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Touch Of Fate 259 A Whole 'Nother Tier

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Brenden stumbled again, his legs numb from fatigue. It was frustrating, but the zombies were proving to be just as much of an obstacle now as when they were moving. He was still heading towards the area where the dark cloud had been. Judging from the occasional explosions which erupted in that vicinity, he could surmise that the fight was still going on.

Every now and then he caught sight of Red circling high overhead, evidently waiting for something. Brenden tried signalling him, but to no avail. Unfortunately, the dragon's attention seemed to be focused elsewhere, and he gave no indication of noticing the beastman, regardless of how loudly he yelled.

[Seriously? What good is a overgrown aerial predator if he can't spot something my size on the ground?] He complained in his mind while scrabbling over another particularly tall pile of corpses.

Little did Brenden realize that he was just one of thousands of tiny humanoid figures scrabbling around the battlefield. For a dragon of Red's extreme youth and inexperience, it would actually be more surprising if he did pay attention to these insect-like creatures while his summoner was in the midst of a life and death battle.

"Alright, just another few hundred meters..." The beastman mumbled to himself after cresting the most recent mound of bodies. The omnipresent stench, already fairly unpleasant, was beginning to get worse. It was almost as the animating force that had brought them back from the dead had also prevented them from rotting. Now that it was removed, the corpses were making up for lost time.

[Zombies are truly inconvenient in a number of ways.]

A part of Brenden marveled at his own state of mind. Not too long ago, this kind of experience would have seemed like something out of his worst nightmares. Now, it really just felt irritating.

He could still intellectually understand the horror of clambering over the pale and rotting corpses of ma.s.sacred civilians, with a disproportionate number of women and children among them, but for some reason that fact didn't do much more than make him angry at the people responsible.

As he pondered that, he recalled a tidbit of information his master had let slip while he was learning methods for improving secondary attributes. Something along the lines of "Skills and t.i.tles that grant an increase to Willpower are rare, and have an unusual effect on a person's mind. While they won't dramatically change an individual's personality, they do have tendency to realign their worldview, thus making it more difficult for things to shake them on an emotional level."

[I suppose that fits. Even with all my desperation to help Sera, I'm still capable of thinking fairly rationally.]

Any further introspection was interrupted when he noticed a group of hors.e.m.e.n cutting across the field to his left. They were moving somewhat slowly, thanks to the unusual terrain, but it was clear that their destination was the same as his. Seeing as they were alive, and figuring that they were probably on his side because of it, he decided to angle his way towards them and see if they could give him a ride.


Worst case scenario, he could always resort to violence.

When he was fairly close and about to call out to them, a brilliant burst of golden light exploded to the west. It captured his attention for a few moments, as he tried to guess what its origin might be.

[Its not quite what I would expect from Mike, but doesn't seem like something from the undead either. Someone from the strike force maybe?]

Figuring that he would need to see for himself, Brenden called out to the equally distracted hors.e.m.e.n, "h.e.l.lo, there! What unit are you from?"

He'd hoped for a simple response. Something along the lines of 'we're part of such and such division on a scouting mission.' However, he'd clearly misread the situation.

The majority of the hors.e.m.e.n, which he could now tell were knights of some sort, immediately sprung into action, spurring their mounts to quickly surround Brenden.

An older man, wearing an insignia of a s.h.i.+eld, drew his sword and demanded, "Identify yourself!"

"Hold on, now! I'm not an enemy." He replied, a little annoyed by the hostile welcome. Couldn't they see that he wasn't undead?

"The prove it by stating your rank and affiliation." Came the cold reply.

"I'm..." Then he hesitated. Brenden couldn't exactly say that he was the ruler of the Almirn's criminal underworld. Not if he wanted to avoid some very awkward questions.

"You're what?" The knight demanded, voice harsh with suspicion.

[Guess I'll have to swallow my pride here, and hope for the best.]

"I'm a follower of the Dragonknight Erasmus, bearing an important message for him." He stated with as much confidence as he could muster.

Unsurprisingly, the knight was not impressed. "You expect me to believe that?"

