Amdirlain’s PoV - Culerzic

Isa’s panel remained focused on the Firestorm’s target site and showed the celestials cleaning up the glowing landscape. With Amdirlain having emptied her Mana pool into the ritual, she watched the continuing celestial inferno she’d unleashed. The millions in experience it had netted her were as bitter as the ashes from kilometres of burning briars. Green grass sprang from the blackened earth as the burnt undergrowth faded into smouldering embers.

With the demons in total disarray, they had time to collect the celestials’ bodies from the mounds. The torrents of celestial fire were still protecting them from counterattack, and the armies eventually withdrew through the gates in an orderly fashion.

[Achievement: Celestial Purge

Details: Inflict over 60,000,000 damage to abyssal forces with one ritual using Celestial Affinity.

Reward: Unlocked evolved Wizard Class - Divine Arcanist. ]

Prompted by the notification, Amdirlain pushed Analysis to give her information on Torm as it had done with Balnérith.

[Torm

A Planetar formerly in Týr’s service, having earned promotion through the ranks from Mortal Petitioner. He broke service and changed his name upon descent through a transformation site that twisted his perspective and filled him with violence, rage, and selfish desire. By some miracle, he was lucky enough to become a Fallen instead of a Demon.]

Amdirlain tried repeatedly, but Analysis only provided variations of the same information; nothing about what his name had become.

“He’s a Fallen, not a Demon. A lucky miracle? Was that the Blessing you used, Isa?”

“I asked Luck to find a way,” admitted Isa, and staggered back with Amdirlain suddenly clinging to her. “It was the first thing that came to mind; I didn’t think the transformation would be instant.”

“Thank you, and sorry for screaming. I don’t know what Torm will be like, but that gives him a better chance,” whispered Amdirlain.

Releasing Isa, Amdirlain teleported them to the library and started emptying the shelves.

“You expect him to come here?”

“I doubt he’d risk it by himself if he’s become as twisted as Gideon indicates,” admitted Amdirlain. “But until I know otherwise, I need to take a scorched earth approach.”

“You’ve got everything locked down, Amdirlain,” Isa sighed.

“I promise I won’t keep it in, but base evacuation comes first. I’ll deal with it once I’ve got a new bolt hole,” Amdirlain said tersely. “Can you help gather things? I know you didn’t push your Inventory the way Sarah did, but every little bit helps.”

“I’ll open up a Gate in your Spell chamber with the containment circles. I’ll bucket brigade whatever you bring into the cavern,” Isa suggested. With a touch, Isa emptied a shelf and teleported away, and soon, Amdirlain heard her voice echoing down the hall.

Teleport placed her in the chamber, but Isa was already through, so Amdirlain offloaded the books she’d collected and returned to gather more. The hours spent carefully setting up the library with Torm were quickly reversed, as if they’d never been. The workshops and training rooms followed suit, and the chambers’ silence became an echoing hollow that carved bloody scars in Amdirlain’s heart.

When Isa took the last crate of weapons through the Gate, she turned to face Amdirlain. “Set yourself up a new base, and then you can figure out a plan.”

“Got to find a place that I think will be safe. I’ll be in touch,” Amdirlain stated. As soon as Isa closed the Gate, Amdirlain teleported away.

The darkness of the material quarantine station enfolded her, and Amdirlain leaned her forehead against the engraved ‘1’ marker she’d set in the wall. Torm had never been here, but Amdirlain felt no desire to let the others know yet.

With the mana swirling towards her through the surrounding rock, Amdirlain let her mind blank and started to cycle mana through her pattern. The first completion washed the chamber with a burst of light, an afterimage of flickering flames and golden feathers.

As the flames repeated over again, Amdirlain slowly smiled and began to consider the details of her next move.

“Ebusuku said I was empty of the Abyssal Heat when I first met her,” Amdirlain murmured, and she tossed additional options into the mix.

An option that came to the fore twisted her stomach with distaste, but her discomfort with the form sealed its selection. Her body bulked out and shifted genders, and Amdirlain thudded around the chamber to practise the heavy gait of a Dretch. True Song added poorly patched clothing, the abyssal hides rasping against her skin.

