Asheron's Fall: The Power of Ten, Book Six

Aethra’s Salute passed us by, and we headed south and west, down towards and along the beach to what was once considered the most elite city of the Sho, a well-developed harbor.

We left the Villa behind to be used in the future. I had severely impressed the scouts by converting all the extra stone the lugians had heaped up as crude fortifications into an actual wall around the structure, as well as fixing the pipework of the fountain so the water was pure and clear and constant, instead of a trickle.

I doubted anything would set up a permanent camp there, as putting on locks or something was pointless. The crazed shades of Tou-Tou swept down all the coasts and hills irregularly but frequently, and were happy to light into anything living they stumbled across. The lugians had only dared put up the rocks for their little trick and trap, and weren’t planning anything long-term.

The likelihood of lugian raiders increased the further west we went, but they tended to keep to the hills, having a dislike for water. The race was heavier than water and so swam like bricks, meaning they tended to avoid anything other than the shallowest water. Indeed, a drowning death seemed to be considered one of their most feared ways to die.

Thus, we weren’t expecting anything too radical on the way. Hea hunters might come this far south on a devoted mission or raid, but it was unlikely, and they’d run into interference from the wild tribes of banderlings, monugas, and drudges once the influence of the shades started to wane.

If something wanted to get in our way here, well, they were in for a bad time.

The scouts were largely riding on top of the Wagon, bows and crossbows out and enjoying not having to hoof it. The creatures we met on the way were sniped off and their Summons points vivisized so they wouldn’t prove to be a deterrent in the future, as we expected travel along the coast to increase considerably once Princess Kristie proved the Shoreward could be breached and we could travel across the waters to the Vesayan Islands where the last stronghold of the Isparian humans was.

With multiple archers picking off things along the way, there wasn’t much to do for the first ten miles, and we set a good pace.

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Princess Kristie held up her hand, and the Mick and I slowed down behind her. The archers, who’d doubtless been getting a little sleepy in the cool night and wind going by on the silent and gentle ride they were on, stirred upon us slowing down, looking around in the night to see the cause.

There was a large inlet ahead of us, a break in the line of hills that came down to it from the north, before turning around and going up to the southeast to form the eastern half of the Tou-Tou peninsula.

“Anything special about this place?” she asked Lord Mick as we came up beside her.

“… was used by smugglers to offload stuff t’ take t’ Hebian-to without taking the road from Mayoi an’ the taxes there. There’s an old trail up off the shore an’ through the break in the hills there, leads right down t’ the road t’ the old Sho capital an’ me uncle. Totally overrun with wild tribes an’ things clashing over the territory now, o’ course,” he informed her without a shred of care.

“So, I’m guessing a camp there is either very normal and not going to last long, or very abnormal?” She pointed ahead, but there was no fire or anything in the darkness that he could see, so we fed him our Devilsight, and the world lit up.

“I hae GOT t’ get me yer eyeballs,” Lord Mick murmured, studying the sight in the distance, more as Kris fed Essence to her Mask and the image of it leapt forward in response.

“A coral palisade? The moarsmen?” He was surprised. “Ho, roaches! How long since anyone ran through Heckler’s Cove here?”

There were quick murmurs from the scouts. “Been at least ten days, Lord Mick!” Selena reported quickly. “Rogar’s team may have gone past it, but we were mostly along the peninsula, sir!”

“Rogar’s the senior squad lead,” the Mick explained to us. “He ranges south out o’ Hebian-to, occasionally west all the way t’ the hills, marking whose territory is what. Most o’ the rogue tribes are territorial, but we try not t’ bug them, an’ they notice we kill the lugians an’ Hea if we can, so they won’t bother or track us unless we really bother them, an’ we will gang up with ‘em on the shades.”

“Tsk! Such friends in low places you make!” Kris just laughed.

“Aye, well, nobody is fooling anyone. They’d be as happy t’ put a spear in us as any o’ them, but the lugians an’ Hea have been expanding their writ an’ putting pressure on them. Since we ain’t going out o’ the way t’ kill them, they don’t go out of the way t’ kill us, especially if they can watch us kill grays an’reds. They are savages, nae completely stupid.”

“Can they be recruited at all? Mind you, I have an absolute lack of desire to recruit drudges after seeing Cragstone,” Kris inquired.

“We’ve tried with all o’ them at some point or t’other. The only ones we got anything workable with were the banderlings, who sometimes worked with me uncle’s kind of folks with raiding an’ banditry an’ thievin’. The drudges, now, couldn’t ever get them t’ do more than act submissive an’ be ready to stab you in the back if they thought they had the upper hand. There’s a reason the other tribes don’t have anything t’ do with them, an’ there’s very few o’ em who didn’t flock north in ecstasy when Bonecrusher took Cragstone.”

Kris’ knuckles popped rather loudly. I turned my head as there was a ripple in the water.

“We’ve been seen. They’ve got sentries sitting out in the shallows.”

“Aye, an’ mayhap we’ll go inta the water ta fight them there like total brave, honorable sorts,” he spat in return. “Can ye do anything?”

