BECMI Chapter 205 – The Coming of the Storm

“Do you know much of the Angru?” Gaulithar Thallaniin, dark-haired and emerald-eyed Clanlord of the Cyapri, inquired of me.“I know a great deal more than they would believe that I do, yes,” I confirmed for him, earning a startled glance. “Which of their misogynistic and xenophobic racial and cultural supremacy biases are you concerned about?” I inquired of him.

“Ah.” He considered his words as he smiled and waved to some elven children racing past. They promptly changed course, looking at me rather wide-eyed as they drew closer. For some reason, most elves didn’t dress in crimson and black with ruffles and lace, or have skin which gave milk whiteness envy.

My ink-and-blood eyes stood on their own, of course.

Nevertheless, I conjured up a handful of lovely crimson roses for them to take, making a subtle shooing motion to indicate we were speaking. They laughed and snatched them up, shooting knowing looks at the two of us before racing away.

“They have an old order, called the Men of the Storm, which is attempting to incite the Angru and Siricil overall into hostility against the Rangers we are training, and against elves and other non-humans as a whole,” he began carefully, watching me nod, completely unsurprised at the revelation. “They have been making efforts to attempt to ambush and kill Rangers when they can.”

“And you have not been hunting them down in return because they would accuse you of turning against loyal humans of the Empire, while those attacking you are simply rogue elements?” I inquired with deep schadenfreude.

“That… does seem to be the tactics they are employing,” he agreed hesitantly. “Naturally, as they are all Angru humans, infiltrating them is quite difficult, and attempting to track and follow them has run into many complications, more than once,” he admitted.

“So, are you asking for advice on how to counter-attack them, insight into why they are doing so, or how to deal with them politically?”

His deep green eyes weighed on me thoughtfully. “You truly do know a great deal about them, don’t you?”

“Yes.” As if a human super-racist organization wasn’t going to spur my interest and attention… and especially the Sims I had left in the past. A pattern of behavior repeated in other times and places, as it was so successful, and had led to so many disasters.

“How do we counter-attack them?” Clanlord Thallaniin finally asked.

“I trust you have the names and possibly even the bodies of those known to be guilty of such attacks?” I inquired, reaching into my sleeve and flipping out a furled Scroll, the glitter of the seal upon it indicating it held magic.

“We do,” he confirmed. I passed the spell over to him, and he broke the seal confidently. Blood flickered on his thumb, stole over the contents in a wash of ruby light, and he looked it over, a complex expression forming on his face. Follow current ɴᴏᴠᴇʟs on ????????????????????•????????????????•????????????

“A spell to speak with the recently dead. Necromancy…” he murmured in some distaste.

“Technically, you are speaking with the shadow of the soul left in the remains, not the soul itself. The more powerful the Caster, the more questions you can ask, but be aware you can only use the spell once per set of remains.” Well, as it stood. versions could be used again, once per each Valence of but that style of magic was very much not known here. “The main questions should be: What are the names of your fellow members and contacts of the Order of the Storm? Where can they be found? Where are the bases of operations of the Order of the Storm that you know of precisely located? What are the identities of the sympathizers and supporters of your Order that you know of?”

The elven Clanlord’s emerald eyes narrowed as he considered the possibilities and the questions that could be asked. “Questioning multiple dead Stormboots would give us a very clear idea of the structure of the cult, such as it is. We could then move against it in secret with much less effort.”

“Indeed. Simple use of spells to conceal who is actually attacking, and the skills of the Rangers, mean that they could disguise themselves as wizards or warriors when attacking as they desire, would further mislead them. However, the key aspect is for the raiders themselves to remain undiscovered. That means both disposing of the bodies of dead Stormboots so they cannot be examined, questioned, or returned to life by other means, and having spells upon the Rangers which deny Divinations attempting to track them down. Ideally, an active upon them, which would require the most adept among the Rangers, a logical choice for such, or others to Cast the magic upon them before striking.”

I passed four other spells to him, and he took them slowly, one by one. The cut on his thumb didn’t have time to heal as the blood-attunement washed across each Scroll, and he read them one by one.

“We can supply Blood-bound spell pages to each Ranger that you recommend, it costs no more than scribing a normal spell.”

The spells were , a Valence I which would dispose of the bodies, merely sever the head beforehand (and it did extra damage against undead and negative energy creatures); , a Valence II which would make a weapon extremely dangerous against humans, as well as turn a Weapon into a True Death Weapon that would defy and spells (don’t pass that to humans, they’d only be hurting themselves, elves only!); , a II which the elves and Rangers might know, but it covered the bases; and , a V+ which they also might or might not know, although I was sure normal was present in their libraries as a II.

Stolen story; please report.

“These… will be of great use to us,” he admitted with pleasure. Hey, he wasn’t an Elven Wizard, but all elves enjoyed new magic. “A proper veil of secrecy and suitable misdirection by pretending to be other rival forces will defuse their political voices as they lash out against everyone in paranoid fits,” he nodded slowly, slowly furling up the multiple Scrolls, pausing as I handed over a scroll tube of carved dragonbone, and then accepting it with casual aplomb to house the Scrolls in.

