Theater of War, page 15
Combat Abilities: (Greater) Invisibility, Remote Senses, Supernatural Speed, (All) Terrain Navigation, Immunity to all poisons, toxins, curses, diseases, and mind-influencing effects, including illusions, Perfect Recall, Gift of Foresight
His jaw cracked at Meredith’s abilities list. It was so unexpected and interesting that he couldn’t begin to fathom how she’d grown into such a skill set. “How did you get immune to all that stuff?”
Meredith shrugged, the motion doing interesting things to her anatomy. “A ritual. An expensive one. Should keep me young, too.” She grinned at him wryly, as if daring him to ask more about the ritual. Like maybe, whether her looks resulted from it.
He was about to ask when Bill cut in, “Ty, how are you only level three?”
Practically growling, Ty replied, “Should be four, but my god wants me to complete a local quest first. I’m on a milestone leveling track. It sucks.”
“Oh yeah,” Bill said with a chuckle, “Milestone-based leveling is objectively the worst. And Merit Hunter? My Arbiter tells me that most gods give that class to their scions as a punishment. You seem built like a bit of a Combat Druid, or maybe an Ancient Path guy, or maybe um… I honestly don’t know what. All over the place?”
Ty fumed. “I’m not a Combat Druid.”
“Also,” Bill continued, “What the hell is a Body Shaper? My Arbiter won’t tell me. Says he doesn’t know.”
“Eh, I don’t want to go into details,” Ty hedged. “It’s all rituals, though, so nothing actually useful in combat.” As soon as he was level eight, he’d make sure that detail was obscured forever. He couldn’t have things showing on his character sheet that would freak Arbiters out.
Meredith watched the interaction with a small, amused smile, shaking her head at Ty’s refutation of his druid status. “What’s wrong with being a druid, Ty? Don’t want to protect nature?”
“It’s not that,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and dropping his chin. “It’s just that druids are all, I don’t know, hippy dippy. Or they transform into beasts. Or they use spells that are utterly useless outside natural spaces. None of it is optimal.”
Bill snorted. “If you were trying to min-max your build, you sure went the wrong way. I, on the other hand, am a total power gamer.” He lifted an arm and flexed. The man was in shape, although not bulky. “If only I could have become a Strength Mage. Apparently, that class is highly restricted.”
“Did you say Strength Mage?” Meredith asked skeptically.
“Mhm. It’s like, you tie your ability to affect reality into your physical body. The stronger you get, the more muscle mass, the more powerful you are. In theory, one could intimidate someone’s heart into exploding.”
Ty rolled his eyes. “You’re completely making that up. It sounds homebrew and theoretical, at best.”
“Maybe,” Bill admitted with a grin. “But I bet you could build abilities that do that. Since you get to customize everything.”
“If I could go back and customize all of my abilities,” Meredith mused, trailing off at the possibilities.
“Okay, fine. Stop it. I went with the cards I was given,” Ty huffed. He did not like being poked fun at, nor did he enjoy being the weakest person in their party. The akkoans he’d resurrected had made him feel the same way. Then again, the akkoans were insane. Maybe that balanced things out a bit.
I hope Mildred can help them, Ty thought.
Hagemi started to reply, then froze. A new voice, deep and sepulchral, echoed from the Arbiter. It was the first time Ty had heard from Seeker in a while. There are more Mind Fortresses in Sanctuary, Ty. Come find them. I miss our talks.
He dared not reply. The touch of the old god was a secret, one that could paint an even bigger target on his back. Sighing, he waved his hands in defeat. “Okay you two, you got me. I’m going to go, have a good meal, and see if I can’t solve this side quest. I’ll see you both first thing in the morning, okay?”
Grinning, Bill waved Meredith to lead the way and, with a knowing wink at Ty, followed the lovely woman.
Ty said his goodbyes to Zeta and left for the hotel. Walking through the crowded streets, he thought about the two scions. Meredith’s beauty made him decidedly uncomfortable. He wasn’t equipped to process how looking at her made him feel. She looked like something out of a perfect dream, an idealized perfection nearly too good to be true. He didn’t trust that. Nor did he like how relaxed Bill had made him. The two reminded Ty of his old online gaming group on Earth, men and women he’d honestly enjoyed spending time with.
