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261 We're Done Waiting
🕑 Added 2025-10-03 23:00:10 +0000 UTC– Era of the Wastes, Cycle 219, Season of the Setting Moon, Day 48 –
– Era of the Wastes, Cycle 219, Season of the Setting Moon, Day 48 –
“Maybe you should have sent Bugsby to us,” said Jorg. “The way he’s reading books, he would have finished the Sun’s library by now. I’m still not sure if I missed anything.”
You and me both…
“I don’t think that would have worked,” said Terry wryly. He accompanied his words with finger runes. “Remember that I think the Sun is after Bugsby. If I’m right, then the Sun would not let him go. I don’t know if they have anything to stop his void teleportation, but I can’t rule it out, either.”
Bugsby tilted his head. [Some elves bearing the sun tried magic in the past. Made it more difficult to—]
“Could you slow down the runes, please?” asked Terry, because he had noticed the furrows growing deeper on his brother’s forehead. Jorg was still struggling to sense the finger runes, even though he had practiced a lot with both Bugsby and Terry. Switching from mana sight to pure mana sense was difficult.
[Sorry.] Bugsby nodded quickly and threw an apologetic glance at Jorg. [Their magic made it difficult to teleport, but the long-distance lines were unaffected.]
“The ones that have an unpredictable target destination,” remarked Terry.
[I never thought about that magic,] said Bugsby. [I always assumed all elves were after the shroomans. Never considered some might be after me.]
The shroomans can’t teleport, but Bugsby was helping Shroomling escape, so that magic could target either.
Terry was getting increasingly frustrated at all the uncertainty he had to deal with.
“You asked Mia to come back,” said Jorg. “What are you planning to do?”
I wish I knew.
“You’re going to pick a fight, aren’t you?” asked Jorg gravely.
Terry observed his brother closely. He had noticed the downtrodden tone in Jorg’s question. It was easy to read his whaka’s thoughts.
There was going to be a fight.
A fight in which Jorg, blind as he currently was, could not offer any help.
“I don’t know yet,” said Terry. He bit his lips. He thought back to the new answers he had received about the situation at the Sun from Jorg and Patricia.
They had never seen any giant corpses arriving. They didn’t know what happened to the giants that the sun elves collected during their season of culling.
They had read Sun reports of both uncoordinated and coordinated funghoul activity, but the vast majority of reports described the uncoordinated variety.
The biggest surprise was that a group led by Verecund had apparently discovered and partially excavated tunnels that might be of dungeon origin.
Might be.
It was uncertain if the tunnel remnants really originated from an active dungeon. The only certain fact was that no dungeon activity existed now.
Terry shook his head. He exhaled sharply and stood up. “I need some exercise.”
I have to clear my head.
The time was ticking…
***
“The day after tomorrow,” prompted Patricia while signing finger runes. They had all started practicing finger runes more frequently. In part to help Jorg. In part to allow Vess and Tiana in their more distanced camp to remain part of the conversation without having to shout all the time.
“Yup,” said Terry somberly.
“What are we going to do?” asked Jorg.
‘We’?
Terry turned his head to look at Jorg. At some point during the past two days, Jorg’s spirits had been lifted, but the way he spoke about what was going to happen had also changed.
Terry wasn’t sure what to make of it yet, but he wouldn’t complain about his brother feeling better.
[You don’t know what you want to do?]
Terry read Vess’s finger runes from a distance. He had talked everything over with his friends countless times. The facts – or presumed facts – remained clear, but what to do with them was the real question.
Terry had gotten more time to himself since Jorg and Patricia had arrived. He felt more comfortable distancing himself from Shroomling with more companions he trusted around.
“I do,” said Terry. It was the first time he said it out loud. His mind had finally settled. He wasn’t sure if it was the right approach, but it was the best he had.
Terry ignored the looks of surprise and curiosity. He took a deep breath and explained. “I’ll go to the Sun.” He glanced at Jorg. “I’m going to see what they are hiding. Or rather feel what they are hiding. I’m not sure I want to expose my eyes to whatever traps they have there. Even with an active internal disruption, I wouldn’t want to risk that.”
