Abyssal Road Trip

Amdirlain’s PoV - Demi-Plane

The reported songs of the three succubi venturing into the Abyss’ deep planes buzzed in her mind. Amdirlain shifted to an empty Demi-Plane and quickly altered it to contain a perfectly smooth stone plain. The same crystals Amdirlain used to contain the Fallen formed barriers for the three summoning circles, unconcerned that they’d allow them to see around them. It was within these True Song barriers that three physically identical succubi appeared in rapid succession.

There wasn’t even any strain.

Amdirlain listened to the patterns of the energy immunities throughout the melodies of all three. While she expected their immunity to fire, they also possessed immunity to air, lightning, and mundane material. The expected resistance to Primordial energy wasn’t natural but provided via a necklace each wore beneath their leather armour.

They didn’t train their Primordial Resistance high; they just found an enchanter with enough ability to create protective objects. That explains how she had so many succubi who could survive in the depths. Did the same Artificer make the rest?

All three succubi regarded Amdirlain with shocked disbelief, their predatory gazes lighting up with anticipation at the bare stone floor that separated them from her. Multiple spells struck out from each of them at Amdirlain, only to spray harmlessly off the interior of the summoning barriers. A deflected blast cost one Succubus a wing, and she dropped to the floor as the spells continued to ricochet around their spaces.

“Did you think I summoned you here without defences?” laughed Amdirlain, waving idly at the empty air before them. “Just because you can’t see the summoning circle doesn’t mean there isn’t something containing you.”

“Who are you?” growled the trio in an out-of-sync demand.

“I believe the name ‘J’ might be the most familiar to you,” offered Amdirlain. “Not that it’s a usable use name now, but it’s an old one of mine.”

Amdirlain caught an image from one, a hand-me-down memory. The mental image showed a young Succubus with rot spreading from her impaled hand.

She wasn’t there, but someone had passed along the memory.

The songs to record their memories and evoke more were quick to set up. Amdirlain tied them to a crystal retrieved from the Foundry, aware of how few blank crystals remained. With the melodies in place, Amdirlain let the block settle on the ground. The trickle of experience for enchanting it had Amdirlain consider it speculatively.

Could I enchant a crystal to copy all the memories out of my Soul? That feels dangerous with all the secrets Ori was keeping. It might be a last resort if I can’t get any other approach working. There are so many things on my plate, and I need to spend some time increasing my crystal stockpiles, maybe even creating some surveyors.

The three succubi snarled and ranted, to which Amdirlain smiled. “I don’t think you realise exactly how much trouble you’re in with me.”

[Name: Phistia

Species: Succubus, Named

Class: Arcane Mistress / Spell Knife / Abyssal Knight / Corruptor

Level: 32 / 94 / 84 / 84 / 22

Health: 1,117,386

Defence: 8,736

Magic: 1,810

Melee Attack Power: 5,779

Combat Skills: Body Weaponry-Prince [GM] (23), Long Blade-King [GM] (347), Mana Finesse-King [GM] (421); Assorted affinities and spell lists

Details: A long-term lackey of Balnérith, she joined during the foundation of the Sisterhood of the Blood. After your destruction of the Blood Monk Class, she obtained the Corruptor Class to replace the evaporated Power of her lost Class.]

Amdirlain superficially checked the classes with Analysis to confirm what their themes told her about their combinations. She found that the other two succubi possessed similar classes and strengths. While Phistia was the strongest of the three, Krynixia and Shareva weren’t far behind.

I was so afraid of them for so long but now I could crush these three like bugs. Though I can’t get overconfident just because Phistia was with Balnérith for a long time, it doesn’t mean there aren’t others who worked harder—a couple of protective devices and some weaponry bump up their defence and attack ratings.

[Arcane Mistress:

Details: This Tier 5 Prestige Class combines the Wizard and Succubus classes. It hones the natural arcane tendencies, focusing on curses and corruption magic.

Note: They found the various decay powers involved in this Class and its usual spell lists helpful when working on the wound.]

[Spell Knife:

Details: This Tier 5 Prestige Class combines variations of the Thief and Wizard classes. It provided various powers of concealment to allow the practitioners to utilise their magic from hiding.]

[Abyssal Knight:

Details: An evolved fighter base class available to demons in service to a dark power of Demon Lord or Lady rank or higher.]

[Corruptor:

Details: This Wizard variant Class requires the Abyssal Affinity to obtain.]

So she replaced Blood Monk with Corruptor when it came apart.

Phistia bristled. “You might have us for now, but we’ll be dragging screams from you in time.”

“Where do I find Balnérith?” questioned Amdirlain.

