Champion, Chapter 86: Those Who Sow Darkness

AidanThe RealmsFirstday, 5th week of the 11th month, Age of the Chosen 1Mid-EveningMist Stalker Territory, Mistvale Highlands

After the expeditionary force made camp for the night, Aidan summoned the strike team members to the command tent. Eldrid insisted on attending as well. "I swore an oath to bring you back in one piece. I can't very well do that by sitting on my thumbs topside, can I?" In truth, Aidan didn't argue very hard. He knew first-hand how strong she was. They'd need every advantage they could get against a dragon in its lair.

"Now that we're all together," he said to start the meeting, "I want to discuss the battle plan. We have the general outline prepared, but most of us have never worked together before. It would be helpful to know some details about how everyone fights so we can refine our strategy."

The rest of the table—save Conor, the Mist Stalker summoner, who sneered at Aidan—nodded, so Aidan continued. "I'll start. I am a multi-school mage with an emphasis on Fire Magic and Vivimancy. Most relevant to the upcoming fight, I'll be providing heavy lifting with defense-negating fire attacks. I also have one combat-suitable area-effect heal available. Unfortunately, most of my Vivimancy spells are too slow to be useful in this encounter."

Eldrid followed Aidan's lead. "I'm Eldrid, a Captain of the Snow-Water Riders under contract with Lord Aidan."

"Not the only way she's under him," Conor murmured just loud enough for everyone else to hear. Eldrid ignored him.

"I am a water-focused mage capable of defending and attacking at the same time with the same spell. I can create and manipulate pure water. This is notable because water without any impurities mixed in is immune to lightning. As such, I will be acting as a shield for Aidan."

"How many people can you protect?" Aidan asked.

Eldrid shrugged, which did lovely things to her breasts in the tight, cleavage-baring leather top she had on. "If all the attacks are coming from one direction, all of us, if we do not stand too far apart."

"Okay, good, that's something to keep in mind. Karsarrym only had to wait for a second or two between breaths when I fought him last time. Neutralizing that takes a load off my mind."

One of the gargoyles was the next to speak. "I am Stamatia of the Sapphire Sky. I am a warrior who specializes in destroying well-defended targets. My attacks shred both physical and magical protection over time."

"And I am Iossif of the Sapphire Sky," her companion said. "My specialty is opposite to Stamatia's. Where she tears down the enemy's defenses, mine build up to counter them. The longer I fight, the more resistant I become to my foes' attacks."

"I assume Stamatia will wear the life-saving amulet, then?" Aidan asked. The gargoyle in question nodded her stony head. He turned his attention to the rest of the party. "Stamatia and Iossif will be the first into Karsarrym's lair itself, as they are the most resilient. Once they have the dragon's attention, I'll be next in. If everything goes perfectly, I can end the battle with a single strike."

"I will be in the second wave as well," Ysbail said. "I am Ysbail, for those of you who do not know me. I am an Adventurer and an Aura fighter." A surprised murmur went around the table at that. None of the others except Eldrid were present for the festivities, so they didn't see her demonstration there. Even Conor looked impressed. "I also have Talents that make me stronger as I take damage and a lot of experience hunting big, dangerous monsters."

"Ysbail cut off the last ten feet or so of Karsarrym's tail in our first encounter," Aidan explained. "So those of you with dragonscale gear have her to thank for it. She also took at least one of his attacks head-on and survived."

"Two," his teacher said with a grunt. "Fucker hits fast for its size, but its strikes are easy to see coming. Not a creature of subtlety, this one."

"Valuable insight. I thank you," Iossif said, inclining his head.

The harpy spoke up next. "You may call Wingsergeant Alkelda. I am an archer focused on individual high-damage, high-accuracy strikes from long range. I spoke with Lady Anwn about her experience fighting our foe. I will have more success than she did. Her Class is about hunting and cooperating with her animal allies. Mine exists solely to slay dangerous enemies from afar with a bow and arrow. I," she said with a faint smile, "am not a subtle creature either. All I bring to the table is damage."