“Why the Sun?” asked Patricia. “That’s going to lead to a battle, and as far as battles go, I would have thought you’ll go after the Moon, given everything that happened.” She glanced towards Vess’s camp. “Everything they’ve done.”
“The moon elves are monsters,” said Terry in a detached tone while nodding slightly. He switched to shaking his head. “But they’re not exactly hiding it, are they? No, with everything I know, there’s something missing. Something that’s hidden. Something that someone’s hiding.”
Everything Terry had were theories and suspicions, but the more he heard, the more his suspicions were confirmed.
The funghoul giants in the Deadlands around the Moon whose numbers didn’t quite match what he had heard from the giant tribes themselves.
The sun elves that were retrieving the corpses of giants.
The Sun that was always at war with the Moon until they weren’t.
Until the Wrath took a heavier toll on the Moon than on the Sun.
The Sun that professed to worship life, but engaged in deadly hunts and wars.
And suddenly decided to prioritize fleeing the realm over curing the curse.
Contradictions inviting suspicions.
The secret ancestral ground was only the last piece fitting a puzzle forming a single certain outline within a sea of uncertainty.
“The Sun is hiding something,” stressed Terry. “And I have to know what. I don’t believe they’re going to just tell me, nor would I be able to trust what they say. So I’ll have to see for myself.”
[You mean we.] Tiana’s finger runes carried a subtextual intent of challenge.
“This isn’t going to be a battle to win,” stressed Terry while hoping his accompanying finger runes would explain his intent better than his words alone could. “This is going to be a battle to see. Scouting. The only reason I’m calling it battle is because of everything we know about Jorg’s incident. There’s barely going to be any time.”
“So it would be faster if we have more people to work with.” Patricia pointed out.
“Not faster than my mana touch,” retorted Terry. “If this was about sneaking in, then I’d be the first to ask for your help, Patricia, but from what you told me, remaining undetected is not really realistic. If they’re really as fast as you said, even I can only cover a fraction of what there is to search.”
Patricia frowned.
Surprisingly, Jorg didn’t.
Terry furrowed his brow.
“We can still cause a ruckus,” suggested Rafael. “Create a distraction.”
“Want to help the instructor master,” added Deekin while nodding.
Terry held his forehead. “Please don’t call me that.” He shook his head. “And I’ve considered that, but I don’t want to start a war between the Sun and the expedition. If it’s just me, then it’s easier for everyone else to denounce me in case something goes wrong.”
Or right.
“Scouting-wise, you’re not going to speed anything up, and keeping you out of it keeps a fallback option open where you can continue working with the expedition and the Sun,” explained Terry.
“I don’t really care, though,” grumbled Rafael.
“How about we come, but we focus on getting Terry out of trouble if necessary,” suggested Jorg.
Terry was torn between telling Jorg to stay away, particularly given his condition, and acknowledging that his suggestion might be the best compromise they could reach.
[We want to help, too.] Finger runes popped up where Terry didn’t expect it.
“Bugsby?” Terry turned his head.
Wait, ‘we’?
Terry’s eyes moved to the little mushroom person next to the beetlefolk.
[She understands you want to help the realm,] explained Bugsby. [The shroomans trust you and want to help. Help realm become happy. Help life become healthy. Trust Terry.] He translated for Shroomling.
Terry stared at the little mushroom person. “Help how?”
***
Terry sensed the strange phenomenon in mana and darted towards it. He stared at the pair with wide eyes. “What the Wastes are you doing?”
His brother grinned at him sheepishly. “Well, we’re done waiting, aren’t we? Today’s the day, and I refuse to simply be baggage or let my whaka walk into danger alone.”
“I won’t even be alone!” protested Terry.
“This is so weird.” Jorg reflexively cleaned his antenna. “Like seeing smells in a single blurry color sprinkled with… I don’t even know how to describe this.”
Antenna?!
“What did you do?!” Terry stared at his dwarven brother who was now sporting not just a bloody bandage over his eyes but also two small antennae above.
