Mage Tank

“Oh, is this a riddle?” asked Etja. “I’m not very good with riddles.”

“It is not a riddle,” said the Icon.

I waited for the Icon to keep talking, but it didn’t say anything else.

“Hi,” I said. “I’m Arlo, and from left to right–your left to right–this is Shog, Varrin, Xim, Etja, and Grotto.” I couldn’t find Nuralie as I gave introductions.

“And the Guelon hiding behind Chamber B?” asked the Icon. Nuralie poked her head out from behind one of the spheres.

“I am Nuralie,” she said. The Icon’s mouth curled up into something akin to a smile.

“Fortune’s Folly,” it said. “You are the first to appear before me this generation. So early in the phase as well, it is impressive. Congratulations.”

“That’s awfully nice of you to say,” I replied. “That was an interesting rhyme earlier. At first, I thought you were one of those magical creatures that only spoke in rhyme.”

“No, no,” the Icon said with a long sigh. “I was told that I must say that verbatim. Personally, I think it’s silly. Plain language is superior.”

“I see. It sure was ominous, though. Are you able to explain things a bit further?”

“Of course. I expected that I’d need to.” The Icon waved a paw at the axe floating between the two spherical chambers. “If you would, please identify this item.”

I did as the Icon suggested.

Axe of Soul Splitting

It’s very sharp.

Requirements: Escalated Delver Candidate, Chamber of Conviction

Effects:

When struck by this axe, the target’s soul is cleaved in two, and each half can act independently of the other. After 1 minute the soul expires, causing the target to perish.

“Escalated Delver Candidate,” I read aloud. “What’s that?” I had an idea of what it meant, but this seemed like a good opportunity to fish for more concrete information.

“You are,” said the Icon. It watched me closely, and I raised my eyebrows at the non-response. Its mouth curled into another grin. “It is a Delver that has transcended the limits of power supplied by the Delves, in the process of proving their merit by climbing for greater summits than those with paths cleared for them.”

“And the Chamber of Conviction. I assume that’s where we are?”

“You assume correctly.”

“And what are we expected to do with this axe?”

“Before you are twin chambers. A single soul must be divided and then each half must enter a different chamber simultaneously. Once this has been done, you will be granted permission to activate System Core Two.”

“And the axe kills whoever is split?”

“That is what it says, yes.”

“What is meant by we decide ‘which ones of us shall live, and which one of us shall die?’”

“You must choose whose soul to split.”

Nuralie stepped out from behind the sphere, studying the axe.

“Must it be one of us?” she asked.

“It must be someone in this chamber,” the Icon answered.

“You are someone in this chamber,” said Nuralie.

“This is true.”

“Then we could split your soul.” Pause. “Not one of our own.”

“If that is your wish.”

“What’s the catch?” I asked.

The Icon’s grin grew wider. It waved its paw again, and 6 items appeared in the air before it. They didn’t emit any sort of mana signature, and a quick look with my Sight told me that these were not true items, merely projections.

“If I am chosen to fall beneath the axe, you will receive no reward other than progression through the Delve. If I am spared, then each survivor will receive an item custom-made for your build.”

The Icon flicked its paw and a cuirass floated forward. While illusory, I could still identify the item it represented.

Demon Bone Cuirass of the Descent

Requirements: Esquire Arlo Xor’Drel, Escalated Delver

Effects:

1) Physical DR +40

2) Fire DR +10

3) +100 Health Regeneration

4) When you are hit by a hostile spell, you absorb 10% of the mana spent on that spell.

5) Immutable

I rubbed my eyes and made sure I was reading the description properly. That was a lot of Physical damage reduction, 4 times more than my current cuirass. Fire was a type of Physical damage, so it reduced that even further. My ring would also double the health regen, giving me an extra 200 total. I would lose a small amount of poison resistance, but absorbing mana from enemy spells was more useful to me anyway.

The chest armor was also Immutable, an effect I’d only ever discovered on my boa and vest. It meant I’d never need to repair the item and, while it wouldn’t outright stop a weapon from penetrating it, the armor would never end up with gaping holes like my current cuirass after Roach went to town. We’d spent long enough working our way through the hive that my Verdantum Cuirass of the Redoubt was back in pristine condition, but if I’d had to fight again while it was in tatters, it would have provided a lot less protection.

The Icon waved and a hooded cloak floated to Nuralie.

Demon Skin Cloak of the Descent

Requirements: Nuralie Vyxmeldo’a, Escalated Delver

Effects:

1) Fire DR +10

2) Techniques that require a charge time are treated as though they have been charged for an additional 6 seconds.

3) While undetected, you are always considered to be aiming.

4) When you are hit by a hostile spell, you absorb 10% of the mana spent on that spell.

