Amdirlain’s PoV - Material Plane - Qil Tris - Year 4370 (Local calendar)
Amdirlain sang multiple encores to entertain the audience caught up in the law keepers’ investigation, which kept them there for hours.
When they returned to the apartment, Gail gave Amdirlain an edged smile. “Can I help you smack that bitch into the wall? Seriously, she sent kill teams?”
“We’re going to take care of the situation,” reassured Amdirlain.
Sarah gave a predatory smile that had Gail’s ears twitching.
“Just like the Kraken?” grumbled Gail. “Is Sarah going to steal all the fun?”
“What Kraken?” asked Amdirlain.
Gail gave Amdirlain an innocent smile; her public mind immediately focused on reviewing the evening’s singing.
“It was nothing, not even worth mentioning,” said Sarah.
“Everyone’s story doesn’t revolve around you, Auntie Am,” Gail said, giving a cheeky wink.
“Brat, why mention it then? Hey, are you planning a family yet? I mean, getting towards your thirties, and at the rate you grew, that’s in your hundreds easily,” teased Amdirlain.
Gail pouted. “Mother teases me about that, so please don’t start. I told her she’s more than welcome to have a few thousand children to keep herself busy and repopulate the Anar, but she refused.”
“I think the realm has enough on its plate with you, Your Majesty,” offered Roher.
“After I gain my Prestige Class maybe I’ll renounce the throne. Let the Anar use choir councils as well,” proposed Gail.
Isa frowned. “I think you’ll need to keep the job for a bit; after all, you’ll be the guiding Elder and need the authority, or they’ll run over you.”
“If I need the authority of a title alone, they should run over me,” replied Gail. “While I don’t want to mess up my prestige options, I also don’t want them growing up and believing that ‘there has always been an Anar Queen, so it must continue''. I claimed the title to open the tower, not to rule for an aeon.”
Smiling at her, Amdirlain reached up to rub her ears. “You took the job on; do it properly. Who knows, do a good enough job and Gideon might give you something extra special.”
“That’s a while off; it’ll be years before the first Anar is an adult ready to leave home,” replied Gail, and she tilted her head so Amdirlain could stroke her ears easier. “I need to push myself. By helping create these demi-plane seeds, I wonder if my Solar Emissary will consider it a good deed. Otherwise, I’m just levelling two classes.”
Amdirlain nodded. “Keeping classes lined up can be a headache; if only you had Profile Mastery.”
Shaking her head vigorously, Gail grumbled. “Don’t. I don’t want to know the numbers. I only want a good Prestige Class so I can do my best to help others.”
“I think your idea about living how you’re happy is the most important one,” replied Amdirlain.
“Yeah, but you’re pushing yourself to help others. How can I ignore all of that responsibility?” questioned Gail. “If you’d had a few strong Anar and Lóm? choirs, would you have needed to park that Eldritch upon that dead world?”
“No,” admitted Amdirlain. "We could have sealed it up and stuck it in the Abyss.”
Gail nodded. “I’m still not wanting to know the numbers because I feel they’d take some of my joy away. When I earn some Prestige classes, and if I like several of them, I’ll get you to tell me which is the strongest.”
“I can do that for you,” agreed Amdirlain.
Leaning down, Gail hugged Amdirlain.
When Gail stepped back, Isa took her place and quickly enfolded Amdirlain in a warm hug. “We’ll leave you to apply some arse kicking to the Matriarch.”
Amdirlain smiled. “It will be subtle; she might not even notice.”
Shaking her head, Isa laughed. “Oh brother, I’d almost feel sorry for her, except she sent a hit squad. Take it easy, and don’t get too many caught in the explosions.”
“I won’t blow anything up, and what will happen is your idea,” huffed Amdirlain.
Isa clapped. “You going to do an alien abduction? No wonder it might be subtle; you’re following my idea.”
“Shoo you,” grumbled Amdirlain. “I’ve still got many things to sort out, so I’ll take credit for those parts of the cunning plan.”
