as the rest opened fire.


    Sarah’s drones dropped from the ceiling and raised a shimmering barrier. The projector bolts crossing through it had most of their strength quashed.


    “Enforcers; sit, stay, beg, or be dead.”


    As the drones snuffed more weapon fire from the Matriarch’s enforcers, a flurry of bolts struck the ground beside them, but they continued attacking.


    Sarah’s disguised voice growled again. “You choosing to die?” Positioned on the floor above, her Dragon Fear rampaged downwards into the foyer and smashed into the enforcers.


    Two attackers dropped to their knees, their weapons falling from their hands as they clutched at their heads. Their leader started an Acid Storm Spell, only for a drone to spin forward at near-supersonic speeds. His energy wards and other protections were set up to block magical effects, not excessive brute force.


    Others turned to run and, fleeing from their cover, were struck by the guards’ return fire. Their high levels allowed them to soak up the damage until more drones thinned into discs, firing themselves at hypervelocity, severing limbs and decapitating those who hadn’t dropped their weapons. The enforcers alongside the building died before all the drones vanished.


    ‘Hello? How was that subtle?’ asked Amdirlain.


    ‘Who me? I didn’t do a thing. Tasty experience; they had their chance,’ Sarah offered through the mental link.


    ‘Really?’


    Sarah sent her a Chesire grin. ‘My choice.’


    ‘You know, with all the exits currently crime scenes, I’m going to have to perform a longer encore.’


    ‘I can tell how much that pains you,’ replied Sarah. ‘You going to beam up fifty-eight million people from the Matriarch’s domain?’


    ‘I’ll get started on planning a hollow earth demi-plane and how to steal those that don’t want to be there. What you do is up to you.’ replied Amdirlain as she considered the research work ahead.


    ‘That Wizard’s Spell was going to fill the corridors.’


    ‘Yeah, they don’t care who dies.’ growled Amdirlain.