Amdirlain’s PoV - Outlands - Blazing Portal Inn in Xaos

The rooftop suite was lavishly furnished with deep comfortable chairs, soft beds and thick rugs. It had a ‘small’ library of only a few thousand books and a kitchen suitable for some larger modern restaurants. The issue Fanya had indicated with the suite wasn't only because the outer walls were transparent but also the interior walls' top half. The setup left all the rooms well illuminated by the Outlands’ constant sunlight. Though, unlike the harsh sky of the Elemental Plane of Fire, it was an energy that didn't push through the building’s material, giving mortals a chance at a regular rest despite its presence.

Fortunately for Amdirlain's sanity, the suite’s furnishings weren’t the constant fluffy white of the foyer or building but a mixture of deep earthen tones. The interior colour scheme mixed well with the abundant rooftop garden, which featured both earth-like and strange fey-style plants.

Investigating the wash facilities, she found enchantments capable of delivering everything from sulphuric strength acids, scouring dust-laden winds, molten liquids and, more conservatively, an oversized tub capable of filling with simple hot water even if its size made it seem like a deep wading pool.

When Amdirlain accepted the suite, Fanya quickly descended the glass spiral stairs and lowered the door into place. The click as it settled home echoed up the stairwell, and Amdirlain was left standing in the living space, feeling slightly adrift.

Amdirlain sent a message she’d long looked forward to dispatching. “Sage, I’m at the Blazing Portal in Xaos. I don’t suppose you’d like help with your world projects?”

“Goddess, I can be there shortly or meet you somewhere else.”

The reverent tone in Sage’s reply caught Amdirlain by surprise, and she carefully considered her response. “Sage. I’m in their rooftop suite, registered under the name of Am, but there isn’t any rush. Please come to see me only when you’re free of prior commitments. I’ve some songs I need to work out that I hope will help your work, so take your time.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I’ve finished delegating the most immediate tasks,” replied Sage.

Scrubbing at her face, Amdirlain stepped out into the garden and sat on a shaded bench. Focused on the living plants, she took in their songs and tried to find the intertwined life forms she expected from the bacteria to the earthworms. While she found pollinating insects, earthworms, and other non-microscopic elements, the microbes, soil fungi, and other aspects of soil she’d expected were absent or beyond her ability to detect. From what she could sense, the soil essence seemed to directly supply the plants and animals with energy balanced for their needs.

Reaching out to the living beings within the town, she focused on their subtle themes and harmonies. Within them, she caught the aspects of their song that her True Song Architecture matched to what she’d expected for gut microbes and other things.

[Resonance [S] (75->76]]

The confirmation that her Resonance was not only picking them up correctly but was challenged by doing so, had Amdirlain redouble the efforts of her study. Only receiving word from Sage informing her of his impending arrival broke her focus.

Dispatching a Message to Wisp that she expected a visitor, Amdirlain stood and stretched. “I’ll need to study a living world first.”

Aware she could still hear a large surrounding area, she pulled in Resonance’s reach to avoid eavesdropping on Sage’s emotions.

Opening the suite’s front door, Amdirlain started at the sight that awaited her. Before the door, Sage stood front and centre in a dusky-skinned Wood Elf form, but he wasn’t alone. To the left was a very recognisable balding Dwarf, an almost perfect circle of scalp surrounded by a long fringe of hair left to grow across his shoulders. The dull iron-grey of his hair matched the long beard Moradin had tucked inside the shirt of his heavy-duty forge clothes.

“Won’t you both come in,” chimed Amdirlain, and she stepped out of the way to beckon them inside.

She followed them to the living room and sat first at Moradin’s insistence, and Sage quickly perched on the armchair to her left.

“It is good to see you again, Goddess,” beamed Sage.

Amdirlain sighed. “Sage, please stop using that term; I’m not a Deity.”

“Amdirlain, all of your celestials know that Ebusuku is just waiting to hand you back the Mantle. Whatever your current state, you’re the Goddess that gave us our freedom or set events in motion that allowed others to come into existence,” insisted Sage, leaning forward to clasp her hand.

“We could argue about the critical parts others played in the past, but let’s focus on the now,” stated Amdirlain.

As Sage went to argue, Amdirlain raised an eyebrow, and he changed his question. “Will you be working with the teams, or do you have something else planned?”

“At present, I’m marked by two auras whose concealments I need to keep renewing to be in the company of many celestials,” said Amdirlain.

“The murderous one that screams of wanton carnage and the twisted one that feels like the death of light,” acknowledged Sage. “Erwarth spoke of them.”

