The Power of Ten

“She’s aware she’s dangerous to those around her by what she does,” Shiv said softly. “Those ridiculous nightly walks she goes on...”

Hank Blakhamar’s eyes sparkled darkly. “Jamie says the drug pushers in the whole north of the city are down by seventy percent, and none within two miles of Vrune’s place. Got four schools in that area. She says there’s a dozen kids who got recruited as pushers, and wound up in the hospital for it. The people who supplied them seem to be missing.”

Shiv narrowed her eyes, watching the slow but steady improvement of her younger brothers. With chi bolstering them, they weren’t going to get tired of this easily, and if they were getting dusty, it only stirred them to get up even faster. “How bad was it?”

“Nine dead by overdoses, dozens of addicts, big rise in petty theft to fuel the habits,” he told her quietly. “Had to bring in Amanans to break the addictions for our own.”

“They put out strains just for non-humans?...” Shiv murmured darkly.

“Aye. Worse for the humans, though.” Shiv glanced at him. “Infected with a strain of white rot that reacts to clerical manna.” Her dark eyes widened ever so slightly. “Aye, it was targeted at the poor. Six of the dead were kids from poor or broken families. One of them was an urkhar who went mad on Apop, and killed his best friend and his friend’s sister. You read about that one in the papers.”

Shiv nodded slowly. “And the op-eds from ‘concerned citizens’.”

“Imprusar.” Hank’s eyes were like jet pools, gleaming with Crystal chi. “I ever tell you I was born human, Shivaeli?”

Shivaeli closed her eyes. She knew her father was old, but not how old. Nobody knew how long their races could actually live to, but her father had not noticeably aged in the forty years she had known him, while humans greyed all around them both. “Mama mentioned it in passing once, but no, not you.”

“I was sixteen when the Shroud came, and I started to change. I used to be a head taller, a skinny little fool running from the Germans in the motherland.” He took a puff of his pipe. “They took my whole family, and I’ve not heard a lick of them in this world, even with the technology as it is now. They are somewhere under the Shroud in the motherland, dead and walking with those what killed them.” There was no gratitude or even irony in his voice, only sadness. “I was as human as any damn Imprusar, and there weren’t no magic in anybody back then, Shivaeli. Them Imprusar who got magic are no more human than I am. Them talking about human superiority is just like those Germans back then, and all their Aryan superiority.”

“They didn’t learn the lessons those fools did. What were they called?” Where the Russians were tragic victims of the Shroud, the Germans were basically fools who brought their doom upon themselves, with those they’d massacred rising up to kill their slayers.

“National Socialists. Just Aryan pigs. The same words from the Imprusar, the same hate cloaked in self-defense, self-interest... and them the ones giving the orders, of course.”

Shiv had never heard that level of old, stoked anger in her father’s voice. “There is a lot of anger in humans who didn’t get any magic, Papa,” she said softly.

“Aye, but the Imprusar don’t care about them, either, or they’d not be spreading disease among the poor,” the dwarf huffed. “You do what you have to do about them. Lots of good people in the world, and they may not care to act against those squealing about ‘representing’ them and all, but they won’t miss the bastards if they are gone, either.” He nodded slightly at Sama Rantha as Mord was sent whooping ten feet into the air, spiraling crazily. “Hagchilds be no-magic humans too, you know?”

“No human is as strong as she is,” Shiv swore.

A bushy brown eyebrow rose. “Ye’ve not seen enough humans, then. And Amazons be human enough, no?”

Shiv scowled. “They’ve got a Pact. That’s different.”

“Mmm. Perhaps. Ancients?” he went on, and she inclined her head... but Ancients were as rare as ex-Ukrainian dwarves. “Berserkers?”

“They can’t sustain their frenzy. They are nothing if you are smart enough to outlast them,” Shiv sniffed.

“I’ve a feeling there’s humans out there who can surprise you... although this one is definitely special. I’ve the feeling that even if she knows there’s heat coming down on her head for going up against the Imprusar, it won’t stop her in the slightest.”

Shiv silently agreed. That light in the younger woman’s eyes was something she’d seen in Paladins and zealots before... although tempered by a lot of cold cunning and merciless efficiency. That was a woman who believed in herself, what she was doing, and that it was for a higher cause.

Those were always very dangerous people to be around...

------

“Look, lunkheads, you’re gonna need shields,” Sama said calmly, as the three Blakhamars sat down around her. “You’re big. You’re meaty. Put any of you in a group of humans, and who is the one they are gonna want to shoot first? Who’s gonna have the hardest time finding cover?”

Everyone looked at Mohono, who raised his hand sheepishly.

“At the same time, you’re big enough and strong enough to use a shield that can actually stop small arms fire, right? Unless someone pulls out a cannon, you can just charge them? If you Enhance it, it can even stop AP.50 Cal rounds, and that’s pretty much the biggest portable thing you’re gonna see that can actually target you.”

“Yeah, they’ll save the rocket launchers for something that can’t dodge them,” Grik grinned. After all, the boys weren’t slow.

All their bumps and bruises were gone. She’d taken the sword and shield Pendant around her throat, wrapped it around her fist, and sucked all their injuries away. One of the reasons they were happy to have her as a teacher was because she could do that. The fact she could take it all without batting an eye at how painful it was meant they were all VERY respectful of her.

