by Deck Davis
“Actually,” said Barnard, “I had an alchemist character, back when I first found Soulboxe. I had an item like that, only instead of a canteen, I had an alchemist’s box that would upgrade jewelry. Right now, you can’t transfer upgraded potions from the canteen to a normal vial. But if you had the alchemy skill, and if you leveled it enough, you would get better use from it.”
Tripp did have the alchemy skill, but his skill was only ranked as nickel 2, meaning he’d only leveled it once. It made sense; he’d only used it to create a poison so he could teach a few of his friends a lesson by murdering them.
You know, usual alchemy stuff.
“What did you guys get?” he asked them.
One by one they showed him their loot. Etta earned herself a new set of shoulder braces that repelled arrows.
Her main prize was an object that caused Tripp envy. An hourglass made from an ink-black stone, with pure black grains of sand inside. It was obviously artificed. Even if he wasn’t an artificer, Tripp would have recognized the aura it gave off.
“The Tower Time Tapper,” said Etta, her eyes out of focus as she presumably read the item description. “A three-use device that pauses time. A helping hand now becomes a harmful fist down the line.”
“Meaning if we use this thing, we get punched?” asked Rolley.
Tripp thought he was getting his head around crypt riddles easier and easier now. “If we use the time tapper in a room, then future rooms get more difficult.”
“Ah. Suppose we should be careful then.”
“I can only use it three times,” said Etta. “So we’d have to use it sparingly anyway.”
Rolley found yet another dagger in his loot chest, while Barnard told them he found only a purse of bronze coins. Tripp suspected that was because he hadn’t played much of a role in the first room.
“So we got our loot, and we’re a little closer to knowing what we need to do to beat the tower. What next?” asked Etta.
Tripp nodded at the four alcoves. “We pick a route and find room two. First, hand me your weapons and armor. One item each.”
“That’s a polite way of robbing us, Tripp.”
He grinned. “Just trust me.”
He took Etta’s curved blade, Rolley’s leather armor, and Barnard’s staff. Using his repair hammer and armorer skill, he spent some time and manus working on each item. He added extra defense to the armor, and an additional attack point to both the staff and blade.
“It’s not much,” he told them, “But every advantage helps.”
And it wasn’t much; it was basic work that any armorer would do. More important was the fact that using your skills in Soulboxe advanced them. Now, Tripp saw a glorious string of text appear in front of him.
Armorer skill leveled to Tin 3!
- Weapon sharpening improved by 15%
- Manus cost reduced by 10%
It wasn’t an earth-shattering level-up, but it was useful. After seeing what a manus-sap room 1 was, he was happy that using his armorer skill would cost fewer points. The more manus he could spare, the better. Right now, it had recharged to 35%, and it still didn’t feel enough.
As well as the upgrades, he enjoyed the warm feeling that leveling up gave him. It was a feeling that many critics of Soulboxe said was a cynical way of addicting its players.
Tripp could understand that. Soulboxe relied on players paying subscriptions, and part of that was player retention. Just like how a morning cigarette might make a smoker feel good, so did leveling up a skill.
Some players hopped from skill to skill in Soulboxe, because early level-ups came fast. It meant they were able to get their fix more often.
Of course, the higher your level when you increased it, the stronger the feeling. Reaching tin-3 in his armorer skill felt great. It was twenty seconds before it left him and he could think clearly again.
With his new-found clarity came a new-found idea. He focused on Rolley now, specifically his hands.
“I don’t want to get your hopes up, but I want to try something,” he said.
“For my hands?”
“Maybe. Just an idea I had. Give me a second to concentrate.”
Maybe whatever the tower took away, Tripp could get back with artificery. Perhaps that was part of the point. Part of the reason that one of the four symbols on the door for this tower entry had been a hammer.
Tripp closed his eyes and tried to both concentrate and to completely lose focus at the same time. This was a confusing state where he tuned everything else out, but then grew an air of focus in his head. This was where increasing his mind stats when he leveled proved useful.
When he could see nothing in his mind but an endless, white light, he was ready.
It was time to create a crafting card using his artificer-inventor skill. It was a card that would deal with a unique Soulboxe problem, therefore the card would be unique, too. Tripp was sure nothing like this had been done in Soulboxe before.
First, he imagined a steel gauntlet. But no sooner did he see it in his mind, then he changed it to leather. Leather was easier to work with, and the crafting card would be so complex that he needed simplicity wherever he could find it.
So he pictured a big, leather glove, tanned and with light-colored stitching.
It looked cumbersome, so he made it thinner, losing durability but gaining flexibility.
With the base glove fixed in his head, it was time for the tricky artificery.
He imagined a faint blue light around the glove, indicating essence. And then he commanded the fingers to move.
The glove refused to comply, and Tripp didn’t know where he’d gone wrong. If he couldn’t even create the crafting card in his mind, how was he supposed to make the real thing for Rolley?
Wait a second.
He was thinking of the wrong kind of essence, that was all.
