Chương 66: 65-Know My Name

The Icosahedron in her hand was glowing. It emitted so much Dissonance that being near it was almost painful. It felt as though she were holding a storm in her hand.

"God, I never dreamed it would be so intense," Jenna gasped.

"What are you talking about?" asked Billy.

"I forgot that neither you nor Bob can feel Dissonance. Be very thankful for that."

"Keep low, Bob; they will see us if we fly toward them," Jenna hissed as she studied the combatants.

"This is an infiltration mission. We have to get past the two fighting armies and into the fortress. It will go much easier if they do not detect us." Bob obeyed, diving so fast that he made Billy yelp in fear—Charlie was probably driving the form. They landed four hundred feet south of the Elven army. It was a mighty sight indeed. Whole companies of Elven bowmen mounted on stags rode parallel to the besieged city walls, shooting glowing arrows that exploded as they hit the battlements.

Now and then, one of the riders would scream and fall bloodied from his mount—they were facing snipers. Squads of gryphons made passes over the city's defenses, throwing crystal spheres that detonated or released toxic fumes when they struck the ground. Legions of spearmen protected trebuchets that hurled their payloads over the city. Squads of spellsingers sang their magic into the air. The notes glowed, becoming visible, before joining each other in a symphony of magic.

Then they exploded, summoning mindless horrors that charged the front line: two-headed ogres, poisonous hags, and dark champions mounted on black unicorns—all the villains the Chant had to offer, summoned to wreak evil on others at the call of Elvenkind.

"We have to get into that city, and we must do it as soon as possible," said Bob.

"We probably have an army on our tracks right now."

"Something is wrong," Jenna muttered.

"These are not like the Elves we know. Valda is a matriarchal, rigid society in which the sexes are classified into roles. Men use magic, and women fight with weapons. Almost half of the spellsingers are female. I can see a fair number of male warriors, too."

"It is more than that, Jenna," Billy added.

"Our Elves are all dungeon-born. Valda has the legacy tag—it is based on the Elven Legacy the System offers as a Competency, but all Valdans are Essentials. All of these Elves are Experientials. They were born human. They became Elves by choosing the Legacy. There is not a single Essential Elf among them."

"Whatever," Jenna said.

"We have bigger fish to fry. Our enemies are minutes behind us. We can't hide from them in the chaos if they can locate us through the bloody Icosahedron. They will ignore everyone and go straight for us—we have to cloak the signal from their senses."

"I thought Dissonance could not be muffled," said Bob.

"I can't stop the artifact from screaming, but I can try to make its location less certain," she answered. Jenna concentrated for a moment, sinking her mind into the Icosahedron. She remembered how Eleon had masked their spirits when they were being pursued by the Postulants in Belona—perhaps she could do something similar.

"There," she said fifteen seconds later, looking satisfied.

"I have diffused the Dissonance all around. They can still detect it, but they will not be able to pinpoint the exact position of the Artifact. I can only spread it across a ten-mile radius, however."

"We can make it harder for them to find us, but we can't use this magic to shake them off," mused Bob.

"You got it in one, Bob. Let's mingle with these Elves," answered Jenna. They summoned their Elven gear around them. Bob used Fleshshaping and Billy his Assassin powers to transform into Elves. Jenna could not do that, but she modified her Spirit so that she would be harder to notice. She brought it down to -2, fading her presence. People would interact with Bob and Billy and ignore her. They would also forget her as soon as she was out of sight.

She realized it was the first time she had used a negative Stat effectively. She had always assumed that negative stats were detrimental by default. Not for the first time, she wondered if some of her limits were self-imposed.

"Run as if you know exactly where you are going. Ignore any attempt at interaction—no one will stop us if they think we are following orders," she muttered under her breath. They soon reached the outer borders of the Elven encampment. Just as Jenna had predicted, no one gave them a second look. The camp was a hive of frantic activity. Jenna noticed new details as they ran through the encampment. Only a minority of the soldiers were Elves. The rest were humans.

An Elven bowman mounted on a gryphon joked with the bowman to his left.

"The one who puts arrows into the most Dwarves wins the bet. You are losing today, Smith!" Smith? What kind of Elven name was that? What was going on here? Jenna enhanced her pattern recognition for a few seconds, trying to get a broader view. … rank-and-file soldiers sweated and grunted as they marched towards the city. Human soldiers. Not a single Elf among them… … a few kids worked industriously, polishing the weapons of a haughty Elf who supervised them. Squires. Human squires…

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. … an Elven Knight galloped past her, a coat of arms emblazoned on his chest. It was a poster from some strange human band… … Dwarf prisoners were being brutally questioned to her right.

"Where is it? Where do you keep it?" a brutal Elf sergeant asked his victim before hitting him again.

"You were right, Billy," Jenna said.

"These guys are all humans playing at being Elves. They are probably part of some military faction, much like the Federation, but based on the Elven Legacy and classes."

"They are some kind of meritocracy. You are born human, and if you excel, you are taught the Legacy and become an Elf. That is why the officers are all Elven and why the humans look so underfed and miserable."

"And they want something from these Dwarves. They have some kind of precious resource in their citadel. That is what the war is about. They are basically raiders."

"We should keep going," Bob muttered as they passed the artillery positions.

