[Archive]Prismpunk

Discussion

"Well, after thinking over it, we think we're probably going to take the first book."

"Ah, the default, of course. The basic practices that let you use magic for some utilities- a wise choice, and one that conforms to all scenarios!"

Netiatono hands you the tome.

"Now, be sure that you do not overpractice and that you make sure to obey all restrictions in the book! Magic is serious, as you know, and we wouldn't want accidents."

You nod. "Master Vie, I think we shall read this book on the Laserwalks. As for now, we must use our remaining time in this town wisely."

"Of course, of course! Where are you headed to, in such a hurry?"

"We head to the Shikahu Front with a military caravan." And at your words, you distinctly note that Netiatono stiffens-

"...Yes. Yes, I see. Well. Good luck."

Without another word, the mage rides his cloak up again, exiting the building through an upper-level window.

"Okay, so what was that?"

"...Did we insult him in some way?" Jonathan looks momentarily worried, but James simply shakes his head.

"If I had to give that attitude of his words, well..."

"Yes?"

"I'd say it was... fear."

"Fear? Of what? What did we say to render a mage thus?"

"I don't know."

------

"Alright, guys, so we have a bit of a problem here. Riding here from the town square took us barely any time at all, but on foot it's going to be at least an hour back- and that lecture already pretty much ate up one hour of our time as well. Really, we have maybe half of an hour left to spend, which definitely isn't enough to do everything we want to do."

"Well, I think we can afford to split up. Nothing's going to happen anyways, it's a big damn lawful town, nobody's going to jump us or whatever."

Steven is the first to make the suggestion. "Perhaps we should try to find that other mage, the guy from the Circle Tower. We could use some Material Magic books as well- understand both sides or whatever."

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea," Oranen yawns. "I think I'll go with you, maybe pick up a bit to eat on the way."

"We'll go buy some weapons for all of us or upgrade our weapons. Anything specific you want?"

"Nah. Just make it better, I don't really care how," says Steven, giving his sword and pistol to James. Besides Steven, Oranen nods in support, handing over his blade and gun as well, before continuing to hand over both the component bags.

"Alright. We'll see you at the Laserwalk Station, then." With that, James and Jonathan walk off, leaving Oranen and Steven heading down the road in the opposite direction.

As Oranen walked besides Steven, he kept frowning. Finally, when asked, he muttered, "...didn't go to a bar, I know what you were thinking."

"So where were you, then?"

"..."

"Nevermind. Where do you think this Material Mage is?"

Looking up with a surly frown, Oranen shrugs. "I have absolutely no dark-damned idea."

------

"Well, this street's just starting to get lively, apparently."

The vendors of the day had been replaced with those of the night, hawking curiosities and trinkets, baubles and gems, the kind of thing that tourists bought- but not so useful for practical usage. You note that some weapons stores had already begun closing down with alarm.

"We better hurry. How about this, I'll go deal with the weapons and get us some upgrades, while you can buy some of the other stuff we might need- gelpacks, spellscrolls, those kind of things." Jonathan looks to his friend for approval.

"Sure, whatever. Here, you can have all our weapons. Don't lose them or something." James heads off in the direction of the various stalls, while Jonathan leads himself towards the largest still-open weapons store in the area, a large building with a glowing sign.

"The Classic Forge- Vendor of Iron and Light Armaments Alike. Sounds reputable."

So speaking, he steps in the entryway.

------

[Oranen and Steven]

Well, you couldn't find the mage- he vanished quite well; nobody you asked could tell you exactly where he went, and after trying to hunt his trail down you gave up. Instead, you simply head to the nearest public library, hoping to find some books on Material Magic.

The public library isn't quite as large as the Guild branch's library- but you nonetheless find what you are looking for. A well-worn, central corridor is stocked with books, each dog-eared and well-read. It seems like the subject matter is quite popular, though you also note that very few of the books have been loaned out. It seems that despite popularity, Material Magic is not an easy skill to self-teach, a fact that you consider well as you extract a few beginners' coursebooks.

"Hm. How many books do you think we can get?"

"If it's anything like that last library, just one per person, I guess."

"So we pick two books to borrow. And by borrow, well- do you ever think we'll get around to turning these books back in?"

"Yeah, I doubt it. I'll pick the one I like the best, and you can do the same. The others will just have to deal with our choice, no?"

Turning your attention to the huge bookcases, you look through the books, alphabetically organized by subject- quite a plethora of selections, there. You see books on...

>Pyromancy, a subject of the redirection of heat, the most common form of energy, apparently, and not just fire either. Who knew?

>Magnetomancy, based around manipulating certain metal objects' inherent power and... Yeah, you have no idea what any of this means. Harmonic wavelengths? Adjusting the longitudinal wave? Field versus Force? What? Maybe you need to read it a lot more.

>Geomancy, based around understanding solid interactions, form to form, and spatial movement- the movement of the earth, in other words. Hey, you actually know some of the words they use in this one!

>Aeromancy, based around the usage of air vectors- a useful one for speed. And as you of all people know, speed is more crucial than people think when it comes to combat.

>Aquamancy, based around the manipulation of fluids, the most common of which is apparently water. Like you didn't know that already.

>Electromancy, apparently different from Pyromancy in some way, deals with the usage of energy in the specific form of electricity. Apparently, it's not recommended for major use since our bodies run on electricity, or at least our brains, making this quite dangerous.

>Barytiamancy, the art of gravity manipulation, often mistakenly called Gravimancy by casual learners. Apparently, gravity is an inherent property of material, some sort of intrinsic energy that is a byproduct of internal motions... This stuff's kind of interesting.

>Ygeiamancy, or in conventional terms Healing. The book notes that it's not an actual basic element of physics, and is a specialized school that deals with human biology, blah blah don't do on animals blah blah.

>Fytevomancy, apparently similar to Ygeiamancy but for plants. Growing them weird and stuff- the book notes that general biology knowledge will be incorporated into the art, though unfortunately not bioknowledge of animals. You begin to think that the weirder the name is, the more difficult it will be to learn.

>Megethomancy, the art of manipulating space. All sorts of weird vocabulary here- dimensional cardinality, relative distance- you can barely even understand the math behind vectors. Turns out you were right with your whole name hypothesis, there. The book notes that the usual usage for this magic is teleportation.

>Phonomancy, magical manipulation of sound. Hm. More waves- like you needed any more of that, after Magnetomancy. Probably won't be that useful, anyways.

>Kinetimancy, momentum, force, all the good things about hitting people with swords and hammers. You personally always figured the best way to get force was to lift weights, but apparently there's a magic for that too.

>Chronomancy, time manipulation. Only a single book sits on the shelf- and it contains little but a description of the magic type and a huge load of warnings about not actually trying it because it's dangerous and you can blah blah age yourself a thousand years in a moment blah blah accelerate universal heatdeath blahblah. Bored, you put it back on the shelf.

...You distinctly note a lack of Necromancy. Perhaps they thought it was too dangerous for the common reader- and you can't blame them, really. Dark magic, that. No Biomancy there either- though since it's apparently an attempt to combine Ygeiamancy and Fytevomancy into a single school of Material Magic, you suppose the scholars haven't really made a decision yet.

------

[James Rosenburg]

As you walk down the street, you find that there's quite a few stands, each with distinctive banners and decorations, as if clamoring for attention and customers- but instead, all they find with the baubles is attention from pesky birds. Your walk is interrupted briefly by snatches of conversations from other late afternoon shoppers.

"...So it got stolen and that's why we're getting another one here..."

"...Gelpacks are going up in price, I swear..."

"...All the wares from Haystria are absolutely worthless, I tell you- they're running huge economic scams, that's what..."

"...Can I buy a lollipop? Mommy? Please?"

You ignore them all and scan the area slowly as you walk, looking for useful vendors.

There, by the street corner- there's a shop that's selling medicines and things. Traditional medicines- not the advanced stuff. They've got herbs and philters and tinctures; you're not so sure about those, though. A young girl sits on the steps to the door, looking more and more morose as time passes and all the passerbys ignore her front in favor of the other shops. Really, the only use for those old medicines those days is if someone has a Light-Dampener field around, so that gelpacks and other bits of luxtech don't work- but how rare are those, anyways? It's not like you're ever going to see one for the rest of your days, you think to yourself.

Right next to it is a more conventional office of medicine that undoubtedly sells gelpacks and antidotes. It's notably getting a lot more business than the other store- in fact, you guess that these guys probably just moved in, given the state of their brand-new sign above the door. They're probably killing business for their next-door partner, but that's just economics, you guess. Still, you feel somewhat sorry for the girl sitting on her porch.

On the other side of the street stands the weapons store that Jonathan went into. Besides it, there's a slightly smaller store that boasts a billboard larger than its door.

"Bibliographia: For all your Spellscroll Needs"

Weird name for a store, but you figure maybe some spell scrolls could prove useful in the future too.

------

[Jonathan Kmetz]

"The crystals and components we can buy for a total of six hundred and fifty clips; we can convert this into credit for you, so that you can augment your weapon with your own components if you so desire."

"Hm. Well, I suppose that's a fair deal, though I'd rather see what you can do for our weapons first."

You pull out a tangled mess of handles and grips, showing all eight weapons to the clerk, standing before large forges pounding away at metal- probably more for show than actual productivity. Still, you have to admit, the sight is rather convincing, if only because it shows that the store is rich enough to support such displays continuously.

"Okay, so you have here... Four prism swords and four cryspistols, and you want upgrades for all four?"

"If that's possible within an hour."

"Hm. Yeah, with limited time we can't really fully explore all our options. To make matters simpler, I'll offer you a deal. Basically, we can either upgrade all your weapons with a generic upgrade- length extender for the swords, power booster, or accuracy increase for the pistols- or we can do specialty mods on maybe two or three of these things within our limited time."

"What limited modifications are you referring to?'

"Well, your weapons are pure luxtech right now. We can integrate some pre-runed components, and set up some Material Magic augments in your weapon. Or we could modify some of your light-circuits inside your weapon, make changes to the system- throwing a few splitters in there, or a few watergems in there, might change the output entirely."

"Splitters and watergems?"

"Yeah, splitters will split your weapon's power into two beams for extra area damage at the cost of power. Or you could hook up another battery to the splitter that functions on a conditional trigger so you can essentially produce spectacular waves of energy, burning up a battery every time you do so. Watergems are crystals formed entirely out of electrofluid, they randomize the wavelength of your light- some of the monsters out there are immune to certain wavelengths, you know, while on the other hand certain light constructs are extremely weak to certain wavelengths- and right now you guys only have red. We might even be able to change the color of your weapon entirely, though that costs extra."

"That's a lot to swallow. How about a comprehensive price list?"

"Of course." The clerk reaches down and pulls out a chart. "Swords and pistols are here, valued customer."

>SWORDS:
20 clips: Length Extension. Allows you to extend the length of your blade by two feet in exchange for decreased damage, at will.
40 clips: Power Enhancement. Increases the damage of your weapon.
130 clips: Basic Pyromantic Runing. Causes your weapon to inflict heat-based damage as well as the original damage, due to runes engraved on the insides of the blade.
130 clips: Basic Phonomantic Runing. Causes your weapon to inflict some melee damage as well as the original damage, as your weapon begins vibrating at a subatomic level upon activation.
15 clips: Hueshift. Changes the color of your prism-sword.
220 clips: Comprehensive Splitter Augmentation. Inserts a specific augmentation into the prism-sword so that one can release waves of energy for certain attacks, consuming a single basic battery each time.
75 clips: Watergem Augmentation. Randomizes the color of your blade, causing it to appear white to normal vision, and allows it to inflict all colors of damage.

>PISTOLS:
35 clips: Accuracy Enhancement. Increases long-range accuracy, as the laser beams remain cohesive for longer periods of time.
40 clips: Power Enhancement. Increases the damage of your weapon.
220 clips: Comprehensive Splitter Augmentation. Transforms your pistol into a handheld shotgun for a single shot, costing a battery to use.
130 clips: Basic Pyromantic Runing. Your blasts will also contain fire for additional heat damage.
50 clips: Extensible Dagger. Your pistol becomes a viable dagger for close combat and assassinations, as the blade extends out of the grip silently.
75 clips: Watergem Augmentation. Randomizes the color of your blast, causing it to appear white to normal vision, and allows it to inflict all colors of damage.

"Is this it? Seems a bit limited."

"Well, of course valued customer can also request specific combinations- a splitter that creates the ability to change from random-color mode into pure-color mode, for example, is something we are frequently requested for. If you think of everything as circuits, you can request anything you can imagine, though some requests take longer than others..."

"Can I tie runes into the circuit?"

"The runes are self-defined circuits already and thus cannot be tied into a light circuit. Apologies."

As you mull over the options shown above, you feel distinctly your budget constraining you- and with four swords and four pistols to handle, you probably can't really afford the expensive upgrades for more than a few of the weapons.

------

And as the three separate groups make their own decisions, the hour begins to wind down.

What two tomes out of the many books do you select, Oranen and Steven? Are there any other subjects you wish to find in the library instead?

What shops do you visit, and what wares do you specifically hunt for, James?

What augments do you select for your weapons, Jonathan? Do you request that the store use your components, or do you sell them off?

Player Status:

Roll #22

XxoriginxX:
I will take the book on Pyromancy.

You hoist the book, noting as you do so that the pages seem to be made of a strange fiber- probably to resist fire. You figure the material's definitely been put to a good cause.

"As for where I was, I wanted to be sure that there were no incidents occurring, no muggings and the like. These cities can be dangerous, especially in alleyways and such, where the scum of the town lurk, waiting for another victim, like an alligator patiently waits for a gazelle to reach in for a drink."

"So what, you got distracted by a mugging or what?"

"It was a murder. The moment their head hits the water, their neck is broken in half."

"You saw a murder, right here? What- didn't you try to stop it?"

"Well, not exactly... My parents died of such a thing. I was only 11 when I heard the news, my mother shot in the head, my father shot twice in the chest. Common back alley mugging gone wrong, found dead by a drunken passerby."

"Oh, just bringing back some memories, then? I suppose that's why you skulk around the alleyways every time we reach a large town. And here I thought you were the one considering mugging." You frown, ignoring his sarcastic jab, as you continue.

"The police of the area pursued the murder for only a week, and after the lack of any new information, gave up on the case. They couldn't stop the crime, and couldn't even bother to at least try to fix their mistake of letting my parents die... I do not want anyone else to suffer the same fate, left as an orphan without justice for their dead parents."

"...My condolences. But... Did you actually find any murderers to bring to justice."

"Well, no. But if nobody like me tries, then criminals will run free."

"Isn't that what they have police-" You shoot him a look as he realizes that you just went over the whole police issue. "-Oh. Right. Well..."

---

Wesfreak:
Take the book on Fytevomancy. (the human healing one.)

As you take the book, you remark on how thick and heavy it is, despite its simple cover. Apparently, the contents are much more detailed than it appears. As you do so, you make a scoffing remark at Oranen, who looks at you somewhat sourly.

"Congratulations: all you need are some fancy tights and you can become a superhero. Come on, let's find the others."

"Pfft. I don't even know why I thought you might care." Oranen shrugs. "We all have our own stories."

"You think we have time to find a book on luxchemistry before we leave? One can never have too many books."

"Probably not. No way the library will let us take any more books, anyways. Besides, I really don't think you need to be learning so much on the run. Why the sudden interest in academia?"

"Well, all this stuff might be useful in our... mission. You never know."

With that, you depart the building, catching a ride on one of the public transit carriages towards the Laserwalk Station, just as the sun begins to set.

---

JackBarber:
Buy some Gelpacks, maybe a few spells, Fire, Lightning, Slow, and Water scrolls.

The process of buying Gelpacks from the certified vendor is simple, routine, and mechanical, as usual. Gelpacks are everywhere, these days- ever since all the governments of practically every nation consolidated the production of Gelpacks into a single source. Nobody really knows where the source is, though, equally, nobody cares either. It's certainly much better than in the past, when gelpacks were often poisoned or contaminated due to unsafe production processes.

...You cease your rumination as you hand over a hundred clips in exchange for five gelpacks. You figure that your friends might just help you pay, though you could probably just handle the price alone.

The spell vendor, though...

"Welcome to the Bibliography." The clerk doesn't even look up as he continues to write down some tallies, while an abacus besides him counts and clicks its beads without his action. "What spells would you like to purchase?"

"General elemental combat spells, plus a few slowing spells. Fire, Lightning, Water."

"Hm. Elemental combat spellscrolls are simple enough- but the slowing spell? What school of manteia do you want?"

"What?"

The clerk sighs in obvious dramatic exaggeration.

"There's different schools of Material, and slow spells can be achieved several ways, some of which are just more reliable than the others. We can set up an Aeromantic way to make air more viscous around your enemy, we could lock him in place with Megethomantic magic to solidify him as a spatial stillpoint, we could just fractionate his kinetic energy with Kinetimancy. For a premium, we could even simply freeze time around him with Chronomancy, as the most reliable method."

"Uh... How much do those cost, each of them?"

"Aeromantic Viscosity Slowing is 35 clips, Kinetimantic Fractional Slowing is 750 clips, Megethomantic Stillpoint Slowing is 2400 clips, Chronomantic Dimensionality Slowing..." The clerk cuts off at the expression on your face. "You probably don't want to know how much, from the looks of you."

"Let's talk about the other scrolls. How about the fire, lightning, and water ones?"

"Hydrogenesis, as available to the public, produces about three gallons of water, at a force just strong enough to push an enemy back if you want- but it's better for drinking water. Blast Fire produces heat up to two hundred degrees fahrenheit for a burst of a single second, and the only lightning spell safe for use without a license has a maximum reach of ten feet, with about ten to fifteen milliamps of current."

"Milliamps? Doesn't sound like a lot."

"It's enough to paralyze a man. You are using these for self-defense, correct? We do not offer spells as... Weapons, for you to go around beating each other with like a glorified cudgel." The clerk seems somewhat disgusted with the idea. Quite elitist, this man. "You'll need a license for the stronger weaponizable spells."

"Y-yeah, self-defense only. How much do they cost again?" At your words, the abacus begins clicking and clacking again, floating into the air besides the clerk...

------

After a bit of bargaining, you exit the store eighty clips lighter, having purchased a bundle package of six different scrolls; two Scrolls of Blast Fire, two Scrolls of Minor Lightning, a Scroll of Hydrogenesis, and a Scroll of Aeromantic Slowing.

Next off...

After, that pay a little visit to the other medicine store, and ask the girl sitting on the porch what is wrong.

"Hello there. Are you related to the proprietor of this store?" At your words, the girl perks up slightly, looking at you from the stone steps.

"Yeah, I am. Are you going to buy something, mister?"

"I do intend on making purchases, if that's alright. The store is still open at this late time, correct?"

The girl nods; you note that she can't be over thirteen, as she runs into the store. "Hey, Momma! There's a customer!"

You walk in, following her as you push aside the door. The first thing you notice is the pungent smell- strange flavors and stenches waft in every direction- most probably from the hanging bundles of leaves and grasses, all tied up in neat clusters near the ceiling, competing for space with a few, sparse decorations that seem rather forlorn and displaced. The ground is wooden, covered with the detritus and dust of herbal storage, and you note that a few cauldrons in the back corners have long since burned out, the ashes beneath them no longer being stoked, so that, slowly, it diffuses across the ground. Your eye drifts to a few benches along the walls and to the desk in front, seemingly hand-made with sturdy, rough wood. The desk sees an apron-wearing woman step out to stand behind it-

"Well, welcome!" An eastern accent. 'I'm Matilbeth, and this's my daughter, Alchione." The girl is standing next to her mother, pulling out various leaves and things of the kind from behind drawers embedded in the desk. "Sorry for the delay- we haven't had customers for a few weeks now since that other shop moved in. So, what're you looking for?"

"Well, perhaps some conventional healing brews would be useful. Where we're going, I don't trust Gelpacks. A few antidote concoctions would be appreciated, too." Matilbeth chuckles at your words.

"Yes, yes- I'll be right back, got to get those old Ygeiamantic scrolls out! I'll be back in a few minutes with your potions, mister customer!" You're quite impressed that she pronounced the word correctly even as she disappears to the backroom, undoubtedly to fire up some cauldrons and begin brewing herbal potions.

Alchione is sitting on a bench on the walls, and with nothing to do for a while, you sit down and talk with her.

"Has your family been here a long time or what?"

Alchione nods. "We're one of the oldest families- greatgreatgrandfather helped found this town and we've been here ever since. When they built the Laserwalk here, we thought it would be great for business- but a few months later, those mean guys next door came!"

"Mean? How so?" You figured the shopkeepers would be a bit mechanical, perhaps- but mean?

"Yeah! They set up right besides us just to drive us out of business!"

Really. Now that you're not too sure about- but there is a coincidence. Still, you suppose it's not your business. As you return to stony silence again, the girl breaks your concentration by grabbing the edge of your traveling clothes padded with some soft leathers.

"Hey, stop messing with that. You can't just go around pulling at other people's clothes just because they look funny." You carefully bat off her hands from prying open one of the clasps on your overvest.

"Sorry... It's just... Are you a real adventurer?"

"Uh... Yeah, I suppose you could say I am." At your words, the girl seems delighted, her eyes beginning to sparkle with a new life-

"I've always wanted to be an adventurer! What do you do? Have you slain monstrous Darkforms and saven princesses just like in the stories? Do you crusade for righteous justice and kill bandits and bad guys?"

Girl seems to have the definition for Adventurer and Paladin mixed up. Still, you suppose you should indulge her with that last bit.

"Well, you know, we just came back from some bandit-fighting! Yes indeed. See, there's four of us and we were at this bandit outpost. Anyways, one of our friends grabbed a turret and started fighting the bad guys but then a bandit with armor came out- he had these magical greaves that let him fly on top of green fire trails..."

Alchione's eyes and mouth are alike wide open as you tell your tale to the naive girl.

"...And then his gauntlets exploded into lightning as I leapt straight at him! But I charged right through the explosion and impaled him in his wicked heart. He fell to the ground and the bandit threat was no more. The forces of good triumph once more!"

"Wow! Did you really kill the bad guy all by yourself as your friends cowered behind sheds?" Of course not, you think to yourself- but she doesn't need to know that. You answer with a wide grin.

"Yeah- we burned down the evil lair too afterwards."

"Woooow! I want to be an adventurer too! Can I come with you?" In her excitement, Alchione begins pulling at your leather straps once more. "Did you really get scarred under that leather vest?"

"Well, I-"

"Alchione? Are you messing with our visitor again?"

"No, Momma!" The girl giggles as she sits back down, the very picture of a demure child, as Matilbeth returns, bearing a few vials of various philters. You take them with a thanks and a question. "How much do I need to pay you for these, ma'am?"

Matilbeth laughs. "Oh, you can have them for free. These herbs have been languishing too long anyways." Matilbeth smiles as you bow once more in respect, and as you exit the room Alchione waves at you happily. The door closes behind you as you consider your gains in this store. But still...

...Ah, why not. Those two deserve it anyways, and you'd hate to just take their stuff like that.

You fold your newspaper into a compact envelope, putting fifty clips inside, and sandwich it under the door. Thus satisfied, you head to Jonathan's location, pleased with yourself, as the four potions and two antidotes make glassy clinks in your bag.

---

Bigkahuna:
Ask to use half of our components in the upgrades and use the other half for store credit (50/50 cash value split, 325 clips left over).Everyone's Upgrades: Sword Length Extension + Sword Power Enhancement ||| Pistol Extensible Dagger + Pistol Power Enhancement

As you finish setting up the upgrades, you see James come in. Quite good- you could use some conversation while you wait for them to reforge and reseal the equipment.

"Hey, James! How did it go?"

"Pretty well- spent quite a bit of money, though."

"Yeah, I burned through my personal finances myself. Think we'll have to redistribute our wealth a bit when we meet back up. So, what have you been doing?"

You're not sure why James got that silly grin all over his face all of a sudden.

"Oh, nothing at all. Just told a few stories to a girl."

He's hiding something, but at the moment you could care less. The two of you descend into idle chatter about plans for the future- with the unstated condition being after you cross the borders of Raitala- while you wait for the weapons.

------

Sanja waves at your group with her Halberd, glowing with veins of light even in the darkened surroundings so that you can find your way back. The sun just barely set when the four of you returned to the Laserwalk.

"You got back just in time! They set up the laserwalks now, the engine's starting in a few minutes. I was afraid you were going to be late!"

"But we weren't. We got some interesting stuff- I bought a few spells, Steven and Oranen there got us a pair of magic textbooks, and Jonathan upgraded our weapons. Oh, and we met a Concept Mage who has a really weirdly cool cloak."

As Sanja opens her mouth, words come from an overhead projector of some sort.

"Laserwalk Activation Energized. Activation within Twenty minutes."

"Productive afternoon, I see." Sanja turns, directing her soldiers to begin loading the caravan up the large metal ramp towards what appears to be a simple metal-forged cliff with a glowing edge. You surmise this is the beginning of the actual Laserwalk. "But you can tell me all about that while we're on the laserwalk for the next day, no? Soldiers, hurry up! The laserwalk is firing up in a few minutes, get that stuff loaded!"

And you watch and wait as the Laserwalk eventually fires.

Well, firing is rather an inaccurate term for what happened.

Instead of a burst of light as the path extends towards the horizon, as you'd expected, instead, the path slowly glows, and lights up- a process that takes an entire five minutes. Finally, a solid blue bridge of glowing energy stretches from the beginning of the dock to the horizon, passing through several support pillars (probably to provide additional sources of Light, you suppose) and vanishing into a speck.

Sanja begins beckoning her caravans onto the path, and you follow her, as an overhead, magnified sound, speaks once more.

"Five minutes until Acceleration."

And within the five minutes, a dozen other trade caravans push their carts up to the bridge as well-

"Acceleration. Do not leave the sphere of influence."

The light beneath your feet accelerates rapidly, even as you stand perfectly upright, unaffected by the force-

From an outsider's point of view, the caravans vanished into the horizons at many miles per hour. From your perspective, as the elevation of the Laserwalk rises higher and higher, you watch as the trees beneath you rush by in a green blur, as not even the fastest bird can match you, now fully two hundred feet elevated.

As you sit down on the accelerated path, the four of you begin sharing recollections with Sanja, attracting a whole circle of merchants to hear your stories.

James, though, airs his grievances instead.

"Hey, I spent 230 clips on all those supplies, potions and spells! How about sharing the costs, here?"

And as your traveling speed continues to increase, the four of you sit down to have a serious discussion of the redistribution of supplies and currency.

------

Player Status:

PERSPECTIVE SHIFT: Suggestion Mode

Suggestion Mode Information:

>Tiven
>Netiatono Vie
>Alchione
>????

Perspective Shift #1

Tiven:
I go to the nearest town and ask around for information concerning my dad...

It's night when I finally arrive at this town. This place is pretty big, just as I heard- Atelello is a major trading center, and if there's one thing this place can't lack, it's news. Well, that and wagons. There's wagons everywhere, parked all around the streets, locked down with ropes and chains, to protect what wares lie inside. Here and there, a large circular rune, softly glowing in the night, indicates that the owner chose a different method of protection than physical bindings.

Not like I'd want to steal their stuff anyways. Even with only my clothes, my wares, and a donkey loaned to me by the Mayor, I won't ever resort to thievery. Whatever faults my father had in his past, he taught me well there, I guess.

The few people that I met on my way weren't of much help; most of them redirected me, suggesting that I seek out larger cities. After almost a week of traveling, father is nowhere to be found- but while I'm out here, I guess I should try and learn a bit about my mother as well.

Well, the way I think it happened was that my father took me when I was born... And mother... She got left behind. He never really liked talking about it, and I don't know why- he'd just get displeased whenever I mentioned anything besides the present.

"Live in the now, Tiven," he'd always say. "The past is gone and tomorrow may never come." He was always like that- mysterious but always there, a pillar of solidarity for a seeming eternity. I don't even remember if he aged all that much- in my mind, Father was always the same age, like he came into existence this way, grizzled and strong and proud.

Why did he leave?

I keep going, seeing no open spaces on the street's edges to stop my donkey, the wagons piled thick and solid, what little space remaining occupied by unmanned booths without their nightly wares- which is all the same, seeing as I don't have too much cash on me anyways. A bit further down the street, a solitary building remains lit by lanterns, and seeing little other recourse, I arrive at the gate and knock on the door, hoping for a good night's rest.

A thirteen-year-old girl's face peeks through the doorcrack, as a stray whisper of wind catches something- a folded newspaper- lifts it into the air. I catch it out of courtesy as I speak to the girl.

"Uh, hi... It's really late and all the hostels are closed for the night, so I was wondering if you'd just let me sleep under your porch for the night? I've, um, been traveling for a while."

"Heehee! Momma, we've got another visitor!"

Well, I definitely wasn't expecting her to throw the door wide open and pull me in without another word like that-

This place smells absolutely horrid, but I really don't have the right to complain, seeing as I'm asking hospitality... And it's better than sleeping under the stars anyways. At least it's warm inside here.

An older woman- probably the girl's mother- sits on a bench, toying with some bottles, mixing powders here and there on top of a circular, runed tablet. The rune's light glow informs me that the tablet is probably magical in some way, though I've got little experience with magic in any way. Seeing her daughter pull a total stranger in, she clucks slightly and looks up at me.

"Alchione, did you pull someone in here randomly? You should apologize."

"But Momma! It's another adventurer, and he just showed up here and asked for a place to sleep!"