“I’ll get working on these crystals immediately,” Isa advised and stepped back. “Those will press my abilities forward.”
Having shed his Catfolk disguise, Roher gave her a smile and bow of respect. “Thank you for everything you’ve done.”
“You’re welcome. I’m glad I returned to set things right,” said Amdirlain.
“I wish you all the best on Redemption’s Path, and if there are any other projects on this world or another that you need a hand with, let me know,” offered Roher.
Returning his bow, Amdirlain stepped closer and touched his shoulder reassuringly. “Thank you. I’m likely going to be in touch. I’ve been trying to let friends help.”
“I’m honoured to have such a title. Though I have one question,” Roher said, and he grinned. “Nothing relating to Orhêthurin.”
Amdirlain smiled. “What would you like to know?”
“What will you do with so much True Song Crystal to the north of here?” asked Roher.
“It’ll have to stay there. If I shift it away, the foundation of the campus might drop slightly,” replied Amdirlain. ”I wanted to ensure no one got injured during the extraction. I went a little overboard. Why?”
Roher laughed. “I wondered if you had anything planned, given how much energy you have stored in it.”
Opening her mouth to protest, Amdirlain quickly shut it.
Sarah snickered. “I won’t tell you how little time it took her to put it in place.”
“We could have done something nastier to Moloch with it,” said Roher.
“Nasty, besides taking his toys away from him?” asked Amdirlain.
“We didn’t take the stalker from Moloch. As Isa informed you, we shielded the soul’s memories and put a sympathetic effect in place,” Roher said. “If Moloch has a memory in mind that he wants more information about, it and everything related to it will get sequestered when he touches him mentally. He’ll return to square one in no time, thinking he hasn’t seen the damned’s memories yet.”
“Only works because he opens his mind to them?” enquired Amdirlain.
“It makes it a lot easier,” acknowledged Roher. “Take care.”
When Amdirlain returned the farewell, the three of them vanished, and Amdirlain breathed a sigh of relief as an edge of tension lifted. “That went better than I had expected.”
“You’re such a pessimist. You were looking like the world might end. I was ready to kill him if he hurt you,” stated Sarah.
“I hope you’re joking,” grumbled Amdirlain.
Holding up two fingers, Sarah held them slightly apart. “Only partly because I know he’s likely got a bunch of protections in place.”
“He does,” agreed Amdirlain, and she checked the Class she intended to review before being distracted by their arrival.
[Alind?
This Tier Seven Prestige Class merges Ostim? and Ont?lin
It is one of the stepping stones towards gaining the legacy of your power.
Requires:
- Orhêthurin’s Soul
- Senior Master in True Song Genesis
- Senior Master in Resonance
- Senior Master in True Song Architecture
- Senior Master in a Dance Skill, or a Power or Skill where it is a subset
- Senior Master in a combat Skill
Powers unlocked for acquisition:
- True Song Genesis evolutions
- Resonance evolutions
- World Step (Group)
- Realm Step (Locked due to Fallen State)
Skills unlocked for acquisition:
- True Song Architecture evolutions
+10 Melee Attack Power per level
+10 Defence per level
+10 Intelligence per level
+10 Charisma per level
+30 Endurance per level
+30 Magic per level
Note: Torm’s Soul is still settling post-purification, but it’s looking promising.
Note: I thought you should know since Custodian chimed in.
Note: I’d say you’re doing well, but that would be a lie.]
Sharing the details with Sarah brought a low whistle. “What’s on offer if you get to Grand Master rank in all those?”
“Yeah, I was thinking I’ll need to push the lot to Grand Master to get whatever is better,” agreed Amdirlain. “Orhêthurin wouldn’t have had this one. I think Gideon keeps playing me. He knows I was expecting to see an elven name. Two things she went gooey over: elves and dragons.”
“Good taste in half of her preferences isn’t too bad,” chuffed Sarah.
Amdirlain snorted. “Yeah, true. She put up with dragons. I bet he held off naming any Prestige Class with an elven name until I got closer to the strength I needed. She would have had something else that translated the equivalence of four True Song classes.”
