5.7 Deja glue

Difference: Minimal
AN: Sorry about the delays. End of semester hitting me like a truck. Good chance I will be a day or two late next week as well, given how much work I already know I have to do over the weekend. Already can't wait for the holidays for a chance to breathe and sleep more than 16 hours total mo-thu.

The first thing they did was obviously report what Irwyn was smelling, or rather, that he was detecting something on the stronger side. Their words were honestly taken much more seriously than Irwyn’s pessimism would have expected. By the time they were down from the hill, Alice noted another group teleporting behind them, and at least three more squads of inquisitors would supposedly follow in the next ten minutes.

Moreover, the person in charge of the entire garrison was notified. The journey to the fortress took them barely a minute, floating just above ground - a compromise between speed and not looking like an aerial threat. By then, they were already awaited, the gate already cleared of whatever personnel there might have been. The instant they stepped through, a single man appeared, causing a wave of potent magic to erupt in all directions. 

There was an apparent weight to him that Irwyn recognized. Bursting from beneath his skin, undeniable, no matter how hard he might have been trying to conceal it. Like the world around the man would reject anyone and anything else on just a whim. An attempt to usurp the very actions that others imprinted upon reality. Refute their very existence if need be. Perhaps REJECTION or DENIAL? Domain either way, of that Irwyn was certain.

“So, you are my newest problem,” the man inclined his head as they arrived, inspecting their group with rapidly moving eyes. “And Lady Elizabeth no less. There have been many of our relatives asking around. Looking high and low where you might have vanished off to, cousin.”

“I seem to have left a stronger impression than you on me, Lord…?” Elizabeth inclined her head.

“Alazat, secondborn of your late uncle, though I suppose that hardly narrows it down, does it?” the man smiled ruefully. There was slight hostility in that tone, but more akin to mere dislike than what would make Irwyn actually wary. “Fascinating to see you with the inquisition of all things. No wonder all the summons were refused without cause - that pesky wartime immunity.”

“Speaking of, there seems to be something brewing beneath the fortress,” Irwyn interjected.

“Yes,” the man glanced over, and a flash of genuine anger seemed to flash over his face over the interruption. He stared Irwyn down for a few seconds, but when there was no flinch, he continued. “Or so you say. If that was you with the first report as it sounds like. Your superiors seem convinced, I suppose, and I have no right to refuse. My best mages will be notified and battle ready, though I expect you will be leaving empty-handed.”

Then the man turned and twisted the world around himself. As far as Irwyn could guess, Azalat denied standing by the gate as well as rejected being in all the other nearby places where he didn’t want to exist. To make use of that, the Magelord had left only a single place excluded out of that grouping, further inside the fort and shaped like him. That forced the world to adjust in a way that would result in him standing in that selected place. The magical feedback of that kind of teleportation was so strong though that Irwyn could feel the destination quite distinctly, though that may be only because he had been paying attention and standing so close.

A moment later there was no sign of the Lord either way… but not an imperceptible moment later. Irwyn knew he would have been able to react in that time. Cast several spells, even. What once seemed insurmountable, Domains, was definitely no longer quite so. Even if he didn’t actually hatch the egg around his Soul to properly tap into his hidden own, he was confident in not dying instantly.

“Definitely combat focused,” Elizabeth mused. “He will likely have command of detection specialists at the peak of Conception to compensate for that flaw, but those can be overcome with enough investment.”

“Should we be worried about him?” Desir asked. “If he is remotely in the same generation as you - as has been implied - a Domain at anywhere near that age is still very impressive.”

“He may well be older than my father. Age gets impossible to tell with rejuvenation available,” Elizabeth simply shrugged. “If he was particularly prodigious or important, I would have at least heard the name. He was probably once some reasonable talent that claimed a Domain through decent strife accompanied by his family’s wealth, and then removed himself from City Black in shame when it became undeniable that a second would never come. There is a decent quantity of such people across nobility everywhere. Talented enough to make that last leap with their House’s resource but not able to take even a single step further.”

“Even a single domain is plenty for anyone with mortal aspirations,” Desir mused. “Enough to legally found a noble house, if I recall. But I can see what you are getting at. Complacent yet arrogant. Unsurmountable by the norms of a common mage, yet not quite enough to make the true cut as far as House Blackburg is concerned for the inheritors of Wrath’s bloodline.”

“Yes. If he knew I had more than one or two Concepts at my age, I wonder what face he would make,” Elizabeth smiled. That much would certainly be hidden with the items Calm had provided. Possibly only the High Inquisitors could have peered past them with a Truth out of everyone they had met recently.

