Unbound

The screams below were rising louder and louder below, Tempered lungs proving their worth as Inquisition cut a bloody swath through the horde. But the Revenants weren't holding back either; Teine watched in rapt fascination as the beasts rallied with all the fury of a hive protecting their queen.

Teine looked at the Broodmother, his Analyze enough to tell him its name and level, but it's Type was tantalizingly out of reach. Just as all the others. He had his suspicions, but until proven they were only guesses. The writhing abomination belched out another dozen eggs as he watched, it's immense form made up of curling tentacles, studded with fleshy nodules and glistening with ichor. It was simply...

"Beautiful," he murmured.

"Sir?"

Teine looked at his guard. The boy was wracked with terror, but still he stood fast. Mervin knew his place, and with the incentive of Essence Draughts he'd become far more enthusiastic toward their work. So what if those draughts were developed with Revenant parts? Even if the boy knew, he'd have jumped at the chance to advance. Everyone always did.

"Elder! The Inquisition is pressing forward!" LeQuin said, pointing below. "The Inquisitors have taken the field!"

Teine panned over the horde, toward the furious battle being waged along one side of the massive chamber. Even had the Eyrie still stood, the place could have held all of the Guilders within it and still have room for an opposing force. Teine gathered what he needed from a glance, his powerful Mind and Intelligence sorting and processing it all.

"Ten thousand Revenants, give or take a score, versus what seems to be two thousand redcloaks. Most of them Acolytes," Teine mused, more or less to himself. He spoke loud enough to be heard, though, as he was their leader. One must always demonstrate dominance on the battlefield, else your underlings will begin to get...ideas. "With the Inquisitors joining the fray, however, they'll likely penetrate the horde in short order. We cannot have that."

The Tin and Iron Ranks—those that survived—were still firing at the Fiend. Their pathetic Sparkbolts and Ice Arrows shot out with regular bursts, cutting through the crimson fog but unlikely to hit anything. The Fiend wouldn't be taken down by them, and Teine hadn't the energy to spare for the creature, not yet.

"Keep the Fiend occupied! Distracted, hm? Under no circumstances is he to engage the monsters!" Teine made eye contact with the fledgling mages, getting nods from every one of them. "The last thing we need is another win in the Revenant's column."

Teine regarded his "guard," though he had no need of their protection. The older one, Piotr was looking a touch peaky. He'd have to keep an eye on that one; he'd been the first to complete his Tempering with the Revenant draughts. Mervin, swiftly becoming his favorite, was watching the mage's Mana bolts sail into the sky. He seemed nervous. "Mervin, come here please."

As the nascent Apprentice Tier approached, Teine took a moment to take out his etheric device. The small, inscrutable box had been practically humming ever since they'd entered the Nymean ruin proper, and Teine's Manasight could pick out the red-yellow energy radiating from within. The crimson haze it released was indistinguishable from the fog around them, a fact that tugged at his scarred cheek.

"Something funny, sir?" Mervin asked. Teine looked up to see the young man step forward and rest his spear against the smooth tiles.

"Ah, no no," Teine waved a hand dismissively, but didn't miss how Mervin scratched at his forearms. Interesting. "Simply reflecting on the majesty of our surroundings.”

“They are...something, sir.”

“Indeed. In fact I think—“ Teine stopped suddenly, running his hands near the railing once again. Teine gasped. He laughed then coughed and clutched at his cane. "They're wrong..."

"What was that, sir?"

"The sigaldry led us here, but I thought it vanished the moment we came into contact with the true weight of this creature's aura," Teine gestured at the Broodmother. It squelched titanically, releasing more eggs. "They didn't vanish, however!" He ran his finger along a groove in the stonework, and his touch briefly ignited a rune that glowed a vicious yellow-red. It faded quickly. "They're hidden. Protected. Come!"

“Protected how?” Mervin asked, before belatedly offering, “Sir.”

Teine barely noticed. He was following the nigh invisible markings along the bannister. They swirled in complicated flourishes that made little sense to him, despite his time with the strange, alien language. "The array is inverted, pulling it its frequencies inward to hide them. But it's also...blind gods. That's it."

Sudden revelation hit him like a thunderbolt. The language itself was inverted! It was twisted against itself! That was why it contained so many inconsistencies, so many incomprehensible gaps.

Teine snapped his fingers, and while his Body wasn't the most powerful, the sound made the Tin Ranks flinch.

"Bronze Ranks, follow me. We're to find the source. We do that, and we find the true Nest."

Onward, he smiled through his scar. To destiny.

"WATCH OUT!"

Evie held on tight as the team of avum charged through the battlefield. The wagon jostled behind her, kicking up over each corpse she trampled but not slowing a bit. That was partly due to the redcloaks that chased them, hurling bolts of light all the while. The already terrified birds were mad with fear, nothing could stop their frenzied charge.