Sarah frowned. “Or was he trying to set it up to give you that Realm Step option?”
“Fallen state,” noted Amdirlain. “Won’t be getting that.”
“Isa gave me the heads up about your concern. You numbskull,” grumbled Sarah. “Worrying about whether you’ll die and not telling me.”
“After being in Hell, you’d think she’d have learnt to keep a few secrets,” Amdirlain huffed.
Sarah scowled. “Communication is a thing. I’ll leave it at that. Anyway, I’m pretty sure Gideon just told you that won’t be happening.”
“He’s told me the situation with Torm. He confirmed nothing about mine. If I end up in the Titan’s forge after shedding my Fallen state, it would be nice if he could reincarnate us somewhere close.”
“Yeah, good luck finding a parent for the weight of your Soul according to the realm’s rules,” grumbled Sarah. “I’ll just have to go get Ebusuku into the Primordial leagues so Farhad can get her knocked up again. Torm’s likely coming back as a Human, so that won’t work well. Maybe Gideon can drop me some clues, and I’ll set Cyrus on him to indoctrinate him as a Monk. You know, while you’re getting out of the diaper stage as an Anar of whatever species they fake you resurrecting in, he can become an Immortal.”
Amdirlain reached out and rubbed Sarah’s ears. “Hasn’t happened yet. Let’s see what we can do in the meantime.”
“Right, what you got planned?” agreed Sarah.
Amdirlain moved to her usual couch and sprawled out. Staring at the ceiling, she tapped her tail against the cushion. “The Matriarch’s got a country of around fifty-six million. She keeps a larger percentage of the population in the military than neighbouring countries. That’s what allows her to secure gods’ graves and handle the conquests she did in the last four years.”
“You know you can’t just offer them a way out. They’ll likely expect it to be a trap looking for dissidents,” said Sarah.
Nodding, Amdirlain huffed. “We need to know if it’s just indoctrination that lets her hold on to the country or full-on mind control. Ssa’time said enough that I think it’s all North Korea-style propaganda. Though it could be mind control of a key group and propaganda for the rest.”
“That’s easy to figure out if they suck at psionic protections as much as the Allied Territories do,” replied Sarah. “I’ll go peek under a few hoods and let you know. If I help free that many people from an arsehole, do you think that will count as a Tier 7? I mean, I could do with one.”
“Do you need to get busy with your levelling?” asked Amdirlain.
Sarah shrugged. “Let me make more stuff for the new training complexes instead of duplicating it all, and I’ll be fine.”
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
Tilting her head, Amdirlain almost asked about Sarah’s other classes. “Profile Mastery for the win?”
“It lets me tip Artificer experience into other classes,” grinned Sarah.
“My experience is racing upwards because the amount from the new biome demi-planes is massively higher. Yet I had to set up one that included a level fifty monster spawn zone to get True Song Genesis to tip into Senior Master.“
Sarah huffed. “How much higher?”
“Factor of ten,” advised Amdirlain.
“Maybe you should run through Gideon’s hit list instead of creating those biomes? Just go back to creating the simple ones where the Plane’s rules control the habitat,” advised Sarah. “Then use Gideon’s work orders to push the Power to Grand Master. What are you going to do about Resonance? You were levelling it with the Eldritch migraine to the north. Have you progressed it since?”
“It’s already in Grand Master,” noted Amdirlain.
Sarah frowned. “Roher has an evolution of it, and that Prestige Class mentions them. The higher you get it, the more likely you’ll be able to tell when you’ve got things properly concealed.”
“Alright, I’ll give you that. I’ll try pushing out the range and keeping it under strain,” replied Amdirlain. “Now, to see about getting Dance to Grand Master because I’ll bet that is needed since it’s on the list for this one.”
“Sell dance hall tickets?” asked Sarah. “I’m sure some people would love to try to spin you around a dance floor.”
“Thanks,” drawled Amdirlain. “I would appreciate some real tips.”
