Chapter 13-372: Places to Go, Things to Do

Sleipner was earning his extra stuff every day, too. Veilwalking and his speed made him the absolute best way to get a Lived-Line to anywhere, as long as you could fuel his Ward-ride. That generally required a Warlock with a Ward at /4 or higher, of course, but those were a lot more common than they used to be, and conscripting one to serve as a driver for the two of them wouldn’t have been all that hard.

But, since both Legion and Azaia, and a few other people, all needed Lived-Line connections to the area, the trip actually turned into something of a Disk Caravan of people extending their Lived-Lines, trailing behind the unicorn-cycle while they worked on Infusing or Investing.

Azaia had been using Sleipner in this way during their downtime, riding him from India back towards Europe to link up with prior Lived-Lines for herself and those who wanted to extend their present or future Teleporting range, including our family.

This troop added several dozen others, including Shvaughn, Legion, The Mick, Amaretta, and myself. It was a fixed eight hours, and then conjoined Teleports synched to my own sent everyone back to their starting locations.

Along the way, everyone got into serious discussions about making Stuff, including The Old Steed. Given the sheer amount of ground I had to cover for the Nuke the Deeps Initiative, it was agreed that I should be riding Sleipner, and The Old Steed would be remanded for the use of Azaia.

Since that required recognition of status, it also meant I was going to have to do the Elemental Ceremonies for all of them... which only made everyone more enthusiastic. They only got more excited when The Mick thoughtfully asked if I’d gone down into the deeps under the Central Spire of Hyperborea and explored it for the god-bug’s loot, or if I’d truly and properly explored the catacombs and crypts of the place for, uh, intellectually stimulating merchandising opportunities.

Briggs’ and Sama’s dour moods almost popped, it was so tangible. “There’s a cave and dungeon system inside a mountain inhabited by a millennia-old magical culture and an Old God, and you didn’t explore it and loot it to the floor?” Briggs asked in disbelief, as quite suddenly all that old gamer programming took right on over.

I rolled my eyes at everyone. “Someone was working on saving the world and had to go kill millions of Cultivators! Someone who already had two Divine Weapons sitting around, and is mining the Hells out of Yellowstone!” And had looted the New York Fed, but nobody said anything about that.

“Tricks and traps!” Sama purred.

“Horrors lost to the ages!” Briggs added grimly.

“Centuries, nay, millennia of offerings to some dark things best encouraged to end their days,” The Mick joined in with spirit.

“A lot of experience fighting monstrous things, which we are going to need,” Amaretta pointed out dutifully.

“There are probably a whole lot of secondary Pact Grantors there who need to be put down. Why, there’s potential to springboard to other Old Things in the whole rest of the place,” Shvaughn noted pointedly.

“Exploring a whole new magical place! They have to have a Felldeep over there too, right?” Azaia spoke up, her golden eyes dancing.

“Can this be... broadcast?” Morningfire asked into the excitable atmosphere.

Everyone there looked back and forth at one another.

“Gotta get Helix in on this,” I said to nobody in particular, and everyone agreed. “Also, nobody goes unless they are Beyond Law and Chaos, and you’ve got the Sun Saves at +25 or better. You are going into some very, very high-Level territory, and I can’t take the time to have fun with you there. Dungeon delving is extreme crazy death-defying fun... which is also quite deadly.

“I totally agree you all need experience against more than undead and Cultivators, given what is coming. But that doesn’t mean these places are not dangerous... and they shouldn’t detract from what you’ve got to do before the Shroud comes down.” That had to be everyone’s priority.

“We’ll set up the parameters before we head down. We should focus on clearing out any offerings/treasures from the god-bug’s home and the catacombs, mapping and charting the whole place, and possibly securing it as a base of operations for future endeavors. No Felldeep and Old God raids until the Cultivators are dealt with, at least,” Sama declared in a voice that brooked no opposition.

“But... it’s good experience, and a way to blow off steam,” Briggs grunted. “Figure a once a week run or something, we can get together to explore the place.”

