TW: Racism

Interlude: Seveena

Rain lashed down on Seveena's study's windows as she sipped at her glass of wine. It was noon, not that one would know it with the sun's rays beneath banks of impenetrable grey-black clouds. It was a welcome relief from the often too-bright sun of her posting, although one that was at the present moment, allegedly, not ideal.

"Lady Viceroy," said the Commodore. "I must insist you reconsider the timing of the attack. At this time of year, engaging a fortified position from a shallow bay with weather like this? We are liable to run aground—to say nothing of a total inability to see boarding parties coming from below the waves. These are adventurers, not a regular army—we are fighting incredibly dangerous individuals less organised but more flexible than any regular foe.”

Seveena muttered darkly. "The Empress expects results," she said, turning to him. "The Guild's actions, their flagrant disregard for our laws, it is an insult to the Empire. It cannot be allowed to stand! Once the reinforcements arrive, I do not intend to sit on my hands!”

The Commodore was a tall, and rather handsome man with a few artful scars across one cheek. He was around a decade younger than her, and had good breeding, relatively distantly related to Seveena—he was her fourth cousin on her mother’s side, sixth on her father’s. She wasn’t really looking for another partner since Xalvar’s tragic passing—she already had an heir, but if she were, she would certainly have considered him.

"We are not in disagreement, my lady," he said. "But we must wait, at least, until the worst of the storms pass. To not do so would be to risk potentially thousands of Mercian lives. I have seen what happens when a group of adventurers get aboard a vessel. In close quarters they will slaughter even the best of my men and women. Our advantage is our numbers, and open terrain they cannot use to obscure their approach—that is as true on land as it is on sea. We need to siege them from the beach and the open dunes; we cannot fight them in the jungle, and we cannot fight them with low visibility.”

Seveena scowled and took a gulp of her expensive wine, her mind turning this over. The Commodore was not an unreasonable man; he was looking out for the men and women underneath his command. She could respect that. It was a noble and virtuous trait in a commander: and one she had tried to adopt with her own forces—and not just because her son was a Captain and she did not want to humiliate him by giving him only cushy assignments, no matter how much it made her heart ache…

She took another, larger gulp of wine, her mind flicking back to that terrible day when he'd been injured in the Greenskin attack. It had been a light injury, thank the Goddess, and easily fixed by—

She frowned. Hold on. That beastkin healer that had healed her son… had that been the one that Caroline had talked about, the one who had organised the slave-break? The 'neby' or whatever the strange Erde term was? Damn it, it had, hadn't it? That explained why it had been so insolent…

Seveena turned her thoughts away, and back to the problem at hand. The Empress expected her to deal with the problems of both the Guild and the Caith, and had given her resources to do so—the squadron with its two regiments were due any day. If she failed in her mission, she would be stripped of her position, perhaps worse. That kind of impetus would normally have made her give the order to attack immediately.

But the Empress was… particular. If Seveena was reckless here, if she was judged to have needlessly wasted resources, then the Empress was the kind of woman who would probably have her removed from her post for that too. That was the impression that Seveena had gotten from their discussion…

"How long?" she said.

"Weather augury suggests this will be a long rainy season," said the Commodore. "But the worst of it should be over in three months."

Seveena exhaled. “Three months," she said. "Very well. But as soon as the last major storm is over, we attack."

She saw the Commodore relax. "I will begin making preparations, Lady Viceroy," he said, before saluting. "Thank-you, Lady Viceroy."

She smiled and motioned that he was dismissed, before turning to look back out into the lashing rain.

Three months. The Guild would likely be a little stronger—she wouldn't be able to sink all of the vessels bound for the rebellious little port—but the Commodore was right, it would be a mistake, and a bloody one, to attack early. And, in the grand scheme of things, three months wasn't very long at all.

And it wasn't like she could do nothing, she thought, finishing her wine and moving back to her desk. Seveena pushed aside a rather useless and inconclusive report about the still unsolved mystery of why slaves were just disappearing at twenty times previous rates, and instead pulled out Caroline's latest letter, which in addition to a whole host of nonsense heresy contained several useful pieces of information.

Firstly, that a lot of adventurers had survived the destruction of the Stormchaser, which was bad news, and secondly, that Caroline was, on her own bat, trying to depose Laera as Guildmistress and had even managed to recruit several silver ranked guild members to her cause. That was good, and caused more than a little chaos, but Seveena thought she could do better.

“Thank the Goddess for gullible fools,” said Seveena with a small smile as she pulled out her favourite pen from her desk's stand and dipped it in her inkwell, thinking for a moment before she began to respond.

"'Dearest Caroline,’” she muttered, the sound of her metal nib on the paper all but lost to the roar of rain outside. “’I continue to find your theology very interesting, please send more.’”