5) Immutable

The charge buff would mean Nuralie’s Hunger Shot could immediately fire 2 attacks, with no charge time needed at all. Nuralie also had some open skill slots, so she could focus her remaining skills on charge time to take full advantage of the ability. It only worked on techniques–active skills that took stamina–but it was still a huge buff. Additionally, Nuralie got various bonuses to attack and damage while aiming, but it took time to set up. Ultimately, this would significantly increase Nuralie’s attack speed.

Given the similarity of prefixes, it looked like the Fire damage reduction and mana absorption were part of the “Demon” class of materials. It would be nice to know whether we could find some demons to farm this stuff, or if it were more of a metaphorical name.

A wand began floating toward Etja, but she held up a hand.

“No thanks,” she said. “I don’t want to see something I’m not going to take anyway.”

I glanced at her and rubbed my beard.

“You’re right,” I said. “There’s no way we’re going to kill a member of the party. There isn’t much reason to even identify these.”

“Truly?” said the Icon, then looked to Shog. “A normal summon cannot wield the axe, but you are different. How long until you can walk these lands under your own power, without the need to be bound to your summoner? Would you forfeit a prize such as this out of sentiment for those you will soon leave behind?”

A crown appeared, its palisades jagged and covered in a shifting blue shimmer.

Demon Ivory Crown of the Descent

Requirements: Shog’tuatha, Hidden Delver

Effects:

1) Fire DR +10

2) You are no longer weak to Holy damage.

3) Each time you deal damage with an attack, the damaged entity takes additional Psychic damage equal to your Spiritual Magic skill level. If the Psychic damage dealt this way is higher than the target’s WIS, they become vulnerable to Psychic damage for 1 minute.

4) When you are hit by a hostile spell, you absorb 10% of the mana spent on that spell.

5) Immutable

I was curious about the crown’s second effect since I hadn’t known Shog was weak to Holy, unless it was a useless affix. Given that the items were ‘custom made’, I doubted that was the case. The third effect would add some nice damage diversity to the c’thon, although I knew he had at least one way to deal Psychic damage already with his spectral tendril. He’d focused on swords the last few times I’d seen him fight, so I wasn’t sure how significant such a bonus might be overall.

I had no idea what a “Hidden Delver” was, but I assumed we’d find out sooner or later, assuming Shog didn’t betray us.

Every cell of my being wanted to trust Shog. He’d never done wrong by us, but I realized being a summon placed some limitations on what he could do. It was possible he harbored some hidden ill will. Or maybe he would be happy to be free of my control and let loose on Arzia, able to munch on mana-rich Delvers to his heart’s content. It was possible but I didn’t believe it to be true. While Shog made Nuralie’s Evil Sense tingle, I’d been inside the c’thon’s head. Although he’d never done so, he might have tried to exploit us when he first crawled out of my summoning portal back in The Cage, but we’d been through a lot together since that time. I had faith in Shog.

Nuralie, Grotto, and Xim didn’t look like they shared that faith. Varrin stood with arms crossed over his chest, staring down the Icon with a blank expression. Etja smiled as she watched Shog with curiosity, looking unconcerned.

Shog peered into the illusory crown.

“A c’thon holds no sentiment,” he said. “The weak have value only as food, but those who prove their strength are worthy of recognition. The strong who fight beside a c’thon are as good as brood siblings.” He whipped a tentacle through the illusion, scattering it into wisps of mana. “No one can deny the strength of those before you, and they have fought beside me, never once questioning my convictions.”

[I do not believe that is entirely accurate…]

“A true c’thon will not debase itself to fratricide, no matter the reward. Any who do will be treated as cattle.”

Alright, maybe we could work a little on helping the c’thon appreciate the intrinsic value of life, but overall I was proud of my bro Shog. His speech even made me a bit misty-eyed.

“Then none of you will take up my offer?”

The Icon looked from Varrin to Xim but ignored Grotto completely. The dog-lion-crocodile-bird had only conjured 6 items, so my familiar was excluded. It could have been because he was considered an extension of my power, or maybe the Icon was prejudiced against Delve Cores. I was offended on the little octo’s behalf.

Varrin uncrossed his arms and walked forward with a steady stride. He stopped before the axe and looked it over, then glanced up at the Icon.

“If we were to use this axe on you,” he said, “would you simply accept this?”

The Icon tilted its head.

“This is my role, should that be your choice.”

“Do you wish to die?” the big guy asked.

The Icon drew a breath, hesitated, then spoke.

“I do not seek death, no. But if it is required to turn the wheel of the Great Work, I will hold no grudge.”

Varrin grunted. He took three steps back and placed a hand along the hilt of Kazandak.

“Then you will live.”

An ethereal hand formed from Varrin’s soul and drew a spectral copy of Kazandak. It was the same move he’d used while we ran through the Littan camp. Varrin had drawn an ethereal version of Kazandak that followed behind the spectral copy, using the weapon to disable enemy Delvers by striking their souls, rather than cutting them down. This time, the motion was mirrored by Varrin as he drew the true Kazandak.