All of that would have been fine if he’d known either of them for longer than a few minutes.
The problem with people was they wouldn’t go in a box. He couldn’t draw labels around them and know for a fact that they’d behave the way he expected. Worst of all were people’s eyes. He hated how vulnerable he felt making eye contact, how naked his soul was. The problem was, he knew his body and mind were changing. He yearned for things, craved them. Those changes didn’t make him any less uncomfortable, they just introduced complexity he wasn’t equipped to handle.
Part of him wanted to hang out with Bill and Meredith, to see her smiles and hear his southern drawl. Mildred had been a great therapist, but she hadn’t precisely been a peer or a friend, not to him. Maybe to Blaire.
The Royal Sign was a serviceable hotel with an intimate dining area. The food was spiced to flavor, and his akkoan tastebuds reveled in the customized dishes the staff offered. Ty purchased a room and retired early. The change in day-night cycles had drained him, as had the emotional pitch of the day, and he wanted a few hours to make notes and plan.
Before laying down, he used his mana to activate four of his bullets with Celestially aligned mana. Now that he was on Volar, with his magic regenerating a little over two mana an hour, it wouldn’t take long for him to get an entire magazine charged.
He went to bed early that night, surrounded by notes. Consumed by thoughts of a beautiful woman, he didn’t notice the unnatural heaviness in his body until he was already falling asleep.
Chapter 15: Captive
Days Remaining in Cycle: 43
Remaining Undesignated Allies: 19
Ty woke in darkness, his eyes covered. Rope wound around his arms, radiating raw magical power. It was one of his first interactions with magic that didn’t have some divine flavor to it. To his senses, it was less potent, less energized than the Divine variations.
A chat prompt from Hagemi blipped in his vision. Meredith had sent him a message. Ty, I see you’re moving to a strange location. There’s a spell up blocking the exact place. Reply soon or I’ll be burning the city down.
Ty replied, I’m fine. Stand by.
“So, you’re awake, are you?” A hand snatched the blindfold from Ty’s face, revealing Latrell’s greasy visage. He was still hunched, wearing the clothes from earlier, and fresh malice was palpable in his glaring gaze. Three big men stood behind him, arms crossed near swords.
“Mhm,” Ty said, glancing around groggily. They were in a small room, maybe a cellar. There was one exit behind the goons.
The man snarled, thrusting his fist under Ty’s nose. “Cleozun owes me a lot, and you’re going to pay it back, or else!”
Ty blinked at Latrell, looking from his fist to his face. “Of course I am. Just tell me what you need, and we’ll get it taken care of.”
Latrell’s mouth worked. “What, really? Just like that?”
“Mhm. What happened with her, anyway? You said she doesn’t owe anything. How does she owe you?”
Latrell took a couple of steps back, leaning against the only door to the cramped room. He looked dejected, like someone had stolen his favorite fruit. Or maybe stopped him from kicking a kitten. “Well, you see, she needed Lambent Mushrooms. They grow north of here, in the deep caves. It’s well known that they stabilize all sorts of magical rituals, keeping various bits from interacting badly, ya know? Well, she also wanted the spoors of those mushrooms, which are much more expensive. I told her if she’d do me a favor, I’d handle everything for her. I did, and she never returned to pay her debt to me. From what I hear, she did the same to a few other big named people. We’re talking undead warlock demigods and Sin Djinn and such.”
Oh, Cleozun what loads of shit have you gotten me into? He figured she’d been looking for components to her reshaping ritual, the one that would give his akkoan allies their original bodies back. But why would she deliberately piss off so many locals?
Focusing back on the discussion at hand, he tried to shrug. “Okay, so why you? What’s your skin in this game?”
One of Latrell’s goons chuckled. “Stupid man, everyone knows the spoors are restricted to this area. Only the Guild even gets to look at them. Illegal, that is.”