Small rote flattery out of the way she paused and took another moment to consider before writing on.

“‘You and I are in agreement that Guildmistress Laera has been woefully incompetent in her duties, and should be removed. Happily, I have raised the matter with the Empress, and she is agreed that the current situation is intolerable. I don't wish to place undue burden upon you, my friend, but should you wish to collaborate directly on this matter, I am sure you would be of invaluable assistance, and your contribution would not go unnoticed—I am positive I would be able to secure you imperial citizenship, perhaps even a minor title. There are few people in this world who possess your clear vision, upstanding moral character, and unwavering drive to do what is right…'"

***

Spear of Clouds Unfurled 5.12

The giant worm's black and grey scales shone in the moonlight as the dust kicked up by its eruptive entrance began to slowly settle. Its giant, three-fold 'beaks' slowly closed in on itself as it writhed, trying to find us.

Nathan and Mousington were fine, I could sense that, but they were just as scared as Velevir and myself. We'd fought some terrible things together: the giant rock elemental that guarded the exit to the first level; massive sharks and giant crabs that shot lasers—well, I'd been unconscious for that one—and air elementals and undead and stellar dragons. But we had never fought anything nearly this big: as wide as a house, and who knew how much longer, the creature was absolutely immense. So large that felt less like a monster to be fought, and more like an elemental force of nature to be endured or fled from.

But we couldn't flee. That wasn't an option.

Beside me, Velevir's hand trembled for a moment, but then she took a deep breath and muttered something that sounded like a prayer. A pulse of green confidence bloomed in her aura, wrapped in steely blue calm.

I had no such faith to reassure me, Godless heathen that I was, but although I wasn't prepared to use my power on other real people, I was prepared to use it on myself. Now was not the time for panic; now was the time for calm. A small flicker of orange worry surfaced, wondering if I might be rewriting myself, but I crushed that too. Not the time.

I killed my fear, and the sound of my heart retreated from both sets of my ears, and I stood a little taller.

"Alright, so it hears us, doesn't see us," said Velevir, peering across to where the Worm was rolling and twisting slightly where it had impacted.

"Maybe through vibrations too," I said. "In the ground? That was… dammit, I sound like Nathan—that was how it worked in the book I read, that had creatures like this."

"I have, unfortunately, come to realise Nathan is something of a savant with dungeon-logic," said Velevir in a slightly resigned voice. "Do you know any spells to lighten us? Charms and I… never got along."

I nodded. I had learnt a charm to do that—a precursor to object levitation.

"Doesn't last long, a few minutes," I said, flexing my fingers and focusing, summoning up blue energy and weaving it carefully together into a specific geometric form in my mind, before layering my intent over it and weaving the two together to produce the spell.

"Mousington can refresh it properly, once we regroup," said Velevir as I pressed my hand against her shoulder. Blue light raced over her before fading, and she took an experimental step, nodding to herself when her footstep made barely a sound. "OK, here's the plan: we make ourselves invisible to it, we bait it, hit it, then repeat."

I glanced at the massive worm which was beginning to orient its three mouth-like bits towards the ground, and then gave her a sceptical look.

"Don't look at me like that," said Velevir. "Not unless you have a better plan. OK, no? Then you do your creepy emotional-puppet-master thing and stay out of the way."

Staying out of the way. That sounded great.

Velevir broke into a run, and I cast the same spell on myself as I watched her go. Her feet were silent as a whisper as she raised her hammer and channelled energy into it, making it blaze brighter and brighter until it was almost painful to look at. Then she jumped, and hurled herself straight at the worm.

This time the monster screamed as her hammer struck home, and one of the scales exploded under the force of Velevir's strength, sending out a wave of black blood and filling the gently rolling sands with the smell of burning flesh. Crimson anger radiated in the monster’s mind, and it immediately thrashed towards Velevir, trying to crush her.

Velevir, however, was no green dungeon delver. She had the iron insignia around her neck for a reason, and she immediately vaulted upwards and onto the monster, flipping her hammer over and using the hooked reverse to dig into the grooves between the worm's massive scales and haul herself up in a series of brutal, rapid movements, finding her feet a few moments later. She raised her hammer, charging up another blow and shattering another scale, eliciting more rage and pain from the worm. This time, however, I introduced a bit of fear into it, so rather than rolling and trying to crush Velevir again, it began to push itself down into the sand.

"Nathan! It sees through sound and vibration!" I heard her shout. "That's what Charlie says! Mousingt- Lord Mousington, we need lightening charms, and then we need you to bait it!"

I heard a muffled shout in response as the worm began to dig down into the sands, and Velevir hurled herself clear.

I exhaled.

Two scales down. Only a billion or so more to go.

The worm dove back into the moon-silver sands, leaving us standing around and panting.

"It coming back, Chezza?" said Nathan.