The woman stands up, putting the tablet in a side pocket- and I note that as she does so, the powders do not move from their locations on the stone, seemingly affixed in some way. Convenient.

"Well, I suppose I can allow you to stay for a night, poor dear- it's so late out now, isn't it? I'll be right back with some blankets and things. We only have one bed, so I'm afraid you'll have to sleep on the bench, if that's okay with you?"

"Oh, yes, that'll be fine!" I'm quite surprised at this good luck in finding such a kindly family! "I'm sorry for, uh, troubling you, miss..."

"Matilbeth, that's my name. You've already met Alchione, here." The little girl is outside, stroking the fur of the donkey, leaving the door wide open and swinging- "Alchione, get back in here, you'll catch cold." Mrs. Matilbeth watches until Alchione returns before going to get her stuff, and I'm left to go through my inventory.

Oh, wait, that's right.

"Hey, I found this folded newspaper wedged under your door. Is it important?"

Alchione takes the newspaper and unfolds it to find- Fifty clips, a handful of money, inside- the sparkling golden light cast by the money illuminates her slow smile, before she quickly folds it back up and dashes towards the back room, undoubtedly to show her mother.

A few minutes later, Mrs. Matilbeth comes out again holding a whole armful of blankets and cloths, with a kind smile on her face. She places two benches together to form a makeshift bed before beginning to place her blankets over it. "So, young man, I have to thank you for this. If you hadn't given this to us, we might never have found it before some other miscreant took it!"

Right, she's talking about that bundle of clips.

"It's no problem, Mrs. Matilbeth, I was just handing you something someone left on your door... Uh, yeah. Who left that there?"

Alchione speaks as her mother works on preparing bedding. "Probably that first adventurer, James somethingburg! So, where'd you come from, mister other adventurer?"

Well, I don't really see a problem in telling her about my job here, but the question is how much I should tell her; I'm getting a bit tired, myself... And seeing as this shop seems to sell medicines, perhaps they've gotten visitors that know about my father.

What should I tell Alchione and Mrs. Matilbeth, and what questions should I ask them in return?

Tiven Status:

Perspective Shift #2

Tiven:
I ask more about the first adventurer, slightly remembering the name...

"Somethingburg, huh... Would that be Rosenburg? Do you know where they've gone?"

Matilbeth seems somewhat surprised when I know that guy's name. It was a lucky guess on my part.

"Oh, yes! His name was Rosenburg when I think now. He came in here and I gave him some of my potions for free- we're probably going to move out of here soon anyways. Competition is too strong, you see." You nod in commiseration. "Apparently, he was kind enough to leave a farewell gift for us. A kind man, him, now that I guess- he was entertaining Alchione with a story about his adventures when I came back with my potions."

"A story? What story?"

"Well, in his story he singlehandedly defeated a bandit horde and killed its leader in a supreme act of heroism."

It's probably exaggerated, but I don't really care either way. So it was Rosenburg's crew- he did kill those bandits in the woods, after all.

"Ma'am, do you know where he went from here?" Not that it'll help me, but... Well, I'm honestly curious. This seems like too much of a coincidence... That, and I feel kinda bad for having yelled at him. I mean, a week on the road has taught me the difficulties of travel if nothing else.

I ain't giving up though.

Matilbeth shakes her head. "Naw, we don't know where he went from there. He said he had some urgent business on the Laserwalks, and I guess he's far, far away from Atelello by now."

"Did he mention anyone else?"

"No, he just said his friends were waiting. Why, dear? Are you looking for someone out here? You seem a bit young to be doing so much traveling."

"Yeah!" Alchione chimes in too at this point. "I want to know where you're going too!"

Uh...

I try to avoid the question, instead choosing to look out the window, putting on a show of apathy and sadness, as if I have some deep buried secret or something. Well, it works in the books anyways.

The dark streets before me, the buildings tall and moody, the sky dull and dead, all these factors come together to drive actual despair into my heart like a wedge, overtaking my faked solemnity, as I see a faraway blue glow in the horizon, telling me that the Laserwalk is undergoing acceleration.

...Wait.

Next to the Laserwalk's glow- yes, you can barely tell- there's other glows, shifting flashes of red and green, just bright enough to be seen from such a distance, without being covered by the blue of the Laserwalk.

Has there been a malfunction of some sort? As I keep watching, the lights eventually dim down, returning the ambience back to a regular cyan glow.

Behind me, Mrs. Matilbeth and Alchione still wait for my answer, Alchione bobbing up and down in excitement. What should I do or say?

Tiven's Status:

Perspective Shift #3

Tiven:
He should tell them that he's looking for his father, and if they ever heard of him (mention his name). He should also ask more questions about the adventurer, where he was going, etc.

"Well... you see..." I turn around from the window, filing the strange phenomenon away into my mind for later investigation. "Rosenburg's group was at our village not a while back, and that's part of the reason why I- my name's Tiven, by the way, sorry for making you wait- that's part of why I left Dovrutt."

"Oh? Do explain, dear. I actually haven't heard from Dovrutt in a while now."

"A few weeks ago, our town began having a bandit problem. Our solplates began disappearing off of our roofs as bandits snuck in and ripped them off- and anyone who tried to stop them... Well, we found a body in the streets, once in a while. Mayor began enforcing a curfew, and none of us really dared to go outside much anymore. Without solplates, our town began dying, withering off as people began to leave and trade caravans stopped coming our way. Eventually, Rosenburg and his party killed the bandits and we held a feast for them, but the damage will take so long to recover from..." I stop to catch my breath.

"That... That really sucks."

"Alchione! Watch your language."

"Well, that's not the worst thing, either- when the bandits started showing up, my father vanished. He was the first, and, well, everyone else says he died, he got killed when he met some of the bandits at night! But I know he didn't die- something must have happened to make him leave- he even left me a note!" I had shoved the note in my bag of components the day I left... I really didn't want to have to deal with seeing his familiar handwriting again. "I'm sure I can find him- he's out here somewhere. Have you heard of anyone with the name Saneferu?"

Matilbeth shakes her head. "Sorry, dear... We haven't been getting much business, and I don't think Mr. Rosenburg mentioned a Saneferu. What's your family name, son?"

"I don't have one."

Actually, that's a good question. Why don't I have a family name? Everyone else in our town has one- except me, apparently. Even if we couldn't use ours, there's no reason why father couldn't have just made one up, if he were starting anew for some reason. And yet we went by our initial names, the only names we've ever been given- I mean, I don't even have a dark-damned middle name either. Just that one word.

Sometimes I wish I had a last name. And maybe a few friends the same age as me would have been nice, when I was growing up- everyone else seemed a constant age, then, the constant age being Really Old. The youngest guy in Dovrutt was thirty when I was born, according to my father.

"Aw, you don't have a last name? That's no fun! How about I give you one?" Alchione, bouncing around as usual. Apparently, visitors really get her in a feisty mood. "I think we should call you Tiven Adventurer!"

"...Uh, Adventurer doesn't make a nice last name." Seriously, that word just rolls around in your mouth like an unwieldy sack of marbles. "If it's all the same, I think I'll live with my name."

"Alchione, you have to learn to stop messing around with all our visitors some time." Still, Mrs. Matilbeth's smile gives her stern tone away, making Alchione giggle even more.

...That's another thing about Dovrutt. It's been so long since I've heard laughing- the nice kind, not the kind of raucous yelling you get after a few flagons of rum like at that celebratory feast the Mayor held. Seriously, I can't stand such brutish behavior.

"Well, Tiven, it's a bit late now. I think you need your rest. Same goes for you, Alchione- bedtime now. You can talk with Tiven over breakfast tomorrow."

"Alright, Mommy. Bye, Tiven!"

"Uh, bye, Alchione. See you tomorrow. Thank you again, Mrs. Matilbeth."

And with that, as my host family exits the room, I fall onto the pile of soft blankets and black out almost instantly, my brain craving for blessed sleep.

------

An explosion rousts me from my sleep.

Wait.

An explosion?

Turning from beneath the ashes-

Ashes!

As I flip off the bed in panic, grabbing my backpack and slinging my entire inventory over my shoulder, I look out into the endless night- through the smouldering front of the building- or where the front used to be. Replacing an entire wall of the shop is empty space, hotter than usual as I leap through- landing in the darkened streets, adrenaline fueling my actions, I note that it's not even past midnight yet. All around me are craters, some aflame and others merely smoking.

Above me, I see a fluorish of a colored cloak-

As a huge explosion of flames, light and heat sending vibrations through my vision, strikes the point where I saw the cloak, perched above the edge of a large building, scarring the stone and sending chips of ash wafting down through the air.

A multicolored patchy cloak appears in my peripheral vision and I spin to see a mage-

3

-before he spins away again, sucking himself in through his cloak until he vanishes into an infinitesimal point within a fraction of a second to reappear atop another building, just in time to avoid a fireball that streaks towards him-

I'm not so fortunate as to hold magical escape jackets, though- and the crater sends me flying through the air. As I crash into another wall, I note with alarm-

Another fireball, flying straight at me- whatever force is doing this will choke on my phantom spirit until they die, I think to myself as I prepare for an inevitable death in flames-

11

Only to be absorbed by a wall of vines, trees, leaves, and other such plant material, instantly bursting into fire but absorbing the projectile, as I roll back into the shop-

And see Mrs. Matilbeth brandishing her tablet's reverse side, drawing circles into the pliant stone with incredible speed-

Mrs. Matilbeth is a Fytevomancer?

She turns and yells to me- "Take Alchione to safety! Run!"

And I am left speechless as yet another barricade of plants absorbs a blast of fire from a dark figure in the sky, who turns as spinning waves of colored patches envelop him- until the flying figure projects a fiery shield around him, incinerating all the patches in an instant-

Only for the strange, cloaked mage to manifest behind the flying figure and smash him into the ground with a blow from under that voluminous, multicolored garment.

"I said, run! Get to the Laserwalk Station and call some authorities!"

And only now Alchione staggers sleepily out of the back room, her pupils dilating as she sees the whole spectacle before her-

What should I do? This is all so far out of my depth!

Tiven's Status:

Perspective Shift #4

As I spin and grab Alchione by her hand, I throw an exclamation back in Mrs. Matilbeth's direction as I pass beneath the warring magi.

"You'd better get out of this alive, if only for Alchione!"

Above me, Mrs. Matilbeth nods- standing atop a rotating, continuously growing pillar of solid vines, deflecting bolts of fire with blooming shields while the cloaked mage, seemingly allied with the motherly mage, fights a black, inky figure, flying atop jets of dark crimson fire-

Ouch, that's gotta hurt. I've got no time to watch, though!

------

[Netiatono Vie]

I spin to the side, my magical Manifold Chromatic Cloak absorbing the enemy attack, and as I roll across the rooftop my cloak detaches itself from my back and unfolds, revealing its internal void as the fireball is fired straight back at the enemy-

Only to unwind, like a string, into six strands which are absorbed by six different crystal containers at my strange foe's side.

But I am not done yet. My cloak catches me, acting as a trampoline, boosting my jump as my dual scimitars spin, leaving ephermeral traces of razor-sharp cloth behind, waves of fabric to lash and cut my enemy-

He burns my Patchwork with a wave of rolling fire, held constant before him like a shield- But he has forgotten to cover his back with his fiery shield. And so, I spin into the endless void of my own cloak, reemerging from a nonexistent point behind the foe- and I cross-slash him across his back with my twin blades, smashing two of his glassy vials, releasing twin bursts of flames, even as blood spills in the air from the X-shaped cut I have inflicted-

...That's not blood.

And as I try to comprehend this scenario, the black, tarry substance, almost like ink but with a much more putrified smell, whatever it is that substitutes for blood in this strange, dark foe, leaps forth into spikes that miss me as I dodge- but they do not miss my cloak, and as I am dragged back by the extending tendrils attached to my garment of choice I am sent crashing through the wall of a building.

I dimly register the woman beneath me- a Materialist, it seems, but I'm in no condition to reject aid based on philosophical matters right now- she, with a few runes and scribbles, sends spiky ivy vines streaking into the air, which immediately engage in a tangled dogfight as the black fluid retaliates, the dark figure now held aloft not by jets of fire but by octopus-like strands, clinging to the walls around the street.

I stand up as the tendrils impaling my cloak recede, the holes regenerating with new applied patches in an instant, and as I leap back into battle a small part of my mind hopes that that kid and the girl got to safety, what with all those crystal spiders crawling around the city now.

------

[Tiven]

Alchione, sitting on my shoulders, shrieks as she sees from her elevated viewpoint-

"Spiders! Eek!"

...I hate spiders. Damned hard things to kill. Still, I figure I'm more than skilled enough to deal with just... one...

That's right, Alchione was speaking in the plural form, wasn't she? More than one? Well, this is definitely more than one. In fact, I already spot five- no wait, six- crawling down the street towards me.

"Where the dark did all these crawlers come from!?" And with that, I run down a side-path, seeking to go around the monsters, still bearing Alchione (she can't run as fast as me) on my shoulders to increase my speed. Honestly, she doesn't weigh much more than my backpack.

Above me, the shadows change and I duck beneath a bench just as more spiders appear and fire a few globs of web down. Having avoided the sticky stuff, I charge once more, exiting the firing corridor with no harm, emerging onto another main street to see with despair even more SPIDERS.

Damn spiders.

I brace myself and pull out my crossbow, loading the repeater mechanism with all my crystal bolts- hopefully, the explosion of light will at least ward off the spiders, who are used to the dark, or so I've heard. I fire one shot, almost as a test of my weapon-

12

And I am rewarded with shrieks all around as a single spider is impaled through the torso by a brilliant beam of light. Struggling, the multi-legged repulsive thing tries to free itself to no avail before the crystal detonates- sending spider-guts and legs flying everywhere. The rest of his kin seem slightly warded, even as I note with increasing fear that the shrieks came from in front, besides, above, behind me- they seem to be everywhere.

I should probably capitalize on this opportunity, and I flee, trying to escape the infestation. I have to get to the Laserwalk- but there's no way I can keep eluding these things, there's just too many of them.

Maybe... If I entered a building, I could navigate it more deftly than a spider, which hasn't any arms or anything except frame larger than most of the doors in houses. And the walls in houses would allow me to avoid being hit by webbing, too. My plan thus settled, I charge forward and sail over a spider, firing a bolt under me in the apex of my leap so that the explosion only pushes me further. Really, Father's decision to buy me this for my last birthday was a good one, even though I said I didn't really intend on using it- if only because it got me out of that situation.

And thus I barrel right into a building's second-floor window instead of through the door as I'd expected. Alchione pushes herself off of my back, looking somewhat scared; I grab her hand to make sure she doesn't flee in panic. Looking around, I find myself...

4

...on the upper catwalk of an industrial building, pistons working here and there, chains hanging from the ceiling, suspending I-beams just large enough for me to walk on, it seems- not that I'd do anything that precarious. Beneath me, superheated pools of metal are poured by automated devices into molds, solidifying and being implanted with circuitry before completion, huge amounts of crystals and components being dispensed by mechanically locked safes in the air, held up by, again, chains. On the upper catwalk, flexible arms with control stations inside provide workers (not that any are present) with a way to analyze the rusty devices doing the hard labor- not that I'd have any idea how to operate the cranes or the moving arms. Some stairs lead down to the ground floor, but I have no intention of heading down, as I see some spiders following me into the room and cringing at the heat- undoubtedly much worse on the ground than up here.

A series of web shots throw me out of a reverie as I look out the window and see spiders climbing up the wall towards me. Behind me, Alchione drags me away from the viewport, speaking as she does so- "Come on, Tiven, we have to get out of here! We're only, what, halfway to the Laserwalk by now!"

The spiders beneath me...

2

Have already found the stairs, and with deft shots of web they latch onto the chains and I-beams in the air, pulling themselves up their own silk with the elegance of ballet dancers, even as spiders begin entering from the window- And I note with dread that the catwalk does not quite extend to the other side of the factory chamber... But the stairs are already being occupied by invading, crystalline arachnids, seemingly tamed to slay all who cross their path-

What do I do?!?!

Party's Status:

Perspective Shift #5

Tiven should choke down a health potion.
Then, he should run to the end of the catwalk, get in the control station, and press random buttons to try to kill the spiders; defending if necessary.

If I can reach the spider silk that the spiders are climbing up, cut through it with my longsword. Then keep running towards the other end the room. While running, fire a bolt inside one of the pots of molten metal/crystal that is near the spiders as soon as it is poored so that that the explosion from the tip will blast the molten stuff out and burn the spiders. After firing that shot, aim towards the spiders ahead of me and keep shooting.

As I look around, trying to plot a viable method of escape, Alchione pulls a glassy bottle out of her hand, throwing it towards me. Without thinking, I catch it, seeing inside the container a viscous and dull green fluid dimly lit by the scarlet fires. Recognizing it as a herbal tincture for the promotion of regeneration, I quaff it instantly and feel the dead flesh and scars on my body beginning to revert back to a healthier state, a renewed vitality coming over me.

The stuff tasted foul, though I suppose that's what happens when one uses herbs to create a nostrum.

My mind cleared of the dull mist brought on by aches, I formulate a plan and dash off, Alchione following me quickly down the walkway. As I run down the path, my blade finds itself attached to the handlerails of the walkway almost as if it were pressed to the whetstone, and the friction severs many strands of spiders' silk and their arachnid occupants as well, sending the creatures falling down amidst a rain of golden sparks caused by steel scraping on steel.

As I run, I pull out my crossbow, and, aiming for a thin support of one of the many forging vats, fire a single bolt with hopes of disrupting the container and drowning my pursuers with fire.

19

My plan goes off perfectly as the crystal bolt pierces through the bottom and promptly detonates in sparks and fury, collapsing not one but three of the four supports on the huge cast-iron cylinder- and the spiders rear back in fear, as both they and I watch the approaching wave of molten iron- and a few arachnids, not yet recovered from their fall back to the ground, are promptly consumed in shrieks and agony by the solid iron-

12

And the wave of red-hot fluid metal continues its path as spiders climb the walls, seeking to avert the environmental hazard; the stairs are quite completely blocked off, now, thanks to the metal, and I strongly suspect that the stairs won't exist anymore- undoubtedly, the metal girdings are melting at this instant and being consumed by the molten metal. My path thus secured for a few dozen precious seconds, I charge down the pathway, continuing to fire crystal bolts at the spiders who yet perch on their silky strands latched to the I-beams, not making leaps towards me for fear of falling into a fiery doom-

8

But that apparently does nothing to prevent them from firing corrosive gobbets at me with their front pincers, streams of steamingly virulent substance hitting the metal of the floor around me, eating through the black iron with a hiss- This stuff is... scary.

Since when did crystal spiders know how to shoot acid? Then again, I suppose normal spiders aren't this dark-damned smart. They're still trying to form a pincer movement around me by climbing onto the walls with those damn legs of theirs.

As I continue to run, shielding myself with my leather buckler, I know that such paltry defense can't possibly be enough- and I can already hear the chemicals burn through my shield. As the last vestiges of animal skin peel off from its surface, I ignore its new, sad appearance as I dive forwards, rolling behind a control station for one of the myriad cranes perched around the room, a crane that hoists a pair of U-beams atop it-

7

And with a sickening lurch, I feel... something give in the floor. Besides me, Alchione shrieks as she slides on the now sloped floor, a tripping fall leading her to slip towards an acid-carved hole-

Instead, I just grab her and pull her behind the station with me, as I consider what to do next- and I definitely try to avoid looking at Alchione, because seeing that fear in her face isn't helping me at all-

Beneath me, the supports continue to give as the molten metal, its heat making us begin to sweat, now applies its heat to the support structures of our catwalk, the pillars beginning to twist and thus fail to support its quota of weight. All this means for the two of us is that the catwalk is no longer reliable- and as the acid continues to eat holes in the already-teetering metal, I abruptly decide that there's no way we can stay on the pathway.

So I pull the door open-

"Alchione! Get inside here, the station's more secure than the outside-" And without a word she scurries in, almost leaping, and I close the reinforced steel door just as a spider's blast of acid- and several strips of web- impact it.

16

The door is reinforced, though, somehow resisting the acid's attempts at catalysis- and as I run over to the controls, the glassy windows likewise pelted with acid but thankfully not giving way, I find that the power source is localized- and that the controls are still effective. Thank the light.

I, for the first time since I woke up, grin-

"Alchione, you better find something to strap down on or grab onto, because this is going to be rough."

Alchione, staring at me with bleary yet wild fear, a jaded desperation look permanently etched on her face, nods- "What are you going to do?"

"Well, if you have anything that'll help us run along the top of the crane more easily," I say, looking out the viewport and seeing that the crane's arm, with a few paltry handholds, might not be too safe, "Now would be a good time. In the meantime, though-"

And I extend the arm of the crane out to its maximum length as I pivot the control joystick, sending the machine spinning in a one-hundred-eighty degree angle, severing the silk strands of many spiders perched on the wall and smashing the crane into the wall, crushing a few more spiders into goo and acid in the process, creating a large crater in the wall that continued to expand thanks to the acid, as the internal fluids of the spiders fizzled against the metal surface of the wall.

"We run over the crane and to the next catwalk, and from there we can get to the exit- it's right over there!"

Alchione looks at me fearfully and finally nods her head, and as I smash through the glass with my sword we go leaping out the new exit we created.

19

And at that point, the reinforced steel door finally breaks down, dozens of spiders pouring their weight in the room, seeking their prey- surely, he had no place to go after that? Surely their quarry has finally been captured?

Screw that.

Because as I run, carrying Alchione on my back, covering for her with my sword, I grin-

As the control station explodes behind me, I leap just in time, crashing onto the catwalk with a muffled pain, Alchione flung off my back to land a few feet ahead of me. In front of me, she picks herself up and, looking back fearfully at me-

"I'm fine, just run!"

She propels herself off towards the exiting door of the other catwalk as a few remaining arachnids redirect their course, frustrated at our escape-

And as I make good my fleeing path likewise, I laugh at how easy it was to set up a small improvised tripmine with the remnants of my buckler and five crystal detonator arrowheads.

4

And just as the two of us (I having at last caught up to Alchione) are about to exit the building and continue our movement, two things happen.

One is that a well-aimed wave of silk managed to coat the exit entirely, sealing the cracks, creating a webwork of interstitial bindings between the door and wall- a covering that would take time to remove. Time that I did not have. Still, I'm sure that I can just smash through it with my last three arrows, or something.

The second thing is a lot scarier.

A huge green explosion, emerald smoke and fire, breaks the side of the wall open, absolutely obliterating part of the catwalk that we stood on- and this time, as the supports began to shake, I realized that there was not a third set of catwalks for me to make my landing upon in a miraculous escape.

As my eyes adjust to the absolute luminance of the attack, I recognize that a human shape was blasted straight into a wall, a human shape wearing two twisted metal equipment pieces on each of his hands, shape and make unknown, and function unrecognized- but each glowing with crimson runes, their shapes standing out starkly in the darkness. As he pulls himself out of the crater he produced in the cast-iron wall, black, inky tendrils begin making their way into the newly created exit's frame, the outside light framing the movements of these unnatural appendages well.

The black streams bring with them a black shape, vaguely humanoid, a being held in place by these tendrils extruding from his wrists, wearing a blackened trenchcoat seemingly inscribed with various glowing runes of its own. And as he enters, he turns an eyeless face to me-

He reels, seemingly in shock, and freezes for a second before he raises his head and hisses-

"Whereforth go the Abstraction Soldiers, young child? Where does their Knight call them? Tell me!"

And as I gibber in incomprehension and fear, the black figure reaches out a spiked tendril towards me-

Before a bolt of red light divests him of his inky manipulator, the severed strand falling to the floor and shattering like glass, the dark owner having been launched back outside of the complex by the man wielding the strange equipment that seems to produce these red blasts-

That same man launches himself back out with but a single cry of war, not even looking in my direction once.

I am pulled back to reality by a spider, launching itself out from behind me- and though I stab it in its stomach and allow it to fall to the floor, incapacitated or dead (for I really have better things to care about), Alchione hesitatingly taps my shoulder.

"Uh, Tiven? I don't think the door is going to work, but I'm scared to go near that entrance-"

She has a good point too. I kick apart the apparently black glass-fragments as I survey the changed scene.

Beneath me, the molten metal has begun cooling, the catwalk across the room having half-collapsed into the metal, the two fusing as one misshapen mass. Hopefully, whoever caused this dark-damned invasion will also pay for the cost. At least, I hope it'll be him and not me. In any case, as pertinent to the now, the metal has cooled to barely above red and is no longer flowing across the floor, though half the rooms' mechanisms have been all but destroyed now.

The catwalk under me continues to totter, but without major shifts it remains constant- for now. I really don't think it'll stay that way for much longer, though, especially if those two guys come back.

The door the catwalk leads to is sealed with webbing, and might take some time to get through- if I'm lucky. Speaking of luck, the spiders have seemingly run out of their bodily stores of both web and poison, and are now marching resolutely across the crane's arm to our catwalk, despite their much-lowered numbers. Can the catwalk hold up more than our weight at this point? I honestly don't know.

Of course, there's a very convenient hole in the wall of this fine factory here- one that the moonlight still shines through, offering hopes of escape- but I also note the shards of black glass remaining all around the entrance, remnants of the strange eyeless man's forced exeunt... Perhaps that path poses more danger than I am prepared for, though I do admit curiosity as to what that creepy guy meant.

What was that guy talking about- and how do I get myself out of this mess?

Party's Status:

Perspective Shift #6

He should tell Alchione to use the spell of Spore Confusion on the spiders, and then start hacking at the web to gain an exit. Examine my bag of components for any useful objects..

Alchione follows suit as I yell at her to incant the scroll, and a strange yellow miasma wafts from the activated, glowing runic scroll. Alchione flings it as far as she can-

6

And for a moment, the scroll slides and I fear it will fall off the edge of the catwalk, but in the end a lucky guardrail catches it, and the mist begins filling and replacing the air, creating a blockage in the very atmosphere. This will buy me enough time, hopefully, and I turn to the process of hacking away at the door's edges with my blade, accumulating many severed strands in the process even as Alchione begins pulling at the web with her bare hands, helping me to unblock our chosen exit.

10

And as I at last complete the job, my sword positively wrapped in accumulated silken detritus by now, the miasma continues to spread behind us- and I see misty forms, twisted legs curling up and spiders rolling out of the hallucinogenic cloud to fall on the bottom level- where the heated metal plates quickly fuse the spiders' backs to the ground. Clearly, the first level has not cooled yet- so I guess it's a good idea that I didn't head for the bottom areas!

As I begin to push the door open, a few strands snapping as I move the heavy door, Alchione helping me again with what strength she has, I recall my inventory of components- remembering that there are indeed thermal plates designed to absorb and negate major changes in temperature-

6

-but I doubt I could find a way to absorb all the heat on the bottom level as to make it safe for me to walk. In the end, a crack of moonlight appears as I finally make some headway on the door, curse these rusty hinges-

And then I get positively thrown back by a human-shaped silhouette, an indentation appearing in the thin metal door itself, and as I reel back both from the shock and the sound, a piercing strand of darkness strikes straight through the wall, implanting itself in the direct center of the imprinted silhouette's chest.

I can only hope that guy got off the door safely before that impaling thing went through the door- as I slice the tendril in half, the liquid crystallizing into black, smoky glass and shattering as it falls to the ground. Pushing my way through the door once more, I see-

15

-The dark cloaked mage lashing about with tendrils sprouting from his form and the combat mage wielding his strange arm apparatuses continuing to fight. As I watch, the man wielding red fire launches himself into the air with the help of his flames, and throws a wave of fire at his enemy, who nimbly dodges and retaliates with a dozen fluid tentacles of the strange, foreboding ink substance-

It is at this time that I notice that mister cloaked mage has lost his left arm, and from that stumped wound flows not fresh, red blood, but purest black tar, a mass of the inky material that chaotically fluctuates hither and to, occasionally coalescing into the general outline of an arm, shifting through any of a dozen forms, sword, claws, spear, tentacles, a rending jaw, a screaming face- The effect is quite unnerving, to be frank, and on this second-floor fire-escape I have a perfect view of the whole battle from below- neither of them have seemingly noticed me thus yet.

If/when we get outside the webbed door, investigate the actions of the hooded mage; try to get information from him without confrontation. If the spiders are not affected/break out of the Spore trance, run away (if the webs are cut) or stand and fight by stabbing them in the eye with my longsword. If the hooded mage attacks, attempt to get sufficient cover, preferably by hiding within a building. Once all possible information gathering without major risk of death is exhausted, head to the Laserwalk.

Well, I see a very large opportunity right here-

18

"Eeek!" And Alchione positively clutches me as she now notices the ghastly forms of the strange fluid arm of the cloaked mage, who now turns his eyeless face upwards to me, apparently surprised at my presence again-

"Progenitor and Inheritor! Where-"

A lance of fire penetrates his defenses, pushing the dark mage through the alley's entrance, out into a moonlit street (no longer infested with spiders, I note), and eventually pins him right to a wall on the other side of the street- and as the fire recedes, a golden pike remains, its surface inscribed with intricate runes that I can't recognize for my life. Beneath me, the other fighter (who, I note, has taken several slashing hits across his arms and chest), looks up and calls to me.

"What the dark- Kid, run for it! you don't want to be here-"

But before he can do anything, I leap down from the fire-escape, slinging off a clothesline and dashing off to the impaled, cloaked man, in hopes of finding answers, even as Alchione, not quite skilled enough to leap, dashes off the fire escape and chases me.