“It won’t just be about the precision of your dancing. It might seem like repeating the exact motion precisely every time to the same music would be the route to mastery, but it’s not. You need to embrace the music and let it flow through you while you’re dancing, enjoying its beauty,” advised Sarah.
* * * * *
Amdirlain appeared outside the Matriarch’s capital and extended Resonance to sweep across its boundary. The fear and mistrust that Ssa’time had spoken about was rampant, but significant areas of the capital were also content with their lot. The fact they suffered none of the fear couldn’t have been because they were members of a specific bloodline. Right? Listening to the songs, Amdirlain found a low-level Wizard whose song wasn’t from the bloodline and slipped delicately into their mind.
Within their dreaming recollections, she traced their thoughts. Years of going without were replaced by—to them—an unparalleled luxury when their Affinity had been achieved. Taken from their family in their impressionable teenage years, the Matriarch’s commander provided them with a new name and their pride affiliation was set aside as the source of their suffering. Communication with their family was blocked entirely, and all contact with even the Matriarch’s news services was carefully controlled.
They entered the Academy grounds where the first ‘available’ spot was made for them, far from home. The training in the Academy required absolute obedience to the methods being taught. While ‘deviant’ behaviour was crushed out through deprivation—food, sleep, and even social contact with their classmates. Those adhering to the ‘proper’ process were love bombed, as praise and energetic displays of affection were lavished upon them by the class assistants whose sole purpose was tending to those who were compliant.
The social nature of the Catfolk amplified the effectiveness of the tactics Amdirlain recognised from Human cults. They combined the bombardment of their new entitlement with an insidious belittlement of those outside their new circle. Combined with the implication that while others wanted to steal their rights away, the Matriarch knew they were worthy. What they had suffered in their younger years was placed squarely at the feet of others who could not accept their own clear unworthiness. They used many tricks, one of which was presenting fake evidence that the parents were preventing the new student from taking the test. The authorities had to intervene to rescue them, and give them the treatment they deserved.
Cult indoctrination 101, check.
Her investigations found that artificers, alchemists and other magical professions received similar indoctrination processes. All the critical components of protecting the people from the undead were in the hands of those broken by the brainwashing. The improvements in their Intelligence was guided into rigorous and unyielding mental patterns that upheld the infallibility of their leaders.
Going straight to the top was difficult because of the sprawling size of the palace grounds and the vast layers of wards around them. The amount of resources dedicated in isolation were spectacular, with not one but two Mana generators within the palace wards without outbound connections to the nearest city. The city of Osaphis, with over two million people, was maintained with four generators and payment injections from citizens able to accumulate Mana.
Decisions, decisions.
Setting up my dungeon challenges is one thing; time to talk to a city architect, town planner, and some community planners. They’ll need access to all the various infrastructure elements, but also all the social components. Out from under the thumb of an authoritarian leadership, some arsehats might try to seize control.
With the magical training checked, she started sampling from further parts of the community. When Amdirlain returned to the apartment in the morning, she found Kadaklan puttering around in the kitchen. He was humming an off-key version of one of Amdirlain’s songs while cheerfully enduring Sarah’s heckling.
“Keep up that torment, and I’ll have to get Jal’krin to compose something about a burning bird getting plucked,” grumbled Sarah.
Kadaklan snorted. “That would equally apply to Am, who has now returned. Good morning, Am.”
“Are you children squabbling?” asked Amdirlain, and she headed into the kitchen.
Giving Amdirlain a haughty look, Sarah lifted her chin imperiously. “I’ll remind you I was reincarnated before you this time.”
“Not if I count it from when you gained your Dragon species,” rebuffed Amdirlain.
“Technically, I still had a Dragon bloodline in me since I came from her egg,” argued Sarah.
Wrinkling her nose, Amdirlain plucked a cup from the tray and poured herself some of the local tea Kadaklan had finished serving himself.
“You look like you’ve bitten into something sour,” observed Kadaklan. “Did the investigations not go well?”
“I would have preferred a very different situation, and I don’t want to uproot a whole country,” replied Amdirlain. “Many of the military, like Ssa’time told me, are just trying to live a life, but even they’re brainwashed to a certain extent as part of their military training. Those that keep their individuality are the rare exception.”
