[Archive]Prismpunk

Roll #34

[Player Characters]

The first problem was how to dispose of Kelgadaza's corpse. At least he wasn't bleeding all over the place- even in death, his blood had crystallized in his veins. The six of you discussed it for a while before Matilbeth sighed and grew a makeshift pyre out of green wood underneath the dead ice mage.

And so, that night, Kelgadaza was unceremoniously cremated by Netiatono.

The six of you spent all of last night organizing supplies, and the process of profiling all the resources available to your tower also allowed you to acquire some new bits of equipment.

The tower was quite well stocked, according to the hundred or so militia now following your commands. The emphasis is on was- for as you descended into an underground bunker-storage, you found that most of the food had been systematically destroyed. The claw marks pointed to this as the work of Kelgadaza's nasty specialized mantises.

The equipment wasn't much better either- but after you smashed them out of the ice, they still worked to some extent. The steel plate-armor was in great condition, but none of you were used to fighting with heavy encumberings, and in the end you decided to claim simple cuirasses for yourselves instead. James passed up the cuirass, stating that he prefered his mantis scalemail, and the rest of you decided not to begrudge him that.

In the far corner of the underground stockpile, a number of ranged weapons- arrows, crossbows, and cryspistols- were arranged neatly on racks. Inspection showed that all the bows were ruined- their strings clipped cleanly, again by the mantises. The cryspistols were destroyed by the ice damage, as were other examples of prismtech in the armory, including prism blades and automated prism rifles. Allene found ten Bullet Bolts, though.

The magical library of the tower wasn't too well developed, but there were some rudimentary runes. James took to them, and replaced his damaged runes with normal runes in the process.

Jonathan in particular claimed Kelgadaza's old Polysilver Blade, while James took Kelgadaza's stately robes. Steven, for his part, asked Netiatono for the ice sword which he had taken inside his cloak.

"Yes, I suppose you can have it. I'm a fire mage- what would I do with an ice sword, anyways? Chances are I'd melt it or something."

And so the well-deserved spoils of the battle were put to use.

Well, besides the equipment, there was also the time spent training with Netiatono and Matilbeth, which seems to have strengthened both you and your teachers. Netiatono commented that he'd never seen learners as tenacious as you six, and in the morning you awake, perhaps, a little more than the person you were before, your soul having grown just further-

Half an hour later, each of you have cleaned up and taken in your breakfast, consisting of some biscuits, cheese, some unknown type of fruit juice, and a single poached egg. You greet each other with grunts, still slightly tired, and wait for the sun to rise over a mass of Arseni troops-

When the dawn comes, the enemies seem to have retreated. Which is all good for you, you suppose.

Bigkahuna: New Technique!

When I was in standing in the midst of the shockwave... Seeing my friends collapse and my life pass before my eyes, I didn't lose hope. In fact, I felt stronger. Faced with a seemingly inevitable fate, it was the strength of my will alone that gave me the strength to defeat overwhelming odds. However, it was taxing... extremely so, and I could not summon this inner strength at will. Using this knowledge, I warily create the Inexorable Will ability, which gives me two one-time use +8 bonuses to a roll per story chapter.

Bigkahuna: Ask Netatiano and Mark about my strange returning knife that works as magical without being magic in and of itself.

20

"Mark? Hey, Mark. Can you tell me anything about my knife? Or some information on what my gun shoots exactly would be nice."

Mark rubs his eyes and takes the knife from you, looking at it carefully and inspecting it on all sides.

"...No idea. Sorry, there's no mechanisms on it- you sure the knife isn't just magical? I mean, I feel kinda like you're trying to describe something that walks like a duck and acts like a duck but isn't a duck."

Netiatono peers over Mark's shoulder, and wth a quick movement of his hand plucks the knife out of Mark's fingertips.

"Wh- Hey! Don't do that, old man, you could have cut me! And don't sneak up behind people either!"

Netiatono makes a point of yawning as deeply as he can in Mark's direction, before taking a look at the knife himself.

"...You know, any other time I probably wouldn't have known what this was. But I think it has to do with the fact that I just woke up."

"What, were you dreaming about magic knifes and, I don't know, you discovered the Universal Equation of Knife-Stabbiness Equivalence in a subconscious epiphany?"

"Ha. No, but I think it had to do with the dream part of your statement. Namely, this resembles..."

"Yes, Master Netiatono?"

"This looks like a Dreamwoven item to me. They're not magical, not so much- or if you want, they're something like another level of magnitude of magic. To put it in comparison, a Dreamwoven item is bound into reality itself- it's function is defined as what it is, and it somehow circumvents explanation on a reasonable level. It just... Works. Like a dream that seems to make sense but doesn't."

"That went completely over my head."

"Perhaps an analogy would suffice? A Dreamwoven item as compared to a normally enchanted item... Well, even if the two items act the same, it's comparable to, say, rolling up a snowball yourself versus casting a spell to gather the snow in a sphere. They're two different levels of magnitude- except Dreamweaving is more akin to creating a new class of object in a system where items are read on a macroscopic scale, not a microscopic scale, so it'd be like making Snowballs a fundamental particle of the universe and then creating one..."

"You're losing me again, Master."

"Well, the universe usually reads everything microscopically. That is, the base state of matter is electrons and protons and such, or other microscopic particles. Dreamwoven items function as if the universe were read macroscopically- that is, the way an object is defined is not as a configuration of ever-smaller parts all the way down to the quantum level, but rather its entire shape."

"What difference is there?"

"Well, that's a topic of debate among naturalistic philosophers. I don't really have the time or the inclination-" Netiatono yawns before continuing. "-to address all this. Again, the University has classes in these things. All this means is that your knife's ability can only really be deflected by either cosmic-level magics or other Dreamwoven items- but Dreamweaving is a rare talent, and few Dreamwoven items exist, I believe. Or that's been true, at least, since beyond memory. People're trying to figure out industrial dreamweaving for mass-production- it would be the greatest find of the last five centuries- except nobody has any idea how Dreamweaving works..."

Bigkahuna: Take the Concept book from Wesfreak and read in it about applications for my concepts.

You nod- even more confused now- and remember how you were studying Steven's book of utilities. Of the skills involved, you were faced with a choice between Communication and Detection.

Eh, you'll practice your newly learned concept later. There's just one important issue for now- one, clearing up the debris, and possibly recovering... Tiven's body. And, of course, a rendezvous with the Inkheart and Oranen. You're sure they're fine- the Inkheart probably wouldn't leave until it could get to Tiven, at least- though you're not sure how it'd respond to Tiven's death.

You don't relish the idea, as you are reminded of how Alchione didn't even bother to come out of her room.

And so, you set the hundred militiamen to the task of cleaning up the tower. The rubble all around each room is moved and cleanly deposited outside of the tower; the large blockages in each stairwell are broken apart by ravenous plant roots in instants, and the stairs are quickly opened.

While Netiatono and Matilbeth continue to oversee cleaning operations, the six of you ascend the stairs with trepidation, none wishing to be the one to dig Tiven's body out of the rubble-

Wait.

Where the dark is all the rubble?

The holes in the walls are still there- but the floor is clean. Pristine, even- no trace of blood, whether human or mantis- nothing is there. Even the holes in the walls are smooth, all rough edges shorn away, as if the walls were built to tolerate the holes in the first place.

The stairs up are unblocked as well, whereas you remember they were blocked when you first arrived.

The six of you stand around, staring for a while. Kal is the only one with the sense to tell the militiamen not to head upstairs.

Finally, Jonathan speaks.

"Tiven and the rubble are both gone. I have absolutely no idea what this means- does anybody here have an idea?"

He gets only shrugs in response.

"...We should head up. The stairs were blocked, but now we can get through- and maybe we'll find some hints as to what happened last night, here."

Nobody seems willing to move, until Mark, nervously, speaks.

"...Does anyone else hear that ghostly music?"

------

You find him perched at the very top of the tower.

No, not the top floor's balcony. Tiven is standing, tip-toed, on the pointed spire atop the tower, the spike that is the tallest point on the entire building. He is playing his acoustic piano with both hands as he faces towards the Arsene army-

"...Tiven?"

He spins around, flailing, his perfect balance lost in an instant, almost falling off the tower-

"Tiven!"

-But there wasn't need for worry. Tiven's roll off the side of the spike turns into a gouging grasp, and with traction achieved Tiven deftly leaps off the steep ceiling to land before the six of you.

"Light bless you, Tiven- how did you get out? Are you wounded?" Steven's amazement at Tiven's survival is only on par with everyone else's shock at Tiven's incredible feat of dexterity.

Tiven shakes his head, and sits down, leaning his piano against the cast-iron balcony of the tower. He stares down at the red cobblestones between his feet instead of meeting any of your eyes.

"Tiven, are you.. Alright?"

Tiven shakes his head again before looking up-

His eyes are a stark, burning silver, with crimson blood vessels running throughout- but only for a second. The burning eyes fade, immediately, to Tiven's normal eyes- as if your soul were shielding your mind from a truth too terrible to bear- and for a split second, you see a small flare of silver light underneath Tiven's shirt before it fades.

"...We need to talk." Tiven spoke, at last- and though his voice wasn't any different, he sounded- older. More tired.

Then again, after surviving massive physical trauma, he definitely had to be very tired.

And so, the six of you sat down with Tiven, together forming a circle, as the young man spoke a tale that was almost beyond belief.

------

"...So what do I do? You've heard everything. What do I do now? What do I do with thirty years- and was it worth what I did?"

Tiven had confided everything. He told you everything- and now he looked up with wide eyes, intermixed fear and hope, lost and directionless- seeking guidance.

"Tiven, you haven't done anything yet. You can't feel bad about yourself already- you haven't done anything to be ashamed of. It's human instinct to want to live."

"...But, when I saw you- my Spiritlash blazed, you saw it. It wanted to consume you six. You're not quite heroic level souls, but if you were compounded you would definitely be a powerful Soulcore- And I don't... I don't want that. Am I going to see every person now as just food, or weapons, or resources?"

It'd be easy if you had some supreme quest against a great evil that you could ask Tiven's help against. It'd give him something to fight against and temper his new powers towards something you undoubtedly knew was wholesome.

If only such a quest existed.

"...Tiven, I don't know- and I don't think any of us know. You're undoubtedly one of the most dangerous, if not most powerful, beings in the world now- and you have to decide how to use it."

"But-"

"If I were you, I'd find something to dedicate myself to, some great task that would give my new powers a challenge. I don't know what it is- but, Tiven, you'll find it. There's no way you won't, Tiven- and there's no way you can go back to Dovrutt, now. You're not the lad you were just a week ago- you're a man whether you want to or not, now." Jonathan was the first to stand up. "Let's head back down."

"Tiven, you should come down and see Alchione. She's not been in the best state since you vanished." Allene shrugged. "Speaking of Alchione, what exactly do you think about her, Tiven?"

Tiven's Spiritlash blazed for another instant before Tiven pulled himself back into a pokerface and shrugged. "Eh, she's... Alright, I guess. She's very nice to everyone."

His reticence is so obvious it's embarrassing.

"...Sure, okay. We should get going, Tiven-"

"HHHHOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!"

A thousand flashing shards of light, glassy bits of energy, shower down on the six of you in a second as a man somehow bursts through the barrier in a flash of green wind-

"FOUND YOU, TIVEN! A-HAHAHAHAHAAAA!"

Of you six, only Mark responds in time.