"Who are you?!"

And as I reach the mage, my words fly before my feet, and he rasps an answer just as I arrive close to him.

3

"Where is your father? Where has Saneferu gone?!"

Alright, so that wasn't much of an answer- Wait, did he just ask about my-

"What do you know about my father!?"

"Hee- heehee. You don't know who he is? I'm not surprised. Of course he wouldn't tell you about being an Abstraction Soldier-"

But before I can respond, in indignity or in rage or in shock or in plain confusion, the golden lance abruptly shifts around the shivering form of the pale mage before me. With a swooping sound, the pike is pulled back through the mage's body, back into the hands of its thrower, as the mage slumps to the ground, small trace bits of black fluid dripping from the entry point.

"What the dark is this!? You-"

I grab him by the shoulders, in hopes of pulling him back up and receiving more questions- and I am but rewarded with crackling sounds as I detach his arms completely, crystalline powder falling from the wound. Even as I watch, the mage's body dessicates, blood vessels becoming apparent under the skin- and as I, fearfully, touch the body, I hear more cracking of glass, as blood vessels so clear abruptly collapse into nothing. The two arms I hold I drop to the path beneath me- and as they impact, a delicate sound, like that of a delicate crystal goblet shattering, is heard- and the arms break into reflective dust, pristinely black, disintegrating perfectly into smaller and smaller bits of that strange black glass.

The entire body begins turning black and reflective under the dry, papery skin-

And, mercifully, the winds come and blow the remnants of the mage away into the wind, erosion happening before my eyes as the man fades into nothing but dark dust in the air- for an instant, I think I see the bare skull, coated in blackened crystal- and at this point, two hands fall upon my shoulder, one a young girl's slender hand, and another the large, armored hand of that man, the one who used red flame.

I decide it's a good time to vomit.

After I'm done, I turn around as Alchione begins checking me for injury, and see the huge man with a beard- no, a mane, a crimson mane encircling his head like that of a proud lion- I see him slot the golden spear back into a slot in those huge gauntlets of his as he speaks to me.

"Kid, what are you doing out here? There's been an attack on Atelello here, you should get back to your house and stay in lockdown, we'll deal with the rest of this."

From the looks of him, he's some sort of law-enforcement or vigilante here.

"Sir, I'm trying to get to the Laserwalk and administrative buildings- the Herbal store has been attacked-"

"Yeah, we've heard. They hit the herbal store and the gelpack place next to it, that one old weapons shop called The Classic Forge, and the magic shop Bibliography, as well as a small-time vendor who sells secondhand components- there's not really a correlation, but they've killed at least six people, maybe seven."

"Oh light..."

"Yeah, they burned the Guild of Mentia Exalt's branch here to the ground as well and went after the Mage of Many Colors. You know anything about all this?"

"Uh... Not really. I heard there was an adventurer who came to the herbal shop, though- and I saw some guy with a cloak fighting another one of those, uh, dark mage people near the herbal place."

"...Hm. Well, we should get to the Laserwalk anyways- Ride my hand, it's faster."

Seeing no alternative, I cautiously clamber onto his gigantic gauntlet, feeling mechanisms turn and pistons hit underneath it, creating a constant warm vibration- gotta be some normal tech in there besides magic, I guess. Maybe if I took a look I could recognize some of it-

Alchione gets in the other hand as I realize that these hands are just big enough for me to sit in them while crouching.

And without a further word, the red-maned man dashes off in the direction of the Laserwalk, carrying me and Alchione with him-

------

"Sergeant Roltam, Sir! You've returned!"

As I leap off the large man's mechanical gauntlets' none too spacious grasp, I observe a few uniformed members of the town guard submit salutes to him- An officer of our military, then, a Sergeant. He doesn't seem the type, but I can't begrudge his fighting skill.

"How did the fight go?"

"Sir, the Laserwalks were not destroyed or taken. In fact, the enemy magi, after being beaten back, made an expeditious retreat- in fact, they fled on our very own Laserwalk!" The guard's proud look as he finished his statement was not matched by his superior's face.

"...So they broke into our Laserwalk and headed off- Where are the walks routed this time?"

"The Shikahu Front, Sir!"

"How troubling. I'll contact headquarters and tell them to have a squad of troops waiting there. These insurgents will be captured as soon as they step off the Walk."

"Yes, Sir!"

And with that, I find my own role in this entire thing resolved. Slightly unsatisfied, I turn around, looking at the battlefield-

Black crystal formations, standing regally under a milky moon, stand in centers of large craters. Flame and sword scar the area around the laserwalk even as I notice the buildings that support our highways to be completely undamaged, as if they were trying to avoid attacking our power plants. I guess that's a good thing, or they just had some morals after all. A few dead bodies lay here and there- and a few piles of black dust that I recognize as the remains of the strange magi have accumulated at the bottom of especially deep craters, untouched by the flowing air. The Laserwalk's blue glow permeates the area, giving everything a strange, eerie atmosphere- and I note that the color really doesn't match Mister- no, Sergeant Roltam's red beard.

The sound of cloth behind me causes me to turn around to see the strangely garbed mage from the fight at the Herbal store appear- and Alchione leaps into a hug on the man-

"Uncle Vie! Where's momma?"

Vie? Alchione knows this mage?

The man gives a small laugh, as I note a few black splinters still embedded in his left leg. Apparently, though, he can still travel just fine despite the limp, thanks to that cloak of his.

"Hehe, I'm glad to see you got out of there alright! Matilbeth is fine, woman just needs a bit of rest- she used up a bunch of scrolls there, though." He turns to me with those piercing eyes of his- "And I'm rather thankful to you, young man- you managed to get her here safely!"

"Erm, well, it was mostly Sergeant Roltam over there-"

The mage frowns and I quickly change my sentence.

"-and I don't believe I've yet heard your name, sir?"

"I am the Illustrious Netiatono Vie, Master of the Patchwork Way, Mage of Many Colors, Professor of the Guild of Mentia Exalt, Scholar and Artist Extraordinaire-"

"Uh, yes, it's a great honor to meet you, Master Vie. I'm Tiven, from Dovrutt."

Man, this guy is strange. I guess it comes with the field- mages have to be strange in some way or another, I guess. Netiatono beams at me, apparently taking my words seriously, as Alchione continues to bounce around him and pull at his cloak.

"Say, lad, you look like you could learn some magic- and the Guild of Mentia Exalt is always looking for new acolytes-" His gaze darkens. "-and we could use some new people after our library got, well, quite liberally incinerated by those people."

"Uhh..."

"What, Netiatono, you trying to drag more people off to your loony cult?" Sergeant Roltam, finished giving orders to troops, has come over to us-

"Roltam. I will have you know the Guild is a respectable institution of higher education, and I will not tolerate you insulting it-"

"Pfft, fine, Mister Rainbow Mage. Hey, lad, yell for me if he tries to kidnap you, alright?"

"Uhh..."

Well, now that I've pretty much got everyone around me, I figure I have time to ask some questions and get some information on this huge mess. What do I say or do?

Party's Status:

New Characters

Mark Roettor (johnratchet3)
10/10 HP

Inventory:
130 clips
Working Vest w/ 4 Pockets
Luxchemistry Toolset
Iron Hammer
Chisel
2x Gelpack

Skills:
Basic Luxchemistry: Trained as a repairman, you are able to do repairs on the lux circuits of various forms of technology.
General Runic Appraisal: Luxchemistry and Runic augmentation go hand in hand, and experience has taught you to recognize some basic runes.

Techniques:
None

Allene Anael (ShadoWKilleR)
10/10 HP

Inventory:
130 clips
Range-Augmented Light Runic Rifle
18x Bullet Bolts
2x Crysknife
Backpack containing 2x Rations Pack
1x Herbal Potion

Skills:
Subconscious Triangulation: Much training with ranged weaponry has granted you a consistent ability to recognize distances and trajectories. All rolls involving distance get +2.

Techniques:
None

Perspective Shift #7

Ask when and why the attack started...

"Honestly, we have no idea. Still, maybe you could tell us something about it." Roltam peers down at me as Netiatono turns away at Alchione's pulling. I stand up as tall as I can, feeling slightly intimidated by the towering sergeant's build.

"I'll do, uh, my best, sir."

"Well, in the middle of the night, maybe two hours ago, six mages ported in, each wearing dark cloaks with hoods- and it seems that each of them had that strange ink-tendril-blood ability thing of theirs. I don't know what they were after, but they seemed to be looking for something- the senior among them, who had a cloak with more silver trim than the rest, was leading a whole bunch of spiders- and they kept coming until we hit the portal with an Overcharge. Still, by that time those spiders were everywhere, and, well, you saw what happened." Roltam stops to take a breath.

"What about the mages?"

"They each hit a single location, and searched it thoroughly before they were discovered, at which point they massacred all the people around and completely obliterated the location. The range of targets was incredibly strange- from the Guild of Mentia Exalt's branch to a tiny component stand, not even a full-fledged store. We have no idea what they were looking for, but targets included the Guild branch, the component stand, the stores Bibliography and Classic Forge, and the herbal store you were at- and the primary target itself, the Laserwalk station."

"So is that the battle here- what happened, exactly?"

"Well, the lead mage was a lot stronger than the other guys, apparently- he could make these black crystals explode from the ground at will, as you've seen; he also had much longer reach with his tendrils and could apparently create perforations in his skin to use the tendrils at will, instead of only using them when he gets wounded. We don't have any idea what the black crystal is, but I have a sample for analysis- maybe we can figure out what magic or technology was used. Anyways, that mage- he smashed through our defenses, crippled a bunch of people with black glass needles, and went straight for the walk. He led a bunch of old spiders, large veteran ones, three years old or more from their size- absolutely hulking brutes of crystal spiders he had there. They all went on the Laserwalk, but we can't shut it down because civilian and military transports are still on this Walk and a shutdown would mean collateral damage. We'll just have to catch them when they show up at the other side. Shouldn't be too difficult- they have a beeline towards our side of Shikahu, our men are all over the place."

"I see, sir."

Ask Seargant Rolton about the mysterious mage and his references to Tiven's father. While talking to seargent Rolton, ask him if he's a mage, and if so what kind.

"The mage didn't wear any identifying marks, and they didn't fight with weapons. Their strange magic is rather unknown to us, besides their use of general pyromancy, not specialized enough to tell us anything about their origins."

"One of them apparently knows my father, sir-" I guess it's my duty as a citizen to volunteer information. "He called my father an Abstraction Soldier, said that of course I wouldn't know about that fact. What's an Abstraction Soldier, sir?"

1

"...Never heard of them."

"...Alright. If you ever meet anyone else related to these Abstraction guys, or if you meet my father- he's called Saneferu, he has brown hair and he's maybe six feet tall- I'm looking for my father, so if you ever have any news of him..."

"Right, lad. I'll remember that. Say, you were looking at my gauntlet like you wanted to take it apart when we were coming here- you a luxchemist or something?"

Well, I actually kinda did want to take it apart- it'd be quite rude to ask, though. "I was actually interested in how it worked. We had a components shop down in Dovrutt."

"Alright, lad, as you can tell this thing works with principles of General Pyromancy. There's a few pyromantic engines built into it that consistently produce fire. Note that this stuff is red- the color of pyromantic flame can generally denote what the power source of that flame is. Red means that the flame has internal power source- most warm colors, yellows and oranges and reds, are like that. Cool colors mean that the flame derives ambient energy from the outside with a modified heat suction rune- blues and greens. There are exceptions, of course- some people take the time to put color changers in their runes to confuse enemies and such."

Sergeant Roltam takes a large metal plate off the side of his arm-mounted weapons.

"The metal as you can probably tell is Imbued Steel, made with imbued Concepts of Order and Fortitude. Anyways, it's basically a flamethrower, but here it gets pressurized, see that nozzle with the gas tank? That's compressed flammable compounds- the stuff was already easy to burn before they set the Concept of Consumability on it. It lets me shoot a pneumatic burst to fling my lances in my gauntlets, those flaming spears. The luxchemistry in there is a complicated targeting node, lets the device automatically triangulate distances and strength, no need for dials and buttons and whatnot on the outside- I've never been good with those machines myself."

"So you have in here Material Magic, Concept Magic, and Luxchemistry all together?"

"Yup. Thinking about picking up some Status Magic later for another augment."

"Interesting. So you are a multitalented mage, Sergeant?"

"Nah. I'm a dabbling pyromantic mage, I don't know anything about Concepts or Luxchemistry- had to get Netiatono to do the former for me."

Netiatono Vie, over to the side conversing with Alchione, hears his name and stumbles over. As he does so, I note that he now holds several fearsome black glass splinters in his hand- and that his leg has healed completely.

"Did you invoke my name, Roltam?"

"Of course, Netiatono. We were just talking about how my gauntlets work."

Netiatono- the man has an unwieldy name, really. He looks at me, pinching his nose as if he only now recognizes my existence.

"Say, boy, what about my offer? I'm still interested in acquiring a new apprentice."

Tell Vie that Tiven would be interested, but that he is headed to the Shikahu Front. Also ask Vie, the concept mage, about "abstraction soldiers" and about what exactly the attacking being was before leaving.

"Well, Master Vie, I would be interested but I'm heading off towards the Shikahu Front." As Vie, slightly disappointed, shrugs and turns back to Alchione...

Why am I going to the Shikahu Front again? I could just stay here; I'm sure Master Vie's group has plenty of contacts, I could find my dad with his help...

No, I don't need to wait. There's a lead right here, and I'm pursuing it- the leader of those mages must know about my father, and I have to hunt him down to the ends of the world if I must.

"Master Vie! What do you know about Abstraction Soldiers?"

10

Vie turns back towards me, his interest spiking again, as he scrutinizes me; I find myself wondering what he is thinking.

"Where did you hear that term?"

"Uh, the dark mage called my father that, and I've got no idea what he meant."

"...The Abstraction Soldiers are- no, were- an extinct order of the past. They had a grip in every major world government, and agents everywhere, before the Arcanum War started and the Soldiers were eliminated. If the Soldiers still exist as a group, I can't see how- it's been fifteen years since the Dream Banner has been raised and the Soldiers called by their Dreamer."

My dad was some sort of secret society soldier? I can't quite understand the implications of this, though I am slightly unnerved by the idea that I stand on the precipice of some ancient conspiracy.

Tell the entire group (excluding the Sergeant) that Tiven is going to the Shikahu Front (and eagerly accept any suggestions for accompaniment!).

"Well, that settles it. I'm going to the Shikahu Front- I have to find that mage again, and get my father's past out of him. Are any of you coming with me?"

Netiatono looks slightly taken aback as he...

14

...Shrugs and nods. "There's nothing left in this city of the Guild Branch, and the rebuilding isn't my responsibility. I'll send off a magical communications missive, and then I suppose I will follow you, if only to make sure you are not slain. I admit some curiosity about that mage myself, and perhaps... No, I don't think it's possible." He descends into mutterings as I look thoroughly confused. "Well, anyways, I'm coming. Alchione, you're staying here-"

14

"What? No, no I'm not! This is the perfect adventure and I am so coming with you, and you can't say no!" As if to illustrate her point, Alchione petulantly stomps her foot.

"Alchione, what about your mother? Matilbeth will need someone to help fix the shop-"

Look around to find Alchione's mother.

17

And a dark form descends out of the sky, held aloft by huge, light strands- a gigantic dandelion flower's seed, its strands whispering in the night air, deposits Mrs. Matilbeth right at our feet.

"Firstly, I must thank you profusely, Tiven! You saved my daughter and for that I owe you my gratitude, young man!"

"Mrs. Matilbeth-?!"

"Secondly, we're not fixing the shop, so there. I was going to leave this place anyways, what with that horrid new shop next door, and this is perfect in a way, I suppose. Besides, you've already contained all our valuables in your cloak, Nettles."

"My name is Netiatono. Not... Nettles."

"Ah, stuff it up your cloak, Nettles." She turns to Alchione, and for an instant I fear the rebuke of a stern mother-

12

"Alchione! We're going on an adventure, at last! Aren't you glad?" Alchione laughs and hugs her mother, the very face of radiant joy, even as Netiatono looks slightly disapproving of this whole venture.

Sergeant Roltam, behind me, lightly taps my shoulder with his imbued steel gauntlet, and I turn around to hear him tell me...

12

..."Sorry, kid. Can't come with you- As the military leader with jurisdiction over this area, I'll be up to my forehead in paperwork tomorrow. Six shops destroyed, people dead, the Laserwalk almost hijacked, not to mention the spiders and what appears to be a new, unsanctioned magic type- and the news and media are going to be all over this place, too. We have cleanup and damage control, and repairs as well- I'd love to get away from all that, but it'll be my rank for sure."

"I, uh, I guess that's a good reason to stay, sir."

"Yeah, lad. You can go on the Laserwalk if you want, though- I can't legally sanction you, see. Good luck with your pursuit, and make sure Netiatono doesn't smother himself with that cloak of his."

With that, Sergeant Roltam gathers his troops around him and walks off into the shadows of the Laserwalk complex.

Buy more crystal tipped bolts for the crossbow, if there are any available. Look for supplies and then escape on the Laserwalk. If the government has it blocked off, try to sneak past them. There is no way that Tiven is walking.

I briefly consider the purchase of more crystal ammunition for my weapon, or finding more ammunition somehow-

10

But there cannot possibly be shops open for business at this time- indeed, civilians have begun exiting their sleep, roused by fire and sound to partake of a view over this chaos. Nope, definitely not going to be a place to shop for ammo. I do find a few normal iron bolts, slightly used- and by used I mean fired into the ground, probably in the previous battle. Still, it's not like they're bent or anything, so I scuff the dust off them and pick them up.

And as I finish, the chatter around me- Master Vie, Mrs. Matilbeth, and Alchione all seem to be arguing over the merits of different schools of magic, albeit in a light tone- it all dies as I proceed forward to the Laserwalk, intending on finding the truth behind this whole mess.

It is only when the laserwalk has accelerated us to an acceptable degree that I realize how tired I am, with two days' worth of exhaustion held back only by adrenaline and an hour's sleep- no, nap is probably more acceptable.

And with that, my towers of thought collapse as my body finally succumbs to slumber, and I dimly note my head falling in Alchione's lap before sleep and respite take me.

Party's Status:

------

PERSPECTIVE SHIFT

[Party]

As the four of you step off the laserwalk with two newcomers warily following, having already consumed your rations-packs as a breakfast, you are met not with the flat, slightly sandy plains you expected, but rather a large crowd of soldiers- all with weapons prepared, aimed at the Laserwalk's exit.

"What the dark?"

"I must admit, this makes me feel slightly... Exposed."

The soldiers point at you and your group, not relenting- before Sanja's wagon sallies forth, and it becomes obvious you are with the military caravan. Your group is grudgingly allowed through with a feral grin from Sanja, the four of you returning to sit in the back of a wagon, while the other merchants are slowly stripped and searched by the troops.

The two new members of your group nod with grimaces at the scene. "Man, I'm glad we came with you. I would not like to sit there while they went through my toolkit." A slightly burly man wearing a repairman's heavy vest, he hefts a large, simply forged sledgehammer as his foot taps on the floor of the wagon. "Thanks for letting us on."

"Indeed." The only female group member of yours holds a large, elaborately runed rifle on her back, and something about her gaze tells you she can use it. "This expedites our mission quite well. We will not have to wait for a stripsearch to be committed." As you six sit in the slightly crowded wagon bouncing over the sandy crabgrass plains...

Four original members of the party consider their magical breakthroughs while on the Laserwalk.

Spoiler:

Player Status:

Roll #23

Bigkahuna:
I want to learn Movement, and I want to use it to move objects (animate and inanimate) and alter their accelerations, to move molecules in objects/the air violently to create energy/cause friction/interact with objects in their immediate vicinities, and to (if possible) move myself to locations instantaneously.

Movement. Travel. A conduit of dimensions, to go from one place to another, to change the state of location actively. To be somewhere else, somewhere not here, to conduct oneself there through power and will-

As you reconsider your understanding, thankful that you do not have to go through the ordeal of that dark dimension once again after the first time, you experimentally channel your newly held magical ability, seeking to speed the wagon slightly-

19

And as you do so, the wheels speed up, spinning with added impetus, the pulling beasts running faster, your power giving commands to the fabric of space.

You also note that you cannot move, save breathing and necessary functions of the body. Fighting rising panic, you decide to end your channeling and release the Concept. As motion returns to your body, your friends, new and old, look at you and nod- of course, they recognized what you were doing.

"Nice one there. I note you had to hold really still, though. Movement concept still restricted, then?"

"Yeah, might need practice or something- I still can't move whenever I invoke that Concept." You shrug, enjoying feeling your shoulders roll around in their joints, as you wonder why restrictions seem to exist on your usage of Concept Magic.

NEW SKILLS:
Beginner Concept Mage
Concept Comprehension: Movement

NEW TECHNIQUES:
Accel Control: Allows you to change the acceleration of an already-moving object, but only slightly. Your control over direction is quite limited, and using this skill will lock up your motor controls, preventing you from moving as long as you are using the technique.

Transportalization: You have become capable of short-range teleportation. Using two interlocked runes, you may switch your location between the two inscribed objects as long as you are physically holding one and you can see the other one to a close enough degree to trigger the rune (about 20 feet). However, you have not yet decided what two objects you will inscribe your runes on. You may choose to inscribe multiple objects with runes, in order to set up a teleportation net; however, at higher numbers of possible locations there is a chance of another rune misfiring, causing you to teleport to a rune-location that you did not intend to.

Wesfreak:
I guess I'll take basic knowledge in the concept of provenance, with the technique Dispel Hunger. Prepare a few castings of heal. (or of group heal instead, if I have it)

Provenance. The word stems from the same base as provision, as providing- pro, of the wholesomeness. To return that wholesomeness to a system, to bring stability to a damaged loop, to fill hungry bellies, to give without taking.

Provenance is that of restoration, as well, to a degree- though you're aware that Restoration is apparently another concept. Concepts are tangentially aligned, like a huge network, continuously exchanging and interweaving borders without any concrete definition. It is this that you seize on, as you seize on the idea of providing health, of being a giver of life through magic.

Of course, you're not going to be using Concept Magic for the healing thing. You begin drawing lines on your palm with a marking utensil you found, leaving traces of black ink bleeding through microscopic channels in your skin as you meticulously construct the healing circle you have researched-

10

-And your calls come true, and you, holding up a hand without even realizing it, hold a glowing orb of ephemerally green energy, wholesome in its appearance and registering as beneficial to your deepest instincts. It is those same instincts that make you wave your arm in a generous fashion, spreading the emerald light all around the inside of your wagon from a giving palm.

All around you, your party looks revitalized. Of course, there wasn't a need to do that-

"There wasn't a need to do that, Steven."

"Well, yeah, but I felt like I should show off my magic as well, especially considering that our new friends haven't seen us cast spells yet."

"A most fascinating display." Allene speaks. "So it is Material Magic, this- runecraft, to a certain degree, correct."

"Yeah, that's right, Allene. What's those runes on your gun for?" You feel a bit curious- if you could copy those runes on her gun, they might be very interesting to use-

"I'm afraid you can't copy these, if that's what you're thinking. They're Disjuncted Runes- half of their lines are locked in a subdimension, and the runic lines responsible for maintaining that dimension are equally locked inside that dimension- a safe containing its own key and blueprint, so to speak." Allene shrugs. "It's apparently a security device mages use- and we wouldn't want all our military secrets lost as soon as a Rune Artisan takes a look at our equipment."

"I... See." You're somewhat disappointed, but you go back to tinkering with your healing circles, even as you notice the circle on your palm has vanished. Figuring you might need more, you grab a few pieces of paper around you and carefully draw more runes of healing.


JackBarber:

Learn and memorize the runes from the scrolls, and pick up some stones.
Learn the concept of Fortification, and try to use it's powers to raise my defenses, possibly hardening my skeletal structure or skin..

You decided to go off on a slightly deviant branch. Instead of focusing on learning how to convert equations into runes and calculate the equations in the first place, you simply copied the runes from your scroll instead, carefully memorizing them. Why take the long route, right?

You finger a few stones you pocketed before you got on the caravan as you speak to Allene and Mark. "Well, my spells are pretty much all combat spells- so I can't really do much to show you. I can shoot lightning and fire out of my hands, and I can stop my enemies with wind- pity I can't really do anything to prove it."

"Eh, it's okay, buddy. We believe you." Mark's a pretty nice guy, you think. He's been willing to lend you his chisel for drawing runes more than once- you should definitely figure out some method of drawing runes yourself, though. Can't keep asking him for his stuff.

"But I can show you some Concept Magic- Fortification, to be exact."

Fortification- defense, repulsion of foes, an invulnerable bulwark, faithful and trustworthy. Stone and Iron and Earth, unbending, unchanging, immortal protectors and lords of their terresterial dominion. The act of preparing for protecting, the idea of defending something you must protect- the duty and honor. All of these you focus on-

16

As your skin darkens and your veins glow, you grin- before armored plates, stony and rough, the red of canyon granite seen at sunset, carved of strong stone, grow around your form, encasing you in a chrysalis of mineral, before the petals of rock recede in under six seconds, leaving your form looking as human as normal- but small spikes of crystalline constructs emerge around your backbone in a geometric fashion, and your skin is coated with a perfectly-fitting exoskeleton of marbles and granites and other such stones, waving about in a mesmerizing pattern over your form, so that it seems that your entire body has been fused with a mountain's essence.

"Yeah, this thing's a bit heavier than I'm used to, but it'll get better, I think."

You then realize that you're weighing the entire wagon down, and immediately turn off the rune, stone fading into your skin and melting away like paint in the water, returning back to natural, mineral forms in your body.

"And there you have it- Fortification. How's that?"

"... James, that was very impressive."

"Why, thank you." You grin. "Oranen, your turn!"

NEW SKILLS:
Basic Concept Magic
Concept Comprehension: Fortification
Basic Material Magic
Special Comprehension: Rune Artistry: You have a much easier time copying runes than coming up with new ones. This allows you great flexibility in the short run, and in the long run you may find yourself inventing theoretical runes for other dimensions. Rune Artistry means that you are able to copy runes that are not protected by Disjunction.

NEW TECHNIQUES:
Mineral Skin: You call forth stored minerals in your body, building a resilient skin around yourself.

XxOriginxX:

Study and memorize one of the runes inside my pyromancy book, one for a basic direct attack with fire, sort of like Rune Artistry.

"What do you mean it's my turn? I can't show off anything in here, you know that."

Mark looks curious. "Why not, Oranen?"

"Well, I'll just say that I deal in fire. Lots and lots of fire. Wish I could show it off, but, well, now's not the place or time."

"...I see."

NEW SKILLS:
Basic Material Magic
Manteia Comprehension: Pyromancy

NEW TECHNIQUES:
Multiform Fire: Allows you to control fire, mental links allowing you to forge its shape, whether into a blazing projectile, an orbiting ring, or as a fiery glove for a sword or fist. A versatile pyromantic ability, and the most basic- but it does not create any fire for you directly, and you must use any fire around you.
Flame Strike: Summons a bolt of fire, moving in a single straight line at a constant speed, to strike enemies with. It's the most straightforward of the pyromantic attacks, both in execution... And appearance.

Wesfreak:
Ask someone important-looking why the military checkpoint has been set up, and what all the soldiers are expecting and take up a position in the back of the group of soldiers with my weapon facing at the lazerwalk..

Bigkahuna:
Ask where we're headed. Keep an eye out for trouble.

You call out to Sanja, figuring that she probably knows the most about what's going on, and as she stops the caravan she turns around to speak with the six of you.

"Well, what do you want?"

"What's really going on over there? Who are they trying to hunt down?"

"All of us got a memo, there's apparently some cult with spiders or something that attacked Atelello. Lucky we got out soon- they apparently jumped on the Laserwalk as well, and now everyone's getting searched."

"What?! Atelello got attacked?!" You can hardly contain your shock at this- and spiders? After that huge crystal spider in the bandits' passage- it can't be a coincidence, you feel.

"Yeah, they hit a magic store, a weapons store, a herbal shop, the Guild of Mentia Exalt's branch- Why do you guys suddenly look so guilty all of a sudden?"

"Well, it's probably because-"

Before you can relate your hypothesis, everything explodes.

A huge black crystal erupts through the wagon's floor, Sanja's horse tossing her back as the mineral spike itself explodes into spikes, tearing the wagon apart, sending you each flying out of it- and all you can think about is how difficult it was for you to get those extra wheels.

As you groggily stand, you see besides you Allene, who you help to her feet as well. Looking around, you find yourself standing on the edge of a crater from the center of which that black crystal stands. And as the sound of screaming-

Aw, dark-damned no. Damn.

Crystal detonations pierce through the crowd as the hissing of spiders is heard over the din of pain- and human figures are sent flying into the sky, their silhouettes torn apart in midair by feasting tendrils of liquid shadow, blood raining down over the sandy grasses. A methodical slaughter proceeds, as unfortunate soldiers are pinned by streams of net before being eviscerated by razor-sharp ink- tendrils all stemming from a single character, standing in the center of the devastation ten feet above the ground, thousands of small streams of a dark tar-like liquid around him, seemingly drinking the light of the sun in ominous fashion, suspending him from the earth's surface.

Besides you, Sanja leaps to her feet and hoists her Halberd-

"WAVY WINGS!"