I nodded, closing my eyes and pointing towards its emotions, my hand slowly sweeping outward and then…

"It's coming around," I said, casting another lightening charm on myself. "Fast."

"Lord Mousington, lightning traps, and don't be anywhere near when they go off; Nathan, on my signal, you draw it out,” said Velevir. "And don't you dare get eaten."

Nathan nodded and readied his shield as the now light as air Mousington began to dart around him in a circle, inscribing glowing blue runes into the sand that pulsed and glowed and crackled with contained power. I'd read about using magic like that, 'grounding it.' Usually, it was meant as a way of creating a temporary barrier you didn't need to focus on to block a path, or make some kind of other temporary effect more permanent.

These, however, were much less stable than that, and seemed more like mines than anything else.

The worm began to slowly circle beneath us, waiting for a sign that would give us away as Mousington finished his traps.

"Alright, now," said Velevir.

Nathan nodded, and began to hit the flat side of his shield against the ground, hard enough that I could feel it through my own boots. I felt the worm shift its course.

"It's onto you," I yelled.

Nathan stopped his shield-stamping as the ground began to shake and I felt the worm turn upwards and begin its 'attack run.'

"Go!" I shouted.

He sprinted off to the side as another of the terrible sinkholes started to appear beneath him, moving faster than even Velevir could manage. The worm breached again, and I raised a hand against the wave of sand and dust a moment before a cacophony of tightly packed thunder erupted from all sides of the monster.

This time, yellow fear tinged the worm's aura without my intervention as the crackling cage of lightning tore at its scales, finding the two that Velevir had shattered and sending deadly energy arcing through the worm's body. Not enough to kill it, not nearly enough, but enough that it let out a mighty and enraged bellow.

This time, however, rather than fall sideways to try and crush someone, it reared up and back, curving its great neck, bearing its great maw in what was probably a random direction, but happened to be mostly pointed at me, and then…

My eyes widened as there was a rumbling sound, and I barely managed to conjure a shield over myself before a torrent of stinking, vicious green acid erupted from its maw, striking the sand half a dozen meters to me left and erupting outwards in all directions. My shield protected me—mostly, at least, but I wasn't good enough to pull off a full sphere of protection, and acid splashed around the side, stinging at my exposed cheek and burning through my skin.

I grimaced and immediately healed the injury, or rather, I tried to. But for every piece of flesh I restored, the acid moved back to eat away again. It was losing potency, but very, very slowly. If whatever horrific substance had gotten on me in a greater amount, or in my eye, or on someone else, I would have been in real trouble.

"Don't let the acid hit you," I said continuing to heal my cheek as the worm shifted about and then began to fall sideways. "Even a little!"

I snarled and redoubled my efforts as I saw Velvir nod, and then begin to sprint towards the Worm, hammer raised.

Fine, I thought, if normal flesh didn't want to resist the acid, what about if I just made… tougher flesh?

I'd never tried to use my power to make something unnatural, only to restore a body back towards some kind of combination of what I understood was necessary, and what my 'knack' guided me towards. But once I turned my mind to designing flesh that would resist the corrosive spit, I found that it wasn't really all that difficult at all.

The pain faded as I felt my skin shift and tighten and thicken, forcing the acid back to the surface as it failed to bite into the toughened skin and I wiped it off with the back of my metal vambrace hand, and then onto the clean sand.

I poked my changed skin speculatively. It felt a bit harder, less supple than normal—like thick, smooth leather. The feeling wasn't dulled though, so that was something.

"Hmm," I said, focusing for a moment and activating my gift, shifting the toughened skin back to my normal, soft and supple skin without difficulty. "Interesting."

I looked up at another roar from the monster, and saw Velevir jumping free as it dove back into the sand. The monster’s movements were jerkier and less sure as it trailed blood from half a dozen shattered and burnt and rent scales.

I tracked the worm as it dove again, but most of my mind was still considering what I had done. I had changed myself, used my power of healing to do something other than heal or harm. Was there some kind of limit to what I could do? Obviously, it would be madness to touch my brain, but was there any reason I couldn't harden my bones? Toughen my skin? Improve upon the nature of my muscles? I hadn't wanted to play with my eyes, move them away from their 'normal,' and instead just contented myself to let them gradually improve, but 'resetting' the skin back to its natural point hadn't been difficult in the slightest. Obviously, I wasn't going to go playing with my vision now, but my skin…

I shivered as I shifted the skin on my face, scalp, and neck to the hardened, acid-resistant type. It wouldn't protect my eyes, but it would stop me being burnt if I was hit by anymore incidental spray.

"Chezza, get ready to let me know," said Nathan.

I pulled my attention back to the present, then nodded, diverting all my focus to the battle.