“You don’t. She’ll find you,” hissed Krynixia. “When she finds you, she’ll torture you for eternity in our new realm.”

Do they think they can be rulers of a realm? I guess that gives them a reason to still work with Balnérith. They believe her lies about a place where they can gain absolute power and control, and they’re desperate for it to be true.

“Did you enjoy that memory?” asked Amdirlain. “Did you realise that, despite the pain it inflicted, the implement still couldn’t properly apply a True Name to me? Smug Balnérith was too arrogant to realise it hadn’t worked. Isn’t that funny?”

The Succubus’ lips twisted in a bloodthirsty grin, delight sparking in her mind. “That’s what you claim. The Lómë are using you as their pawn, and you’re too dumb to realise it.”

“You believe the Lómë are using me?” laughed Amdirlain. “All three of you are greater demons, yet your desires and greed blind you. To think I was once terrified of those like you, how the times have changed. I want directions to where Balnérith has you working, and you’ll give them to me.”

I don’t need to tell them I’m copying their memories, so it won’t matter how much they resist.

“What do you know of that?” growled one claws trying to dig into the barrier.

“It doesn’t lead to her old realm, but out into the Far Chaos where the Eldritch lives. The fun thing is you’re not even close to being in the right place for what she’s seeking,” advised Amdirlain.

All three of them stiffened.

“You lie,” growled the succubi in a sour chorus.

Amdirlain smiled viciously. “You’re not worth the effort a lie would take. It’s far easier to tell the truth to the puppets of a manipulative fool. It’s not the realm’s protections that warp your flesh but the effect of the Far Chaos. Without protection from Eldritch energies, only the habit of the form you wear keeps your bodies from distorting into horrors. I bet none of you have seen Balnérith’s True Form and what it did to her. She had the right fix. She disciplined you to hold a specific form. Yet she was solving a problem irrelevant to what she wanted to do: go home.”

If they get loose from these barriers, that might put a bee in Balnérith’s bonnet.

Her words stirred them to dwell on the location of the wound, and Amdirlain nudged their minds as she monitored their recollections of the route. Among the information, she caught the shortcut that had caused Silpar to lose track of the group he’d tried to follow.

Geez, that is a long journey, and they can fly at high supersonic speeds from the way the mountainous waves of that first Plane rush past. I’ll need to keep a hold of them and ensure I dig out all the details, and I’ve seen enough to know a mistake would land me in trouble with the primordials down there.

Amdirlain’s mental probe silenced the trio, slicing surgically through minimally trained psionic defences. Though the demonesses’ nature made it difficult, Amdirlain opened one Succubus to an understanding of Celestial Affinity in moments, and she clutched at the side of her head, screaming in agony and disbelief. The understanding of goodness was so opposed to her nature that it caused a cascade of mental agony

What does that say about me? I have both Abyssal and Infernal. Or is it because I can accept evil exists, and even if I don’t like it, I understand enough about Tyrants and Sociopaths? She refuses to accept that goodness is more than just a fool's attitude, and her whole mindset opposes it.

“A bit of knowledge is dangerous,” purred Amdirlain mockingly. Leaning into Muse’s Insight, she remembered the terror of her hand rotting on the spike within the chamber of bone and projected it to the two of them. Surprised at the events that had unfolded with their sister, they backed up and pressed hard against the curvature of the barrier furthest from Amdirlain, thrashing in the grip of the terror she inspired in them.

“Destroying us will get you nothing,” groaned one Succubus while the other pressed her lips together in a thin line.

They don’t always react identically. They also don’t handle that pain and terror well when it’s driven by my Willpower.

“What I did was to implant an understanding that will probably cause her to end her existence permanently if she can’t change her attitude significantly,” replied Amdirlain, and she waved at the struggling Succubus casually and set a sound barrier. “All she has to do is acknowledge the corruption within herself and honestly regret it. That, I’ll admit, is unlikely to happen.”

“Balnérith will crush you once she gets her hands on you,” snapped Shareva.

Amdirlain smiled. “You’re so much older than me, yet the three of you couldn’t resist my summoning. Separated and down to two already, do you believe you can get out?”

The two glanced at Phistia, who began to beat her head silently against the barrier.

“Yeah, two of you. Phistia isn’t doing so well, and I’ve implanted seeds to destroy her once she sends herself on,” confirmed Amdirlain.

“Balnérith...”

“Balnérith who?” interjected Amdirlain. “Do you still want to call her that since she changed her name? Or do you not have a Use Name of hers now? What do you call her, arrogant bitch? Demon Lady of Failure?”