In his imagination, he replaced the blue light with black, like smoke trailing from each finger on the glove. Undead essence was black, and it would be key in creating this.
Slowly, the fingers begin to flex and unflex, moving without any hand inside to do it.
Crafting Card Created! – Gauntlet of Undead Motion
A leather gauntlet imbued with undead essence.
Materials needed:
Leather piece x1
Undead Essence x2
Brass piece x 1/2
The crafting card appeared in his hands as a slip of paper with a thin silver trimming around the edges. This meant that it was a rare card. Evidently, another artificer out there had thought about self-moving gloves before. It wasn’t unique. Even so, Tripp was pleased.
Now came the tricky part; making it.
“Are you going to clue us in?” asked Etta.
Tripp flicked the crafting card over to Rolley. It scissored through the air, hit his chest and fell into his lap.
“Take a look,” said Tripp. “I’m thinking that the would-be zombies in room 1 would have been able to move around despite their flesh being dead. Right? If I can artifice their essence into a glove, maybe Rolley can use his hands again.”
“Sweet! Thank you so much, Tripp. That’s a nice thing to do.”
“Thank me if this works. I’m only a tin-5 artificer.”
To create the gauntlet, Tripp first checked his inventory. He didn’t have any uncrafted leather strips, but he had a few basic leather chest pieces that he’d brought in case he needed to add an artificery effect to them.
Using his armorer skill and repair hammer, he dissembled the piece, gaining two strips of leather.
Next, he tuned in to his mind stat and armorer skill again. He gently hammered the leather strip, all the while imagining the shape of a leather gauntlet in his mind.
The leather curled, stretched, and fastened until gradually it formed the shape of a glove. He fastened all its joints in place using rivets he’d made from one of his bronze pieces. Done - one gauntlet complete.
Item crafted – Leather Gauntlet [Good]
“Cool, is it ready?” asked Rolley.
Tripp shook his head. He was pleased that the gauntlet looked as it should, but he’d hoped for better than [good] quality. Even so, it was an improvement from the crappy things he used to make when he first became an armorer.
Next, he strapped his artificer goggles over his head.
“Just a piece of advice,” said Etta. “You look…”
Here we go, thought Tripp, who used to wear glasses in school until he’d gotten contact lenses.
“…magnificent,” said Etta. “The glasses really suit you.”
Tripp tried, and failed, to hide his smile. Weird that he could feel a sense of pride over orcish looks that weren’t actually his.
With his goggles in place he eyed the circular and octagonal artificery hole on his gauntlet. Now came the tricky part.
If he added undead essence to the circular hole, he’d give it resistance against the undead.
If he used the octagonal hole, the glove would give its wearer extra damage against the undead.
Neither of these suited Tripp’s purposes, so he flipped it over, and then he saw it.
There, on the other side of the glove, was a square hole. This was another aspect of artificery that he’d unlocked in his last level-up; utility.
He poured grains of undead essence into this and then sealed it with a blend of artificery and manus.
Just as in his mind, trails of black smoke drifted from the fingertips of his real artificed glove.
Item Created: Leather Gauntlet of Undead Motion [Good]
A set of leather gauntlets that can be moved using your mind.
Armorer skill leveled to Tin 4!
Using your armorer skill on a crafting card of your creation has increased the EXP gained, leveling your skill faster than before.
- Manus cost reduced by 15%
- Defense item quality improved to an [average] baseline
Tripp felt the warming soak of a skill level up settle inside him, and enjoyed it while looking at his new item. As a gauntlet, it looked special. The smoky mist that rose from its fingertips evoked a sense of dread, and the leather itself looked darker and more…corrupted, he guessed he’d describe it.
“Here,” he said, handing it to Rolley. “Try it on, and I’ll make one for your left hand.”
Rolley, his eyes lit up and smile beaming wide, slipped the glove over his charred right hand.
“Fits just fine,” he said. “Stinks a little.”
“That’ll be the undead essence. “
“I guess I won’t have to wear it when we get out of the tower. How do I move it?”
“This might take some getting used to. Just think about the fingers starting to move, and the-”
The fingers suddenly moved.
Not just the fingers, but the whole glove.
And then Rolley’s arm.
As Tripp watched, incredulous, Rolley began strangling himself.
Barnard leaped to his feet and grabbed the gauntlet and tried to wrench it free, but he wasn’t strong enough. Etta helped, and then Tripp, and together they pulled the gauntlet off him.
Etta tossed it to the far side of the room. “You’re a master craftsman, Tripp,” she said, a hint of a smile on her face.
“I’m sorry,” he said, looking at Rolley. “Must have made a mistake somewhere along the way.”
“You think?” said Rolley, rubbing his throat where his skin was marked red.
“Let me work it out and try again later.”
It was disappointing to fail like that. He felt like he was on the right path with undead essence, given its ability to reanimate dead flesh. He was just missing that one last piece. Something that would control it, that would allow Rolley to master the essence.
He’d have to think on it some more.