"Won't be long now. God, how are we going to get into that citadel?" Jenna heard Billy's sudden intake of breath. He had seen what the trebuchets were using as payload: they were Dwarves. Live Dwarves. Their bodies were covered in brightly glowing runes, and the prisoners themselves were tightly bound in manacles. They moaned in pain—it was clear those runes hurt. The Elven artillerists mounted one of the runed Dwarves on the trebuchet, jeering at and mocking the prisoner.

The earth trembled as the trebuchet hurled its living projectile against the walls of the city. The Dwarf exploded as it hit the wall, releasing an enormous cloud of fire shaped like the Dwarf's face. The fiery face was contorted in pain—the blast sounded like a scream. Artillery blast and psychological warfare, all in one go. The Elves laughed.

"No, these are not like our Elves at all," muttered Jenna. For the first time, she felt happy that death was hounding them. These Elves deserved a brush with it.

"The Dwarves are a mixed bunch," said Billy as he examined the line of prisoners.

"Some emit Essence, some don't. Essentials and Experientials. The latter acquired the Dwarf Legacy at some point in their careers; the former were born Dwarves, it seems ""Made," Jenna corrected.

"What do you mean, Jenna?" asked Billy.

"They were made, or created, or whatever. They were certainly not born. I am examining them with Spirit. They have no sex."

"No sex, as in they are all male?"

"No sex, as in they look like Barbie dolls from the waist down. Have you never wondered why there are no female Dwarves?"

"It is for the same reason that there are no male Dwarves—they don't exist."

"When he died, your old postman saved himself from a very unpleasant conversation with his wife." Billy looked at the dwarven citadel once more, then at some of the dwarven prisoners.

"There is a dungeon in there, I am sure of it. That is the source of Essentials. It has got some interesting tags: Hatchery, Repository, and two new ones— Legacy (Dwarf) and Orichalcum."

"Orichalcum?" said Bob, suddenly perking up.

"Isn't that supposed to be some type of magical metal?"

"I think it is, Bob," Billy answered.

"That is probably what the Elves are after." The citadel was on its last legs. Jenna's enhanced vision picked out a spot where the trebuchets had torn down the wall. A squad of Dwarves was holding the fort. They seemed to be some sort of rune-based spellcasters. Glowing sigils of light appeared in front of them, floating towards the breach. A barrier of green light was forming there, keeping the breach shut. The runes joined the glowing barrier, lending their strength to it.

"We must get there, no matter how much it costs. The key to the next step of our journey is in the main temple in that city," Jenna said.

"Perhaps we could offer to help the Dwarves? They seem to be the good guys here," answered Billy.

"Let's not turn this into a good guys - bad guys situation," said Bob.

"For all we know, the Dwarves could be monsters, too."

"You are right, Bob," answered Billy.

"Let's turn it instead into a guys who throw war prisoners against battlements- guys who don't situation."

"Shut up, both of you," Jenna snapped as a trumpet sounded across the sky.

"They have caught up with us. There is a third army in play."

"Oh, my God," said Bob as he looked at the sky.

"Are those…?"

"They certainly look like it," answered Jenna as she saw thousands of winged humanoids littering the sky.

"The cynic in me says that these new guys have as much in common with angels as Smith does with a true Elf." Jenna examined one of them with her Compendium powers. Level 27 Celestial Cupbearer"They are not true angels. They are Experientials, much like the Elves. They all have the Angel Legacy—we can kill them without going to hell," she explained.

"Must admit that wasn't high on my list of worries," muttered Bob. The arrival of the new army was shocking enough to make the Elves and the Dwarves stop trying to kill each other. Two winged figures separated from the host and descended until they were only one hundred feet over the Elven camp. One was a warrior in shining armor, carrying a spear in one hand and a trumpet in the other. The other was a female humanoid with an eagle's head.

The female positioned herself in front of the warrior and spoke in a clear, sonorous voice that carried across the battlefield. The language she used was alien, sounding both archaic and elegant, but Jenna could understand it all the same—the angel was using some sort of translation effect.

"Know my name: I am Marphel, Speaker for the Celestial Host, in the service of Araphel, in whose shadow I stand. Give us back the Icosahedron so that we can restore cosmic order. Do it, and we will leave you to your war." Marphel seemed to be expecting some kind of answer. She waited for exactly seven seconds. Then she announced, "Araphel wishes to meet the leaders of your army." Jenna watched as the shining warrior slowly landed on top of the hill. A slight murmur rippled through the Elven army. Minutes passed.

Araphel waited patiently on top of the hill.

"I don't like this, Jenna," Bob said. A small group of Elves, all in ornate armor, separated from the army and went to Araphel.

"It does look like a trap," conceded Jenna.

"These jerks are too drunk on their own beauty and power. They truly seem to believe Angels would step down from heaven to make deals with them. Perhaps they think they can split the Orichalcum." The Elven leaders, twelve in number, finally reached Araphel. The angel began to glow. Jenna studied the Angel with Logsight. It was readying an attack called Hammer of Sodom. Sodom? She suddenly understood what they were doing.

"Do not look!" Jenna screamed as she tackled Billy and Bob to the ground, dragging them into the mud. Araphel emitted a burst of light so brilliant that Jenna could feel it through her closed eyes. When she opened them, she had trouble understanding what she saw. Every non-angel who had been looking at Araphel when the light erupted had been turned into a statue of salt. The Elves had not only lost their leaders but more than one-third of their troops in one blow.

Their war cries ringing across the battlefield, the rest of the Celestial Host fell upon the gathered mortal armies.