Abyssal Road Trip - 577 - Breach

Amdirlain’s PoV - Vehtë

The paper she’d taken with her had the details of a bronze job, so she’d left Gurn in Laški.

He’s probably going to be caught up in the drama with Lord Plamen.

Amdirlain looked over the report of a giant trapdoor spider outside another small hamlet, but aside from killing one bull, no one else had fallen prey to it. She’d picked details of its rough location from Zivena’s mind, and touched on others to fine-tune her cross-country path as she flew. The place was fifty kilometres to the southeast, and a merchant had carried news of the job to Laški months earlier.

As she got closer, there wasn’t the theme of a Mana-affected creature coming through her filtering. After making some adjustments, she found the tones of an alien world and a recent burst of spatial energy. The alien tones came from a multiclass arachnoid who out-levelled the whole hamlet combined. Despite its overwhelming threat, it had constructed a well-concealed hide in the thick woodlot to the west of the hamlet and hidden for weeks. The hamlet’s centre was a rough cluster of three rough timber buildings and a U-shaped fenced yard across from them before the nearest fields started. Churned-up marks in the yard’s soft earth showed that an overnighting caravan had been present that morning. The rest of the area’s inhabitants lived in fortified compounds set back from the road and surrounded by their fields. Scores of dirt tracks formed by the repeated trips of wagons and carts linked the compounds to the paved thoroughfare laid by the Republic authorities.

They link everyone up, but then leave subsidiary roads up to the locals. The inn lacks protective walls, but there is an armoured bolthole in the basement.

Amdirlain landed near the southernmost fields and roughly duplicated Gurn’s paperwork, but with a handwritten appearance to avoid future questions. With it tucked away, she walked along the road’s edge, eyeing the reeds in the drainage ditch while covertly tracking those in the fields who’d observed her landing. The fields to the west held a mix of goats and cows, while those to the east of the road were a mix of wheat, rye, and beans. 

Her approach passed a simple barn with a rudimentary hayloft that served as a stable for guests. From the narrow inn’s front steps, she could see through the open-sided smithery on the other side that joined to a single enclosed room for the Smith’s living space. The rectangular inn was as narrow as a crowded city brownstone, despite the ample space available. Across the front, a narrow door and four unglazed windows were evenly spaced. Inside, there were eight empty tables spread between pillars in the elongated front—the trestle bar at the back of the space connected to a small kitchen via a hutch. On the left, unvarnished stairs led to the sleeping loft, which ran the length of the upper floor. The owner’s rooms were in a semi-attached annex beyond the kitchen. The buildings were scantily inhabited, with four melodies in the inn, one in the stable’s hayloft, and another in the smithy.

A thin, grey-haired man in rough brown cotton clothing was the only person visible, positioned at the bar. He kept himself busy wiping a clay mug with a grungy cloth, which didn’t make it any cleaner.

The door rattled behind her as Amdirlain strode straight to the bar. “Are you the owner?”

“Yeah, my name’s Cassius,” Cassius slurred. The scent of harsh liquor rose from his skin, and a squeak came from the mug as the cloth slipped. “Don’t see many elves stopping here.”

“You’ve got a job about a giant spider posted with the Adventurers’ Guild.” Amdirlain laid the job sheet on the bar.

“How much help did you bring?”

“I can deal with it alone. What evidence would you like?” Amdirlain showed him her iron-ranked card, causing Cassius to swallow hard.

“The spider had these weird, bladed forelimbs; the folk that saw it will recognise them, I’m sure.”

Amdirlain filled in the blank on the form and turned it in for his review. “Sign just above the middle line if you agree to the conditions. When I bring the bladed forelimbs back, you’ll need to sign at the bottom so I can report success to the guild.”

“I should get one of those who saw it to sign.”

“Are you paying for the job, or are they?”

Cassius’s frantic gaze jumped about on the paper, and his lips moved silently, sounding out the simpler words. “My bull got killed, but they’re the ones who told the caravan master the details.”

He can’t read it, so let me give him an out.

“Ahh, so you want someone who witnessed it to sign off to make sure no details got missed. That’s understandable, and they can witness my paperwork as well.” Amdirlain left the papers in place and perched on a stool. “Is there someone else who can get them, or do they show up at a particular time of day?”

The tension left Cassius, and he smiled sheepishly. “The granddaughter can fetch ‘em.”

