BECMI Chapter 429 – Heaven-Sent Aid
Some time later…
There was a pulse in the manafield.
I wouldn’t even have felt it if I wasn’t tied so closely to the Pyramid of Heaven. I just glanced that way, and watched the link to Outside Reality shut down.
At the same time, the Doomrose DM informed me an outside Portal had triggered on Level One and dumped some outsiders into the middle of the Dungeon.
“DM, you can test them, but if they die, I’m pulling your plug,” I informed the computer handling everything.
“That important, Controller?”
“For the moment!” I was already up and heading for the entrance to the Dungeon, plotting my course to intercept them. Thor and Sif were down on the fourteenth level playing around with some altars that, if triggered correctly by a Priest, would open up a new swampy wing for everyone to have fun in, especially the will o’ wisps and shambling mounds that populated it together.
I kept a Visual File of all parts of the Dungeon and how to access them quickly in my head. I could do so because I had authority to Shape the rock of the Dungeon, whereas anyone else trying that trick just wasted the spell as it was sucked away to power other effects via Energy Transformation. So I could take shortcuts here and there as needed, cheating my way through the place, required since there was no dimension-bending allowed outside of line of sight within.
That particular fact had annoyed many a mage used to running away easily, and again made teamwork important… or having excellent defenses and skill with weapons.
Not a problem for me, of course…
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The roars and bellows of Pete the Ogre, in probably at least his thousandth fight as a Summoned early creature, came easily to my ears. The orcs and orogs in my way I’d scythed through, barely registering them as I advanced through the Orcish Quarter, amused that these creatures might well inspire the Immortals to directly make more races like them after encountering them for the first time inside the Dungeon, instead of waiting for the Beast-men to evolve in that direction.
The goblins were still having problems with some Sims leading unrelenting attacks to exterminate them. Nifl really shouldn’t make new races for herself.
I came around the corner, my Sword Intent in my hand, Shards spinning and waiting on my off-hand, and paused a moment to survey the scene.
Ten people were fighting. Five men, five women. Rather large as parties went here, but even a glance at them and how they moved didn’t indicate a lot of competence.
Surprisingly, the women had most of the martial roles, led by a tall Amazonian-built tattooed barbarian with tanned skin, wild brown hair, and fur-clad leathers, roaring and swinging an axe with great enthusiasm at Pete’s flank. She hacked into his kidney while his club rang off the shield of the woman in battered but polished plate armor, feinting at his eyes and making the towering brute jerk back to avoid having his throat cut instinctively.
The other dark-skinned woman in plain white surcoat and armor whipped a mace two-handed into the side of the ogre’s knee with clinical efficiency, and something popped. Pete’s arms were now out of position, so the Oriental longbowman waiting at the ready promptly popped an arrow into the opening, and Pete jerked as suddenly he had a clothyard shaft sticking out of his neck.
He faltered and fell backwards, hitting the ground awkward and heavily. As he did, the barbarian’s axe came down with great energy and removed his thick head completely from his body.
So passed Pete for the… 1114th time, according to the DM’s proud ping! Pete got beat up a lot. Happily, all memories of such were erased on respawn…
I’d naturally been spotted, especially since I wasn’t trying to conceal myself. I noted Pete’s entourage of a dozen orcs seemed mostly to have been taken out with a Sleep spell and daggers to the throat thereafter, a couple others inheriting arrows, with the swordswoman and axer having dropped their bows to get into melee with Pete.
The blonde in plate armor stepped forth in front, shield out and longsword raised, pointing at me. “Halt and identify yourself, elf!” she demanded quickly, moving between me and the rest of the party. Just a glance at the Shards around my hand indicated she realized I massively out-leveled her, and that I might be able to deal with the whole party.
I calmly sheathed Intent, and let my Shards fall away. I looked up and around carefully as I held up my palm, looking and sensing.
DM Doomrose indicated it could feel no Immortal eyes in the vicinity, either.
“Since I doubt I will be able to do so in public to you again, if my lords will allow me the privilege of kneeling to you this one time.”
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I knelt into a formal supplication as I let my disguise shift away under its Veil, and lowered my gaze before the Avatars of the Good gods of the Aruan Pantheon as my normal appearance and attire Morphed back to normal. “I am the Lady Edge, and it was I who sent for you.”
The ten not-gods glanced at one another, then back at me, expressions interested for a moment. The definitely-a-true-Paladin in silver lowered her sword and shield, looking upon me with a friendlier gaze.
“Well, we were indeed sent quite a ways through both time and space to get here, Lady Edge,” she said calmly. “Please rise, and, as you said, you need never kneel to us again.”
I rose calmly back to my feet, glancing over all of them.
“I am not sure a gender reversal of the common images we know you under would suffice to hide your identities in anything resembling normal circumstances, but I do believe a different multiverse is far enough away to obfuscate things.”
Harse, lord of Justice itself, appeared as a severely beautiful and stern southerner with dark skin and darker hair in plate armor, mace still in her hand after whacking Pete’s knee. Amana, Lady of Mercy and Healing, was likewise dark-skinned, a tall and slender man in white robes halfway between mystic and support cleric, a warm paternal smile on his lips.