Latrell hit the thug. “Shut up, you. What did I say about opening your mouth around strangers?”
Rubbing his arm, the thug waved at Ty. “He seems an honest sort. Trustworthy. Besides, how’s he going to tell anyone anything, boss?”
Latrell hit him again. He turned back to Ty. “Anyway, I went out of my way for her, because she knew some spells that aren’t… well, shall we say, natural. I could have made a fortune selling any of them.”
“Sorry, I don’t know anything about that.” Ty figured he actually did, with his Body Shaper rituals, but he wasn’t about to tell this guy. Latrell had ‘gang boss goon’ written all over his every slippery utterance.
“That’s okay, friend. You can still help me. You see, when that old woman scion came through and helped clean out the Monster god’s infiltrators, a whole bunch of them fled. I have it on good authority that one of the fleeing people took a crate with them. A crate with a legendary magical item in it. Get that object for me and we’re even. No more issues.”
“A fetch quest, really?” Ty hated fetch quests almost as much as kill-count quests.
His tone froze Latrell in place, the man’s dark eyes dancing from side to side, repeating his words. “Well, yes. You’re going on a quest for me. And it’s to fetch something. I fail to see the humor in that.”
“I guess it actually makes sense, in this context,” Ty allowed. “Alright, I’ll go north and get your crate. How will I know it? Will it glow or something like that?”
“Hrm. Good point. I can help with this.” Latrell reached into a pocket and withdrew a necklace. It was unadorned silver, save for the small jewel attached to the middle. “This little device,” he tapped the jewel, “will hold a location spell. I’ll cast it. It’ll work on anything of legendary-level power in a hundred-foot radius. The object I’m looking for is a glass orb, covered in ancient script. You won’t be able to read it, so don’t try. Understood?”
“Sure. Cast your spell. Also, will you let me up now? I’m not going to try anything.”
Talkative Thug chuckled. “Like you could. Level three, Merit Hunter. So lame. We’d turn you into paste.”
Did you translate that into level three, or did he actually say it? Ty asked Hagemi. The Arbiter usually helped with any of the languages he didn’t natively speak.
Translated. He actually said something far more derogatory.
Thanks.
Latrell turned his back to the room to whisper his spell. Ty felt an impressive spike of mana in the air, giving him a hint about Latrell’s overall potential capabilities. That one spell had probably cost as much, or more, mana than he could hold at one time. Talkative Thug let him go, roughly jerking the rope from his hands and pulling him to his feet with enough force to nearly slam his head into the low ceiling.
How strong is that guy? To manhandle me like that?
Hagemi didn’t reply. Synthesis did.
Eighteen, maybe a bit higher. He’s mortal, which means either a permanent ritual, a magic item, or a temporary spell. He’s right-handed. The shape of the scars under his left eye are jagged, possibly from glass. He’s a brawler. We can kill him in two moves. Let me?
Ty froze. Let you?
You cannot, Hagemi barged in. This will not be allowed. Ty, if you want the Spirit Dominion powers over therapy-spirits, spend a minimum of twenty merits. Period. Hagemi addressed Synthesis. I am putting my foot down. I like you all, but you have to know I’ve sensed your plotting and planning behind my back. If it weren’t for Inspiration’s direct allowance, I’d have removed all of you from his mind already. None of you should exist, much less be in Ty’s mind. As his Arbiter, this is my last word. No more interference.
Numera started humming, whispering soothing words. Oddly, they were to Hagemi, not Synthesis. For his part, Synthesis radiated an odd flavor of triumph. What had the false spirit done that he was so proud about?
“Here,” Latrell said. Ty thought that maybe he’d said the word more than once. Ty took the offered amulet.
“It’ll only last for a few days,” Latrell warned. “Once the spell runs out, I’m coming for you.”
“Yeah!” Talkative said. “And you won’t like that.”
One of the other thugs snickered behind Talkative. “Merit hunter. What a joke. Who do you even train under to get that?”
“Losers, that’s who,” Talkative replied, sneering openly.