“Those auras aside, I see you’re getting some of your old strength back, Amdirlain,” said Moradin. “Have you been to the plinth yet?”

“Yes. The news wasn’t as good as I’d hoped, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as I feared,” admitted Amdirlain. “The plinth couldn’t see beneath my Hidden state, so it's only things I’ve done since first arriving in the Abyss. Yet I wasn’t careful enough in sending mortals home from the Abyss, and they took diseases with them.”

Moradin grunted in sympathy. “Not good, still, what’s done is done. Any chance you can identify some worlds involved?”

“I don’t know their names but heard their songs while caught up in the plinth’s judgement,” explained Amdirlain.

“I’ll get some Mortal folk to organise for plague curing. If you can open gates to the worlds, we might head off the spread,” stated Moradin. “It's not guaranteed, as they need to be worlds where a Dwarf can survive.”

“Thank you; that’s hope they presently don’t have. The plinth showed me Gideon’s projections but only counted me responsible for the deaths of those who’ve already perished,” admitted Amdirlain in a whisper, feeling a weight of regret shiting within her. “Whoever you could help would be greatly appreciated; I felt their suffering.”

“Ah, child, Orhêthurin’s judgemental side did you no favours. When you can, perhaps I’ll get you to help with some of the new projects I’ve in mind; bringing life into existence should help offset some of that weight. The Titan isn’t the only one he lets make worlds in his realm; if you have the strength, you need to follow the rules,” replied Moradin, and his expression turned grim. “This brings me to why I’m here: a world Sage has on his list to cleanse was my creation.”

“Is there anyone left to rescue?” asked Amdirlain.

Moradin sighed. “Not even a speck of life; it was so long ago the physical undead fell apart. The only thing left are the spirits wandering about, screeching in tormented rage. The sun will last billions of years, but even the deepest and smallest of the world’s sea life is gone. There is no cleansing daylight within the ocean depths, and the spirits hunt freely.”

Amdirlain looked across at Sage. “I take it no work has started on it yet?”

“Our efforts have focused on the worlds that still have some mortals left to save,” admitted Sage.

“I’ll take care of this world. It gives me a place to experiment with songs that might restore life,” said Amdirlain. “Though I’ll need to hear a world that’s alive so I can learn the interlocking themes of organisms. I’d considered Cemna, but it has large dead areas.”

“You need a pristine world?” asked Moradin, and he frowned when Amdirlain nodded. “That I can’t immediately help with until I finish my current project. My youngest world has civilisations present that would stop you from entering.”

“There is a more recent world on the list that’s in better shape than Cemna,” offered Sage. “While civilisation has broken down, mortal groups are still fighting for survival. We’ve teams working unseen to protect their communities while others drive back the hordes, and we work to find the gates—it's been slow going.”

The admission caused Sage’s good humour to fade.

“One reason I came here was to study the connection to Limbo, so I could help locate other planar connections,” explained Amdirlain. The news brought out Sage’s smile, and Amdirlain gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “I’ll help find them, but I’ll leave the work of closing them to your teams.”

“I’m not concerned about who closes them as long as the worlds are safe,” insisted Sage.

“The more powerful celestials working with you, the more places we can keep safe,” advised Amdirlain. “While I wouldn’t want to interfere with anyone’s achievements, I can offer a counter to the hordes, though it’s neither discreet nor subtle.”

“How much time would it take to prepare the counter?”

“The artefacts are ready now; it’ll only require deployment,” advised Amdirlain.

Sage eagerly rose to his feet. “Shall we?”

“I can go to any of the worlds on your list now, so it makes no difference to me where we talk,” replied Moradin.

“One day, I might get you to explain the rules that govern allowable activities for avatars,” commented Amdirlain.

Moradin’s gaze gleamed. “I look forward to the day when you need such advice.”

“Do you know where the Outlands’ Gate for the world is located?” enquired Amdirlain hopefully.

Sage raised a cautioning hand. “The world’s connection is only a Portal.”

“Yeah, and blind jumps aren’t good,” groaned Amdirlain. “Alright, if you’d please open a Gate, Sage. Though I’ll bug you to show me the connection point later. The more natural ones I have to study, the quicker I can isolate mechanisms to search for them. While I know it's possible, I still need to work out the how and test it.”

Sage’s Gate delivered them to a rugged mountainside with glimmering quartz peeking out of dull tan rock. Stretching out Resonance, Amdirlain caught complex orchestras within the landscape from lichen and crevices filled with windblown soil and nodded in satisfaction.

“Were there dwarves on this world, Moradin?”