As Sanja waves her weapon with a piercing cry, a huge spread of light bursts forth, streaking across the battlefield to intercept inky tentacles. As the severed strands collapse and crystallize into glass, shattering upon contact with the ground, the man suspended by his myriad tendrils falters and falls for a second-

Before more tendrils sproud from his form, like cursed roots of a blighted tree, anchoring himself to his form. With perfect silence through the screaming all around and the bloodshed, he glides forward on the dark liquid limbs, streaking towards us with the motion of a wave in water- with obviously murderous intention. As the remaining spiders surge forth, Sanja meets them in combat, slaying many with a single sweep of her sable weapon, holding back a wave of destruction-

"You guys'll have to deal with this mage!"

Well, at least you have Sanja's vote of confidence.

Behind the seething arachnid swarms and the branches of ink, You see people departing the laserwalk, a group charging into the fray, two teenagers and two adults, one wearing clothes of strange colors-

The teenagers split to help Sanja suppress the spiders; one of the adult forms- an old woman, garbed in jade green- turns aside to begin tending to the wounded, as the last new arrival, wielding twin scimitars and a strange, multicolored cloak-

The cloak! That has to be... Netiatono Vie, Mage of Many Colors?

How did he get here? How-

Your ruminations are cut short as you leap aside, a tendril of ink stabbing the location you were in. Besides you, you see that your friends are faring little better, weaving this way and that to avoid a veritable forest of lashing strikes from the ground.

Before you, the looming shadow blots out the sun-

Until another sun appears, a fiery bolt that strikes the sphere of ink surrounding the mage inside, shattering part of his defense into glassy shards, raining down on the battlefield like fey dust, glittering in the sunlight- Netiatono has flown into the air and now confronts the enemy in close, wielding his dual scimitars with an alacrity almost enchanting in their precision.

Combat is everywhere, and your enemy is rather obvious at this point.

What do you do? How do you proceed with the combat plans- and how do you plan to actually damage the mage, still suspended in the air beyond melee reach, connected to the earth with suspensory tendrils of black liquid?

Player Status:

Roll #24

ShadoWKilleR:
"Is it like this every time?"

johnratchet3:
"You lot are bad luck or something..."

JackBarber:
Look over to Mark for a second, "You knew this was going to be a war didn't you?"

Mark and Allene don't seem convinced, much to your frustration. As the two split, one charging towards the mage and the other preparing her rifle, you sigh and pull out a bottle of alcohol, beginning to formulate a plan, even as you see Netiatono's attack repulsed, his cloak pierced by several dozen black crystal spears, pinning him to the ground as Tiven, Alchione, and Matilbeth move to cover him. Looks like he isn't going to be much of a help for the next minute or so.

---

JackBarber:
Throw the bottle of alcohol at the Dark Mage, and use a fire scroll once/if some of the alcohol splashes onto the sphere of inky goo.

Unplugging your alcohol bottle, you sigh a mental farewell at the drink, before you heft it with all your strength and fling it-

1

But as you launch the bottle through the air, to your dismay, a lance of black glass shatters the relatively weaker glass of the alcohol bottle. The contents splash to the ground, your efforts at providing a stronger incendiary source wasted- not to mention the drinking opportunities that it provided too. You mutter a small curse.

Doesn't stop you from using your fire scroll though.

18

As a wave of ink rushes through the ground, shredding the grass and sand in an attempt to reach you, you pull out the short-range fire spell and incant it-

An explosion of fire emerges before you, shattering the wave before you into glass- and as you watch, the fire spreads, passed on by the dry grass, until the entire field is smouldering. Tendrils around you recede as their anchoring points are covered by fire, and with no place to put themselves back down the ink recedes back to its master's sphere of influence.

You think you just bought a bit of time for your friends- and to great effect as well, as you see Mark taking advantage of the opening to charge forward and begin laying waste to the inky roots.

---

johnratchet3:
Fight my way to the base of the mage's tendrils, and attempt to cripple them with my hammer. Ensure I don't try this at the same time Wesfreak makes his attack (assuming he does).

13
You charge forth under cover thanks to James's action, leaping through fire around you. You're used to hot situations, so to speak- you've been in enough forges, after all.

With your hammer you begin smashing anchoring tendrils, providing just enough of a distraction so that Jonathan is not intercepted by the tendrils lancing after him. It seems that, despite the many capabilities this mage possesses, like any mortal, multitasking in combat is a difficult proposition to carry out.

As you continue to destroy the mage's anchorings, Oranen emerges at your side, slashing away at the tendrils with his prism sword. Together, you provide a great nuisance for the mage, whose attempts at stabbing you from above all fail.

It's something of a surprise, then, when the mage is blasted out of his ink shield above you.

---

Bigkahuna:
Pick up two rocks and inscribe Symbols on them to be used for Teleportalization. The symbols will be in the form of smiley faces: [ e.g. =) ] unless another is specifically needed.

ShadoWKilleR
Cover Johnathan from any lunging tendrils, if he seems safe enough without my covering fire attack fire on the mage directly.

As Jonathan reaches down, twisting aside from rows of spiking tendrils trying to core out his guts-

"Allene! Cover me!"

You see him reach down to grab some rocks from the ground and begin applying the dagger end of his cryspistol to them. You're wondering what he's up to, but you really don't have the time to consider.

The rules of sniping are to lock onto a target. Load, fire- and be precise. Do not waver in your focus, for you have only a straight line as a vector towards your target. Know all aspects of your scenario. So many rules go through your head- entrenchment, concealment, moving around to avoid detection-

You're breaking so many rules by just shooting from the hip you don't even know what your old instructors would say. Then again, you were never much for those rules in the first place.

Six Bullet Bolts, loaded with compression-detonation crystal fuel rods in the core, lined on the outside with energy conducting crystal fibers to avoid premature detonation, forged from a metal-crystal alloy designed for maximum shrapnel damage, go into your rifle's chambers.

BANG BANG BANG

1+2
2+2
1+2

Your first three shots are fired off, and you recognize why your instructors stressed the issue of preparation and readiness. Having sacrificed precision, your shots hit around Jonathan in a circle, creating a central core of light around him, nearly blinding him- and you think you see shrapnel from the detonated projectiles hit him in the hand and left shoulder. He leaps back with something of a howling- and abruptly vanishes from inside the circle of light. He reappears atop a hill and fires off a few shots- before quickly vanishing again. You're not sure what it is he's doing, but it seems he's mobile enough not to need your coverage for now.

You notice that the black inky tendrils that have penetrated into the area of impact have all been transformed into immovable crystal. With that in mind, you decide-

It's probably a better idea to aim for the root.

BANG BANG BANG

6+2
20+2 OVERLIMIT CRITICAL
17+2

Your first shot, heading for that seething mass of black fluid, is easily blocked by a tendril of shadow, a solidly clawed arm forming around the projectile, swatting it out of the air almost contemptuously, as you hear a whisper seemingly from above and behind and besides you-

"You'll have to do better than th- GAAAAAAH!"

Your second bullet shuts him up.

Entering Battletrance

As a solid wave, a tsunami of gnashing teeth and raging blades, crystalline edges in pure black color everywhere rises around you, seeking to shred your form and end your existence-

You execute a perfect backflip over the mass of crystal, and fire off a shot as you twist in midair, putting a peculiar whirl on your rifle's barrel through your acrobatic movements-

And as another clawed hand emerges from the spherical defense, you find that your shot hits true, the torsion forces drilling through ink and crystal without resistance, piercing through the shield, creating a large hole by sheer dint of the aerodynamic vortex following your projectile's trail.

You spin to the ground, contemptuously severing the black ink you had just flipped over with a slash of your knives, causing a veritable wall of black glass to fall to the ground and shatter, even as with your other hand you shoot off another bullet.

The last projectile of yours flies true, entering, almost sucked in by the spinning air, following through the passageway you made with your previous assault-

The mage flies out from the other side, his head a gored mass after being impacted by your last bolt, hood shorn to bits and mask shattered to pieces. Black spirals of blood stream out from a shattered head as he is pushed out of his shield, bare tendrils of black material retaining an attachment to the sphere of ink. You think you see Steven pursuing him, somehow getting a grip on the air itself to pierce through the liquid sphere and strike the enemy.

Somehow, the guy managed to get ahold of Jonathan during the time, and your attack was apparently enough to prevent your new friend from getting skewered. You breathe a sigh of relief, thankful that the battle is over, as Mark and James look in your direction quizzically-

"Not enough, little girl, not enough!"

13

As you reflexively duck to avoid a wave of razor-sharp black crystal needles, which soar above your head, you find it difficult to react.

He's still alive.

He's STILL ALIVE!

YOU TOOK HIS HEAD OFF! You hit him in the brain, shattered his skull, and there's nothing left of it but an upper jaw and a lower one-

HOW IS HE STILL ALIVE?!?

---

JackBarber:
Turn back towards the Dark Mage and place my hands on the ground, writing some runes of slowing and using them to slow the Dark Mage, and possibly to slow Wesfreak as he falls back to the ground.

Bigkahuna:
If Wesfreak wants to utilize his running jump, use Accel Control to accelerate his speed. Use Accel Control to slow his speed after he makes it.

Wesfreak:
If I see a moment of opportunity where the shield is down, make a running jump at the black mage, slicing through him with my sword as I fly passed. If there is no opportunity where his shield is down, then help johnratchet3 cut by cutting through the tentacles that support him.

Of everyone moving to attack the enemy, only you find yourself in a place to take advantage of Allene's attack. The enemy's gate is down, so to speak- and you leap into the air.

You feel around you the air solidifying and nod at James, recognizing his usage of Aeromantic Slowing- the tendrils move too slowly to block you, and by pushing up against the relatively solid air you actually manage to climb up, with the impetus of your jump, all the way above the black ink sphere.

12

You leap, aiming for the cloaked mage, with a strike designed to bisect both his sphere of ink and his torso. You slash the mass of ink open, the two crystalline halves falling open around you, as you charge through and pursue the mage, recognizing that he was pushed out of his defense by Allene. As the entire structure of ink begins to regenerate, the mage himself is suspended before you-

He blocks your prism sword with a solid, black crystal edge of his own, sprouting directly from his fingertips-

His blade breaks into flexible splinters and proceeds to wrap itself around your prism sword, seeking to divest you of your weapon-

19

You activate the instant extension function of your blade instead, and as three more feet of solid killing light emerge out of its tip the enemy mage recedes back too late to respond-

And he finds his arm shattered, a blade piercing through his shoulder, bone shredded and cored around your blade now sheathed by your enemy's flesh. With a magnificent heave, you pull out your blade with a sweeping motion, sending splatters of ink everywhere, as Oranen from below watches in awe.

You land on the ground beneath the enemy- surely he is slain from sheer bloodloss by now?- as you anticipate Oranen shooting a blast of fire to finish off the mage once and for all.

Instead, you see Oranen somehow trapped inside an ink prison by the mage, while Jonathan is sprawled besides you. Retracting your heavier blade into its compacted form, you heft it in preparation for another onslaught as-

What is that mage DOING!?

---

Bigkahuna:

NEW TECHNIQUE: BOB-AND-WEAVE SHOOTING
Keep one of my tele-symbols in my hand, and throw the other one in a random direction in a 10-foot radius from my target. Use the technique Teleportalization. Immediately shoot my target with my Cryspistol, pick up the tele-symbol, and repeat.

Use the technique Bob & Weave Shooting to attack the mage, refraining from firing while Wesfreak is doing his running jump.

Allene wasn't careful enough then, and the damage from her shots afflicted you even as it provided that cover you needed. You find yourself crippled in the left hand and shoulder, hard crystal pieces refusing to break or sublimate, embedded into the cracks between your bones. Extricating them will be a pain, and probably not possible without some sort of magic, you surmise.

You leap through the nothingness again, avoiding a bullet as you follow the trajectory of your stone instantly, moving between two points in space. Without the ability to scoop up your Teleportal Stone using your non-shooting hand, you can only kick it as far as it can go, lest you drop your gun in the process.

8

As you kick your stone as far from you as you can, you launch another volley of shots with your good hand, dodging lashing tendrils that consistently try to bisect you. Thankfully, it hasn't happened yet- though you also find that your attacks are making little more effect than as a distraction, the small bullets easily blocked by the enemy's shield.

This can't keep happening!

As you kick your stone once more through the air, preparing to follow it, Steven yells at you-

"Accel Control! Speed me up, Jonathan!"

You pull on your control over Movement, staggering your own kick as you see Steven's attack multiply in speed-

4

But your stunted kick was your undoing.

A tendril spikes through the air- towards your Teleportal Stone, moving slower than it should have- and before you can recognize what is happening, the stone's path is changed, flung vertically through the air towards the dark mage's central core.

And so it is that, without considering, you are pulled through space to emerge elevated to the same level as your enemy and only a few feet away from the inky surface of his bubble. You barely note a clawed hand emerge from the opposite side of the sphere, blocking a bolt from Allene, as you scramble to figure out what to do in this situation-

1

-and as you flail for your prism sword, a tendril wraps itself around you while another one catches your falling Teleportalization Stone.

Oh. Oh dear.

"So it is you. I can sense the items on you. Then we will need no more of this-"

And the tendril convulses around your stone even as you are pulled away from it. The bubble of dark ink opens to admit you inside, creating a separate partition for you, enclosing your form, as you see the mage beginning to break apart your anchoring stone-

Steven seemingly appears out of nowhere to deal a savage strike to the enemy, granting you just enough time to make a move-

13

At this point, you find your prism sword.

One slash is all you need to burst out of your crystalline prison, ink turning to glass at the touch of your blade's light. You hack your way out, leaping just quickly enough to sever the tendril holding your Teleportal Stone, allowing your item to fall to the ground. You prepare to exchange positions in order to escape from the mage's grasp-

"John! I've got your rune stone!"

Beneath you, you see Oranen take a break from hacking away at the liquid tentacles on the ground to catch your Teleportal Stone.

"Wh- ORANEN!"

But it is too late to seal your magic, and as Movement takes you-

You find yourself sprawled on the ground as two things happen.

One, Oranen is now trapped inside the same ink sphere as you were before, captured- and he, unlike you, can't utilize the Teleportal Stones.

Two, the Dark Mage's head explodes. You're relieved for a moment before a dark maw of the ink-blood forms to replace a mangled head, and he laughs once again at Allene before sending a wave of crystal needles her way-

What just happened?!?

------

As Steven looks up along with Jonathan, the mage... Shreds himself.

That's the only way they can think of to express what he does-

Blood vessels bulge in stark darkness as the mage pulls off the remnants of his torn cloak, as a solid vortex of ink appears around him- the fluid is sucked back into his body as the vessels expand even more-

And the mage's hands and arms explode, flesh and bone shearing to nothing but shreds under the sun as-

As he pulls his very circulation system out of his body with his own hands, ripping skin and meat- and yet not spilling a drop of blood, in a dry maneuver. A pulsing heart emerges as the ribcage is sublimated, and as the body's bone and flesh is slowly destroyed, the ground beneath begins to smell foul and reek of unspoken things, organs' fluids mixing to create unspeakable stenches.

The ambulatory circulatory system, having by now descended to the ground with nothing to support it, steps out of the mass of skin and bone as if shedding an old suit of clothing- and the heart, blackened, twisted, chambers flexing with muscles unrecognized, a shape not like any natural heart...

You all recognize it with a shudder. An Inkheart.

The Inkheart opens one crimson eye nestled in the center of its aorta, a glassy orb much like the compound eye of an insect, and looks around at the horror all around it.

"So it is that you are more powerful than I suspected. I suppose that to interfere with us you must have some skill indeed."

Above this pulsing mass of veins and arteries, blood vessels coalesced together into a solid form, one last ink tendril still holds Oranen above the ground, trapped in a spherical prison of solid inkblood, spikes penetrating into his flesh ready to rend him to pieces in an instant. Already, he bleeds slightly, and continually convulses in pain. It's a sad sight to watch.

"Such skilled bodies are quite useful for us. Surrender yourselves and I shall release your friend-"

Behind us, the bodies of fallen Raitali soldiers and slain crystal spiders begin to stir. Dead eyes open as the crimson compound eyes, and wounds drip with black fluid, a disgusting sight-

"You see, you are outnumbered. The Reanimated are many and they do not tire or die. Surrender your fleshly forms to the transcendence of the Ink, and deliver to us your stolen artifac- GAAAH!"

Two flaming scimitars emerge from behind the Inkheart's core, stabbing through the strange creature's shoulders, angled to bisect in an instant- as Netiatono's cloak flares behind the dark form.

"What, did you forget that I was here? Tut tut. None should ever forget that the Mage of Many Colors is present, lest they find themselves in such a condition as you, pitiful monster!"

The hordes of reanimated corpses halt with this new development, as Tiven walks over and points his crossbow straight at the Inkheart.

"So, you... Thing. Inkheart. Well, we've got you in a deadlock- and you are going to tell me all about my father, Saneferu, right here." Tiven's face is scrunched up with sweat as he holds his target at swordpoint at last.

"You know you're not in a position to bargain. When I die, so does your friend, above the ground in the ink cage of mine- and all the Reanimated will attack. You will be slain- unless you do as I command."

"Hey, stupid little heart thing? Scimitars right besides you. Take a nice look- Scimitars of Severance. You're the one who's in the worst position here." Sanja now points her halberd, covered in the blood and juices of dead spiders, at the Inkheart. "My halberd isn't too weak on the whole penetrating thing either."

"So it come to this? A standstill, then."

And so it goes- everyone has a hold on someone else, and unless something happens...

What do you do?

Spoiler:

Player Status:

NPC Party's Status:

Roll #25

Wesfreak:
If there are enough plants (or other nonsentient lifeforms) around, heal everyone in our group and the npc group that needs it. (giving people in our group priority).

There's definitely abundant wildlife- reaching out, you can read, of course, the grass and insects beneath your feet, stretching to the horizon with no need to hunt down further fuel. Pulling their power from their forms, you see the grass turn slightly brown for twenty feet around you as you once more sprinkle revitalizing energies over all your allies. Matilbeth frowns slightly in response.

---

Bigkahuna:
Tell the mage that we will listen to his demands, but he must tell us some information himself.

Johnratchet3:
Speak to the inkheart and say "We may be outnumbered, but if we wish to compare some more, then it is you who is out-skilled. Undead aren't particularly intelligent in their recklessness, and the scimitars poised to kill don't help you greatly either. Besides a thoroughly unreasonable surrender, what do you want from us? What can you provide as compensation? And please don't say our lives."

With the standoff, conversation finally opens, an opportunity for both sides to probe their enemy's defenses.

Mark speaks first.

"We may be outnumbered, but if we wish to compare some more, then it is you who is out-skilled. Undead aren't particularly intelligent in their recklessness, and the scimitars poised to kill don't help you greatly either. Besides a thoroughly unreasonable surrender, what do you want from us? What can you provide as compensation?"

Jonathan cuts in. "So as you can tell, we expect diplomatic discourse. We'll listen to your demands-"

"-And please don't demand our lives, that just kills the whole point of this discussion." Mark coughs. "Uh, bad choice of words there, but you get the point."

"Your lives are already forfeit for opposing our will. I will spare you, but you will not be spared on a larger scale. There are forces greater than your comprehension at work here, and you will not be noticed in all this. I will make it clear now that, by my power or another's, you will be ended. It is inevitable."

Jonathan shrugs. "So you're saying you won't demand our deaths for now?"

"...Proceed with your meaningless queries, lest I become tired and end this."

---

Bigkahuna:
Talk to the mage (in this order) about his motives, the 'artifacts', Senaferu, the Abstraction Soldiers, and the Inkheart mages themselves. Tell him to stop hurting Oranen or we'll retaliate (we still have some leverage here). If he refrains from agreeing to my one initial demand, perhaps threaten to destroy his artifacts.

"First. Your motives are-"

"Have I not made them clear enough yet? I have been trying so awfully hard to kill you six, I'd think it a slight to my honor if you were to feign ignorance of my goals."

"Well, yeah, but why us? I mean, yeah we smashed a bandit outpost and took some magic items, but those things are hardly powerful at all. What's the deal here?"

"And why should I tell you- Agh!"

The scimitars heat up again for an instant, and blood crystallizes- no, it evaporates after crystallization, solid material vaporized in a flash-fire.

"...Well, I shall tell you this..."

3

"...Since you're already dead men, you might as well know that we will hunt you to the end of the world. You have challenged one of our holdings and damaged our organization, and you will suffer for it."

He's hiding something. You're sure of it.

"Okay, next question- where and what exactly are the Abstraction Soldiers, and who is Saneferu?"

"So, you know of those who follow the Dream Banner as well?.."

8

"...Open your eyes, mortal fool. Do you really think that we and the Soldiers are the only secret orders, or that diplomacy can be broken up so evenly into complete antagonism and solid alliances? The Soldiers are powerful and we have sought information on them, but they are not our enemies or allies. Are they yours? No, they cannot be."

"Uh..."

"Do you even know who holds the Dream Banner now? Do you know what the Soldiers are doing? Do you even know what Saneferu looks like?"

Tiven leaps in at this point. "He's six feet tall with brown hair! He's my father, of course I know his face!"

"...Bluffing me will not yield any more information, fool boy, and whatever data you have is most certainly suspect. I will say no more on this- to your next question- and be aware that I will ask my own questions when the time comes."

"...Who are you?"

6

"I am an Inkheart. If you wish for the name of our group or my employer, I'm afraid I'm not so foolish as to leave an incriminating trail."

Yeah, you expected as much. Just one last thing, then.

"And finally- You will release Oranen and you will cease this torment of him. You will retract your blades and spikes from his form, or we will retaliate."

17

"...Acceptable. But I don't think I'll go so far as to release him. Leverage is useful, wouldn't you say, mage with the swords next to my core?"

Netiatono Vie doesn't move so much as an eyebrow. With some sort of mental sigh, the Inkheart lowers the strand of ink to the ground, crystallizing it into a solid prison even as he retracts the penetrating spikes and severs his own connection to the prison.

"As you can see, he is now not under pain. Do not attempt to enter the cage or to break him free, for I assure you that my responses are faster than that."

"..."

---

Wesfreak:
Agree to listen to the Inkheart's demands, and off him the following deal: he can leave without further harm if he releases Origin and tells us everything Tiven wants to know.

The creature's single compound eye blinks slowly before it speaks again with that mouthless voice.

"And now it is my turn. Who are you meddlers?"

"We're, uh, traveling blades. We don't really have a group, so sorry if you thought we were friends with the Abstraction Soldiers or whatever."

19

"...I sense no deception in your blood. So why then did you slaughter our commissioned mercenary force?"

"They were stealing from nearby towns as well as military caravans- they even sniped our caravan's wheels-"

"False. That mercenary force was contracted only to steal from the nearest road, and that was certainly not the one you traveled on. The incident in the newspaper was their cause. Your wheel was not ours and was likely an outside force."

"And you could be easily lying-"

"Don't skimp on my queries, mortal. What were your intentions in slaughtering a previously neutral party in your schemes?"

"Well, they killed people and stole things! You guys stole things too, and you killed people in Atelello!" Tiven pushes forth his blade and crossbow at the heart once more, the edge of the blade touching the heart right underneath the red eye, his mouth bending to show bare teeth in a feral snarl. "And you have the gall to call US murderers?"

"How fascinating. Would you like me to tell you the various crimes of the men we killed in Atelello? The weapons shopkeeper- the Classic Forge, I believe? He provided military secrets to Arsene and Hethasila, and smuggled weapons to enemy countries, not to mention being the ringleader in the local mafia, oppressing shopkeepers."

"That doesn't give you the right to-" Tiven chokes as he is cut off by the Inkheart's continued words.

"The Bibliography acquired its scrolls from unverified sources- not the Circle Tower, as the advertisements would have you believe. Chances are that the runes have not been sealed properly and will cause permanent damage to a caster's soul if he keeps buying flawed runes. The small vender was in fact a thief who murdered people that he scoped out by checking their wares. The Guild of Mentia Exalt... Well, you'll find out sooner or later. They're not even trying to cover it up, you know."

"What?"

Netiatono simply retains his stony visage.

"As it happens, we didn't intend on damaging the Library, Medicine store, or Herbal store, but in the end we only got away with the library. What was a clandestine operation failed when our operative found a certain Fytevomancer in one of the targets."

"What, my mom?" Alchione looks back at Mrs. Matilbeth. "Well, you were trying to burn down our store!"

"False. Your mother opened her first assault- and just as well. We recognized her from the moment she looked outside at us."

"Wha-"

"Marya the Dreadvine. Maker of a thousand poisons. The Myriad Weave must miss one of their greatest and most loyal servants since she went into hiding, no?"

"..."

At this point, you think you really need to step in again. "Okay, now you're really pushing it. I can see the Classic Forge being a front for smuggling, but Mrs. Matilbeth? You've gotta be kidding me here. I don't believe a word you said. Jonathan, James, aren't I right? Allene, Mark, you haven't met Mrs. Matilbeth but trust me on this she isn't a killer or whatever this thing is saying."

"Believe what you want- but we are both parties of war and death. We've each killed our own share- and now I demand that you give me your stolen artifacts."

"Alternatively, you tell us everything Tiven wants to know, and release Oranen, and we might let you live yet."

"...You really don't know who Tiven is, do you? If you did you would recognize the folly of your request. Then my counteroffer: I will release your friend and you will give me your stolen artifacts. We can then leave without ado or combat, and I shall allow my hordes to fall lifeless once more when the deal is sealed and you release your blades. This is my ultimatum and any other demands you make shall be met with battle and death."

---

Shadowkiller
If he is cooperative and not attacking:
> Search for anything that looks like a weak point in his defenses and on him.

9

...Well, there's his heart, that's for sure. Nothing else really looks like a weak point, though you're not sure if the heart's a critical point anyways. What if his consciousness is located in the blood or something? Then you'd have to kill everything, and that wouldn't work at all...

You cease your ruminations. Heart, definitely heart- and if it's not you can't do anything about it.

------

The creature turns its piercing eye towards Tiven.

"Progenitor and Inheritor. If you would so graciously come with me once we have completed this event, I will assure you that we mean you no harm, and that you may bring with you as many honored guests as you would wish, whether for defense or company. The information you seek may be relayed to you and only to you."

"Yeah, sure. I'll definitely do that because there's no reason for me not to, right? It's not like you guys are abominations and insults to nature anyways."

"...We have some information on your father, and I offer to share it freely. I would highly suggest that Alchione be made privy to this information as well."

At that, Tiven looks a bit undecided.

"...You guys aren't going to try and turn me to the dark side or something, right? I mean, I don't quite think I'm naive enough to fall for that classic trap."

"Would we dare with you, Progenitor and Inheritor? Do you not wish to learn the meaning of your title?"

As Tiven looks at Alchione, who simply looks confused, the rest of you debate the meaning of these revelations.

How do you react to the Inkheart's allegations? What do you do about the final ultimatum? What do you say to Tiven, Matilbeth, or any of the other people present?

------

VOTING.

Will you accept the ultimatum the Inkheart has put forth? A YES or NO will suffice- if you haven't posted a combat action in case you decide not to accept it, then this is the time.

Roll #26

Johnratchet3:
Show some respect towards the inkheart in speech. Its conversing seems mature, and highly logical/straightforward.

JackBarber:
Give a piercing gaze into the Inkheart's eye, humming curiously and somewhat dis-approvingly.

The two of you incline your heads towards the creature, for altogether different purposes and opinions. It, as usual, completely ignores this newfound attention from two 'mere mortals'.

---

Shadowkiller:
Join the group and holster the sniper rifle.

"So we will not be slaying this creature?"

Mark shakes his head. "He has some good points to make, and I don't quite think we were as justified as we thought. Maybe you should listen, too?"

---

Wesfreak:
"We may be but travelling blades, but it is bellow us to rob from the dead. We gave the bandit leader a proper burial without touching his equipment."

12

"Your words are so convincing, and the promise of another intrigue unfolding is ever so tempting. If only you weren't lying."

"I'm-"

"You never found the body, did you? A foolish oversight. Wise killers know that in their act they must be thorough, and you certainly were not. Torly Sarmo returned to us alive and reported on you- and so we knew that it was you who committed the unprecipitated deed."

"Torly... Sarmo? That the bandit guy's name?"

"By the by, that same bandit leader has sworn vengeance on you after we equipped him with an eyepatch, some clothes, and new prosthetics to replace his limbs damaged and twisted by the torsion of his metal equipment. He's quite irritating in all honesty with the fervent bluster he keeps spouting- but he does seem rather... Focused."

"That's great to know. Why are you telling us this?"

"Consider it a goodwill gift of intelligence. Perhaps we can open more cordial states of communication once you return the equipment?"

You look towards Jonathan, who seems to be grudgingly unpacking his cloths and wrappings to retrieve the mangled items.

---

Wesfreak:
Ask why the mage wants the greaves if he sees past the ruse.

Bigkahuna:
Then ask the mage why he wants the equipment, and hand it to him at the same time Oranen is let free. Make sure Oranen is healed and safely brought back to our group, also taking the tele-symbol.

JackBarber:
Ask the Inkheart "Why exactly are these gauntlets so important to you...?".

The three of you let loose with the same questions all at once, as Netiatono retracts his blades from the Inkheart's body. The Inkheart, true to his word, allows his crystal prison to fall into dust, and Oranen is caught by Alchione and Matilbeth who together begin administering potions and draughts.

You all still feel a bit suspicious of Matilbeth, but you have the good sense to avert your gaze. She and her daughter are busy tending to an unconscious Oranen.