“Still, rather hostile. Should we be worried?” Irwyn asked.

“Nothing overt will happen. The repercussions would be too great for him,” she shook her head. “I will notify Calm about him just in case, but it was basically inevitable that someone would notice me eventually. I might not be the most famous, but a Domain is not required to recognize me for a courtier connected to the old families interested in my ‘sudden’ leap to Conception.”

“Do you have anything closer yet?” Desir tried to return to their original goal, turning towards Irwyn.

“Just a vague rotten smell with no indication where from,” Irwyn shook his head. “It has only gotten stronger if anything, though.”

“Much like in Abonisle where it wasn’t immediately obvious,” Elizabeth smiled. “Put that together with the lack of prior detection, and there is a good chance we have a loose Ravener.”

“You shouldn’t be saying that with a grin,” Desir pointed out.

“Why? It is quite the catch. Domain mages are at a point where they can individually have an impact on the war. Instead of loosing ours whenever the trap is sprung, we shall take the rot’s instead.”

“Or die trying,” Alice added.

“Unlikely. And why point out what is always an option?” Elizabeth shrugged. “There is no such thing as a hidden offensive Domain spell. If we force something to use that, the prepared Lord will already be fighting the Ravener in the next split second. We can handle a single attack and nothing at the level of Conception is a threat.”

“Let’s not get too careless,” Irwyn pointed out. “We cannot know how long it will take the undead to figure out they have been noticed, but things will probably deteriorate fast once they get desperate.”

“Don’t forget that you are not supposed to actually show strength above one or two Concepts,” Desir reminded. “Especially poignant now, since the Lord mage seemed like the type to share the news.”

“You are right,” that brought a frown to her face. “Perhaps we should tread with some care.”

“We should try higher and lower elevation,” Irwyn suggested. “I cannot tell when the smell is coming from, but it seems to strengthen and weaken.”

Which is what they did. Though with some trouble, given the fortress was a bit labyrinthine. Besides the great ramparts that were enchanted to a ridiculous degree, the inside of the structure was split into open courtyards and tall buildings, with stone bridges and platforms connecting them at points. Nothing was made of natural stone though, their composition instead much grayer. Reinforced concrete, according to Elizabeth, though Irwyn had limited insight into the material. Anyway, the walkways themselves were also enchanted, drawing magic from many sources that Irwyn felt within tightly guarded buildings. Batteries or generators, he couldn’t tell from distance. They also had a different job to do than ponder.

It was still taboo to fly or dig outside an emergency, so they had to use stairs to reach any towers or cellars. But no guide had been assigned to them, which might have actually been an intentional slight in hindsight. On the other hand, it was not in their interest to advertise that a group like theirs under the purview of the inquisition was present, so asking for directions was not convenient - without a proof of identity the soldiers basically refused to talk to them, hurrying along and minding only their own business, even when someone clearly called out to them.

But while it took them some effort, Irwyn did eventually manage to roughly triangulate the height of the source - assuming it was actually the source and not just a decoy, anyway. Using one spot where there was an accessible cellar beneath a small tower - which they both had to sneak into to perform the measurement without identification - Irwyn was confident that the rot was not significantly moving and was roughly at the second height level.

Then they had to make way around the entire complex to try and pinpoint the actual area where the epicenter might be. That was a task of a good few hours, part of which was finding a map so that Irwyn could orient himself and communicate his findings better. He also discovered an inconvenient truth: That obstacles such as buildings clearly affected the smell. As in, corralled its spread, making it extra hard to actually estimate where the undead were hiding.

“So, anywhere interesting around these parts?” Irwyn asked when he finally found the rough area and was able to point to it on a map of the layout.

“The vault is there,” Waylan surprisingly spoke.

“The vault?” Irwyn frowned, having no idea what that was about.

“This is Morrensot?” Elizabeth seemed surprised for a completely different reason.

“A what?” Irwyn asked.

“Name of the fortress, just South of Drathsol - if that even tells you anything and if I am right about Waylan is trying to say,” she chuckled. “More importantly, it is where our favourite criminal had been arrested for theft.”

Theft of an artifact. From a vault. Which the sneak had then eaten, and thus convinced his pursuers that there must have been other accomplices when it couldn’t be recovered.  

“Aye,” the sneak confirmed, still hidden. “Won’t be showing my mug around. One of the cunts could find it familiar.”