They put a bag over Ty’s head and led him from the room. Less than an hour later, he’d collected his notes, his gear, and was back in the Royal Sign’s dining room. The wait staff helpfully provided him with boiling water for his coffee, which he sipped until Bill and Meredith came wandering in.
Bill looked relaxed, casually chewing on a stem of something that looked a lot like wheat. Meredith glared at Ty fiercely.
“Never do that again,” she growled.
“Yeah,” Bill drawled, “don’t split the party, man.”
Chapter 16: It All Boils Down
Days Remaining in Cycle: 43
Remaining Undesignated Allies: 19
“You really think what that Guild guy wants, and the Celestials’ issues are related?” Bill asked, once Ty had told them what happened over coffee. Neither Bill nor Meredith had packed coffee, much to his smug pleasure.
They might be higher level, but he was clearly the superior planner.
“It’s gotta be, right?” Ty said. “North of the city, there are caves where special mushrooms grow. Magic ones. And based on one of my earlier quests, I believe that the Monster god is kidnapping the Celestials for some sort of blood experimentation. We all know that she’s somehow escaped the pact and is free to do what she wants. These things have to be linked.”
“Plus,” Meredith added, “Latrell told you her legions went north. It adds up nicely.”
“Not much coincidence when it comes to this god stuff,” Bill mused.
“One of my allies told me that Inspiration ‘talked’ to her through quests and achievements. It’s his way of bypassing some of the Resonance restrictions. I will bet a lot of the other gods do it, too.” Ty sighed. “If things keep progressing like this, in forty-three days we may have a full-on scion-on-scion war.”
“If not this cycle, then next,” Bill said, looking thoughtful.
Meredith sipped the coffee and made a strained face, putting it down. “This is awful. Also, who cares? This cycle or next. If the war comes, we kill our enemies until they stop breathing. That’s simple math.”
Bill and Ty both looked at Meredith. “I’m the Blood Witch, and I’m not that cutthroat,” Bill said.
“Speaking of which, what is a Blood Witch, Bill?”
“Pun intended, Ty?”
“I never pun. It’s not punny.” Ty cracked a grin. He’d said that joke at least a dozen times around the virtual tabletop. It never failed to get a ‘dad joke’ groan or two.
Meredith rolled her eyes, and Bill chuckled.
The Texan said, “A Blood Witch is a mage with access to ritual magic. We don’t actually specialize in blood, per se. We tap into the life essence inside any living being. It could be blood, sap, or whatever.”
“That doesn’t sound very useful in combat,” Meredith said. “Rituals are slow.”
Raising a hand, Bill wiggled his fingers, flashing his bejeweled rings. “I spent some merits to enhance my ability to use magical items. These little babies were hard won, but they let me do some nasty stuff. You see this one here?” He tapped one with a red gem. “I cast a ritual and target it, then the gem stores it and lets me cast it instantly.” He tapped on another ring. “This one is similar, but it changes something. A variable. Like range or energy types.”
Ty tried not to complain about his magical items all being locked away, along with over a full level of rewards, back at his home base. “I’m ready to go when you all are. Meredith, do you have any equipment to get? You’re a ranger, right? Don’t you need a bow?”
Meredith scrunched her nose. “Do I?” She looked between Bill and Ty. “Which one of you has seen a really skilled and amazing archer?”
“Do the movies count?” Bill asked.
“Um, sure.”
“I definitely have,” Bill said.
He and Ty exchanged a knowing look. Both were thinking of the same elf.
Meredith exhaled, closing her eyes. A moment later, she stood and extended her hand. A bow matching a traditional fantasy aesthetic materialized out of thin air, along with a quiver full of arrows.
“How in the world did you do that?” Ty asked. He could have sworn she was standing and holding herself differently. It was as if she’d been concealing the full extent of her ranger abilities until the bow had appeared.
She wrinkled her nose at him, eyes dancing prettily. “Magic, of course.”
Ty and Bill exchanged looks. “I’m so underpowered for this party,” Ty muttered.
“Yup,” Bill said.
They left the hotel and collected a few necessities before heading to the outpost. Zeta greeted them when they arrived.