The horde of reanimated fall down once more- and now that their clamoring masses are returned as but corpses, you notice for the first time how truly alone you are. Everyone is dead or fled but you, leaving only your group, Tiven, Alchione, Netiatono, and Matilbeth, as well as the Inkheart as an obvious matter.

...Wait, where's Sanja? As you are about to ask, the Inkheart, having upheld its end of the bargain, knots itself ino a digitigrade form and cuts into your words with a response of its own.

4

"Perhaps we of our group simply have a sense of martial honor and pride? Is it wrong to redress a grievance through honorable combat?"

"Well, besides whether it was honorable or not, you-"

"Tsk tsk. You mortals must learn to respect another party's secrets, if you ever wish to accomplish anything through diplomacy. Or do you prefer that we fight this out with blood and blade?"

"...Okay, we got the hint. We'll stop asking."

---

Wesfreak:
Ask Matilbeth and Netatiano what in the world their accusations meant, ask about Alchione, and forgive Netatiano for the moment and ask him if he can teach me Concept Magic now that I actually have a chance to put myself under his apprenticeship.

You walk carefully over to Matilbeth, being sure to avoid stepping on any of the stray glass shards.

"Mrs. Matilbeth? What that thing said was all lies, I'm sure, but..."

The old mother looks at you almost sadly.

"You don't mean to say that you believe the thing's words?"

"Uh... Were there any truths in the thing's words?"

She fixes you with a strong, steely glance, without blinking, dropping Oranen's arm in her focus so that Alchione, staggering, supports your friend all on her lonesome-

"It was all lies."

Netiatono now shows up next to you. "I'll second that statement. Marya has never done such a thing, as far as I know- and I've known her and Alchione a good long time."

"About that- what about you?"

"Ah, of course. Obviously, you wouldn't trust my testimony, either, since I was also indicted, no?" He strokes his goatee. "The Inkheart did tell you that whatever we were doing, we weren't even trying to hide it. If that's so, why don't you go find out for yourself?"

"Or I could just ask you and figure out now-"

"...Perhaps you need to learn a lesson on respecting the secrets of other clans, as the Inkheart has said. Cease your provocative questioning."

"I- I didn't mean to offend, Master Vie. I still have some interest in learning from you, and now that the issues have been resolved I find myself with further opportunities in the form of time-"

13

"We'll see when we arrive at a Tower of the Red Gaze. Perhaps I will reserve one of the meditation chambers for teaching purposes, but I will not promise you more than that."

Your requests not quite refuted but not quite accepted, you turn to listen as Jonathan and Allene begin conversing with Tiven.

---

Bigkahuna/Shadowkiller: Suggest Tiven to go with the mage to learn about his father, and then also suggest him to tell the mage that he will bring all of us under his protection to learn about his father, since the mage respects Tiven so much and insisted that he could bring guests.

Tiven shrugs after you make your statement. "I suppose you're right- and really I don't trust this guy. He's creepy, if nothing else..."

But his reticence leaves something lacking in his words. "Is there something wrong, Tiven?"

"...I don't know. It's just that, well, when my father left all this stuff happened- and now I find myself fighting crazy monster things and being chased by spiders, and it's just... Well, I get the feeling that I'll never be able to go back to my old life even if I find my father. There's crazy secret cults running around, and it's all overwhelming."

Allene nods. "I understand the feeling. Don't worry, though- you'll have us to help if trouble ever rises."

"Yeah, that's right- I'm not alone. I have you and Alchione!"

You and Alchione? Looks like the kid's got a crush on someone. Whatever. Let the lad do what he wants, you think. It's really not your business at all.

---

JackBarber:
Ask about the corrupted runes I memorized from the scrolls and perhaps ask what corrections might need to be made to them.

Netiatono Vie shrugs. "I'm no Material Mage. Roltam would definitely know what was wrong at a glance, though, but he isn't here."

9

The Inkheart but laughs. "What more do you ask for, that you wish for repair to your illicit wares? The runes are ruined and discardable, and that is all I believe you need to know. Perhaps you should abandon the hoarding mindset of an adventurer? It may do you good in a long run."

Shadowkiller:
"Sorry for the headshot haha...".

"Yes, I do feel sorry for whoever my host was."

"...Wait, the guy was alive- YOU weren't controlling-"

"It is but a host after all- a mortal, like you. Hardly worthy of attention."

"That's... I don't even have words."

You turn around, feeling slightly sick, as you see Netiatono working some sort of magic with his cloak, its form expanding further and further until it folds in on itself to form a balloon...

------

As a gigantic blimp of patchwork colors rises above the ground, its insides powered by Netiatono Vie's magical heat cycling through the air, carrying all the survivors of the encounter, it finds itself watched by more eyes than they know.

From a faraway tower, windows covered in dark canvas, a crystal sphere projects into the air both a moving picture of the airborne vehicle and a certain female Raitalan sergeant.

"Sergeant Aseiju. You mean to inform me that this creature slaughtered an entire troop of soldiers and caused untold collateral damage to one of our towns, and that it has been allowed to escape on this... Vehicle?"

"Sir, with all respect, I couldn't stop them- and once the fighting words turned to diplomacy I knew that I couldn't do anything. It was all I could do to find myself a communications crystal on one of the soldiers' bodies."

"So you came to me. At this point, I can do nothing either- but what do you think?"

"What, sir?"

"What do you think about the nature of their new group? Have the men riding on your caravan defected towards this unknown insurgent's cause? Or are they unwilling hostages of this monster?"

"...It's entirely possible that it's not quite as cut-and-dried as that. Sir."

"Your words are duly noted, Sergeant. If only we had aerial troops to spare in pursuit and espionage. Sergeant, you are dismissed."

"Yes sir, General Sholo Nabite."

One of the two pictures fade into darkness, leaving only a picture of the gaudily colored zeppelin as it lazily rises above a low-flying cloud layer.

------

A resolute spire stands on the horizon, its silhouette studded with spikes, each glowing with a softly blinking red light.

"Each of those spikes are a single meditation chamber." Netiatono stares at the tower. "I never thought I'd ever return to one of these."

"Master Vie? You've been to a Tower of the Red Gaze before?"

"It was on something of a diplomatic event. We were rather rudely expelled in a fashion culminating in a magical battle inside the first courtyard ring. Perhaps it'd be best if I omitted the details."

Steven shrugs and ends his line of questioning, instead turning to Jonathan.

"...You think we'll be fine? Crossing into Vosalsvrax this way... It's illegal, after all."

"I wouldn't worry about that. We flew above the cloud layer, nobody should have spotted us. Besides, we were going to do something illegal sooner or later."

As the ship cut through the air and arrived at the Tower's aeroplatform, the Inkheart having implanted itself in the corpse of a generic fallen soldier, instead of the clean landing area they expected-

Instead, a man, seemingly from Pallatir based on his clothing, wields a steel glaive against-

Is that a gigantic mantis with razor-sharp claws?

"...It seems we've arrived in more trouble. Dread Mantis are found in Arsene, not Vosalsvrax- so where are the-"

PSSSSSSSSHHWOOP

"...Aerial Hornet Cavalry. Oh. There they are. It seems we've arrived in the middle, unfortunately, of yet another Arsene airraid, so I think we should probably DUCK!"

A wave of needles, each the length of your foot and easily a centimeter in diameter, pierce through the outer coverings of the balloon, creating even more holes in the fragile patchwork. Netiatono seems rather peeved.

"Stop shooting my cloak!"

His words are met by another volley of stingers.

"Okay, next plan. You all jump off and I'll retract my cloak, and then we'll kill some bugs. Sound nice? Well, whatever, you don't get the choice anyways- Inkheart, you get to protect Oranen, make sure he doesn't get killed-"

The entire balloon is sucked in, like a cloth maelstrom, into Netiatono's back. You, caught off-guard, fall the entire two feet to land on the aeroplatform-

Tiven and Alchione have already landed, and Matilbeth, instead of landing, has taken to the air with that peculiar fluffy seed of hers.

The Inkheart and Oranen are nowhere to be seen, and as you each prepare your weapons you take note of the surroundings. You stand atop a steel platform topped with black scorched cinderstones, a circular landing pad easily eighty feet in diameter with no guardrails to speak of, with three readily accessible exits in the form of crimson energy bridges reminiscent of the design of the Laserwalk. Between you and the bridges are four large mantises, augmented with luxtech in a peculiar way, their claws honed sharp. You distinctly notice that there seem to be shoulder-mounted weaponry of an unknown variety, and you wonder if the reflective enamel of the insects' natural carapace might not mitigate some of the power of your weapons.

Above you, swarms of hornets, each the size of a horse and matched with a rider, sweep around and occasionally divebomb the ground far beneath the top landing pads, so far below that you cannot see anything clearly without some sort of telescope. The hornets seem to be armed with grenades consisting of a hive of tamed bees. As if they hadn't made the theme clear enough- flying bees that shot hives of even MORE dark-damned flying bees.

Far, far in the sky, you can see a gigantic... Mothership? Whatever it is, the huge thing is dropping mantises onto the Tower with a zealous fervor.

Tiven and Alchione have already leapt into combat besides the glaive-wielding Pallatian, who calls back at you.

"Hey there, Name's Kal Vadrien, and I could REALLY use some help here!"

Two of the mantises likewise notice your group and begin moving towards you, as you see more and more mantises passing over the energy bridges.

As the sun sets on another eventful day, you take note of your current situation. How do you confront these fearsome insectoid menaces?

Player Status:

DM's note:

Roll #27

Bigkahuna:
Let Netatiano Vie and Matilbeth know that I believe them. Keep an eye on the Inkheart from now on. Start treating Tiven like a man, and encourage him in his search for his father. Ask Alchione about her aspirations to be an adventurer. Ask Oranen how he's feeling..

You yell into the sky right before Netiatono and Matilbeth fly out of the range of your voice.

"I still believe you!"

No response is elicited from the two small silhouettes as they engage a swarm of hornets in aerial combat. You suppose they're not exactly in position to respond anyways, but you do feel a bit better.

The five of you, on the platform, size up the situation.

"What're our chances, you think?"

"There's more of us than them. Two to a mantis and we can kill them off. Tiven, you and Alchione- how do you feel about taking on a Mantis by yourself?"

Tiven nods fiercely. "I'll make sure I take one down, no problem."

Alchione nods as well- though you do note she's looking rather pale. You can't blame her- she's had little rest with all the excitement of the last few days. Without a word, Tiven and Alchione rush off to assist the glaive-wielding warrior, Kal Vadrien was it?

At least Alchione isn't scared or anything- or at least not anymore.

"And Tiven! I support your quest, and I know we all do! Don't worry!"

Tiven flashes a grin back at you before he ducks to avoid a blade which instead swoops harmlessly over his head.

And with that settled, you turn around. "Oranen? You awake?"

The Inkheart instead speaks. "Oranen Ispil has suffered extensive interthoracic bleeding as a result of me directly penetrating his internal organs' bloodstreams. He has been stabilized by heavy application of regenerative magic and potions, but he is in need of recovery in peace, which this situation does not conduct itself to."

The Inkheart's fingernails split open, and blood vessels running with black liquid grow out of the fingertips. "I will deliver Oranen Ispil to a meditation chamber, where he will be able to recuperate on his own good time. Do you entrust me with the life of your ally, mortal?"

"...Go. Get Oranen somewhere where he won't get killed. And protect him, or you will find our wrath once more."

The Inkheart only nods, picking up Oranen in a gentle web of black blood vessels, and begins descending the edge of the platform like some eldritch black spider.

---

Jackbarber:
Go ahead and 'Activate' my mineral skin. Fortify some cinderblocks, as well as "Thor's" Hammer.

You channel Fortification in all its variable ways, and strengthen not only your body, but also the stones that Mark apparently intends on using as projectiles. You decide to strengthen his hammer too, noting the vulnerable wood haft's relative weakness as compared to the scarred blocks.

Red granite and white marble chase up your form in tendrils, as the earthy colors of other more mundane stones form protective scales between colored mineral veins. Small stone protrusions emerge from your back, patterned almost like a vestigial lizard's spine, and a coif of stone emerges behind your neck as your skin hardens. You take an experimental step, noting that the flexible veins allow you to move the unbending rocky armor pieces.

Stepping forward, you prepare to meet the enemy head-on. Let's see how well these monsters fight when you're just as armored as them!

---

Johnratchet3:
Play a game of golf with my hammer and some cinder blocks. The hornets can be the holes Exude with extreme volume my pleasure as I do so.

You love good golfing! Man, the golf courses where you came from were SO COOL- they were held up by laser columns and you got to fight high-altitude winds. That's the good thing about living in a magic-high society. Only problem was that you lost your balls. A lot.

You grab a few cinderblocks and heft them. Meh, they're not too heavy, you guess.

"FORE!"

19

A mantis looks straight at you, its mouth pincers chittering as it focuses on you. Before it can respond, a well-placed cinderblock smashes its head open, sending its think-meats flying everywhere. The creature falls over, quite dead.

The other mantises all look straight at you- and you get the distinct feeling that you have just shifted the vaunted role of Number One Target from Kal Vadrien to yourself.

That's fine with you- you have plenty more rocks!

More mantises are struck with stones, some hit with such force that the corpses are sent plummeting off the side of the landing platform- but the creatures keep coming, and

---

Jackbarber:
Use the water scroll to wet the ground around the mantis' feet, Use the lightning scroll on the water.
Throw a stone towards it's shoulder mounted weapon attempting to jam the machinery.

You incant your hydrogenesis scroll, privately glad to be rid of the misdrawn rune, as a burst of scorching, boiling water is launched before your form. Advancing mantises halt and slow, seeing the heat of the water- which soon dissipates. Clacking its pincers almost as if in laughter, thone long mantis proceeds to wade through the water to capture its prey-

19

-which is all too bad for them, since you didn't intend the water to be a weapon in the first place. Firing off a scroll of lightning, the electrical energy goes straight for the conductive water- and a mantis is fried, its life functions completely compromised, steam exiting the chinks in its reflective armor as the creature falls, dead, into the puddle of water.

You grin at your initial success and throw some stones, taunting the remaining mantises, aiming for the shoulder-mounted armaments of unknown design.

7

...Your stones all miss, the weighty armor on you preventing you from throwing very effectively. The stone plops into the water with little result.

The mantises chitter at you and advance- noticeably avoiding the water. It's a good idea, since you do have another scroll of lightning on you. You stride forward with confidence, holstering your gun and blade- you intend on crushing the shells of these insects with your bare, stony hands.

You intend on acquiring trophies of war, this time, as you eye the carapace and blades of the insects.

---

Bigkahuna:
Stand by the edge of the platform and gain the attention of one of the mantises (is that the plural?). Once it begins to change momentum towards me, get out of the way and use Accel Control to accelerate his speed and keep his direction pointed towards the edge, in order to knock him off. As it collapses off the edge, grab one of its shoulder-weapons, kicking the claws if they come too close to my hands. Then shoot holes through the mantis's wings with my newly found blaster and knock it off the edge permanently. Afterwards, try to shoot the other mantises in the head or at their shoulder-weapons with my blaster.

"Hey, bugface!" You turn on your prism blade and wave at the mantises. "Yeah, you ugly dark-spawn bastards! Here!"

Two insect heads turn towards you. One of the heads is promptly lopped off by a steel glaive in that instant of distraction. The other head bats aside Kal and begins to walk menacingly towards you and the edge you now teeter on.

The creature, seeing that you do not run or move from the edge, chitters in confusion, staring at you.

"Well? Come at me bro!"

1

The mantis, instead of charging you, prudently fires a- IS THAT A NET OH LIGHT

You leap out of the way, realizing the danger of your location- and how you forgot completely about the mantises' possession of ranged weaponry. You can only hope that it is enough to prevent you from being dragged over by the heavy tangles of rope-

A burst of inspiration strikes you and you decelerate the net by a tiny fraction, the best you can do with its speed so high, hoping that it will be the critical difference between falling to your death-

7

And you manage, just barely, to leap out of the way- but not your hand. In a moment, you make your decision- and let go of your thoroughly entangled modified prism sword with dismay as the net and it go over the edge of the platform. Groaning, you turn just in time to see the mantis charge towards you, the only net remaining in its ranged launcher already exhausted. With only a cryspistol, you question whether you can successfully wrangle the creature over the edge-

But you can do naught but try. You leap again, bullfighting comparisons leaping unbidden to mind, as you accelerate the mantis's movements, in hopes that it will be sent over the edge.

Instead, the augmented insectoid infantry opens its claws wide as if opening for an embrace- and you recognize the intention of it.

It's going to push you off with it- and the mantis has wings! It can fly- something that, unfortunately, your humanoid form cannot accomplish.

15

You drop a teleport stone on the edge of the platform in an instant before the creature barrels over the edge with you in a bladed embrace.

And then you fall, screaming, past Steven clinging on the side of the central support pillar-

You trigger Movement instead, at the same moment that the Mantis unfolds its wings, and as the insect achieves flight you are sucked back atop the platform by your teleportal stones. You pop up right behind Mark, who is looking over the edge with an expression approaching horror and shock-

"Hey man, no worries. I'm fine!"

Mark jumps- thankfully not going over the edge- "OKAY you're back what did you- What's Steven doing down there?"

You shrug as you look down, watching the mantis fly off into the air, joining a squadron of hornets far below, moving out of range for cryspistol shots.

---

Wesfreak:
Get out my spider silk. While Kal Vedrian fights the mantises, sneak around behind them and jump onto the back of the most distracted mantis, (the part where the wings meet the body look like a possible place to sit) looping the spider silk over it's head (but above the arms and blade-y parts) so that I can stay on better. Move one end of the silk to my left hand, so that one hand holds both ends of the silk, leaving my other arm free. Use my other arm to grab onto the shoulder-mounted weapon, trying to aim it so that it points to the other mantises, or at least not at my allies.

You figure you should try a more complex maneuver. You run with the maximum acceleration you can achieve, blowing past Kal fending off two mantis claws, and roll right below one of the mantises-

3

You slide right under it, somehow, and come out the other side, stopping at the edge between the platform's end and the laserwalk. As you look up, a mantis screeches- and you barely miss being fatally impaled by one of those razor-sharp blades. The mantis's claw strikes and you convert the roll into a jump, seeking to lasso the creature with the rope you now have on hand-

10

...Your rope snaps as you pull it taut. Did the fire damage its constitution?

You don't know the answer to that question, but you do know that you have to do something. Your leap, without the necessary tension from the rope to send you into an arc, instead sends you on a path that would lead to your death through falling. With one last hope remaining, your arm reaches out towards a shoulder barrel of the mantis, seeking to gain a grasp on a handhold to pull yourself from the edge-

7

-Your grip holds true.

For a moment.

Then you pull that barrel from the mantis's shoulder as the creature slashes you in the arm, throwing you away from its body- and you find yourself falling with a small steel cylinder in your hand. The fall's a lot faster than you expected.

What exactly did you pull out, you wonder? With a look, you confirm it- a prism disk. Apparently, this mantis carries a revolving disk launcher designed to bisect both building and battle, a weapon that can literally reap entire armies of soldiers. The handhold is smooth in your grasp, almost as smooth as the air streaking past you.

...Perhaps the fall will be painless?

13

...No. You aren't giving up so easily.

With a click, you activate the spinning laser blade, wielding it as you would a shield- and dig it into the wall. For good measure, you dig into the wall with your own prism sword as well. The combined frictional force slows your descent to a manageable level, and as you apply your boots to the wall as well you finally catch a small crack between two of the red concrete bricks that form the support for the landing, causing you to finally emerge at equilibrium.

Looking down, you estimate you've traveled an entire fourth of the way down in a single second. Gravity is a fearsome thing- but you are more preoccupied with ways out of your predicament.

Below you, hornet fighters are bombarding the ground level with stingers and hives- and as you look above you, some thing blotting out the shadow-

...A mantis soars down past you, ridden by Jonathan, whooping- whether in panic or exhilaration, you can't quite tell. Perhaps it's both.

You turn to the side and see a nondescript human form with black tendrils of ink exuding from its right hand's fingertipe, the ink anchoring him to the wall. With his other hand, he effortlessly carries Oranen-

"I see you are in a predicament. Would you care for assistance?" It gestures towards the ground. "I was just about to continue my descent to the ground levels."

---

Johnratchet3:
Find and check up on that ink heart, and ensure Oranen is being guarded and not being kidnapped. Go on a killing spree in the process (with my mighty hammer). If I need some cover, find some mantis exoskeleton and use it as a bloody shield.

You put a break in your greatly enjoyable game of Hit The Rocks At The Bugs Crossing The Bridges because you think you just saw Steven leap off the platform. This bears investigation.

You run and begin to cross the large platform-

1

But your barrage, having let up, allows the enemy mantises to retaliate. They do so with a wave of shoulder-mounted weaponry of various sorts. Bullets and beams, blades and blasts streak in your direction- and you are hit both on your calf and chest, inflicting minor damage. Gritting your teeth, you run for the nearest available cover- the two-foot tall pile of dead mantis. Not much, but you leap behind it almost as if it were some trench in a ghastly war, and you rip several pieces of armor plate from the dead thing without stopping. Armed with new protective equipment, you run over to the edge of the platform, deflecting the continued barrage as you go along.

...Well, there's the Inkheart. He seems fine- and so does Oranen. Looks like the two of them are assisting Steven in some way-

Jonathan shoots past you on the back of a mantis, yelling incoherently as he does. Why are you not surprised?

Of course, the surprise comes later, when he pops right up behind you in the most unexpected way possible. Crazy, these people.

---

8680:
Shoot my cryspistol at the closest mantis at such an angle that if the carapace is as reflective as I fear my shot will be deflected into the eyes of the second closest mantis, while defending myself against the closest mantis with my glaive.

The last mantis around you shrieks at you and lashes out, seemingly without regard for its own safety, slashing out wildly with its blades. You retaliate with a blocking maneuver of your glaive, spinning it around in an elegant arc and defusing enemy attacks. With your other hand you fire a pair of shots into the eyes of the insect.

13

The thing staggers back, its compound eyes smoking and shattered, striking blindly. It becomes naught more than trivial to decapitate it easily with the blade of your glaive. Shuddering, the creature falls to the ground, its legs giving out underneath it and its upper torso finally hitting the ground like that of a tree harvested for lumber, a wet smask accompanied by spreading internal fluids.

You quickly set to work, cutting pieces of the mantis off. You find yourself with a neat pair of sharp reflective blades, each easily three feet long, as long as several hard pieces of reflective shell.

18

...Oho. What's this? You detach the shoulder armaments as well as the back wings, finding the wings to be just as strong and sharp as the bladed forelimbs of the mantis. You take a look at the shoulder weapons as well- fletchette shooters, of obvious Arsene make. It's disappointing that there's no ammunition loaded- though if there were you should be shredded by now, of course.

...The things are heavy- especially the fletchette shooter. You leave the items in a neat pile next to the mantis's corpse, opting only to make a makeshift shield of a piece of reflective shell. Having prepared yourself thus, you look around- and see two of those adventurers from the strange airship, one armored in stony skin and the other with a peculiar teleporting power, stripping pieces of shell off for use as defense as well.

---

Shadowkiller:
Take out as many mantises as possible, priority on the ones that are attacking bigkahuna..

Jonathan and Mark are dangerously close to the edge, as well as the laserwalk bridges from which even more mantises advance to menace them. As a sniper, you know what you must do.

16+2

Four more shots are fired and each find the head of a single insect, the concussive force knocking their bodies off the laserwalk and creating interference patterns in the light-forged bridges for a brief instant. The mantises keep coming, though- and you're not sure how many there are. As you reload your gun, you feel the lightness of your ammunition bag with a cold dread, and realize that eventually you will run out of shots.

------

The Inkheart easily carries Steven and Oranen's unconscious form down the side of the concrete support, eventually coming to a stop at a window. Slowly, the ink tendrils slide into the cracks between the rocks-

And with a monumental heave, the Inkheart pulls the crack open, ripping open a hole large enough for a man to walk through. He enters the inside of the support of the platform-

"Good. There are beds and shelves undoubtedly stocked with medicinal supplies. We must inspect the supplies and salvage any that may be of use to us in reclaiming this tower, Steven Zrael."

"R-Reclaiming?"

"The Tower has already been evacuated- it should be painfully obvious by now. Below us are Vosalsvite Militiamen fighting a hopeless fight against a much better armed invading force from the Arsene lands- not to mention the Supercarrier above us, deploying Hornet fighters and refueling them. The Vosalz guard is not here, and neither are the state mages- and so we must recapture the Tower ourselves."

"What's a Tower of the Red Gaze anyways?"

"The Red Gaze is the symbol of the flag of Vosalsvrax. These towers are government-funded places of meditation and rest for travelers and state soldiers alike, serving as hostel and fortress in one."

"...I see. Isn't there something we can do for Oranen?"

The inkheart lays Oranen gently down on a bed. "We must wait for him to naturally recover. The damage I did to his lymphatic and endocrine systems is extensive and complex enough that only natural regeneration will help him now."

"So what do we do?"

"We? I remain here. You are free to do as you wish, Steven Zrael. You may return back up the central bannister and rejoin your friends. Or perhaps you should prefer to head down the tower's elevators and join the battle beneath, or even remain here to keep watch over me? Regardless, it is no concern of mine. The Progenitor and Inheritor has tasked me with the protection of your group, and I am bound to remain to protect Oranen Ispil."

"...I see."

------

Above you, something of a situation has arisen. Tiven and Alchione- well, Tiven just jumped off the side of a building. None of you have any idea what he did, but judging by the fact that Alchione was more than willing to follow him, you're sure the kid- no, wait, the man- knows what he's doing.

Tiven and Alchione are gone- and now the five of you, having truly recognized each other as friends forged by battle, face a different conundrum. Namely, the fact that hornets are homing in on your position, the unsheltered landing platform- and the related fact that uncounted mantises still block the laserwalks that lead into a tower which would provide shelter.

You can't take everything the mantises left you either. The extremely heavy shoulder-mounted weapons would have to be taken apart and carried by two people in order for your group as a whole to move at any acceptable level of speed. This provides something of a dilemma, especially for adventurers whose only thought in war is the acquisition of loot.

You have little time to commence with your next move, and this is not helped by the fact that none of you know where Steven vanished off to, or whether he's even still alive.

As for the luxtech augments, you are left with a net shooter with no nets, a fletchette shooter without any fletchettes to speak of, a blade launcher with a single blade still remaining in the chambers, and a heavy laser turret that has an undetermined amount of charge remaining.

The buzzing in the sky grows louder. The number of mantises advancing down the bridges towards you grows greater.

What do you do?

Player Status:

Roll #28

Wesfreak:
Ask the Inkheart if there is any way that he can try to get everybody from the top down here, while I protect Oranen. If he agrees, than grab a spot near the elevator that's facing the window (So that I can hear if someone starts coming up and see out the window to see how the combat is going.) While I wait for the Inkheart to return with the others, write some runes of adrenaline rush (A spell that uses ygeiamancy to stimulate the production of extra adrenalin in the subject of the spell, making extreme physical activity, like running and sword-fighting, but not aiming, slightly easier for them.) on a piece of paper.

19

New skill acquired: New Rune Design: Rune of Adrenaline Rush
You manipulate the body in subtle ways to put more emphasis on adrenaline production, allowing a short-term boost to martial endeavors.

If the inkheart refuses to try to get everyone down here, then prepare the runes of adrenalin rush anyway, and ask the Inkheart whether or not the elevator he mentioned can go up. Ask him where it comes up, if it can. Then take the elevator upwards, if it can go up to the landing platform, using the disk as a shield and wielding my pistol in my other hand. If it comes up near the others, beckon them inside and go back down with as many of them that can fit.

The Inkheart watches you curiously as you begin drawing runes, spending a good fifteen minutes on the mathematical derivation of lines and circles. “I must say, I find myself intrigued by your skill in Material Magic. That magical path is, alas, closed to me- but the process is interesting, no less.”

You shrug and put the three runes you drew in your pocket before asking the Inkheart your question.

“So, where does the elevator go exactly?”

“The elevator, as its name might suggest, elevates you. It will allow you to ascend- or perhaps descend, if that is your goal.”

“Well, yeah, I gathered as much, but where does it come out at the top? Does it lead to that platform we came in from?”

“It leads to an exit on the opposide of the platform, and you may access the platform using the laser bridges. As I am given to know, however, at the moment said bridges are being traversed by enemy Dread Mantises. Finally, there is no assurance that the elevators are funct-”

“Good to know, see you later. Don’t let Oranen die.”

With that, you stand up and make your way out of the room. You emerge in an unfamiliar hallway, doors lining the sides, the hall seemingly traveling in a large arc straddling the circumference of the main Tower. The ceiling, illuminated with strangely swimming red light, casts an exotic tone over the white and gray tiles beneath you. Wrought-iron forgings support crystals that emanate scarlet illumination, lighting the way around.

You’re not familiar with the layout, but reading a few signs on the wall, conveniently written in both the languages of Vosalzan and Raitali, allows you to get a general idea of the location of the elevator. You head in that direction-

3

PSSSSSSEEEEEeeeeeeewwwwwwwwww.

The power dies- and all the lights die along with it, as the trademark sound of crystal energy conduits shutting down is heard, lux fuses expelling their pneumatic contents and discoupling the system.

All that means to you is that the elevator is dysfunctional, for now.

The elevator, as any fire-safe building should, is accompanied by a pair of revolving staircases that seem to wind around the cylinder of the elevator itself. One leads you down and one up, and after a cursory consideration you begin climbing the stairs up.