That got bandied about as a workable option, with Sir Pellier, Helix, and Father Bower out in the distance pleased to be included.

“Dark, question.” I looked over at Morningflame’s words. “The Mountains of Madness, with the shoggoth. Is it possible we could try to recruit more shoggoth there, like Mr. Burble, as The Mick did, while we are there?”

“Huh.” I glanced over at The Mick, who looked thoughtful. “Mr. Burble is doing what it’s doing of its own Free Will. The blood of the Irish just gives it an anchor to cling to, a foundation so that it can actually think on its own.

“Lord Mick, I want you to ask Mr. Burble about this, specifically about such things like territory and bloodlines and relationships between shoggoth. If it thinks this is viable and something that can be offered to all shoggoth successfully, and it might even have a way to improve the process, then by all means we should start mass recruitment of shoggoth to help the world out.

“I do NOT, however, want the shoggoth concentrated in the hands of a few. If the shoggoth want to be unique and stand on their own, they should be dispersed among and with the various peoples that are out there. Trying to corral them into a small set of hands is very dangerous, and Mr. Burble is aware of this, too.

“They should not ever fight our battles for us, and they should not ever be treated as something we can order around. That takes a very special mindset to accomplish and to pull off. Shoggoth who get into the hands of the power-hungry are going to end up treating humanity just like they did the Elder Races that spawned them.”

“Give them a foundation, then let them sit back an’ watch an’ observe, an’ make their own decision,” The Mick agreed. “Aye, that’s the right way of it. We’ll be needing blood, of course.”

“I’ll get the Allegiance started on that now.”

I was still feeling bad at killing so many of the things after finding out this weird method of liberating them from their own slavery and madness was viable. I didn’t know if the shoggoth who had been damned under the Mountains of Madness all these eons could be saved, but not trying was not something I could do easily now.

Who knew that Blood Magic would find itself so useful in this way?

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We didn’t reach the territory of the White Wolves on the first day, or even the second. If the roads had been in good shape, it might have been possible, but Sleipner was unable to Veilwalk on them, and so our maximum speed was reduced. Eight hours of travel was only a thousand miles or so over the rough terrain and mountains, although old roads not traveled by humans in some time did speed things up once we got to the plains and forests of southern Russia.

It was a nice break and way to get together and talk about things in person, as opposed to /tellepathy. We could still work and commiserate, while traveling and moving together, productive while effectively on vacation, showing how it was done.

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“I know you don’t want to go with her,” I told The Old Steed calmly. “But you know that she is going to make a great future Rider for you, and you know I will not allow you to come with me.

“Your place is here. You will be the eventual Firelord of Yellowstone, but you need a mortal anchor. She has the Phoenix Bloodline. She is literally perfect for you!”

The Old Steed huffed as he glanced at Morningfire. -She did not kill an Old God!- he /whuffed to me.

“And she is not Bound to the Shroud. A Phoenix flies free, and so should you.” I patted his horrid beak-fanged maw of a skeletal head fondly. “She’ll not be going as Deep as I, and if I can get you to Firelord, your power will not fall if you choose her as a Rider, but you will still be able to interact with the mortal world through her.

“More to the point, she needs someone like you. Someone faithful and strong, who she can trust unconditionally, without being slave or master,” I went on in a low voice. “She has been hurt very badly that way, you know.”

The Old Steed huffed, fully aware of what had been done to the Morningsun family. -She must get stronger!- he /stated firmly.

I nodded. “And she shall. She is not going as Deep as I am being forced to, so her power is rising much faster. By the time I leave, she should be able to sustain a link at Twenty-One with you with no problem whatsoever.”

My link with him was currently at Eighteen, restrained by Class Levels of Sorcerer, Binder, and Blighter. Were I maxed in Depth at Ten, that link would be at 22, and he could take over as the true Firelord of Yellowstone as a Legendary Eidolon.

All things in their time. I could only do what I could do.

Those coming behind me were catching up quick, simply because they didn’t have to go sideways like I was, and could snatch up the key and powerful things I had to teach them to speed them to power.