“Ebusuku, I’ll be busy for a while. I’m choosing to take care of a few things alone. Don’t worry; it's not a head-on fight I’m picking. You and the other deities made some choices, and I had to sit back because of the risk to me from our side if I’d charged in. Now you can sit back while I take some calculated risks.”

Her message sent, Amdirlain focused on Mana cycling and practising the slow lumbering movements. She’d barely begun when a buzz of Mana from a waiting Message caught her attention, and Amdirlain almost shattered it but listened instead.

Ebusuku’s words were brittle and frayed, making Amdirlain regret the tone she had taken with her.

“Amdirlain, Isa told me that Torm is a Fallen now, but you’ve helped even demons climb out of that place. While Torm didn’t want you contacted, I didn’t have a chance not to follow his preference. Caltzan’s boss ordered the first Gate; after that, the rest of us could have sat it out or backed them up. Their deities are clueless about you and think someone did the impossible to reach across planes with a ritual. We’re always here for you, whether to scream at, talk to, or plan with. Be safe.”

Loss and regrets tried to claw across her mind, but Amdirlain tore them apart. While she deconstructed every regret—the knife wounds of loss—she crushed down with the determination to find him again. She packed away each moment of misery and pain to inflict and share with her foes.

As fury grew cold inside her, Amdirlain let out a slow breath before she started on a song. Caltzan’s internal music had given her the key, and Roher's message song had given her the means.

“I only know you by the name Caltzan, but I have other means to contact and reach you than ‘Use’ names. Your paranoia cost me and has twisted at least Torm. You and I will discuss that cost when you’re no longer Planar Locked. Somehow, I doubt you’ll like the outcome of that discussion. Love from your now personal ill-omen of reckoning.”

It was petty, but Amdirlain released it anyway, and the song leapt upwards across the planes before she could change her mind.

The next message Amdirlain wanted to send, she knew, didn’t require any transmission.

“Thanks for letting me know even that little information about Torm, Gideon. Hopefully, me saying thanks instead of swearing at you doesn’t cause a flaw in a facet or imply you’ve broken a rule.”

[Diplomacy [Ad] (13->14)]

Bitter laughter spilled from her, and Amdirlain returned to cycling Mana. When her Mana pool finally refilled, Amdirlain reappeared in a gully close to where she and Torm had waited for the caravan. She quickly set up a fake profile that contained her name as ‘Useful’ and presented levels in the mid-20s for Warrior and Labourer in case anyone insisted on an imprint. A few minutes later, with lumbering steps, a Dretch just large enough to have gained his Lesser Tier started towards the dusty road. The Demon’s heavy steps led directly towards the trade route that ran up the middle of the broad valley.

Though it was out of sight from her position, Amdirlain knew the caravan they’d aborted the raid on had originated from a township at its end. One that should contain the residence of Munais’ Wizard if the information Caltzan had shared with Torm was true.

Though she could have appeared far closer, it was time she wanted to practice the Dretch’s lumbering walk. Each step felt like she was miming wading through thick mud, and she had to monitor that she didn’t move at a pace impossible for her apparent level. Cruel brutish thoughts, patterned off her recent guide’s mind, germinated a mental construct with False Mind. Among the simple thoughts were sharp recollections of an Ascension’s recent agony.

The form’s heavy brows and narrowed gaze concealed how she took in all the township’s details when its walls came into view. The trip down the valley’s slope allowed plenty of time to memorise the layout. Overall, it was simple enough: a massive doughnut cut into quarters by wide roads leading to a gleaming Gate. Around the shifting energy, loading docks and their connected warehouses made up the inner ring.

Beyond the warehouses, the second layer’s buildings were an erratic splashing of entertainment, crafters, and housing before the townships’ defences. Garrison buildings and thick stone walls of soot-blackened rock marked the boundary, abyssal steel slabs posed as the gates at each entry. Throughout the settlement, narrow lanes and alleys supplemented the main roads and wove between the buildings.

Two gates had small processions of Dretch labourers pulling large wagons behind them. Though the behemoth caravan would have exited using the path she followed, there was a distinct lack of any traffic currently approaching using Amdirlain’s route. Her lonely presence let the Schir guards securing the gate focus solely on her disguised form.

