Chapter 443 - Far Future Ch. 153 – I’ll Take That, and That, and That... (1/2)

Since there was no arm or body behind me swinging a sword with TK, no Strength bonus, just damage dice. Totally damage dice possible was d6/Caster Level, so 12d6. Even if I could manipulate thirty swords, the total amount of force was spread out among all of them, so I couldn't do more damage than that, spread out between all of them. Likewise, this was wielding something with TK, not a hand, so, oh, my swordmastery bonuses didn't apply. TK fighting was TK fighting, had nothing to do with weapon technique.

Magic rules are magic rules. I didn't have to agree with them, I just had to acknowledge them.

However, when you have unlimited use of telekinesis, which the Ring gave me, you can get in a LOT of practice time.

For now, I was being very subtle with the effects. TK has the wonderful effect of being mostly invisible, unless you can actually see or sense psionic energy flows/magic, etc. Pushing attacks up or down, tripping people, fetching things from here and there, grabbing things at a distance. If I started tossing people around, that would be a bit obvious... if the glowing Ring on my finger wasn't a dead giveaway.

Basically, I started using it to rifle through all the dead drow sprawled over the ground, removing the equivalent of money and weapons, any techno-toys that looked interesting, and throwing them on the Disks behind me and the girls. Also, all those wandering, riderless hoverboards were worth money, no reason not to reach out and grab those, too, right?

The girls had been watching me playing with pebbles for some time, and they were all naturally very, very eager to get their own Rings. I had to get mine Empowered before I could make one for them, of course, and there was a lot of nexals, precious metals, or gemstones they had to gather up to get the thing fully done. Happily, Me Smart Artificer, and I made the Empowerment Pattern on a graduated scale, so they could start small and practice with fewer objects and low weight, gradually building up the Valence Level and Caster Level of the effect until it reached full strength.

Our uninhibited looting as we walked across the fight zone garnered unwelcoming gazes. Naturally, being black of hair and landbound, we were below the lowest of the low, fit only for being killed or used by our racial masters, and so some enterprising souls decided to deal with us and how we were looting their spoils right in front of them.

They had an annoying time trying to hit us, as somehow we were shifting positions without changing our strides or footing. Oh, and we were shooting back, too.

They never really got close enough to do anything, and given the weapons they were using, we weren't really in any danger as long as we didn't just stand there waiting to be cut down by a monomolecular edged reaper-glaive, or somesuch. Tats making Hands as Weapons let us finger-flick Shards from our Sword Foci, in addition to popping them with our Autobows, and so anyone that took a shot or run at us was sniped out of the air, stripped of goodies, and their boards joined our growing collections.

Eventually they wised up, and the airspace for a hundred yards around us was vacated while they returned to their regularly scheduled butchering of one another, and everyone was happy. Being the polite battlefield looters that we were, we enthusiastically cheered some of the gorier hits, unashamedly looted the dead, and if the killers were aced in turn, we cheered the new champions with unabashed fickleness.

The walls and gate to the outer town were not that high, more a formality than anything, as the cannons and point defenses mounted on the walls could probably take care of any natural or unnatural attackers in less than horde numbers rather effectively, and Shadow creatures were like beacons of power to the drow, heartily encouraged to come and attack so they could be captured and ritually sacrificed to stave off the Warp Gods.

Since Gloom creatures weren't totally dumb, they didn't come near the walls now, and generally tried to avoid the pale-haired, dark-skinned drow, and munch on the not-so-dark-skinned, brighter-haired pointy-eared gits outside them, instead.

The guards were about what you'd expect of such a fine, upstanding location. Since we didn't fly in, we were obviously rubes, and poor, and we'd just shot a few dozen gutter-boarders out of the sky without blinking an eye, and were toting purloined belongings behind us. It was a great time to collect bribes and look for an excuse to arrest us and then sell us for more money.

”Halt!” one of the drow said, a hatchet-faced idiot with jet-black skin, stepping forwards with what was probably supposed to be an imposing manner, as the chakram-spitters of his friends cycled up threateningly. ”What is your business in Gloomheart?”

Keva sold it so well, blinking at him. ”Mom! A guard actually dared to speak to us?” she protested in affront.

I waved my fingers, there was a chok, and the guard blinked, now possessing a third eye in his forehead. His astounded fellows watched him fall as I replied, ”Now, dear, remember they are just gate guards. They are stupid and need to be taught lessons frequently. You don't think they got posted here for their intelligence, do you?”

None of us even broke stride. The other guards got out of the way quickly. Jensa sort of looked past them with her blue eyes, and sighed almost perfunctorily, ”Matron Glayia merchant caravan,” she muttered under her breath to the closest soldier, sniffing as she did so, and we all continued on.

They didn't dare shoot us in the back, and the poor sot who'd got in our way was just stripped and sent off to become hound-chow. We were dutifully logged as a merchant caravan with battle spoils entering town, and life went in in Drow-ville.

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