At Amdirlain’s deliberate provocation, the pair ground their teeth so hard that the muscles in their jaws and necks bulged with strain. One went to rip her own throat out only to find her claws were unable to contact her skin. The other lashed out with spells again but found the barrier no longer reflected them.

“You do know Balnérith isn’t even using that name, right? Care to guess why she changed her name?” heckled Amdirlain, digging up confirmation that her new name was a secret from the three of them.

With a thought, Amdirlain ended the concealments around her Angel Killer and Lady of Butchery auras, and both succubi groaned in pained pleasure as the force of Amdirlain’s Charisma bore down on them.

If only I knew what made Klipyl so different. Yet even she wouldn’t have reacted so differently when I first met her. Less angry? I used her as bait, and she calmed down enough to talk soon afterwards. Why did they stay Balnérith’s pawns?

As chains of recent memories were recorded, Amdirlain quickly noted the locations that held Balnérith’s message drops. Handling one of them was an individual Amdirlain had long considered catching up with. Amdirlain shifted to another Demi-Plane, its interior still unexpanded, and brought a Celestial slime Soul from the processing area, placing it in the middle.

With a moment’s focus, she uttered a name aloud for it. “Persephone.”

“What bait can I get to her through dead drops?” murmured Amdirlain. She set protections in place, along with a song to record any messages sent to their name.

Given the environment ahead, she cast shields against Electricity to bolster her earned resistance.

I’ll need to monitor the drop locations. Hopefully, she’ll approach them directly to drop off instructions. What if she doesn’t approach all the way herself? I can always set a perimeter of crystals to monitor for a Fallen coming anywhere close to them. Hmm, that won’t be enough. It could be decades—or never—before she directly speaks to them or comes to a drop point. I need a way to lure her out or get something taken to her. Both?

A momentary internal debate was all she needed to decide her approach. Amdirlain’s Planar Shift took her to an empty Demi-Plane, and she created a vast stone field with jutting shattered towers rising from it. On an enormous parade ground, she arrayed all the mithril constructs she’d made and set a wind to swirl across the expanse, to coat them with dust. When the display was done, she leapt into the sky and got a bird’s eye view of the vast army that stood silent beneath her.

That should be enough window dressing for the bait.

Another Planar Shift caused her to jump deep into the Abyss and materialised atop a canyon lip. Torrent lived up to its reputation, with lightning cascading from the sky to smash down around her. Azure bolts burned the surrounding air, washing her nostrils with the sharp metallic tang of ozone and burning corruption. More bolts speared down into the yawning maw before her, or earthed themselves into the massive ore-veined stone spikes that grew from its side. The smallest spike extended at least six kilometres from the canyon’s side, with a base that would cover multiple suburbs.

From the canyon’s depths, barely audible above the thunderous blasts that followed each bolt, came the screams of the dammed. The succubi’s memories had provided details of the boiling river that descended the rapids within the canyon, violently battering the souls into serrated rocks along the shoreline and in the shallow waters. Her Planar Shift had placed her on the lip above an Abyssal city set along this part of the canyon’s wall. The sides of the spikes and canyon walls carried countless balconies. Among them, Amdirlain spotted the doorways of houses and businesses alike. While most of the inhabitants flew on the rising air current from the river, others used carved paths for brief trips or walkways that hung between the protrusions and bucked about in the violent winds that rose from the water.

Unspoken desire caused her garments to shift from dark green to jet black, and Amdirlain dropped towards the closest balcony. Demons scattered from her landing except for one larger fellow, who Amdirlain slowed. While her gaze fixed on him, the crowd of demons continued to flee, some jumping from the balcony, their wings snapped open far below.

The Demon who Amdirlain had focused on was the smartest present; his body mostly resembled a silverback gorilla but had a piggish face and toddler-sized bat wings. Before her arrival, he’d leaned casually against the wall, chewing on a sword-length skewer of rotting meat. Amdirlain’s appearance caused the creature to snuffle fearfully as her auras wrapped around him. “What can I do for you, great one?”

“Directions,” rumbled Amdirlain, ensuring he heard clearly.

The Demon glanced at the vacant space around him as the closest demons fled. His gaze shot to the balcony’s unprotected edge, but Amdirlain stepped in his way. “Do you need a guide?”

“Just point me towards ‘The Heated Pouch’,” ordered Amdirlain.

“If you’re seeking a Succubus whore, there are better places,” replied the Demon.

Amdirlain snarled. “Answer my question, or I’ll test how far your head flies.”

“No need to test,” protested the Demon, even as he pointed along the balcony. “Go that way. Pass eight staircases and, on the ninth, go down sixty-two levels. You’ll see signs then if no one has ripped them away.”