The goat-faced demons narrowed their gazes suspiciously, and Amdirlain caught their commander pointing the contingent at the gate her way. Dipping into long nights of mind-numbing boredom, Amdirlain let the emotion leak out. As she trudged forward, the sheer slowness of the form’s pace added to the boredom’s weight, even as it sharpened her fury.

One guard stepped forward with a bardiche lowered towards her, its black chain mail slithering with rasping ill-intent with every motion.

[Name: Nazarg

Species: Schir

Class: Fighter / Soldier

Level: 3 / 38 / 38

Health: 2,957

Defence: 214

Melee Attack Power: 181

Combat Skills: Bardiche [M] (2), Short Blades [Ad] (24), Mace [Ad] (31)

Details: The Schir are the front-line infantry troops for many demon lords and possess a coordinated Blink ability that lets them move in packs. ]

“Where are you from, Dretch?” growled Nazarg; his nostrils flared but only registered the road’s dust upon Amdirlain’s form.

“Road,” muttered Amdirlain, jabbing a finger at the ground.

“I know you’re on the road. What town?”

“Not a town, famine fruit place.”

“There aren’t orchards near here.”

“Overseer gave me name. Glared at me. Called me Useful. Everything hurt. After, me appear near road. Long walk here,” Amdirlain stumbled out the words while waving angrily behind her.

“Useful?”

“Big Demon gave me that name,” declared Amdirlain proudly, thumping her chest.

“Why?”

Making a show of scratching her bald scalp in confusion, Amdirlain gave a broad shrug. “Carrying things? Or hitting things?”

“Fine. What was their name?”

Amdirlain's expression of sullen confusion drew a snort of derision. “Me not thick. Why ask their name? Not want be dead. He wore Moloch’s crest. No need know more.”

Nazarg’s gaze raked over her badly patched leathers and caught at the lack of pouches. “No coins.”

Amdirlain spat. “At Orchard. Cambions won all bone games. Take money, run fast.”

Finally, her nudges of boredom had Nazarg growl in disgust, and he stepped aside to wave her through.

Beyond the gate’s thick steel barrier, the initial occupants she spotted comprised Schir, and Dretch, with the rare Succubus. With nothing on hand to offer them, the stronger demons disregarded her presence. Those around her apparent strength responded to a subtle press of disinterest and boredom and moved on their way.

Bare-footed, she trudged forward, keeping her path straight despite the blood and offal squelching underfoot. The heavy outer barracks gave way to barred shop fronts where she spotted signs advertising weapons and armour. An array of goods and services followed those along the main road, all apparently to keep boredom at bay.

When she got closer to the central circle, other demons began to appear. The bruise-coloured BrÍn showed up among the guards, most keeping their primary hands free of weapons, but their third flexible arm rarely strayed far from a weapon’s hilt.

A behemoth’s head poked beyond the Gate’s threshold as she got towards the warehouse area. The ground reverberated with the shockwave of its first thumping step through the Gate, eliciting a swarm of demonic labourers heading towards the town’s interior.

Picking up the details from the inhabitants' minds, she found hiring was a simple process. Her thudding steps followed the other Dretch to the loading docks and brought her to an overseer’s desk. Eventually, it was her turn to step forward, and Amdirlain had already confirmed there were no traps here.

Her motion had the Schir overseer direct his beady red gaze at her from out of deeply sunken eye sockets for a long moment, before it pushed a token across the desk. “Press it to each crate you pick up. Pick up the crates you are told to take and follow the line. Stack them where they tell you to and only there. Understand?”

The Schir gave the orders with lots of pointing and pantomimed pressing another token to an empty crate that sat nearby—as he had done for every other Dretch. When the Schir nodded his goat-like head, Amdirlain followed suit and picked up the token he had pushed forward. Rebalancing her experience allocation between only her Anar classes, she moved towards the goods being unloaded.

Metal ingots weighed down the first crate she lifted, and the supervisor ordering them about eyed her warily as Amdirlain lifted it smoothly and set it on her shoulder. Already committed, she strolled along holding her focus on Silent Song. The slow pace allowed her to set coiled energy nodes in place. She tied each lock to her proximity within the town and set them in different places: alongside walls, under walkways, or in mid-air, each undetectable—even to those that walked through them.