“You would have preferred,” repeated Kadaklan. “Meaning that uprooting them will occur.”
“I’m thinking I’ll set up places and just take some things wholesale, leave the Matriarch with massive empty stretches where there was once farmland.”
“Would not the military attack something in desperation?” asked Kadaklan. “Sometimes, instead of moving the flock, it is best to move the wolf.”
“The problem is their key magical personnel have been brainwashed on the infallibility of their leadership. They’re not people that can easily be replaced; they’re needed to maintain the defences against the undead.”
Sarah hummed. “What came first, the Phoenix or the egg?”
“The South Wind breathed life into rocks from a volcano, and the first Mortal phoenixes were birthed from those eggs.”
“Okay, so much for that attempt to maul a philosophical argument,” laughed Sarah.
“And you know the Dragon also came before the egg,” observed Kadaklan. “More of the desert fruit was delivered yesterday afternoon, Am. Though I put it in the ice chest, it’s the last for the season.”
“You’ll get her dripping on the floor again,” quipped Sarah, with a suggestive lilt in her tone.
Kadaklan gave a forlorn sigh. “I’m so misunderstood.”
Snorting, Sarah waved to the ice chest. “You know she can hear the fruit is there, right?”
“Am can hear the fruit in every building for kilometres, why does that matter? Manners and small talk help bind people together,” observed Kadaklan.
“Hatchlings,” huffed Amdirlain, and she teleported the ripest fruit to her hand.
Kadaklan and Sarah looked at each other and shrugged.
“We both at least once resembled that remark,” agreed Kadaklan. “You have two problems, both with possibly destructive consequences. You can rescue the innocent civilians and likely cause the military to launch a full scale attack against whatever target the Matriarch points them at. . .”
“Or you can sweep the wizards away, but they’re likely to be back if they can get past the Dem’-planes locks,” proposed Sarah.
“Or I can remove them both and put the Matriarch, wizards, and the strongly obedient military in a demi-plane that doesn’t allow exit gates,” countered Amdirlain. “But with a self-sufficient biome, so if they starve, it’s because they didn’t play nice with each other. Then sort out the society issues with the civilians and get them self-sufficient with magical training before returning them.”
“Leaving a massive swathe of countryside empty in the meantime,” noted Kadaklan. “Also, how long do you expect getting them back to being self-sufficient to take? It might just be safer to send them somewhere else.”
Sarah nodded. “At which point we should likely leave because her vanishing after you started taking swings at her will raise all sorts of red flags.”
“Yeah, but planning this isn’t going to happen overnight,” countered Amdirlain. “So Am can keep taking musical swings at her; we’ll just start overriding some of their news stations with the truth. Also, I’ll steal all the recent wizards she’s started to brainwash before their machinery screws their minds completely. I could retrieve their separated families as well.”
“From one rescue mission to the next,” said Kadaklan.
“I’m not that bad,” protested Amdirlain.
Sarah and Kadaklan looked at each other and laughed.
“Who said it’s a bad thing?” asked Kadaklan. "It just seems part of your Way.”
Nodding, Sarah reached out and rubbed Amdirlain’s ears. “Now eat your fruit; you''re dripping in front of me.”
“You wish,” grumbled Amdirlain.
“Depends on what and where you’re dripping,” riposted Sarah.
“You’ll corrupt innocent minds,” noted Kadaklan.
Amdirlain laughed. “I don’t think any of us qualify.”
Kadaklan went back to drinking his tea.
Hooking a chair from the table, Amdirlain sat to enjoy her snack, and Sarah floated a plate to her spot.
“The retired military personnel,” Sarah said after a few moments. “Lots of planning.”
“I’ll do some baby steps just to mess with her and then see how it goes,” replied Amdirlain. “But yes, I’ll talk to someone specialised and figure out all the logistics and options.”
“Time to unleash the J.”
“Well, they’re not cooperating with Mor’lmes’ inquiries about the books,” observed Amdirlain. “And Mor’lmes has been trying to get information about them for months.”