I had already informed Morningfire that I wanted her to take over as the Rider of The Old Steed, rather shocking my mother at the idea. After all, she was very into appearances, and The Old Steed looked like something out of a burning nightmare, not a lovely and dazzling firebird or something.

However, the fact that he was going to be THE most powerful Eidolon at the planet with a proper Fire-Templated Rider, and his appearance could be expanded and adjusted as he grew stronger, certainly got her thinking.

The thought of being the most powerful Fire Druidess on the planet certainly didn’t hurt, nor did the fact that despite not being beautiful, The Old Steed had been the mount of a true Divine entity, if an old one, and was extremely impressive and eye-catching.

Anyone who rode him would definitely be the same. The fact there were Binder spells that could radically change the appearance of an Eidolon for a short time also warmed her up to the idea, especially when she understood that part of his gothic horror appearance was because my Druid Levels were Blighted, and because both his old master and I were tied to the Shroud. An Eidolon bound to a Phoenix-blood would probably look VERY different...

Yeah, she was totally on-board after that, and started adding Binder Levels to her Leveling schema. The Class ran off Charisma anyway, and had the Greater Teleport, so everyone who could should pick it up anyway... and the extreme limitations on its Summoning power would all go away once the Shroud fell. What that might mean was a problem I was not going to be able to help much with...

I was telling him this because he was going to be working with the Morningsuns on expanding their Lived-Lines. When moving overland without Wardriding or Veilwalking, The Old Steed was as fast as Sleipner, but Sleipner was much faster over open ocean, or Veilwalking roads. The Old Steed promised that his next advance would be Veilwalking, just for that reason.

I had a lot of ocean to cover. Tripling my speed and more while covering it would be extremely beneficial to everyone and what we were planning to do.

And if I got to lean on my Warlock’s back and hug them for many hours, well, that was just an amazingly useful coincidence!

It turned out you could Waterjump from any of the Hollow World’s seas to basically anywhere on any of the oceans above, and vice versa. You just had to know where you were going.

Cue the woman who had to zip all over the oceans anyway. Naturally enough, you could also two-use this as a way to get anywhere on the oceans with two Jumps, one down and one up. You just had to know where you were going.

Trips to the Hollow World were in a lot of people’s futures now, just for that reason.

Thus, Legion joined me once they finished obliterating the drac-bloods who were ruling the Kingdom of Cold Blood, as well as dueling their erstwhile scaled brother and devouring him in the proper way of sending off a half-sibling among the Abyssal Maws. Their tail grew spikes, and their frill was more ornamental after that.

This fight had involved using their mutual Bloodline links to track down without fail thousands of drac-blooded lizard men with the Abyssal Maw Bloodline, butchering them, the fields of eggs hatching new members of the bloodline, the dinosaurs also being bred with the Bloodline, and feeding them all to the Land, which was very appreciative of them cleansing away this demonic Taint from itself, even sleeping as it was.

It also depopulated the Empire of Cold Blood of over ninety percent of its scalefolk, and a third of its dinosaur inhabitants. The slaughter was extremely thorough... I popped down via Waterjump and helped out with the last day of it, just to make sure none of them got away, and checked via Commune with Nature to make sure there wasn’t anything left of the Bloodline.

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“Tasty?” I asked, as Legion walked up, licking their lips.

“Oddly enough, yes,” they replied, swishing their newly spiked tail, and burping once. “You recognize this?” they asked me, a bit startled that I knew what it was.

“I was expecting it when I heard what the drac-King named his little fleabag domain.”

The Portal was massive, big enough to let the oldest of wyrms fit through without a problem. It was built of ancient basalt and carved with leering Rune-Glyphs in the draconic style. It pulsed with a LOT of power... power that was completely shut down and suppressed under the Shroud.

“Oh.” Legion was impressed. “You’ve heard of the true Empire of the Cold Blood?”

“This isn’t the first world they’ve infiltrated like this, although I’m sure you know that. They also took a stab at Terra-Luna.”