[Silent Song [Ap] (2->3)

Multi-voice [Ad] (3->4)]

Stacking the crate in the warehouse, Amdirlain found the next crate she collected contained jugs of chemicals. When she laid her hands on it, a supervisor yelled to handle it carefully. She set a mix of songs within the new warehouse in the rows of similar crates—a blend of Celestial energy alternating with coiled plasma.

[Silent Song [Ap] (3->4)]

Hours spent offloading pallets that had arrived on the behemoths allowed her plenty of time to establish energy nodes in her crates and others. By the time her shift was done and the token traded for a pittance of abyssal coins, she had sung hundreds of songs. A network of linked energy nodes sat throughout the warehouses and the Gate’s perimeter. As Lorrella had confirmed, True Song left no sign of Mana, but Amdirlain could feel the links. A spider web of sound and intent linked her to each bomb.

Slouched outside a fruit stand, Inventory allowed her to mimic the consumption of a famine fruit without tasting it. With each faked bite, Amdirlain carefully copied the satisfied grunts she heard from the other Dretch. It was a pantomime purely to spend more time studying the Gate’s swirling energy while it was still within easy reach. While Amdirlain didn’t find a hint of dissonance, its energy strands gave her food for thought.

Its natural energies linking Culerzic with the Abyss’ uppermost plane made its value apparent. If there had been any doubt in her mind, the iron fortress at the other end confirmed the prize’s worth.

With her snack complete, Amdirlain shambled off to tour the town’s middle loop. Ironically, without the wards, she might have missed what she was seeking among the noise. The building didn’t stand out from its neighbours with the same dingy grey stone and narrow windows as the rest of the township. But the wards' precise layering differed entirely from what others possessed. Though their presence caught her attention, they did nothing to stop Resonance from taking in the details of the Wizard’s house.

A fading song of mental desperation highlighted the tiny room where Munais had spent months in battle with a Collar of Servitude. Despite her efforts, the enchantment’s music had held Munais’ will fast. At the sound of her pain, Amdirlain had to force herself to keep moving rather than risk alerting the Wizard to his fate.

Starting with his house, she slowly completed multiple circuits of the outer district. Amdirlain projected a steady intent to continue with her business on each loop through various lanes and alleys. She set more explosives on every path, alternating their placement before or within every building. Never pausing in her wandering, she targeted whatever caught her attention on her path but ensured there were frequent charges in foundations.

Passing slave pens, she lingered for a time with other demons, terrifying those restrained. She used her time to set paired songs in place within the prisoners. The first to shatter the binding enchantments and a second to dismiss them to their home worlds when their manacles broke.

After a day of work completed, she crouched among the shadows in a quiet cul-de-sac and mentally reached towards the Wizard’s home. Mental wards sufficient to block basic demonic telepathy didn’t prevent her from peering into his mind. She spent only a moment examining the ornate study and the tome he had open before she coiled her fingers into his mind and yanked it hard.

Within the enfolding blackness of the mental prison she had prepared, the Wizard screamed, yet his body in the real world didn’t even twitch. His self-image presented him as a bearish biped with maggot-white fur and gold-capped claws.

“Where is Munais?”

“Release me at once.”

The Wizard thrashed about, lashing out with claws, only to scream when acid dissolved mental fur and flesh.

“You’re in my mind. The rules are what I make them. Every attack you try will earn you more pain, and a lack of cooperation will earn you agony. Where is Munais?” insisted Amdirlain.

The sharp intelligence of the Wizard’s mind burned with the pain that Amdirlain’s will intensified, and he grunted a reply. “Moloch’s people claimed her. I don’t know where she is now.”

“You will tell me how you collared her and hid it from the others,” ordered Amdirlain. The malicious whisper of the vines and a looming sense of aeons of pain cracked against the Wizard’s mind.

Stretching out his perception of time, she waited for him to speak. Yet, used to the Abyss's cruelty, weeks of subjective time passed in seconds before he broke within the darkness that had shrouded him.

“My household uniform had a collar hidden. It had implanted orders to take true form and do nothing until told. I put a second on her directly. I didn’t need to hide it from True Sight, her device did that when I ordered her to change back. She was then told to forget she was wearing it and to believe she had just put on the uniform.

Amdirlain almost groaned at the piece of the trap the celestials had set for themselves.

“Why did you have the collar there? Had something given her away?”

