Some things made a lot more sense to Taramo after Ariwyn's explanation. He knew that there was some discrepancy in the explanation of his revival machine's issues, though the technical issues were probably not overstated much if at all. Given she had no restrictions she could have manually activated or changed the system. It was not as if Taramo was expecting to be murdered out of the blue.

  He'd been too busy with survival and other pressing issues to waste time wondering about the slight differences in Ariwyn's first explanations and demand immediate answers. Pressing issues could likely fill his life for the next century until he had enough contingencies to deal with someone of equal strength to himself. He would hardly expect the surviving archmages of his time to belay improving their skills further. His immortal mistake in that necromancer would be another problem that could still exist. Draining mana access to the body would probably kill her, though if she had any assistance she has had tens of thousands of years to learn how to bypass the prison.

  Then he noticed that the light was fading. He'd zoned out with his eyes on Ariwyn's main pot and the vines in it were curling in on themselves. The same was happening to the lights which were inadvertently dimming. Awaiting judgement and expecting it to be negative through the time that was spent. Of all people she should know of his tendency to over think in silence but stress, a very human experience, could interrupt that result.

  "That must have been hard," Taramo reached out and patted the top of the vine bundle that was trying to hide itself within the pot "but you've managed pretty well."

  The vines curled around his hand and held them in place. Body language was hard to interpret from a plant.

  "Have you thought of making a body?" Ariwyn maintained her silence as the vines coiled and caressed Taramo's hand.

  "I am making one," She responded. "there weren't enough samples for me to make one to my liking before."

  "My descendants?"

  "Yes." Ariwyn's vines gripped his forearm and leveraged the pot into his hand, "The patriarch and his son have gathered. We should meet with them. They speak of war."

  Taramo finished off his tea with his left hand, slightly more difficult since he was right handed, then left through the doors.

  ---

  The guards had remained waiting outside the door. They were a bit surprised when Taramo left holding their goddess but they fell in behind him while he walked the two dozen paces from the one door to the gate.

  Due to the damage that the building had taken and the temporary housing the most convenient places to meet were unavailable. The Patriarch and son Gerolf were waiting in the atrium of the once Hotel and Ariwyn had the temple to herself offered as a space. The captain of the guard and the Pitarav priest were also in attendance, though the latter was basking in the presence of his goddess so was less attentive to the meeting.

  ---

  "They sent some fodder after us in the early night." Gerolf reported, "but the attack later barely missed us."

  Ariwyn interjected "A consequence of removing the system restrictions. The Adras priest doesn't like interference." This was accepted by the others.

  "So you are healthy again. That is good." The Patriarch kept a neutral expression. "We will need to coordinate a distraction while Nikalia and the new arrivals enter the city. There's not enough guards for us to do that while keeping all my civilians safe. I hope you can help us with that?"

  "Yes. I've sent some of my wisps to make contact with Niki and they will coordinate the best time to move."

  "So shall we be able to finally deal with the Silver Chain once and for all?" The Captain of the Guard had the look of someone who would be mounting an expedition to drive those mercenaries out if he was given an order tangentially related to the subject and had half the troops needed.

  "Yes, but it would be easier if the Priest left them. He's disallowed from involving himself in politics without a direct attack on himself. The Silver Chain is banking on this to keep us from a direct assault." Gerolf explained in a manner suggesting this conversation had occurred multiple times in the past.

  "He discovered my presence here was not rumor. The priest has no love for myself so he wouldn't leave them just to spite me." Ariwyn had a trio of vines placing rocks overtop of the map of the city they were surrounding. "We will need to tempt the mercenaries to leave and ambush them. Their patrols limit themselves to these intersections. If we could catch a few of the scouts that would drive them to send larger groups. As long as it becomes to costly to keep the city they will eventually have to leave."

  "And if they abandon the city then we can fortify it enough to keep them out" The Patriarch included. "I've received no further assurance from the crown but we should be able to get more help from the steppe tribes. There's two in the south that winter in old fortifications from Tarnox's heights. One of their princes is a favoured trading partner and would prefer us to the Chain."