The quick and detailed response drew an edged smile from Amdirlain. “You’re an expert in whores?”

“Have to know what ones my coins will get me,” grunted the Demon.

The honest response drew a dry laugh from Amdirlain, and she left him alive.

As she strode along the balcony towards the stairs he’d indicated, Amdirlain orientated his directions with the memories she’d drawn from the sisters. She pushed her Charisma into her auras and Dominion together to add to her auras’ impact. The effect caused demons for hundreds of metres in a sphere around her to shiver and drop to their knees in fear. Quickly filtering out the distortion, she traced the path ahead with Resonance, found the signs the Demon had referred to, and traced them to the brothel.

The illustration on the stone took up most of its thirteen-metre-high frontage, making it clear exactly what the place’s name meant. Amdirlain teleported into place and opened the door between the pictured Succubus’ guiding hands. With her auras leading the way, all activity within the business froze, and the two young succubi tending to the front saloon fell to their knees—black-haired and red-lipped with corpse-white skin. Copper chains whose colouration popped from the white skin framed their ripe curves beneath.

Both are low-level dominators.

“I will speak with the owner immediately,” growled Amdirlain.

The closest Succubus mouthed soundlessly like a landed fish, and Amdirlain eased the pressure of her auras.

“Only the manager is in,” gasped the Succubus.

Amdirlain stared at her coldly and let a desire to kill them all leak into her voice. “Fetch Naz’rilca.”

The Succubus mewled desperately. “You know her, great one?”

It seems I enabled a default begging mode.

“Fetch! Her!”

Both succubi ran.

I’ll just need to channel being a bigger psychotic bitch than the act I put on for Mor’lmes when we first met.

At the evidence of two home planes within her essence, Amdirlain sealed Naz’rilca’s ability to move dimensionally and monitored the sprinting demons’ path.

I’ve got more Home Planes I can set. Once I’m done, I should take care of that as well. While there isn’t anywhere else I want to link myself, it is better to expand my safety net and not need it than want it when I’m trapped again.

With a disinterested glance at the patrons around the salon, Amdirlain tilted her head towards the front door. The strongest that needed a physical exit slaughtered the others while getting away.

Upstairs, Naz’rilca faced barriers that first herded her out of her office to encounter the young succubi bearing news of her arrival. She herded the trio towards the stairs and blocked the entrance to every room she tried.

By the time Naz’rilca stopped trying to get out of other exits and came downstairs to face Amdirlain, the foul blood and body parts had begun to turn into a congealed mess.

Naz’rilca had abandoned the lean leather-clad appearance that the sisterhood enforced and instead looked to be an overly lush, ivory-skinned Elf with deep mahogany wings whose ridges carried the numerous hooks and spikes of one spawned on Culerzic despite her born state. The hue of her wings and black gossamer attire made the ruby-red of Naz’rilca’s lips pop.

She took a shaky step into the room, already panting from the pressure of Amdirlain’s auras. Desperately, she tried to absorb as many details as possible about Amdirlain before her gaze fixed upon the mess on the floor behind her.

“I thought I’d do you a favour, Naz’rilca,” purred Amdirlain. “One that I’ll expect you to repay.”

Naz’rilca’s gaze struggled to focus. “What sort of favour?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know who and what killed you?” Amdirlain inquired, keeping her smile contained as Naz’rilca’s theme shifted from lustful to violent rage.

“With respect, great one, I already know,” grumbled Naz’rilca. “And they are already beyond any efforts of negotiation or revenge.”

Amdirlain waved absently. “You know what your executioner intended for you to learn. You believe it was an attack by the now deceased God Set, correct?”

“Are you planning to point the finger at one of your foes instead?” scoffed Naz’rilca weakly. “I don’t see what that gains you by helping me.”

Amdirlain smiled smugly and added the press of Dominion to her auras, drawing a low moan of desperation from Naz’rilca as she sought to stay on her feet.

“Are you done?” asked Amdirlain.

“Yes, great one,” whimpered Naz’rilca, and mewled more demonically flowery apologies that turned Amdirlain’s stomach.

“Well, I am planning to point you and your former lady at my enemies with the truth,” replied Amdirlain. “The sisterhood was manipulated into serving as a knife to threaten Set. He didn’t destroy the fortress’ gatehouse—another performed that ritual.”

Naz’rilca swayed drunkenly and tried to concentrate on Amdirlain’s words. “What evidence do you have?”

“Do you know how hard it is to prevent sympathetic magics from connecting to a target?” asked Amdirlain. “Especially if you have multiple connections available. Say if you have a demoness’ mother and father, along with their several times over grandmother doing the casting. You were the target, and thus the destruction of the gatehouse centred on you.”