* * * * *
It was late morning when a silver-furred Catfolk carrying a bright yellow backpack walked into Mor’lmes’ office. A student had just departed and Mor’lmes’ attention was fixed on some paperwork before him. “Professor, I have a problem; maybe you can help me review it?”
Mor’lmes started to answer without looking up. “My office hours-” Cutting off, Mor’lmes looked up at Amdirlain. “J.”
“Mor’lmes,” chirped Amdirlain.
“How are your other projects going?"
“Pretty good. I’ll be opening more complexes shortly. I saw a discussion panel about them yesterday, speaking nicely and everything,” replied Amdirlain. “But this morning, I heard about the fatalities at the studio. Is Wha’sin okay?”
“No one inside was seriously injured; a security guard received some burns, but he’s been healed.”
“I think you mean no one inside who was welcome. Some are pretty dead Matriarch agents,” replied Amdirlain.
Mor’lmes shrugged. “Do they count?”
“If you were related to them, they’d count,” noted Amdirlain.
“They cut their families off, I’ve been told, as part of the conditions for receiving training. Only those that swear to the Matriarch get the chance to try,” replied Mor’lmes.
Amdirlain shook her head. “Their magical academies make that arrangement; the kids are never allowed to talk to their families again after they arrive. Told all sorts of lies, kept isolated and alone except among a group that follows the rules, it makes feeding them the story the Matriarch wants them to believe easier.”
Closing the book he’d been reviewing, Mor’lmes set it aside. “What can I help you with?”
“With the Matriarch’s agents not providing information about the shipping, have we gotten anywhere further?”
Sighing, Mor’lmes shook his head. “No. Complete blackout, and we’ve not established unofficial channels that have proven helpful.”
“I’m going to take the Matriarch’s rulership apart,” said Amdirlain.
Mor’lmes blinked. “Just like that?”
“No, but I figured I’d pull the dressing off and let you get over the mental barrier before we got into details,” allowed Amdirlain.
“How very kind of you,” drawled Mor’lmes, brushing his fingers across his voice box. “At least this time, the dressing isn’t coming out of me with other things.”
“Well, if you’ve missed your prosthetic that much. . .” quipped Amdirlain.
“It’s fine; you can keep it,” reassured Mor’lmes. “I assume you need something.”
“I’m not expecting you to help. I’ll run you through the big picture and have you point me towards suitable people for the pieces, and I’ll work with them,” advised Amdirlain.
“Did you close the outer office door?”
“Your assistant shut it on her way out,” replied Amdirlain.
“I’ll listen, but I’m more academic,” cautioned Mor’lmes.
“I’d been planning the Matriarch’s training complexes and was already concerned. After last night''s events, my investigations have led me to believe I can’t safely put a complex in place for them with their current government in charge. I will give the people she effectively holds captive a place to live in a demi-plane if they want it. I''ve got some ideas, but I need city and social planners to guide me. Things like housing density, roads, law keepers stations, hospitals, schools, and the rest they need to let their society function.”
“Just that?”
“Well, for the military folks, I might have to spread them out into small tribal-sized groups with plentiful food and leave them to it. It’s the civilians that I’m more worried about; also, I’ll need to find placements for a few hundred novice wizards, some potentially already traumatised.“
Coughing, Mor’lmes sat back. “You come in and drop a lot on someone. I can likely plan for the placements, but I don’t know who to speak to about the rest or how to approach them.”
“Got a faculty index of professors?” asked Amdirlain.
Mor’lmes pulled up a display on a nearby screen. “I don’t keep it printed.”
“If you’ve got a spare data plate, I’ll make you a replacement. I’ll have someone contact them about a hypothetical paper to write.”
Mor’lmes frowned at her. “How would you even propose such a problem?”
“In a massive disaster, what infrastructure and social elements would be required to get a city operational again from scratch? A purely abstract concept won’t get me an entirely practical answer, but it might be a usable start,” stated Amdirlain.
“Oh.”