As he limped and shuffled to the kitchen hutch, the kitchen hand rushed from the building, and her hurried footsteps pounded on dry earth. The young woman’s course took her across the grazing field and towards the nearest farmhouse. She wore a simple yet sturdy greyish-white dress and, despite the warmth, had a red scarf over her lower face.

That scarf is about the only dyed cloth in this place.

“Figured she’d listen in,” Cassius snorted in amusement. “She doesn’t like to talk in front of strangers, but she’ll be back soon. Drink?”

“Not before hunting a monster,” Amdirlain replied diplomatically.

Cassius grunted. “Suit yourself. Didn’t expect a fancy adventurer to come deal with a bug.”

“Something with a thorax the length of a man’s upper body, and poison that liquefies a cow, isn’t to be taken lightly. You’re lucky I was taking care of other jobs, or with the price you offered, no one would have come.” 

“It killed my bull, not a cow,” Cassius corrected. “The silvers offered are all the spare coin I have, and it’s going to cost me a bit to get a new bull, let alone a good sire. Easy enough to get a male, but some need their balls snipped to get them to settle enough to not want to kill you on sight.”

“I’ll admit I’ve not had a lot of experience with livestock,” Amdirlain said.

“You see it with idiot town breeders who keep their bulls in tiny pens. Poor beasts can’t get away from people, so they get used to pushing back. Once they get that aggression in their bones, there ain’t no way to get them to let it go without cutting their balls.”

Amdirlain sat and listened as Cassius unburdened himself about the challenges of his livestock.

Isn’t this supposed to go the other way? So much for the stereotype of bartenders listening to your problems.

He was still talking when a murmur of voices from outside rose as his granddaughter returned with two men in tow. She let herself into the kitchen, and they split off to continue around the front. Shortly after the side door clattered again, two dusty fellows scrubbed mud from their boots on the edge of the front steps. Their dark hair contained sun-bleached streaks from long hours in the sun, and their leathery skin stretched over thin features. They wore cloth outfits like Cassius’s rough garments, and boots that had been repeatedly resoled.

The eldest had flecks of grey hidden among the blond streaks, and he motioned to the man who followed him.

“I’m Darijo, and this here is my son Vitislav. He was milking the cows when the spider showed up. You needed to know details, right?”

“And she’s got paperwork to sign off.” Cassius twitched the form Amdirlain offered off to one side, where the pair could see it.

“Not going to need any other help?” Vitislav asked.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Glad you’re here. We’ve been keeping the goats away from the woods, but we’ve got a few that like to escape.” Darijo plopped down on the bench beside a table.

Vitislav walked forward and rubbed the back of his neck as he looked over the form. “It was early morning, and the air looked like frost, then there was this massive spider in the middle of the field. A really weird grey and black spider with sickles instead of front legs, or maybe along with its normal set of legs. The bull bellowed and charged, but the thing knocked it over like swatting a fly and bit it with these long, curved fangs that had just popped out. Before the bull had finished bellowing, the spider ran off. By the time the thing made the woodlot, the bull had blood pouring from its mouth and the wounds. Before I could think to help, it collapsed inwards, like dropping a shirt on the ground.”

“Did anyone check the tracks?” Amdirlain asked.

Vitislav looked up from the paper and took an ink stylus from her. “These details are right. The cows panicked and barreled through a few fences, and so we lost a lot of sunlight. By the time we got organised to look, we found churned-up ground heading in both directions along the woods and no tracks that matched the field.”

Cassius made a simple mark after Vitislav’s name.

“How big?”

He pulled a face and put a hand just above his hip before lifting it to the top of his head. “I think the bulging rear part of its body would be that long. It had a mix of grey fuzz with black spots over its body.”

“I’ll be back with its bladed forearms shortly,” Amdirlain said. “It will be simple for my spells to detect an unusual spider that big.”

Since she’d given people time to notice, or be told about, her presence, once outside, she flew towards the woods.

Gideon, how did a spider from an alien world come to be here?

“An enemy Wizard used an object that made his foes disappear.”

Alright, that explains why the residual energy feels close to World Step. Was it an Aspect playing games that sent them here?

“While aspects could have been involved in such an occurrence, this was simply random chance and happened before you arrived on this world. The concepts are not under my purview.”

Amdirlain landed ten metres away from the camouflaged den the spider had created and tossed pebbles at the hatch of webbing covered in grasses.

“Come out, and talk.”