“I’ve decided to make a little promise to a little friend in exchange for a new sense,” said Jorg, who was now examining his own hands in his strange new sense.
Terry moved his eyes to Bugsby.
[I’ve found my tree finder!] signed Bugsby excitedly. He trusted Terry, and Terry trusted Jorg. He had been happy when Terry’s brother had made the offer. Jorg had told him about something called a druid tree that he knew about. Magic trees whose druids might allow Bugsby to nest in.
“I guess these are the lines you told me about…?” Jorg tilted his head, which caused his antennae to wiggle slightly.
[Don’t reach out!] warned Bugsby.
“I hope I’m getting the hang of this before Mia arrives,” mumbled Jorg with a frown.
[Should be instinctual now,] said Bugsby. [Be mindful of the antennae. The tree finder gift is fragile at first.] His own antennae lowered slightly. [Can revoke the gift if you want.]
“Never.” Jorg held out a hand to Bugsby. “We’re friends now. If I’m even remotely useful in the upcoming task, I’ll never forget the debt I owe you here.”
“Great, and who is going to explain this to Ma and Pa?” asked Terry, who was already getting a headache.
“Uhh…” Jorg coughed. “I’m injured and weak. I think you should do it.” He pretended to faint.
“You little…” Terry glared at his brother, but couldn’t help but notice how a lot of the tension about the upcoming task had left him.
Who could worry about launching an ‘assault’ on the Sun’s secret ancestral grounds when he had to worry about explaining to his parents why his brother returned with antennae?
Terry chuckled to himself.
This was going to be one of the strangest assaults the connected realms had ever seen…
***
“Don’t get killed,” said Mia. She moved a skeptical eye over Terry’s strange assault squad before looking at the second group. “Let’s go.”
Mia disappeared with Rafael, Tiana, Vess, and Patricia to take them to an observation point from where they could intervene at their own discretion. Mia would continue moving to inform other expedition members whom Terry trusted of what he was trying to achieve.
Terry knew he was risking the relationship with the locals from the Sun faction. He had to give the rest of the expedition at least some heads-up, but he also wasn’t willing to risk someone leaking information and everything going to shit even faster than was necessary.
Everything in this plan depended on timing.
Once they started, he couldn’t afford to lose even a moment, which was the only reason he had agreed to the adjustments to his plan at the behest of his friends and companions – both old and new.
We have to hurry. Deekin isn’t exactly subtle, no matter how much we try to cover him up.
Mia had brought them as far as possible without triggering any intrusion wards, which would save them time, but also meant the chance of being discovered was high.
Terry felt the bracer of his whaka touch on his own. He glanced at his brother. He looked over the gathering of somber shroomans.
Terry didn’t dwell on how he could tell that the shroomans were somber despite their lack of understandable facial expressions. Something in their wiggles in both body and soul.
This was a number of shroomans larger than any Terry had ever seen in this realm. At least several entire Shroomvilles worth. Terry was still surprised how quickly Shroomling had managed to gather such numbers for his ridiculous plan.
Ridiculous.
Even more ridiculous, because no matter how many shroomans there were, none of the shroomans had any combat potential.
What they did have, was weird magic that could link Terry’s mana to foreign-naturalized mana. The very same magic that Terry had seen them perform to celebrate life and create the spores of connectedness.
And now their magic will be directly attuned to my own mana.
Terry sensed for Oz hidden within the shadows of his cloak. He was glad about the slime’s ability to blast linked mana to the shadow plane without having to move itself, because this way, it could stay safe while accompanying him.
Terry felt the pressure of Bugsby clinging to his back inside the cloak.
Terry glanced at Deekin, who was crouching down and partially hiding underneath the camouflage cloak Terry had used to infiltrate the Lich Kingdoms.
Terry had tried to dissuade them. He had tried to come up with better plans, but failed on both accounts. This was truly their best shot.
Terry nodded at Jorg, who then broke off the traditional whaka forearm ceremony. This time, they would both move together.
“Ready, big guy?” Jorg asked Deekin.