“Now, about the placements,” started Amdirlain.
* * * * *
After sorting out the initial arrangements, Amdirlain shifted to one of the empty demi-planes for her next recruitment drive.
“Lerina, I thought I’d come through official channels. Got an Avatar available to come and chat?”
When Ebusuku appeared, she was in a Catfolk form with calico fur, and she smiled down at Amdirlain from her two-metre height. “You look cute as a Catfolk.”
Clad in leather armour, she had dozens of dimensional sheaths about her person.
“Is everyone having fun with the height?”
“Livia might have mentioned you picked a form with a height just slightly taller than her,” reported Ebusuku.
“It wasn’t intentional, I just went for a teenage form,” grumbled Amdirlain.
Leaning down, Eubusku touched her forehead to Amdirlain’s. “We miss you.”
“Are you doing okay?”
Ebusuku laughed. “Pretty sure that’s my question to ask you. I’m the one who ended up being the caretaker for your Mantle. While your Mantle isn’t a dreadful burden, I’ll happily return the Mantle when you’re no longer a Fallen.”
“Let’s see how things play out,” replied Amdirlain. “Bit worried about that at present.”
“There isn’t a rush,” said Ebusuku. “Though, so you know, the official channel involves going to a Temple, making offerings to a Priest, and having them pray.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” drawled Amdirlain. “You want me to do that now?”
“It’s okay. I’m here now, so I’ll cut you some slack,” replied Ebusuku with a smile. “Just this once, mind you.”
“I’ll need some resources to keep the peace among civilians while their society gets off to a fresh start,” explained Amdirlain. “However, we can’t let them figure out there are any divine forces at work.”
“Why don’t you tell me more?”
Ebusuku listened through all the details and smugly nodded. “Alright, but I’ll need help with something as well.”
“What’s that?” asked Amdirlain suspiciously.
“Shouldn’t you be checking in on the Qil Tris dwarves and doing so discretely?” questioned Ebusuku, her tail swishing happily.
“You just want to win that bet,” replied Amdirlain.
“Absolutely.”
Letting out a prolonged groan, Amdirlain gave in. “Fine.”
Ebusuku chuffed. “Excellent. Now, he’ll owe me a favour. Will you use this demi-plane to host the civilians?”
“I’ll let you know.”
“Get more details through to me when you have them. I’ll make sure anyone involved in the civilian peacekeeping can be subtle,” replied Ebusuku.
“Gail’s spoken to you already?”
“Oh, yeah.” Ebusuku laughed, and she rubbed Amdirlain’s ears. “She’s right; your ears are so cute.”
“I sent your grandmother a toy to isolate if Balnérith’s on a Plane and a way to contact me,” reported Amdirlain, blatantly avoiding that topic.
The amusement drained from Ebusuku’s face. “Amdirlain, she is not to be taken lightly.”
Amdirlain nodded earnestly. “Very wary of her; I took a message-drop approach. She now has a crystal that can send messages to a memory crystal I keep on a small demi-plane that I don’t enter. Just wanted to let you know I got a message the other day that was for you.”
“Never act on anything she sends you directly or indirectly. She loves fighting, but she’s also a huntress. She’ll be looking to get you to react to track you as well.”
“She loves anything that sends things to her father. She said to pass you a message that your mother is on ice until she grows up. Also, to thank you for your efforts during her captivity.”
Ebusuku paused. “I thought for sure she’d destroy her.”
“She left a lingering wound in Balnérith before taking her pal captive. Do you know why someone in charge of Hell would want Castellan over Balnérith delivered?”
“I don’t know. Try to keep your curiosity in check, kitty cat,” said Ebusuku, touching a finger to the end of Amdirlain’s nose.
Amdirlain nodded. “I’ll save it. I’m never going to know everything.”
“Now, about your visit to the dwarves. . .”
“I’ve let Sarah take the research lead on them previously. We’ll take a trip, and I’ll hold her toolbox.”
Ebusuku’s lip twitched.
“Not that toolbox, thank you,” huffed Amdirlain.