She also had a quiver full of enchanted dragonbone arrows, while Anwn wielded plain wood-and-steel hunting arrows. Aidan didn't bother bringing that up. He was sure Alkelda's confidence was earned and doubted Anwn would care about the comparison.

"Will you be able to fire through a thin curtain of water?" Eldrid asked.

The harpy sergeant tilted her head, setting her golden-brown crest feathers bobbing. "Easily. The question is how much it will affect my accuracy and distance. I have no more desire to be electrocuted than anyone else here, so I would appreciate an opportunity to test it, Captain."

Eldrid nodded her agreement.

"Your magic will not interfere with mine, Captain Eldrid." This time it was the wolven mage who spoke. "My name is Enys le Caradec. My spells do not require a path to their target, so feel free to wrap me in your waters. I practice Necromancy. Specifically, I can wither an enemy's strength, fill their veins with necrotic poison, and worsen any wounds they take. As long as I have enough time to work, I can guarantee the dragon will die, though not quickly."

"It's always good to have a reliable backup," Aidan said. "Although I'd rather we win outright."

"No ghosts or ghouls?" Conor asked the robed and veiled woman. "Disposable minions would be handy."

Enys's head whipped around to face the Mist Stalker. "You offer grave insult," she hissed. "If our purposes were not joined by outside forces, I would demand satisfaction."

"Oh, I'm sure I can satisfy you," the insufferable man said with a leer. "All night long."

"Careful," Eldrid said with an affected yawn. "She could make your dick rot off—assuming it has not already done so."

"Conor," Aidan interrupted before things could devolve further, "you're the last one. We already know you're a summoner. What sort of creatures will you be bringing to the fight?"

Conor bared his teeth at Eldrid but let her remark pass. "My Cainechbrin Titanopede is much too large to bring into the lair, alas." Aidan had to agree. While he hated the brinksmanship of its summoner, the massive arthropod was a match for Karsarrym in size and would have been a valuable addition. "Fortunately, I am the best summoner in the region and have other options. For this fight, I would suggest either the Crimson-Veiled Terror or a pack of Blood-Bound Dakhol Reavers."

A pack of dakhols? Aidan still had vivid nightmares of what two of those things could do. "The former," Conor explained, "is an incorporeal entity that multiplies and grows in power as those around it become wounded. It will offer a large advantage in a longer fight. The dakhols are nasty little things with immense strength and regeneration. The variant I summon have linked life-forces, so none of them die unless they are all slain."

"Jesus," Aidan whispered to himself, thinking about how the Battle for Ceallach Macht would have turned out if they'd fought a pair of those. The second one only retreated because they'd managed to take out the first. Giving something with high-speed regeneration the ability to survive a lethal wound was terrifying.

Eldrid's fingers digging into his thigh kept Aidan from flashing back. "Conor," she asked with slow, careful enunciation, "we know that you are a summoner, but that is a magical art available to all schools. Which do you practice in specific?"

"Why, did dear Searlas not tell you?" Conor grinned, baring predator's fangs. "I am a Sanguimancer." A blood mage. Aidan felt the color draining from his face.

"Those women you brought," he started to say, then trailed off into horrified silence.

"Any life's blood will do," the Mist Stalker mage confirmed, "but I prefer to get as much use out of my sacrifices as possible. So much more economical that way. Waste not, want not, they say."

Aidan teetered on the edge of violence. This went far beyond the pale. Bringing a handful of pleasure slaves along was bad but only made him an asshole. This? The cold, calculated logic going into Conor's decisions and the glee he took in announcing them turned Aidan's stomach. Not only did the man intend to murder the women to fuel his magic, he chose women so that he could get more use out of them beforehand.

And to top it all off, Aidan would be complicit in those murders. His fingers twitched, starting the gestures for Blade of Burning Wrath. A single strike is all it would take. A hand touched his shoulder. "Careful," Cai whispered in his ear, "if you act now, Chief Searlas would have no choice but to retaliate." Louder, for the benefit of the others, she said, "A messenger just arrived from Ceallach Macht. The courier has letters for several at this table."