“None of my children and the only survivors are a species similar to Vehtë’s Stonekin—what the humans call gnomes,” replied Moradin. “Their ability to slip through stone and bring it to life makes them tough foes for the physical undead to pin down. Likewise, the earthen energies prevent the spectral types from immediately leeching their life away.”

“So their main losses came from demonic forces?”

“Correct,” acknowledged Sage. “But Orcus favours undead forces and negative energies, even tainting his demonic servants. Did you want to see a settlement?”

Amdirlain gave him a tight smile. “Take me to wherever the biggest fighting is going on; Moloch’s force will get a break for a little while.”

Mention of the Demon Lord drew a frown from Sage. “What do you mean?”

“We don’t have an unlimited supply of the armaments, so where are things hardest pressed?”

“An old capital. We think it might be the location of the original gates or at least one hub of the cult’s activity. With how many beings perished in the opening weeks of the assault, they’ve got a lot of accumulated souls to bind into troops,” explained Sage.

Amdirlain’s smile turned predatory. “Let’s start there. Teleport when ready.”

Sage shifted them to a ridge overlooking a broad, shallow valley. The city's original layout was impossible to determine—besides the destruction, years of neglect and flooding had the city’s roads and laneways awash with mud. Various mounds and hills of shattered stone were all that remained of the city’s buildings, and battlelines shifted back and forth across the debris.

The scene before them was a mud-churned landscape, the air filled with the clamour of clashing weapons and battle cries. The celestials driving back the horde had left shattered, bone-covered mounds in their wake. Though days after their destruction, the energies of the Negative Material Plane and their stench still lingered.

The hordes of Schir under Orcus’ banners were gaunt compared to those she’d seen in Moloch’s territories. Their chain hauberks hung loose on what should have been muscular frames though their hooked glaives didn’t waver in their grips and repeatedly clashed with those wielded by assorted archons serving dozens of deities.

Fighting overhead, flights of skeletal winged succubi possessed bodies spare of flesh, with skin tight across muscle and bone, their pupils the sullen ember pinpricks of the undead. They weren’t the only demonic flyers clashing with the angels, but the degree of their distortion drew Amdirlain’s attention. The energies within them had twisted the unnatural lusts that heated normal succubi towards craving the consumption of life.

Opposing them, angels with brilliant white wings sent shattered bodies to add to the mess among the ruins. The decomposing demonic flesh tainted the land, and even lying broken, their black blood fought with the glowing blood from Celestial wounds.

Ritual magic crackled in a stalemate that flexed back and forth across the battlefield, wounding contingents whenever it shifted. Celestials that fell were whisked away, many in time to receive healing, but a few to avoid their corpses being claimed by their foes. Though it was clear the celestials were slowly driving the demonic forces back, the more they retreated, the greater the pressure that opposed the heavens.

Even now, after a decade of fighting, the battle lines stretched the length of the river valley. Continual reinforcements from the Abyss stopped the Celestial armies from securing the metropolis that had once housed millions. Though Resonance didn’t have enough reach to isolate the gates’ locations, the points within the city with the most defenders were obvious.

Though the song to deploy them to a world differed from that used on the local Plane, the outcome was the same. The platform shifted into position beneath the slope, and Amdirlain heard the sensors feeding the embodied Soul details on the demonic forces. The first towers erupted from the earth, with the Gatling guns spinning up to speed. Others, capped with the armaments Sarah had invented from scratch, joined the rising wave and unleashed a torrent of projected blasts that ripped those demons behind the front lines apart.

As the first operators gained additional towers, mortar platforms, and cannons, Amdirlain set more in place. Each new cluster expanded at an increasing pace mowing down undead and demons alike; for every tower destroyed, three or more replaced it.

At times the tower’s weapons shifted towards moving celestials only to decimate the forces they’d been targeting. Despite not recognising the celestials, the slimes ignored the competition they deemed too slow to steal their food, snatching prizes left, right, and centre.

“What did you create these for?” asked Moradin. “I can feel the souls seeking demonic foes.”

“Purging a Plane, so this undertaking is far smaller,” admitted Amdirlain. “Each group of towers is controlled by previously damned Soul earning its fresh start.”

Moradin gave a full belly laugh. "You have that alike; in neither of your lives did you think small."

“Do you have enough to complete an enclosure of the ruins?” asked Sage.

“Easily,” confirmed Amdirlain. “I’ve triggered a recall that will bring all units back to their bases. I take it you want the towers to blockade them so you can have battalions focus on cutting the support?”