“Yes, little master,” said Deekin. He allowed the little person to climb up one of the ropes he was wearing as a harness.
Deekin couldn’t help but respect the little master. The one called Jorg was shorter than anyone Deekin had ever met – excluding Bugsby and Shroomling, at least. Despite his shortness, Jorg had proven his strength to Deekin in a blind-folded sparring session. The little master had even given Deekin further advice on how to deal with his mana when it wouldn’t quite listen to him. Advice that helped him understand better than the explanations of his instructor master.
Deekin was proud to stand with his masters. Walk shoulder to shoulder with folks of such strength, no matter at what height those shoulders were. Being allowed into a group of powerful individuals was a mark of honor among his tribe. Only the strong would get a chance to join the strong.
Deekin’s instructor master had repeatedly warned him against joining them. Stressed how dangerous it could be. It almost seemed like the more Deekin insisted that he was strong and could contribute, the more his instructor master tried to dissuade him as if his strength – or lack thereof – wasn’t the point.
Deekin didn’t understand his instructor master sometimes. His furry master was a lot easier to understand. His furry master made no attempt to dissuade Deekin from joining. Far from it. His furry master had encouraged him and ordered him to make his furry master proud.
Deekin wanted to make his masters proud. They deserved it. They had granted him a reason to feel proud of himself. He felt he owed them his pride.
Joining an assault on the Sun’s sacred sanctum was something that could let a giant’s reputation rise in the tribe. Deekin had accepted the wisdom of his instructor master, but even if it was wrong to eat little folks, because even little people could have potential, the Sun was still an enemy of giantkind. They always had been.
As such, it was completely bewildering when his instructor master stressed to move fast and avoid casualties. In Deekin’s opinion, that contradicted the entire idea of an assault. What was the point of power when you don’t use it?
Deekin definitely didn’t understand his instructor master sometimes, but he had come to trust the instructor’s wisdom. Little people had potential. His masters had proven that to him. Deekin would have to ponder his master’s wisdom before he could clear up his remaining confusion.
While Deekin was lost in his thoughts, Jorg secured himself to Deekin’s shoulder.
Terry gave the signal to start the strangest scouting assault he would ever lead.
***
“What’s that noise?” An elf wearing a copper-colored uniform bearing a large sun asked his fellow guards.
“Forget the drums. Do you feel this?” Their assigned mage looked completely distraught.
The ambient mana appeared to struggle against his attempts at harvesting.
His own mana felt sluggish, even slipping from his control at times.
His mana sight showed a brighter intensity than he was used to.
It was suffocating.
“GIANT!” came a roar from another location.
The guards sprang to action and looked, only to remain more confused than anything. They had expected many things, but a single giant charging at their gate was simply beyond their expectations.
“What’s that?!”
While the drum sounds got louder, they could finally see where the sound was coming from. The ground was covered by little mushrooms wiggling and pulsing, continuously vanishing and reappearing at other locations.
Right when they were preparing to attack, their attention was drawn to the brightest flare of mana they had ever seen.
A person rushed by and left layers of translucent golden mana boxing them in. Even their armor and weapons refused to move.
“Attack!”
The command was entirely impotent when spells were ripped apart and weapons transfixed.
When even the few ranged attacks that had been fast enough were blocked.
Blocked by translucent golden mana.
Blocked by other barriers springing up around the giant.
When they thought it couldn’t get worse, they lost sight of the attackers, only to hear shouts and drums from further inside the compound.
The words got stuck in the throat of the confused commander of the outer guard. They had just been overrun. That much was evident.
But…
There wasn’t a single casualty on their side.
The guards glanced around to find mushrooms teleporting around everywhere. Spreading the sounds of drums. Wiggling tauntingly.
Without causing any damage whatsoever?
What was going on?
***
Terry couldn’t put into words how relieved he was that both Bugsby’s and Jorg’s short-range teleportation was working to speed up their progress and bypass gates. Every gate they didn’t have to break down was another moment saved.