Aidan flexed his fingers and let his hand fall. Cai was right. It would start a war he didn't want and couldn't afford. That didn't make the pill any less bitter. "Now that we've all been introduced, I'd like if we could drill together over the next few days. In groups, at least, if not as a whole. Ysbail, can I rely on you to work up a plan?"

"Of course, Lord Aidan," she said with a sharp nod.

"Since your summons require such a limited resource, you are excused from the training exercises, Conor." Aidan did his best not to give the other man any more satisfaction than he already had. It wasn't easy. "And with that, I believe we can adjourn for the evening."

No one needed to be told twice. Even Conor seemed to accept that he'd counted coup and departed without further provocations. When Aidan, Eldrid, and Cai were alone again, he silenced the tent and let out an enraged scream. "May the Gods damn that bastard to the deepest, darkest level of Hell. What the fuck, Searlas?"

Before he could build up too much steam, Cai stopped him again. "I believe this might be relevant, my Lord." She handed him a letter bearing the Mist Stalker Chieftan's seal stamped in wax. "Call it a hunch."

Eldrid crowded in as Aidan tore the letter open. It spoke volumes of his state of mind that he didn't even notice her soft breasts pressing against his back.

Dear Lord Aidan,

I hope this letter finds you well. By now, you should have rendezvoused with Conor, my personnel contribution to your expedition against the wyrm Karsarrym. With any luck, he didn't push you far enough to fry him on the spot, but I could not blame you if you did. Personally, that is. I would, unfortunately, be forced to take retributive action once I found out. I am thankful that you surround yourself with good people—I am confident they will keep you from ruining a good thing.

If Conor has not told you already, he is a blood mage. All of his strongest summoning spells require the sacrifice of sapient beings. I am sure by now you are cursing my name, but the opportunity you provided me was too good to pass up. You gave me the plausible deniability I have lacked for years.

If I could afford to kill him myself, I would have long ago. Unfortunately, he is both well-connected and my single strongest military asset. However, as part of the Sapphire Star Alliance, he is no longer vital to my peoples' continued survival. Thank you for that. I do not know or care how you convinced the gargoyles to support it, but it has given me hope for a long-lasting peace between all our people.

Regardless, if you can ensure Conor does not return from the dragon's lair, I will owe you a great debt. If his death is—or appears to be—entirely in the line of duty, even better, but as long as you refrain from outright murdering him, I will make it work on my end. He is not as bad as Ailill, but I think your Goddess will still appreciate a chance to purify another corrupt soul.

Yours in confidence,

Chieftan Searlas mac Mora

PS. Do not bother keeping this missive as blackmail material. It is written in magical ink and will fade once you are finished reading it.

Aidan crumpled up the letter, then burned it with a thought. "I don't know whether to bless Searlas or curse him," he said. His throat still hurt from his scream a moment earlier.

"Why not both?" Eldrid quipped. "Seriously though, he's a snake in the grass. The question is whether he's a viper or a kingsnake."

"Everything I've seen says he's got his peoples' best interests in mind, but by all the Gods and Powers, he's infuriating to deal with. It's like he's incapable of not manipulating people into doing his dirty work for him."

"I cannot speak on matters of state like this," Cai interjected, "but I do have more letters for you, and these should be less troublesome." She handed Aidan four more letters. Each was sealed with his own crest pressed into colored wax—green, gray, blue, and gold. "I will leave you to them. Good night, my Lord."

"Thank you, Cai. Good night."

Cai turned to leave, then hesitated and looked over her shoulder at him. "One more thing, if I may, Lord Aidan. Speaking as the head of your bodyguards, I would appreciate it if you did not silence your tent at night. Back at home, where there is only a single entrance and exit, things are different, but you are vulnerable out here. Silencing the area deprives your guards of one of our two best senses for detecting danger before it is too late."

"Ah, yes, point taken. I just didn't want to, well," he trailed off, blushing.

"Lord Aidan, everyone knows what goes on in here at night." Cai's voice was dry as a desert. "Captain Eldrid did not even bring a tent of her own. Besides, I have both seen and heard you before and will again. You indulge Lady Brighid's exhibitionism perhaps a little too liberally." So saying, she ducked out of the tent.

Aidan blushed all the harder.