“Can’t use a big weapon if I got a shield,” sighed Mord, who liked getting his big paws around a very hefty axe.

“Fucking right. You want a big weapon, you make a small one that can grow that big!” Sama declared. “You can always take a proper battle-axe and use it in two hands if you need to. Requiring it? That’s utter tactical stupidity. You see your dad doing that with his Hammer? Fucking no. It’s got a telescoping hilt if he wants to smack you from a distance, and really get some leverage. But he can hang it on his belt and smack you in tight quarters with it.

“So I don’t give a shit how badly you want to swing around something with a five-foot blade on it. You don’t do it. If you can’t use it in one hand freely, you don’t take it to a fight against anything with brains, especially in this day and age, or you’ll be dead.”

“So, what kind of gun you think we should take?” Mohono spoke up. “I mean, they are probably just gonna have small stuff.” Given how huge his hands were, standard small arms were useless to him.

“You know I’m not a Gunsmith. Your biggest worry is gonna be ammunition, not the guns. The army doesn’t care if you bring custom firearms, but they don’t wanna pay for non-standard ammo. As far as ideas on that, that's Master Rutger’s territory, not mine. He served, so he knows what you’re gonna be facing, and he’ll have ways around it.

“Of course, if you got lots of money, there’s tons of magical shit you can work into Guns, just like you can Weapons. But you know what the most important thing about your Weapons is.”

“Name them!” they all said together.

“Name them and grow them.” Tremble slid out an inch behind her back without her putting a finger on it, attracting all their eyes as the pommel of the Sword seemed to be looking back at them. They all knew how dangerous that Sword was, and for all that she’d never gotten serious with it against them, they still had no desire to take her on when she was holding it. “Devote yourself to your Weapons, and they will devote themselves to you.

“Now, you can go to Rutger for a Gun, but I will make your Swords, and you know Master Vrune will make you an appropriate Axe, Mord. Let’s go over the specs of your Weapons, your Shields, and your Armor, because you freaking know the armor they have ain’t gonna fit you well, either.”

While it might seem heavy armor was out of place in a world of guns, there was too much shit that got in tight where it was needed... and Crystal Dragon practitioners weren’t any slower or less nimble than guys in lesser armor at ALL.

Yeah, it would make them bigger targets... but that was why they’d have armor.

Sama started to talk in some very precise dwarven terminology, and the boys all leaned in to listen closely, commenting here and there as it was their turn as they nailed down exactly what they wanted in their Weapons.

----------

It was Tuesday night, Fight Night.

The crowd was roaring for blood and violence, and the Circle of Blood was up, a blessing of Hurn that allowed folks to beat on one another to their heart’s content, and nobody would die. They’d just heal up quickly after they fell, and be able to stumble back out after a minute or two.

Risk-free, easy training for violent sorts, which naturally got turned into a spectator sport, which Hurn didn’t mind at all, either. Battle was battle!

Sama sat there and watched Mohono taking on Glumbel Three-Claws. The mutant troll basically earned his living and his eats in these matches, and was a nearly unbeaten king of the local circles. Technically, he didn’t even need the Circle to fight, since he regenerated, but there were people who’d walked into the Circle with flaming hands and stuff, and the brute enjoyed the protection now.

The troll stood a full ten feet tall when he straightened up, which was seldom, and his arms were over seven feet long. He was bigger than Mohono, who towered over just about any human combatant, and the two were having themselves a big slugging and clawing match.

Sama watched calmly, knowing Mohono wasn’t going to win this one. Three-Claws was a ripping, rending brute who had fought a lot, and knew his own strengths. He used his reach and greater mass very effectively, and even Mohono’s ogryn strength didn’t let him exceed the troll’s brute force.

That said, Mohono had paid big attention to his Crystal Shield, which annoyed the piss out of the troll, as glancing blows didn’t phase him at all, and he could take even powerful ripping cuts with only some bloody streaks. If he got in close to the troll, he was able to hit him like driving pistons, slamming blows that could lift the bigger creature right into the air, crack bones, and drive the wind right out of him.

Mohono had already broken Three-Claws’ jaw twice when he came in to bite with tremendous uppercuts, but he was breathing hard and stumbling now from multiple crisscrossing claw marks across his deep purple torso. The troll was healing, if slowly, and even though he’d been beaten hard, he could smell the victory, and came bounding in to finish it.

Fists and claws met, and the third claw on Three-Claws’ left side, a vestigial arm from who knew what, grabbed and ripped at Mohono’s side. Three-Claw’s foot came up with blinding speed in his rending combo as the troll pivoted so hard he wrenched his hip out of its socket, and tore a bloody path from Mohono’s waist up across his chest in one blow.

Mohono grunted and fell down, blood spraying. The judge whistled the fight was to stop before Three-Claws could move in for a lethal finish, while Mohono laid on the ground gasping, instead of trying to get to his feet.

Sama watched and waited... and waited... and waited... and her eyes narrowed.

When the ring of fire suddenly went out, her eyes snapped around abruptly, and Fall was instantly in her hand. “Shiv! Kill her!” she called out, leaping and shooting a burning bolt even as she snatched at her Healing Amulet with her other hand.