"Oh no you don't, you're not laying a hand on Tiven!"

"IS THAT SO? WELL, THEN, TAKE THIIIIIS!"

And with that, he somehow manifests a blaster of some sort with green energy lines running up and down its length-

And a blast of blinding emerald light sends a projectile to meet Mark's hammer-

When the light fades, you all see Mark having been thrown back into the tower's inside, punching through part of the central stairwell's guardrail to scrape along the floor for a meter.

And somehow, the new assailant, wearing solid black armor trimmed with green accessories, completely reverses his momentum to bound cleanly onto the same level of the tower as you. You each heft your weapons while Tiven stares grimly and begins to manifest an aura of ice all around him-

The tension is cut by Mark's yell, from inside the tower.

"You knocked me back all that way by shooting an ENVELOPE at me?!"

"ANYTHING can defeat enemies when shot fast enough!" proclaimed the green-clad warrior, pulling off his helmet to reveal a head of unruly chestnut hair and a face belonging to someone of Tiven's age. "That's the way of SPEED!"

Mark, not to be outdone in bravado, yells even louder-

"Guys, GUYS! There's CITIZENSHIP FORMS inside the envelope! One for each of us!"

James, confused, sets down his blade first. "Wait, citizenship certificates? Genuine, stamped, signed, all that?"

"YES!"

"...So we're citizens of Vosalsvrax now?"

"YES!"

"FUCKING YES! WE FINALLY GOT OUT OF RAITALA! WHOOOOOOOO!"

Jonathan abruptly stopped yelling when everyone else looked at him weirdly.

"Ahem, I mean. Yes! We're finally free of Raitala! We-"

The rest of his sentence was consumed by the group embrace and subsequently loud rejoicing.

------

"...so yes, you're all legal citizens of Vosalsvrax now," finished the green-armored man, now sitting down. "The Immortal Lord signed the forms himself. I'm not sure how he got news of you six, but it's long been the case that the Immortal Lord always knows about everything- so hey, welcome to Vosalsvrax!"

"...Did you really have to show up like that?" Tiven asked. "I mean, you could have mailed it to us or something."

"Well, it would have arrived late! The Arsene army is still out there, after all. No messenger worth his pay allows a message to arrive late! That's the way of SPEED!"

"...Dedicated to your job, aren't you."

"Not only that, but there's a bit of legislation stating that all messengers of the government have to make dramatic entrances whenever possible. We get paid extra depending on how dramatic and slash or cheesy it is. It's just that I enjoy it more than most people."

"...Who came up with that rule, exactly?" Allene was slightly frowning at the sentence. "Sounds silly to me."

"The Immortal Lord Tiamat Venthor himself. Hey, I don't question His Immortality's actions- and I don't think you should either."

"Yeah, okay. So I guess we've accomplished our mission, guys?" Jonathan was still grinning.

"Oh, also- The Immortal Lord has..." The messenger squinted at the next few lines on a scrap of parchment he pulled out just then. "...He has- No way."

"What?"

"...The Immortal Lord has given you ranks in the military and assigned control of this Tower of the Red Gaze to you, blah blah death of current warden of tower, replacement needed, blah blah valor and beyond the duty- oh come on this is absurd, you guys have been citizens for less than half an hour!"

Tiven looks at the messenger strangely.

"We... We own this tower now?"

"Yeah, apparently. You get a share of the tithes from the citizens around the tower, and you're responsible for keeping the tower un-destroyed, and you lead the area militia, but that's about it," concluded the messenger, looking around the damaged tower. "Say, you guys have certainly been doing a great job with the second part of that," said the man in a dry tone.

"Gee, thanks."

"Oh, one last thing- Immortal Lord has requested a meeting whenever it's convenient for you seven."

"...What?"

"His Immortality wants to speak with you directly."

"...WHAT?"

"I don't know, His Immortality is strange sometimes. Still, he always knows what he's doing in the end. I suggest you don't keep him waiting. This has been a fun delivery by yours truly, Kiran Cytarn, and blah blah hope to see you again not really by the way BYE."

And with that, he leaps back into the air and vanishes in a flash of emerald wind.

It takes a while before you can wrap your minds around what just happened.

"...Well. That was interesting."

"Thanks for stating the obvious, Kal."

CHAPTER 2 COMPLETE

Player Status:

Spoiler:

Roll #35

Spoiler:

After mulling over the fact, the six of you consult with the militia and get a scope of the resources available to the tower.


You're definitely going to have to do some renovations once you get back from your trip into the Capital.

Jackbarber:
Some runes on Ice, Rock, Healing, Plant/Vines and Explosiveness might also be good to have...

6

Your previous rune search yielded you some interesting runes; one rune, when inscribed on footwear or gloves, seems to give you the ability to affix your feet to a stone surface, making the two effectively one object. Might be useful for climbing, or maybe for blocking attacks with major knockback potential. The only other rune still undamaged was one designed to inflict damage with a direct kinetic burst- an explosion without fire or sound.

Jackbarber:
Find some pairs of gloves and engrave them with my battle runes on the Right, Utility and Healing kind of Runes on the Left, using the extra pairs if I mess up.

9

After going through a pair of gloves, you successfully engrave a glove with tiny versions of the Fire, Water, Lightning, and Explosion runes on each finger. On the other hand, you inscribe the runes of Slowing and Stonegrasp onto your thumb and forefinger, respectively.

You expect your new runed gloves will be quite useful to you in the future.

Jackbarber:
And if there is time, search through the broken weapons in the armory for components.

15

You sift through the various weapon stocks, noting with dismay how the freezing damaged the more complicated components that contained electrofluid. You still manage to recover a good stock of components, though- and all military-grade supplies to boost. You don't have enough pocket space to take everything with you, so you just pick what looks to be worth the most and pocket those prisms.

---

Johnratchet: Work on completing the shield, + (sub-action), learn about the components themselves.

20

Artifact Created!

After hours and hours of toiling work, trying piece after piece- because it's actually rather difficult to build a machine from another base that you can hardly recognize-

You complete the shield, and in the process recognize it for exactly what it is.

It's an amalgamated item- a machine designed to absorb other machines and other sources of metal, a weapon that in time could become something incredibly great- not that you have any idea what it's supposed to develop into, though. That bit's still unclear, but you're sure it'll be awesome. Everything involving you is awesome, right?

As you stare at your new creation, you ponder what to name it- before you notice that the metal railings you leaned it against are fusing into the shield. You pull your shield off quickly- don't want the shield fusing with the entire tower or something, that'd be rather... crazy.

Not that it'd be bad or anything. Maybe you'll have to ask everybody else about trying just that in the future.

---

Shadowkiller: I would like to have learned the concept of Fytevomancy from Matilbeth.

18

Your night was spent practicing the art of Fytevomancy with Matilbeth. The practice was quite useful- one of your more useful skills acquired, beyond basic plant manipulation, was the ability to produce seeds with the same weight, shape, and balance as your Bullet Bolts. These seeds instantly grow into cloying vines to entangle enemy movement, and can be easily produced when normal explosive ammunition is lacking.

After thanking the old mother, you retired to your room, where you spent quite a few hours growing beautiful flowers in practically every corner. A girl's got to have some style, right?

---

Wesfreak: If i'm aloud a hoverboard of some sort, I'll take that.

20

Unbeknownst to the other members of your group, in the very back of the armory, covered in a pile of frozen armors, laid a pearl-white, enamel board ten feet long, its edges streamlined and smooth with elegant fins streaming from the back, like a splashing wave from the ocean converted to a soaring bird. The bottom of the board, inscribed with barytiamantic runes, provided an antigravity ability-

And when you tested it out in the night, where none else could see, you found that, thankfully, the drain on your magic did not exceed your total strength. Your magic is slightly hindered when using the board, true, but you think the utility provided far outweighs the cost.

Wesfreak: Also, I give my prism sword to shadowkiller.

In the morning, you hand your blade to Allene- who seems slightly more pleasant than usual. You notice that she has what seems to be an orchid in her hair- Orchids don't even grow here, do they? Nevertheless, she accepts the prism sword with a polite nod.

---

8680: Upgrade Reaper's Run.

After training for hours in the night, leaping attacks and strikes, spinning into and out of combat with the utmost alacrity and vigilance, you find that your body seems to respond to you better even through the rapid, striking bursts of speed that you tend to apply.

You have to train harder, still. You tell yourself that you must ever strive for excellence, lest you be surpassed by your enemies.

8680: Try to persuade Tiven to teach me some Chronomantic runes.

13

After half an hour of rest from training, you find Tiven, busy discussing something with Alchione. You awkwardly wait in the hallway for another ten minutes before Tiven exits the room-

"Tiven. I would make of you a request."

"What is it, Kal?"

"Perhaps you could educate me on your usage of the Chronomantic magics? I profess that I find an interest in the matters of eternities and beyond. Time magic seems to be an acceptable starting point."

"Uh... Well, it's not that I don't want to- but do you think you can handle it?"

"Excuse me?"

"Chronomancy is one of the most magic-intensive spell types, and even with two powerful souls grafted to me I still can barely keep a hold on it for more than a few seconds. It's incredibly exhausting, even then- and I'm not sure you could handle it without, I dunno, falling over unconscious... or worse. And even at that- Chronomancy is, well, I mean- playing with time itself?"

"...I see your point. I would still prefer that you taught me something even if I could not use it nevertheless."

"Alright, Kal. I guess I can teach you a minor time-freeze spell- but remember what I said! This is difficult stuff, and your magical power may not be robust enough to handle it."

"We shall see."

And so you find yourself learning the secrets of time from someone half as old as you. Quite ironic.

8680: Search the tower for some clothes suitable for meeting the Immortal Lord Tiamat Venthor, Trusted of the Dimensions, Dictator of Vosalsvrax, and whatever other titles he might have..

At noon, a member of the militia delivers a package onto you. Opening it, you find seven sets of stately robes, one set obviously trimmed for a woman, each fit to your measurements perfectly.

You wondered whether they were magically fit, but scrutiny reveals a lack of any enchantment. Perhaps the Immortal Lord literally knows everything without hyperbole?

8680: Combine my Reflective Mantis Shell Shield and my Steel Cuirass in the — no, our — Alchemy Forge.

15

You acquire a Reflective Metal Cuirass!

The glossy chromatic surface of an insect's carapace has combined with the gray sheen of steel; the armor retains the physical resilience of metal but now also includes its capacity for reflection. Definitely the best of both worlds.

---

Bigkahuna: I would like to learn Detection. I would also like to make a technique by combining the Movement and Detection concept to make a primitive Motion-Sensor.

20

You successfully weld the two concepts together, finding it much easier than expected. The motion sensors, upon testing, are quite effective- and not too distracting when activated. The only issue is the continual cost in maintenance, as the sensors continually require magical energy as input. Seems like you can't place too many of these, not to mention that you can't quite differentiate between allies and enemies yet.

------

Bigkahuna: Put on my bowler hat and tuxedo, and suggest that we head out to meet the emperor immediately. We risk much dawdling when involved with one so powerful. Instruct the militia to continue rebuilding the tower with promises of (future) payment, and presumably head out with the group to meet the emperor.


With all myriad preparations completed and the militia placed under the temporary watch of Netiatono and Matilbeth, the six of you along with Tiven and Alchione prepare to depart. You hired two carts from the nearby village, which cost you only 80 clips- out of the tower treasury, of course.

Before you depart, you think you have some things to say, as you brush through your similarly-robed friends to find Tiven and Alchione.