Mithar, General of the Gods, was looking down at me as a fair-skinned blue-eyed blonde Paladin, leaning right into the trope cheerfully.
Aru, Emperor of the Sun, was anchoring the flank as a mail-clad dark-haired, fair-skinned and rather short priestess with a spear in hand and surcoat trimmed in gold. Flora, the Mother of the Fields, was in much more basic attire, also with a spear, but with clear druidic symbols etched into his leathers. Sylune was looking like a white-haired Colorajo elf, complete with rapier in hand and a spell glittering on his fingertips.
Nuava, the Lady of Love, was in the tight yet ruffled lace and hose of a swashbuckling duelist, his own ornate rapier out and still in position to block Pete from coming in at the Priests. Next to him was a cheerful elfin in parti-colored leathers and hose, flamboyant feathered hat, and cheeky grin, even now a finely carved lute in hand and picking out a song thoughtfully: Tiirith, Bard of Heaven, sending a flirty grin my way regardless.
Valus looked pretty stunning as a brunette barbarian axewoman, and was half a head taller than the rest of them.
“You came in very discretely,” I complimented all of them. “Threes?” I judged, taking care not to pry.
“I have not felt so weak and clumsy in ages,” Valus grumbled, reaching up to flex her bicep, which was plenty impressive, but, well, God of Strength and Thunder. “I trust there is a way for us to improve ourselves, Lady Edge?” she asked meaningfully. “We are completely cut off from our true selves, little better than true mortals at this time. We did not even perfect our forms!” she proclaimed in exasperation.
“You look simply splendid, dear,” Nuava assured her promptly, the tall, slender, and dangerously attractive duelist giving Valus a wink. “And if they don’t care to compliment you properly, you can always challenge them to arm-wrestling and break their wrists!”
Valus scoffed, but smiled. “Eventually, perhaps!” she conceded with bluff good cheer.
Aru stepped forward, unobtrusive, but the others calmly held back as she stepped up. “We will be in need of improving ourselves for some time, and familiarizing ourselves with the laws and means of this place, Lady Edge,” she said solemnly, but also good cheer, as if this was all a new day, everyone should roll up their sleeves and get to it.
“In the guise of rescuing a party of adventurers who stumbled into something they were quite unprepared for, I can certainly escort you forth from Dungeon Doomrose and outside to safety.” I paused for a moment as my own Lady Gina disguise slipped back into place. “I do recommend going with alternate names that cannot be associated with your true selves. I have no idea of the information resources of the local Immortal Hierarchs, but they’ve certainly had contact with things Outside Creation, and I don’t put it past them to have regular dealings with things of Mythos, especially among the Entropic Immortals.”
“They are not cultivators?” Mithar asked quickly, her eyes narrowed. “Immortals is a favored appellation among them!” she reminded me.
“Ah, no, Lady Paladin,” I replied calmly, nodding at her point. “Chi and its derivations are not stable here, although ki is. Soul magic can only be internalized. Rage is limited to internal effects. Psionic energies are directly tied to Mythos. However, high science is possible here.”
I flicked out a prismatic saber and snapped on the blade, the radiant fractal edge of light snapping into existence with an ominous humming as the containment field throbbed at the air. Ten pairs of eyebrows rose as one.
“High technology and a strong manafield that can sustain major spellcasting. This is a fairly unique world,” Sylune pointed out, sheathing his own shorter rapier as he considered the device in my hand. “I think I may want a more personal version of that blade,” he smiled, giving me a wink.
“I will be pleased to teach you how to make one,” I nodded to him as I snapped it off. “I can inform you of the basics and some of the advanced natures of the Systems here, and if you are restricted to mortal means, those which will be most useful for you.” I took a deep breath. “In this guise, I am known as Lady Gina, an experienced elven explorer and guide of the Dungeon about you. As Lady Edge, I am actually the owner, ruler, and controller of the mountain this Dungeon is built into, the Castle atop it, and the Ringlands of Fire about it. I have passed the mortal Apex and stand as the first Eternal to walk this living world, if not ever, than for at least four thousand years.
“Your opponents on this world are the beings that exist here in the place of Gods, Titans, and Eternals, and that is the Immortals. They are once-mortal beings who have managed to rise to an effectively post-mortal state that at the lowest level is equal to demigods, and at the higher level exceeds that of Lesser Gods in some ways.
“There are no gods on this world at all. All Divine magic is faith returned to the worshipers of these Immortals, although they gain no personal power from that faith aside from information. The Alignments have no true champions, and what Alignment conflict exists is mostly on the old Law/Chaos axis of civilization against the untamed wilderness and magical creatures that exist in it. Good and evil are relative to one’s self, not the powers we know them to be, and do not exist as such in magic or philosophy here.”
The Avatars all looked at one another expectantly. “We seem to have a lot of work ahead of us,” Aru said dryly, but her dark eyes were twinkling. “Lead us forth, Lady Gina, while we work out some proper sobriquets to solidify our independence from our greater selves…”