Its sickle blade lifted the panel, and red eyes gleamed at her from the shadowed depths.

“It’s okay. No one else is around but me. Let’s talk. What happened before you arrived here?” Amdirlain sent a safe, reassuring pulse.

He unfolded himself from the lair. With his legs properly extended, his eyes were at the same height as Amdirlain’s. After swivelling about to confirm there weren’t others, he turned back to her. Clicks and whistles came from the spider’s maw as his mandibles tapped against each other.

“We were scouring foes from the hills when a bubble enveloped me, and I found myself here. As I looked around, a strange four-legged beast with things sticking from its head tried to run over me as others of its kind fled. There were also two-legged ones, somewhat like you, who fled with them.”

She caught the image of formithians from his mind and restrained a sigh of frustration.

Given how many planets they’re spread across throughout the realm, it shouldn’t be a surprise that they seem as common as goblins.

“And then you opted to hide?”

“I hoped to return home, but lack the magic to do so. While hidden here, I’ve called for others, but they’ve not responded to my spells.”

“Do your people use names?”

The spider’s forelimbs lifted into the sunlight through the canopy, and their metallic edges glinted. “Talons-glinting-in-the-sun.”

“I’m called Amdirlain. Shall we get you home?”

“How do you know where I live?”

“I’ve magic that lets me determine such things. My only question is, would you accept help against the invaders pushing your people out?”

He pinged his bladed limbs together. “I would for the sake of my people.” 

Amdirlain opened a Gate to the grassland outside her Domain, and a pair of Enyalië appeared. “Hi, Mother. We get him home and scout, right?”

“Winged ones, scout for me?” Talons-glinting-in-the-sun studied the Enyalië, his legs bent until his underbelly brushed the grass.

“Do your people know about the planes?”

“Where the gods and their servants live. You can get servants of an elven deity to help us?”

Amdirlain motioned towards the Enyalië. “Talk to them, and decide if you’ll accept their help to free your home from the formithians. Those are the strange bug-like creatures you fought in the foothills.”

He folded his bladed limbs inwards, and his mandibles clicked softly. “That is the name of my people’s enemy? You saw them in my mind when I told you what happened?”

“Yes, to both your questions,” Amdirlain nodded. “Your people were defending their lands, and the formithians don’t accept the rights of other species. That you feel shame for killing when no food is to be gained says good things about you.”

He rose and walked through the Gate, his body at an odd angle as he kept his head lowered to Amdirlain’s daughters. Once he was through, she sealed it up and considered the evidence she wanted. She duplicated his forelimbs, tore up the undergrowth and bark on nearby trees, and left a seared patch of ground in a small glade in case someone came scouting later. With the apparent traces in place, she teleported back to the inn.

“You’re back already?”

“Yeah, it’s easier to move to somewhere I’ve already been,” Amdirlain explained. Holding the limbs carefully, she placed them at the end of the bar. “Such an unusual specimen stood out among the woods; it had carved itself a little trapdoor lair.”

Vitislav hefted one and whistled appreciatively.

“They look longer than I expected.” Vitislav measured his forearm against the leading hook. “I've seen nothing like them. I wonder if you could fashion a scythe from one of these.”

“They’re worth more than the coins you’ve paid for ending its threat.” Amdirlain stored them away.

Vitislav and Cassius signed off on the job, and Amdirlain set off.

She spent the rest of the day swooping around the local area and took out another four poorly paying jobs before returning to Laški. She deliberately slipped through the north gate just before it closed for the day. As she entered, the nervous glances from the guards were obvious, so she mingled with the press of people on the town’s streets. While some were on the way home from work, others were buying food or drinking in pubs. A few of the later ones she passed had their windows wide open, and bards playing loudly enough for their music to carry for blocks. Those closest to the guild contained an abundance of adventurers. From their thoughts, Amdirlain caught the details of the lord’s trial and shipment to the Republic capital for review and potential execution. 

They don’t dilly-dally.

When the guild came into sight, she dispatched a Message to Gurn, letting him know she was handing in the day’s tasks. Despite the crowds of adventurers that the guild had kept in town for the trial, there were still groups presenting evidence or material when Amdirlain arrived. She eventually made it to the counter and started on the paperwork with Zivena. She was storing payment for the third job when Gurn arrived, and the looming Orc’s presence terminated all the chatter among those waiting.