“You were officially pardoned,” Irwyn pointed out.

“It is wise to avoid needless conflict, or just the risk of it,” Desir interjected. “You mentioned that story before, but I don’t know how you had actually gotten inside.”

“Real simple, let me show you,” there was amusement in that voice.

“Maybe the demonstration should wait after we deal with the undead,” Elizabeth interrupted. “We should notify our handler. Get forces to converge with us rather than go in alone.”

“I was just about to suggest as much,” Desir nodded.

“Five minutes for everyone to get into position. We also need to find a door to go through.”

That left them walking across the chaotic structure again. Thankfully, Waylan did know his way around quite well, as he had extensively scouted all areas around his mark. Therefore, they arrived early enough for some chatter.

“I have been thinking,” Irwyn said to fill the silence. “Magelord is a title for anyone with a Domain, right?”

“Mostly,” Elizabeth nodded. “There are exceptions. Like the Shades of House Blackburg, or some other similar orders in other Duchies that are prevented from bearing nobility. You also require official recognition to claim the title. Which is almost never an issue, since the title is traditional across the entire Federation. If one house were to refuse an aspirant, they could just leave and get titled elsewhere, thus losing their birth Duchy a Domain mage.

“Just realized I am technically now nobility. Or could become at almost a whim, rather.”

“As if you ever cared about titles,” she scoffed lightly.

“Well, no, but I could definitely rub it in Waylan’s face,” Irwyn mused. “I am sure I would have every right to demand I be referred to by my rightful title.”

“Careful, or I ask the princess to mock you the same way, then reject the ask you made for confirmin’,” Waylan added his own commentary.

“Hush, no one calls me that,” Elizabeth said. “Technially, my only official title is ‘Heiress’, which is rather generic.”

“Didn’t we get something after Abonisle?” Irwyn asked. He had a vague memory of that.

“More a rumor given a fanciful title. Once everything had died down, most people don’t even remember our involvement. We might get some honorary membership with the inquisition after this, which is a claimable title.”

“Now I am curious about more,” Desir wondered.

“Specific positions and nobilities. Duke, Marshall, Ministers and such. There can be specific noble titles like Baron or Count, but the old families don’t distinguish by anything other than purity of blood and martial power of their mages. There are several titles for great Feats during the Lich war… half usually posthumous, I think. Anything else is more of a reputation than officially recognized. Actually, forgot Marquis. There is only one and they are in control of our contributory force that helps permanently guards the Scar in Duchy of White.”

“I always wanted to see it,” Alice spoke up after a while. “My grandpa said that Time and Space around the Scar are so frayed you can glimpse the fibers, whatever that means.”

“Not that it was of much use this time around,” Desir hummed. “Actually, most of the time. I get that it supposedly spits out more Liches than anywhere else, but there seems to be less efficiency involved, since we still have Lichwards pretty often.”

“Supposedly, at least a Ravener finds their way there every year. Culling them with overwhelming force is a great contribution. Not to mention the lesser undead. Small hordes just pop into reality there constantly. Sometimes a particularly clever one escapes, but that is very rare since the whole area is locked tight against any attempt at fleeing. Much like this place will be soon enough.” 

Then others began arriving. Squads of mages, usually mostly just intent capable and led by a single domain mage. Which was not a great force by any means, but they were actually standing back, indicating they were not the main part of the push. His confusion about the lack of other reinforcements was dispersed by a sudden burst of mana. The strong feeling of denial told him that all the surrounding reality rejected a man not standing close to them, thus he suddenly did. Irwyn wondered how mana intensive that spell had to be, give it presumably had to affect a large area.

That was the true force for their exit. Magelord A… A-something, which Irwyn would not admit out loud. It was prone to actually cause retaliation from the powerful mage who clearly did not like him already. 

“I have ordered the internal isolation arrays sealed,” the Magelord explained, at least professionally rather than angry. “The few malfunctions have collaborated your idea. Assuming this even comes from you, the damn inquisition is refusing to tell me much, even if it would be very useful.” 

“We should have more support, Alazat,” Elizabeth frowned. “Unless you intend to expose yourself by dealing with the rabble, there could be many draugr depending on how deep the infestation dwells.”

“You will be sufficient,” he grinned with a crooked smile. “No daughter of House Blackburg would balk at some minor battle, would she? To sneak under our noses like this, they won’t have too many undead present. I am sure you will be fine with me here even if a Ravener is somehow actually present. Onward! The other groups are about to enter and steal all the merit!”