Bill took the lead. “We’re going to head out and explore the desert. We believe the source of your issue is to the north. Do you want to send any of your people with us?”
His jaw cracked at Meredith’s abilities list. It was so unexpected and interesting that he couldn’t begin to fathom how she’d grown into such a skill set. “How did you get immune to all that stuff?”
Meredith shrugged, the motion doing interesting things to her anatomy. “A ritual. An expensive one. Should keep me young, too.” She grinned at him wryly, as if daring him to ask more about the ritual. Like maybe, whether her looks resulted from it.
He was about to ask when Bill cut in, “Ty, how are you only level three?”
Practically growling, Ty replied, “Should be four, but my god wants me to complete a local quest first. I’m on a milestone leveling track. It sucks.”
“Oh yeah,” Bill said with a chuckle, “Milestone-based leveling is objectively the worst. And Merit Hunter? My Arbiter tells me that most gods give that class to their scions as a punishment. You seem built like a bit of a Combat Druid, or maybe an Ancient Path guy, or maybe um… I honestly don’t know what. All over the place?”
Ty fumed. “I’m not a Combat Druid.”
“Also,” Bill continued, “What the hell is a Body Shaper? My Arbiter won’t tell me. Says he doesn’t know.”
“Eh, I don’t want to go into details,” Ty hedged. “It’s all rituals, though, so nothing actually useful in combat.” As soon as he was level eight, he’d make sure that detail was obscured forever. He couldn’t have things showing on his character sheet that would freak Arbiters out.
Meredith watched the interaction with a small, amused smile, shaking her head at Ty’s refutation of his druid status. “What’s wrong with being a druid, Ty? Don’t want to protect nature?”
“It’s not that,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and dropping his chin. “It’s just that druids are all, I don’t know, hippy dippy. Or they transform into beasts. Or they use spells that are utterly useless outside natural spaces. None of it is optimal.”
Bill snorted. “If you were trying to min-max your build, you sure went the wrong way. I, on the other hand, am a total power gamer.” He lifted an arm and flexed. The man was in shape, although not bulky. “If only I could have become a Strength Mage. Apparently, that class is highly restricted.”
“Did you say Strength Mage?” Meredith asked skeptically.
“Mhm. It’s like, you tie your ability to affect reality into your physical body. The stronger you get, the more muscle mass, the more powerful you are. In theory, one could intimidate someone’s heart into exploding.”
Ty rolled his eyes. “You’re completely making that up. It sounds homebrew and theoretical, at best.”
“Maybe,” Bill admitted with a grin. “But I bet you could build abilities that do that. Since you get to customize everything.”
“If I could go back and customize all of my abilities,” Meredith mused, trailing off at the possibilities.
“Okay, fine. Stop it. I went with the cards I was given,” Ty huffed. He did not like being poked fun at, nor did he enjoy being the weakest person in their party. The akkoans he’d resurrected had made him feel the same way. Then again, the akkoans were insane. Maybe that balanced things out a bit.
I hope Mildred can help them, Ty thought.
Hagemi started to reply, then froze. A new voice, deep and sepulchral, echoed from the Arbiter. It was the first time Ty had heard from Seeker in a while. There are more Mind Fortresses in Sanctuary, Ty. Come find them. I miss our talks.
He dared not reply. The touch of the old god was a secret, one that could paint an even bigger target on his back. Sighing, he waved his hands in defeat. “Okay you two, you got me. I’m going to go, have a good meal, and see if I can’t solve this side quest. I’ll see you both first thing in the morning, okay?”
Grinning, Bill waved Meredith to lead the way and, with a knowing wink at Ty, followed the lovely woman.
Ty said his goodbyes to Zeta and left for the hotel. Walking through the crowded streets, he thought about the two scions. Meredith’s beauty made him decidedly uncomfortable. He wasn’t equipped to process how looking at her made him feel. She looked like something out of a perfect dream, an idealized perfection nearly too good to be true. He didn’t trust that. Nor did he like how relaxed Bill had made him. The two reminded Ty of his old online gaming group on Earth, men and women he’d honestly enjoyed spending time with.