Initially, Terry had argued for Bugsby to stick with Deekin, because teleporting the giant was a more strenuous task and Jorg hadn’t had a lot of time to get used to his new tree finder abilities that touched on not only the space but also the void aspect.
However, Jorg had pulled through, and their current pairing was better. Jorg could cast his own spells to protect Deekin and the surrounding shroomans. He could also use his new sense to roughly guide Deekin when the giant would become unable to use his eyes because of the compound’s traps.
Terry could feel his mana pumping.
Pumping through his veins.
Pumping into the entire area across more than one plane.
From his continued emission pulses.
From the shadows spread by Oz.
From the shroomans and their wide-area magic.
Nothing remained hidden from his mana touch.
When nothing stood out to his senses, Terry sent a thought transmission and they rushed forward.
Terry’s mana touch spread far and wide and was instantly pursued by Immovable Object spells.
Planes slightly drifted to move latches, beams, and bolts to leave doors they needed unlocked, and the sun elves trapped in their chambers even before doors and equipment became immovable.
Unstoppable shifting grinders scoured the area to damage magical enchantments and hinges for doors that would require too much mana to properly unlock.
All in coordination with Bugsby and Jorg, who would warn Terry of every obstacle that might pose a problem for their abilities. Obstacles that could not simply be bypassed with their teleportation.
The first time they encountered a gate that was such an obstacle, Terry burst his mana.
He hurled powerful divine hammers into the gate’s weakest points.
He stomped into the gate, and then jumped to the side, so that Deekin could tackle the gate full-burst.
The massive collision took the door out of its damaged hinges and the moment it was down, Bugsby and Jorg teleported them further while Terry’s mana gushed forth eagerly.
Terry’s mana touch didn’t miss a single trap. He marked the locations to use his linked mana with the shroomans to help them avoid the locations and whenever he was really worried for them, he boxed the traps inside divine barriers or allowed a shadow spear from Oz to blow them up harmlessly.
They moved swiftly, bypassing guards, gates, and traps wherever they found them.
They rushed the compound, leaving most of the sun elves no time to react.
Most sun elves that could react in time, found themselves trapped and transfixed.
Those smart enough to cast ranged spells with movable casting centers beyond the range of their entrapment, discovered their spellwork disrupted and torn apart by swift spell slicers.
Few of their best mages succeeded in placing self-sustaining casting centers that unleashed powerful roots to block the path of the intruders, only to witness them blocked by barriers, bypassed by teleportation, or torn apart by the massive limbs of a giant wielding more power than should be possible given its stature.
When Terry’s group discovered the kind of trap that had blinded Jorg, he marked the location and Jorg raised an earthen wall in front of it before Deekin was allowed to open his eyes again.
Bugsby warned Terry with finger runes that there was another gate that blocked teleportation in the distance. The beetlefolk's attunement to space and void was a lot more sensitive than Jorg’s, so he could give advance warning.
Terry frowned at the solid sensation in his mana touch. His Immovable Object spell activated on the gate’s hinges and disruption grinders swiftly went to work to weaken the gate before their arrival.
He hurled divine hammers.
He unleashed aspected discharges from his mana sublimators.
He and Deekin smashed their most powerful strikes into their obstacle.
When the slightest crack had opened, Terry’s mana rushed inwards. Discovering every further opening. Every secret wall. Every cloaked tunnel.
Mana-osmotic material blocked him, but a well-placed spell on the surrounding rock and unstoppable shifting grinders quickly opened tiny paths for his mana to pierce through and feel around.
They were moving swiftly, but the number of guards they had to get by was increasing steadily.
Even so, they persevered.
Until Terry felt it.
Felt something.
Something vaguely familiar.
Something terrifying.
“KILL THEM!” A roar reverberated from the deepest location in the Sun’s ancestral ground. “QUICKLY!”
[Run! Gather the shroomans and run!] Terry ordered Jorg without hesitation. One of his conditions for agreeing to their current pairing was that there would be no discussion when Terry had to give such a command. He also sent a transmission to his companions waiting at the observation point.
