BECMI Chapter 82 – Taking the Temple
The security teams investigating the power outage slammed into us, and they weren’t all killed before another alien got the word out on coms. The real fighting began in earnest.
Ultimately, that was fine. The Thorns proudly took the front, and a wall of spears pressed forwards with lethal skill and remorseless strength, while close-range Darts brought our enemies down in ones and twos.
Everyone had chances to fight. This wasn’t just about fighting and looting: everyone had Weapons that needed Naming Karma, too, so everybody was eager to get into the fights!
There were some Priests among the cultists, who tried using paralytic magic against us… not too effective on people wearing Energized octel gems and immune to any form of paralysis thereby. The waiting arrows and crossbows soon hatracked those fellows, and we forced our way up and forward.
They had a line of archers waiting for us, who didn’t last too long when the Seeking Fireball zipped around the corner, detonated among them, and sent charred bodies flying, which didn’t even hit the ground before they were white dust. Funf personally took charge of returning any and all grenades to senders with his Telekinesis, including flashbang, gas, fragmentation, and concussions styles, as well as web grenades, judging by the reactions when said hurled toys bounced back and over the top of those throwing them.
The Company swarmed out into the main fighting, very confident in their melee combat capabilities now, and utterly ignored the laser fire that might as well have been flashlights shining on us.
I eyed the dark Ruby Aura of the guy up on the balcony, shooting down at us and making a really frustrated expression when his pinpoint shots did nothing. Then he pulled out the hollow tube of a grenade launcher, Funf locked on it, and as he pulled the trigger, my Ring knocked it aside, diverting it away to his shock. It detonated against the main doors, which were already rumbling from sort of attack outside.
The man made to run and turn, and Funf yanked him backwards and over the railing, sending him crashing down on the altar below where he’d long been watching the fun, and where the hardest fighting was going on.
Bjorn was the closest to him, and shot me a glance. I chopped a finger to my neck. “I only need the head.”
The man was struggling to his feet, his mesh-armor fritzing after taking the hit, and barely managed to get his gleaming sword of hard light, not a laser, up in time to meet the Axe of the big Northman.
Sword against axe is very good for the sword, if you are skilled. Sword against axe and shield is most definitely not, and even if the commander was a pretty good fencer, he blanched as the hulking Skifnerson pressed him back with fluid, elusive cuts, brutal hacks, and his shield slamming repeatedly into the sword. Bjorn pressed the man back, giving him no room to maneuver… and Buck squirted out from in between the fighting people, came up behind the fellow, and planted his shortsword in the man’s kidney and his dagger into the back of the alien’s knee.
The commander of the aliens screamed in pain as he stumbled and dropped to one knee, and there was not the slightest delay as Bjorn’s shield smashed his sword down and out of the way, then his Axe came over and removed the man’s head in one clean stroke.
Funf retrieved the head, while barbarian and halfling tunked shield to shortsword, and the two of them charged forward into the screaming mass of cultists, one hacking high, and the other stabbing low.
The remnants of the cultists were starting to go berserk as the focus of their brainwashing was removed so energetically. Final orders seared into them, unable to think enough to question them, they fought madly right to the end, biting and tearing as they went down, with no thought for self-preservation.
The Company had all been warned, and those not fighting were making sure to coup de grace anyone that looked down and alive, as there was no saving them at this point.
“Guy, go,” I ordered our best rogue. He promptly broke off a fencing demonstration, Prince Ukker stepping in to relieve him via disembowelment to the belly instead of stop-thrust through the throat, a change in tactics his opponent didn’t quite parry fast enough. Buck, Hanoval, Eryis, and Rusafiel hurried after him, making their way for the back rooms and the quarters of the head priest. The dwarves moved smoothly to force any cultists out of their way, and then across the doorway to seal it behind them, not blinking an eye at the teamwork.
I walked over to the main doors, which were opened electronically and sealed, wood over solid metal that was shrugging across magical attacks from the other side. The worked stone wasn’t stone here, it was duracrete, so I couldn’t Shape it.
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However, nothing said I couldn’t Activate the door, with a Shocking Grasp focused slowly through it for the requisite power.
Slowly, the pistons hauled back, and the great doors opened slowly inwards. I heard the shouts and a lot of sharp pointy things were starting to fill that opening as it opened up… and the soldiers eager to press forward saw me standing there waiting for them, the main hall of the Basilica Batrachian covered in corpses, most of them Burning vivic already.
The towering barbarian at the front of the mess aimed to step forwards, his eyes huge and on the big gleaming gold plug at the far end of the temple, a fortune waiting to be claimed.
I flicked out Dread, and brought Skarvald up short with the Spear humming very loudly under his throat.