It’s an arduous process, but you have to regroup with your friends IS THAT A MANTIS AROUND THE CORNER-

You turn around, nearly falling down the stairs in your haste- as the unmistakable sound of insect mandibles’ clacking comes from just around the bend.

Okay, this isn’t good. There’s no space to maneuver in the small corridor of the staircase, and tripping down could mean that you’d roll all the way down the tower, and possibly suffer bone breaks or other nasty injuries. Not to mention, since you’re trying to ascend, the mantis has the upper ground and probably even has some ranged weaponry. At least the bugger didn't see you.

But you can’t just stop here! It is imperative that you return to the group at large, as the party healer-

And yet, the healer is probably the worst-equipped to deal with such close-range combat.

What do you do?

---

Bigkahuna:
Take the blade launcher, and... exit the building where Tiven and Alchione... exited, making sure that I see where the platforms/handholds they used were. Cover myself with my reflective shield. Tell everyone that the way we're... exiting, carrying heavy turrets will probably not work. Save my single blade within the launcher, and continue into the Tower with an attempt to retake it.

You pick up the blade launcher.

5

You drop it after two seconds with a very loud clank. The thing's way too heavy for you to carry alone- not to mention, you're about to jump off the side of a building! What are you doing picking up supremely heavy pieces of artillery anyways?

Instead, you take the single remaining Prism Disk. You figure that'll just have to be enough for now.

You stride over to the very edge of the platform and peer down. Beneath you, you see Tiven and Alchione lowering themselves with continuously sprouting vines, plants forming a comfortable basket hooked around the chest. You decide to follow, and begin climbing down the vine, using your feet for gripping on the side of the wall.

You prepare the shield, but luckily for you, no enemies seem to notice your descent down the vine. Beneath you, Tiven and Alchione stop, the growth of the vine ended. The two get out of their vine harnesses, climbing through a window framed by red concrete and iron-worked edges, seemingly focused on a singular task of some sort. You expedite your descent by jumping down, and the harnesses catch you more than adequately. Looking through the window, you…

You’re not sure what you’re seeing.

Call to Matilbeth and Netatiano Vie to tell them where we are going. Search for ANY suitable melee weapon not currently being weilded and take it, 'upgrading' if I come across better ones.

3

…You can barely see the two of them up there, and you can only tell it’s Netiatono because of his colored cloak. The two specks in the sky sure aren’t going to hear anything you yell, not unless you somehow learn Phonomancy out of thin air or something.

You look through the window once more into the room, a circular dome with six pillars in the positions of a hexagon’s vertices, each pillar made of translucent red glass lit with small motes of fire swimming up and down in the hollowed cylinder, and scour the insides for weapons.

You see a small bed and a coat-rack, upon which you find a black tuxedo jacket and bowler hat, so covered in dust as to look untouched for months. On a table are several strange apparatuses that you do not recognize as weapons, but Tiven and Alchione seem rather enthused.

“…Sweet, an Acoustic Keyboard!” Tiven grins as he hefts…

What is that thing? Black and white rectangles line its side in a pattern you don’t quite recognize, and on the far end are some strange barrel-like setups. The entire thing confuses you.

“You know, we used to have a grand piano back in our town… Well, before it went bad anyways. I had to sell the thing… It was the last thing our shop managed to sell before those adventurers showed up and dealt with the bandits.”

Alchione giggles as she pulls something out of the pile herself. “Hey, I play the violin- I bet I play better than you!”

“Nope, sorry, not possible and rejected. You can’t beat seven years of practice!” Tiven grins- and sits down, placing the strange keyboard device across his lap. He takes a deep breath, as if in anticipation, and you hold your breath as well- what does that machine do, you wonder?

You soon find out, as the boy- no, wait, man- his hands, practiced and smooth, gloss over the keys, dancing through them, pushing down patterns and combinations that you don’t recognize. It’s almost like a beautiful dance, one that you are mesmerized by, an art form perhaps long lost to your place in society-

“Drat, the thing’s not powered. See, this is why a physical piano is better than keyboards- you don’t need to feed them batteries!” Tiven sighs. “I suppose it’s no time for music anyways. Come on, we came down here to find the weapons and to turn on the geometric shields…” He puts the keyboard down and stands up slowly.

“Aw, come on, Tiven!” Alchione fishes around in his backpack, pulling out a pair of batteries. “Don’t look so down, we can always spend some time practicing later. Until then you can keep the keyboard with you!” Alchione, picking up the keyboard, fiddles with its back and inserts the batteries in some crook or another.

Tiven makes a sour face. “Yeah, whatever. I need to grow up anyways. Come on, let’s get moving.”

As you stand outside the window, looking in…

6

…The vine snaps under your weight, making a loud cracking sound- and you just manage to grab on to some of the iron gilding around the window before the grassy harness beneath you give way. Tiven and Alchione, surprised at the sound, look out at you-

“Uh, yeah. I could use a bit of help here, you two?”

The two quickly rush over and pull you through the window (which you just barely fit through); after you’re done rubbing your sore wounds, you grimace.

“Well, that certainly wasn’t the best way for me to make my entry.”

The three of you look somewhat sheepishly at one another.

“…Well, we should definitely get moving. Let’s head to- what did you say? Weaponstore- and something about Geometric Shields?”

“Yeah, we need to activate the shielding mechanisms so that hornets and mantises don’t keep coming. Weapons would be nice too- and though I don’t know where weapons are, I know where the shield mechanisms are. There’s a bunch of hornets flying out through a hole in the side of the main tower, and I bet the generators are there, turned off by the bugs.”

“Well, you’ve certainly got a nice plan. Lead the way!”

Tiven grins, picking up his keyboard, and opens the door out to the hallway-

PSSSSSSEEEEEeeeeeeewwwwwwwwww.

The power dies. All the lights go out.

Just your luck. Peering down a darkened hallway inlaid with marble framed in iron, you distinctly see two branches. The spiral staircase allows you to travel to an upper floor or a lower floor; you’re not sure which one will allow you to cross from the subtower into the main tower.

“Yeah, I’m just as lost as you here. Where do you suggest we head? One of these definitely leads to a laser bridge, while the other.. The other probably leads to an observation ledge, I guess. We could see the entire battle in both the air and on the ground from there.” Tiven shrugs. "It's your call."

Good question. As you stand there, peering at the two paths, both indistinguishable from the other, you wonder- which way do you head, exactly?

---

johnratchet3:
Break apart that fletchette launcher (use my tool kit and 'repairing' skills), grab the juicy half of it (NOT the barrel), and hoist it on my back with whatever's available, maybe an insect leg or antennae or something.

13

Figuring that the tech is more important than the weight, you use your toolkit and quickly dismantle the outer covering, removing the barrel as well as some armor plates that you deem unnecessary to the function of the weapon itself. The metal-and-crystal device, though still clunky and heavy, is now just barely light enough to reasonably carry around.

You hoist it with a noticeable strain, and find that you’re really quite weighted down. You’re pretty sure you couldn’t really carry much more stuff. Still, at least your hands are yet free to fight with.

---

Shadowkiller:
>Search for anything that might disable the laserwalkway, preferably temporarily, if I am succesful run across the (rematerialised) bridge before the mantises recover and fly back up.

You look around for something to damage the laser bridges with, at least temporarily, to dislodge the mantises from their rather pesky position.

17

…Aha.

On the opposite side, you see a small control station for the bridges- one that you are reasonably sure would disconnect the bridges if you hit.
It’s forty feet from your location to the control station- more of a box than a station, only a cubic foot in volume at the least, looking like a four-legged stool pegged into the ground.

Can you hit the thing?

14

Yes, yes you can. It’s not even a challenge- a single bolt takes the thing out- though, as you note, the box is not yet beyond repair. Might be a useful detail to note.

The mantises, finding themselves without footing, fall for a short bit before deploying their wings and gliding down the side of the tower, pulling out of their stall to return to a controlled aerial motion. Fortunately for you, the mantises aren’t quite strong enough to propel themselves back to your altitude without thermal currents due to the encumbering armor and armaments on them, and after a few abortive attempts the insects, screeching, fly off.

…Wait.

If the bridge can’t be repaired if you’re not on the other side, how’re you going to get to the other side in the first place then?

Perhaps that explains the stony looks you’ve been getting from your friends. You shrug curtly and step aside, as Mark seems to be preparing to attempt… something, after he dismantled the fletchette shooter.

---

JackBarber:
Rip the claws off of the mantises, hanging them/strapping them to my back and/or back. (The blades, maybe keeping parts of the arms on for grip...)
Also, rip off some of the plating from the corpses of the dead mantises, adding some more armor.

You figure this is a good time to salvage as much defensive material as you can. You set down with a blade and get to work.

19

With the large amount of material before you, you have ample space to work- and work you do. Eventually, using your sword as a makeshift blowtorch, you weld interlocked plates of mantis material together. Slowly, you construct a full suit of scaled armor, by no means stable against melee assaults but probably more than effective against ranged lux weapons due to the reflectivity of the scales. Defense against melee is what your fortified skin is for, anyways, isn't it?

Seriously, you can see your own face in the scales. This stuff is really good.

You rub the last vestiges of insect blood off the scales before donning your new outfit; it fits you rather well, as it should. Thus garbed in new material, you prepare to follow Mark and Allene, who have already descended through the trapdoor.

---

johnratchet3:
Get inside the tower, and locate Wesfreak/Steven, requesting some medical attention from him. If, however he's not available or I can't find him, shove a gel pack on myself.

19

You begin prying off cinderblocks from the ground or smashing them to pieces, following one of your suspicions. After about a tenth of the entire area of the platform is defaced, a process that takes you ten minutes with the help of your sledgehammer.

And as you suspected, beneath one group of blocks you find a trapdoor in the steel platform.

How convenient. Apparently, the laser bridge, probably built after the tower itself was completed, negated the need for the trapdoor, which was eventually paved over with stone. As you congratulate yourself with a gelpack, you, Allene, and James prepare to descend. Kal has apparently followed in Jonathan’s path, and though you are leery at the idea of splitting up your group like such, none of you stopped him.

The air inside is less than pleasant. No windows allow passage of air, and the atmosphere is barely breathable enough to allow passage. You’ve heard stories of fetid air trapped in caves without circulation before, but this is the first time any of you have experienced it.
You enter the room and look around. From the looks of it, this was once a refueling station as well as emergency stockpile. Ancient rations of food lay decrepit, dusty husks of their past appearance; rusty metal swords lay in decaying weapon racks around the wall. A look tells you that they will not be useful, and the three of you continue down another trapdoor’s ladder.

This trapdoor opens down to a quite luxurious hallway, nothing like the hidden attic-layer you passed through above. Luxurious stones pave the walls- marble and stone framed by iron girdings, lit from overhead by crimson alcoves. You’re beginning to understand why they call this place the Tower of the Red Gaze- everywhere you gaze, everything is red.

You look around the hallway, but there isn’t much to see. There’s a few windows, but you do not yet see the huge hole in the wall that would signify Steven’s forced entry.

…Just what exactly is that clicking sound, anyways? It’s echoing all around you, like rats in a tavern or inn’s faulty walls. Feeling slightly nervous as the sound reminds you of the clicking of mantis mandibles, your group proceeds quickly towards the elevator.

johnratchet3:
Finally, link up with the group, preferably with those inside the tower, and use the confined quarters with the group to gain a respectable combat advantage over any invading insects. Keep using that bloody shield.

As the three of you, under perfectly functioning lights, enter the elevator and prepare to descend-

PSSSSSSEEEEEeeeeeeewwwwwwwwww.

The power dies.

Worse than that, the elevator falls almost forty feet- before the safety tether catches it. You find yourself suspended in the tube, thankful for the fact that Vosalsvrax engineers seem to value traditional safety measures as well as modern advances-

A huge clunk is heard from the top of your elevator car, before a mantis’s blade pierces through the top-

“Aw no we’re going to die here aren’t we we're going to die we're going to die...”

“James, shut up!”

Fighting panic, you pull out your shield forged from a dead mantis’s back carapace, preparing to engage in battle in probably the most enclosed space possible.

---

8680:
Grab some more mantis parts if there are any left and shoot at the eyes of the advancing mantises. If I somehow manage to incapacitate all the mantises, kill them and/or knock them off the bridges (I'm guessing light has low friction) and enter the tower. Otherwise, follow Jonathan, strapping my glaive and shield to my back if necessary.

What, even more mantis parts? You’re not sure what else you could do- not to mention the carapace pieces you already have are starting to weigh you down. In the end, you decide not to burden yourself further. You already have two sharp claws and a shield carapace piece, and any more might hamper your ability to move effectively, something you’ll need if you’re going to be following Jonathan down the tower.

15

One of the vines has snapped thanks to Jonathan’s weight, but the other one remains intact. Taking a breather, you quickly inform your new acquaintances of your decision before rappelling down the vine with skill. You quickly arrive at the window and pull yourself in. Following their way down the hallway, you quickly join up with Jonathan’s group, who seem to be considering which path to follow.

------

The fragmented party, having split up into three groups, face drastically different quandaries.

Jonathan and Kal, along with Tiven and Alchione, are lost in an unfamiliar building without lighting or power, trying to find their way to the Geometric Shield Generators. Which of the two paths shall they proceed on- up the revolving staircase, or down the revolving staircase?

James, Allene, and Mark are trapped inside a single elevator car, severed by the power loss- and they find themselves besieged by attacks from atop, trapped in a cramped space. How will they deal with this threat?

Steven finds himself, alone, barely concealed from a mantis above him. The Inkheart, nearby, has orders to protect Oranen- will Steven retreat to the hospital room or attempt to make an alpha attack on the unsuspecting insect sentinel?

Player Status:

Roll #29

Bigkahuna:
Run back to the room and take the bowler hat and the tuxedo. Ignore any weird glances I may get. Ask Tiven what in the world a "piano" is.

"Just a second, guys! I have a GREAT idea."

Kal looks at you oddly as you rush past him, but he doesn't question you. Half a minute later, you return sporting a SPIFFY set of new clothes. This is how a dapper adventurer travels, indeed!

"...That's your great idea?" Alchione seems a bit more skeptical.

"Hey, nobody else was using them. Anyways, what's that? You called it a piano." You gesture towards the strange thing Tiven's holding.

"That? Pianos are used to play music. See, if you press the keys on the side in an order that sounds nice-" Tiven hits a few of the rectangle things on the side. "Yeah, that sounded horrible but I wasn't trying to play or whatever- so anyways, if you press chords like this or if you do scales like that-"

Tiven plays a quick glissando on the keyboard- and probably the most unexpected thing possible happens.

A huge soundwave lances out of the piano's side, wavebursts synchronized with Tiven's keys, streaking from the tubes and mechanisms, the music amplified and reconverged upon itself like a laser of sound, solid vibrations slashing through the air to directly strike the wall behind the staircase. You cringe and expect noise- but the impact is silent.

The vibrating air passes right through the solid wall. You look at in confusion-

Before the entire wall collapses, a clean circular cut and several sinusoidal diameters taking a perfect hole out of the wall silently. The stone slides out of its niche and slams on the floor with a thud. Kal goes over and runs his hand along the edge of the stone. "I daresay these are perfectly smooth cuts. I can't even begin to express how sharp that wave was- this is solid stone, I mean..."

The four of you are silent for a second.

"...Do pianos do that normally?"

"...No, they, uh, they don't. I think."

Alchione looks thoughtful for a second before hefting her violin and pulling out a bow quickly, lashing a few chords into the air; you brace for the ceiling to fall on you or something this time...

"No, nothing." Alchione sighs. "Looks like Tiven got the only cool toy. I mean, a sound-gun-whatever-piano? Really? SO not fair."

"Hey, I wasn't looking for something like this! I just wanted a portable keyboard!" Tiven looks like he's blushing slightly.

Kal coughs. "I wonder who that man using the room was. The room doesn't look like anybody's been in it for months if not years."

The four of you stand silently. Eventually, Tiven looks back towards the staircases again. "So, uh, which way do we go?"

Bigkahuna:
Use my reflective mantis shield (or my Prism Disk if the shield doesn't work), held next to the light of my glowing Cryspistol, to see around the corner of the hallway, and eventually the stairs. Decide to go down the stairs, looking for these 'Geometric Shields' and the Weapon Stores, using my Cryspistol for light and such.

You pull out your equipment and look around the corner. Tiven shrugs. "Being cautious, are you? If anything's down here the sonic wave thing would have brought them."

"Hey, you never know. There could be a collapse down the stairs from your blast or whatever." For all your words, however, you see nothing down the stairs of interest with the illumination from your pistol. "Looks like the way's clear, anyways. Let's go downstairs to find these Geology Shields or whatever."

"Geometric Shields."

"Right, right. What're those again?"

"The Geometric Shield should be a hexagonal prism of energy that covers the entire Tower when activated, so we can stop the mantises. Then we can figure out what to do, and the militia can probably rest for a while too. But if the landline to the reactor has been cut already, then, well, we'll have to find something else."

"We'd better get moving, then."

---

8680:
Ready my shield and cryspistol (and glaive, if I can carry all three at once) and follow Jonathan.

Preparing your equipment anyways, the rest of your group heft their equipment as well. Tiven looks at his piano with obvious unease, recognizing the inherent danger if he dropped it on its keys. Nevertheless, you proceed down the stairs in search of a path into the main tower and the shield generator.

---

Bigkahuna:
While we walk, quietly ask Alchione about her adventurer aspirations and such.

"...You know, I've always wondered. Why do you want to be an adventurer so badly?"

Alchione looks at the ground for a second. Then she looks up somewhat determinedly, and opens her mouth.

"I once had a pet plant. My mother gave it to me and told me to take good care of it. I guess now that I think of it, it was a test or something? Anyways, what happened was after a year the plant died. The winter was cold that year and our sales started faltering right then, so we didn't have enough for the plant. In the end, well..."

Alchione's face is set with a heavy frown.

"The plant died. Mom could have saved it, but she told me that all things had to die, even people, and that the plant died in a good way. I still don't understand that."

"Understand what?"

"The plant didn't do anything! It just sat there for years, absorbing the sunlight and water, and when it died it just... Shriveled. It didn't fight back, didn't try to uproot itself. It just... Let itself die. And the worst thing is that mom didn't even want to save it! I begged her but she told me that I had to learn to care for it, as if it were my fault that the winter was cold and we didn't have enough to buy food with..."

A single tear runs down her cheek, as Tiven, from the front of the group, looks back at you with slight disapproval and threat. You fight down uncomfortableness and continue.

"...But how does that lead you to want to be an adventurer?"

Alchione wipes the tear off her cheek as she replies fiercely, "Adventurers die fighting! They don't wither away in the bed they've been in for the last three years of their life. I'm not going to die like a plant."

"..."

You find yourself unsettled by the morbidity of this line of conversation.

"So that's why I want to be an adventurer. I want to do and see things and in the end die knowing I did and saw things. I mean, that's good, right?" Alchione looks at you, and it is only now that you notice you're almost a foot and a half taller than her.

"...Yes, that's a good reason, Alchione. Yes..."

With that, the four of you continue, the mood slightly changed, though in what way you can't quite tell.

------

After descending three levels, you find a still-functional laser bridge leading to the main tower. As you cross, carefully avoiding Hornet patrols, you note a sign on the main tower-

"Hm, this one's written in Vosalzan." Jonathan grimaces. "Kal, you're from around Pallatir, maybe you can read it?"

"...Hm. We're on floor 3 of 10- from above here all the rooms are Meditation chambers. Beneath us is an... Alchemy forge, whatever that is, and beneath that-" Kal suddenly grins. "There! General Reception Lobby, Barracks, Training Halls and Weapons Storage, Geometric Shield Generators!"

Tiven nods. "That's where we're going then."

Together, the four of you enter the main tower- and just as immediately jump behind pillars, as you see the monstrous sight before you.

A huge monolithic mass of yellow has affixed itself to the opposite side of the tower, piercing through the wall itself, grids and boxes in it opening and closing to admit hornets through holes in the walls. The entire structure, seemingly made of molten wax, pulses and flexes in rhythm like something alive.

Tiven whispers furiously across the gap between the pillars. "What is that?! I've never seen something so..."

"It's a Hornet hive. They build the hives themselves as portable refuel stations- but I've never seen one this big." Kal frowns. "This may be a problem, but if we can sneak past them somehow then we'll be safe."

"The only problem with that idea is that the stairs are in the center of the room- in order to go up or down we'd be seen." Jonathan shakes his head. "Maybe we could climb down the outside-"

"And get seen by all the patrols? Screw that."

Alchione, unlike everyone else present, has a little smile on her face. "What if we go in and blow up the place, just like a real adventurer would? I think it's the best idea!"

As Tiven facepalms, the two of you look at the huge structure again and wonder how to proceed...

But in the meantime, three of your friends are facing a much, much more immediate problem.

---

Shadowkiller:
If I see the face of the mantis, put a point blank bolt into its face.

You don't see the mantis, and you dare not fire in enclosed quarters, inside what amounts to a metal box, where all the splinters of your bolt would undoubtedly hit your friends-

The mantis rips the ceiling off and pushes its face inside to shriek. That makes your job a bit easier, you suppose, as you fire a single bolt at close range.

10

You pulp the mantis's head, and it collapses atop the elevator. The shattered brain-blood-fluid-guts begin leaking from the neck joint into the elevator, suitably disgusting you.

---

JackBarber:
Get some runes of Slowing on the floor and/or walls of the elevator. (In case I cut the cable as well...)

3

You attempt to write runes on the floor, but you find that the fluid on the floor obstructs your attempts at inscription with the dagger end of your cryspistol! With growing frustration, you draw the runes over and over again from memory- but each time, blood fills the traced lines and coagulates, preventing you from completing a rune. Before you can clear the fluid again, another thump comes from above- more mantises.

Looks like you'll have to do without the runes- you haven't any time left!

---

johnratchet3:
Check that James is ready to try and slow any plummet we make, then ask Allene and James to give me a bit of room for a sec. Make an almighty massive swing with my hammer into the roof of the elevator car where the insects seem to be, and bellow at them to get the **** off my roof.

You heft your hammer, and roar with all your might at this insect that dared challenge your might-

15

"I AM MOTHERFUCKING SICK OF THESE MOTHERFUCKING MANTISES IN THIS MOTHERFUCKING ELEVATOR!"

The mantis stares at you and chitters, seemingly intimidated.

"GET THE FUCK OFF MY ROOF!"

And with a threatening swing of your hammer, the insect, seeing the plight of its comrades, decides to return to whatever its original objective was, opening its wings and flying back up the elevator shaft.

You let a breath out.

And then mantis flies right back down, using gravity to boost its speed and momentum, piercing through the roof of the elevator with ease due to the increased acceleration-

Goddammit.

---

JackBarber:
Once finished, extend my Cry-sword and attempt to stab the large mantis above.

Allene is busy reloading, and the mantis is about to leap right into the elevator, where the close range will work to its advantage and make it that much easier for it to slaughter you all-

19

As the creature leaps down with a shriek, you extend your blade, aiming for the creature to impale itself. Your positioning is without flaw, and the head of the beast embeds itself right on the head as Allene and Mark leap out of the way, Allene dropping a bullet bolt on the ground in the process.

But-

2

The insect's death spasm was not without its costs. The bug, taller than any man, lashes out with its claws as its head is gibbed, whether out of a final nervous reaction or a vitriolic revenge strike you cannot tell. However, the effects of its attack are more than evident.

And it seems as if everything happens at once.

One blade penetrates straight through the wall in its strength, pinning the side of the elevator to the wall.

The other blade hits the bullet bolt dropped on the ground- as you cover your eyes, you feel glassy splinters digging into you. You faintly hear Mark yelling in shock, blocking some of the shards near his head with his hammer-

The explosion rips the claw straight off the mantis's body, and the flying appendage barely clips the safety tether before embedding itself into another mantis's chest, slaying that insect as well. Lifting your hands from your face, you see a hole in the ground- half the area of the elevator's floor has been obliterated by the shattered bullet bolt, leaving a trail for the insect juices to drain from the elevator. Looks like you'll have to be careful where you step, you note.

JackBarber:
Place my free hand on the wall of the elevator and scream "Be fortified, I command ye'!"

Fighting rising panic once more, you look above you, through the hole in the ceiling-

And you see the safety tether unwinding, a small cut in its side growing bigger and bigger as the weight of three dead mantises plus the elevator begins to exceed the maximum weight limit.

Dammit! Only one thing you can do-

You place one hand on the mantis's blade in the wall and one hand on the elevator's wall.

"Be fortified, I command ye!"

The walls and blade glow for a second, before the glow fades. You can only hope that your Fortification was enough as you release the spell, allowing the concept to take root.

It's not a second too soon, as you see the tether's last few wires holding you from oblivion. As you take a final breath and briefly consider praying to Sol Invictus-

The tether snaps. You fall for a single, bone-chilling second-

18

Your Fortifications hold true; the mantis's blade acts as a nail, holding the side of your elevator to the wall in the absence of the tether. The three of you roll into a pile in the corner of the elevator, now at a 45-degree angle to its previous position.

The last of the insect juices puddle around you in the corner. Spitting doggedly, you scramble out of the pile before you realize that any drastic motion could send you all to your graves.

And you stand still as your friends stand up carefully.

---

johnratchet3:
Assuming they continue to hold a death wish following this unrivaled act of aggression, get the toolkit, prise open the inevitable emergency exit on the roof of the car, and wait for Allene to blow open the face of the first bug to investigate. Following the elevator repainting (I may need a boost for this), burst onto the cable car roof with the shield first, and launch an all-out assault. Crush the first insect I meet into the shaft wall with a crash-tackle using the shield to grind its 'skull' into a pulp. Once I've made a tad of room, start swinging the hammer to keep the insects at bay and continue bashing their heads in. Shout fearsomely as I do so.

The emergency exit has pretty much been shredded by the first mantis; the hole in the ceiling will serve the same function, you suppose!

12

In what can only be described as a heroic act, you leap and clamber through the hole to stand atop the ceiling, staring up into the shaft-

Dozens of mantises fly across the shaft, from one corridor to another, traveling through the tower seemingly in pursuit of some objective unknown to you. The few that attacked seemed to be less interested, and probably stragglers from the group.

If you attracted their attention, it would probably be fatal from sheer dint of the swarm's mass.

Doesn't stop you from cracking a few heads, though. You thump your hammer on your shield as more mantises descend from above-

20

------

Mark reenters the elevator from above, positively drenched in bug juice. He opens his mouth, apparently about to speak-

And instead spits a single compound eye out of his mouth. Seeing your aghast looks, he shrugs.

"What? Gotta kill them in whatever way I can. Think I figured out how to use a shield a bit better up there too- couldn't have killed all of them without the defense it provided."

You decide not to question him about just what happened up there.

"So, we have two exits from this deathtrap now. We should get onto another floor, somewhere besides here- do we crawl up out of the ceiling's hole or down out of the floor's hole?" Mark shrugs. "It's you guys' call."

As the three ponder their escape from this teetering wreck of an elevator car, one last man is in the middle of a precise and careful process of actions.

---

Wesfreak:
Use my prism disk as a mirror to try and see around the curve of the wall.

12

You get an idea to use your disk, with its polished metal-crystal surface, as a makeshift mirror. You won't be able to see any detail, but at least you'll see the contour of the bug and know where it's facing.

It's looking down the stairs, probably suspicious of what just flashed behind a corner. As you watch, slightly nervous, it begins to descend the stairs...

Wesfreak:
If the mantis is facing towards me, then try to bounce a shot off my shield into it's eyes to blind it, then move around the corner quickly and cut off it's head (or plunge my sword into a hole in it's shell, if there isn't any room to swing). Then continue up the stairs after cutting off one of the claw-swords as a souvenir.

You quickly fire one shot from your cryspistol, hoping against all odds to kill the thing.

20

Your bolt quietly burns through an eye and into the brain before the creature even makes a noise, just as it sees the mirror before it. The kill is perfectly silent and exact; if you didn't see the ruined eye there'd be no way to tell the creature was dead. With its death, its legs instead of collapsing freeze in place, and you carefully remove a claw as a trophy before you crawl under it. Maybe leaving it there will confuse any bugs that come looking for you.

As you skulk up the stairs, always looking around the bend with a mirror, you reflect on how incredible that silent pistol kill was. Luckily for you, no further adversaries appear. Eventually, you return to the top of the tower; crawling through a set of trapdoors, past a mouldering room filled with decrepit equipment, finds yourself at the landing platform once more.

Nobody's there except Matilbeth and Netiatono. Well, that and a bunch of dead hornets.

"Aw come on, they left me behind? That is not a cool thing for friends to do."

Netiatono and Matilbeth walk- well, Matilbeth floats on her seed thing- over to you as you pull yourself out of the trapdoor. "Seriously, where the hell did they go?"

Both of the adults shrug. "I think they may have gone after the Geometric Shields, though- they're at the bottom-floor level of the main tower, right under the level that holds the Alchemy Forge if my memory holds correct." Netiatono shrugs. "We'll be flying over to the main tower's bottom entrance, and Matilbeth can get you one of her flying seeds. If we wait any longer, I expect the militia will be overrun."

Matilbeth turns away and begins drawing an intricate rune on her regenerating tablet as Netiatono continues. "Anyways, we'll probably have to run a gauntlet- the ground level has the most enemies so you'll have to be careful and avoid detection."

You nod, all while silently wondering why you're the one who's going through the most trouble. The other five probably haven't had any problems killing off enemies at all, with so many of them. To be honest, the idea of running a gauntlet kind of scares you.

