by Adam Elliott
Cayden took the moment to pressure his foe and felt a swell of pride as he forced the creature out of the boundary of its Grasp the World ability. That pride was fleeting. However, as he saw the stumbling creature level it’s sword parallel to the ground, it’s palm stretched in Michael’s direction. “Aya…”
“Michael! Mitigate!” he shouted.
“…Natha!”
A ripple of distorted violet flame erupted from the faux-Cayden’s hand, the runic energy racing towards Michael who just barely turned to face it in time. Unlike Cayden’s Guardian class, Michael’s juggernaut was focused almost entirely on passive damage resistance. Where Cayden blocked, Michael soaked, allowing his armor to take the brunt of the damage dealt to him. With higher HP, the effect was usually around the same, but even a juggernaut couldn’t face tank everything.
Fortunately for them both, Cayden’s warning had arrived in time, the flame washing around Michael as his Force of Will ability allowed him to dissipate the majority of what would have otherwise been crippling, perhaps even fatal damage.
“What the hell was that?!” Michael demanded.
“Later!” Cayden shouted, pressing the attack against his duplicate to prevent a second spell from finishing the job. “Get Shifty!”
“Like I need you to-” Michael laughed again, too distracted in the moment to finish the thought. He flourished his blade as he advanced on the retreating rogue, his longer steps closing the distance despite two more daggers clattering off the edges of his plate. The advance was relentless, but if the copies understood the danger, they did nothing to react to it appropriately.
The proper response was to get the hell away from him.
At level ten, the Juggernaut class gained a new resource, called Momentum, a pool that built with every point of damage they took. Once a Juggernaut had taken enough damage to fill the pool, they gained temporary access to two different abilities: Unstoppable and Immovable. Immovable negated all damage taken by the next hit, making it an outstanding ability for tanking, if a tad situational. The opposite, Unstoppable, was an attack ability that would quadruple damage dealt by the next successful hit. It sounded good on paper, but the inability to pair it with an active skill made it decidedly underwhelming for such a situational ability.
Unless you had a way to guarantee a critical hit, such as, say, a duellist’s Blade Flourish skill.
The tip of Michael’s rapier jabbed into the fake Shifty’s torso just below the left side of the ribs. Hardly a crippling blow under normal circumstances, the combination of the two abilities caused the copy’s body to detonate like a bomb, a cloud of ash erupting from the gaping wound where it’s torso used to be as the two halves of its body skittered to a stop a half-dozen feet away.
It was an incredible combination, one Cayden was vaguely sad he hadn’t thought of himself, and one he was hard pressed to beat. He’d been wracking his brain ever since Michael had divulged the gimmick, on how best to confront it, hypothetically speaking. Thus far his best solutions were to burn Michael down before he could activate the ability, successfully block or dodge it, or run for the thirty seconds it took for his charge to dissipate.
He almost felt sorry for the poor, dumb copies.
“Silver next!” He shouted, seeking to press what advantage they had. It wouldn’t be long before Celia returned from her exile through time, but he’d feel a lot safer if they could take out at least one more of the enemy damage dealers before that happened. “I’ve got Michael.”
That was the other major problem with the strategy. Killing an equal level mob from half health in a single strike generated a lot of aggro, which wasn’t exactly ideal right after taking enough damage to activate the skill in the first place. Then again, that was what tanks were for
Cayden rushed forward, utilizing his Cover ability to put himself between Michael and the remaining enemies moments before the first wave of their assault struck. Magic of all forms assaulted him, a hail of metal darts and that same runic fire from his own copy, paired neatly with all manner of elemental magics from Silver’s fingertips. The latter came slower and slower as the seconds ticked by, however, as Shifty’s daggers and the real Silver’s magics began to find purchase in the slender doll. Eventually, their combined assault began to overwhelm the duplicate Celia’s healing prowess, and the enemy copy of their cocky magi fell to a flurry of attacks.
It was their fight. Cayden smiled in relief. Four to three, no, five to three, he corrected himself as Celia’s status bar reappeared on the corner of his display, the copies didn’t stand a chance. Still, no reason to be cocky, however, particularly with the walking nuke that was Michael still on the enemy side of the field.
“Healer next!” Cayden ordered, moving forward to engage the looming form of the enemy juggernaut, crying out a taunt to keep his attention before adding. “Nice of you to join us, Celia.”
“So that is what that feels like.” She laughed nervously, briefly studying her own hands as if uncertain if what she was seeing was real.
“Celia.” Silver demanded, snapping her fingers. “A little focus?”
“Easy for you to say.” Celia pouted before starting into a healing incantation.
The cleanup that followed was easy compared to the nail-biting terror that had led up to it. Outnumbered, and down the majority of their damage dealers, the enemy force simply couldn’t outpace them. Their Celia was brought down by a combined barrage of attacks, and mercifully their Cayden at last felt shortly after that, though not before one more taunt uncomfortably manipulated Cayden’s psyche. With Michael the last of their group, they defaulted to a mix of Cayden’s two ideal strategies, the five of them pouring damage onto him until his ability activated, followed by kiting him to death while Cayden played keep away with his taunts.
