Chapter 8-230: Let Us Go South

There was a tingle on my finger as hitting fake Thirteen Caster advanced Einz’ next Item Familiar advance. There was an add-on feed into my perceptions as Devilsight became active, and the world, if it didn’t become brighter, was actually no longer dark, and shadows were just something I could see, instead of things that didn’t let me see. Oh, this area is shadowed, without it actually affecting my vision.

Einz was beaming happiness to me. This was an unexpected upgrade that basically ate a bunch of Karma in an instant. It was still in the middle of upgrading to Indestructible, so I couldn’t increase any other powers, but now it was definitely helping me out.

As this was happening, my Seventh Ring was burning, and at the same time, my Pool was expanding, my Metacap was rising, my five Valences were being reinforced, and my power was still growing.

Arcane flames in all sparkles and hues were burning around me as my Seventh Valence burned away, and the power redistributed itself into my other five Valences and Core. I had 4 bonus Engrams at 6, 4 Spell Slots at 6, and 3 Engrams at 7, liquidated now and giving me 69 Pool Slots, totally overwhelming my Magus Arcana and Ki at this time.

I also received another Cantrip, I, and II Spell Engram. Yeah, I’d lost 7 bonus spells learned, but I had raw power to compensate... and anyways, that was what Archwizardry was for. I don’t think anyone would think that me having just 67 Wizard spells was weak... ignoring bonuses for Wisdom, Charisma, Arcane Domain, Druidic Domain, and not even touching Spells Known for my other Classes...

Right enough, I wasn’t feeling any pain about this. It was a time delay on further spell power, but seriously, I had some downright lethal Spell Power now, even on a general basis. It only took one use of Bardic Heartsong to last for however long was needed to kill even a Shroud, and with a Constitution of 31 and 10 Ranks in Song, my voice wouldn’t give out for that entire time.

So, it would take Grenadier/2 tomorrow, catch me up, and then either start me on the Masteries I hadn’t taken, or I’d proceed to Eight, and the whole conga line dance of getting all my Fives.

I wasn’t worried about having enough Karma. Mauling millions of powerful frosty undead, on top of the fiery undead from Yellowstone, had given me enough Karma to make a gamer weep. If I cleared this second Shroudzone ahead, the Glory Award would take care of any Karma I needed for anything Ten or below, unless I went completely ridiculous on the PrC’s like Aelryinth had, but I had no real drive to do so... or the years to do so, actually.

I didn’t know what the lifespan of a halvyr was, but it was already at +70 years, and I was just accumulating excess Karma, I hadn’t even caught up with Classes yet.

Given the humungous amounts of undead under the Shroud, and the Glory awards for breaking it, there was no way I was NOT going to get to Twenty, and I should be able to get all the way to the end.

It was just there were so many other things I had to accomplish at the same time.

Elven timelessness would definitely help balance human aggression for what was likely going to be a very, very long fight.

Any link to the Shroud was going to be cold comfort at the very best. I could only steel myself for the future, and do what needed to be done.

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As both Master Fred and I had effective Devilsight, night and day were basically temperature differentials now. Riding along and enjoying the misty, close-range scenery wasn’t much fun, but the direction was firm, the Shroud was still visible up in the clouds, and we knew the direction.

There were a couple more attempts to ambush us; one with shrieking wind spirits coming down to take out the burning Fire creature here, and one with gugs, the looming double-forelimbed, split-skulled hulking brute killers of the lands of Leng, predators of both the ghouls and ghasts... and actually just about anything else that wandered within reach.

Able to easily digest undead, they were a very effective lock on the area, so I only shot down the one instantly, and the other five hastily got out of the way.

That opened the road into the Shroud, and we paused just outside the border of it, looking on from about a mile away.

The incorps we could see formed an effective scouting pattern, covering the area visually, keeping within five hundred paces of one another, and thus able to relay what they found back to their masters. As it was ‘night’, they had expanded out leisurely a couple miles beyond the true Shroud, but would be sent right back under it come the dawn, hiding from the sun.

A cold wind was blowing past us, precisely from the mountain ahead of us, and the clouds were all moving from that direction. The negative energy on the wind was soul-chilling, and the long-term environmental side-effects for this world were definitely not good. The low ambient area temperature was not a coincidence if this cold wind was the source of the air for the entire trapped world...

Luckily, I was the kind of person who could do something about this kind of thing.

“We don’t have time to wander over such a large Shroudzone hunting things.” I studied the Shroud ahead through narrowed eyes. “This Shroud is not large because of numbers of undead, it’s large because this is conflux of magical power, possibly the central ley line for the stuff on the whole floating continent. There are probably fewer undead here than there were back outside, in the end. So, we just have to force them to return to the center in order to clear this place.”

-You’ll be able to lock down the Shroudlord?- he /asked for confirmation.

“Once I clear out his chaff guards, I’m going to Seal him up inside a Greysphere, line it with stone, and sit there and wait as his slaves are forced back to him regardless. We can probably start the process just by slaughtering our way right towards him. The restrictions on visibility will be annoying, but shouldn’t slow us down much. I expect to be popping more Pyroclasms.”