Varrin’s soul flared and roiled as his blade occupied the same space as the spectral version. Power rolled across the room, kicking up dust in a swirling gale of pressure that poured off the warrior. Ghostly hands formed from spiritual essence raised the spectral Kazandak high over Varrin’s head, but the big guy did not copy the move. Instead, he stepped back and drew the sword low and to his right. As his position shifted, Varrin’s soul remained behind.

Varrin’s soul stepped forward, sweeping its blade downward in a slow arc, a motion I’d seen Varrin perform countless times in training. It wasn’t an attack, but an exercise to ensure control and accuracy. Varrin stepped forward and to the side, raising his sword up in an arc converse to his soul’s motion. Then, Varrin’s soul flared back to life along his body while the copy remained. The swordsmen moved through gentle motions, their strikes mirrored, but opposite. As they transitioned from one form to the next, they slowly separated, until a version of Varrin stood before him, composed entirely from spiritual essence.

I gaped at the display, unable to wrap my head around what was happening. Both souls belonged to Varrin, but neither soul was truly Varrin. The physical copy of the warrior was enshrouded in a halo that was raw and pure, as though Varrin existed in a space fully separated from reality and its influence. The soul ‘copy’ was immersed in the world and its history, like it had taken everything the physical Varrin had separated out from himself to craft its own body. Both souls belonged to the big guy, it was unmistakable, but neither was complete without the other.

Then, as the warriors turned, I noticed something peculiar.

The ethereal version of Varrin had features that were slightly distinct, as though it were an identical twin with slight variations that set them apart. Those features looked familiar, however, and I was struck by the memory of Varrin’s father, Thundralke Ealdric Ravvenblaq the Third. Still, it wasn’t his father’s ghost, but that part of Varrin that was made from his father’s influence. As I watched, the features shifted further, morphing nearly imperceptibly to someone new, although this one I didn’t recognize.

Finally, Varrin spoke.

“A single soul must be divided,” he said. “You never said it must be done with the axe.”

Then, Varrin and his soul clone walked in opposite directions, each entering one of the spherical chambers. Runes lit up along their surfaces, and lines of mana shot forth along its edges and the floor, reaching out toward the wall behind the Icon. The lines met and coalesced into a doorway, and then a portal of shimmering silver light appeared.

Several seconds passed, everyone speechless, but Varrin never exited the chamber. I cast Shortcut to appear outside the chamber and found Varrin lying on the ground, motionless.

“Shit, shit, shit,” I swore and I knelt beside the big guy. His skin was cold and clammy, but when I pressed a finger to his neck I felt a pulse. I bent down and placed my ear next to his mouth, feeling the barest breath coming from him. I turned to find Xim was already behind me. She squeezed into the small space beside us and laid hands on the big guy, closing her eyes and focusing on her healing.

“He’s not hurt,” she said.

I grit my teeth and studied his soul. It trembled and shook like it was barely contained, as though at any moment it might flee from Varrin. I turned to look at the opposite chamber, seeing the last vestiges of his soul clone evaporating into mist. It meandered through the air, motes of dancing light, and began to creep back toward their host.

We waited, uncertain what to do, but as the motes slowly rejoined with Varrin, his soul began to stabilize.

“An unexpected development,” said the Icon. I looked up, seeing its snout inches away as it peered into the sphere. “I have heard of an evolving spirit, but I have never witnessed it myself. What a strange thing to behold.”

“We’ve passed your test, then?” I said, trying to hide my bitterness. Even after most of the clone’s essence had sunk back into Varrin, his soul shuddered like a wounded animal.

“Yes, I believe you have,” said the Icon. It sat back on its haunches, pulling its snout out of my personal bubble. “And in a way I have not seen before. This is… quite wonderful.”

“Yeah, he saved your life,” I said.

“Or he saved one of yours. I often find that someone changes their mind in the end.”

“No chance,” said Xim.

“We really like each other!” Etja added.

The Icon made a grunting noise that I took for laughter.

“Very well. Then you have completed the challenge, and may pass through the portal.”

I kept an eye on Varrin, trying to figure out if moving him would be safe. It wasn’t a physical injury, so maybe it wouldn’t matter. Then again, did we have to leave right away?

“Ahem,” said Nuralie, walking up to the Icon. “You said that if you are spared”–pause–“then we get the loot.”

The Icon blinked at Nuralie and its rhythmic grunts grew louder until it was practically howling with bestial laughter.

“So I did!” it shouted.

The Icon waved a paw and the items–true items this time, not illusions–appeared before us. I wasn’t going to look a winged dog lion’s gift in the mouth… or something like that, so I quickly stashed the cuirass in my inventory. The others did the same, but Etja turned the wand over in her hand, having never examined it. She nodded and stowed it away, then bent down close to Xim and me.

“Will he be alright?” she asked.

I increased the sensitivity of Soul-Sight, trying to glean more from Varrin’s strange state of spiritual disruption, but couldn’t tell much more than I already knew.

“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “This… everything he just did is beyond me.”