《The Power of Ten: Book One: Sama Rantha, and Book Two: The Far Future》Chapter Twelve – Hell and Fire
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In Dream...
It took me a bunch of deaths to kill that dog. I think the Curse was very smug.
It was an Advanced Hell Hound, ten to twelve Hit Dice, a true monster of the breed, and it looked like a powderpuff poodle the size of a small elephant… and acted like a playful puppy.
I had no real combat Classes I could take until I completed my required series and looped back around. That meant no improvements in offensive or defensive ability to speak of, which basically meant the damn thing was going to kill me repeatedly.
Hiding up high didn’t work. It was delighted to set the whole damn room on fire and char me dead with smoke and flames.
So, for five days I basically played a game of hide and seek with it, it chased me around, breathed hellfire on me, nipped at me happily, tossed me up and threw me around, and I could not possibly kill it fast enough to live.
I still tried. Fido didn’t seem to mind, it was a big happy game, and I was the entertainment.
So, I died. But… I got to kill those constructs, spiders, and that damn cat over and over again. The Curse obviously was on auto-pilot; why mess up a good thing if it was so successful? If I could have set up the battlefield a bit better, maybe I could have eked out a lucky kill.
I couldn’t, although I did last longer by using cover. Alas, it wasn’t a video game, where the environment is somehow immune to fires that can melt metal and doesn’t go up in smoke. The longer I fought, the more the place was buried in flames, and eventually the smoke would get me, or the floor and walls would be on fire, and I’d just cook, it would bound up and munch on me happily.
Damn dog.
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So, on Day Four, I took my Vizard level.
Vizard was the non-magic wizard. It was similar to the Expert, but with a different focus. Where the Expert learned many skills and was probably awesome at one or two with Feats, the Vizard knew fewer skills, but was awesome at more of them.
Main difference, Experts had 8 skill points, Vizards had 4. Vizards got a Skill Feat every level, however. And as a Forsaken, I naturally got another one.
I chose my skill to be ‘developing my Null’, and picked Mage Slayer and Pierce Magical Concealment. I picked my advance to be Null Mastery/1, increasing my Null by 1. This brought it to 15, which meant the Hound only roasted me 90% of the time. I did manage to save one time out of every four, for all the good it did me…
Mage Slayer meant that a Caster of any kind using magic within reach of me couldn’t cast defensively and ignore me. Being a Null extended that to any kind of magic… which included using a breath weapon, among other things. So, it meant I had another source of attacks to vent on things.
Pierce Magical Concealment normally required Blind Fighting, but I was a Null, so that was waived. It meant I was unaffected by magical effects that concealed enemies, notably invisibility, illusions, displacements, and spatial tricks, and by using a One Strike, I could actually dispel or eliminate such effects automatically.
Like on that damn cat.
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My four skill points went to Spellcraft (3) and Knowledge/Arcane (1). Know thy enemy, and all that.
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I ran the circuit. Being able to clearly sense the Hellcat meant I was more confident in fighting it anywhere, but clearly being able to ambush it and shred it with a sneak attack was far more effective.
This was the time the dog set the whole room on fire to bring me back down. I think the fall killed me before I roasted to death, actually, although it was probably close.
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Day Five. Today I clicked over Minstrel.
Minstrels were different from Bards, as they didn’t have the Heartsong, and couldn’t wield magic. To affect morale and the like, Minstrels had to be using magical instruments, and could only do so a number of times per day based on their Ranks in those instruments.
It also meant that just singing didn’t help out anyone else, since there was no magic to carry the effects to others.
For yourself, however, it worked just fine. You just had to have Song and Dance, and, well, be a Warsinger variant. Guess what my first bonus Feat was? Minstrels got Feats in lieu of Bardic Spellcasting… and naturally I got an extra one.
I could only do a true Wardance once a day with max 3 Ranks, but the +2 Morale bonus Th/Dmg was perfectly useful against Slinky the Hellcat. Foe Hunter or Favored Enemy might overshadow it someday.
Countersong against sonic/musical effects, probably not going to be too useful. +half Minstrel level to Knowledge Checks was fine, I didn’t mind being informed, my brain was already full of plenty of information that was currently useless in a pure combat environment.
Spell Feat: Wardancer, doubles bardic music combat effects on self only, based on Song and Dance Ranks.
Bonus Feat: Lingering Music, effects last for one minute after I stop Singing to myself, only have to Dance on the initial round if I cared to.