-Which should help with the visibility problems,- he /noted wisely, and it was true, to a certain extent.

I was also going to be getting in a lot of Meta and spell practice, without a doubt. Hopefully the Shroudzone could keep me Casting steadily...

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Casting Detect Undead outdoors here ramped up the detection range to a full 400+40 feet per Caster Level when Cast out of a V Slot. That overlapped nicely with Master Fred’s ability to sense all sorts of Evil at 360’ ahead, or 180’ all around. So, he could alert me to any unusual surprises, I could range out looking for undead, and snipe them when I couldn’t even visibly see them. Seeking spells were so good at such things.

Thus, our progress was about Sleipner finding a way forwards; Master Fred scanning for surprises, being in reserve, and dealing with anything directly ahead of us; and me sitting there with my eyes closed, singing softly, magic flaring inside the psychoplasm of the fogs, and Rays and Shards flashing away from me, plunging through the grey banks and streaks and clouds and mists to find their targets.

The undead couldn’t really get close enough to even see us, especially with the fogs in the way, and couldn’t sense our life energy, since I’d Astral Warded both of us. They could see their neighboring undead getting targeted by blindingly brilliant and eye-catching streaks of silver edged in all sorts of radiant energies, and relay that on, but they couldn’t really make out what the source of it was with all the mists and winds... and the fact they were so bloody far away, and we were basically moving faster than a very fast horse.

They didn’t really have anything I called a defense, because why would they need one? If someone attacked, sure, they could surge and past the undead... and then at dusk, everything they had killed would come back, surround them, and slaughter them, if not then, then the next day, or the next day.

There was no stopping the return of the undead, so who would be stupid enough to attack?

Well, they didn’t know they wouldn’t be coming back, but the speed and power of our advance was still generating a lot of attention. Things were converging from the sides as we continued on, Detect Undead ranging out for five hundred meters to all sides to tell me what I wanted to know, one thoughtstream holding concentration on it steady while I picked out targets, and send Shards and Shardrays zipping out to take out their targets.

I’d put a Druidic variant of Find the Path called Trailfinder on Sleipner, and he was using it to navigate the path to the central peaks quickly, smoothing out the ride with his Ward-Riding to ease any jumps and shocks. Our progress was very steady, soon entering the higher foothills, and I spent Environmental Adaptation to adjust to the thin air, which wasn’t a problem for Master Fred.

Silently, smoothly, and with killing pyrotechnics erupting in any and all directions the undead were coming from, we proceeded on through the lonely, tomb-haunted hills of this place.

Seriously, haunted tombs seemed to be everywhere, mysteriously popping up on hills and hillsides all around us, cold and lonely, carved in styles both human and not, some obviously seeing use as temples, others crumbling and forgotten monuments to who knew what. They were intriguing and I wanted to investigate them, and could only mark them in my Visual File, clear off any chaff around them my spells could reach, and keep right on going.

If something from within was pretty quick and chased after us, bonus. Its guardianship ended rather quickly.

More numbers of undead were gathering ahead of us. They naturally had more knowledge of choke points and defenses, having erected walls, pits, traps, or ambushes here and there.

They didn’t like it when I naturally felt them there, and if I had to fly up and bombard them from above after wiping out their air or incorporeal cover, I was perfectly happy to do so. I had no problem seeing their insubstantial incorps trying to hide inside the rocks and things, so when they tried to ambush us, they instead got some lethal surprises back.

There weren’t many such places, but there were more than enough undead to keep me topped off as I renewed Sleipner’s Trailfinder spell and our progress continued, rising up the foothills into the mountains, going over and between them on narrow trails laid down by ages of feet and creatures probably not human...

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The mist was mostly gone, because the fog it was based on couldn’t endure here. It was too cold, and the air was too dry for the precipitation.

We were at least four miles up, looking up from the slopes of a lesser mountain to the unnatural spire that formed the heart of this land.

It was bigbig at its base, but its slope rapidly rose to sixty degrees as it passed into the death zone for altitude, and it was a good seven miles at its peak up there. I could see the wavering of air motion streaming down from above, and the moaning chorus falling down reverberated in the air. Carved by wind-action or crazed hands, the torrent of Elemental Air descending from the void was being channeled into some truly irritating howls and sepulchral moans. The shadows of the elemental and undead spirits cavorting about it fully displayed how lost in its madness they were.

-Probably going to have to shut off your hearing,- I /advised Master Fred, who just nodded. That ghostly moaning was only going to get louder.

The mountain itself was dotted with caves here, there, and everywhere, and Master Fred verified that most of them were venting out gale-force winds constantly, and they seemed to be even colder than the air coming down from above.

So, something in the place was cooling it even further. Wonderful, but hardly unexpected. It was what I was here for, after all.

Not that the Shroud itself wasn’t helping. I might have to do something about that...