Except maybe a wall of Acolytes and Revenants.

"Supplies! Coming through! Make a hole!" Evie screamed, her Apprentice Tier body forcing the air from her lungs in a booming voice. It barely rose above the chaos of the battlefield, however.

"AHH!" Evie slapped her hands to the bench below her and willed all the mass she could shift into the wagon. It wasn't much, but she didn't have time or the ability to reach the ground. She hit the redcloaks hard only moments later, and for a desperate instant Evie feared she wouldn't make it. Then the sheer weight of the supply wagon hurled the lot of them forward, white-armored warriors thrown forward into the thrashing claws of the Revenants, and she was through.

"NOCTIS WEPT!" Evie shouted, half elated, half terrified, as the wagon's inertia could not be stopped. They plowed through rank after rank of Revenants, grinding everything below the massive wheels of the supply wagon. Kill notifications streamed across her vision, redcloak and Revenant alike.

Behind her, the battle line fell into disarray as the section around Evie's entry collapsed. Revenants streamed into the breach, and the Inquisition's unrelenting advance buckled. Shouted orders resounded, and the bolts of light Mana only increased. Several even came close enough to glance off her leather armor.

Just gotta get close enough to the other supply wagon, blow this up, and then vanish into the crowd. Evie panted and felt sweat pour down her forehead. Easy as breathin'. Evie slapped her own face, letting the pain center her. Okay! Time to cause some real havoc!

Scorpion's Tail!

Dervish!

With her left hand, Evie unspooled her chain and whipped it outward, describing a lightning fast arc of bladed fury. Revenants were shredded and knocked back by the ridiculous length of chain, enough that the avum could force their way ahead. With her other hand, she fished out the few remaining potions she'd stolen and hurled them ahead of her. Explosions bigger than her wagon bloomed where the incendiary potions fell, each one setting alight four or five Revenants and utterly wrecking their charge.

It was chaos.

Behind her, the light bolts began to fade as the howls of enraged Revenants grew stronger. They had bigger worries than her. Ahead, she could make out the second group of Inquisitors that emerged from a sideways tunnel. They were advancing through the horde as well, but were ignoring anything but the enemy, not even bothering to assist the floundering team she'd left behind.

Callous zealots, Evie cursed, ignoring the fact that she was the reason they were being suddenly overwhelmed. She snapped the reins with her free hand, never stopping her deadly weave of bladed chain.

The terrain quickly grew inexplicably uneven, and in a few places, Evie spotted greenery and vines growing along the tiled floor. The wagon rocked hard as it crested each corpse and protuberance in their way, but the sheer terror in the avum and momentum of the payload meant they kept racing ahead. But the constant crashing from behind her meant more than a few crates overturned. An herbal tang competed with the scent of blood and that musky, fetid heat.

Not much time, she thought, bashing her way clear of the horde. She'd only gotten so far by dint of her heavy wagon and the fact that none of the many Ghouls was near her. Not gonna fight one of those again, not anytime soon. She could see the other supply train now, sitting in the rear of the advancing group of redcloaks. She was close. Evie snapped the reins again and shouted at the birds. "Just a little further, friends!"

"Diurnal Sunder!"

Evie's world turned white and her ears were filled with a roar far louder than the Revenants. She couldn't see anything, but everything tipped. She kicked off the seat, flaring her Agility and Dexterity as the wagon rolled beneath her. She spun, arcing her back as she rotating her feet back underneath her and, once she'd flipped, pulled all the weight from her chain back into her Body.

She dropped from the air, landing in a crouch atop the wagon as it skidded to a stop. It had careened through the monsters around her, sending more Contribution and XP her way as they were ground to pungent paste. The area behind her, however, was emptying rapidly of Revenants; they had turned and begun running in the same direction Evie had been heading. Her eyes widened.

A tiny army had followed her. Led by that Harnsworth guy. His armor was untouched by the blood and burns that adorned all the rest. He looked right at her.

"You're no Acolyte," he murmured, not so munch angry as disappointed. As if she were a child stealing sweets. "But even heathens know that stealing is a sin."

"So's bein' a old rat bastard, but I'm not slingin' names am I?" Evie shot back. She adjusted her grip on her chain and let her hands move ever so slightly.

The old man tutted, his beard quivering. "You're not one of mine, but I'll teach you this lesson regardless." He unsheathed his sword, which ignited with a burst of orange fire Mana.

"Bring it on, graybeard," Evie grinned.

"Follow the explosions!" Cal shouted. Their team cut through the Revenants with a single minded purpose, rejecting widespread slaughter in favor of surgical precision. Revenants and even the odd Ghoul stood no chance, but they all kept their Stamina and Mana expenditure as low as they could. If either fell, it wouldn't matter how much Health they had left, they'd be dead.