All of that would have been fine if he’d known either of them for longer than a few minutes.
The problem with people was they wouldn’t go in a box. He couldn’t draw labels around them and know for a fact that they’d behave the way he expected. Worst of all were people’s eyes. He hated how vulnerable he felt making eye contact, how naked his soul was. The problem was, he knew his body and mind were changing. He yearned for things, craved them. Those changes didn’t make him any less uncomfortable, they just introduced complexity he wasn’t equipped to handle.
Part of him wanted to hang out with Bill and Meredith, to see her smiles and hear his southern drawl. Mildred had been a great therapist, but she hadn’t precisely been a peer or a friend, not to him. Maybe to Blaire.
The Royal Sign was a serviceable hotel with an intimate dining area. The food was spiced to flavor, and his akkoan tastebuds reveled in the customized dishes the staff offered. Ty purchased a room and retired early. The change in day-night cycles had drained him, as had the emotional pitch of the day, and he wanted a few hours to make notes and plan.
Before laying down, he used his mana to activate four of his bullets with Celestially aligned mana. Now that he was on Volar, with his magic regenerating a little over two mana an hour, it wouldn’t take long for him to get an entire magazine charged.
He went to bed early that night, surrounded by notes. Consumed by thoughts of a beautiful woman, he didn’t notice the unnatural heaviness in his body until he was already falling asleep.
Chapter 15: Captive
Days Remaining in Cycle: 43
Remaining Undesignated Allies: 19
Ty woke in darkness, his eyes covered. Rope wound around his arms, radiating raw magical power. It was one of his first interactions with magic that didn’t have some divine flavor to it. To his senses, it was less potent, less energized than the Divine variations.
A chat prompt from Hagemi blipped in his vision. Meredith had sent him a message. Ty, I see you’re moving to a strange location. There’s a spell up blocking the exact place. Reply soon or I’ll be burning the city down.
Ty replied, I’m fine. Stand by.
“So, you’re awake, are you?” A hand snatched the blindfold from Ty’s face, revealing Latrell’s greasy visage. He was still hunched, wearing the clothes from earlier, and fresh malice was palpable in his glaring gaze. Three big men stood behind him, arms crossed near swords.
“Mhm,” Ty said, glancing around groggily. They were in a small room, maybe a cellar. There was one exit behind the goons.
The man snarled, thrusting his fist under Ty’s nose. “Cleozun owes me a lot, and you’re going to pay it back, or else!”
Ty blinked at Latrell, looking from his fist to his face. “Of course I am. Just tell me what you need, and we’ll get it taken care of.”
Latrell’s mouth worked. “What, really? Just like that?”
“Mhm. What happened with her, anyway? You said she doesn’t owe anything. How does she owe you?”
Latrell took a couple of steps back, leaning against the only door to the cramped room. He looked dejected, like someone had stolen his favorite fruit. Or maybe stopped him from kicking a kitten. “Well, you see, she needed Lambent Mushrooms. They grow north of here, in the deep caves. It’s well known that they stabilize all sorts of magical rituals, keeping various bits from interacting badly, ya know? Well, she also wanted the spoors of those mushrooms, which are much more expensive. I told her if she’d do me a favor, I’d handle everything for her. I did, and she never returned to pay her debt to me. From what I hear, she did the same to a few other big named people. We’re talking undead warlock demigods and Sin Djinn and such.”
Oh, Cleozun what loads of shit have you gotten me into? He figured she’d been looking for components to her reshaping ritual, the one that would give his akkoan allies their original bodies back. But why would she deliberately piss off so many locals?
Focusing back on the discussion at hand, he tried to shrug. “Okay, so why you? What’s your skin in this game?”
One of Latrell’s goons chuckled. “Stupid man, everyone knows the spoors are restricted to this area. Only the Guild even gets to look at them. Illegal, that is.”
Latrell hit the thug. “Shut up, you. What did I say about opening your mouth around strangers?”