"Hold." One of the other hors.e.m.e.n broke in, this one significantly younger. "I recall that, before revealing himself, the Dragonknight was said to have three companions, a beastman warrior was supposedly one of them. Are you claiming that you are him?"

The speaker was a young man, no older than twenty, who held himself with the regal bearing of a n.o.ble. However, his battered armor and constantly roving gaze showed that he was also a veteran fighter. Although most of his features were obscured underneath his helmet, his masculine jaw, peppered with a few days worth of stubble, remained visible.

Brenden immediately noted the deference the remaining knights paid this young man, which gave some indication of his ident.i.ty. Despite the obvious age difference, he was clearly the one in charge, and therefore the one he'd have to convince.

"I am." He answered, meeting the man's gaze and holding it.

He stared at Brenden for a few moments, as if weighing the whole thing in his mind, before finally nodding. "I believe you."

"Your Highness!" The older knight protested.

"Had he intended to do us harm, he would not have called out to us in the first place, but that is inconsequential at the moment. We do not have the luxury of conducting a full trial of his ident.i.ty, so I would rather trust that this capable warrior would not attempt to deceive us."

The prince, whose own ident.i.ty was now evident, turned back to Brenden. "I apologize for your treatment by my followers, but they were only acting with my safety in mind. Evidence suggests that there are a few traitors amongst the coalition forces, and we were specifically warned about individuals operating independently or in small groups. In any event, I a.s.sume you are heading towards the confrontation between your master and the abominable lich who threatens our lands."

"Yes, actually. I was hoping you might be able to give me a lift."

The prince chuckled at that. "Then it seems we share a destination, for I have business there as well. Come, let us-"

His words were cut off as the world shook. There was simply no other way to describe it.

The ground, air, and even their bodies shuddered as a wave of unimaginable power swept over the battlefield. For a moment, the planet itself seemed to sing, a humming voice of exultation that filled those who listened to it with awe. Brenden felt compressed, as if the atmosphere itself was trying to crush him, and he would have collapsed onto the ground if he'd been able to.

As suddenly as they appeared, the vibrations ceased, leaving him and the others gasping for breath.

"What in the h.e.l.ls..." He heard one of the knights mutter, shortly before his horse collapsed underneath him, along with all the others. Thankfully, the riders were all fairly tough, so there were no apparent injuries.

The horses were clearly still alive, judging from the way their chests still rose and fell, but the phenomenon had evidently knocked them all unconscious.

"Looks like we're going on foot." The prince muttered apologetically.

Brenden sighed mentally. He didn't know for sure, but he had a sneaking suspicion that Mike was to blame for this too.

------------------------------------------------

The barrier shattered under his hand, and he fell forward into a sudden wash of light and heat. Warmth seeped into his very essence and seemed to permeate his being. Many things which had confounded him up to this point began to make sense. He could practically feel his understanding of the world expanding.

Suddenly, he was floating in a white void that stretched as far as his eyes could see. Although it was to know for sure, he got the distinct impression that he was alone.

After trying to crane his neck to look around, he realized that couldn't move, which should have been concerning. For some reason though, it didn't really bother him.

[This old trick again. I have to admit, I'm a little disappointed. Hopefully, they won't make me wait as long as they did when I was reincarnating.]

The thought of spending any amount of time immobilized in this eerie zone should have been deeply disturbing, but he just couldn't muster up the emotion to care. It was almost as if his emotions had been largely cut off.

Silence reigned in the void, and he couldn't even detect the sound of his own heartbeat. For an indeterminable length of time he simply floated, waiting for something to happen. As he did so, he realized he was starting to detect a faint noise. At first he thought it must have been his imagination, but it slowly grew louder.

It was a scratching noise, a bit like the sound made by someone writing with a particularly sharp pen. Mike focused on it, trying to determine where it was coming from, but it appeared to be rising from the void itself.

All of a sudden the noise stopped, and he instantly felt the weight of a powerful being's attention. It was suffocating, and it made him feel like he was going to shrivel and disappear. Thankfully, it didn't last long.

The void quaked under the strain of a voice not meant for mortal ears, the force of which sent Mike hurtling back from whence he came. As his consciousness began to fade, his Communication Magic, working on overdrive, filtered the meaning of the being's utterance.