Bigkahuna: Suggest to Tiven that he join the army and fight alongside us. Then he can still retain a feeling of normalcy while still being able to sate his unnatural hunger. Talk to Alchione about recent events... Ask Netatiano about new ways I can utilize my concepts.

"Tiven."

He seems rather lost in thought, with his head down and his silvery patch pulsing as is almost usual for him now.

"Tiven!"

"Whu-"

"Tiven, have you thought about what you're going to do from now on?"

"...I've been thinking and I think I have a few ideas."

"Well, you could always stay with us at the tower. The world is yet at war- and you can join the side we're all on now, right? Vosalsvrax has the highest standard of living out of any of the mainland nations, you know."

"Yes, I know that. Still, fighting doesn't seem to me to be a... resolution. Just getting further in the struggle."

"But if you fight, you can... Sate your hunger. You could take souls and placate your contract-"

"But that's repulsive! I mean- The contract doesn't specifically state that I must consume souls, only that I can. I think it's a test of character- and I intend on passing it. The Gravekeeper thinks he can tempt me into falling- I will not oblige him!"

Tiven seems rather enthused with his tirade, almost as if he's rehearsed this over and over. He must have been thinking about the problem all this time. You turn to Alchione instead, wondering if another opinion might yield new facets on the issue-

"Alchione, what do you think?"

"Me? I, uh. Well, I..."

Alchione seems slightly hesitant, but finally she speaks.

"I've been wondering if there's not a way to find the best of both worlds? If we could, perhaps, create a separate partition of souls, so that we can both preserve them and acquire power from them- some sort of alternate heaven? Being condemned to consumption and eternal obliteration for power is monstrous, whether performed by an eldritch god from the afterlife or a normal mortal in our world."

Tiven shrugs. "Alchione's been going on and on about her new idea. I personally don't see how it's possible-"

"Hey, you don't get to say that, Tiven! It's your responsibility, after all!"

"My responsibility?"

"You're the only one in our world with the power to collect souls, as far as I know! Every time you collect a soul, the Gravekeeper is deprived of the soul- if we could, somehow, divert the soul from your internal soul-furnace as well so that they could be preserved, we'd all be happy, right? You're the key to all this, and it's your responsibility to harvest as many souls as you can so that the Gravekeeper doesn't get to destroy them-"

You're not sure you like where this is going.

"Alchione, are you suggesting Tiven go on a murdering spree to keep souls away from the Gravekeeper?"

"Wh- No! I just... I mean- People are dying everywhere already, and their eternal souls are being destroyed! I think if we can preserve them somehow while finding a way to extract the ambient power from them rather than breaking them down-"

"That's enough, Alchione." Tiven frowned. "I've told you, I'm not doing it. I'm not going to go around harvesting souls like a power-crazed maniac."

Alchione didn't give up, slowly sliding into a pout. "But is it possible? It has to be possible! Perhaps if we can get the Emperor himself to help, then we'll surely have abundant power-"

"The Immortal Lord? Ha. What're the chances that he'll want to help with this kind of crazy scheme? He doesn't even get anything out of it anyways."

"I wouldn't count on him, true, but I would also say that what Alchione suggests is possible." Netiatono shrugs. "I've heard of preservation of souls before, ancestral jars, guiding spirits, imbued family weapons- but they're always highly resource intensive. A massively-scaled operation would be... Well, not impossible, but approaching such on any realistic scale."

"Ah, Master Vie. On that note- you are a master of Concept Magic. Do you have any suggestions for applications of my newer magics?"

"Well, you've done quite a bit with them already. Perhaps you could try, for example, telekinesis. I think you've improved in your magical prowess, so you should be able to achieve it now, whereas you could not before."

"...Telekinesis. I'll be sure to try it after we're done with the Immortal Lord. Not sure why I didn't think of that earlier."

"You are welcome, Jonathan. I believe you should depart now, lest you fail to arrive at an inn before nightfall."

Alchione quickly gives Tiven a hug before he jumps onto the cart with everyone else-

And with that, your party departs on the two carts, stocked with provisions for eating and sleeping, traveling to the City of Nirvana, Capital of Vosalsvrax.

------

It is three days before you arrive in the city of Nirvana. To be sure, the name is not... Well-placed.

Black, imposing spires jut into the sky, like consuming fingers reaching towards the sun with an intent to rip it from its throne in the sky. All around you, shining steel surfaces, passionlessly sterilized, reflect the myriad chromatic colors of a thousand holographically projected signs, advertising myriad services. The people of the streets, though, are just as lively as any city- and the vendors just as many. Occasionally, a vendor actually disappears into the street, some sort of paneling underneath allowing them to retract their stall into the ground- only to pop up a block away to hawk wares at a different market.

In this way, you watch as vendors make their circular rounds around the city. Each foot-lane seems to have an equivalent air-lane, as hovercrafts of all forms ride in the air ten meters above the ground, following the laws of traffic with great order.

It's very imposing, to be sure- and over the horizon is a great mountain. The great mountain- the Vertiplex, atop which exists both the Circle Tower and the Immortal Lord's mansion. And it is in that direction that you head, the city guards recognizing your signed forms to allow you through.

Above you, a fleet of darting fighters patrols the city- real aerial combat golems! You've never seen them before, and you all look up to watch the squadron perform their daily exercises.

Not long after, you arrive at the gate to a great wall around the main upward slope to the Vertiplex. You depart the carts, and pay the drivers their fee before turning back to the monumentally imposing gates forged of twisting ebony wood-

"Hey, you guys here to see the Emperor? Bugger off, he's not seeing civilians today. Got some special guests or something coming soon."

"Would that be us?" And with that, you hand over your special invitation forms.

"...Well, I'll be damned. Haven't seen anyone come here on foot for ages- they always do something magic-fancy, like teleportation or flying or other shit like that. You're allowed in, I guess. The usual policy applies- if you're beggars, go away, if you're petitioners, go to the other government sector, if you're assassins, go ahead and have loads of fun trying to kill the Immortal Lord, et cetera."

"...We're not assassins. Really."

"Doesn't matter if you are, really. No man on earth can kill the Immortal Lord."

And with that, the gates close behind you-

"...Are we expected to climb this mountain?"

The guard yells back at you. "What the dark are ye going to see the Emperor for if you can't even climb a little mountain? If it's too hot, get out of the kitchen, ye dig?"

You look at each other and groan- well, everyone except Steven.

"What the dark is that, Steven?"

"A hoverboard. Don't ask where I found it and I won't tell. Everyone, get on!"

------

A regal man looking only fourty, garbed in black robes reflecting the light of galaxies, sits atop a simple iron throne with an iron circlet being twiddled in his hands. Beneath him, the floor is but simple porcelain tiles with a single red carpet draped over the steps up to the throne. To his side is a table with some papers- but no writing utensils. You figure the man can probably write with the power of his mind or something.

The seven of you fall to one knee and deliver a polite bow before standing up stiffly, waiting for him to gesture or speak or do anything-

"So you're all here! Excellent, excellent! I hadn't thought you'd arrive so fast- I was anticipating a week's wait at least."

The Immortal Lord stands up off his throne- and with one bound leaps all the way over to your group, crossing at least a hundred feet in the movement- and before you can react he shakes each of your hands with lightning speed.

Your arms all feel a bit sore, but none of you are going to say that in front of Tiamat Venthor, the Immortal Lord of Vosalsvrax himself.

Kal speaks first. "My Lord. Your graciousness in accepting our persons into the empire is great. I dare to ask of you what you require of us? We will perform your will to the best of our ability as your citizens and soldiers."

"Oh come on, don't get polite with me." Venthor laughs. "You have no idea how many years I've been waiting for you guys?"

Tiven looks questioningly at Kal. Is this guy crazy or what?

"Anyhow," continues Venthor, "You're all here- Tiven, Jonathan, Steven, James, Mark, Allene, and Kal... And Oranen is missing, isn't he?"

"My lord- how do you know so much?" Allene's confusion was obvious. "How do you even know about Oranen's incident?"

"I know everything! Come on, you should be able to tell by now." Venthor grins. "Don't worry about Oranen- his problems will resolve themselves. We have our own issues to discuss- namely, the fact that Sanja has transmitted information of your defection to the Vosalsvrax Empire to one of the holders of the Triple Chair of Raitala. And that guy's paranoid enough to suspect some conspiracy or something between you guys and me, especially since I gave you all citizenship approximately six hundred percent faster than the process would normally take. In other words, we now have the General Sholo Nabite on our backs, demanding that I cede you guys right over back into Raitala-"

Everyone blanched at those words.

"-But I'm certainly not giving into that youngster's bullshit, right? So that just leaves me with the problem of giving Nabite enough of a beating until he backs down. Which is where you come in. You are going to give that upstart the worst defeat of his life! Well, you're going to. Later."

"Uhm."

"What? Don't tell me you're not confident?"

"Yeah! We can do i-MMMPH!" Mark was quickly choked back by Tiven.

"Well, the fact is.. Not really." Steven shook his head. "My lord, I don't see why you picked us. Why not just conduct this battle like any other?"

"Because I believe in pulling your own weight." Venthor smiled. "Don't worry- he's not attacking for a while due to the two-week ceasefire. And until then, you'll be participating in the Grand Golem Tournament!"

"The what, my lord?"

"Eh, once-every-two-years golem competition held in Nirvana with the cooperation of most other nations. There's a two-week ceasefire while the best golem pilots compete in the tournament in teams of six- cash prize is pretty good too. The ceasefire begins tomorrow, in fact! You guys should probably sign up."

"...We don't know how to pilot golems, my lord." Tiven shrugged. "Where will we get golems to pilot anyways?"

"No problem! You'll learn on the fly. That's the way I've done it for two hundred years! And I'm funding you guys, golems are on the house. You don't get to keep them unless you win, though!"

"But, again- why us?" Jonathan's confusion was deepening itself even further.

"Because-" and his voice lowered in pitch. "Because you'll need to know how to pilot golems in the future. Trust me here."

"But-" Jonathan still looked confused.

"Jonathan shut up do not contradict the Lord he will roast your atoms and then flip the polarity of your electrons and protons around just for kicks if you get him mad so shut up." James was whispering furiously- "Just go with it we'll get golems out of the deal so shut up."

"I've only done that once, and that was against the Primal Bane Zaegmal Nildail himself! Unfortunately, he came back from the dead after that. I was rather surprised." Venthor shrugged. "The golem tournament begins tomorrow, so you should probably prepare yourself, get a sense of how your golem works and all that. You can stay in the palace for the night- the tournament will be held in the back arena, so you might meet some other competitors here as well."

"Thank you, my lord." James elbowed Jonathan again, for good measure.

"Well, that's all. You guys're dismissed- you'll find your golems in your rooms."

And with that, the seven of you bowed and turned around-

The large door was gone, and in its place were six different doors, each labeled with a name.

Tiven's name was conspicuously absent.

"Oh, yes. Tiven, you'll have to stay here for a second, there's some things I'd like to discuss with you regarding the Gravekeeper."

Despite how some of you wanted to listen, common sense overrode your curiosity and you departed hastily down each of the newly formed doors.

------

"So these are our golems? They all look the same." Mark shrugged. "Kinda boring if you ask me."

Before you stand six dull gray humanoid shapes, slightly geometric in design, each with a hollow, black hole where its heart should be.