He made to swat my Spear away with his Axe, sneering at me, and there was a crack and ting as my Spear failed to move at all. There was also a sizzle as the Shocking Grasp blew through his Axe and him, sending him flailing and flying backwards from my casual rebuke, sprawling and smoking into the midst of his men, unconscious.
“The Free Company has the interior of the Basilica,” I said to the mercenaries there in a deadly calm voice. “Take your commander to the Healers and set up a perimeter around the entry as you clear off the outer defenses. Inform the King that the temple is ours, and we will have the last of the defenders wrapped up momentarily if he cares to investigate.
“In the meantime we will be securing the spoils of this place.”
Three Disks came hovering up behind me. “Sergeant, take two men you trust and start collecting the light-shooting sidearms of the cultists, and the silver Rings worn by them.” I paused for emphasis, and then said in Magevoice to every single damn soul within a mile, “For all you looters out there, the Basilica has now fallen. We are going to be collecting the alien weapons, silver Rings, and other gear of the defenders, and magically searching for any that we have missed. If any of you have some fine ideas about hiding them for sale for yourselves, please indulge yourselves. When we find them, we will know who is loyal and who is an opportunistic traitor, and you will be hung by the neck until dead forthwith.”
The faces of the men in front of me turned quite uneasy upon hearing that, and the pressure to advance ahead evaporated instantly.
I gave them all one long, cool glance, and the junior officers suddenly had the inspiration to actually start giving orders backing up what I was saying. Nobody made an attempt to enter the main temple area.
The fighting wasn’t totally over, but it would be soon. Frog Island was ours.
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“Your means of instilling discipline are quite effective.”
I was sitting on the shoreline of the lake near one of the few areas high enough that a gator or frog couldn’t come ashore easily, down near one of the bridges, with Duum standing guard nearby like a particularly ferocious leashed monster, which thought made him puff his chest out impressively in amusement. King Antius sat down next to me, blinking as a silver Ring of familiar style came shooting out of the waters into my hand. He gave my massive Bat a careful eye, but no more. Duum ignored him in turn, naturally recognizing the King of Darkmoor.
“It seems one of the cultist officers was either drowned or pulled into the water by an opportunistic frog.” I held the Ring up to my eye to examine. “Mind-controlling tech and parawave communication. Not the same as the Ei’s technology, but thematically similar.” I gave King Antius a side-eye. “I am going to be Burning a number of those Rings to power up the Permanent Teleport Circle. They should all be destroyed, save for a couple kept as references for study so that people can identify them in the future.”
“I have no issues with that, Lady Edge.” Both our eyes wandered over to where a dozen men were hanging by their necks from the branches of a patient old cypress tree, looters who had tried to conceal their findings, were caught, and paid the price for it. “I am somewhat surprised to not see you with the Healers, although our casualties were incredibly light for a battle this size. Your tactics and battle plan went over quite well.”
“Belle can handle the injuries well enough. I’m directing my people in frog hunting.” He gave me an odd look at that bit of news. “There are thousands of the mutant things to kill, and I can Commune when on natural soil and direct them to where they all are. They are split in teams and flying through the forest seeking out the frogs to kill. We likely won’t get them all, but hopefully we can get enough that natural predators will take out the rest for us.”
It seemed that ten killer frogs constituted enough Naming Karma for one day, so everyone was happily getting a second day of Naming Karma in. If all went well, we could get at least another two days of such out of just hunting them down. Better Weapons waited for nobody!
Locate Object and Detect Precious Metals and Minerals had very rapidly found out who was carrying illicit spoils, not the least because I’d walked through the ready army before everyone was deployed and made a very accurate record of who was carrying what, just so nobody could claim looted coins were their own.
The look on a looter’s face when told he had three gold pieces to his name when he stepped through the Circle, not the hundred and fourteen now stuffed into his purse, was generally not very happy, especially when the Gray or Purple or Red sorts were dragged off to be hung without ceremony.
A half-dozen arsonists and rapists had joined them, along with two men who had butchered entire families in their haste to loot more.
“Discipline is something many men fight against, yet once they have it, they appreciate it so much. It’s just the opportunists who believe everyone else should be disciplined, and they should not and take advantage of the fact. Those are the ones you have to remove from your forces post-haste.” I eyed the hanging dead. “I note most of that lot there were mercenaries assigned to Skarvald.”
“Which is why they were assigned to him. We knew who to watch,” the king admitted with a resigned sigh. “He is very not happy with you, you know.”
“I am fully prepared to turn him into a proud statue on display in front of the Thisbean Inn as a tribute to his eternal glory, if he so wishes.”