“Merely contact us with how many copies you require to be Blood-bound and we can supply them with a ” I stated firmly. “Just have the payment ready, as copying spells is not overly expensive, but you know well the ink is not free.”

“Yes,” he agreed, even if the sum was individually manageable, requiring a copy for each person. Not being able to copy their own did make them more expensive.

Making it so they couldn’t be copied or stolen by rivals was well worth it, however!

“You said you had insight into their motivations. I would be interested in hearing that, as well,” he told me quietly.

“They are being subtly misdirected by an Immortal infiltrator,” I answered immediately.

Gaulithar blinked, instantly on guard. “You… are certain?” the Clanlord asked quickly.

“Yes, and the Immortal responsible has done the same thing before, and to Tenya Herself, as well! Given Her focus on War and lack of subtlety, she completely missed the influence and ascribed it to failings on the part of Her mortal adherents. I imagine the culprit is secretly very amused it is working again.

“It is obvious if you consider the Order’s prevailing ethos. It is misogynistic, favoring men and relegating women to the home. Tenya is a warrior goddess and would never countenance such discrimination. The last time that happened to a favored people of hers, the two nations split, and She arranged for the utter destruction of the sexist offenders.

“Tenya is also clearly opportunistic, and even if She favors humans and their predilection for war, She does not discriminate against non-humans, if you look at any of the lore and codes of Her Church. The Angru even discriminate against other humans, considering themselves superior to all of them, and Tenya also has no such status mentioned in any of Her lore. The Angru are just another of the ancient Caladdi tribes, nothing unique… and most importantly, they are not the tribe SHE came from.

“They venerate Her as a goddess of war and the true Patron of Siricil, but only in lip service. They very firmly reject Her rules and strictures in favor of their own. Tell me, elder, could that actually be done without another Immortal pulling the strings?”

The Clanlord looked extremely troubled by the implications, but he could not argue with me, now that he was looking at the information in a new light. “So, they truly are a cult,” he murmured in both fear and distaste. “Do you know which Immortal?” he inquired softly.

“I do. Do you truly wish to know who, instead of merely that one is involved?” I replied shortly.

That gave him pause, and he actually ruminated over that for a long minute, considering the implications, before he gasped softly.

“They don’t even know they are being manipulated away from Her, do they?” he asked me sharply, his green eyes flashing with enlightenment.

“They do not. They are fanatics, thinking they are the most faithful of Her servants, completely deluded that they tear Her faith apart from within because of the twisting of Her creed,” I confirmed for him as we strolled into a flower garden maintained by the community at large, the blossoms bright and full under the ministrations of the elves, ignoring variations in their pollination periods. “The best dupes are always those who think they are right and doing holy work, are they not?”

Gaulithar’s face was grim at my words. “That is all too true,” he agreed with me. “You are warning me not to probe too directly into this matter, because doing or alluding to will stir Immortal interest, who will come looking for the source of the interference.”

“That is correct,” I nodded firmly, trailing my hand over rainbow beds of tulips which shivered and shimmered at my passing. “Mortals doing mortal things to other mortals in pursuit of mortal desires is entertainment. Mortals doing harm to Immortal Projects and sussing out Immortal involvement is a whole other matter, and opens one up to Immortal retribution, subtle or overt as the case may be.”

His lips thinned dangerously. “This Immortal is already acting against us. I may not know the name of them, but that is irrelevant if I act against their mortal servants through methods of my own,” he reasoned slowly. “Is there a reason we were singled out, other than not being human?” he asked after a moment more.

“You were not singled out for not being human. You were singled out because you were doing a great and good thing, and that needed to be prevented at all costs.”

He actually stopped in his tracks, looking at me, a bit thunderstruck. “What?” the Clanlord asked me, stunned I would say such a thing to him.

I pulled at his sleeve lightly, and he resumed walking, clearly a bit flustered.

“Elder, do you realize how very, very rare it is for the different races to work together as you have arranged? For an Immortal as bound to the race they came from as mortals to open their heart enough to allow such a thing? Corellin represents some of the most conservative and ancient beliefs of the elven peoples.

“And yet, He and you arranged for humans to live among your people, to learn the ways of elves, to actually participate in magic as elves do, and to be blessed by a Lumina Tree. You gave humans who had no ability to wield magic the power to do so as naturally as an elf.

“By doing this, you have given rise to entire human generations of truly noble heroes. You set up your whole tribe as wise mentors and teachers who train the best and the brightest of the empire into being something even better, and not the individualistic gloryhound conquerors of Siricil.

“You don’t train mighty Siricilan warriors and gladiators here, elder. You train noble heroes, and all of Siricil, and even the lands beyond, know it. You need only contrast the Rangers trained by the Cyapri against all other standards of Siricilan heroes to see the difference… and rest assured that EVERYONE sees the difference, they merely don’t see the implications.”