"Honored guests, the golems are protean constructs. They will conform themselves around an item to embody the concepts that item embodies, and once the golem is bound to an ownership the golem will acquire similar powers as the owner."

"So what, we just... Shove something in that fragile-looking magic cage thing and then bind the golem to ourselves."

"That is exactly correct. The golem tournament begins tomorrow- please enjoy your afternoon."

With that, the waiter departs.

"...You know what? This is absurdly stupid. I thought the Emperor would be someone respectable, not a... a buffoon!" Allene sighed. "Pointless. Utterly pointless."

"Well, he's been alive for almost three hundred years now hasn't he? One would expect anyone to get a little weird after all that time."

"Whatever. Say, where's Tiven?"

"...I don't think he'll be coming back this afternoon."

And so you are left with a set of unbound golems before you and an afternoon to spend. The training field looks somewhat alluring- but so does the prospect of checking up on other possible teams, in the hallways or gardens or dining halls.

What shall you do?

Player Status:

Spoiler:

Roll #36

Shadowkiller: Place a regular bolt into the golem.
Two Possibility Nodes Unlocked!
Selfdestruct: 9 SUCCESS
Crystalbolt: 9 SUCCESS

Your golem turns transparent for a moment before immediately settling into a spicy orange-pink, its form flowing like water before settling in crystalline formations. One thing that's different here from everyone elses' golem is that your golem, like you, is apparently feminine; subtle curves formed from smoothly glossing facets of crystals reflect its self-appropriated gender. The golem looks around for a second, then experimentally does a few hops on its new, fragile-looking legs; finding no issue, it turns back to you. You grin at it and pat it on the shoulder. You also note that your golem is smaller than the others, the same size as a normal human being with maybe one or two inches of extra height.

---

8680: Bind my golem to Shadefang.
Three Possibility Nodes Unlocked!
Bloodthirst: 10 SUCCESS
Polearm: 9 SUCCESS
Seeker: 6 SUCCESS

Your golem twists and turns, elegant leaves of armor sprouting all up around in the same blackened metal as your glaive. Under a piece of armor affixed to the wrist, in a flash of red light, grows a lance of energy that in an instant seems to writhe like a raging serpent before solidifying into a long lance of blackened steel with inset carvings of shredding fangs and rending claws.

The tall, lithe being bows to you in an elegant motion, and you nod. This is quite acceptable, though you feel that it, like you, will probably be more suited to fast strikes than close, continuous fighting.

---

Bigkahuna: Bind my golem with my master-node of teleportation. Name him Paul (some real-life significance, there).
Three Possibility Nodes Unlocked!
Discform: 1 FAILURE
Teleportation: 8 SUCCESS
Laserblades: 18 SUCCESS

All over the golem, concentric circles slowly sink into the golem at equivalent chakra points of the human body, creating detailed geometric patterns when two waves of circles intersect each other. In the center of each circle is a face- and unlike your own, these are exquisitely carved, a plethora of emotions being shown in the finest bas-relief of the ancient sculptors. Though your golem seems to grow no extra details and actually looks quite heavy and slow, you realize the golem has teleportation powers as the concentric circular indentations all light up with the same blue light as your disc. The golem slowly, ponderously, bows to one knee, and you nod in acceptance.

"And from this day forth, your master names you... Paul."

The golem rises as you smile.

"Paul? The hell kind of name is that? You should have named it something manly- like Garen!"

"Mark, what- are you ARM-WRESTLING with your golem that weighs at least ten times your weight?"

"Yes? And? I can totally handle hi-"

Whatever he had left to say was cut off when he got sent flying into the wall. Sighing on the inside, you and Paul quicked followed him...

---

Wesfreak: Put my sharp mantis claw into the item slot in the golem and bind it to myself.
Two Possibility Nodes Unlocked!
Insectform: 8 SUCCESS
Armblade: 6 SUCCESS

Your golem writhes- and its back explodes, extra matter writhing out in a burst to reconverge into a new form, creating a creature with four legs over two- and as you stare, the arms abruptly shatter and are replaced with deadly sharp blades. The head is that of an unidentified insect, halfway between goliath beetle and mosquito, and light steely blue armor covers the entire thing in a flexible carapace. You suspect that your golem will be an agile fighter- and as you watch, the thorax recedes on itself and the back legs melt smoothly in the front one, leaving a biped in its place. The golem bows to you, and you decide maybe to try riding it later. It certainly looks built for riding, at least.

---

Jackbarber: Make a copy of my Runed Gloves with my Normal Leather Gloves, making sure to at the least get Stone Grasp and the Kinetic burst if I fail any others, and Fortify them, slowly place them into the belly of the Beast, watching as it takes it's new form.
Seven Possibility Nodes Unlocked!
Fire: 18 SUCCESS
Lightning: 2 FAILURE
Water: 4 FAILURE
Wind: 12 SUCCESS
Kinetic: 13 SUCCESS
Stonegrasp: 7 SUCCESS
Gauntlets: 11 SUCCESS

Your golem lights up in the instant that you insert your item, a plethora of fluorescent colors running over- and as the rainbow fades, you see three primary colors- red, yellow, and blue- fighting each other for dominance. In the end, red overrules the others, and the sphere of light becomes crimson before abruptly fading-

To reveal a heavy-set fighter, armed with dual gauntlets of solid stone, fingertips sticking out from the gauntlets as to almost be vestigial. Transparent tubes reveal a system of contained heat inside, flames chasing each other up and down circulatory passageways propeled by kinetic power. In the back, dual pumps continually cycle air in and out of the golem, like a giant furnace, and occasionally one of the pistons in the shoulders emits a puff of flame. The golem folds its arms at you, to which you're not sure how to respond- but if appearances mean anything, your golem will certainly be kicking a WHOLE lot of butt.

---

johnratchet3: Stride up to the golem, deliberate the matter carefully, and then firmly plant my hammer into the golem's heart. Watch the awakening with a grin, christen my golem Garen, and promptly challenge it to an arm wrestle.
Three Possibility Nodes Unlocked!
Rangeimpact: 7 SUCCESS
Lightning: 14 SUCCESS
Sledgehammer: 16 SUCCESS

Your golem, as if struck by lightning, jumps back- and its form changes entirely. Its original clay-like form is now replaced by solid steel, gleaming rivets, and tight-screwed bolts, with the mechanical helmet of a knight topped by the twin horns of some demonic bull, all one solid piece of metal. Heavy pieces of armor are bolted all around the golem, and as you watch occasional sparks flicker from exposed pieces of mechanical workings underneath. The golem's twin fists grow become more dull-shaped, less able to grasp but definitely more able to smash.

While everyone else is busy looking at the golem or nodding at, you decide-

"Hey, you're my golem and your name is now Garen. I order you to arm-wrestle me with all your strength!"

The golem nods and pulls over a table, moving at its top speed (which really was quite slow), before kneeling next to it to put itself at eye-level with its master. You grin, rush over, and prepare yourself-

In the first three seconds of the armwrestle, the golem launches its fist out like a missile and sends your arm flying straight off the table, taking you with it- into a wall. As Garen retracted its flying fist on an attached cable, you pulled yourself off the new crater in the wall-

"That was awesome! Again!"

"Uh, I don't think that's a good idea. You'll break your arm." Jonathan looked at Garen and laughed. "Well, you'd deserve it for that idea you just had anyways."

You mutter, but acquiesce. Where does that Jonathan think he's getting off ruining your fun anyways? What a dull guy.

After the entire imbuing process is complete, everyone looks quite satisfied with their golems. Mark, as usual, is the first to rush out, intent on testing his golem's true power on the training field. Personally, Jonathan and Kal both feel that learning how to use a golem just the day before the actual tournament seems somewhat like a lost cause, but damned if James and Mark and Allene aren't going to participate.

As you leave, you look at a map hung on the door in the guest quarters, ignoring everything else in favor of learning only about the arena's design.



...Funny. There's no Training Arena 4? You'll have to ask Tiamat Venthor about it sometime.

---

You find yourself occupying Training Arena Seven. Apparently, arenas are one to a team- which makes sense, you guess. Don't want pilots making grudges before the tournament even begins.

In arenas next to you, namely Arenas Three, Six, and Ten, different teams are preparing as well.

In Arena Three, a single elderly mage is fighting with only his broadsword, against a colossus of a golem that seems to be sending solid-air projectiles at its owner. Practice for both, apparently.

In Arena Six, three pilots- one rather curvy female (wearing rather provocative robes), one hulking male, and another male with a slightly hunched back are discussing something. After a phrase from the female, the heavy-set male laughs uproariously- attracting attention from everyone at the training field. Mark catches the female's glance- and she winks at him, forcing Mark to turn away with a speed born of consternation. Their golems seem to be awaiting commands, standing in a line behind the three.

In Arena Ten, six warriors yell out commands at their golems- it seems the six are in two teams for the moment and are practicing with three golems to a team. Even as you watch, one of the golems suddenly is vaulted into the air by another golem- and while the thrower suddenly charges to distract the enemy, the skybound golem releases a dozen bolts of flashing emerald energy, sending its enemies flying off of the stone arena's floor-

Wait, is the pilot of that airborne golem Kiran Cytarn? The weird messenger guy? You might have to talk with him later.

But for now, you have training to do.

---

8680: Ask one of the servants if I'm supposed to wear my formal robes during golem training; dress in accordance with the answer received (or, if there was no answer or nobody to get one from, dress normally — Venthor did tell us not to be polite).

You haven't seen any servants not busy in the arena, setting up tomorrow's big events; everyone else at the training arena seems to be in casual combat outfits, so you didn't bother putting on formal robes. Good thing too- those collars are stiff.

---

Bigkahuna: Train my golem's teleportation skills in the back to get the hang of using the golem and such.

Wesfreak: Practice commanding the golem.

Jackbarber: Practice a bit, trying to find out all the capabilities of my golem, making sure not to over-work it before the competition.

8680: Go train with my golem (if there are multiple training areas, use the least crowded one).

Shadowkiller: Try to figure out how to control the golem. Try not to explode entire room into tiny bits.

johnratchet3: Provided I'm not killed, practice combat with Garen. Encourage it to practice striking dummy targets, and attempt to pass on my knowledge of multiple-enemy combat. Strongly encourage an arm-wrestle competition between the group's golems.

Without a plan to follow, you each begin giving basic commands to your golems, figuring out what works and what doesn't. The result is rather obvious; Golems can follow direct commands and act capably without your direct overseering presence, but they have no ability to disobey and you can easily override one of their current actions. They also apparently can't be assigned long-term goals beyond generic concepts like "attack enemies" and "protect yourself". Still, you figure it shouldn't be too difficult- Golems are just another weapon, after all, right?

Jonathan's Golem, Paul, turns out to be incredibly fast in action, able to do a chain of teleports all over the place- but you also note that the golem in actual combat isn't the fastest, and that its power source apparently can't power both the laser blades and the teleportation at the same time. It can also apparently throw its laser blades, though depriving oneself of weapons has obvious consequences.

Steven's Golem is fast- and versatile, able to transform from a powerful leaping form with the four legs to a fast dasher without pause. Its blades are sharp- but it shares the usual vulnerability to crushing tools that most insects possess, and you suspect that its true strength may lie in its near-aerial control, with the ability to leap far, far up into the air- and the ability to deploy wings to control the descent's velocity.

