I did my best to ignore the rising power coming from the summoning circle. I didn’t need to be right next to it to figure out what was happening. Somehow, the damn archon had figured out a way to actually summon a god. Or, more likely, had been given a way, since Zadkiel never struck me as a loremaster or student of the arcane. He was pretty much wholly a brute that focused on martial prowess and getting his dick wet, from everything I’d seen and heard.

You have defeated Zadkiel, the Divine Blade in single combat!

Experience reduced due to Zadkiel’s self-sacrifice.

Loot lost due to Zadkiel’s self-sacrifice.

Melinda gains 120401 XP!

You have Leveled Up!

You are now Level 37.

771000 / 703000 XP to level 38.

+1 Epic Attack Bonus

HD: 1d8+10 = 16

+1 Bluff, +1 Diplomacy, +1 Intimidate, +1 Perform (Dance), +1 Sense Motive, +1 Spellcraft, +1 Use Magic Device

You have Leveled Up!

You are now Level 38.

771000 / 741000 XP to level 39.

+1 Epic Save Bonus

HD: 1d8+10 = 16

+1 Bluff, +1 Diplomacy, +1 Intimidate, +1 Perform (Dance), +1 Sense Motive, +1 Spellcraft, +1 Use Magic Device

Warlock Abilities:

Eldritch Blast improves to 20d6 (22d6 with items).

You have Leveled Up!

You are now Level 39.

771000 / 780000 XP to level 40.

+1 Epic Attack Bonus

HD: 1d8+10 = 17

+1 Bluff, +1 Diplomacy, +1 Intimidate, +1 Perform (Dance), +1 Sense Motive, +1 Spellcraft, +1 Use Magic Device

New Feat:

Superior Initative - +8 bonus to Initiative (replaces Improved Initiative)

Warlock Abilities:

Damage Reduction improves to DR 10/Cold Iron.

Marshal Abilities:

New Minor Aura:

Watchful Eye – Add CHA to Ref Saves.

I nearly fell out of the air as the weight of three levels fell upon me at once. And the experience had been reduced? It was a shame about the loot, but I probably wouldn’t have been able to use any of it, anyways. Sure, expensive treasures were nice, but if I couldn’t use them, then they were just weights I had to carry until I could find some way to sell them, or turn them into something worthwhile.

More importantly, I felt the growing power behind me start to shift, and change. Torm was coming, and he wasn’t going to be a bright and happy god, I was sure of it. I couldn’t risk getting caught in the air, with my son. Maybe I could defend myself against a god, if it were just an avatar, but I knew I couldn’t defend myself while also protecting my boy.

Diving to the ground, I pulled upon powers I hadn’t used in what seemed like ages. An icy igloo formed around us, enough to protect Rogdun from the cold. I reached into my bag, the same magic bag I’d been using for years, now, and pulled out a bedroll. It wasn’t the same as the one I’d started adventuring with, as a young girl exiled from her tribe, but I’d still had it for a few years, now.

Melinda’s Heal Check: 1d20+9 = 17 (Success)

As I bundled Rogdun up in the bedroll, I took a moment to examine him. I was no healer, but I could, at least, tell that he didn’t have any visible wounds that would threaten his life. So, just knocked out, then. That was fine. If he wasn’t in immediate danger, then the healers could tend to him when we got back. If we got back.

I took a breath, and crawled out of the igloo. As I rose to my feet, I saw that, back the way I’d come, there was a pillar of light ascending all the way to the sky. No, a pillar of golden flame, the likes of which I’d never seen before. All across the frozen tundra, the light of the flames were reflected, turning the entire icy plane to holy fire for the moment. A god was coming to this plane, physically coming here, and the world seemed to hold its breath, while I just stood there, with my black blade in hand.

A crack of displaced air and a flash of light pulled my attention from the scene in the distance. A flurry of movement caught my eye, and I only just kept myself from raising my blade on reflex once I saw who it was. Siora crashed into me, and I just barely managed to not get tackle-hugged to the ground.

“You idiot! You stupid, featherbrained idiot! HOW IN THE NINE HELLS AND THE INFINITE ABYSS COULD YOU GO AND DO SOMETHING SO STUPID? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW WORRIED WE WERE?”

I stroked Siora’s hair to try and calm her down. Looking over her shoulder, I saw Vestele, Fartooth, and Sanvi standing there, smirking slightly. A raised eyebrow got Sanvi to smile, and say, “I had a scroll of Greater Teleport that I’d commissioned one of the mages in Trenia to scribe, before we left on the journey. My divinations suggested that it would come in handy, and so it did.”

“I assume that you just homed in on what is going on over there?” I asked, jerking my head towards the golden light.

“Yes, Mistress. That light was clearly visible in Trenia, even though this place is well past the horizon. I would not be surprised if the light is not seen, or at least felt, to the furthest ends of the continent. A god descending in their true form and full power, rather than just an avatar, is not something that is easily missed.”

“But it shouldn’t be possible,” Vestele scowled. “There are rules in place, rules that even the gods must follow. A god coming to the material plane like this, in their true form? That is not something that they should be able to do. Going to different outer, upper, or lower planes, or those nebulous planes that connect all others together? That is possible, though few leave their seat of power, unless it is to strike at a rival. But coming to the material plane? No, absolutely not.”

