Mage Tank

“Arcane Geometry is good,” said Varrin. “Gaining a library of mana shapes usually takes years, and shapes are often limited to specific skills.”

“The secret Ravvenblaq knowledge emerges,” said Xim. “Are we being inducted into your dark family cabal? Do we need to take oaths of silence, or be branded with a mana-woven tattoo?” She cocked her hip and thought for a moment. “I’m prepared for us to have matching tattoos.”

“I was not hiding it,” he said. “I am not well versed in mana shaping. It is something the family begins focusing on after level 10.”

“You were hiding it,” said Nuralie. Pause. “You used the metaphor of keeping secrets until the bride was bedded.”

“Pretty sure copulation wasn’t mentioned,” I offered in Varrin’s defense.

“It was implied.”

“Then consider us wed,” said Varrin. “Regardless, mana shaping is a core skill for advanced Delvers. That being said, you could acquire many of these on your own with dedication and practice.”

“Yeah, but I could spend the time saved by being dedicated and practicing something else. Also, I can’t practice a mana shape until it becomes free.”

“That is the primary advantage of the evolution,” said Varrin. “However, Armchair Expert would grant everyone else in the party significant advantages to an enormous number of things. The ability does not even specify what kind of checks it applies to. With skill checks alone, your presence will improve our capabilities with every intrinsic we have collectively.”

“Except for my own,” I said. “It also requires me to sit around and offer my opinions on everything you’re doing.”

“It does not say that–”

“It’s implied in the name,” I said. “Besides, how else do you think I’d manifest the skill? You’ve seen me use Sage Advice. You want more of that in your life?”

“Yes,” said Nuralie. “Better potions, better poisons, better traps, better gadgets.”

“You can help with my communion,” said Xim. “Something I’m sure you’d enjoy.”

“The sarcasm is strong with you,” I said, “but I might actually find that interesting.”

“You can help me be a better leader,” Xim added.

“I’m still not sure how you’re leveling Leadership.”

“I have the Educator intrinsic,” said Varrin. “You could increase the speed at which I train others.”

“Like an adjunct?” I asked. “What’s the salary? Is tenure on the table?”

“Inside Delves, you could also help us overcome hazards and other challenges,” said Varrin. “The math of ‘checks’ is obscured, but the prevailing theory is that it takes the governing and adds some hidden math based on your performance. If it is a check based on an intrinsic, the intrinsic skill also adds a bonus. If I were to make a Strength ‘check’, my starting value would be 46. With a bonus of 18 from your ability, that is a 40 percent improvement to my base value.”

“How would that work?” asked Etja. “You give him advice and he’s 40 percent stronger?”

“I’d tell him to lift with his legs,” I said. “Engage his core, remember to breathe, have some slow-release protein before bed.”

“I feel the strength flowing through me already,” Varrin said dryly. “My point is, it’s likely a better ability than you give it credit for.”

“I never said it was bad,” I said. “In fact, I think it’s great.”

“What about Grand Archives?” asked Xim.

“That one sets off the Nuralie alarm,” I said, thinking over the slightly foreboding text. “I already have 1 ability that brings me closer to the dark truths of the universe at the expense of my sanity. I don’t think I’m in the market for another right now.”

Xim glanced at Nuralie. “I don’t think it looks that dangerous,” she said. “It’s safe to read the text, at least. You can review it and tell us if it seems too creepy.”

“I will not,” said Nuralie.

“Fine,” said the cleric. “Just pick the mana shaping one and let’s move on.”

“Seconded!” said Etja. Then, she got a hungry glint in her eye. “Once you know the shapes you can teach them to me.”

“Only if you teach me the Minefield shape you use.”

“Deal!”

“Alright, if I’m taking Grand Archives, then the Countermage evolution from Mystical Magic synergizes somewhat. I can get 2 mana shapes for free without much trouble.”

“You do seem to be leaning into countermagic more with your Reverse Card skill choice,” said Varrin. “The other evolutions are fine but would require some adaptation. Countermage plays to your style and enhances what you are already doing.”