“No. I’m always dealing with spies from other factions, both from the Abyss and my world. All my uniforms have them. It lets me question their spies and learn their plans. I never expected a Celestial.”

“How did Moloch become interested in them? What do you know of the trap?”

The bearish figure struggled, and Amdirlain’s willpower slowly crushed the answers from him. “I don’t know if Moloch was ever directly involved. I sold one of her feathers to the town’s commander; soon, they wanted more. A month later, a Balor named Zutag commanded my presence at his castle. After that, I spoke only to him. He gave me locations to test the preparations of Munais’ allies.”

“What about the slaves they freed?”

“She never gained details about any of my sales.”

An image of a caravan showed floating in the darkness between them. The faces of the prisoners from within the cages floated around it.

“You told her of a shipment with suddenly changed transport plans. Was this before or after Zutag’s involvement?”

The question had him struggling again, and Amdirlain pulled up a memory. It was one she shared with perfect detail, thrusting her arm into the acidic sap on Ûbuthan. At the experience of flesh melting from the bone, unrestrained by her ability ‌to handle pain, he screamed the answer. “After. That was his first test.”

“What was your role, and what did you earn?”

All it took was the smell of dissolving flesh, and he overcame his hesitation to answer. “Grimoires, in return for acting as her controller. He wanted to avoid the temptation to kill her while he decided what trap to set.”

“Do you know more ‘Use’ names of Moloch’s officials?”

He started to nod, but Amdirlain continued.

“Have you been to other towns on this Plane?”

“Yes, of course.”

“The officials’ names and then picture the towns.”

The Wizard tried to wiggle free, and Amdirlain’s mental slap fragmented his gathering will.

“Would you like to experience more garden time?” asked Amdirlain, and she gave the Wizard a grim smile. “You can have a pleasant time with vines ripping at your flesh, or acid, or I can find something mildly uncomfortable. Would you enjoy being flayed?”

“What sort of Celestial are you to torture someone?”

Amdirlain laughed and pressed the fear she’d felt meeting Tiamat on Judgement through the darkness. “I’m not a Celestial. As for what you call torture, these are some of my more pleasant memories. Surely you can tell I put my arm in the acid myself. Now talk, or we can walk with me through my memories. Press me, and I’ll make it seem like a billion years and yet keep you sane through it all.”

Amdirlain memorised the eight names the Wizard rapidly provided and images from hundreds of towns. On each, she questioned him about the reason for the visit and the goods he’d seen or heard of being produced by the settlement.

“You’ve travelled extensively, so I think it’s time you had some rest. When I release you, make no sound. Continue to sit at your desk and try to study that grimoire before you. Hopefully, you can learn the lesson that is coming your way.”

Amdirlain let his mind go and, with her awareness still extended to him, felt him struggling against the bars of her instructions. Without even standing, Amdirlain reappeared in the mouth of a distant gully and watched as Celestial eruptions broke the town. No longer restrained by her presence, the songs exploded nearly as one to wash buildings clean and char the weakest demons into ash.

A few, a very special few, left mortals with blackened souls screaming in despair. The Celestial energy turned a mirror of reflection on their souls to see the fate that awaited them ahead of time. However, they didn’t have to wait long for judgement as a wave of plasma song, linked to that first explosion, washed across them to melt stone and flesh.

Away from the Wizard’s house, the light that washed through the slave pens shattered the wards and left them empty in their wake. Their Mortal flesh, attuned to their worlds and homes, guided their way.

Between the buildings, blackened ground softened, and green shoots came forth. For a brief time, the primal essence of the Abyss flexed and churned, toppling buildings like dominos. The rush of experience that hit made her blink at the combat summary tallying demonic dead.

[Combat Summary:

Assorted Mortals x23

BrÍn, Lesser x344

BrÍn x124

Dretch, Least x1,472

Dretch, Lesser x619

Succubus, Least x524

Succubus, Lesser x85

Schir, Lesser x2,098

Schir x1,178

Skëll, Lesser x4

Humsi x12

Fraz-gòn, Lesser x47

Total Experience gained: 15,817,362

Ostimë: +7,908,681

Ostimë Level Up! x32

Ontãlin: +7,908,681

Ontãlin Level Up! x32

Note: Blow things up with an approach related to your classes, and you’ll get the cookies. Okay? ]

“Thank you, Gideon,” whispered Amdirlain.