"Get that expression off your face. Hornets can smell fear."

"Wait- really?"

"No, but it sure seems like it sometimes. Or maybe the Hornets just make people scared." Netiatono turns around to talk to Matilbeth. "Marya, is that spell ready?"

Matilbeth curtly nods, still sitting in the air on that fluffy pod-seed of hers, and with a wave of her hand a seed blossoms out of the ground. You grab onto the sturdy fibrous stem and sit in the surprisingly comfortable cradle-seat, before a strong wind blows the three of you into the air, Netiatono now gliding on cloak-wings.

"Alright, make sure you control the direction. The sprout in front of you acts as a joystick." The seed is surprisingly receptive to your commands, and you make a few turns around the subtower beneath the landing platform before the three of you veer off towards the lowest level of the central tower-

"Hornets on the right, watch out. We'll deal with them-" And Matilbeth and Netiatono veer off abruptly, leaving you alone to descend to the bottom of the tower.

Then you look to the left, and- oh, how surprising- Hornets there too, slightly above you in elevation but rapidly descending. They haven't noticed you but they will if you keep going in that direction. Without heavier firepower to guard you, you wonder exactly what to do.

------

Steven finds himself approaching the entrance of the bottom floor level, about to be seen by a group of hornets. With no help available from Matilbeth and Netiatono, who are off fending off another horde of hornets, what does he do?

Mark, Allene, and James find themselves inside a dangerously tilting elevator car with holes in its ceiling and floor, barely held from falling to the ground by a claw pinning it to a wall. They are unaware what floor they are on exactly, but they must decide- will they head up or down?

Jonathan and Kal, along with Tiven and Alchione, face a large hornet hive with limited time and limited resources. Their primary objective is to descend to the ground floor and activate the geometric shields. How will they go about doing this?

Spoiler:

Player Status:

Roll #30

Wesfreak:

New Technique: Sneak Attack

Combat is dangerous and life threatening, but much less so if you attack before the enemy even notices you're there. My experience with the mantis has taught me that ending a fight pre-emptively can literally save one's life.

Sneak attack gives a +2 to attacks when the enemy doesn't see you, or doesn't expect you to attack them (In a friendly situation, for example).

Wesfreak:
Fire three sneak attack shots in quick succession at the nearest hornet, switching targets if the first one dies. Then, commence evasive manoeuvres, spiralling and zigzagging randomly on the horizontal axis, but always going downwards (not too steeply though), while firing at the hornets above me.

You decide to ambush the enemy, and fire off three blasts quickly!

2+2
20+2 OVERLIMIT CRITICAL
5+2

You fire three shots from your pistol, aiming to preemptively slay the hornets without enemy detection, and so escape a costly encounter.

Your first projectile goes completely awry. Your third projectile clips a shoulder rifle and serves no purpose but to inform the hornet to your existence.

The second one is a bit nicer. Your blast penetrates straight through the hornet's side, burning through a container on the side. Instead of a fuel-based explosion you might have expected from any other vehicle, the shattered tank instead emits a continuous stream of enraged bees.

As you watch, the insects, outraged by this intrusion, twist and strike at the rider, who screams in pain as he is destroyed by his own armaments. The insects turn on their transport, and the gigantic hornet for all its strength cannot prevent such tiny things from worming into holes in its carapace. Insects swarm around the hornet's eyes, and as the compound eyes of the unfortunate mount are shredded the hornet goes berserk, crashing into another hornet rider to its left. The bees take the opportunity to spread, and it is not long before both of the airborne insects are sent spiraling to the ground, their wing membranes chewed and their eye sockets hollowed.

The last hornet rider looks towards you-

6

...And decides against challenging you, noticing the ease with which you dealt with two of his friends. He turns his hornets around the tower and vanishes from your line of sight, undoubtedly to report to his superiors. By the time anyone arrives to pursue you, though, you'll be long gone.

Carefully, considering the ramifications of your attack, you descend the side of the tower once more, reaching the bottom level and landing lightly, the seed making no sound as it collapses behind a boulder that conceals it. Peering out, you analyze the situation at the ground level.

The militia have been forced back to the tower's entrance, despite that it is now infested with Arsene-aligned insectoids. The militia seems only to be a third of the size of their enemy forces on the ground, and wounded soldiers are idly trampled by mantises marching over them, the piercing legs exacerbating both their pain and death. Above the beleaguered defenders, the hornet squadrons continue to fire swarms of bees, as entire trenches are abandoned, swathes of two or three meters lost at a time as a single hostile beehive renders the entire trench untenable.

It's a grim sight, a sad sight...

You barely notice all the hornets retreating into the upper floors of the tower for some reason, zooming right above you but ignoring you, as Matilbeth and Netiatono land lightly behind you, alerting you to their presence with a whisper.

"Look."

You look in the direction that Netiatono is pointing in with his crooked finger.

"See that? There's idle silver sparks there, even where there's not supposed to be fighting, in the center of the mantis mass."

"Yeah, I do see it. What does it signify, Master Vie?"

Netiatono wraps his cloak around himself as he shudders. Besides you, Matilbeth is busy carving even more runes in her tablet.

"...If I am not mistaken... That is the current holder of the Radiant Silvergun, Seri Marahi."

Matilbeth hisses something that you barely pick up- "...That woman is here?..."

"What's this Seri Marahi doing here? Is she an Arsene fighter?" You have to admit, you've never heard of either of them, gun or woman, before.

"No, she is not. But she has either contracted herself to Arsene or she is challenging them as well. In any case, the Silvergun constantly emits sparks, a signature of its presence. What is someone of such renown as Lady Marahi doing here?"

...Renown? You've never heard of this person! Then again, perhaps your roots in Raitala have something to do with it.

Matilbeth turns towards you, and speaks. "I do not trust Marahi's presence here. Will we join this battle or will we do something else?"

Netiatono shrugs. "We can easily sneak back into the Tower without being noticed; the entrance is right behind us. What do you suggest, Steven?"

Good question.

How do you proceed?

---

Bigkahuna:
Tell Alchione that putting yourselves in excess danger just to die bravely is not the point of adventuring. Apologize about upsetting her, and tell Alchione that the true purpose of adventuring is multi-purpose: to see the world and experience new things, to further your status and position in life or perhaps carry out a personal quest, but most importantly to help others: to change the world for the better because of what you've accomplished.

You look towards Alchione with a sense of worry in your mind as you cross-reference her young age with the way she holds herself.

"Alchione? Sorry for upsetting you, but..."

"Huh?"

"Before we continue, you must understand one thing. One does not adventure to die bravely, the way you put it- one adventures to help the world and help him or herself, or maybe climb the social ladder or accomplish a personal quest, but most majorly to make the world better-"

"Pfft. Everyone tells me that, but you're missing the point. Everybody dies, and if you're ignorant about how you will die then why bother living? Why do we live in the first place, if we all die eventually?"

"...That's philosophy, and, uh... It's not my specialty."

Alchione tilts her nose at you, a childish show of snobbery, and you find yourself completely stumped for the moment.

"Anyways, we've gotta deal with this. I have a plan- follow it, if not for your own well-being then for Tiven, alright?"

You swear you see Alchione's cheeks flush for a second before she turns and gestures at Tiven. Ugh. You can't understand how young minds work, sometimes.

Bigkahuna:
Brandish and equip my bowler hat with a cavalier air, and explain and carry out the plan you have concocted.

8680:
Strap my shield to my back, then run to the stairs with Tiven and Alchione, using my cryspistol for suppressive fire and my glaive for parrying. Provide more suppressive fire and keep parrying while Tiven plays the piano. Quickly descend the stairs with the others when the ceiling starts to crack.

Tiven nods and whispers back at Jonathan carefully. "I think it's a good plan. Running for it will work as long as the hornets can't get after us, but we'll have to take them by surprise. Each second we spend here is a second they could use to notice that we're here, so we should move-"

"NOW!"

With the yell, Jonathan and Alchione leap from behind the pillar as Tiven and Kal do the same from behind the other pillar. You dash as fast as you can, protecting yourself while firing at the hive. Besides Jonathan, Kal is doing his best with his pistol as well, though it's quite noticeable that his blasts are not quite as powerful as the ones emitted from Jonathan's modified pistol.

Your fire hits the hive-

3

-And the hive fires back at you, as over a dozen hornets awake from hibernation inside the hive to buzz out and attack their aggressors. You count nineteen hornets.

Nineteen?

Light preserve you.

8 (Jonathan)
4 (Tiven)
18 (Alchione)
20 (Kal)

Alchione is the first to arrive at the stairs, and she hesitates to move, eyes flickering for a second at Tiven, lagging the most due to his usage of the heavy keyboard as suppressive fire, before a wave of his hand sends her rushing down the spiral staircase. With extraordinary luck, she managed to escape wound or injury by the poisonous sting-launchers sported on the back end of the hornets, now spiralling after your party and attacking from multiple altitudes. But she's safe for now, and that's one down.

Jonathan isn't so lucky. As he runs, he finds that the hornets seem to be focusing on him and Tiven for doing the most damage as they charge- and as he tries to dodge an attack by leaping he is instead struck across the shoulder by a thin projectile, a long but shallow cut. A sigh of relief is breathed-

8

Until it is discovered that the stinger is poisonous. Luckily for him, though, he isn't in much trouble as he and Kal arrive at the entrance almost simultaneously. Kal flashes Jonathan a grin that he is too woozy to return- and as he leans on the guardrail for support, almost tripping down the stairs, Jonathan realizes that he is definitely in need of an antidote for the poison.

But they are, too, safe, for now.

Tiven hasn't been so lucky, though. As he yells over the cacophony of his piano and the incessant buzzing of insectoid wings, the message he conveys is one more of concern than panic.

"Jonathan! Kal, is he alright?!" Tiven's words are barely heard as he redoubles his playing speed, practically shredding both wall and hornets alike as he continues to advance towards the stairwell. Kal's response only makes him grit his teeth further, the exertion of his rapid-fire playing now manifesting itself in drops of sweat.

"He's okay for now, but the stinger was poisoned! Tiven, forget the attack, run for it! Ditch the piano! You won't make with that heavy thing encumbering you!"

Tiven, still playing at a rate quite honestly scaring you, turns his head even as a splatter of insect juices, milky and pungent, splashes over him- and you realize just how close he is to the hornets.

You also realize that if he stops playing at any point now, the hornets will overpower him, their attention focused on him- and worse, they will also turn to assault those who are hidden in the stairwell. Alchione realizes this as well-

"...NO! Tiven, run for it!" Alchione's voice cuts through the air, piercing Tiven and lifting him from a musical reverie-

2

...But Tiven completely refuses to listen, as the number of hornets emerging from the hole in the wall begins to become overwhelmingly large. The three of you watching Tiven stare, partially in horror and partially in anticipation, as-

1

...As Tiven takes a step back, the waves of enemies forcing him back, no longer able to make progress against the sheer numbers.

He staggers as a long needle penetrates his knee, driving him to one foot, his piano clanging on the ground and stopping his continuous symphony. A second later, he picks up his instrument once more and balances it on his other knee- but the hornets have advanced inexorably in that tiny niche of time, and Tiven, crippled without even a way to walk...

He won't make it.

"Tiven!"

Alchione leaps up the stairs, climbing out of the only place not swarmed by hornets, all focused on Tiven. Kal half-follows her, grabbing his glaive and determined to rescue Tiven-

Jonathan leaps and grabs Alchione's foot, forcefully dragging her back into the stairs, as he furiously, but quietly, hisses into her ear-

"Remember what I said? Don't. DIE!"

Tiven flashes a grin in the general direction of the stairs, before he abandons all pretense of melodical bindings, playing scales of all variants up and down the piano, his hands phasing through the keys in an inscrutible fashion, as reverberating, amplifying waves of power scythe at the ceiling-

And the stairs leading to the upper floors are cut, their central stem severed, and as rocks fall from the ceiling along with the gilded metal spiral, your vision is finally obscured by shadow, as the path to the stairs down are closed by practically immovable stones.

Outside, the buzzing, incessant, finally ceases- though whether it is because you can no longer hear it or because the stones have insulated all sound from you is a question you fear may not be answered.

"..."

After what seems like an hour, Alchione speaks, her voice calm and cool, like a pristine spring of mountain water, recently melted from the purest snow and ice.

"He never found out where his father went, you know. Everyone dies someday."

She stands.

"Let's move on. There's things we still have to do." She throws an antidote at the two behind her; Kal catches it and administers it to Jonathan, who opens his eyes blearily.

And so, with Kal supporting Jonathan down the stairs, the three remaining companions travel in silence to the second floor.

------

The second floor is untouched by battle and war. Its crimson tiles are yet whole, and its walls stand undamaged. Your descent from the central staircase leads you to stand above a large device, not unlike a reactor of some great power, circular in construction with various tubules and notches in its design, imposing itself in the very center of the floor as if it were somehow the core of this entire tower.

Descending from ramps installed on the sides, Kal reads the writings on a plaque riveted on the side of this large device.

"Alkemiforgaz Eido- That'd be Alchemy Forge in our language, but it's apparently one word in Vosalzan. Eido means Item, so apparently this is some sort of Forge of Items?"

Jonathan coughs. "So what, this is a glorified blacksmith's shop or something?"

"Not sure, but it doesn't look like it. No anvils or lathes anywhere. Anyways... It says that there's three settings on this thing. Chaos Fusion, Template A>B, and Ordered Breakdown. It says here... Insert items for recombination here."

You look down and see two large trays that can apparently be shoved inside the device, one labeled A and one labeled B.

"And what does that mean?" Alchione looks at some of the glassy windows on the device, portholes into the interior of the Forge. "I don't see anything."

Kal shrugs. "Dark take me if I know."

Jonathan looks at the trays himself, and shrugs. "I guess this is some sort of a fusion reactor? I'm not sure what this does. Maybe we should put some stuff in and find out?"

The three of you look at each other, wondering what to do with this device and what the four settings imply.

------
johnratchet3:

New technique: Critical Crowd Control
The scene with the mantises on top of the elevator... The swarm of vicious beings attacking from all angles required a different approach to that of a normal battle. When surrounded by opponents on all fronts, combat came down to a spatial awareness, covering the likely line of attack, shifting constantly, directing foes, deflecting strikes, and angling built-up attacks to the nearest threat, making each strike a critical blow. You've learnt from the experience, and will have a +2 bonus to all combat with 4 or more foes in the immediate vicinity.

---

johnratchet3:
Search the immediate area for people, danger, and supplies, especially for medical and technical equipment. Cautiously head towards the ground floor as soon as the option is presented.

20

A moment of inspiration hits you, as you pry back a panel from the inside of the elevator in a search for items and other such things. Behind the panel are various bits of luxtech- and you figure with the elevator out of commission, they won't be missed at all.

Tangled mirrors and strips of reflectotape are removed, and cracked lenses are dispensed of. Eventually, you end up with a handful of usual components. You are rather pleased by this fact, before you remember-

Aren't there usually emergency medical equipment boxes in elevators now?

Pulling a ceiling panel open as well, you are literally showered with gelpacks and bandages, as well as a nice neat antiseptic kit, for the sanitation of wounds and cleansing of hazardous areas. You put it to use cleaning up what remains of the floor, so that James can easily carve his runes.

JackBarber wrote:
Write some runes of slowing on the walls of the elevator in case the blade breaks loose. (Or if someone pulls it out...)
Write some runes of water on what remains of the floor, attempting to get enough water to the bottom to maybe break our fall.
If I succeed in writing the runes, rip the blade out of the wall and let the elevator begin it's slow descent.

8

...The water you manifest drains out of the bottom of the elevator, and vanishes without a trace. You suppose you couldn't expect much more from it. You're not sure if it'll help break your fall, or even if falling on water is better than stone from such an elevation, but you suppose it's worth a try.

Your slowing runes certainly will work, though. You inscribe them on the sides of the elevator car with expectations of a slower fall. As you begin to maintain the runes, you recognize the signature drain on your soul's energy.

Allene mutters something of a prayer as she stands stiffly on the opposite end of the elevator car, and grabs on to the sides.

"Alright, we're going down. Everyone, grab on." Mark follows your advice, attaching himself to the wall stiffly, as you pull out the mantis blade-

Two seconds pass before you stab it back into the wall, slowing your fall once more. As everyone shakes, pulling themselves together once more, you stiffly set yourself to the task-

"We're pulling again and falling again. We'll have to do this a few times, so hang on."

And as you once more retract the mantis claw, using both your prism sword and the claw to increase friction and reduce acceleration this time, Allene's prayers become more and more fervent.

---

Shadowkiller wrote:
Grab on for dear life, No matter what happens..

You grab on for dear life.

As the fall begins, you reflect that it was a good idea.

The praying helped too.

------

THUNK-sploosh

Your elevator lands in the water at the bottom of the subtower's elevator with something of a wet thud.

A cursory inspections shows that the dead bodies of over two dozen mantises slowed your fall. Mark grins as each of you blanche at how many of those mantises he killed himself, judging from the shape of his hammer's impact on their soaked carapaces.

You leave the elevator, carving through the sealed door on the bottom level. The straight corridor before you leads you outside, onto a laser bridge; you see no hornets at all for some reason, and so you travel across the suspensory platform of energy to cross into the main tower.

"...You know, what if Steven isn't here? Maybe he went back up or something, and we've just come down here for nothing." Allene seems doubtful, but Mark reassures her.

"Well, even if he's not here I'm sure he'll have to come down eventually, and we can hole up down here. Better than being exposed to hornets everywhere."

So speaking, you push open a door labeled with some incomprehensible Vosalzan scribbles on a plaque. Inside, you see a huge cylindrical mechanism, dull gray metal flashing with yellow and blue lights alternatively, a spiral staircase standing directly above it, the stair systems built right into the sides of the device.

Besides the device, investigating it, are several humanoid shapes- two tall males and one female child.

"It's them! Jonathan! Alchione!" Mark grins and begins running towards them. "Haven't seen you in a while. Where's Tiven?"

Jonathan and Kal both shoot him an alarmed look- Jonathan even shakes his head emphatically- but Alchione simply looks up with almost a bored expression.

"Tiven's dead. He died on the top floor holding off the hornet hive. That's why there's no more hornets out here, haven't you noticed?"

"..."

The three of you, seeing Jonathan and Kal's gloomy faces, have nothing to say for quite a while. Eventually, Mark tries to break the ice once more.

"...So, uh. What's this thing here?"

And as its function is shown to him, his face lights up in what can only be called a manic grin. Mark runs over to the controls, his face lit up with a childish exuberance as he babbles on about "...hammer to quake HELL itself..." and "...destroy all before me..."

It's a bit worrying, but, frankly, none of you are in the mood to respond at all.

And so six allies find themselves on the second floor of the Tower of the Red Gaze, with one of their number missing and most probably slain, next to a strange device that seemingly does something with items.

Meanwhile, just beneath them, Steven, Matilbeth, and Netiatono consider how to proceed, now that a new development has appeared. What does the arrival of the Argent Lady, Seri Marahi, wielder of the Radiant Silvergun, imply for this Arsene raid?

And how will events play out from here?

Spoiler:

Player Status:

Roll #31

Bigkahuna:
Use a Gelpack. Use the following philosophy with Alchione: "So - why should we live? Why not just end this uncertainty? I'm not sure of your answer, but I know mine. I choose to live - if only because I don't know what comes after this. If I only get this one chance, I'm going to make it worth living for. I believe everyone's purpose in life is to LIVE - and to make others' lives better because of it. Tiven's death was unlooked for, but you can see how our lives were impacted by him being in them. What meaning does life have? None - unless you give it one; just having lived and being remembered in this world is better than not having lived at all. That's also why I chose to be an adventurer, but most of all that's why I live."

16

Alchione stares at your chest, right at her eye level, for an entire minute without blinking, and you begin to feel slightly nervous. She wrings her hands for a second, and then meets your eyes.

She smiles a thin smile.

"...Yeah. We all want to live, don't we?" Her grin grows a little bigger, and the corners of her mouth hardened a bit more. "I think I'll do that."

Somehow, the way she said it... that pale smile, like the reflection of a shadow of a wisp of visceral pleasure.

You decide to change the subject.

Also say to Alchione in an undertone: "I wouldn't give up hope for Tiven yet. There's more to him than meets the eye..."

Alchione smiles again, but this time it is a soft smile, a smile freed from tension. "But how? An entire building fell on him..."

She seems to be fumbling.

"Maybe you shouldn't be so morbid, then, lady!" You laugh a little as you continue speaking. "Tiven's... A different one, that's for sure."

"I'm not morbid!" Alchione seems rather eager to impress that fact upon you, as she keeps yelling in a surprisingly loud voice for a child. "I'm just realistic! And idealistic! Or something, I don't know, but being morbid is bad and I'm not morbid!"

You're not sure if Alchione even knows what the word "morbid" means, but you decide not to ask her about that just yet.

Bigkahuna:
Find three fist-sized rocks, perhaps in the rubble by the stairs. Use the dagger end of my Crystpistol to carve a '=(' into them. Use the Alchemy Forge Setting: 'Template A>B' to merge a teleportal '=(' symbol with my Cryspistol, Mantis Shield, and Prism Disk (NOTE: Always put the symbol in box B and the item in box A.

15, 3, 17

Your respective items are entered, one by one, and separate chambers in the device flare up, opalescent colors shifting and waving inside the viewports.

You open the trays and scrutinize your new acquisitions.

A pistol with distinct, manifold indented lines all around its surface of polished marble yields its cool grip to your hand. You find that the original pistol's form has been subsumed by what seems to be a completely different make of chassis, overlaid with polished blocks. The fine blade at the end is apparently now detachable though you have sacrificed the retracting asset of the knife, and as you pull out the knife you realize that the weapon can return to your hand within a radius of thirty feet at any time.

There is no emoticon symbol on the knife, despite the clear fact that the knife can return to your hand...

Wait, that's not a clear fact at all. How did you know that? And even better- how does the knife work in such a way if it doesn't work by the original rune's methodology?

You are completely confused by your new item's workings. To top that, you distinctly note that the pistol's barrel no longer seems configured for laser blasts. What it's designed to shoot now you have no idea.

You turn to your shield- and are just as confused.

The reflective surface of the mantis's shell is gone, replaced with a frowning, almost demonic face, cheekbones high and fangs slightly showing, the shield now sculpted out of rough stone. An equally gritty handle is built into the back of the shield, and as you heft its multiplied weight you consider that, though the shield has lost its reflective qualities, it might actually be useful for melee combat now due to becoming much stronger... And heavier.

Finally, you heft the prism disk's handle. It seems that this fusion went more predictably than your previous two; around the disk's edge, right above where the prismic energy is emitted in a circle, a ring of emoticons, smiling, frowning, staring, raging, all are reproduced in a continuous ring, allowing for a quite... versatile node in your teleportal network. Atop the disk, where before an abstract shape of energy lines existed, now those same lines are reconfigured into a grinning face, the symbol of your Master Symbol.

Oh, goody. You hadn't gotten around to making a master node, and you figure that the disk will serve you better than just any ordinary rock.

---

ShadoWKilleR wrote:
Combine my rifle with one of my blades, rifle takes precedence.

17

You feed in the rifle and one of your paired crysknives, and watch with anticipation.

The revealed contents do not disappoint.

Where once was a knive and rifle, now there is a singular handle that sports both blade and barrel along the same vertical axis, the two bound into each other inseparably, the rifle's bottom edge combined with the crysknife mechanism so that the entire rifle becomes the central spine for a long, almost bayonet-like blade, capable of both cutting and piercing. The barrel remains the same as ever... Though you note a mechanism above the original barrel with a much thinner slit.

Further scrutiny reveals that along with your original rifle's capabilities, the new mechanism seems to be a crysknife launcher.

You take the new gun-blade-launcher amalgam, marveling at its complete lack of increase in weight. The crystal blade of your new weapon softly shines as you smile and nod.

This will be very satisfactory, indeed.

---

JackBarber:
Toss in my small stone, and my fire scrolls, attempting to make grenade like weapons. Hand the lightning scroll to Mark.

7

Your small stone and fire scrolls go into the strange Forge that operates with systems and logics unknown to man.

At least that's how it seems when you take the result...

A handful of gunpowder. The gritty stuff reminds you of sand in its composition, and it's clear that this isn't really a high-quality fireworks compound. No, this is industrial material, made to blow things up good.

As usual, the system used by the Alchemy Forge escapes you, as you carefully pour the gunpowder into a sterile glass vial once full of potion. Maybe it'll be useful in the future?

---

johnratchet3:
Shove a gelpack on myself (again).

johnratchet3:
Next, Attempt to cut out or salvage one of the kinetic runes inside the fletchette launcher in some way. If they are partially 'locked' in another dimension, I may not be able to copy the rune and memorise it of course, but that shouldn't stop me removing the part in my dimension from the metal and utilising it in another contraption . If at all possible, copy the kinetic rune inscription (inscribe onto something I can store in my pocket for later use), or attempt to make my own my using my augmentation skills to fill in the 'missing half' of the rune using my own common sense, experience, and luck. Test it carefully with something small. If at all successful, copy over to two pieces of scrap metal.

5

You carefully cut out a kinetic rune from the launcher, and though nothing goes wrong you wonder if you did it right. You note that in many items, the runes are interconnected in intricate ways, and without knowing the exact workings of the runes you might accidentally sever a connection and render some runes worthless.

You begin to suspect this happened to some of your runes as you look at them and realize that some don't make sense without a connector. With a sigh, you salvage what you can and try to fill in the missing parts of the runes...

5

...And as soon as your tools touch the edge of a rune, the rune glows bright- as you pull your arm back, the white glow of the rune changes to red. You feel heat on your exposed skin, and watch with dismay as the rune self-destructs, melting both itself and the metal shard it was connected to, leaving a small pit in the floor still burning with smoke. As the others turn towards your tinkering, you sheepishly decide not to try and mess with these runes any further- they obviously have hidden failsafes, or something, you guess.

johnratchet3:
Feed in the fletchette launcher and the shield into the forge, firmly setting the dominant item as the shield. Comment on the concept of an offensive shield, and flip the switch with a manic grin on my face.

10

You grin as you insert your two items. "A shield that can attack! Brilliant, I say, brilliant! None have ever-"

Jonathan coughs as he hefts his prism-disk-weapon-shield with the smiley face thing on it.

"...Stop runing my fun. Ruining. I meant ruining."

You watch the lights settle down, as you pull out your shield...

...Your shield has changed into a metallic form, with reflective plates enclosing what seems to be mechanical parts inside. A frontal plate is missing, which you suspect equates to the damaged format of the fletchette launcher. Inside, mechanisms grind and clank, but your expertise shows you that something is missing.

Indeed, there is a vital part missing, some attaching hardpoint that would, perhaps, complete this offensive shield of yours.

You also note that despite how hard you look, you can't pinpoint the usage or even location of the other mechanisms. You swear they're shifting around, though you know that's impossible. This thing's internals are incredibly complex, and you decide to take it apart to figure it out, before you notice that the outside doesn't seem to have any rivets or bolts that you could use for an easier disassembly.

Slightly stymied by your new item, you nevertheless heft it with pride, and cackle like a madman.

"Mark, what are you doing there? It's just a metal shield."

"Ah, but it is not but a mundane shield! It is pregnant with clockwork, and is but waiting for one last piece to complete it! Soon, it will be the greatest creation known to our generation, an invention of the ages itself-"

"Are you done yet? You've spent more time at the Forge than any of us."

"Have some patience, James!" You grin. "And now, for my Magnum Opus!"

johnratchet3:
I'd like to Copy James' scroll of minor lightning, inscribe it onto something I can carry and store in my pocket (for future use :S ). It's flawed (?) so attempt to improve the inscription as I do so. Find a few pieces scrap metal or materials lying around, and copy the subsequent inscription of lighting onto each of them (4 or 5).

1

You take James' only scroll of minor lightning, and attempt to improve it by burning a few more into it by heating up your metal chisel and then scarring the paper carefully to create burnlines.

Instead, you set the rune off somehow by accident.

A bolt of lightning explodes from the scroll, and rushes right through you, eliciting a cry of pain from you before arcing...

15

...right into one of the trays of the Forge. You stare, horrified, waiting for the device to explode or something- before you see the tray fizzle with sparks, the top edges of its surface acting almost as a cage, small bolts leaping back and forth across the top of the tray like a miniature lightning storm. You watch in amazement as you apply yet another gelpack to heal the lightning's damage.

Even with your knowledge of physics, you're still not sure how that happened.

The entire tray seems rather electrified for the moment, though, absolutely charged with energy. You figure you better take advantage of this, forgoing copying the rune in favor of using the energy directly- gotta capitalize on the instant!

johnratchet3:
This is the big one for me. Take my hammer, give it a look of affection at all the good times we've had, wipe off some of the beetle juice stains, and carefully place it in the center of the forge. Set the hammer as the dominant item. Gather the scrap metal inscriptions together, along with all my luxtech components and a couple of wires, and drop them into forge. Close the hatch, walk over to the controls, give a moment's silence, and firmly pull the switch.

16

And into the furnace go your most treasured items, the weapons that have served you for since you could heft hammers and repair wrecks. You offer fervent prayers as you practically press your face to the window, watching the melding take place under the radiant light...

You are not disappointed.

Your hammer emerges out of the Forge, its handle shortened to become only a foot long, inlaid with dozens of complicated lines of flowing energy that you can't quite identify, the two blunt ends of the hammer now with a hollow tube- or perhaps barrel. Your trusted tool has grown a half-foot spike, through the point of which all the lines flow, converging into a single point. The handle itself includes three triggers, and as you watch, occasional sparks leap from one line to another.