"Alright, Lord Mousington, you need to draw its attention when it comes up to spit," said Velevir. "While Nathan will carry you."

"We do not like being carried," sulked the wizard as he began inscribing more of the lightning runes.

"You think you can run fast enough not to get smushed?" said Nathan.

Mousington yowled, but seemed to concede the point.

"Alright, then let's go again," said Velevir. "Nathan, do it."

I felt the great worm turn as it sensed the sound of Nathan's shield bashes. This time, however, it was wary, smart enough to know that it was being baited. It circled several more times, trying to get into a better position, perhaps, but it could not hide from me.

"Incoming!" I shouted, using my arm to indicate. "A more acute angle!"

"A what?" said Nathan.

"It's fucking coming up diagonal!" I shouted as the ground began to shake. "Run sideways! That way!"

He did as I bade, his lightened boots kicking up the barest whisper of sand as rather than a sinkhole the worm came up at forty-five degrees, creating a kind of shuddering wave of dust and a cave-like opening as it breached, its massive beaks opening blindly, trying and failing to swallow Nathan even as Mousington's mines detonated, ripping into its flesh wherever Velevir had shattered its carapace and biting deeper still.

This time, I saw the effect it had. The giant worm’s muscles twitched and spasmed as the lightning arced through its body, and its great dive became an uncoordinated crash as it twisted and jerked, roaring.

If it hadn't been so abjectly terrifying, I would have almost felt sad for it as Velevir launched herself onto its back and began to hit it again and again and again, shattering scale after scale and beginning to rip into its body with her own blasts of light as Mousington forwent stealth and began to bombard it, aiming for the spots on its side that Velevir had already weakened.

For my part, I hit the worm with contradictory, confusing emotions, tying it into mental knots as it, crippled and gushing blood, continued to try to fight us. It attempted to vomit acid at Mousington, the only person it could really 'see.' But Mousington was a skilled mage, and conjured a full spherical shield, leaving a perfect circle of untouched sand around him as the monster's stinking bile ate into the ground.

The worm tried to roll over, to shake Velevir, but she nimbly raced across its back, smashing and crushing and rending, wounding it more and more and more. Its movements grew weaker, and fear became its overriding emotion. It tried to dive again, but Velevir hooked it beneath one of the smaller scales near its beak and pulled, keeping its head up as Mousington hit it again and again and again, and Nathan began to smash at it with his electrified mace.

I grimaced as a dark thought occurred to me.

I'd been mistaken; I did feel sorry for it. Sure, it was a creation of the dungeon, a monster sent to kill us, but for all its size and power, it hadn't been a match for our ingenuity and teamwork.

Humans on Earth had reached the top of the food-chain by being smarter and more coordinated than anything around us; here, on Alaria, you added magic to the mix? You went beyond that? Gave people superhuman strength like Velevir and Nathan, the ability to call down the fury of the heavens like Mousington, or me with my creepy and deadly powers to manipulate others, body and mind?

Well, I understood now why the other nations, for all their politics and posturing, hadn't been able to cow the Guild, and why so many people in the town who weren't Guild Members regarded us with no small apprehension.

I'd never seen the Guild members fight during the attack by the Caith. I'd been focused on healing, but I now saw why they hadn't been able to break us. We had the best of both worlds: the smarts and coordination, but also the raw martial and magical power of predators far larger.

That was good, in that I maybe had a bit more confidence we might be able to hold against Port Imperial, but it was also concerning. I wasn't sure how the various states and kingdoms had avoided being ruled by people with mana-cores thus far, but it was a problem that for the first time I was, as someone who was at their core a believer in democracy and self-rule, beginning to regard as a rather serious one.

More than just Guild members, if Outlanders kept on showing up, growing in strength at the rate Nathan and I and all the others were, soon enough we'd be strong enough to give the likes of Laera, who had been delving for decades and might have received some other boost from her infernal heritage, a run for their money. That was fine in the short-term, but what about the long term?

Power was a problem; the single biggest political problem there was: who had it, and who didn't. Who kept the strong from taking from the weak? Unless we figured out a way to stop that power being turned on others, those without the ability to grow into monsters like us, then I could see a future I didn't like, outlined in the silhouette of Velevir, covered in black blood and holding a dying behemoth up by its beak.

I rubbed my face and sighed as the monstrous, terrible worm finally expired.

Velevir was right: I did make everything more complicated.

But that was a problem for another time, right now I was going to help the others harvest whatever looked valuable from this terrifying worm, find out where the exit to this desert was, and then go and have the world's longest bath.

Or at least, that was what I wanted to do.

The dungeon, however, had other ideas, and I barely had enough time to yelp as I felt the vastness of its mind turn upon me. There was a brief sensation of falling, and then I was wrenched into some kind of strange mind-scape.

---

A.N. Patreon, and other stories in my profile. :)