Another explosion of fire ahead, and Cal adjusted her heading. The terrain was strange, slowly overgrown with vines and roots the further they travelled into the enormous chamber, but it was of little concern to Cal. Slipping between Revenants like the wind, the malformed creatures stumbled over the exposed vegetation as if offering themselves up on a platter. Her daggers licked outward, each as long as her forearm and taking arms, legs, even heads. Whatever presented itself along her path.

The horde was thinning, at least around them. Her team had torn through the edges of the battle before plunging in, but each of them was a powerhouse compared to the average Revenant. Even Atar and the Dayne girl held their own. The creatures seemed to be fleeing from them, or perhaps shifting closer toward the Broodmother in some sort of protective formation. All it meant to Cal was that it made her task that much easier.

Ahead something impacted the ground and the Revenants about sixty strides ahead tumbled into the air, thrown by some large object. Cal looked up, pushing her Perception, but Felix hadn't dropped that giant crystal. What was—?

Fatal Flurry!

The last of the Revenants blocking her view fell, their spines and throats severed instantly. Cal flowed into the gap they left, Vess, Atar, and the Hand close behind.

"Is that—is that a wagon?" Atar panted. The Crown atop his head flickered and faded, and Cal noted his eyes shimmered bright crimson for a moment before returning to their natural hue.

"Supplies," Cal said, nodding at the characters along the side. Redcloaks were good at being orderly, at least. "But why is it here? The redcloak line is further up."

A slight figure landed atop the wagon, trailing a bladed chain that almost floated in the air. Cal felt her chest clench and release at the sight, only to have her senses blaze warning when a man in white armor led a battalion of Inquisition closer and shouted at Evie. Beside her, Vess sucked in a breath.

"Him," she pointed at the older Initiate. "The one in the lead. He fought Felix to a standstill."

"Oh really?" the Hand said, eagerness in his voice. "And only Journeyman? How fascinating."

"Good, then you can take him out, Reed," Cal barked. "The rest, we need a distraction."

"I...have an idea," Atar said.

"My Lady! We've spotted another force form the upper levels!"

"Report, Klark," DuFont demanded. She shoved a hand forward and let loose a torrent of heat Mana, burning through the Revenants before her. They died before they could even scream. "How many?"

"Only eight, but they recognize the Guilder known as Onslaught among them," the boy said breathlessly. His own sword was out, burning with the Order's flame and cutting into the horde that never stopped coming. "They're cutting a path to our rear guard, as if they're trying to flank us."

"Harn Kastos and Calesca Boscal," DuFont scoffed. "They finally arrived. But only eight? Was one of them a young man with blue eyes?"

"No ma'am, the only younger male was blonde. A fire mage."

"Damn." Eliza dragged her other hand through the air and let her own brand of flame pour out of her gauntlets. It baked the root-covered tiles before her, igniting many of the Revenants pressuring her men. "Then where is that bastard? Pass the word. We're too close to the Broodmother now. We'll not be taken off course by the Fiend's entourage!"

"What of the rear guard?" Klark asked.

"They stand at least three hundred strong," DuFont snapped. "Do you think they'll fall to eight fighters?"

"No, ma'am."

DuFont and the two other Inquisitors had pushed their troops forward as quickly as possible, forming a path lined with their shields and bodies. Acolytes were falling by the dozen, but there were plenty to spare. The Initiates more than made up for the loss of meat shields, taking up the fight against the Revenants and Ghouls. DuFont had spared some of her precious Mana to push back the horde, but it was an impossible task. She had to take the Nest first—she hadto; before that need, all else was meaningless.

Then they were there. The base of the Broodmother and its field of noxious eggs.

Eliza paced ahead, joining Inqusitors Daur and Rutger at the head of the procession. She took the lead, eyeing the both of them, almost hoping they would try and challenge her right to be there. They simply looked away, though Rutger looked quite bitter. DuFont let a smile slip across her face.

"Come, men. Time to take the Authority we deserve."

That I deserve, she amended.

Without warning, a strange hornblast cut through the air, and only steps ahead an aquamarine wall of light rose up over the eggs and Broodmother. It shimmered in the crimson light, almost painful in contrast.

"No!" DuFont screamed. She unsheathed the hooked blade at her side, the one she'd claimed from the Foglands expedition. She struck at the shield rapidly, but the enchantment on the blade did nothing to the shield.

"That is a Master Tier shield," Daur gaped.

"The Sorceress is here!" Rutger hissed.

"Indeed she is," a voice said.

DuFont spun toward the sound, sword and gauntlets up and ready. A woman with pale blond hair and a crooked iron rod leaned casually against one of the man-sized eggs.

"Nice to meet you at last, Eliza," the woman said and aquamarine light rippled down her arms. "I've been meaning to have a chat with you."

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