Skill Points 6, Basically Perform Skills. 3 each to Song and Dance, nimble and now I had my ballet toes, and suddenly I knew a lot of music in my head, from lullabies to epics… and could actually recall a huge chunk of the music I’d heard in my old life, and recreate it.
Mastery, Song Mastery/1.
So, not a total waste.
I still died playing tag with Fido, but I was in much better shape by the time I got to him. This was mainly because I battle-danced my way through a whole lot of spiders with greater speed and killing power. Fatigue actually accrued much slower during the dance, as I was moving more on ki than on pure muscle power.
As for my song? I had my own theme music from the game, and I brought it back with a vengeance.
Tremble, She Comes!
There were stanzas in every language I knew, and multiples in a few of them. I Sang them as part of Intimidation checks against enemies in their own languages, so the song would proliferate and infiltrate their own Akashas to greater effect. I wanted my enemies singing it around their own campfires, knowing that to face me in a fight was to be ready to die!
Tremble, She Comes!
Dual duty, because the Name of my Sword was Tremble. I was only lacking it for now, but I would have my Sword, and they would know to fear when I came!
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Day Six came, and I took my Alchemist level.
Alchemists have the ability to create magic bombs, but Forsaken didn’t, so our Alchemists were called Rune Chemists. We used a different style of Alchemy to do our stuff, bringing in magic with drawn Runes that resonated with the world to draw power into things that magnified their natural tendencies, where Alchemists used their own power to change and charge up substances and make them into new things. We burned gold and valuable materials, and they burned Karma.
We Energized, they Infused.
Naturally, without raw materials and time, I couldn’t do squat. I certainly couldn’t create things on the spur of the moment, alchemy was a downtime profession.
Instead of bombs, I picked Sneak Attack. It stacked with that of my Scout class, nicely enough, so I now had a base of +2d6. I couldn’t exceed my level in dice, but that was still a very nice damage boost if I was moving… or using an Attack of Opportunity.
I relearned how to mix Potions, which required both Chemistry and Alchemy for Rune Chemists. Alas, no materials.
My Advance went to Alchemy/1.
Six Skill points. With Alchemy and Chemistry already maxed with my Expert Ranks, I turned to Glassblowing and Knowledge: Nature, 3 Ranks in each. Whenever I got back to reality, I’d be able to create my own alchemical lab in fairly short order.
I did tag Fido several times today, but he eventually roasted me down after chasing me under the dresser after nipping off my arm.
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Day Seven. Artificer level.
Forsaken Artificers were called Runesmiths. Instead of Spellcraft and Infusing stuff, our magical stuff was based on Skill Ranks, skill checks, and actually crafting, or knowing how to craft, specific items. So, to make a wide variety of items, we had to be able to make all those items.
And since Quality Level drove magic item power levels, we had to be really, really good at making them, unlike Powered.
So, I could Scribe a Runic Scroll I couldn’t use, for instance, which was a damn shame with all the blood of magical beasts laying around. Hellcats could easily be used to make Vanish scrolls, for instance… whatever.
Bonus Feat for losing Infusion ability: Craft Runic Arms and Armor. I really wanted my Sword, but oh well.
Forsaken Bonus Feat: Attune Magical Weapon. I had plans for this…
Six Skill points. I went with Gearsmithing (3), Whitesmithing (2), and Jeweler/Gemcrafter (1)
Advance went to Weaponsmithing/1.
I did things a little out of order, my primary focus on just what exactly was in the dressers. Artificers needed something to work with, after all.
I killed the wooden toys, went berserk on the cat, and then just let the spiders start moving as I concentrated on climbing over the oversized drawers and pushing them open to see what was within.
Baby clothes. Diapers. Bottles and wipes…
And a gleaming pair of scissors, nail files, and the like.
The scissors were sized equal to everything else here, and limb and handles were nearly four feet long.
I opened them up past the pin, poked it out, and separated the halves.
“Mwa-hahahahahah!” I eyed the spiders coming down the walls and weblines, my eyes shining.
No, I wasn’t going to go dual long swords yet, that was ridiculous. I wasn’t strong enough or skilled enough, that was a high-level thing when you had attack bonus and strength to spare. Trying to do that now would just earn me a flurry of misses and broken wrists.
Only the point was sharp, the edge was just sheer. That was fine. It could be sharpened. And I even had a source of heat nearby to do the initial reshaping. It would not be a great sword, but it would suffice for what I wanted to do.
