Asheron's Fall: The Power of Ten, Book Six

Mikal McMikal had thought the map of Dereth in the Markspace was great before, continually being updated in real time, slowly pushing into the new territories here and there as Marked poked at the unknown edges and filled things in.

This aerial survey from above was utterly surreal, and the biggest proof imaginable that Dereth wasn’t a natural place, but put together by beings moving earth on a colossal scale.

Geomancers, the Lady Magos called them. Beings capable of shaping terrain on a geographic scale. Legendary abilities and spells.

What it did do was make precision Linejump insertions totally possible.

While the view from above was not the same as from the ground, it was still possible to work out what was where by positions and the sheer detail of her survey.

Thus, a jump from the hills of Yaraq south-southeast across the waters, coming in a mile over the swamps that the Incunabula Vault was located in, was totally possible. With the right heading and distance, he’d been less than a quarter-mile off target, seeing the clearing from above and easily sliding down the air towards it while Invisible.

Cloudstepping Sandals misted a ski-course for him, but he didn’t do anything fancy. His job was to get there, plant a Seal Focus for teams to lock on and use to arrive here in a safe place, and then head on out to the Amperehelion Vault on the other side of the Obsidian Ring.

It were a bit of overland running to the southeast, aye, but nothing that he hadn’t done in his youth, and more than once at that.

Because he could, he whispered the words to the Detect Lived-Line as he slowly descended unseen from the sky.

Below him, streaks of motion covered the ground and flitted off in all directions. If he stared at them, he could see faint after-images of himself, shadows from long ago, clad in different armor and attire. They were centered on two points in space, coming out of one and into another: the entrance and exit to the Vault way back then, from a good twenty years past and more, when he’d spent a lot of time in here.

He’d done his share of exploring the area around the Vault, run back and forth from the small outpost of Wai Jhou more than once, and even headed north to Fort Tethana. One of the important things about Lived-Lines was their continuity, as you couldn’t Teleport along them if there were breaks between where you were and where you’d been.

He’d used Portals to get around a lot back then, but even so, he’d done some exploring on foot, actually run the roads and routes between those Portals at one time or another, and crossed paths with himself in so doing, linking old Lived-Lines together by actually hoofing it instead of just popping around on the winds of magic.

The lines below had the silvery edge that said they were connected to his greater lived-line. Places like Freebooter’s Island or the like, cut off from the mainland and only accessible by magic, would have shown darker, shadowed lines that would only light up if he were to cross them and make them ‘current’.

Standard Teleports wouldn’t work across the water without the Lines, either. You had to Linejump them, which meant aiming and praying… or using a fantastically accurate Markspace Map to drop yourself from altitude in on a target.

It was why Princess Kristie ran across the waters to new places, establishing that Lived-line connection over the sea. He’d done the same alongside her, so when it was time, he’d be able to Teleport to the Vesayan islands and away, as needed.

There were a lot of people hoofing it to places they’d only visited by Portals in the past, looking to establish that Lived-Line connection so they could Teleport there unerringly when it was time.

The Mick let the affirmation of his past travels fade away, noting the surrounding Summons with professional interest.

Oddly enough, there were no olthoi outside the Incunabula Vault, which was hardly surprising. There were no Acid Elementals inside it, after all, merely a whole bunch of rapidly-spawning olthoi fit to temper young warriors with fair to poor weapons, feeding them Levels and giving them experience against the bugs.

At least, that’s what it had been back then, at the start of his career.

No, the surrounding Spawns were sclavi, burun, guruk, various golums dominated by trios of diamonds, and some wisps of various kinds, all of them more powerful than what were encountered in Osteth.

More unnatural shite. Why did all the powerful things gather to the Direlands? Aye, there might be some powerful magic here that allowed them to evolve tougher and stronger, and the fact only certain areas in Osteth could support high-Level opponents did make that logical.

But it didn’t change the fact that such creatures should press into Osteth and its weaker creatures, forcing them out or killing them over time.

The olthoi here were prime examples. Landscape spawns of Olthoi in the Dires here were common, despite the fact that the olthoi ecological invasion was found absolutely nowhere, and the grievvers that preyed on them had spread here as well. Those spawns were, by and large, stronger and more powerful than the Summons that popped up in the Olthoi North.

It was like the Hives had sent all their toughest stuff out here with the other nasty shite to test out the strong, which had been a plenty fine explanation back when he couldn’t tell a PC from an NPC, and running a Quest fifty times in a row made perfect sense in the world.

Now, it made no damn sense at all, and the rapidly increasing strength of the true olthoi and their Summons in the Olthoi North showed the bugs had stopped drinking that particular brand of ale, as well.

Yet, somehow, there were still plenty of olthoi spawns in the South Dires, and he doubted they’d be much different when he moved out of these swamps.