"Return. It is not yet time."

---------------

[Well...that's disconcerting.]

Mike opened his eyes and found himself staring at a smoke filled sky. Sitting up, he looked around and immediately raised a hand to block.

The skeletal fist, clad in grey energy, slammed against his palm, causing it to sting a little, but nothing else. Even the necromantic energy failed to harm him, as it seemed to stop just short of his skin.

"How are you still alive?!" The emotionally unhinged lich roared after his strike was blocked. "What did you do?!"

Rather than responding, Mike studied his own hand, noting that he could sense a sort of barrier lying on top of it. One that seemed stretch across his entire body. It was reminiscent of the s.h.i.+eld that Kultanis had gained following his acension.

[Is this just a normal part of being Tier 4?] Mike considered while idly blocking another of the Skull Lord's blows with his other hand. [Seems kind of unfair.]

Kultanis jumped back a few meters before taking to the skies once more. He began to chant, his raspy voice forming dark syllables laden with power. Judging from the flow of mana, whatever the lich was planning would be of catastrophic proportions.

So, Mike took the most reasonable course of action, and launched himself after the undead. During the split second it took to catch up, he mimicked the Skull Lord's favorite method of attack, focusing his mana into his right fist. It began to glow with a soft, white light.

Before Kultanis could finish his chant, Mike's punch smashed into his jaw. Broken teeth and shattered bone fragments flew through the air as a portion of the lich's skull simply disintegrated under the force of the blow. Not letting his enemy recover, Mike clasped his hands together, and brought them down on the undead's skull in an overhead swing.

Unable to block, he Skull Lord was sent careening downwards and slammed into the ground, which cratered under the force of the impact. The several meter depression was further expanded as Mike deliver his follow up blow, a mana infused stomp which actually shattered the earth and caused a rain of debris for dozens of meters in every direction.

Landing on the lip of the newly formed crater, Mike surveyed his handiwork.

[It feels like my mana control has improved dramatically. My attributes have been obviously enhanced, so I wonder if this might be the effect of one of the hidden ones I've yet to unlock.]

He glanced down at the rest of his body, marveling at the sheer power that seemed to be coursing through him. Nothing looked any different, but he could tell that he'd changed on some fundamental level.

"That was awesome!" Cariel's voice interrupted his thoughts. The paladin had evidently recovered to the point that she could bounce excitedly. "I wonder if I can do something like that."

She promptly began to stare at her fist, a look of extreme concentration and strain on her face. A few moments rolled by as the blood started travelling to her head, leaving her beet red.

[If she keeps this up, she's going to pa.s.s out.] He thought absently before turning back to the crater. For some reason he could tell that Kultanis had begun to stir once more. As such, he wasn't surprised when the skeletal figure exploded out of the earth, wisps of the tattered black robe still clinging to him.

With a roar, the Skull Lord surrounded himself with a cyclone of necromantic energy, the ghostly orbs of light that served as his eyes narrowing in rage.

Mike calmly watched all this while preparing his response, only to be interrupted by an exclamation from Cariel.

"I did it!" The paladin yelled excitedly, fist coated in a wash of golden light. She looked at it proudly for a few seconds before launching herself at the lich saying. "Now I gotta try it."

Sighing, Mike followed after.

-----------------------------

Biographies part 3.

---------

Lysande

---------

Also known as the G.o.d of the Stars, Lord of Magic, Master of the Unseen Library, Ruler of the Five Winds and a host of regional names and t.i.tles, Lysande is one of the Five Creator G.o.ds of Ea.

Like all of the greater G.o.ds, he has no definite form, but usually appears as a grey haired, scholarly man in the prime of his life. He is known to carry a book with him wherever he travels.

While typically a.s.sociated with insects of all types, he is not known to have a sacred animal. Instead, his sacred texts tend to elevate spirits and other energy based lifeforms.

Personality:

------------

Of all of the Creator G.o.ds, Lysande is credited with being the most rational and contemplative. Detractors might call him dry or unfeeling, but he is simply unconcerned with the mundane. While usually calm, in the presence of the new and unknown he becomes a pa.s.sionate researcher, and will often go to extremes to track down the information he wants. He does not often speak in the presence of others, but when he does, his words carry great weight.