  "If they can be reached. I wouldn't plan on it taking until winter to deal with-" Ariwyn froze "There's an attack on one of my vines. A Blood Wyrm."

  ---

  Dragons were creatures that incited awe, terror, and envy in most things that could imagine using the power they have. As such many people make use of their forms, or their lesser cousins, when forming creatures to do their bidding. What is better than having a dragon serve you? The only problem with that was that giving it the form gives it a more draconic sense of self if allowed to live long enough. If you keep a draconic form it is best to feed its pride, lest it feed on you. Some dragons had magical creations in their lineage and others claimed all dragons were descended from such, the latter tending to end up as dragonfood.

  Wyrms are a subspecies of dragon that spends most of its life in caverns or dense woods where agility is the greatest priority. They are particularly dangerous for city scapes since they can hide almost everywhere.

  Blood Wyrms are better than wyrms made with other energy in one particularly morbid way. The remnants of the people who were turned into the blood magic partly counteract the draconic personality, making both sides counteract each other to a degree so there was a more pliant servant overall.

  The Captain and Gerolf had run off to warn their soldiers and prepare them for the probable fight for their lives. The Patriarch watched Ariwyn unearth the hand, weave some mana into the thumb nail, and then rip it out.

  "A teleportation aide." Ariwyn dropped it in Taramo's lap and took two other nails out for the Patriarch. "Pass these to any group you send out. If the wyrm arrives then Taramo will be able to teleport there more easily." Teleportation is easy, surviving teleportation is hard.

  Ariwyn pointed where the wyrm was attacking, a smithy building at an intersection halfway between them and the Silver Chain's fort.

  "Should I send some peolpe to help you?" The Patriarch asked as Taramo walked to the stairs.

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  "No. If they can help they'd be better spent defending. If they can't they'll feed the wyrm. I have a helper as well." Spot, not particularly interested in the meeting, had glued himself to the ceiling and dripped in smokey drops onto the floor. When most of him arrived on the floor he would clamber back up and repeat it. He was almost all on the floor and the rest of him leapt onto Taramo's head as he passed.

  Taramo let Spot do as he liked since he was more focused on preparing his defenses. Blood creatures were able to exploit any injuries that they caused or were preexisting. The scar over and on his heart might be a problem if it figured out the injury. A small cut on a scar could easily be expanded and draining the blood would strengthen the wyrm as well.

  There was a spell, known to most bloodmages of his time. It would force blood to coagulate. A terrible way to kill someone, but also quite effective on blood mages since blood trying to become tissue was less effective as blood. Include enough healing and it would cease to be useful at all, though only an elementary blood mage would fall for that sort of trick.

  Taramo put a ward that would stop anything moving very quickly and something he could activate that would flash boil any large amount of liquid impacted by the first spell. It would make him need a second to activate it but he'd rather not boil anyone alive unnecessarily.

  ---

  He arrived within two blocks of the location when he heard burbling shrieks. Spot was laser focused in the direction the building would be. Taramo brought up a few paving stones and gave them a brief heating rune. It was carved in the stones so it would easily chip but they only had to work once. They orbited around him when they were done, runes facing outwards. If any side is touched it would activate. Not the normal method so it might catch the wyrm controller off guard. There was no sign of a mage actively casting so it was either sent on a mission or the mage was waiting to send an order.

  He prompted Spot to have a ward with a sharp cooling. If he were attacked, though the wisp would have nothing to tempt the wyrm, the cooling should slow it. Thermal shock would also be useful if he could get superheating and supercooling together.

  The shop was completely destroyed. A bubble of mana kept a small potted plant on the first floor window while the second and third floors were collapsed and burning. The vine twisted and a few pieces of coal were lifted from the pile and thrown at an alleyway. In the flash of light as they ignited a huge serpent reared back and slipped through the window of the next building.