With Epochē’s name on Naz’rilca’s lips, Amdirlain struck first. The Ki Strike shattered Naz’rilca’s jaw and drove bone just far enough into her throat to turn the name into a gurgled scream.

Let’s keep my explanation simple.

“Your many-times-removed-grandmother is a Goddess now. She achieved a Demi-God state by feeding off the divine energy of Set, and stole the divine power of other gods,” said Amdirlain, casually pinning the writhing Naz’rilca to the floor with her foot. “Are you truly dumb enough to invoke her name in this conversation? I don’t know why you remain loyal to Balnérith, but as your grandmother would say, you’re now at a crossroads. I know she warned you about dying on knife blades, so I’ll be clear—try to speak her name again, and I’ll peel your flesh from your bones and then follow you to your other Home Plane.”

It took a few minutes, but eventually, pieces of Naz’rilca popped back into place, and mauled flesh regrew. “Balnérith will want evidence.”

“There was a Gilöglp named Tras’laqì at the fortress on Hrz’Styrn who was her spy. He provided her with many details of the fortresses’ wards, the sisterhood, and other more precious items,” Amdirlain replied, smoothly mixing lies with truth. “He was destroyed following your death there. Do you think perhaps he learnt too many of her secrets? His relatives likely know more about who his real employer was for millennia.”

“Why tell me?”

“Your grandmother made many enemies in how she left the Abyss,” replied Amdirlain. “Do you think the fragments of the sisterhood might profit from some of those enemies? Your special Class might be no more, but there are more ways to acquire Power than that single Class. In case your fear-addled mind missed it, Balnérith knows how to train up regiments of assassins and soldiers, and I’m willing to sponsor a vast horde. I’ll leave you a gift to present to her.”

Naz’rilca coughed, and a gob of blood splattered onto the floor. “What sort of gift?”

“Have you heard of The Exchange?”

“Who hasn’t?” grunted Naz’rilca.

“How do you think Balnérith would benefit from a Demi-Plane of her own?”

Naz’rilca gasped. Disbelief was the first emotion, but it warred with her awareness of the intensity of Amdirlain’s presence. “How?”

Amdirlain shaped a memory crystal from ectoplasm beside Naz’rilca’s face to allow her to see it form from the spiritual ooze. “That contains some details of a Demi-Plane that a cabal of wizards left empty after they destroyed each other. We’ll have to negotiate a few aspects of my sponsorship before she learns the Demi-Plane’s name.”

Within the crystal, Amdirlain set a linked Song to be triggered by the touch of a Fallen or Demon Lady, unsure which classification might apply to Balnérith’s state.

“I’ve no way to contact her,” groaned Naz’rilca.

The partial lie plucked from her thoughts provided Amdirlain with the protocol for alerting unknown watchers that something had arrived at the dead drop. The downside was that Naz’rilca could not know when someone had passed the news.

“But you still hear from her,” insisted Amdirlain, pressing down slightly harder.

Naz’rilca wiggled under the pressure, and her theme clarified the extent of her enjoyment. “How do you know that?”

“I’ve spoken to other former sisters and was told this was a place to pass information along to her,” declared Amdirlain. “One mentioned that requests she’d left here had received action.”

“We’re not former sisters,” protested Naz’rilca, her pride clinging to the order.

Amdirlain snorted. “No, of course you’re not former sisters. You’re still sisters. Yet your order no longer has your Blood Monk Class, nor do you have a single fortress left standing. Tell me, you’re a sister of what blood exactly? War rampaged through Balnérith’s accomplishments, leaving only rubble. If Balnérith can accomplish some simple goals, I’ll provide her with resources to rebuild.”

“If?” wheezed Naz’rilca. “You’d insult one whose aid you seek.”

A slight downward pressure from Amdirlain’s foot set Naz’rilca’s ribcage near collapse.

“The crystal I created will slowly decay. Ensure you contact me when she receives it. Remember to contact Persephone,” advised Amdirlain, speaking over Naz’rilca. She repeated the name until she was sure Naz’rilca had taken it in.

“How much time do I have?” groaned Naz’rilca from the floor.

“Less the more you speak. This is for your interruptions,” said Amdirlain. With her foot braced between the Succubus’ wings, Amdirlain ripped both from her back. “Don’t make me come looking for you, Naz’rilca. I’ll enjoy myself far more if I have to come back.”

The two succubi on the stairs whimpered and moaned, even though the eldest looked at her mother’s back with an expression twisted by vicious spite.

With Naz’rilca dealt with, Amdirlain teleported near another dead drop on Torrent.