If he remembered correctly, the sclavi and burun spawns had changed when the Burun Temple link in these swamps popped up. The sclavi were ostensibly rivals of the burun and so there should have been conflict between them… except Summons were stupid and didn’t inherit living biases, and so they ignored one another instead of fighting one another madly like the real ones would.

His brain had filled in the details of them skirmishing and killing one another when he couldn’t see them, but no, that wasn’t really the case, even if was implied. Summons killing one another meant nothing.

As a matter of fact, he was pretty sure that the Direlands were even more bereft of real life than Osteth was. Certainly normal creatures were few and far between, and the only ‘real’ creatures were the scattered tribal elites of drudges and banderlings and the like, and the competing powers of the Shades and the Virindi, with the Gotrok lugians and Hea tumeroks as minions of the latter. The undead, while holding the areas of Chalicmere and the Graveyard, had less presence overall in the Direlands than either of their major rivals, at least as far as Summons went.

As for actual military forces, the undead probably exceeded everyone, although those numbers would have received a distinct burn in recent weeks.

He braced himself slightly as the ground came up, and as he slid down to the ground, he transitioned to the Waveskating Step and drifted to a halt right in front of the ramp that led down into the Incunabula Vault.

The acrid smell drifting up out of the place brought back a lot of memories.

He checked the allocation of Summons around, finding none within triggering distance of this ramp, then he slid off and down the mound it was built on to another clear area nearby. Getting caught in an olthoi rush from below would not be appreciated by a team having to Portal in.

The carved granite disk with the singular Seal carved into it was placed onto a larger stone jutting up out of the swamp, and energy hissed over it for a moment as it melded into the larger stone.

“Now, then, Bunita me girl, how’s about we earn ye some Naming Karma afore we start the hoofing of it overland.”

A spiral of Lost Light wrapped up and around his arm in anticipation as he Cast the Acid, Pierce, and Slashing Banes on his Armor, followed it with Defiant to Vermin, and repeated the process on his Buckler Clan.

He Infused Olthoi Slayer into the gleaming blue-black of Bunita’s adamantine steel, turning it a deep and rather poisonous green in anticipation of what was about to happen.

If it were only as tough as it had been long ago, he could solo the entire place with ease, up and down. If instead it was upgraded, he might be able to solo his way down, but he’d have to Dimension Door up and out to extract himself after gaining his prize.

If it were now at the level of the Baishi Hive, he’d not be able to make it alone, the spawn would be too fast and catch him from behind.

Any way you looked at it, he’d find out how tough the place was for those coming after him, and the kind of fighting they’d have to endure to get their prize.

Fighting down the urge to whistle, the long blade of Bunita spiraling motes of orange and polychromatic Lost Light up and along his arm, he headed down into the darkness, the familiar bio-luminescence of the alien olthoi ecology starting to rise in front of him. He turned on his Mask of Clarity, the dim light leapt into full view, and he heard the first skittering of rubbing pincers as the olthoi registered a new scent coming down into their abode.

When the first Swarm Workers and Soldiers came for him, he came for them as well, feeling almost like coming home as he smashed into them and Bunita’s plunging point began to reap.

-----

Mikal McMikal took long and deep breaths as he retreated from the narrow doorway he’d held against the rush of the Olthoi Matron and her guards, stepping back to the Major Stinging Stone laying on the floor there. As the bodies of the olthoi Burned away, far enough away from their Seals to respawn, he bent down to pick up the glowing green Crystal, retreating to the far end of the corridor.

“A wee bit tougher than Uziz now,” he mentioned aloud, really talking to the Markspace. “The Matron has definitely evolved an’ is definitely tougher here,” he added. She had outlasted all her spawn and guards, and they had even respawned before the Mick had finally worked Bunita through her guard and impaled her through the skull. “I dinnae see any sign o’ anything working the area an’ tryin’ t’ harvest the Stone. While it might be useful as a grinding place now, ‘tis a mite pain t’ have to work yer way down through the place an’ deal with the respawns.

“However, the upper areas probably be keeping out the riffraff, an’ weren’t no real olthoi here at all. I be recommending wiping the final room clean an’ setting up a base t’ harvest here, an’ have the Lady Magos put in one o’ her coy access tunnels so that we can sneak in clever an’ clean, an’ just camp the bottom o’ the Dungeon. If we only Teleport from the surface in an’ out t’ get around the Dungeon’s Wards, an’ never go exploring t’ be tracked without coming out the main entry, we should be able to hold this place an’ harvest the Stones with nobody being the wiser.”

There was only a short amount of debate out there before that plan of action was approved. The Lady Magos would have no problem making an alternate entry point into the depths. With the Markspace Map as a perfect guide, coming out into this very room would be simplicity.