Rolley stood up suddenly. He instinctively reached for a dagger, then fumbled with it, dropping it to the ground. He didn’t pick it up. Instead, he started toward one of the alcoves.
“Something is coming.”
“I don’t see anything,” said Tripp.
“You don’t have rogue awareness.” He turned toward another alcove now. “And something’s coming from this one, too.”
Realization came to Tripp, bringing with it a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. “The monks. Looks like our time is up, and we need to move. Rolley, are the other two alcoves okay?”
“They seem clear.”
“So, which to choose?”
“This is where I can help,” said Etta. “Minotaurs get the Pathfinder skill. We rarely ever get lost. You know, due to the whole story about the minotaur and the labyrinth.”
“How does it work?”
“I look at two directions, and one of them feels right. That’s as plainly as I can put it.”
“And which way feels right?”
Etta pointed ahead. They heard footsteps coming from the other alcoves now. Uniform thuds that Tripp had come to recognize all too well.
“This way,” he said, heading to the alcove Etta had marked.
CHAPTER 22
Barnard
As he followed the others into the alcove, Barnard couldn’t stop thinking about the note he’d found in his loot chest. He felt guilty about it, even though he hadn’t asked for it.
Besides, it wasn’t as if he’d lied. Not really. There had been coins in his chest; he had just decided not to mention the note.
It was a surprising one, to say the least. He thought about it now, weighing the words in his head as he followed Rolley down the narrow passageway.
Barnard, a time will come when you can learn to truly use your abilities if you make the right choice. Seal thy lips, dice mage. If a word about this note is spoken, the promise I make is surely broken.
He usually prided himself on being a logical guy. In fact, he was too logical most of the time, and it meant he missed out on doing stuff that could be fun. That was kinda why he’d chosen to play as a dice mage; it was the opposite of what he’d usually do. And since most of his life choices hadn’t brought him what he wanted so far, why not try doing the opposite?
With logic came a feeling of dread, though. Barnard wasn’t stupid enough to think that the choice the note said he would have to make would be a good one.
Likely as not, he’d have to choose between something really horrible that only the demented tower could dream up, or being able to master his dice mage spells and become a ridiculously powerful player.
“Barnard?” called a voice.
He realized that he’d lagged behind the others. He heard footsteps behind him, ones that sent a tremor of fear through him.
“I’m coming,” he said.
He looked ahead, but he couldn’t see the others. So he picked up his pace, and he gave himself a pep talk in his head. He told himself that as useless as he’d been in room one, he’d do better in the next one. He’d become an asset to this party.
He’d almost convinced himself, almost reached the end of the tunnel, too, when he heard a shout.
It was Rolley, crying in pain. And then Tripp and Etta shouted too, and Barnard felt his pep-talk faded away to nothing.
He crept forward, scared, until he saw what had happened.
CHAPTER 23
It was an ambush!
As soon as they reached the end of the passageway it opened out into an area even bigger than the room they’d just left. It looked like the ruins of a fortress, with broken walls and destroyed buildings dotted around a courtyard. The sky above was blue but with dark, angry clouds overhead. Tripp felt a cold breeze sneak into the places where his steel armor didn’t quite meet.
That was a surprise in itself, that there could be outdoor areas in the tower. When he’d stood on the Bone Plains and walked around it, there was no hint of any places like this. No sign that parts of the tower were exposed.
It was an illusion. It had to be.
The arrow that suddenly smashed against his chest plate w
as definitely no illusion.
Rolley, keen to the anger, dove to the floor and crawled to a nearby wall, sitting with his back to it. As arrows whizzed at them from several locations, Etta and Tripp followed. Etta cried out as three arrows drove deep into her arms and neck.
Sitting against the wall, safe from the arrows, Tripp could see the passageway they’d just left. Barnard was still there, on all four by the alcove.
The monks were advancing behind him.
“Barnard! Get your arse over here!”
The mage didn’t move, and the monks got closer.
Tripp knew if he stuck his head up from the shelter of the wall he’d get a volley of arrows in answer. But if the monks got hold of Barnard, they’d be a party member down.
At that moment, a cold practicality washed his thoughts. It drenched his adrenaline-spiked brain in pure, crystallized logic.
Barnard was a nice guy, but he’d done nothing to help them. The opposite, in fact. Right now Tripp should have been trying to work out who was firing arrows at them and how to take them out. Instead, his thoughts were straying toward helping Barnard.
Rolley was on his knees, making sure to duck low so the wall covered him. He crawled toward his friend. “Barny, what the hell?”
But Barnard didn’t move.
“Tripp?” said Etta. “Are you going to help him?”
Tripp had made his decision. It was settled in his head and he was sure it was the right one. If it wasn’t then he’d have to live with it, but that was a problem down the line.
Right now, he turned away from Barnard and focused on the immediate problem of the unseen archers. Unless they found a way through them, the monks would catch them all.
So he swept his gaze over the ruins. At the far end, probably two hundred meters, there was a door. That must have been the entrance to the next tower room.
So where were the archers?
Etta tugged his arm. “You’re just going to let him die?”