James is simply giving commands to its golem- and so far, what he's seen he's liked. The golem is incredibly versatile- its gauntlets could grasp stone with a near-unbreakable hold, while it could also launch flames from almost any part of its body. In addition, its wind and kinetic powers manifested themselves in the ability of the golem to pump a sudden burst of air to knock an enemy in front of it back several meters. The kinetic powers also allowed the golem to inflict increasing amounts of damage in combo attacks, as well as to create short-ranged kinetic explosions.

Kal finds that his golem is nearly as fast, if not faster, than him- and the two are entangled in a blurring fight, with Kal having given his golem orders to fight as if with intent to kill. As the two clash, Kal takes a small cut, barely two inches long, to his hand- and finds that his golem's glaive suddenly became faster, lancing for his heart. At least, nearly overwhelmed and exhausted, Kal gave the order to stop, having learned that his golem was bestowed with great speed and the power to consume blood through the hidden glaive.

Allene didn't meet with as much luck as the others.

For one thing, the first thing her golem did upon being ordered to "Show me your most powerful weapon!" was to self-destruct and explode in a brilliant pink cloud of crystal shards. Allene was, quite naturally, shocked that she destroyed her own golem.

Well, until it regenerated five minutes later. Still, those were some rather inconsolable five minutes for her.

After further experimentation, it was found that the golem could also shoot smaller explosive crystals similar to bulletbolts on the order of "Show me your most powerful weapon that, uh, doesn't make yourself blow up or die or anything." The command was later shrunk down, naturally, to "Fire explosive crystals."

Despite this fact, Allene's golem has turned out to be one of the most durable golems in the entire group, with resilience- and ambient regeneration on top of that, being able to piece itself together even after a self-detonation with time for re-fusing pieces together proportionate to number of pieces. Short of snapping all the limbs off and throwing them away, nobody's sure how exactly to incapacitate Allene's female golem.

Mark has decided to take a similar approach to Kal, and now bare-handedly fights Garen due to the hammer still being in Garen's chest. Naturally, Mark is losing horribly- but Garen also seems to be improving rather quickly. Of course, Mark's attacks are doing absolutely nothing at all. The next time Mark is flung into the air, he lies on his back for a few moments, before he suddenly grins with his face to the sunlit sky.

"Hey guys! I have the best idea ever!"

Collective groans were heard from the rest of the group.

"All of your golems should attack Garen so that he can learn how to fight large groups just like me!"

One minute later, Garen stumbled out of the arena's edge and promptly fell on the cobblestones with scorch marks, blade marks, and dents all over its armor.

"I didn't mean with full force!"

Allene shrugged. "Tough luck, man."

"Well- wait!"

"Eh?"

"I have the REAL best idea ever!"

"Seeing as your last one turned out like this, Iiiii'm not so sure-"

"We should have ALL our golems arm-wrestle! Like an arm-wrestling tournament! A Grand Golem Armwrestling Tournament!"

7

"...No." With that, Kal returned to sparring with his golem. After a few seconds, everyone else returned to their training as well.

"Ah come on guys don't be a joykill-"

Nobody was paying attention anymore.

"You guys all suck."

---

Bigkahuna: After training, investigate the other teams for tips on how to use the golems.

9

You decide to head to Kiran Cytarn's team first; the singular mage in Arena Three seems too... forbidding to approach, and quite frankly that promiscuous woman in Arena Six makes you slightly nervous. Maybe Cytarn will be friendly enough to talk.

As you approach, the messenger sees you first- and grins, dashing over to your side in an instant to shake your hand almost as fast as Venthor himself did during your meeting with the Emperor. You wonder if the Emperor's messengers didn't learn that trick from the Immortal Lord himself-

"Heeey there you're one of those fancy new citizen guys, you're- Jonathan Kmetz, right? And you're competing too? Didn't know you were a golem pilot! Whatcha want?"

"Well, I'm rather new to this whole golem thing. I don't suppose you could give me any tips?"

As you speak, you take a glance over his team's golems. The green-uniformed Cytarn shrugs, as you note that three of the golems seem to be built with heavy shields and maces for defensive fighting, while the other three- including Cytarn's customized golem- seem to be designed for ranged battle. The ol' meatshield plus glass cannon strategy, you believe.

"Well, I'm not sure what to tell you. Goleming's like something you just gotta know and do. Here's some general tips- make your commands precise, and be ready to change your orders on a moment's notice. Golems love conditional modifiers, so you can make sure that you can act in an instant by giving your golem an order to attack as soon as the barrier between the two teams is lifted. Oh, do you know the revised rules? Venthor changed some of the rulings for a more interesting tournament."

"How so?"

"Well, apparently disqualification has been reduced to give the audience more rounds of combat, with some sort of continuous deathmatch algorithm- I'm not too clear on how it works, I just figure if I fight my fights with SPEED and fight well I'll win. That's how everything works, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess it is. Thanks, Kiran."

"No prob! Hope to see you in the ring sometime soon, even if it's as an enemy, heh heh."

With that, you depart back to the living quarters, to prepare some motion-detector spells.

---

8680: Go to the dining hall, in addition to eating, listen to our competitors' conversations.

6

The dining hall is quite loud- at least thirty or so people are crammed in there, eating and raising a clamor. You try your best to hear, but you can only catch snippets.

"...watch out for the Vassals' Supreme Voltaic Beam, I saw that thing this morning and it took out an entire..."

"...Triple Chair are entering golems this year! Hah. Raitala's never had a good golem division, not ever, and I'll be damned if..."

"...Oooooh, really? Hethasila's finally showing off its Ray Golem? I haven't seen it on the practice field, though- maybe they're hiding its power?"

"...old mage in Arena Three looks powerful, be careful, he might..."

"...heard Venthor's up to something, I heard somebody in the hallway talking about a Dream Engine..."

"...new guys from the Tower of the Red Gaze showed up this morning, last-minute entrants bringing the total team number to ten in total. I don't know how good they are, but they seem to be supported by the Emperor himself..."

Huh. They're talking about you guys-

"Hey, you're one of the new guys!"

"...Yes. I am."

"How'd you get here? I've heard rumors that you guys aren't even Vosalz-born citizens and that your certificates are faked-"

"Absolutely untrue." ...This is worrying. What other rumors have been flying around?

"Well, even if it is, illegally sneaking in here is so cool! I'll be rooting for you. Heh. Unless, you know, we have to fight each other."

With that, he leaps off the bench and vanishes into the mass of people before you can ask him questions. Sensing that the dinner is about to disperse, you leave the chamber, hoping that your friends have already eaten in their own room.

---

Wesfreak: After golem practice, go hit the shops. See if I can find a long spool of rope or, preferable, chain. See if I can get a backpack with the concept of storage to carry all my stuff in. (And to let me carry stuff heavier than what I could normally lift, if possible.)

19

As it happens, you find your chain easily, over sixty feet of the stuff, and only for twenty-five clips. You would never be able to carry it, but you tie it around your insectoid golem with no problem. The bag is a bit more difficult, but eventually you happen upon a hawker just about to close his stand at sundown, and after haggling you acquired the bag for a hundred clips. Your purse is running light- but the fact that you can carry items much more easily is worth it. The first thing you do is to place your hoverboard inside, which until then was simply floating besides you as you dragged it along, as well as all of your magic books.

---

Wesfreak: Also, see if I can buy a book on the mechanics of golem combat or a book about the history of the grand golem tournament. Anything that can give me some idea of what I'm going to be up against in the fight.

johnratchet3: After the golem training is done, accompany Wesfreak to the shops and try to pick up a book on golem combat mechanics with him. Split the cost if we find one..

18

The Compleat Historie Of The Grand Golem Tournament Of The Immortal Lord, purchased for twenty clips split between Mark and Steven, now lays open under a streetlight as the two peruse it for the lates tournament.

"New rulings... Instead of defeated teams being removed, the teams are randomly assigned a number from one to ten in the beginning, and then arranged from least to greatest. The first two teams do battle, and while both teams advance to a pair of empty slots in the next round, the winning team is placed in the slot closer to number 1. In addition, a golem knocked out of the arena or divested of its control item cannot be brought back in the next round, allowing losing teams to yet make progress by focusing on destroying enemy golems instead of survival."

"Wait, how do you win then?"

"...In each round, the team ranked 10th is removed from the tournament. So basically we exclude one team per round while all the other teams keep shifting around and displacing themselves to get closer to their actual skill-level."

"Interesting. Not really fair for the guys picked in the bottom two slots, but tournaments can't really get rid of unfairness, I suppose."

Steven closes the book and slides it inside his Bag of Storage. "Come on, the sun's down- we should be heading back."

---

Bigkahuna: Check my room and my formal robes for imbued spells or traps using my Detection concept. If there are any, identify the hazard(s) and alert the others. Try to attune my motion-detectors to the mental signatures of our party. Place a motion detector at the door to my room, and if someone sets it off return to my room to confront them.

4

You detect no traps in the area and find nothing of harm. The room is heavily charged with ambient magic, but you strongly suspect that being within half a mile of the Emperor will do that to any building over enough time. Your attempts to attune your motion-detectors were unfortunately in vain, and you settled with a single motion-detector hidden in the latch between the door and wall.

After that... Well, Steven should be heading back by now, and you had plans to go find Tiven (who you still haven't seen, even as nightfall approaches) and ask him about his discussion with the Immortal Lord. You just hope nothing... Weird happened. Tiven's had enough weird stuff in the last week for a dozen lifetimes over.

---

Wesfreak: After I'm done shopping, find Tiven, if he's done talking to the Emporer. Ask him what the Emporer said.

Bigkahuna: Along with Steven, ask Tiven about his meeting with the emperor.

20 PLOT-RELATED CRITICAL

The two of you find Tiven in the hallways after an hour of searching- and Tiven is almost jubilant, dancing down the hallway with an unbounded smile.

Jonathan is the first to speak.

"...Uh, Tiven?"

Tiven almost runs right into you before he can react.

"Jonathan! Steven!"

"Tiven, what did you do? Are you drunk?"

"No! Do I sound like I'm slurring my words? Listen, you guys- the Emperor's great! I didn't want to tell someone so powerful about the Spiritlash, but he knew about it somehow- and, get this!"

He grabs you two by the shoulder and brings you in, almost conspiratorially-

"He's got a spiritlash too."

To say that the two of you were shocked would be an understatement.

"Tiven- what- he showed you his spiritlash?"

"Yup- over the heart, shining silver, manifests into a powerful lance of flexible light- yeah, it's a spiritlash, though he can manifest it at least twenty times as far as I can. Do you have any idea what this means!?"

"...Uh, that the Emperor is another servant of the Gravekeeper? Because if that's true, that may not be the best thing-"

Tiven responds with a single grin. "Trust me, he's not. He's promised to tutor me on how to responsibly use my spiritlash- and on top of that he's teaching me his chronomancy after I told him about the thirty-year covenant! The Immortal Lord says that there's a way to reduce Time's sight upon you so that you can live much longer than usual and age less, enough to delay the thirty-year limit by at least another thirty years!"

"So you'll live to old age, Tiven! That's great!" Steven was smiling, but Jonathan wasn't so sure.

"Tiven, what makes you sure you can trust the Emperor? He's a person of great power and slightly eccentric, and on top of that-"

"He's the only other man in this world who would understand my powers, right? I mean, you guys are friends with him too! We're all in the same boat, what are you worried about-"

Jonathan cut in. "He's equipped with a spiritlash, and he's amazingly powerful. Are you really intentionally ignoring what that implies in terms of how many souls he must have devoured?"

