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AF Chapter 443 – Dark Rewards and Deep Understandings

  Two days later, we were grimy and grungy in soul, even if Cantrips and vivus cleaned us up of the Tainted soil and coral and shit on the Dark Island.

  But the three of us had our hundred kills, with Mick’s as a maybe.

  The key to killing the things quickly was Vulns and Imperils, of course, but only the former benefited me. Imperils stripped a lot of the Dark Isle creatures of all armor-like defenses and sent them negative, meaning a group of Summons could be killed very quickly by prudent Imperiling.

  But it all took mana, and we only had so much to go around before we had to withdraw, Meditate, and Renew the stuff, which took time.

  The creatures had a variety of vulnerabilities to damage types, and went from Aquatics like the Sleeches, to Magical Beasts like the Remorans, Construct Coral Golums, Native Outsiders in the Shades, Undead of multiple types, and Aberrants like the Mukkir. The Spawns were totally random, including respawns, so we never knew what we might be fighting, which meant changing Banes and Slayer Enhancements constantly, which sucked up mana from all the physical combatants, too.

  On the flip side, the Wolfpack teams got very good at wiping the spawns in tight clusters, even if the Healers had to be on the ball in the face of the Platinum and Incantor Magic being thrown around.

  Kris and the Mick were the primary tanks, of course, being able to resist a LOT of the magic, survive if it did come through, and still reap their opponents steadily.

  I could get the Most Damage on an opponent with one spell, usually, as long as it wasn’t Imperiled. The crits on Imperiled creatures could be silly lethal, so a Vuln would be dropped on the boss as Kris or the Mick tanked it, I’d blast it with an appropriate Shard spell turned up to nine, and then a full six people would tank it to distribute damage, with the Mick taking the killstroke on most of them.

  It was still a lot of fighting and a LOT of Healing Magic. Healing Magic sucked more mana from us, which meant more downtime, and even Healing Edge couldn’t keep up with the pounding effects, especially if someone got Vulned and slammed with a spell, basically having to pick up and run instantly if that happened. It got worse if our tanks were the target of more than one opponent, and so we had to be on the ball.

  If the first one killed in the frontspawn of four was the trigger, it also meant we could be fighting six of them at once, and the ones coming in might pick anyone as a target, too!

  Even with a score of combatants, there was no relaxing at any time. Random events could converge, things could go sideways too fast, and all this shit had to die as fast as bloody possible.

  Two days for me to get a hundred kills. I was really missing Perpetual Shards now, but nothing was allowing me to bring unlimited firepower back, and having over six hundred mana in my Pool was at least some comfort.

  Still bloody annoying.

  The Mick went first, not overly concerned with his results. He simply stuck Bunita’s Kiss up against the Barrier there, and we all felt a surge of power… and, I was pretty sure, a sensation like ‘Oh, it’s you again.’

  He just nodded as he backed off, his Claymore spinning around and being sheathed. “Most credit for the kill. It noted the killstrikes but didn’t pay them much mind,” he said easily. “Got some for Golds, too, but it’s all base Karma.”

  “No Lum?” Kris asked.

  “Seemed about a 50/50 split, actually, in relative value,” he judged, which piqued everyone’s interest. It was not a system that was conducive to all but the most coordinated Fellowships, catering to massive skilled solo players who could get kills on their own… but that was why we stressed teamwork so much, and Mnecromonics allowed everyone to track their kill credits as needed.

  Trust the people you work with.

  Kris nudged me ahead, and the Mick stood aside as I stepped up and extended Crown down into that Barrier there. I whistled something that made the manasphere shudder in acknowledgment as a truncated Name whispered out… and all the waters around this little shoal of an island went absolutely still.

  AH. YOU RETURN IN VICTORY, the manafield seemed to throb and the sky darken as that voice echoed in my ears, although still restrained and distant. THREE NIGHTS, ON THE DARK OF YOUR MOON, MY FOLLOWERS WILL GATHER ABOUT THAT ISLAND. SEE TO IT THAT YOU ARE THERE, SONGBINDER.

  Darkness flashed and flared, and Crown was released and pushed back strongly enough that the Mick had to grab me to make sure I didn’t fall over.

  “It’s an arse,” he informed me knowingly, then glanced at the head of Crown. “Well now. It used to dump Relic Armor on us for some reason when we accumulated enough trophies. Looks like it found something it liked.”

  Stolen story; please report.

  I looked at the dark shell-like Token hanging from Crown with some trepidation. It had an Aura of Water and Darkness, neither of them energies I wielded often.

  Primus thrummed on my finger. I raised Crown up, and Elemental Command surged out and around the Token.

  The ululating sound that came forth was plenty ready to be hooked into the Sublime Chord, but I wasn’t Singing right now. It still made the blood tremble, and the waves just starting to return went still and silent again as the shadow of the Name of The Deep washed past them.

  “Well, that’s definitely going to get something’s attention,” Kris spoke up as I let the sound die. “Let’s see what it has to say about me.”

  Ding!

  Quaver was out and inserted into the Barrier as the cutting edge of its tones broke over us. She stared at the darkness behind it all without flinching, and when it was done, she withdrew her Sword smoothly, it wasn’t forced back like Crown had been.