Sage pointed to the left. “If you run the towers that way until you hit the lake, there are scores of places we suspect hold gates.”

“It won’t have to be just me, hold up a minute,” Amdirlain advised, and she dumped boxes of needles to the ground and set beacons within them. “Have someone stick them in the ground, and they’ll call in support.”

“Are you stealing all the experience, Amdirlain?” chided Sage brightly.

“I don’t get any of the combat experience. That’s claimed by the towers’ controllers and fuels their second chance,” corrected Amdirlain. “If this planet weren’t inhabited, I wouldn’t suggest this approach; getting the Celestial forces stronger is more important. Those I’m making earn redemption have more than enough enemies in the Abyss to fight.”

Following Sage’s instructions, dozens of angels and archons planted the beacons along the battlefront. As more and more towers appeared, Orcus’ forces deployed stronger demons to the battlefront.

Finally handing out the last crate of needles, Amdirlain took in a man standing a dozen metres away on the ridgeline. Clad in a set of centurion armour made from golden celestial steel, he held a pilum lightly in his right hand. Absent was the crested centurion helm, letting Amdirlain see the brunette curls of hair that matched his beard. His armour and classic Roman profile made her sure of his identity.

“I see you’re still coming up with ways to spare others' battle wounds, Amdirlain,” Mars observed, and he motioned at the expanding towers. “Though they no longer serve you, your former celestials rejoiced at your arrival, and not just for these impressive additions, I’m sure.”

“You could consider them more a very aggressive fence to protect the fields for mortals,” offered Amdirlain, remembering Mars’ role as a God of agriculture and soldiers.

“Oh, I’m sure you don’t use them merely to protect. I can sense all the violence those weapons atop the towers have inflicted,” countered Mars. “I could witness this through my commanders, but I had to come and see it for myself.”

“For years, I wasn’t sure why I earned your approval,” admitted Amdirlain.

“Lerina, no, she was still using Ebusuku then, mentioned your uncertainty to Aloysius when your Domain gained its towers in the Outlands. However, I’m more interested in how these towers come about. While I can see the Mana in the weaponry, I can’t see any when the towers grow,” remarked Mars.

“Lerina still makes use of Ebusuku among her friends. The towers are a True Song creation. It's not a Spell, but a change to reality to add new stone,” advised Amdirlain. “That’s not to say it can’t produce Mana, but it doesn’t need to for these towers.”

Mars’ fingers flexed, and he lifted the pilum from the ground; he turned to face her and Moradin. “True Song? I’m finding more and more things in this realm that I’m ignorant of since Ebusuku arranged the lifting of my accorded restrictions. I sense these towers are harvesting a strange crop for you, Amdirlain. What mystery does that involve?”

His words drew an amused snort from Moradin. “You’re a late comer Mars, I came along early enough, and I still find surprises about the place.”

“The Titan is eternally busy creating new worlds with thousands of aspects helping him, so I doubt we will ever keep up with all the mysteries he adds,” warns Amdirlain, glad to let the conversation flow away from the crop of redeemed souls. Floating within a Celestial Slime, every level they gained increased the energy purifying their Soul’s nature.

“Mysteries indeed, but you’ve added enough of them, Amdirlain. I find myself increasingly curious about you. I understand you’re to thank for Ebusuku breaking myself and others free of the accords,” notes Mars.

Amdirlain shrugged. “We’d spoken about freeing several gods before Apollo trapped me.”

“Trapped and killed you, yet here you are again.”

“Technically, I killed myself in his trap, and since I died stripping my Mantle away to give it to Ebusuku, I ended up in his Maze where the celestials endure promotion trials.”

“Would Athena be in there as well?” asked Mars, his gaze bright with interest. “Minerva said she died after stripping her Mantle away.”

“Every deity who dies separating themselves from even part of their Mantle ends up in there,” advised Amdirlain, unsure if Hestia and Athena intentionally kept her state a secret from others in the new pantheon. “Though most of the occupants are pseudo-powers whose worshippers die out before they joined the ranks of gods.”

“And gods who died with them in place?”

Amdirlain gave a grim smile. “Dead, and their essence gets drawn into the Mantle.”

“Good, I prefer it when enemies stay dead. But Athena, how can I free her?” asked Mars

“Why the interest in Athena? Aren’t you married?” asked Moradin.

“I remained faithful to my wife despite being tricked into that marriage, but since the Gods’ War, she just sits, her attention lost within her Mantle,” snapped Mars. His skin became flushed, and his voice hardened. “It’s so very ironic. Anna Perenna, the giver of life and plenty, now sits there almost lifeless, unresponsive to questions. Her solars say they still receive instructions mentally, but she doesn’t speak or move, caught up in whatever she did to survive the Gods’ War. Every time I visit her Domain, I half expect to find she’s no more.”