Tiven was silent for a second. Then-

"...I don't think he's that kind of person. You have no idea- it's... There's this great kinship I feel with him. It's like he understands me- and everything I say I can see that he agrees with. It's almost like he knows me from the inside out. I trust him!"

That last sentence was yelled so loudly the crows outside the wall flew off into the night sky.

"...Alright, Tiven. I, personally, won't question you as much as Jonathan- but how are you so willing to use your spiritlash now? I seem to recall that you were quite disgusted by it not a day ago." Steven shrugged.

Tiven frowned. "Venthor promised me that there was a way to use the lash without consuming the soul directly, like Alchione said- and I believe him. Don't ask me why. If anyone in this world holds enough power to make it a truth, it's him. But I'm still not going to destroy a soul, not ever- there's no reason any other soul should be obliterated by another soul-"

"I understand how you must feel about destroying others souls, and I agree with you. Destroying someone else's immortal soul is reprehensible, and for the well being of your own soul if nothing else, you should avoid it when you can. But don't ignore the ability altogether: Even with only the powers you have now, you have the potential to do much good in just the thirty years you have left."

"I-"

"If devouring a soul is the only thing that can stop you from being killed again, then you have to use your power to save yourself. And, if you find yourself in a position where that is the only option, then it wouldn't hurt to give Alchione's idea a try yourself, even if the Immortal Lord isn't by your side, and try to preserve the soul instead of devouring it. Do you understand me, Tiven? You're important enough to warrant not-dying, not for your own sake, but for the future's sake."

Tiven nods, now all serious. "I'll remember that, Steven. I think we should head to bed now- how're your golems looking?"

"Oh, they look fine. I'll tell you about how Mark got arm-wrestled into the wall by his golem once we get back."

"He did what-"

---

Wesfreak: After talking to Tiven, make an even mix of runes of healing surge and runes of focused healing, as many as I can reasonable make before the contest/ as many as I can reasonable make and still get a good night's sleep.

3

You try your best to draw healing runes, but your mind is too taken with the implications of your discussion with Tiven, and you only manage to make a single rune. Eventually, you find yourself so stressed that your knife is cutting into the table itself-

"Forget this, I'm not paying for a new table. G'night, guys. We should sleep early, the tournament begins tomorrow. I'm going to bed."

"Alright, Steven."

And with that, you close the door to your bedroom, sealing off the main commons and allowing you to sleep.

---

johnratchet3: Name the artifact shield AegisAbsorber. Dutifully return the crysknife to Allene/Shadow. Threaten to absorb her/his gun if there are complaints.

"I hereby name my awesome shield the Aegis Absorber, to be shortformed as AA, also known as Awesome Awesomeness and related A-letter words. Also, hey Allene here's your knife CATCH!"

Allene catches the knife by her fingertips deftly, and frowns. "I saw you considering putting my knife in your golem, you know. And I also saw how that other wench was making faces at you."

"Ugh, that woman creeps me out honestly. Who wears clothes like that nowadays?"

"Suuure, you're not seduced yet. I thought all men loved that kind of stuff."

"Nah, I like girls who actually know their stuff, not peacocks that can only show off their feathers, you know?"

"Heh. I'm going to bed, Mark- see you in the morning, guys."

"Night, Allene. I think I'll go to bed too-" yawned Mark- "gotta get up early in the morning, you know?"

"I believe we should all retire to our respective bedchambers." Kal turned curtly in the direction of his room. "I shall follow my own initiative thus. Good night to you all."

"Yeah, night Kal. I'll go to bed too, I guess." And James closes the door, leaving Jonathan and Tiven the only ones still in the living room.

---

Bigkahuna: If I see the emperor at all during my stay, since he seems rather jovial, ask him why he has been waiting for us for so long - what are we going to do that will be so important?

With only you and Tiven sitting on opposite sides of the coffee table, the room is utterly silent for a few seconds. Then-

"Alright, Immortal Lord. You can come out now."

And Tiamat Venthor, the Immortal Lord, Dictator of Vosalsvrax, Trusted of the Dimensions, phases into visibility right in front of the main door.

"Well, well, Jonathan. I thought I cleared all bugs and detection devices with a general magic wipe while you guys were out training!"

So that's what the ambient aura of magic was.

"Yes, but I did place a motion-sensor when I came back. I should have done that sooner, really."

"A wise move. You never know when someone might try to slit your neck-" The Emperor made a slashing move at his own neck- "and unlike me, having that happen to you guys will actually kill you. Mind if I sit down?"

"Make yourself at home, Emperor. It's technically your home after all."

Venthor unceremoniously sits himself down half between you and Tiven, and for another few seconds nobody says anything.

"...So what's so important?"

"Eh?"

"Why have you been waiting for us for so long? What's so important that will happen in the future? And why you're here in this room now would also be a good question, regarding the circumstances."

"...Well, I was hoping you'd not notice me and go to bed. I intended on teaching Tiven of the nature of human souls this night- but I do suppose he needs sleep, even if he's not participating in a golem tournament."

"And that too. What's with the golem tournament?"

"...To be frank, the golem tournament was an excuse for me to bring you all the way to Nirvana. It's because soon something distrastrous will befall me- and you're the only ones I can trust with that information, to keep everything running while I recuperate."

"What? What could possibly be so dangerous-"

"It has to do with a great secret of mine, one that you already know. It's the spiritlash. We Champions of the Gravekeeper are not well-liked in the world, if only because we are seen as avatars of Death itself. It's really not too badly-justified."

"But how will that lead to a disaster?"

"You'll see. When that happens, you're the only ones I can trust with the knowledge- you already know all about what Spiritlashes are anyways, thanks to Tiven here."

"...But you haven't told us what the disaster is yet." Tiven looked at Venthor. "You didn't tell me about a disaster."

Venthor holds up a hand.

"You don't need to know about the disaster. Even I don't know what it is- all I know is that it's a horrible, horrendous disaster and that it will coincide with my loss of perfect foresight."

"Excuse me, my lord?"

"I have known everything from two hundred and fifty years ago up until now. I have known how everything would play out, including myself- and it's been something of a bore, really. My eccentricity was born as a way to make sure I didn't go crazy or something. But I am about to be freed from that."

"I can't imagine how horrible it would be to know that everything you've lived was preordained," muttered Tiven

"You know, that's really ironic, coming from you, Tiven. Still, it can't be much worse than knowing that your entire life's point was to make a nice soul for a superdimensional death-demon to eat for dinner. I don't imagine anyone but Tiven could have come out of that without losing all hope in life." Venthor coughed. "I can say this for sure, as the last thing I can say for sure with my future-knowledge; by the time this tournament ends, I will no longer be able to act with perfect knowledge of the future as I have with the past. Such knowledge was instrumental in preventing uprisings and resisting invasions, but now... Now I fear that the people will try to capitalize on my weakness. Chaos lies ahead of us, and my only tool of order is about to evaporate."

"But you still have unmatched magical powers, Tiamat-" You finally felt comfortable enough to call him by his first name, because Tiven was right, this guy seems familiar to you, like you've known him for a while, somehow- "and there's no way anyone would dare challenge your powers, not now, not ever."

Tiamat Venthor laughed. "You don't know that. There are people foolish enough to challenge a legendary mage-warlord like me despite all the good I've done for Vosalsvrax, just as there are people foolish enough to punch the embodiment of death itself in the face while floating in the multidimensional afterlife."

"If anyone tries that, we'll help you stop them!" Tiven yelled- though you quickly hushed him. "Everyone else is sleeping, Tiven, try to be quiet."

"Right, sorry," said Tiven.

"Well, anyways, that's the explanation- I called you here because I knew that my foresight was about to end; I called you by using my foresight to determine where people who already knew about the Spiritlash already existed, and that was you."

Venthor stood up.

"Good luck in the tournament tomorrow, and good luck to you as well afterwards. We'll all need it."

And in a flash, he vanished- whether by teleportation or invisibility or chronomancy you would never know.

You and Tiven sat alone once more for a few seconds before you spoke.

"Tiven, go to bed. It's really late now, and we need to sleep."

And Tiven nodded and left, and you went to bed, and you pulled the covers up-

And you could not sleep, not for an entire hour, not for wondering exactly what was going on and what would happen in the future.

---

Morning.

Shadowkiller: Put on my awesome new dress, a girl can't go on with her life without pretty clothes no?

You put on your beautifully decorated dress with gusto, and as an extra mark grow beautiful flowers with petal shapes that match your dress perfectly. The boys will be falling head over heels for you!

But for the rest of the Tower of the Red Gaze...

Wash, dress, breakfast, say hello to party members, put on formal clothes, activate golems, head down to the arena...

And await your team name to be called.

---

"WEEEEELLLLCOME TO THE ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTH GRAND GOLEM TOURNAAAAMMEEEENNNNNTTTTTT!"

The announcer's opening cry was met with great celebration and the best special effects that magic could make. You didn't doubt that Venthor was the hand behind every single one of the beautiful holographic effects in the sky.

"In the next two weeks, we will be hosting ten teams from all across Chiral, the best golem pilots, and watch as they do battle! The duels will be incredible! But first, here's our teams!"

"Team One! Hailing from the Guild of Mentia Exalt, the cleverly named Mentia Exalted! These new graduates are eager to prove themselves, and their golems are also quite eye-catching in their color-coded outfits! Truly, this could be called the Team of Many Colors!"

"Team Two! Who is this mysterious man, wearing a coat to obscure all his features- and what secrets do his golems have in store for us? I guess we'll have to find out, when the Darklands Wildermage himself joins the battle!"

"Team Three! From the Vosalsvrax Military, professional Golem Pilots come to show their finest talent- and they don't intend on letting down their homeland! Whether Vosalz Guard or Emperor's Voice, these men are the finest in the Vosalz warmachine! I present to you- the Imperial Representatives!"

"You may be asking why there's not a Team Four. That's because, as is Tournament Tradition, the position of Team Four is reserved in honor of the Team Four of the One Hundred and First Tournament, the six members of which died bravely fending off an unexpected terrorist attack from the Primal Bane. Let us all have a moment of silence in memory of their bravery..."

And the entire arena went silent.

"...Thank you for the moment of silence! And now-"

"Team Five! A new group known only as the Myriad Weave has joined us here today! This adventurer's group, with the seductive Lamia, the powerful Zeirkio, and the sly Sythril Virdo, will undoubtedly provide a great variety of skills today!"

"...The Myriad Weave?" James frowned. "Tiven's going to want to hear this."

"Hey, it's that seductress woman!" Mark frowned even more. "I already don't like these guys."

"Team Six! Raitala's first entry to the Tournament is today, with the Envoys of the Triple Chair! The Raitali have never been known for their golem technology- but is this tournament the tournament in which they turn the tide and show the world their true golem prowess? We'll be sure to keep an eye on them!"

"Team Seven! A team consisting of the lieutenant-commanders of one of the many Towers of the Red Gaze, these last-minute newcomers only recently fought off an Arsene assault on their tower! Undoubtedly, this caused... Slight delays in their arrival-"

The crowd laughed.

"Play it cool, guys," Muttered Jonathan.

"-so let's give these national heroes a warm hand of applause for their duty to our country!"

The audience's applause was as a huge wave of sound, rushing over them with power equal to a phonomantic enchantment of great magnitude-

"Oh no I can't do this with so many people watching me," whispered Steven. "What if I screw up oh light they'll all see me-"

"Steven, relax. This is a tournament, there'll be losers and winners- just take it easy."