Rubbing his arm, the thug waved at Ty. “He seems an honest sort. Trustworthy. Besides, how’s he going to tell anyone anything, boss?”
Latrell hit him again. He turned back to Ty. “Anyway, I went out of my way for her, because she knew some spells that aren’t… well, shall we say, natural. I could have made a fortune selling any of them.”
“Sorry, I don’t know anything about that.” Ty figured he actually did, with his Body Shaper rituals, but he wasn’t about to tell this guy. Latrell had ‘gang boss goon’ written all over his every slippery utterance.
“That’s okay, friend. You can still help me. You see, when that old woman scion came through and helped clean out the Monster god’s infiltrators, a whole bunch of them fled. I have it on good authority that one of the fleeing people took a crate with them. A crate with a legendary magical item in it. Get that object for me and we’re even. No more issues.”
“A fetch quest, really?” Ty hated fetch quests almost as much as kill-count quests.
His tone froze Latrell in place, the man’s dark eyes dancing from side to side, repeating his words. “Well, yes. You’re going on a quest for me. And it’s to fetch something. I fail to see the humor in that.”
“I guess it actually makes sense, in this context,” Ty allowed. “Alright, I’ll go north and get your crate. How will I know it? Will it glow or something like that?”
“Hrm. Good point. I can help with this.” Latrell reached into a pocket and withdrew a necklace. It was unadorned silver, save for the small jewel attached to the middle. “This little device,” he tapped the jewel, “will hold a location spell. I’ll cast it. It’ll work on anything of legendary-level power in a hundred-foot radius. The object I’m looking for is a glass orb, covered in ancient script. You won’t be able to read it, so don’t try. Understood?”
“Sure. Cast your spell. Also, will you let me up now? I’m not going to try anything.”
Talkative Thug chuckled. “Like you could. Level three, Merit Hunter. So lame. We’d turn you into paste.”
Did you translate that into level three, or did he actually say it? Ty asked Hagemi. The Arbiter usually helped with any of the languages he didn’t natively speak.
Translated. He actually said something far more derogatory.
Thanks.
Latrell turned his back to the room to whisper his spell. Ty felt an impressive spike of mana in the air, giving him a hint about Latrell’s overall potential capabilities. That one spell had probably cost as much, or more, mana than he could hold at one time. Talkative Thug let him go, roughly jerking the rope from his hands and pulling him to his feet with enough force to nearly slam his head into the low ceiling.
How strong is that guy? To manhandle me like that?
Hagemi didn’t reply. Synthesis did.
Eighteen, maybe a bit higher. He’s mortal, which means either a permanent ritual, a magic item, or a temporary spell. He’s right-handed. The shape of the scars under his left eye are jagged, possibly from glass. He’s a brawler. We can kill him in two moves. Let me?
Ty froze. Let you?
You cannot, Hagemi barged in. This will not be allowed. Ty, if you want the Spirit Dominion powers over therapy-spirits, spend a minimum of twenty merits. Period. Hagemi addressed Synthesis. I am putting my foot down. I like you all, but you have to know I’ve sensed your plotting and planning behind my back. If it weren’t for Inspiration’s direct allowance, I’d have removed all of you from his mind already. None of you should exist, much less be in Ty’s mind. As his Arbiter, this is my last word. No more interference.
Numera started humming, whispering soothing words. Oddly, they were to Hagemi, not Synthesis. For his part, Synthesis radiated an odd flavor of triumph. What had the false spirit done that he was so proud about?
“Here,” Latrell said. Ty thought that maybe he’d said the word more than once. Ty took the offered amulet.
“It’ll only last for a few days,” Latrell warned. “Once the spell runs out, I’m coming for you.”
“Yeah!” Talkative said. “And you won’t like that.”
One of the other thugs snickered behind Talkative. “Merit hunter. What a joke. Who do you even train under to get that?”
“Losers, that’s who,” Talkative replied, sneering openly.
They put a bag over Ty’s head and led him from the room. Less than an hour later, he’d collected his notes, his gear, and was back in the Royal Sign’s dining room. The wait staff helpfully provided him with boiling water for his coffee, which he sipped until Bill and Meredith came wandering in.