Among the Celestial music, the bitter harmonics of the Gate were even more apparent. Amdirlain sang, but not to sunder the Gate; instead, she energised a dozen threads among the spiralling energy and set them speeding faster until a high-pitch dissonance buzzed through the Gate’s integrity. The whirlpool of forces continued to speed up, gaining a deadly momentum as it went.

Teleporting away, she appeared back in the quarantine area.

Amdirlain tossed conservative plans out the window when an attempt to Scry for Munais got her nothing. Not having enough capability to compose the songs she wanted, Amdirlain started to spend the Skill points she’d been saving.

True Song Composition, already pushed by the day's creativity, quickly leapt ahead with the Skill points Amdirlain dropped into it. One point at a time, her awareness of the Skill continued to expand and resonated with experiences within her Soul.

Normally, a Skill’s increase signalled her own increased proficiency. The first few points had entire sets of notational concepts that she’d only started to study with Isa, flooded through her mind, and more rose from her Soul to meet them. Soon, elements she merely copied from spells or materials gained clarity of meaning and purpose. How to manipulate energy forms became tinkering with chemical reactions, creating biological processes, simple lifeforms, and their characteristics. The limits of the songs she could compose stretched further than she’d expected towards her imagination’s boundaries.

Cycles of life and death within species had lured her into learning enough to understand immortal flesh. A goal that seemed ever only slightly out of reach, and repeatedly, she spent just one more point. Each time the information smashed against her Soul, doubling the gain and tempting her to learn ‌more.

[True Song Composition [M] (99) -> [S] (1)]

That notification finally caught Amdirlain's attention with how far she had pushed the Skill along. She had long ago learnt more than she could currently use. Still, the truths and capabilities within the Skill’s knowledge had teased at the possibility of more extraordinary revelations just ahead, so she had pressed on. Now, the pain was an ice-cold pick through her brain with dots of light swimming in her eyes despite the complete darkness.

“Too much.”

[Mental Hardening [S] (23->24)

Pain Eater [M] (54->55)]

“When did you two go up during that?” muttered Amdirlain.

Leaning against the chamber’s stone table, Amdirlain set down stacks of paper and started to write, working through the unfiltered knowledge she gained to learn to apply the Skill properly. One idea after another that she’d intended to experiment with, she now jotted down the songs to achieve them using notations the Skill’s increase had taught her. Applying the Skill reinforced mental connections as she went, easing the pain away until she no longer needed to lean against the table.

Shifting back through the last songs she wrote, it was clear hundreds of them were still out of reach for her True Song. But eventually, she found an option to achieve what she needed. Practising the song a half-dozen times let Amdirlain smooth out her performance of the work but not the foulness in the music itself. Hoping she wasn’t too late, Amdirlain sang. This time to deliver a promise that she hoped would be welcome.

“Munais, if you’re still on Culerzic, you will feel pain shortly. If you’re not, I’m sorry, but you’re out of my reach to help. If you actively resist, this won’t work. My intent is to destroy your form and force you to your Liege’s Domain regardless of any wards or opposing domains. You know me. You once gave me your perspective on finding beauty in the Abyss.”

The released song didn’t leap away across the planes but remained on Culerzic. Hoping Munais could act on the message True Song had impressed into her mind, Amdirlain began. The music wasn’t a clean or pleasant tune; rather, a horrid and brutal implement of destruction that would cause a willing target to explode violently.

Stretching at the limits of her capability, the song’s completion tore up Amdirlain's throat, but the notification made it worth it.

[Combat Summary:

Astral Deva x1

Schir, Greater x1

Schir x10

Total Experience Gained: 73,256

Ostimë: +36,628

Ontãlin: +36,628

True Song [M] (48->49)]

Pleased at the notification despite the song’s backlash, Amdirlain gave a grim smile and waited for her voice box to regrow.

[Achievement: Angel Killer

Condition: Kill an Angel with a single strike while having taken no damage from it in combat.

Condition: Resident of one of the lower planes.

Reward: Minor bonus damage to an Angel or Fallen in melee combat.

Reward: Celestials of the slain Angel’s rank or lower will fear or loathe the very sight of you.]

Growling, Amdirlain spat bits of flesh and blood across the floor. “Fuck!”