As the applause died down, the announcer continued.

"Team Eight! The Golden Arsene Representatives bring with them a fascinating new golem- biological golems, unlike the stone or metal golems more commonly used! What tricks do the Arsene have up their sleeves with these organic insectoid constructs? I guess we'll have to see!"

"Team Nine! Vornimund of the Estates sends his regards, with six of the finest scientists, engineers, and mechanics of his islands here to pilot custom-built mechanical golems! That's right, golems without any sign of magic! But will they stand up to the ancient ways of magical golems? Let's give Vornimund's Vassals a warm welcome!"

"Team Ten! The Light of Hethasila brings Hethasila's newest development- a Ray Golem! This breakthrough has not been seen in combat and has been largely secretive. What amazing new powers does this high-tech weapon possess, that such secrecy is warranted? Surely it shall be a spectacle like never before seen!"

"Team Eleven! Even Pallatir has participated in this tournament, sending in the team named Servants of Sol Invictus! How will these dedicated priests of unmatched faith fare when placed in warfare- and what secret tricks does Pallatir have up its sleeves this time? Whatever the case is, one thing is for sure- Pallatir's men are confident that the sun shall guide them to victory!"

"Wow, these guys all look like strong contenders. I'm not sure we'll get far in this tournament."

"Relax, we're going to do the best we can- and that's pretty darn good," grinned Mark. "I'm looking forward to bashing some skulls with my golem!"

"Golems don't have skulls."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

---

The first match in the arena is between the Mentia Exalted and the Darklands Wildermage, apparently. You're not sure what to do, so you just watch in the team stands.

Kiran Cytarn edges over to you guys are you're just sitting down.

"Heeey there new citizens and competitors. Who do you think is gonna win?"

Jonathan shrugs. "I watched the Wildermage fight his golem, and the golem's pretty good- as is the pilot. However, I'm sure the Guild didn't send out softies either, this is a worldwide tournament after all. So I don't know."

"Well, hey. I bet you two hundred clips the Exalted will beat that mage. What do you think there? I'll pay triple that if the Wildermage wins."

"Hmm."

As you watch the golems enter the ring and the announcer prepare to begin the battle, you wonder idly how this whole tournament will play out.

Do you accept Cytarn's bet, or perhaps do you even raise the bar?

Player Status:

Golems:

Spoiler:

Roll #37

Bigkahuna: Slyly borrow at least 66 clips from someone who will presumably hand me some money to front the bet. Agree to Cyrtan's bet and see how the battle plays out.

Jackbarber: Bet 50 clips that the Mentia will win.

johnratchet3: Pass on the bet, and simply enjoy the match.

8680: Decline the bet.

“I'm not the betting type.”

Cytarn accepts your words with a shrug, and goes back to hawking his offer.

Wesfreak: I'm not gonna bet: I'm already broke.

While Jonathan seems rather enthused by the idea of this, he's not sure where he'll find enough money to constitute the bet. Even James' support with fifty clips of his own doesn't cover the deficit, and Jonathan feels that he will be forced to decline the wager, before-

"Hey, Jonathan- need some money for illicit gambling, eh?" Tiven grins on the bleacher behind them- when'd he get there? "I'll pay fifty of the clips as well, so the share will be half for you, Jonathan and a fourth for both me and James."

James nods. "I'm okay with this- I'm not too worried about losing money or anything like that."

"It'll be close though: We know the mage of many colours. If his students are anything like him, they'll put up a tough fight. There's going to be prize money for the winners, right?" Steven frowned. "I mean, if there's not, I'm not sure what the point of all this is then."

"Of course! Of course there's prizes- winners get more and more money as they advance through the ranks, and the grand champion wins the grand-one, ten thousand clips!"

"..Ten thousand? I would have expected more from such a prestigious competition. Not that it's not a lot or anything, but I get the feeling most of the teams here wouldn't take such an award as seriously as we would."

"Well, the real money is in the Emperor's Favor. Most of the time, the Favors total up to almost sixty thousand clips-"

"The whats?"

"The Emperor schedules these for his own amusement, right? The Immortal Lord loves to give out specific awards for feats of extreme, in his own words- 'awesomeness', 'epicness', and 'kickassery', which means that teams are encouraged towards awesome over competitive. Not to mention, the Champion can opt out of the cash prize in exchange for one favor from the Emperor himself- you can wish for almost anything you'd ever want as long as it is within the Emperor's reasonable range of gifting. And speaking of the Emperor, that's a very very huge range, right?"

"...Wow."

"Yep! So sit back- the cash you're gambling here ain't nothing!"

So decided, you hand over the money to a grinning Cytarn as all of you focus in on the imminent battle.

---

Bigkahuna: Watch the other teams for their golems' strengths and weaknesses.

Wesfreak: Watch the match carefully, taking note every detail about the golems involved.

8680: Study the match and learn from it. Also watch the crowd for signs of potential danger or suspicious activity..

(D6 rolled for team, evens for ME, odds for DW)
1

[Darklands Wildermage]

(rolls will be in format of opposing team vs. currently viewed team, with accumulating differences representing eventual victory or defeat)

...This is my first round, against six novice hopefuls from that Guild of the southlands. They seem slightly unsure of themselves, but yet they brim with a trust and unity that could cause me to lose. I am, after all, alone- I have been, ever since that demonic swordsman killed my brothers...

So lost in thought, I look back towards the arena-

And as the ring descends, I watch their golems, my enemies, stride forth to the ring, each one controlled by a different pilot. It seems that they are taking a classical approach to this, one golem per pilot. I, however, am not.

My primary golem Veritas, a sleek, green device with glowing purple foci of powers, standing fifteen feet tall with complex aerodynamic acceleration supports on the back, a gravimantic engine on the right hand, and an aeromantic node on the left- and my five supporting Gravitas golems are aligned in position, ready to unleash a barrage of blasts.

...Truth to be told, it should be much easier if Scientias and Lucis were also present with me in this arena. But then again, I wouldn't be here if they and their pilots companioned me still, would I?

13 vs. 18- ADVANTAGE, +5 to Wildermage

As the barrier between our two groups descends, I strike first-

"Veritas, Aerial dash. Open with main aeroblade shower and dodge all incoming attacks. All Gravitas golems, open fire at will, track all enemy targets."

On the other side, I can barely make out their yells, as Veritas takes off with a deafening rush of air and the peculiar feeling in your ears when a barytiamantic working of magic is cast-

"Crimson, blast fire!" "Verde, break down the airblades with your own!" "Solum, throw boulders!" "Cryonis, launch ice daggers!"

And a wave of firebolts and flung boulders and shards of ice are all launched at Veritas, who manages to dodge most of the incoming weapons-

A boulder clips him on the right shoulder, but bounces off. I am thankful that the newcomers, still green, have not yet tried the only viable strategy, as they continue to unleash a barrage of blasts which Veritas puts up with by dodging, even though none of the blasts can penetrate the event horizon.

3 vs. 8- ADVANTAGE, +8 to Wildermage

My five Gravitas golems, though immobile, have largely been ignored thanks to Veritas' spectacle, and now their barrage of barytiamantic blasts sends two golems flying, almost knocked out of the ring save for their ability to fly- the green golem and the blue golem, I see. It appears that each of these human-sized golems is equipped with minor aerial-dash additions.

So knocking them out of the ring will not work-

How about trapping them inside the ring?

"Veritas, use barytiamantic manipulation to increase gravity, and pin the enemies to the ground. We shall assail them from the sky."

8 vs. 6- DISADVANTAGE, +6 to Wildermage

But I am too slow- the Exalted have predicted this. I can only clutch my broadsword in anticipation, as each golem simultaneously takes off in an instant, each of the six taking to the sky for a brief burst, all aiming up for Veritas-

"So you're seeing who truly rules the sky, you youngsters? Veritas, accelerate up."

I am confident that Veritas could never lose his dominance of the sky, not with his mastery of air and gravity-

Before the golems turn, as one, reversing their velocity to each head straight for one of the Gravitas Golems, save for the green one-

"Verde, accelerate, entangle the enemy in dogfight and do not let him return down! Strike with your axe!"

No-

"Veritas! Destroy the green golem, protect the Gravitas Golems!"

I broke composure- I cannot do that again.

As I look on the battlefield once more, the Gravitas golems can't manifest a barytiamantic field and fire blasts at the same time- I critically miscalculated and now those youngsters are using the field as a weapon instead as an inhibition-

But despite it all, I have an advantage. Veritas can obliterate that green golem with ease-

"Veritas, manifest aerosword- cleave the green golem in twain."

Veritas according does so, and one flash later the lopsided pairs of a green golem spark in midair to the spectacular cheering of the audience. Veritas seizes both and fires them down at the ground with intense acceleration, aiming for two of the golems, a red one and a dusky brown one-

15 vs. 5- MAJOR DISADVANTAGE, -4 to Wildermage

Too late.

Too late!

The red golem sinks a blazing firesword into one of my Gravitas golems, critically injuring it, while the brown one instead abruptly spins in midair to deliver a shattering kick to another, sending it flying off the edge of the arena.

Damn- only the first battle, and I've already lost effectively fourty percent of my support golems?

"Petra, you're the best!" A brown-dressed girl was cheering at her golem's successful kick- "Attack the other ground-bound enemy golems now!"

"Veritas, reverse gravity field and prevent them from destroying further Gravitas Golems."

12 vs. 7- DISADVANTAGE, -9 to Wildermage

And falling golems slowed before they could reach the ground-

Three voices yell at once from the opposing team's stand.

"Cryonis, Verde, Azuria- use Triple Combination Beam- Supreme Heavenly Maelstrom!"

As I'm reeling from the yell- what kind of a stupidly complex attack name is that anyways- the white, green, and blue golems point their tools together, the white blade, green axe, and blue hooks crossing-

An unbelievably powerful beam of raw... raw weather is launched forth at Veritas. That's the only way to describe it- blizzards, lightning storms, tornadoes, flooding from deluge rains and unstoppable monsoons are united into a chaotic whirlwind of natural disasters, the sound of the raging storm only outpaced by the frenzied crowd's roar-

This is absurd, and the name makes it moreso- the attack, though powerful, can't possibly be energy-efficient. It's a show of power, raw manipulation rather than subtle efficiency, and I wrinkle my nose at the understanding that the Emperor himself favors such showmanship over utility. I wonder how he remains in power, with such foolishness in matters of scholarship-

"Veritas, double layer shields of air and gravitational deflection."

It's enough- just barely. Veritas has taken damage to the armor, and its gravitational shields aren't what they used to be- how did these kids destroy two of my generators so quickly- but he survives.

And I think I have a trick of my own. I prepare to order Veritas to use his most powerful ability-

"Crimson, Petra, Solum! Triple Combination Beam- Planetary Ignition Corefire!"

...I see that these impudent ones have not yet run out of these absurd attack calls yet.

And yet, as the audience cheered even louder-

2 vs. 1- DISADVANTAGE, CRITICAL FAILURE, -10 to Wildermage CRITICAL THRESHOLD REACHED

The sudden shock at yet another combination attack demonstrated in the first round-

I'm left wondering whether I should go through with matching this reckless bid, to see if I can match the poker chips with my own stock-

In an instant, I make my decision.

"Veritas- dodge with maximum possible speed. Avoid intersection with beam at all costs-"

Veritas, my old, faithful guardian, does so- he tries his best, bless him.