In all the fight must have been measured in minutes, but to Cayden at least it felt like hours, perhaps days. His hands were lead weights at the end of his arms, barely mobile. His fingers ached from gripping the hilt of his sword, and he wondered, briefly, if he’d ever get the feeling of vibration out of his left arm. He’d had more dangerous fights, but never something so long, nor with such uncertainty from the very outset.
The faces of his allies all told the same tale, all but Silver. The physical exhaustion was there, but not the mental. Her eyes were clear and thoughtful, introspective as if she were plotting the next ten moves in a chess match, rather than standing in the aftermath of a life or death struggle. It made sense, he supposed, that a woman with her experience would not have the same reaction, yet it was unnerving all the same. Would he have eyes like that one day? And if he did, would that be a good thing? Or a bad thing?
“We should grab their loot,” Shifty said at last.
“Ever the mercenary.” Celia giggled. When he stiffened at that comment, her hands immediately came up, covering her face as the circumstances of the evening came back to her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”
“It’s fine. I think we’re all pretty damn exhausted.” Shifty replied with his most soothing tone. “But the sooner we get on with this the sooner we can sleep and figure out our next step. So grab your doppelganger.”
The group nodded their agreement, and each went in search of their fallen doppelganger, collecting the small glowing crystal from amidst the dissipating ash. There was the usual of course, currency, crafting components and vendor trash, but two items immediately stood out:
Mage Blade +3
A Mage Blade of the Elzmere style. It imparts powerful magical benefits to the initiated.
One-Hand Damage: 65-85
One-Hand Damage (Mage): 85-125
Required Level: 7
Required Strength: 7
Required Dexterity: 13
Durability: 25
Energy + 7
Empower (1) Once/Day
Special: This weapon has increased damage for anyone with at least five levels in a spellcasting class.
Deed to Bastion
Ownership and acceptance of this item entitles and entrusts command over the Walled City of Bastion and all lands and territories within ten miles in all directions.
The first was a straight upgrade over his existing sword. He had already tempered his blade twice since obtaining it, increasing the original Mage Blade he’d gotten from Rap Rat to a +2 variety, so it made sense thematically that they’d give him a +3 as a reward. His allies reported similar findings, though each of them had gotten a second piece of upgraded gear, rather than a deed of their own
Cayden snapped his fingers to bring up his AR menu, and dug down into his inventory, locating the Deed in an open space of his pack, and summoned it to hand.
It was a positively ancient looking scroll, the paper yellowed and so brittle that the very idea of trying to open it filled him with dread. Despite that fear, however, the document seemed to actively resist damage as he opened it, gaining unnatural flexibility the moment the vellum would have otherwise been pushed to its limits.
A series of notifications barraged Cayden’s display as the first glowing words of the document came into sight. Chime after chime, dinged in his ear as his log was flooded with the phrase: New Rune Learned.
The document was written in the Great Emperor’s Runes, he saw, but each shone with eldritch power the very nature of the document imparting the meaning of the words he was seeing, which in turn added them to his lexicon. Was this another way he could have stumbled onto his unique class? Or just an interesting interaction of the two? Either way, any pouting over sup-par loot drops was long gone as the document added well over a hundred new words to his vocabulary, bringing him to over eleven-hundred words known. Halfway to his next major boost.
Ironically, even translated the document was almost illegible. His enthusiasm for the addition to his lexicon flagged somewhat as he realized that words like heretofore and forthwith were among those he’d just discovered. The legalese was strong with this one.
The one thing that was easy to understand were the two options that revealed themselves at the bottom of the unrolled page. I accept, and I decline. It wasn’t enough to merely possess the document; he had to agree to its terms. It’s very complicated, magically binding terms. Wonderful.
“Any of you know how to speak lawyer?” Cayden asked, after giving the document another fruitless pass with his eyes.
“I took law 10 in high school?” Celia chirped.
Silver and Shifty each shook their heads but Michael was advancing, his arm outstretched for the scroll. He took it when offered, and scanned it for barely an instant before handing it back. “Pre-Law, before I ended up here, but I’m not going to be much use to you.”
“Why not?”
“Paper looks blank to me,” Michael explained.
“Ah. Damn.” Cayden grumbled. Because of course, Babel couldn’t ever just make something easy.
Then again, it wasn’t like he had much of a choice anyway. What was he going to do, not accept ownership of the castle and surrounding lands? Like that’d help.
He touched the I Accept option.
The braziers and torches throughout the room flared to life at that touch, and behind them, he could hear the sound of sound of sparks and fire as light flooded the entrance hall from whence they’d come. The room around them shifted subtly as well, the moss between stones retreating, the door that they’d smashed in their entrance knitting itself back together. The keep was coming alive under their very feet, even the cool night air of the place replaced by a toasty, fireside sensation.
“Home sweet home.” Cayden murmured.
Chapter Seven
âYou’re up early.â Silver remarked with a sly grin as Cayden arrived.