  Tinginginginginging… Even the Lost Lights about Quaver looked like teardrops, and the following flames liquid and watery.

  The sound rolled out, and once again the waters went quiet as as Kris fluttered Quaver through butterflies in easy series.

  “That is going to be extremely intimidating,” the Mick judged professionally. “Creeps me out just hearing it.”

  “I just got appointed Warlord of his forces for the escapade. It’s curious to see how I will do!” she explained with grim irony.

  “An inverted Heartsong effect carrying on a Bladedance,” I said calmly. “You’ll be able to give orders to them through the Deepsong in the middle of a fight.”

  “Might need to practice a bit with that, then,” Kris murmured, the ululating tones fading as Quaver was flipped, shrank down, and was sheathed behind her waist. “I can speak Aquatic, shouldn’t really need it, but I’m guessing it also counts as authorization.”

  “Probably seeing if you abuse it, too. The expectation is that you totally will, I think.”

  “I presume it also indicates that I’m a servant of The Deep. You?” she asked me.

  “It knows I am a Binder, and I know its Name. I could totally go requesting more power from it. It would probably approve a Pact if I asked it.”

  “Ewww.” Kris scrunched up her face. “That’s probably a really good thing not to do,” she told me.

  “Something we don’t really want t’ know about?” the Mick asked pleasantly.

  “Not with an alien Elder thing of the seas and darkness, no,” I replied evenly.

  “Pact what? Packed fer a big nasty fight? Aye, sounds right enough,” he misinterpreted loudly and smoothly. “Now, howabouts we spend a day out here on Vissidal, give the scamps a nice boost before we head home with golds.”

  “Everyone noticed that the Karma for the Awards was shared in Alliance, right?” Kris spoke up. The Roaches and Skeeters blinked, then hurriedly looked at their Assays, crying out in delight when they saw the floating Karma and Luminance there.

  “Recognition from the Deep with a hundred kills, but absolute sharing of the rewards in Fellowship and Alliance,” I confirmed. “The Deep is acknowledging teamwork, at the least, so it doesn’t matter who gets the credit, as long as everyone stays in Fellowship or Alliance,” I went on, having no problem sharing my reward. “One more day, with the break for Resurrections as normal,” I reminded them with a sigh. “Now let’s find a place to camp and get our Infusing done.”

  There was tired acknowledgment, everyone digging for pyreal bars.

  Daily Infusing and improving Gear waited for nobody but yourself, and everyone wanted better stuff now.

  The only way they were going to get it was to make it themselves!…

  -------

  Three days later, late afternoon, Moarsman Island…

  There were two full Wagons with us, with the elites of the Royal Guard and Lugian Vanguards with us, about sixty combatants all told. The Royal Family was here for this, not about to miss it, more Knights of the Lost Light, and even a couple opportunistic paramounts keen to get back to feeling uber again.

  The Salute to Aru was done, and we breached the Shoreward on the east side of Moarsman Island, an Illusionary Wall in front of us to prevent us from being seen until it was a bit too late, taking care to place it well between any Summons out in the water.

  I put Crown down, Shaped Stone, and filled it with power as the Illusion in front of us failed.

  The pale blue-white arcane flames blasted fifty feet into the air, limning a massive figure within it. A gargantuan Club in misting white Coldphasing was lifted into the air, and the sun shone off a silver suit of Armor that could probably be seen from almost everywhere on the island as Tim the Tremendous Monuga bellowed for attention enthusiastically, shaking Smasher emphatically.

  At his feet, black-furred Mowen in his own set of new Armor, clutching gleaming silvery Tusker Knuckles Named Paws now Burning white with Coldphasing, added his own hooting and howling for attention.

  The nearest Summons were about fifty yards away, gawking up at the massive form of the Tremendous Monuga, especially as Tim broke into motion right for them.

  Mowen, the Hero of the Tuskers, was right beside his big friend, and we pounded after them.

  There were hundreds of moarsmen visible within just a quarter-mile, so there was going to be no end of fun for us, but Tim was going to be inheriting a lot of attention.

  They weren’t going to enjoy his Regeneration rate at all, nor the way he would be getting Healed, either.

  Briggs was leading the Lugian Vanguard, who were each assigned the point of a Wolfpack team, their Shields all leading the way. Behind them, two Wagons with archers and mages were towed behind, and Coldphasing arrows slammed out in volley fire, pitching the toughest moarsmen around, as strong as those of Freebooters, over with every release.

  The rampage across the island began.

  ---

  Briggs plotted the course, I shot the Spawns with Dartrays, and Tim, looking for the next targets, raced Mowen to them.

  Sclavi and moarsmen went flying in icy pieces, or just went splat as the two massive combatants blew through them like tenpins. Behind them, our line of killers made sure nothing lived to the sides, clearing a path behind the two brutes about a hundred yards wide, ready to contract down as soon as resistance started getting organized… but all that was happening for the moment was confusion and panic.

  Which was fine. We weren’t invading, we were rampaging, straight across the island for the far side. Our job was to inspire them to bring in more help, sow fear and uncertainty, and set the stage for tonight.

  Having a forty-foot colossus smashing his way through your supposedly powerful servants was a nice start on doing that.

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