It's just not enough, though- the diameter of that blast of molten magma interspersed with rods of superdense core-metal and unholy magical fire was at least three times Veritas' height.

Veritas falls to the ground, the lower half of his legs incinerated without a trace, smoke billowing from the ends of what once connected to calves-

But I have not finished my command, in the instant it took for that beam of epic firepower to disperse into nothingness in the sky-

"-and retaliate with a Gravitational Singula-"

Halfway about to complete my order, I pause- and the opposing team looks at me with something approaching confusion on their faces.

"...Belay that order, Veritas."

I am not like these foolish younglings who would reveal their greatest weapons in the first round. I will reserve my most powerful tricks for the final rounds, when times are most desperate- and since I'm already in the second slot, I lose little by allowing myself to retain my current position.

"I concede this match and declare the Mentia Exalted victors."

---

"Yeeeeeah you lost your bet, sucks to be you guys."

"Oh screw you Cytarn."

"Hey, it's not like I knew they'd win. Besides, you've got the Emperor's stipend for your tower, you won't be lacking money once you get back."

Kal frowned. "The mage could still have won. He submitted instead. I suspect that he did this in order to conceal his true prowess for the more difficult battles further on."

"You mean the battles will escalate in further tiers? Oh lordy." Mark rolled his eyes. "What were we thinking when we got pushed into this?"

---

Bigkahuna: Now that my party is adjacent to me, again try to attune their mental signatures to my motion detector.

20

Somehow, after seeing the battle before you, you've been inspired- and with a few deft reconsiderations you easily manipulate your conceptual magics to allow for identification. The first thing you do is input your friends as people not to be alerted for, and as a bonus you can generally identify those who trigger the detector if you've already met them.

---

johnratchet3: See if the book on golem tournament 'historie' has any classic match run-throughs, or any of the present team's matches. Take note, and see what they contain..

3

The book seems not to be so much technical guidance as historical notation, and uses terms that you're expected to be familiar with. Given this, you're somewhat lost as the book talks about Kill-Round Averages and Percentile Advancement, as well as shifting priorities through tiers... Thoroughly confusing. Nevertheless, you do pick up some useful implications. Apparently, rounds are fast- really fast. Since each team always possesses exactly six golems regardless of pilot number, matches are generally built around one-on-one combos, as each group attempts to match up golems that can defeat designated enemies quickly. Another battle paradigm is to have all six of your team focus on taking down one enemy quickly, but that has its own risks. Also, aerial superiority is quite important and can change a battle's progress, as the ground-bound ring has no aerial limits, allowing you to simply outrun an enemy.

Some of the present teams are present in the historical annals, but the descriptions aren't generally very helpful. Half the teams are new here, including your own, and the Mentia Exalted generally is composed of different new graduates every year, making historical reference rather pointless. Hethasila's decided to show off the new Ray Golem, which is completely undocumented, and Raitala's first appearance is this year, as well as the strange Wildermage's entrance. The book notes that there's been no civilian or freelance-mercenary teams this year, which is apparently very rare.

Vornimund's golems are always constructed brand new every tournament- they almost always have crazy tricks up their metal sleeves in one way or another. The book notes that Vornimund's team seems to favor hidden projectiles- secret missile launchers, crotch cannons- once, the entire golem turned out to be a transforming aerial bombardment artillery railgun. That year, they got brought down by one of the enemy golems plugging up the launch barrel in sacrifice, but the idea is that Vornimund always has something secret built into that mechanical monster of his.

The Servants of Sol Invictus always do the exact same each year, apparently- they bring out one of their Solar Idols, which can generally break apart into component golems or reform. Common weapons include fire, axes, more fire, molten gold, explosions, fire, and solar lense-beams. Though the weaponry varies sometimes, the attack style is always the same- relentless, berserker onslaught until all the "unbelievers" are destroyed thoroughly.

---

Wesfreak: While watching, ask Kiran what Primal Bane, the terrorist group, is, and if he knows anything about it.

20

"Primal Bane isn't a group, man. Haven't you heard? Zaegmal Nildail, the Primal Bane- our beloved Emperor's greatest rival. When His Immortality defeated the ancient despot Vosalsvik and took control of the empire, Vosalsvik's most trusted advisor and strongest friend, Zaem Nildail, escaped with an oath of vengeance sworn."

"Zaem? I thought his name was Zaegmal or something equally fearsome."

"He came back a year later calling himself Zaegmal Nildail, the Primal Bane- and wielding powers rather beyond our comprehension."

"He changed his name?"

"Yeah, I don't know too much but apparently if you sacrifice your true name you can wear your given name as a mask of some sort instead and bind it to your form as additional power. Don't ask me, I'm not the expert on that- ask Lord Venthor instead."

"Sure. And is that how he got so powerful?"

"We're not sure where and how he got so powerful; a name-binding doesn't explain all of this, not unless he made a deal with some greater power than we know of- and before that, he was little more than a glorified accountant with some cantrips for organization and general utility. But when he came back- he was monstrous."

"How so?"

"He projected a field of decay around him such that all things around him dessicated and rusted and fell to dust and scrap within seconds. It was as if he were consumed by the definition of entropy itself- projectiles can't penetrate the field without disintegrating into ineffectualness within moments, and even magical assaults fail- the equations are subjected to shifts, somehow, and magic breaks apart under the field-"

"So how'd you get rid of him?"

"...Turns out that Dream Artifacts can penetrate that entropy field of his without too many problems. We lured him into an underground sanctum where the Emperor and he were to duel, but instead the Emperor had set up railguns with all sorts of Dream items loaded inside- didn't really matter what as long as it was moving fast enough. Pounded his flesh manifestation into pulp with unstopped barrages of ancestral trophies and legendary weapons and such, and for good measure collapsed the ceiling on him after we left."

"...Whoa."

"Yeah, and you know what? He came back, crazy monster, and decried the emperor as a traitor and coward. The two have been killing each other ever since-"

"Wait, what?"

"Yeah, the Emperor's died by his hands plenty of times, but he always comes back somehow good as new, just sitting on his throne again. I think it's some sort of super-regeneration or something."

"Huh."

Wesfreak: Name my golem Blade.

Why not? Blade is a nice name. It carries with it the subtle threat of a silver knife in the night, and the stoic rage of a warrior in the midst of battle. Simple and understated, if slightly common.

With a quick trigger on your golem, perched in the stands behind you, the action is done- the physical contact not so much any real switch as a mental confirmation of the decision.

---

"Ahem."

All of you turn around at once-

Kiran Cytarn is the first to respond by nearly jumping off of his bench.

"Lady- Lady Hioneus! Wh- What is Your Radiance doing here?"

The woman sat stately in a dress of billowing white robes, inlaid with gold and sapphire in the shape of winding branches and serpents, bearing a black cape upon which the symbol of Vosalsvrax, a burning pair of avian wings, was inlaid finely. She was, as expected- beautiful, radiantly so- but her beauty was ageless, and belied her age. You could believe her to be twenty or fifty- her otherworldly appearance was rather unsettling, once you got past the surface beauty, and you all realized that she, like the Immortal Lord, had persisted for over two hundred and fifty years as well as a leader of Vosalsvrax.

"You are Halcia Hioneus, the Radiant Queen, then, I presume?" Jonathan bowed lightly. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." The rest of you followed suit.

"That's all very alright, friends. You've all spoken with my lord, and I suppose there's no need to introduce myself in an overly polite way." She smiled. "How is the tournament faring for you thus far?"

"It's been quite interesting, my lady- even if some of us feel that perhaps we're not on the same tier of power as these pilots." Steven frowned. "Truth be told, I'm not seeing much of a chance for us to win this tournament, no matter what the Immortal Lord has told us."

"Don't worry- you should know by now that victory isn't your purpose here." Halcia leaned in close- "...And I have important information to discuss. Namely, one of our magical bugs recorded part of a meeting between unidentified conspirators against the Emperor, before it got sort of burnt into a crisp."

Well, that was certainly a fast entry into the main topic.

"...This is unsettling, but not unexpected." Had the Emperor told his wife of the impending 'disaster'? "The Emperor has been worried, as of late-"

"Yes, he's been babbling on and off about the disaster. It's rather strange how much effort he's expended, even building the entire castle grounds as an elaborate spell matrice- What could possibly worry him so much?" The Radiant Lady herself looked slightly worried, in fact. "He's not been like this, not ever, not even when Zaegmal Nildail challenged him- he's always been rather confident in his own ability."

"My lady, I should think that action would be better than words. What can we help you with in light of this new development? What are these conspirators planning?"

"...All the bug heard was that the plan involved... something important. Something under the iron throne. I'm not sure I ought to inform you of its exact nature-"

16

"My lady, I'd think that the Emperor has taken us into his confidence enough for us to be told. What is it?"

"...It's the power source. A powerful engine of Tiamat's own design- I don't know how it works, I've never been much of an engineer or anything myself. Tiamat seems to know everything, really- even with all the time we've been together, I can't fathom how he could learn so much so fast."

"What does it power?"

"...Tiamat told me that it powers everything. I asked him further, but he wouldn't tell me- he just sort of smiled and put his finger on my lips. I suppose he thought it was cute or something, but to be honest it was frustrating."

"Everything?"

"I don't even know what that means, everything in the castle, everything in Vosalsvrax, everything in the world, everything in the universe? I admit those last three are rather unlikely, but still- a plot aimed at something so critical in my husband's eyes isn't something that I can pass up."

"I understand, my lady, but why are you telling us this? What can we do that the Emperor cannot?"

"...Tiamat refuses to allow anyone else to know of this generator of his, or what it powers or how it works or even exactly where it is besides 'somewhere under the iron throne'- until a few minutes ago Tiamat and I were the only beings on the planet who knew. Or, supposedly, we were- though the fact that the plot is aimed at this engine would probably indicate otherwise."

"The Emperor refuses to disclose information and to bolster security? My lady, Lord Venthor is brilliant- is this perhaps not possibly a trap of some sort for his would-be enemies-"

"I doubt it. He's been so worried- and yet he's not doing anything about it! It's entirely unlike him, and this is why I want you to help-"

"Help?"

"Investigate this engine for me. Figure out why my husband isn't doing anything, and protect it yourself if you have to-" The Radiant Lady stood up. "-and if Tiamat gets in your way or tries to stop you, come find me. My chambers are shared with the Immortal Lord."

"Yes, my lady." What were you supposed to say otherwise? You didn't like being sandwiched between two dictatorial authorities in the government of Vosalsvrax, but you couldn't get out of it-

"Alright- so, any other questions? If not, I will return to the royal stand before Tiamat notices that I'm missing. I expect you to begin investigating quite literally right this instant-"

"But, my lady- we will miss the matches if we do, and in this way fail to discover the abilities of our enemies-"

"Tiven can keep watch and record the enemy skills for you."

None of you are satisfied by this, but once more you find yourself compelled to by authority-

Halcia sighed.

"Well, you don't have to go if you really don't want to, or if you don't have any interest in these private matters of ours. I guess I'd understand. It's just that I'd rather this conspiracy be figured out before the tournament really got running- I don't want Tiamat dealing with administration of the tournament and some plot against him at the same time. But if you want to help me- I'd think that investigating the location of the bug or the iron throne itself might have results."

Do you choose to continue and watch the battles, or do you go off on Halcia's request to help her investigate unsettling matters? This is not a group decision- each player is free to make his own choice.

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