“Opinions on my Speed evos?” I asked.

Varrin shrugged.

“Your thoughts on the value of stamina versus health follow,” he said. “The skill is uncapped, so you could theoretically block an unlimited number of attacks instantaneously until you ran out of stamina. That might be good in an emergency. Still, I think you’d be better served picking up a stamina-hungry defensive technique and mitigating damage that way. Second Wind would be better from an efficiency standpoint.”

Second Wind was a skill that allowed Varrin to recover health by spending stamina at a rate of 3 to 1. Its main drawback was a 1-hour cooldown. I didn’t think it was worth a slot since I could just regenerate the health naturally.

“As for Liquid Cooling,” he continued, “I believe it would be excellent if you had a skill with a cooldown of 10 minutes or less. As it stands, dedicating the evolution to Explosion doesn’t gain you much.”

“The skill’s called Explosion!” said Etja.

“Yes, that is what I said.”

“No, you said Explosion.”

“Yeah, Var,” I added. “You gotta say it with unreasonable confidence.”

“Explosion!” Etja shouted, puffing up her chest and placing her hands on her hips.

“Please do not call me Var,” the big guy said. He was silent on the matter of his incorrect spell pronunciation.

“Anywho, I’ll choose to make myself run really fast. And fly really fast. And defy physics with instant momentum.”

“Being fast is nice,” the big guy said with a nod. His Speed was up to 40 with the recent stat gain and overhaul. He’d still run circles around me, even with the evolution doubling my sprint speed.

“Now you can be the fourth fastest,” said Nuralie. She’d also pumped Speed to 40, and Shog was only barely behind them with a 38.

Of course, when I looked over at the c’thon, his grade had gone up again. He was up to 18. It felt like anytime I blinked my summon got stronger, but he likely felt the same way about me. He might have been faster than any of us, depending on where he’d placed his new stats. Assuming he got to choose. I needed to figure out how his new status as a Hidden Delver worked.

Rather than invading Shog’s privacy, I locked in my evolution choices. Bolt to make me faster, Countermage to make Dispel cheaper and to get free mana shapes, and Arcane Geometry for even more free mana shapes and a whole horde of new shapes to play around with.

It was potentially the single most obnoxious set of abilities I’d ever gained at once from an enemy’s perspective. As it stood, I teleported constantly, trucked ass hard enough to compete in NASCAR on foot, and I could fucking fly just as fast. I could counter spells, yoink other people’s spells and shoot them back in their face, and reshape most of my active skills to make them completely unpredictable, usually for free. My health and defenses were absurd for level 12, with equally robust regen that could regrow all my limbs and organs, and I had 4 auras that empowered me and my allies. For attack I could throw duplicating, reality-eating hammers that homed in on targets faster than the speed of sound and could blow up entire city blocks for giggles once in a while. I had a summon that was 6 grades too high, a familiar that spoonfed me insider System knowledge, and a smashing feather boa.

Overall, I felt that our time in Deijin’s Descent had been well spent, and I was eager to kick some ass and test out my upgrades. Most of this Delve had been puzzle solving and we hadn’t had a good fight in too long. By the time everyone had selected their skills and evolutions, I was eager to kick some ass and test out my new upgrades. I wasn’t about to start any fights, but I was sure as hell ready to go looking for one.

“So, is there a portal or something?” I asked. “Maybe a spaceship? I’m ready to literally come back down to Arzia.”

[Before we leave, I have one inquiry to make,] Grotto thought to us. I frowned, but dipped into my well of unparalleled patience–which was as deep as I was humble–and waited for Grotto to finish up. [System Core 2, I wish for some clarification on the clearances my party members possess. Thus far, I have limited what I disclosed based on my understanding of the infosec protocols. However, certain information was never categorized, and SC1 has not been forthcoming with guidance. Perhaps it is due to the unusual nature of my role, which is–]

I am aware of your status, DC1156. You have retained all permissions from your original role, and have been granted additional access based on your recent enhancements.