Jorg used a device he had crafted with the help of Bugsby. A device that could transmit a message in a way the shroomans could understand.
Bugsby also instructed the nearest shroomans directly with the signal to flee.
“The realm traveler is here! CAPTURE IT!” Another roar drowned the Sun’s ancestral ground.
Terry didn’t know if he should be happy that his suspicions had been confirmed or miserable because of the battle ahead of him.
Actions.
Terry’s mindset switched from scouting to battle.
In the area from where the roars originated, he could sense five elves sitting in thrones surrounding a tree.
Each of them was deeply drenched in the Wrath, marking them as an enemy of the Ungodly Angel, the only cursemage among the Faithless Saints.
These elves were ancient.
Each of them was marked with a channeling anchor.
A channeling anchor that carried the same signature that Terry had sensed in the folded space.
The channeling anchor that had led the cursed army.
Terry fought defensively. Using barriers and immovable objects until Deekin finally closed the large sack into which he had scooped the shroomans, so that they could all leave together, leaving no one behind.
Terry’s king spear pierced into the throneroom of the cultist elders and unleashed a lightning blast right into their midst.
Today’s parting gift for the enemies of the Faithless Saints.
For the enemies of the shroomans and the realm.
For Terry’s enemies.
Concealed behind the blindingly intense lightning was the rush of spell slicers invading the cultists’ channeling anchors.
Terry was under no delusion that he could severely damage them with just this. In contrast to this realm’s outdated spellwork, the channeling anchor was the magic mark of an otherrealm creature.
Even so, Terry was already in his fighting mindset. He wanted to probe his enemies. If that also served to severely irritate them, then all the better.
“KILL THEM!” Rage incarnate roared from the cursed cultists, and a powerful surge of strange mana erupted.
Jorg and Bugsby worked together to envelop their entire scouting assault troop.
Terry could feel something shift in the surrounding space.
Something triggered by the cultists.
Crap, did they really develop a way to block void-incorporating teleportation?
He could sense Bugsby’s soul strain.
He could feel Jorg’s face contort in concentration.
Terry mentally prepared to fight his way out in case they wouldn’t be able to overcome the sun elves’ countermeasures.
He heaved a sigh of relief when the realm traveler and tree finder finally succeeded in activating the long-range unpredictable target teleportation of the beetlefolks.
Before the cultists could finish invoking their channeled mana abilities, their targets were already disappearing.
While they vanished, there was a look of peace in Terry’s eyes.
Peace, contempt, and satisfaction.
Peace for finally having the essential missing piece to understand this realm.
Contempt for the Sun’s elders, whom he had enraged enough to channel mana from their otherrealm creature openly.
Satisfaction for the shock he felt from many sun elves when the cultists’ mana and appearance were revealed.
When they arrived in what looked to be a desert valley. Terry’s senses informed him about the nearby mana signatures and told him they were somewhere at the outskirts of the Deadlands,
Terry immediately used the location sharing device they had exchanged with Mia. They required the dimensional mage to get them out of whatever location they had ended up in and to help gather everyone as fast as possible.
The beetlefolks’ long-range teleportation ability was powerful, but the unpredictable destination was a huge drawback. Terry suspected it wasn’t entirely unpredictable. He himself had his theories for the interaction between the void-touching teleportation and the veil, but even if there was a system to it, predicting the result would require knowing the state of the veil for the entire realm, which might as well be called impossible.
As fascinating as the ability was, this wasn’t the time to dwell on such inquiries.
The curse might have been created by the Ungodly Angel, but it’s currently wielded by that otherrealm creature the Sun’s secret leadership is worshipping. Even if they haven’t found a way to cleanse themselves of the Wrath that is still attacking and debilitating them, they must have found a way of controlling the infected funghouls.
There was no time to lose.
If I’m right, then the funghouls in the Deadlands will become a lot more coordinated now that the cultist presence was revealed.
***
Comments
Sesharan
And there’s the most important piece of the puzzle laid bare. The Sun has been lying— and for some members not in the know, been lied to— this whole time. They’ve been benefiting from and controlling the curse this whole time.