Bill looked relaxed, casually chewing on a stem of something that looked a lot like wheat. Meredith glared at Ty fiercely.
“Never do that again,” she growled.
“Yeah,” Bill drawled, “don’t split the party, man.”
Chapter 16: It All Boils Down
Days Remaining in Cycle: 43
Remaining Undesignated Allies: 19
“You really think what that Guild guy wants, and the Celestials’ issues are related?” Bill asked, once Ty had told them what happened over coffee. Neither Bill nor Meredith had packed coffee, much to his smug pleasure.
They might be higher level, but he was clearly the superior planner.
“It’s gotta be, right?” Ty said. “North of the city, there are caves where special mushrooms grow. Magic ones. And based on one of my earlier quests, I believe that the Monster god is kidnapping the Celestials for some sort of blood experimentation. We all know that she’s somehow escaped the pact and is free to do what she wants. These things have to be linked.”
“Plus,” Meredith added, “Latrell told you her legions went north. It adds up nicely.”
“Not much coincidence when it comes to this god stuff,” Bill mused.
“One of my allies told me that Inspiration ‘talked’ to her through quests and achievements. It’s his way of bypassing some of the Resonance restrictions. I will bet a lot of the other gods do it, too.” Ty sighed. “If things keep progressing like this, in forty-three days we may have a full-on scion-on-scion war.”
“If not this cycle, then next,” Bill said, looking thoughtful.
Meredith sipped the coffee and made a strained face, putting it down. “This is awful. Also, who cares? This cycle or next. If the war comes, we kill our enemies until they stop breathing. That’s simple math.”
Bill and Ty both looked at Meredith. “I’m the Blood Witch, and I’m not that cutthroat,” Bill said.
“Speaking of which, what is a Blood Witch, Bill?”
“Pun intended, Ty?”
“I never pun. It’s not punny.” Ty cracked a grin. He’d said that joke at least a dozen times around the virtual tabletop. It never failed to get a ‘dad joke’ groan or two.
Meredith rolled her eyes, and Bill chuckled.
The Texan said, “A Blood Witch is a mage with access to ritual magic. We don’t actually specialize in blood, per se. We tap into the life essence inside any living being. It could be blood, sap, or whatever.”
“That doesn’t sound very useful in combat,” Meredith said. “Rituals are slow.”
Raising a hand, Bill wiggled his fingers, flashing his bejeweled rings. “I spent some merits to enhance my ability to use magical items. These little babies were hard won, but they let me do some nasty stuff. You see this one here?” He tapped one with a red gem. “I cast a ritual and target it, then the gem stores it and lets me cast it instantly.” He tapped on another ring. “This one is similar, but it changes something. A variable. Like range or energy types.”
Ty tried not to complain about his magical items all being locked away, along with over a full level of rewards, back at his home base. “I’m ready to go when you all are. Meredith, do you have any equipment to get? You’re a ranger, right? Don’t you need a bow?”
Meredith scrunched her nose. “Do I?” She looked between Bill and Ty. “Which one of you has seen a really skilled and amazing archer?”
“Do the movies count?” Bill asked.
“Um, sure.”
“I definitely have,” Bill said.
He and Ty exchanged a knowing look. Both were thinking of the same elf.
Meredith exhaled, closing her eyes. A moment later, she stood and extended her hand. A bow matching a traditional fantasy aesthetic materialized out of thin air, along with a quiver full of arrows.
“How in the world did you do that?” Ty asked. He could have sworn she was standing and holding herself differently. It was as if she’d been concealing the full extent of her ranger abilities until the bow had appeared.
She wrinkled her nose at him, eyes dancing prettily. “Magic, of course.”
Ty and Bill exchanged looks. “I’m so underpowered for this party,” Ty muttered.
“Yup,” Bill said.
They left the hotel and collected a few necessities before heading to the outpost. Zeta greeted them when they arrived.
Bill took the lead. “We’re going to head out and explore the desert. We believe the source of your issue is to the north. Do you want to send any of your people with us?”