With the exception of Yilon, Lysande is the Creator G.o.d who is least involved in mortal affairs. He rarely answers prayers, and his clergy cannot expect much of anything from him. This has given him the reputation of being an absent and uncaring deity. As a result, he is rather unpopular with the common people.

This is not to say that he's completely unconcerned with the people of Ea. On the contrary, he often intercedes in a minor capacity to give subtle inspiration to deep thinkers like philosophers, inventors, and scientists. Many magical and technological discoveries have come about due to his subtle influence.

His clergy and temples are almost universal concentrated in areas of learning and knowledge, with scholars and mages being his most ardent followers. He holds a special place in the hearts of those who work with books and there are few authors or researchers who don't offer him a prayer before starting a new task.

Among the other G.o.ds, he is largely a recluse, rarely leaving his home realm. The Ascended tend to see him as being aloof and unapproachable, but those who manage to encounter him while he's in a rare talkative mood will be regaled with rare tidbits of knowledge. Whether or not such information is useful is typically inconsequential to Lysande.

Contrary to what might be expected, he actually has a fairly strong following among the Ascended, albeit a fractious and disunited one. His laissez-faire att.i.tude to most things outside of his interests makes him quite popular for members of the Ascended who chafe under rules and restrictions. He also tends to get along with those G.o.ds outside of the major factions. As a result, he can be surprisingly influential under the right circ.u.mstances.

When interacting with his fellow Creator G.o.ds, Lysande prefers to maintain a professional cordiality, with one notable exception. He has a very unstable romantic relations.h.i.+p with Teun. They seem to go through cycles of pa.s.sionate love affairs, domestic bliss, arguments, break-ups and eventually reconciliations.

Spheres of Influence

----------------------

Lysande governs the Aspects of the Stars, Magic, Knowledge, Wind, Invention, and to a lesser extent Civilization and Cities. As he is essentially the G.o.d of Technology, he carries a fair amount of influence with nearly every facet of life for humanoid beings.

In some regions of the world, he's also a.s.sociated with the, as of yet, unclaimed Aspect of Death. While he officially denies any involvement, it often falls to him to maintain this portion of Ea's Destiny since his sense of responsibility will not let such a vital part of the fabric of reality go unmanaged. Until a reliable G.o.d of Death appears amongst the Ascended, he will likely continue this thankless duty.

Much like the Twins, his following in primarily urban, but even more restricted. His temples are rarely found outside of places of learning or inventions, and are virtually unheard of in most rural communities. Of all regions, he is perhaps most heavily wors.h.i.+ped in Cadun, The City of Spells, where the Mage's Guild is based.

That said, it is not uncommon to encounter a traveling priest of Lysande in the midst of conducting field research. All members of his clergy are required to acquire and catalogue knowledge as part of their advancement in the church, and first-hand experience is viewed as being the most valuable. As such, there are a number of small and isolated societies whose only experience with organized religion might be a travel-worn priest of the G.o.d of Knowledge barging into their lives with a battery of seemingly nonsensical questions.

Lysande is the patron G.o.d of the Star Elves, and one of the Triune of Mirithia. Most Star Elf communities are little more than isolated and self-contained monasteries where the mysteries of the universe are explored, thanks in large part to the race's talent for nearly all forms of magic. He is also rather influential among Moon Elves due to his role as the G.o.d of Magic, which remains a point of contention between him and the Twins.

Dwarves and beastmen rarely wors.h.i.+p the G.o.d, with only a small segment of their race's intellectual elite paying him homage. He is often a.s.sociated with elves and humans far more than other races, something that makes him a little unpalatable to those outside of those particular groups. That said, it is not unheard of for dwarven craftsmen to offer up a prayer to the Lord of Invention when experimenting with new techniques.

Outside of major humanoid communities, Lysande has little following. Only rarely do sentient monsters even know of his existence. The noted exception being the sphinxes of the s.h.i.+mmering Desert, who are best known for their penchant for intellectual puzzles and riddles.


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