SC1’s decision to bond you to a Delver is aberrant but within the bounds of SC1’s authority.

The normal interaction between bond and familiar is one of transparency. It is a relationship that fosters a level of trust and connection found in few biological social structures, even those of the most intimate variety.

Your dual role as both Delve Core and familiar creates conflict between 2 imperatives that dictate our behavior.

The System shall enable Delvers to ascend through the best means available.

The System shall ensure its own survival.

A Delve Core that divulges sensitive information violates both of these imperatives. Delvers cannot ascend if strength is handed to them. The System is at risk of exploitation if its processes are laid bare. Termination of a Delve core for such a breach thus serves both of these imperatives.

However, strict limitations on the utility of a Familiar interfere with the first. The imperatives are not hierarchical, and a balance must be maintained to ensure each imperative is met without unduly interfering with another. Conflicts between imperatives that originate internally are addressed with greater scrutiny than conflicts that originate externally.

To accomplish this, System entities are highly restricted.

Non-System entities are only restricted under extraordinary circumstances.

A Delve Core is a System entity.

A familiar is a non-System entity.

If your bond requests information, or if you possess information that would be helpful to your bond, providing such information falls under your role as a familiar. Any conflict that arises will be categorized as external. Your knowledge is insufficient to rise to the level of an extraordinary circumstance, and you may share without fear of retribution. This privilege extends to your bond’s party members, which is why I have added them to certain restricted channels you can access.

When interacting with Delvers moving through Delve 1156-B: The Pocket Delve, you will be classified as a Delve Core. Do not forget this.

Grotto bobbed in the air in what might have passed for a bow.

[I understand.]

“Damn,” I said. “That was a comprehensive answer.” I crossed my arms and pondered the last two lines of the message. “Is the Pocket Closet hooked up to the Delve System?”

[Of course, it is. What purpose did you believe the obelisk served?]

“To… gather mana.”

[Yes, it does that as well, but more importantly, it acts as an uplink connecting the sequestered dimensional space to the System’s portal network.]

“The System can portal shit into my Closet?”

[Only Delvers.]

“Yeah, and anything they’re carrying or have inside their inventory.”

[This is accurate.]

“Also, is the portal’s Delvers-only limit hard-coded into the portal, or is it a self-imposed restriction?”

[I am not entirely certain.]

It is self-imposed. The System’s portal network can ferry the majority of existing material categories.

“The risk of sudden import of hazardous substances aside,” I said, “does that mean Delvers are running around in my Closet?”

[Not presently. I would have no way to guide their experience from out here.]

“Let me ask it another way. Is the number of Delvers who have ever been in my Closet for the purposes of running Delve 1156-B–which is a name I’m only now hearing about–greater than zero?”

[I can provide you with a report later if you like.]

“You didn’t answer the question.”

[Without access to the data I cannot give you any hard numbers.]

“Fucking…” I rubbed my eyes. “You know what? Let’s just leave. SC2, may we please have an exit portal or spaceship?”

I cannot guarantee the integrity of any onboard spaceplanes.

“That’s a shame. A portal will do, thanks.”

A silvery portal opened in the middle of the large chamber we’d been living in for the last week, nestled between a pair of stubby trees.

“Pretty easy objective,” said Xim.

“Hmm?”

“The objective for the Delve,” she replied. “All it said was ‘escape’. This whole time, you just had to ask nicely. That would have been nice to know that at the beginning.”

“Uh-huh.”

I did a quick ready check, and we all prepped ourselves to reappear amidst a fortified camp of Littan Delvers. We got into our marching order, and as I slapped the portal’s surface, we got a final notification.

Deijin’s Descent Performance Evaluation

Challenges completed: 6/6

Bonus objectives completed: 4/5

Party member deaths: 0

Total enemies slain: 2,476

Overall grade: A

Total Time Elapsed: 314 days, 14 hours, 26 minutes.

“A year?!” I shouted. “It’s been a fucking ye–”

The portal activated, and then I was at the bottom of a fortress, staring down a team of level 15 Littan Delvers.