You grin and raise your hammer towards the ceiling, above your head, pressing one of the triggers at random.

The hammer's head shoots out of the handle with veritable force, the spike penetrating through the ceiling, a tense wire connecting the handle with your hand.

You press the other trigger- and the wire electrifies, volts sent through your weapon to end at the hammer's point, now more of a powerful flail than a hammer what with its range.

Releasing both triggers, you adeptly catch your new weapon of choice. Holding it as you would a pistol, you pull the last trigger, conveniently placed as a pistol's trigger would be-

And a fused blast of both lux energy and thunder crackles out of the hollow barrel, a penetrating laser that leaves a neat burn trail on the wall. You note that the further you maintain the electrolaser, the less your hammer glows, and you quickly stop holding the trigger.

You also note that when your hammer is shot out and the internal wires extended, the trigger is unreachable due to being positioned on the hammer's head unlike the other two triggers.

A triple-capability hammer, then! Quite, quite satisfactory. You heft the hammer once more-

"Fear my weapon, ye mortals, for I am as a lightning god, he who calls the ions of the sky!"

The others, looking at you, seem suitably impressed. Well, except for Kal, who seems to be staring into empty space in the corner over there. You're not sure what he's doing, but you could really care less- your new hammer is, in a word, AWESOME!

---

8680:
As I stand by the Alchemy Forge, listening to Mark mutter about hammers and watching Jonathan draw crude faces on rocks, I remember being in a situation like the one I just escaped....

It was our only chance to escape that dark-accursed trap, and we took it. Sabotage their Elemental Reactor. Their guards converging on us... her* Concepts of Strength and Speed bolstering me as I led our small team's charge to safety, back to the main force, my glaive slicing effortlessly through the citadel guards... the daylight at the end of the tunnel, so close... their elite troops closing in... her lagging behind as she summoned an earthquake to collapse the tunnel... lagging too much... telling me, ordering me to run, to save myself and the others, to leave her... the ceiling falling... our team reaching the main force... seeing the enemy golems going crazy and smashing their allies before dropping dead... the reactor exploding, destroying the citadel... knowing that we had won... though it sure didn't feel like it.

I relive this scene and the one that just played out on the floor above over and over for what seems like hours, being forced to analyze my every move, every little inefficiency, knowing that a putting a little more force into that slash or aiming that shot a little better could have saved her or Tiven...

New Technique: Reaper's Run

The player gains +2 on attacks made while in the process of moving, or attacks that involve large movements.

8680:
Snap out of my momentary trance, then search for Alchemy-Forge-suitable... upgrade... stuff. (What should I call it?) If I find any... upgrade stuff... that looks like it would be useful merged into my glaive or cryspistol (e.g. fire, electricity, poison), then fuse it with my glaive, and, if there's enough, my cryspistol. (Glaive and cryspistol take precedence.) Else, fuse my Steel Glaive with a Sharp Mantis Claw. (Glaive takes precedence.)

You take a look around...

1

Nope, nothing. Just rubble, rocks, the steel staircase, the forge itself, and some shattered glass, none of which you imagine would lend desireable attributes to any of your weaponry.

Guess it's the old default then. You place your glaive and a mantis's slightly bloody claw in the trays, and wait for something to emerge. Personally, you don't expect too much from Vosalz technology- certainly nothing compared to the magitech of Pallatir. Or is that your nationalism speaking? Either way, you're not too impressed by your allies' new equipment, though they seem like they're rather pleased.

You've seen and used better things back when you were still nobility in Pallatir. Guess these Raitali guys just haven't seen the world outside their backwater.

20

As the chamber to the forge opens, unveiling the item, you realize that whatever inhibitions you held were, in a word, completely inaccurate.

A fearsome staff, perfectly balanced, topped with a reaper's scythe and halberd fused into one tearing fang, the sides of the blades inscribed with abstract carvings of blades and spikes. The reflective black enamel forming the entire weapon glows with a subtle, red light, and you note that bas-relief carvings on the sides show conquering warriors and monstrous creatures locked in eternal combat.

Underneath the bas-relief, in the deepest hidden crevices of the artistic carvings, drips of blood run here and there, a promise of carnage and destruction in the future.

Atop the glaive, in an intricate cage formed of swirls and spiked branches, a single crimson crystal dully glows from a thousand facets, and a closer inspection reveals that the crystal is in fact a compound eye of some sort, an insectoid oculus bound into your staff.

As you pick up the glaive, a small flare of light emerges from the crystal before fading away. The glaive is balanced most precisely to fit your form...

And you feel, somehow, knowing just like the others instinctly knew about their weapons' capabilities...

That this glaive shall drink the blood of its enemies.

Artifact Item Created!

As you consider your new ominously potent glaive, you consider a crucial question.

What do you name it?

------

As each of the five scrutinize their own creations, Alchione herself steps up to the plate. Some of you look at her, but none of you question her.

In tray A, a seed. Indigenous Oak, by the looks of it.

In tray B... Alchione conceals your view of her item, but you hear a light "Aah!" from her, as if she'd injured herself in some way.

Alchione quickly shoves the two trays into the forge, before any of you can ask her what she just did.

The result of the fusion is just as quickly stowed into her pocket; all you see is a scarlet seed before Alchione turns towards the rest of you.

"So, let's get moving!"

All of you nod and head down the staircases at the edge of the alchemy floor, intent on turning on the geometric shields once and for all.

---

Bigkahuna:
When/If we leave the Alchemy Forge, head to the Geometric Shields.

ShadoWKilleR:
After all the combining are done, call for everyone and relay this plan: (in points cause I am lazy)
- Block all but 1 entrance to a fairly secure room, a dining hall of sorts would be perfect.
- Someone should go call Netatiano and Matilbeth (I think I don't know their names)

"So, we can find a secure room- maybe the bottom floor, if at all possible, or failing that this floor. I mean, we really can't get to the upper floors anymore..."

"Yeah." Nobody liked thinking about that. "We could set up a choke-point..."

"You know, that brings up a REALLY good question." Alchione looked as if she were pondering something. "In fact, it just doesn't make sense!"

"What?"

"Why are the soldiers outside the tower instead of defending it from within and barricading their doors?"

"Maybe the tower got overrun?" Mark shrugs, still playing with his new hammer. "I mean, there's mantises everywhere."

"There'd still be soldiers in here, barricaded up or something! What are they doing outside? I mean, they're outgunned and the best thing to do is to wait out the storm for reinforcements, right?" Alchione shrugged. "Maybe I'm missing something. You guys are adventurers, you should know more, maybe?"

"I'm just as clueless on military strategy as you, Alchione." Allene shrugged. "Still, as a sniper, I should think that the defenders would actually have a better chance inside the tower."

"...We need to find Netiatono and Matilbeth. I have a feeling that this is going to need a lot more firepower than we anticipated."

---

Wesfreak:

New technique: Weakpoint Targeting
Most creatures have weak-points where they are less protected, like the hornet's bee-tank. I should aim my attacks to target my enemy's weak-points, rather than hoping to hit it by chance. This technique gives me a +2 to hit when targeting an enemies weak-point, given that I know where it is.

Wesfreak:
"We need to get as many of the soldiers as we can inside the tower: we're outnumbered out here, and the enemy have at least one extraordinary soldier. We're also in open ground, and easy targets for the hornets. The tower's fortifications will give us enough of an advantage to change the tide of the battle. I'll try to convince the troops to retreat. Can you provide cover for me, and for them?"

Netiatono nods. "Get the soldiers' attention, and we'll see what we can do then. Matilbeth, get in position for a cross-ways covering fire formation." The old lady nods and dashes with commendable speed across the entrance, thankfully not attracting the ire of any enemies, coming to a stop behind another rock.

As you are about to go out and find the leader-

"Wait. Aren't you confused about the hornets at all? Look, up there."

The skies were clear of any insects. You could have sworn there were hornets all around not just a while ago...

"Something's wrong. I don't know what it is, but I feel a change has occurred, and not something paltry like invisibility or a magic wielder. It's something deeper than that, something that's not malevolent or benevolent. And because of it..."

"Because of it, all the hornets are gone? Is that a bad thing? I don't feel anything."

"Don't worry. Once you get stronger magical acumen, you'll be able to feel more things than you ever imagined."

You nod and rush into the crowd of soldiers, searching for a leader.

Wesfreak:
See if I can find a commanding officer, or anyone that looks like they have a rank higher than footsoldier, and try to convince them to lead a retreat, all while trying to avoid fire. If they refuse, tell them that we're not giving up, just moving to a place with more fortifications where we might have a chance to hold the tower. If I can't find anyone, lead the retreat myself.

You sneak through the soldiers, dropping a healing spell here or there to a wounded soldier on the ground. One is healed enough to sit up, and you help him to a reclining position while asking him where a leader was.

"Leader? Uh... Guard Stalman was our leader, but he's dead- those Arses took him out first."

You suppose Arse is a derogatory term for an Arseni soldier.

"So, uh, we don't really have a leader now-" You cut him off with a gesture

"Then I'll just have to fill in."

And with that, you stand up and yell, as loud as you can-

"ALL VOSALZ SOLDIERS FALL BACK! ALL VOSALZ FALL BACK TO THE TOWER ENTRANCE! THIS IS A DIRECT ORDER FROM THE GUARD-DEPUTY!"

14

The soldiers seem more than willing to follow you, and as you help the man on the ground to his feet, he whispers furiously at you.

"What are you thinking!? Don't you know why we're out here in the first place? And you're not the Guard-Deputy! Heck, there's no such thing as a Guard-Deputy!"

"What are YOU thinking? What're you doing outside of the tower? You should know the inside of the tower would be so much easier to defend, and you're getting slaughtered out here! Someone has to lead you, and I'm going to do that."

You heal some other soldiers carefully, spreading your Healing Surge out as wide as possible to avoid notice. The revitalizing effect only causes the retreat to be all the more efficient. As you run with the group, feigning normalcy, the man you helped continues to speak.

"We're only militia! We tried to get inside the tower, but there's... there were already people in there. They locked us out with some sort of magic, and none of us could get through it! We don't live in there, we're just local fighters... Oh Light..."

"So there's no way in?"

A huge chunk of wall is torn off from the side of the tower, as Matilbeth wields her vines with fearsome strength.

"Okay, asking again. So are you sure there's no way in?"

The soldier looks at the new entrance, already the new target for the crowd of retreating militia, and shakes his head.

"Who are you anyways? What are you doing here?"

"Uh... That's a long story."

The group of soldiers, with you at the head, arrive at the new hole in the wall, as Netiatono and Matilbeth shield the incoming refugees from ranged attacks. Pursuing mantises are stymied by walls of plant matter that rise out of the ground before them, and near-randomly manifesting patches of cloth just manage to deflect all arrows and artillery each time a projectile is sent towards the militia.

As you enter the bottom floor, searching for both your allies and the generators, you find your five friends, along with Alchione, descending from an upper floor just on time.

Your eyes set on the generators- and the master switch- right before a hammerblow knocks you right out of the entrance again. You crash into the mass of militia behind you, and as you rise you barely dodge another strike.

A blunt block of ice sails past your face, barely missing you but socking the guy you just healed right in the face. At the least, he's got a broken nose if not cerebral damage. Before you can heal him again, you are forced to run due to a large cloud of icicles descending right on you.

A fireball consumes the icicles, and only steam brushes against your skin, as Netiatono teleports himself into the chamber with a manifold fluorish of cloth. You finally get an opportunity to look closely at the enemy-

A man wearing blue and black robes, with intricate scale-like polygon designs creeping up his sleeves. His shoulders are bare, his sleeves unattached to his shirt, which is adorned with rows of sapphires all around. His face and hairdo are nothing memorable, but in his right hand he clutches one polysilver blade inlaide with runes of jade, and in his other hand he holds an ever-shifting sword of ice, with a steel handle the only permanent part, the frosty blade melting and refreezing continually, every instant a slightly different blade. Around his neck, a set of prayer-beads, each silvery, with shifting patterns contained inside, continually emit a high, cold wind.

Around him, the effects of a permanent chill are obvious, as the ground he stands on is covered with a thin layer of frost. The generator he perches atop seems to have been stopped by sheer cold; icicles hang from its branches, and the exhaust fans, normally hot, are covered by a thin layer of show.

This guy's definitely ice-based, if nothing else.

And besides that, he's definitely one of the Arsene forces' specialized fighters, as the three mantises next to him show- these mantises have blue-enameled shells and seem to be equipped with different weapons. You can only hope that his personal vanguard of insects are only for show.

The man turns to your friends, as they descend the staircase-

"I see I have challengers."

They leap from the staircase, brandishing what seem to be new weapons-

"I am Kelgadaza of the Ascent Peak, and I will see you all fall. Who challenges me?"

Mark yells out first.

"Well, Kelgadaza, it's time to get Kelga-dazed by Mark Roettor of the FUCK YOU HAMMER!"

His hammer launches itself from his hands, charged with lightning, somehow-

Kelgadaza ducks under the hammer with a slide on the icy floor, somehow still capable even with such slippery surfaces- and with a twisting leap emerges upright again, somehow.

"Well, Mark Roettor of the Fuck You Hammer, I do not appreciate your uninformed twists of language."

A dozen spikes of ice manifest upon his back, like frosty wings of divine creatures.

"Taste you the ice of the Ascent Peak?"

Mark barely dodges another wave of icicles with a yelp, and as his friends move in to support him, the mantises themselves advance to meet their master's enemies.

Kelgadaza takes this opportunity to easily block Netiatono's scimitars with his own heavy silver blade, somehow, and dips down slightly to touch the ground with a fingertip.

And a golem forged of ice rises from the ground, its frozen fists massive and spiked. The golem, without legs, is apparently rooted to the ground, as it slides here and there around the perimeter of Kelgadaza's frozen floor, striking at militia members without fail.

And as the six of you finally regroup, you find that you have quite a few comments about your friends-

"You left me behind! You left me to fend for myself and ran off stealing awesome weapons! That is NOT something-"

"Later, Steven. If we don't finish this guy off, we won't be able to get the militia members inside, and then everything will go bad." Jonathan grimaces. "This guy looks pretty damn strong, though."

"What about the generator and shields? That's important too!"

"Yes, but- ICICLE!"

And you dodge just as a shard of ice penetrates the wall again.

...This guy doesn't seem like an easy foe to handle, not to mention that he's practically got the home field advantage, what with the entire floor being frozen and him somehow being able to navigate this icy surface easily- not to mention his ice golem, bound to the ice floor and now cheerfully smashing up soldiers like peanuts. Oh, and the mantises that seem to be able to fire heat-draining waves from their claws. That's a problem too.

Not to mention, this floor is REALLY cold.

What do you do? How do you proceed to combat Kelgadaza and reactivate the generators, now that the militia has entered the base and Matilbeth has sealed the entrance with a layer of trees?

Spoiler:

Player Status:

Roll #32

JackBarber:
Carve some runes of Fire, Water, and Lightning into the back of my shield.
Fortify both my Armor and Shield.

You channel the concept of Fortification, loading your shield with extra defensive power even as you quickly inscribe memorized runes into the back of the shield. In the back of your mind, you feel a slight bit taxed from holding on to so many different magics at the same time, but you think you'll manage.

JackBarber:
Sends out a massive blast of fire from the front of my shield towards the Ice Mage. Scream as I also send waves of water out near the feet of the mantises, "Taste the power of the Ruin Shield!" Sending bolts of lightning as well once/if the water meets the enemy.

6

You unleash a fearsome inferno at the enemy, intending fully on scorching him beyond his limits-

A mantis leaps in the way.

Protecting its master with a heroic sacrifice, perhaps? It will be of no use- your fire will rend it just as easily as air, you anticipate, and as the mantis takes a stable stance and opens its claws-

Your fire is sucked into the claws, absorbed into the blue-and-black-armored mantis's blades with naught remaining but a cool yellow glow around them. The creature chitters at you, as if laughing at you-

9

The puddle of water you've unsuspectingly created has sneaked itself down to the feet of the mantises, and you grin as-

20 CRITICAL

-You release a powerful torrent of lightning through the conductive liquid, the energy diffusing through the ground and converging on the various mantises.

"Taste the power of the Ruin Shield!"

The effect is obvious. One insect's fluids boil instantly, its armor clattering to the ground as wisps of steam emerge from the cracks between. Another one, with only a leg in the water, is violently flung back by the voltage into a wall.

But the last one, the mantis that absorbed your heat-blast into its claws, is completely uninjured. A quick glance reveals that the mantis somehow froze the water before the shock reached it-

The insect flares its back wings open, golden lines of energy similar to its pale yellow glow on its claws opening into an array of lights behind its back. With a shriek being the only warning, it accelerates, a yellow trail of light left behind it as it rushes to impale you-

3+2 Fortification

-You barely bring up your shield in time before a pointed claw, crackling with golden sparks, penetrates straight through it even despite your fortifications, completely rending your runes useless-

A flare of energy bounces from the claw to your form, knocking you away with an explosion. As you crash straight into the staircase's guardrail behind you, putting a substantial dent into its shape (though with only minor damage to you thanks to your scalemail), the last vestiges of your Mineral Skin fall away, leaving you with only a thin layer of shelled-armor.

As you collapse onto the ground, you realize the exact nature of your injury as you see several cracked ends of ribs extending from your chest. The pain forces you to release a howl as, on the opposite side of the chamber, Steven charges towards you, trying to reach you with healing-

1

Before you, the mantis arrogantly shakes its claw, and with a flourish cracks your shield into pieces. You can almost hear it taunt you about your Ruined Shield.

You also note that the mantis's claw no longer glows with golden illumination, and the luminous lines on its carapace are darkened once more- though you're not sure what it means, exactly.

You begin fading in and out of darkness, barely able to remain conscious from the pain, watching as your spilt blood crystallizes into crimson ice...

"James!"

"James, look up at me! Drink this, now!"

1

But you are too weak even to drink, and as Alchione helps you from a prostrate pose to lean against the side of the stairs, most of the herbal potion goes to waste, mingling with the blood of your wound.

---

Shadowkiller:
Load my knife into the knife launcher.

One knife into the launcher, check. You look to your side and see James quickly scrawling runes into his shield before you return to the sniper's trance.

Shadowkiller:
Throw a bolt towards the ice mage's feet after taking aim to where the bolt will land. Fire on the bolt to make it explode.
launch the knife into his head for a finishing blow.

6

You take one of your few remaining bullet bolts and fling it at the enemy like you would a torpedo, hopefully avoiding notice from the ice mage-

A spike of ice erupts from the ground, impaling your projectile in midair- No, wait, that's not right. The spike unfurled halfway, and it seems to have wrapped around the bolt-

The bolt gets thrown right back at you, and you get a split second to react-

10+2

-And without thinking, the sniper's instinct takes over. You shoot the bolt out of the air with your knife-launcher, and only realize the folly of your move after the crysknife is embedded firmly in the ceiling above the center of the chamber, quite beyond reach.

---

Bigkahuna:
Tell Netatiano to go all Pyromaniac on everyone.

...Judging from the spectacle of that fight, you don't think Netiatono needs to be reminded. The man is putting up his best fire-based combat concept magics against Kelgadaza's shields of ice and clouds of penetrating icicle-daggers, but they seem rather stalemated at the moment, neither able to gain an advantage over the other.

Both are now fighting in close range atop the frozen generator with their dual blades, two scimitars versus two heavyswords, a pair of blazing blades versus a pair of freezing sabers. It's almost as if they were designed to be paired with each other in combat, so evenly are they balanced.

You'll just have to change that fact.

Bigkahuna:
Cover myself with my stone mantis shield. Test out my pistol on the mantises to see what it shoots.

You heft your knife and shield in a single hand as you grasp the pistol in the other hand...

A dry, windy sound emerges from your pistol as no visible projectile is emitted. Maybe it's missing something, or something about the circumstances of usage is... Off?

You put it away for now.

Bigkahuna:
Examine my returning knife to how it works without a teleportation symbol, and theorize about how I could replicate this.

0

...You have absolutely no idea how you could replicate this. There's not a trace of magic or luxtech on it, no runes or concept-imbuements or anything, really.

It's like the knife just... works. Somehow.

You get the feeling that this may be a bit deeper than you'd anticipated. Maybe if you found someone who actually knew how the Alchemy Forge worked...?

Bigkahuna:
Go on a frenzy with my returning knife continually hurl it into the mantises' eyes or heads and teleport it back to me immediately afterwards, continuing this until my position is too dangerous to continue. Use my mantis shield as cover.

18

As James is thrown back into the stairs, you throw your knife at the distracted mantis, now losing its ambient golden glow, and you are glad to find that your attack strikes true between two abdominal cracks. The seven-foot mantis turns towards you and shrieks at what is only a minor annoyance-

But by that time, you are already gone. Triggering your Teleportal Network, you latch onto your teleporting disk while at the same time anchoring yourself with the stones you already possess, bouncing around the mantis sporadically in a circular perimeter, throwing stone and knife with every teleport until you've inflicted almost two dozen penetrating strikes in under a minute.

The mantis shrieks and falls to the ground, its energy sapped by wounds, its lifeblood flowing out to the ice, where it freezes. The creature, seemingly having lost its defense against the cold with so much damage, seems to die of bloodloss compounded with hypothermia, its eyes glazing over with a last chitter.

Seems like you've figured out a new application for your teleportal network- while at the same time you realize that the Returning Knife does not classify as a node on the network according to your Master-node Prismdisk's readings. According to the disk, the knife is just the same as any other mundane object.

...Strange.

---

johnratchet3:
Observe the battlefield, and postulate the cause of all these damn mages with their superiority complexes.

It's probably something about being able to manipulate the world around you with naught but your mind and knowledge. You suppose that if you were a mage, you might feel the same way. Light knows you already spend enough time showing off about your hammer, and that's barely even magical.

Actually, you have no idea how your hammer works at all, but you don't really care right now.

johnratchet3:
Examine the battlefield with a bit more scrutiny, make an estimation about where the golemn's focus is, and wait for it to find a lengthy, satisfying distraction away from me (likely one of our oddball company ). Take a run-up towards the ice, heading in the direction of the (distracted) golemn as fast as I can. As I reach the ice, make a long jump forward, and in epic slow motion surrealism, whip out the mighty shield with my left hand, form a crouch in mid air with the shield under my feet, and land on the ice with the shield acting as a slide. Meet any bewildered expressions on our company or the mantis' faces with a manic grin and a thrust of the mighty hammer in my right hand as I rush past.

The golem seems rather focused on smashing the soldiers that Steven brought into the room; the soldiers aren't proving a match for the thing, as every bit of melted ice just regenerates in seconds and the only two fire-wielders, Netiatono and Oranen, aren't really available- Oranen is still hopefully in the sub-tower with the Inkheart while Netiatono is preoccupied with Kelgadaza. Matilbeth is trying to slow it down by binding it with vines, but she's not having much success.

9

You make a running slide, just barely ducking under the mantises by crouching on your shield, through a puddle of water James summoned out of his shield. You barely clear the water before the lightning hits, and you find yourself grateful for that as the sound of screaming mantis echoes behind you.

13

The golem is turned away from you, and it probably hasn't noticed you. Now is your chance!

You balance carefully, still sliding on the ice, and make an agile leap with your hammer in hand, screaming a fearsome battle-cry as you do so, intent fully on grinding that ice thing into oblivion with the POWER OF LIGHTNING!

The shield is left behind as you propel yourself into the air-

johnratchet3:
Upon reaching the golemn, crouch low and build up the heaviest swing I can muster, and aim to imbed my hammer as deep into its torso as possible. If at all successful in this endeavor, flip on the electrolosis (trigger 2), melt that SOAB back to his origins.

4

- With a single backhand, the golem slams you into the air, meeting your lightning-charged hammer's electrolaser without so much as a twinge, and you find yourself abruptly spinning in midair, thrown without control-

12

- Your flailing arm latches firmly onto a handhold.

You look up and realize it is the handle of a crysknife, embedded firmly into the ceiling right above Kelgadaza and Netiatono's fearsome thermal duel.

As you look down, the golem turns once more to fighting the soldiers poking at it with ineffectual pikes, and as Matilbeth conjures a tree to spike right through the golem's chest, the ice construct simply melts around the tree before ripping it out of the ground and bludgeoning the troops with its new club.

Well. This certainly wasn't what you expected. A pain in your chest informs you of the unfortunate injuries you sustained- cracked ribs, probably.

At least you managed to keep your grip on the hammer.

---

Wesfreak:
If I ever see an opportunity when the mage is distracted, then throw my mantis claw knife at him, aiming for his eye.

Kelgadaza's definitely distracted, but there's no way you could get a knife past both the golem and the storm of elemental power resulting from his duel with Netiatono. Just the ambient energy there could probably ruin any semblance of accuracy from your two-and-a-half-foot-long mantis claw.

If I ever see someone critically wounded, heal them. If there aren't any plants in the room, try to use the energy from some of the plants Matilbeth summoned nearby but aren't in use, like my fluffy seed.

But there's definitely a more critical issue for you now-

James is in mortal danger. He's bleeding out from the chest, and chances are that ribs have penetrated the lung- Alchione is trying to get some tinctures in him, but it's not working- James probably can't drink anyways, not with that kind of pain.

It's remarkable that he can stand upright at all like that.

Wesfreak:
Wielding my shield and sword, edge around the battlefield while blocking or dodging attacks, so that I end up behind the mantises without them seeing me.

You run around the perimeter, dodging stray licks of fire and the occasional icicle as you do so, and run over to James' position.

"How is he?"

"Losing blood, fast- I'm not good with people, I don't know what to do!"

"Alright, potions, potions- fast, I think he's got bone fragments in his lungs so he's coughing too bad to drink..."

"I'm not good with people! I'm... I only know about plants! He's going to die too and it'll be my fault again!" Alchione is practically crying at this point, but you have to focus-

"Healing Surge, Focused!"

You have no idea if this will work or not, in this sort of environment-

16

Bone recedes into flesh, blood vessels reweave themselves, and the lung returns to wholeness once more, as scar and dermal tissue begins reforming over the whole thing...

About half of the wound is regenerated before the healing stops.

"Steven! Please, please try again! He's almost healed, and..."

"It's okay, I focused on the lungs. He should be able to drink potions now-"

You slump over, exhausted.

"I think I don't have the power for another healing so soon, anyways. I'm maintaining passive regeneration in him at this point, and it's eating up way too much energy..."

Alchione looks at you fearfully, but you do note a slight glimpse of relief in her eyes.

"Got it, Alchione? He should be fine in a second."

Sure enough, James opens his eyes as soon as you finish speaking, regaining focus in an instant. With only a half-look at the thin scar tissue over his wound, he charges right back in.

You follow him carefully, continuing to maintain regeneration on his wound even as you ask one last question of Alchione-

"You said 'he'll die too'? ...What do you mean by that? What happened, Alchione?"

Alchione does not respond, instead running around the edge of the fight to join her mother against the golem, followed closely by a grim-expressioned Kal.

...You'll have to figure this out later.

---

8680:
"Come. Let's kick this Arse." If the ice, golem, and bugs aren't eliminated, slash at the bugs and golem from off the ice.

You turn and run, following Alchione, skirting the edge of the ice, intent on confronting the golem itself and to assist Mark with his assault-

Mark is slammed into the air, flung above the whole battle by a huge frozen fist, and the ease with which he was deflected rather unnerves you...

But only for a single moment.

7

Your approach to the golem is assisted by Matilbeth, and a wooden root emerges out of the ground to serve as a ramp. You nod and run up it, leaping off with a monumental effort, hefting your new favored weapon-

11

-The head of your black polearm embeds and hooks itself firmly into the head of the ice golem, and as it spins to try to throw you off, you twist along with the golem, keeping a solid grip on your weapon for lack of any place to put your feet.

19

Putting your back into the act, you twist your glaive, turning it into a spiked, makeshift drill.

Your weapon cores through the golem's head, twisting down into the construct's chest before emerging out of its side right beneath the arm in a shower of ice and water. You land, crouched behind the golem-

"Begone."

And as your voice fades, the golem's entire upper torso collapses, ice cracking and splintering under its own weight. Half of the golem's body falls and shatters on the icy ground, the head and left arm broken as well.

As the soldiers cheer, Matilbeth spares a smile for you-

Before the golem reforms entirely, ice sprouting from the wound in instants, a completely new form grown from the inert frozen water without pause. The creature charges forth once more, silently, and as the soldiers turn to flee altogether, their spirit broken, only you, Matilbeth, and Alchione stand before the golem and the militia.

Behind you, your allies seem to be charging Kelgadaza across the ice, but each time the icy floor prevents them from even approaching, barriers, blocks, and spikes of ice spontaneously erupting every time they even set foot on the surface.

This situation cannot be allowed to persist- there's no way Kelgadaza can lose in his natural environment.

You have to melt the ice, somehow-

But the golem seems bound into the ice, the legless construct confined to the edges of the icy expanse on the floor, protecting its borders from those who would challenge his master.

Atop the frozen generator, Kelgadaza and Netiatono continue their deadly dance of elemental might, firestorms and blizzards consuming each other in every instant. Yet Netiatono seems to be tiring, as the natural cold of the environment bites into him even with his voluminous cloak protecting him from the frost-

And Kelgadaza wears a haughty smile as his blades' blows grow stronger and stronger. Netiatono begins to lose ground-

What do you do?

Spoiler:

Player Status: