The Power of Ten: Book One: Sama Rantha, and Book Two: The Far Future

Brothers in Reality...

They came forward, a little hesitantly and reluctant, especially after their identities were announced to all and sundry. Without asking, Briggs dragged Estemar up to join the little circle, while the elven general and his Caster looked a little lost at the turn of events, not knowing exactly what was going on. Their wary fear of the two was quite obvious, however, especially the way the elfin was clutching her Staff.

The two Brothers just nodded at the pair silently; they obviously knew one another.

“I suppose I should have expected a couple of you to show up, but doing so means this is a Big Event!” I greeted them cheerfully, reaching out to shake their hands without hesitation. They kind of blinked at me in disbelief. “I’m Sama Rantha! How do you do, Brothers?”

“We… are quite well, thank you.” The dark-haired, roguishly handsome Windarrow was staring at me the same way one would inspect a loaded crossbow aimed not quite in their direction. “Your disposal of the demon was an impressive show.”

I waved it off. “Eh. I could have Unsummoned it directly, just like you, but Feeding it to the Land is much more punishing to the Four Butt-buddies, so I did that instead.” I think everyone blinked at that description of the Warp Gods. “I gather you let the sorcerer Summon it just so everyone could confirm for themselves what they were up against?”

He had That Look, as if he had just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. The two elves glanced at him coolly, but said nothing. After all, I’d also just said he could have gotten rid of it instantly and killed the Summoner, he’d just chosen not to.

He had the grace to cough. “Well, very sharp-eyed of you.” His eyes roved over me, lifted to both Briggs and Estemar, calm and assessing, suddenly a very different, subliminally dangerous vibe coming over him. “I see you all came in together. Rather an unusual grouping of you…”

“Sources, Nulls, and Powered can’t start young, but Voids can?” I looked over at Briggs. “Was that a rule somewhere?”

“Nah,” Briggs declared calmly. “Elven geniuses can sometimes Cast before they can walk.” He idly spun his Hammer off to the side between his fingers effortlessly. “He’s just whining. Eternal duty and all that makes them gloomy. I think he needs to get laid.”

Even the elves were scandalized, and the Windarrow coughed and looked aside, meeting the gaze of his smaller, silently observing compatriot.

“What, you two never dealt with Sources and Nulls before? You’ve never seen a King Among Men Making Fate?” They both looked at me in astonishment, then over at Briggs. “You haven’t! Hahahahahah!” I laughed at them, and they drew long faces that were probably not something that happened to them often.

“Wow.” Briggs eyed the pair of them, going along with things. “I always thought Void Brothers were the most experienced of the Forsaken, all things considered. Certainly the most broadly informed.” He rubbed his brick of a chin thoughtfully. “Well, maybe all that wandering putting out fires doesn’t leave much time for metalore…”

The Windarrow put out his hand abruptly. “Stop, stop.” His dark eyes looked over us, clearly somewhat off-put and not liking it. After all, they were the ones with so many secrets! “Who exactly are you?”

“Briggs, of the Stone Cliff tribe,” Briggs introduced himself. “My companion here is Sir Estemar, a Paladin late of the Order of the Rose, and the last survivor of a company of them slaughtered several miles to the northwest.”

Many eyes judged the young Paladin, making their own measurements of age. But the title of a Paladin was not something to be cast aside, even on a youth. He naturally faced them fearlessly, because Paladins are not subject to fear, and that includes embarrassment.

The fact that the two Brothers instantly deduced his lineage I kept to myself. “Great, everyone knows everyone now! Now, I know you’re trying to pull strings to do things in a subtle manner, but lay out a few of your cards now that we’re all on the same page, Brothers.” I crossed my arms and looked at them. “I’ve already informed the Borderguards of the nature of the Warp invaders, they’ve informed their superiors,” I waved at the two elves watching all of this, “and Briggs and I have informed the Rockborn, who are also moving out to oppose the incoming Warp warbands, together with the Rangers.

“Is there something else we should be aware of and preparing for?”

Both Brothers blinked at me in shock. Windarrow cleared his throat cautiously. “Well, it has been our experience that when we inform people of dire things about to take place, they are very reluctant to believe us and take action, given the costs involved. You seem to have… accelerated the process.”

“Oh, I had a Diviner inform the gods by choice of questions using magic, asking them if they knew about Warp involvement up here, asking if they could spread the word, and so forth.” My smile was unfeigned as they stared at me. “Nothing like a bunch of Divine signs, minor miracles, portents, visions, Servants popping up, and loud godly voices ringing in the brain that You Should Act On This to get things moving along, right?”

Their jaws worked soundlessly. Brother Windarrow coughed again to hide his surprise. I had blatantly manipulated the gods themselves to get the warning out? Of course I had!

“Less surprise and more factual data. Do you have an idea of how many numbers are involved?” I continued calmly.

They looked at one another, and Shadowknife shrugged. “A minimum of a warband a day is emerging from the Rift they have opened,” Windarrow spoke up frankly.

“So, a thousand to four thousand a day, in endless streams, and could potentially go much higher?” I pressed.

“That is correct. Fortunately, the Warp gods seem to be making use of mortal instead of Soulborn servants…”

“I’m assuming that’s due to rampant instability of denizens of the Warp? They’re getting squeezed out of our dimension like pimples being popped.” He blinked at my totally irreverent words, and couldn’t hide the shadow of a smile starting.

“A most appropriate analogy. Yes. However, the reality they come from is extruding into our world.” He paused to assess my totally unimpressed expression, and also Briggs’ knowing sigh. “This is also spilling a great deal of twisted energy into the local manafield, effectively rewriting some of the laws of reality around the location of the breach.”

“You said a Rift. So they tore open a hole, instead of installing a door?” It was Shadowknife who displayed some interest this time. “Brute-forcing idiots. They can be punished for it.” He pursed his lips at my words. “Do you know the location?”

“That way.” The hyn’s voice was oddly androgynous, hard to place or remember. His small gloved hand pointed very precisely. “Given the direction and a guess at the distance…”

“Yle Tyorm!” both elves spoke up at the same time, their faces crashing.

Brother Shadowknife just nodded slowly.

Yle Tyorm was a generic term, like ‘Place where Bad Things Happened.’ It was usually wound up with apocalypse, destruction, and all-around Bad Times. There could be more than one Yle Tyorm, but given the scale of things that had to happen to create one, there was generally no more than one per continent, or something.

“Lemme guess… it’s a place of dimensional instability, a real mess from the viewpoint of the ley lines, a lot of very dangerous things live there, and now the Butt-buddies of the Warp capitalized on it to set up their incursion point there?”

Shadowknife smiled slightly despite himself. “Colorful, but accurate.”

“And the mess was so bad, and the things that lived there dangerous enough, that the Brotherhood couldn’t clean it up.”

Both of them spread their hands at the exact same time, as if rehearsed. “The scale was too vast, and it regenerated, or simply twisted further as we purified small parts of it. Tearing down something of that scale would require speed and power beyond what we wield,” Brother Windarrow admitted.

“Actual Casters willing to devote the time, and a lot of materials, for an unrewarding and very dangerous task. Unrewarding optional, depending on what’s within.” I tilted my head at the two of them, tapping my cheek. “So, now nobody has a choice, and it’s even more dangerous. You’ve been warning them about this for how many centuries?” I asked archly.

“Eight and a half,” Windarrow replied promptly, his smile growing wider, and with a dangerous edge.

“Riiiight.” I glanced at the elves, who wanted to shift their eyes elsewhere. “Happily, this isn’t anywhere near as hard to address as it might seem, given the Warp-butts are giving us such a helping hand.”

Everyone except Briggs looked at me as if I were daft. I just glanced at Briggs, and he nodded after a moment of thought.

“The Rift is a very powerful source of energy,” he mused. “Blow it with a Vivic Cascade, you’re basically administering a very powerful healing spell directly to the Land. It’ll burn away the injury clean and reestablish the defaults. Not much different than searing a diseased wound and then healing the flesh injury that remains after the corruption is gone.”

“That… can be done?” Brother Windarrow looked astonished.

“Sure,” I nodded. “First step, kill about two hundred thousand Warp-born in the general vicinity of the Rift.” Everyone’s jaw dropped. “Use Obelisks to collect and concentrate the vivic energy when you burn ’em. Set up a not-correctly-built Vivic capacitor on the edge of the Rift, transfer the energy to it, and watch it blow from a safe distance.” I made an exploding gesture. “Big, big unwhite fireball. Probably eat up a significant chunk of the realm on the other side of the Rift. The Land Feeds big time. Backwash purges the area clean. Two problems, one solves the other. Very convenient.”

Everyone looked rather astounded, except Briggs. “That… would actually work?” asked Brother Windarrow, sounding both intrigued and delighted.

“Yeah, shouldn’t be much of an issue.” I glanced at Briggs for affirmation.

He grunted and nodded. “Pull up the stone with magic for the Obelisks. They’ll have to be carved out by hand, minimum three for trilateral symmetry, Rituals used to gather the excess vivus… We’ll have to compress the area being affected by the Rift down, too, or the Land will eat it up for a significant time doing the same thing.”

Everyone looked a bit confused.

“He means we’ll have to basically slaughter every warband that comes out of the area, Feed ’em to the Land, so the Land can push the Warp influence back,” I explained cheerfully. “After that, we need to build the Obelisks, defend them, then make a push right up into the belly of the Rift, plant our bomb, and then runrunrun before it blows.”

“Probably set the Obelisks on vivic flame, burn the energy coming out of the Rift to keep the spread neutral,” Briggs added, and I tipped a finger to him for that key point.

Everyone was looking at us as if we were crazy. “Can that even be done?” General Moonriver asked, his large eyes sharp. “Two hundred thousand warriors, and all their foul beasts and spells?!”

“You have plenty of aid coming, General,” I soothed him. “The Warp-butts are pissing off everyone, in every direction. There’s going to be knightly Orders coming, priests, adventurers, champions, heroes, battle-hungry idiots, vengeful souls, and more than a few soldiers. It’s going to be a bit diverse to be called a Crusade, but there’s going to be a lot of people heading up to join this fight.”

Briggs nodded. “The problem is containing the warbands. We don’t have to fight two hundred thousand at a time, we have to take them in small bites. To do the job correctly, we’ll have to be biting really, really fast. An average of twenty-five hundred new bodies to kill every day is no joke, and that’s the minimum we have to face.”

“It will require unprecedented cooperation between various forces, supply and coordination… these are not small issues!” the general continued warily.

I waved my hand. “Dunno where the supplies will come from, as I have no resources of my own, but coordination? So not a problem.”

Even Briggs looked impressed at that claim. “And how will you arrange that?” General Moonriver asked archly. “Even magical means require spellcaster support that might be required elsewhere!”

“Poo poo poo,” I waved him away casually. “Nothing so inefficient.” I flicked my hips with both hands, and my Marks lit up. “Problem solved.”

Everyone kind of gawked at the belt of Tats around my waist. “And how do those Tattoos solve the issue?” the general had to ask, trying not to stare. Probably the fem-abs...

I looked at Brother Windarrow with a bit of challenge. Totally up to it, he bent down for a closer look, and then the air swirled in front of him.

To his utter astonishment, I reached out and thorked his forehead. “Stop that, it tickles!”

He rubbed his forehead under his hood as he straightened back up, not sure of how to react. “Those are… were… Succubus Blessings?” he asked.

“This one’s sharp, Briggs,” I noted out of the side of my mouth. Briggs kept his face impassive, although this was a total surprise to him.

“No demonic energy in them.” His eyes narrowed. “Are they active?”

“Yes.” He tensed slightly. “Original sources all dead and Fed to them, of course.” He blinked again, looking confused. “They are now Master Marks. Who would like a harmonized Mark to the Stat of their choice, incidentally giving you the ability to communicate telepathically with me over any distance, or even across dimensions?”

“Whooo…” Briggs’ reaction was more thoughtful than the thunderous silence from the others. “Did you get those in Nightmare?” he asked cautiously.

“Aye, carved them right onto my soul there, then fed the carvers to them to get them actualized. Alas, I am no spellcaster, and can’t work my enchanting wiles through them upon the unsuspecting recipients.”

Every male’s eyes there popped open at the last half of that sentence, because the subvocals were singing to their hormones. I smiled toothily as they stared at me, and gave them a laugh that suddenly had them looking anywhere but at me.

Night Rose Mastery/5 ftw!