I didn’t use it against the spiders, as it was still half of a pair of scissors. But let’s just say I was very enthusiastic as I ran around ripping into them.
They were mostly dead when Fido came in. I ran back to my scissors, grabbed it up, and turned to face the happy hell poodle.
As usual, he trotted towards me, and breathed out hellfire to welcome me.
I skirted aside as the cone of flame blasted past me. Hellfire didn’t do half damage to material objects like most energies, and penetrated with incredible power. The whole blade I left trailing in it was heated white-hot in a second, on the verge of melting away completely.
I ran and slid under the dresser to avoid a round of bites. He’d be able to breathe again in thirty seconds, but in the meantime could only yip at me at 90 decibels.
The other half of the scissors was there, and I drew mine down the length of the steel, shearing off the blunt edge and making it sharper with one stroke, two. I grit my teeth, prepared a black-nailed finger, and as the flesh cooked off the digit, carved a Rune into the rapidly cooling steel.
Tremble. My blood hissed over it as my flesh burned, and I dumped my whole Craft Reserve into the Rune even as I Attuned to it.
I felt it flare to pseudo-life, tied to my soul by blood, magic and skill. It wasn’t a masterwork Weapon, but I’d work with what I had.
Before Fido breathed again, I slid out the far side of the dresser and booked it for the crib.
He swallowed what he was about to spit out and chased me around the legs of the crib a few times, until he got bored and breathed out to flush me out from under there.
I ducked behind a leg which began to go up in tinder behind me, while the circle grip of the scissors was heated white hot in an instant. My other hand burned on the blade as I brought the other scissor blade over, and sliced off half the heated circle of steel. Then I propped it up against the brass bottoms of the burning table leg, wedged it in there, and heaved back, bending the hot metal straight.
I dropped the off side, and grabbed that hilt, my skin instantly burning through, drew my fingers and ki down the length of it to make my hilt. Black streaks extended down the blade from my blood, but that only bound the magic tighter. I laughed as my hands screamed in agony, tears falling down my face as I turned it around and quenched it in the only material available to do so.
Fido was probably a little surprised when he came sniffing around and found me already dead, but I didn’t care.
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Transposition
Please note: the Sexual Content tag is there due to a single brief plot-relevant scene, which has a warning at the beginning. For other details, read the full description below. Rating breakdown, since that should be public info: 5 x 5*, 2 x 4.5*, 1 x 0.5* During a blackout, a frail and ragged old woman stops to ask for a glass of water from a backyard barbecue party. Given a good supper instead, she looks around the group, and tells them, "Be who and what you truly are." Days later, seven of the people from the barbecue find themselves drawn into a trap laid by a pair of wizards and their accomplices, who kidnap them into a bubble reality. All seven, who have known each other all their lives, are informed that they are not in fact entirely human: they have active fae blood, due to a series of conditions culminating with the blessing of the elderly fae woman. The transformation into fae form comes as a shock: all seven, whether originally female or male, find themselves now unreasonably beautiful women. More urgent even than that, though, is their captivity. Getting back to the real world is a higher priority than this metamorphosis that rapidly begins to feel natural... but this is only the first step, as the diverse types of fae blood they carry begin to surface. With no resources except themselves, how can they escape this prison? If they succeed, how can they possibly reclaim their lives? Just how many other faelings have been kidnapped, anyway, and what happened to them? And is there a way to make sure that their captors never put anyone else through this? Back in the real world, Kayla, who learned long ago to trust her gut instincts, is absolutely certain that something is very wrong. The pattern in the list of missing friends is easy to spot, but makes no sense at all. Then a young woman turns up at the backyard gate who knows more than she should, and even though her explanation makes even less sense, every instinct tells Kayla that Riley is her only way to get them back. If they're not quite what they were, well, that's a bridge to cross later... Just a little note: I'm a big believer in endings that are upbeat but not candy-coated, and not a fan of grim-and-gritty or of glamorized violence. These are adults in a difficult situation. However, no one gets raped, and the physical violence is, all things considered, fairly minimal. There is some harassment, sexual and otherwise, and also some mild restraint and mild verbal abuse. Complicating factors are generally wizardly or fae in nature. If I need to warn you about gender in this being all over the map, some of it reality-based rather than fantasy-based, highly diverse sexuality, or that there is (especially later) some indirect fetish/BDSM imagery and honest character discussion, then you probably should just avoid everything I write. :-) Also available on Scribble Hub.
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