He slipped past those who had joined the line after Amdirlain and leaned on the partition of Zivena’s section. “I thought you’d ditched me already, and yet you want to plan some jobs?”

“You didn’t need to come check on me. I handled a little spider and some other minor threats today. Since they weren’t above iron, I didn’t drag you with me,” Amdirlain replied, setting the last sheet of her handwritten paperwork on the counter.

He tsked reprovingly. “You created a half-arsed version of mine.”

“You were somewhere in the crowd, and figured today’s jobs didn’t need perfect paperwork.” Amdirlain turned towards him and leaned against the opposition partition. “I got four jobs signed off using the handwritten copy, so it isn’t a big deal.”

“How tiny was the spider?”

“Its abdomen was only a metre long,” Amdirlain replied.

“You’ve a strange idea of only,” Zivena rolled her eyes. “If I met a spider that big, you’d hear my screams on the other side of the world.”

Gurn glanced at the paper before Zivena. “Do you have spells to copy pages?”

“Yes.”

He set a copy of his form on the counter. “You can give me two.”

Amdirlain released a stack of blank pages onto the countertop, and ink appeared across each to match his template. She handed him the top three before stowing the others.

“You like to over-deliver, don’t you?” Gurn asked. “Did the discussion with Marcin go well?”

“Yes, on both counts.”

“What job do you want to handle tomorrow?”

“Jobs. A couple of towns want their caves checked to ensure no goblins or critters have moved in. No evidence, disappearance, or tracks, so they’re not offering much. They want the caves checked just to be safe.”

“Without the potential for loot, it’s less attractive unless the team is travelling to another job,” Gurn said. “Also, how do you prove to the person hiring that you checked all the caves? The job can be smooth or a headache if you get a local fusspot.”

“Then maybe we’ll just get one of them done tomorrow,” Amdirlain sighed.

“You’re already well ahead of the schedule you mentioned of a few jobs a day.” Zivena passed over the coins for the last job she updated in her ledger.

♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫

Amdirlain’s PoV - Outlands 

Around Amdirlain, thousands of black dots marked the thresholds of gates, beyond which her will created clouds of gases for future stars and planets. As her Avatar opened the Gate for Talons-glinting-in-the-sun, two of the Enyalië moved to greet the arachnoid and opened a Gate to get him home. With allegiance bonds connecting the three of them, her daughters followed him through the Gate, providing reports back of the world beyond. Their Resonance caught the spread of hives on other continents and temples to the Formithian pantheon. Amdirlain left them to it as they began sending the invaders back to their home planets.

How long do I give Tingeth before I break into Hell?

Sarah kissed the back of her neck. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“I know you’re on more worlds than you have avatars. How do you manage?”

“It’s cute that it has taken you this long to get around to asking,” Sarah chuckled. “You can still be so stubborn about some things.”

“Having an Avatar at all isn’t my favourite approach, and now I have three.”

“Once you start, you can’t stop. I don’t use avatars to visit any world except the ones I’ve visited with you. My only use for an Avatar is supervising fights where I don’t need to be there in person and visiting deities whom I don’t trust.” Sarah enfolded Amdirlain in a warm embrace. “What’s on your mind?”

“The Fey courts and orcs are warring with the formithians, and even though I gave them tools to even the odds, I still feel like I should do more.”

“Yet your avatars are all caught up with other projects. The potential for demons or devils to show up here has your foot pinned to the floor,” Sarah said.

“Yes.”

Sarah kissed her cheek. “Welcome to the ultimate resource management game. I can handle teaching magic on Yorubi to free up your Avatar there. What you’ve shared makes the Ontaritu oddly intriguing, and since there are no dragons, it makes it a safe place for me to stick my nose in. I’ll even stay here and guard your Domain along with one of your avatars whenever you want to deal with Mother Dearest.”

“What I have planned for her is a bit of a gamble.” Amdirlain leaned back against her.

“Not as much as relying on her schemes to destroy your devilish enemies. I understand your trust in Lil, but it doesn’t mean my scheming mother isn’t after you both.”

“I know. You’ll at least be happy to know that I’m going to let the clock run out on my offer of an Avatar duel. If the Tyrant accepts that at the eleventh hour, I’ll yank her chains some more,” Amdirlain clarified.

Sarah smiled viciously. “Propose a location and a time that is further along still, then do a no-show? Can I tease her?”

Amdirlain nodded. “Yes to both, but only after I’m done sneaking behind her back.”