“What happened with my father, Mistress? I assume that he was waiting for you, here?”

“Yes, he was,” I nodded. “We fought, and he was far more skilled with a blade than I was. Even with the mere couple hits that landed, he came close to killing me. Closer than I’ve been in years. Speaking of which, Vestele? Do you think you could cast a Restoration spell on me? His weapon was… unkind enough to leave a negative level when it struck me.”

“Of course, Mel,” she said, pulling an oaken rod adorned with the symbol of her demon goddess from her bag. With a touch of the rod, I felt the sickly weakness fall from me, along with all my fatigue. As she slipped the rod back in her pack, she grinned. “I have a staff that will help with any more, but that rod allows me to use the spell for free, once a day.”

“Thank you, Vestele,” I said with a smile, before turning back to the group. I was just going to ignore the way Siora was pressing her face against my chest, nuzzling it, at least for the moment. “Anyway, I managed to curse him, just barely, and rob him of his sight. That turned the fight around, especially when a stroke of ill fortune pulled his blade from his hands. Even so, he used some strange magics I had not seen before, to augment his attacks.”

Sanvi shook her head. “Those weren’t magic, at least, not in the normal sense. They were part of his martial skill made manifest, as part of his abilities as a ‘crusader’, which is an esoteric martial discipline. I do not think it is much known in this world. At the very least, Zadkiel learned that style of combat while in another world. However, he does not like to reveal those abilities unless he is truly pressed, saving them as a trump card.”

“Well, whatever they were, I was on death’s door when I managed to turn things around. But I didn’t get a chance to finish him. Instead, he said some incantation, and started the show you see now.”

“The final sacrifice was himself, then? I wished worse upon him, but that will have to do.”

“Sacrifice?” Siora asked, pulling her face out of my chest. “Did you know something about this?”

“Oh, my father didn’t think I knew, or didn’t care. Either way, I was bound by harsher enchantments than what his cursed items to keep from speaking of it until now. But Torm put his mark upon us all, before he left. Ostensibly to keep track of us, but I was probably the only one distrustful enough to actually analyze the mark. It was not just a tracker, but a conduit.”

“A conduit for what?” I asked, starting to get concerned.

“For a soul. Specifically, the soul of a celestial being sworn into Torm’s service. When I cast aside my oaths and fell, the mark burned its way off of me, along with my father’s ‘trinkets’. But the others would all have been marked, as well.”

“And the souls were channeled into this ritual, weren’t they?”

“Yes, it counts as a willing sacrifice, rather than an act of evil, since the marked individuals all consented to the mark. Of course, most of them did not even know the mark’s purpose, but it is hardly Torm’s fault if they didn’t ask questions, right?”

“Ah, that’s the kind of twisted logic you use when you’re trying too hard to rationalize something,” I nodded. I’d seen plenty of that in my time. “Probably had a ‘for the greater good’ speech, too?”

“Yes, well, I never said this part of the plan had any originality to it. At any rate, each soul sacrificed in this way before the final summoning allows Torm to come through with another sliver of his divine power, equivalent to one divine rank. Ten beings were marked like this, and if all ten had been sacrificed, then he actually would have had a temporary boost in power, rising to rank 10, at least for a time.”

“So, there were ten marks. Yours burned away, and my new ring is a trapped soul, so she couldn’t have ended up sacrificed. I assume seven of the remaining were Zadkiel and his other wives, but who was the last?”

“The half-celestial dragon, Kulrys. Torm marked him, just in case. It wouldn’t do for one or two sacrifices to go awry, and leave him at less than his full power, after all. Of course, I doubt Kulrys or Zadkiel ever expected you to overcome them. They were old, and powerful beings, who were not simple foes to fight. Yet, in both cases, they were brought down not by martial prowess, but by underestimating a mortal spellcaster and their magics.”

“And even so, their deaths served their master’s ends,” I grumbled.

“Well, the time for grumbling about things has passed,” chirped Fartooth. “Because, in case you didn’t notice, the light show is done. And even I can feel the power of the being heading our way.”

I blinked, and then realized he was right. Turning back towards the ritual site, the golden fire had, indeed, stopped. And I could feel the wrath of an angry god crashing down towards us. There was no chance we would be able to talk our way out of this. Torm was here, and he was here for blood.

I took a breath, and settled into a fighting stance, blade at the ready. However, there was just one more thing I needed to do, before we got to the ‘main event’. I had made a contract, and while I was doing my part to fulfill it, I had to make sure that the other side didn’t forget their part. I took another breath.

“INDSAMLING! NOW IS THE TIME TO FULFILL YOUR BARGAIN! I CALL TO YOU NOW TO JOIN ME IN MY FIGHT!”

Another power, lesser than that of the god’s, but still greater than my own, descended next to me. I turned, and saw Indsamling standing there, a scimitar in either hand, and a cocky expression on his face. No doubt, he was eager to accomplish this task, so that he could remind me of my debt to him, since it was still too soon to know whether our liaison bore fruit or not.

“Well, now. I did not think it to be so soon that you called on me. And Torm is here, in all his power? I guess I will have to get serious.”