“Hydrous Spell can ignore the water/air boundary, but otherwise no. Spells will detonate against the surface of the water and basically do nothing, although the water IS shallow...” I narrowed my eyes thoughtfully. I hadn’t been able to get in any Rep Counts on my newest Meta, because Chain Spell was +III and so I needed IV Valence Slots to do a true Rep Count. However…

The watcher in the waters had shifted position, but that didn’t stop Detects, which didn’t care about the boundary, being able to go through it just like they could thin wood or vegetation. “Are we worried about showiness at this point?” I asked Kris.

“Archers need to see their targets,” she opined without hesitation. “I trust these things aren’t going to be much of a threat, Lord Mick?”

“The only things what the Shoreward lets get through after a lot o’ effort aren’t very strong,” he agreed, looking in the direction of the new fort. “Moarsmen are drawn t’ the service of the fell powers, be it Light or Dark. These ain’t serving none o’ the Light if they are here. One of Master Ben’s patrols would be along soon enough if word got out, but I see no reason not t’ save them the problem, Highness.”

“Oh, good. I was getting itchy about my Naming Karma.” She tilted her neck, shrugged her shoulders, and an impressive amount of crackling resulted. “Sure, be showy.”

I nodded. “Lights up!” The Eternal Lights all around the Wagon promptly lit up as they rolled out of internal storage, lighting up everything with reflector discs filling the area around with bright illumination for the shooters atop the Wagon.

Me, I brought down an Arc of Lightning with an emphatic Sung “Zojak Quasith!” in Sublime melody, right on top of that lurking watcher.

The moarsmen weren’t particularly vulnerable to Lightning, and it should have been completely protected, the spell grounding and dissipating uselessly, except for a point of minor mystical trivia.

A Chained Bolt of Lightning hitting the water immediately blew into a Burst in the water with a radius equal to the remaining Chains, plus twenty feet if including the primary Bolt.

This wasn’t a PoT Lightning Bolt, but even if the Burst was only five feet, it was getting a lot added to it, because my modified Caster Level was hitting a solid Twenty now with the Sublime Chord ringing out with the Truth of Creation.

Silver Lightning chiming like a glass orchestra descended upon the waters and blew through it in all directions for a good forty feet, illuminating a dark figure in the middle of it who writhed for a moment in shock at being smacked like that.

The Shards I’d had riding the Arc had just dumped their load into the resulting Burst. Likely it would have shrugged off just a Silver Lightning Arc, but with the additional kick, welp, the light of the lightning faded away, and a moment later something dark bobbed to the surface in the water out there.

“Nice,” Kris said without further expression, turning as fires started to light up at the end of the outlet, revealing the walls of the coral shrine for those on the Wagon. “Why don’t we wander over there and your scouts can show me their lousy aim, Lord Mick.”

“That be sounding like a fine idea. Ye roaches all hear that?”

“All ready, Lord Mick!” Selena promptly shouted back, testing the string on the composite Longbow in her hand, gleaming with the faint magic of the basic Runework that was left to them. Quite the iconic picture of an Aluvian archer she made, right down to the long golden braid.

Princess Kristie began to trot, picking up speed without her pace increasing at all. The Mick grimaced and worked on keeping up as best he might, starting to bounce with an energy he likely hadn’t had in many years, yet which came back to him with a casual ease that was amazing the scouts now lined up on the Wagon, the incredibly smooth ride meaning they didn’t fear losing their footing at all.

There was also the fact I was riding a Disk I’d whipped up and being towed along just like the Wagon was, completely at ease with what was happening.

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The moarsmen came boiling out to meet us in a proper loose horde of smelly, scaled, fish-headed, dead-eyed icthyoids, jaws with needle teeth and claws that might or might not have been doused with something nasty raised and ready to rip and tear.

Muculent Moarsman, 60’s. Technically above my Level, but not something I was greatly worried about.

Also, they were fish out of water. Princess Kristie, towing the Wagon, kited them effortlessly, turning the Wagon sideways as she did so. The line of scouts atop it said nothing as they began to unleash a devastating barrage while Kris skated backwards with ease and perfect control.

Lord Mick was towing me, and I flicked an undercast Haste on him, which would only affect a single person. Silver lightning danced over him, and his eyes widened as he began to really move.

The fish-men who tried to encircle him and catch him couldn’t possibly catch him, his movements as much flickers of motion as actually dodging back and forth. My Disk juked with him, and I with it, not having to worry about inertia as long as I was towed.

I could have Chainsharded the lot of them, held off completely as the Mick had his fun. He was in no danger from the things, Bunita a swirling wall of sparking parries beating them back, reaching out to chop and slice, and when a throat or heart-thrust was suddenly open, flick in and out. Blue blood spurted as the moarsmen gobbled and died, not quite aware about how they had been killed.

The scouts were littering the beach with the dead, a trail of their targets charging to the attack right up until there were only three of them left.

Kris disengaged the wagon, drew Quaver, and was suddenly in on them.

Bodies twice her mass went flying, fishy jaws broke as her Shield slammed into them with brutal force. Bones crunched, scales shattered, and gore flowered around her in a blur of Sword beats Fist as they were introduced to the concept that there was a damn reason ground-walkers used weapons!