  Spot didn't charge, though he looked like he wanted to. The orders were to stay back until the order to charge or an attack on them. the plant was a large expense on Ariwyn's part but it could be recovered in a few week's work. Devotees had kept them for long after Ariwyn was sealed and the vines themselves were hardy.

  The wyrm leapt from the roof of the building, carrying a large door as a shield. The thing was ruby red and had feet clawed with iron tips. The face was formless and had multiple tentacles that blossomed out from the anterior. From the rubble an anvil was flung. Runes to ease weight while it was carried were activated and deactivated so Ariwyn could fling it at the beast. The wyrm exploded into a mist of blood dropplets and the door was destroyed, but when the droplets hit the shield they drained mana from it. The shield was burning as well but it did not eliminate the blood before it stuck onto the shield and sapped some vital essence from it.

  Taramo sent three of the warded firestones to circle around on the other side of the conflict while the wyrm reformed, having lost at best two percent of its mass. IT flung some burning pieces of the door which had little effect on the shield before it saw the floating rock. Ariwyn drew a vine covered in pustules and sprayed acid from the flower at the tip of the vine. The wyrm recieved a good hit and screamed with the voices of a dozen men, women, and children. Their faces briefly were seen on the surface of the blood as the draconic thing reeled.

  But then it's mind, or whatever it had to bring plots to fruition, came to a conclusion and the thing sprinted away from both the plant and the floating rocks. Right towards him. He activated the stone between them and the wyrm redirected, it's cthonic maw turning towards him. Noticed.

  The flamestone burnt out after a second and a half while Taramo built a second shield and prepared a frostburn spell. Intermittent heat and cold that alternated every tenth of a second.

  The beast held back, pieces of iron that were claws floating free in the body. One was brought to the mouth and flung like a slingstone. It passed through the shield like butter and only Spot's intercession meant that Taramo didn't need to leap aside. Spot smoked and burned with a foul smell before he disgorged the claw made of wraith-iron. And the thing thought it only needed to hit him to win.

  A dozen of the cobbles were thrown at the wyrm, which made a token effort to dodge though it was unaffected by the four that actually hit it. Taramo pulled a heap of dirt that was beneath the stones and made a partial shield. It was wieldy and slower to react but it should stop another attack.

  The beast pulled back, individual tentacles moving like a bunch of heads each individually thinking the situation over. It ran away for a second before the body split in half four times. The eight wyrmlets darted off every which way with two of them staying in sight. Two of them that ran got too close to a firestone so Taramo burned them. Four stones left and at least six active. They would probably split more.

  The element of surprise lost Taramo approached Ariwyn. The two wyrms eyed him with their eyeless nubs but backed away as he approached.

  "I am lacking available power. They want this plant intact for some reason so I don't want to give it to them."

  "Should we leave."

  "No. The rest are retreating at the moment. If we leave they will be attacked in force and one of them will be lost."

  A gout of flame was sent towards the approaching pair and they backed off again. The screaming cries sounded from the rooftops and the other four were there, each having different protections set on their body. One had a vase covering it's anterior like a too large hat while another had a set of wooden blinds held against the skin. All of them had the small wraith-iron claws held ready to fling. Taramo raised the shield against them and interposed the rest of the flare stones so if they leapt they would be burned. They leapt and the pair on the ground charged.

  Spot engaged with those on the ground and Taramo fully encircled himself with the earth. He switched entirely to mana sight which showed a small thing. A mere patch of red mold that had drawn itself out of the wraith-iron claw that had somehow arranged itself in the substraight. Outside the wyrms exploded and the force blew the earth in. Large chunks of earth were stopped by the ward though the small claw sailed through. The blot of blood magic itself exploded into a dozen bits which flew like mosquitos. Ten were blasted with the heat that Taramo had available, but the heat propelled the other two closer. The heat changed to cold and one of them was frozen in place.

  The last piece, the smallest bit of mana, was insufficient to alert any of Taramo's wards, would be insufficient to do anything. Except that it landed in his eye.

  And that was enough.

  Policy on Cliff Hangers