Moradin's gaze didn’t shift from Mars. “So you’re lining up a replacement wife for when she dies?”

“That’s not what I’m after; I’m trying to fix her situation. Athena was a Goddess of wisdom. I tried to get Minerva to help me with Anna, but the vaunted wisdom she shared was worthless.”

Amdirlain paused and recalled her dad's advice to Mal before his wedding. “Looking at it from the perspective of trying to fix the situation isn’t the right way. Have you tried only listening? If your attention is always drawn to what you can fix for a woman, it tells her that her problems are more interesting to you than she is. When she talks about things that have happened, she’s not looking for answers but to share.”

“What do you mean?”

Suppressing a sigh, Amdirlain gave a rueful smile. “Look, I’ve never had a successful relationship; that was the advice my father gave my brother when he married. What wisdom did Minerva give you?”

“I needed to stop fighting the foe before me and stop to see the entire battlefield. Which is ridiculous—I wasn’t fighting anything, and Anna just shut me out,” growled Mars, and he jabbed his spear towards the battlefield where a group of balors had emerged. “Just thinking about her disappearing after surviving the war makes me furious. Do you want to join this fray with me, Amdirlain?”

“Crushing demons and undead isn’t something I object to, but I don’t normally fight with someone,” cautioned Amdirlain, and she saw the slight downturn of Mars’ mouth. “I’d come with Moradin and Sage to discuss other matters; I shouldn’t leave them waiting to have some fun.”

“If you crave battle, our talk can wait,” urged Moradin. “I’ll see if I can find you a pristine world another’s made, or one that the Titan has set loose. While I work on that, there are simple lifeforms left upon this world to listen to.”

Sage nodded. “And I can lead you to Moradin’s world later once you’re ready to experiment.”

Smiling at Mars, Amdirlain shrugged. “It seems they’re both saying your offer is one I can’t refuse.”

“Show me your Fallen form, Amdirlain,” said Mars. “Hidden as you are, I can’t see your form or hear the auras you’ve concealed, but we’re on a battlefield, and I can tell a soldier’s strength.”

“One of my auras can cause fear in angels, and I’ve grown much stronger since I tested it last,” cautioned Amdirlain.

Mars waved her concern aside. “Then shoo them away from here, and we’ll have to pick a spot for fighting that no angel treads. Deep among the ruins near a stronghold, perhaps? We can fight together and take a toll of blood from foes. Show me your form so I can see the real face of the one I’d fight beside.”

At Mars’ words, the closest angels and archons moved away, but Sage remained. “You told Ebusuku it impacts those who are Astral Deva and below.”

As if his comment was an invitation, a trio of familiar solars appeared, their breastplates marked with the candle and broken chains. Their five-metre height and wings put the four who’d been talking into shadow.

Nûr’s full lips offered a temptress’ smile. “You’ve come out to play Amdirlain?”

Fainil bounced eagerly on her toes, her silver braid swaying on her shoulder, and Calithil offered the same melancholy smile that Amdirlain remembered.

“We’ll do something about the balors’ stronghold,” replied Amdirlain, and she shrugged out into her proper form and let the concealments drop away.

“Bloody wrath,” growled Mars in appreciation.

Though Ilya had kept Amdirlain using the form, she hadn’t truly considered the height changes scores of levels had added until now. The trio of Solars no longer loomed but seemed childlike, only reaching her lower chest, the expanse of her wings, with their gold, black, and blood-red feathers shadowing them instead.

Pulling the Yang aspect of Jade Court Mana into Ki Infusion, she started to circulate, and flames glowed beneath her skin, causing the phoenix pattern to dust her gold-bronze skin with a motif of blazing feathers. As she idly flexed her wings, the golden core within her feathers seemed to burn through the black and red that soiled them. Amdirlain’s glow ran from her feet to her hair, and its light shone through the weave of the shadow vines’ clothing. The surrounding air that had stubbornly kept the stench of the nearby undead’s remains became alive with spring’s promise.

“You should know I shapeshift a lot; tentacles, claws, and extra mouths, that sort of thing,” Amdirlain casually remarked.

At Amdirlain’s pronouncement, Mars' brows lifted in surprise. “You’ve got a beautiful form, yet you’d fight as a monster? Let’s see if this limited avatar can keep up with you. With luck, he’ll tire of sending out fledgling balors and provide us something fun.”