âYou’re one to talk.â He shot back. The young woman was as pretty and made up as ever, but there was no covering the heavy bags under her eyes. âCouldn’t sleep either, huh?â
She shook her head. âNot in the slightest.â
âBecause you’re worried about all of us dying? Or because you want to see how this all works?â
âYes?â
Cayden snorted with laughter. âHey, at least you’re honest.â
Crisp footsteps were fast approaching from behind Cayden; the young man was forced to step aside to admit Valserys, Roberta and, to his surprise, Michael. The latter appeared to be just barely awake, his baby blue eyes squinting, even in the dim light of the study.
“Field Marshall,” Valserys said sharply before he snapped to attention. Long seconds passed before Cayden finally realized what the pink-haired soldier was waiting for and gestured for him to relax.
âGood morning Valserys, Roberta. I appreciate you being so prompt.” He wasn’t sure on that last point, having left his AR glasses back in his room in his fumbling haste to get here on time. But their arrival with Michael certainly suggested it. “Is everything ready?”
âAs requested.â This time it was Roberta, the diminutive grey-haired woman smiling in satisfaction of her own pronouncement as she gestured to a nearby table. âBetter, in fact, with the recovery of this from the tower store room.â
Cayden turned his attention to the oaken legged table that dominated the center of the room, his brows knitting together in confusion as he studied it. The top of its surface was dominated by a scale model of what appeared to be the majority of the second floor. Mountains capped with white snow rose from its surface, while small puddles filled in for lakes and other large bodies of water. Islo, Sunè, and Bastion were all represented, along with a small representation that he could only assume stood in for the location of the Tomb of the Liar King.
“A gorgeous model,” Cayden admitted at last. “Though I’m not sure it is better. The more tactile view of the landscape is nice, but the screen I’d requested would be more useful for organizing our forces.â
Roberta shook her head. If she was annoyed, she made no sign of it. Instead, she drew closer, reaching out a slim-fingered hand to take hold of his and press it against the side of the table. “I assure you, Field Marshall, it is far superior. But first, I surrender ownership to Cayden.”
With that touch, the model rippled and began to collapse. Mountains and cities faded back into a dull grey surface in a matter of seconds, then coalesced back into a new image just as quickly.
This time the model was not of the floor, but of Bastion itself. As before, the entire top of the table was taken up by the replica, though this time the scale was different. Cayden could now see individual soldiers walking the battlements, with others patrolling the streets or manning the front gate.
The city itself was a wonder of detail as if the world’s best miniature model had spent a lifetime hunched over a magnifying glass to apply every minute detail imaginable. Due to its scale it was still imperfect, but it was without a doubt as close as one could get given the limitations.
“Amazing,” Michael said softly from the sidelines.
âTo put it mildly.â Silver said in quiet admiration.
Cayden’s head turned in her direction, surprised. âThis isn’t something your guild has?â
Silver paused for a moment, considering whether or not to reply before shaking her head. âNo. The guildhall has something similar, but nothing quite this detailed.â
âThey wouldn’t.â Roberta said with perhaps a little too much glee. âThis is known as a War Frame. One of only ninety-nine in existence, most of which are reputed to be on the upper fifty floors.â
âI’ll sell it to you guys if we get out of th-â
“No, you will not!” Roberta said with a stomp of her foot. “The table is bound to Bastion and will no-”
“It was a joke, Roberta,” Cayden said dryly.
âI-oh. My mistake Field Marshall.â
âJust Cayden, please. It feels weird having you call me that.â Cayden smiled, but the sour expression on the older woman’s face didn’t budge. âSo,
this War Frame, tell me more about it.â
That seemed to put some life back into her. âThe War Frames are relics of the Great Emperor, powerful artifacts placed in places of future need.”
âEvent items then.â Silver said. âI don’t suppose you know where we can find the others, then?â Roberta shook her head, and Cayden shot the Magi a look that returned with equal ferocity. âWhat? I wouldn’t be a good gamer if I didn’t ask?â
“Continue Roberta,” Cayden said, rolling his eyes. Silver wasn’t wrong, but that didn’t stop it from annoying him.
“The frames themselves are items of immense significance.” Roberta gestured to one of the soldiers pacing the outer walls. Eventually, Cayden took her meaning and reached out to touch the soldier. It felt both smoother and cooler than he’d expected, like touching a shaded pebble on a hot summer day.
As he touched it, a small spray of particles erupted from the edges of the table, floating upwards into the air before coalescing into a dark grey pane, filled with text:
Aleph
Level 10 (Elan Infantry)
HP: 100/100
MP: 0/0
TP: 100/100
Move: 130
Attack: 10
Defence: 10
Special: None
Resistances: None
Weaknesses: None
âWhat am I looking at?â Cayden asked as the window floated above him. Before either of his advisors could speak, he clarified. âI know these must be his stats, but this isn’t a normal interface. If it is, these can’t be correct.â
“The HP is too low,” Michael added, stating the obvious.
