One might wonder why our party valued the Training Expo so much. The short answer is that it was going to save us a hell of a lot of time. The long answer is:
Arlo’s Treatise on Why Varrin Goes Bananas for Intrinsic Skill Levels
Delvers have access to three types of skills: actives, passives, and intrinsics. I like to think of the relationship between these three as that of a murderous jazz trio.
Actives are the essential skills that let you do things like cast spells or use techniques. A Delver is limited to 10 total, and there are few (painful) ways known to swap them around. These represent the flashy lead instrument in a Delver’s arsenal. The sexy tenor saxophone played by a mysterious man wearing sunglasses in a dark and smoky club. They need the shades ‘cause they’re in the spotlight. Summoning Shog, Oblivion Orb, and Dispel are three fine examples.
Passive skills are powerful buffs that always exist in the background. There are only 4, and if there is a way to change them, no one talks about it openly. A good passive will help to determine the entire approach a Delver takes to their build. They’re the bedrock, the bass guitar played by a nondescript person in the shadows. Easily forgotten, but sorely missed when they’re absent. My aura is a passive.
Intrinsic skills are the percussion, the drums, a technical player with impeccable timing who lays down the tempo for everyone else. While the crowd’s attention is focused on the lead, an amazing lead cannot overcome a bad percussionist. A solid percussionist, however, can elevate an entire group of mediocre musicians. Blunt, Shields, and Dimensional Magic are three of my main intrinsics. They are the easiest of the three categories to swap out, but doing so costs all of the skill’s progression and starts you back at level 1 with the new skill.
Most intrinsic skills have passive effects that scale as the skill levels, such as the escalating physical defense granted by Heavy Armor. Intrinsic skills also determine the power of some aspect of most active skills. Dimensional Magic has just as much of an impact on the damage of my Oblivion Orb as my Intelligence. But the most satisfying part of intrinsics is the evolutions.
There are five break points for evolutions, which are the same as the break points for stats: levels 10, 20, 40, 70, and 100. Evolutions might significantly boost a Delver’s build efficacy, offer the chance to take powerful actives, or even grant new abilities that don’t count against the active skill cap. While attribute evolutions affect general aspects of a Delver’s potency, intrinsic evolutions are laser-focused and more powerful for the specific competency they are evolving. Strength is great for swinging a hammer, but Blunt is usually better.
Because of their significant impact on potency, most Delvers have strict goals for their intrinsic growth before they are willing to tackle the next level of Delves. Training intrinsic skills takes time, however, and is thus the main bottleneck for most Delvers trying to advance through Delver levels. This goal is generally defined by a Delver’s total number of intrinsic skill levels.
For Coppers… it’s honestly not that big of a deal because Copper is trash and boring to talk about. Silvers generally want to gain 3 levels in total intrinsics between each Delve, which translates to 12 skill levels per Delver level. This will place Silvers at 90 total intrinsic skill levels by the time they’re done with 30 Silver Delves, which is typically when they drop down a difficulty to Copper.
Golds aim for 7 levels in total intrinsics between each Delve, which is 14 skill levels per Delver level. That gives them 210 total skill levels by the time they’re done with 30 Gold Delves before they drop down to Silver. When I fought Yaretzi, he was level 17, full Gold, which is more gold Delves than the typical progression. Assuming that he followed a standard skill formula, he would have had 238 total intrinsic skill levels at minimum.
Platinums are rare enough not to have a common standard, but Varrin’s push is for us to gain 20 levels in total intrinsics per Delver level. This is, of course, something at which we have failed gloriously, given our manic pace through the lower levels. Our training stats allowed us to make up for the lack of robust intrinsics, but it’s a deficit that has caught up with us some.
So, to be a well-rounded and healthy level 10 Platinum–according to Varrin–I needed to have 200 total intrinsic skill levels. One way to accomplish that would be to have all 10 intrinsic slots filled, with an average skill level of 20. This formula starts to break down once total intrinsics gets close to 400 since getting skills above 40 takes a lot more effort focused on specific accomplishments. But, If we were to take it all the way through Platinum, we’d have 600 skill levels after 30 Delves.
I had 8 intrinsic skills and 135 total intrinsic levels. That put me in a good place for level 6, though I’d had a deficit before my training with Khigra, the fight with Yaretzi and the Littan military, and my encounter with whatever the shit was in that portal. Probably the Dread Star–the jerk responsible for my dictated Luck evolution–if I had to take a guess.
An average Delver could generally get 1 intrinsic skill level per month. The lower levels heavily weight that figure since getting intrinsic skills to level 10 is pretty quick, and then there’s a significant slow-down between each evolution. Regardless, at an ‘average’ pace it’d take me 5-and-a-half years to bridge the gap between 135 and 200. Ain’t nobody got time for that.
Most Delvers were nobles with important noble duties like collecting taxes, attending balls, and spending their money. They also do some governing, but that’s more of a side gig. This means that most Delvers were not working on their skills full-time. Intrinsic skill growth was also gated by the limited availability of scarce resources, monopolization of competent trainers by the wealthiest families, and the general hoarding of knowledge by, well, everyone. Even an expert hired to help a Delver skill up won’t divulge their most sensitive secrets, and no amount of money can buy you a crafting material that no one has.
Inside the Training Expo, our party suffered from none of these limitations.
The Smithing zone consisted of a small library, a smithy, and a mana-weaving studio. The library contained texts that would guide a Delver from their first level in Smithing, with comprehensive manuals and treatises up to level 40. There were some books that spoke to advanced techniques above that level range, but leveling after 40 was heavily impacted by the individual. There wasn’t much ‘standard’ advice, just examples of what had been accomplished by others in the past.
The smithy was a comprehensive forge and workshop. Notably, it contained a mana-powered furnace–an emerald chip provided practically unlimited fuel–and more ingots of various metals than I could hope to use in the time I had. These included mundane iron and steel, Madrin, dark iron, various precious metals, and something I’d never seen before. The manuals referred to the metal as verdantum, and it had inherent self-repairing and poison-resistant properties. There was even some frozen steel and a small, inverted forge to work it, which was covered in a perpetual layer of frost and emitted a glistening vapor.
The mana-weaving studio was a blessed addition to the space that I was excited to find. Mana-weaving was an important component of most crafts, although it was not mandatory. Most crafters chose to incorporate at least some weaving, but others often specialized in manipulating the base materials, which were then handed off to those who focused on weaves. Mana-weaving was the part of Smithing that I was most interested in, and I’d even gotten a head start on it by memorizing a book gifted to me by Umi-Doo.
While I was looking through this treasure trove of resources like it was my birthday and I was turning an age young enough that people still cared, Grotto discovered what may have been the most important addition. There was a metallic orb covered in runes set into an alcove of the workshop that looked much like a Delve Core. When Grotto poked it with a bit of mana, the runes lit up and it floated into the air to greet us. While it wasn’t a fully-fledged murder ball like my familiar, it had a complete internal library of interactive experts to guide my progress. These could be projected like straight-up sci-fi holograms to demonstrate the more physical aspects of the craft and give me appropriately disappointed glares when I sucked at something. I decided to name the core Smith.
I had unlimited materials, a wealth of available knowledge, a menagerie of experts to teach me, and no external demands on my time. Aside from the looming death clock.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
I also had the +100% progression bonus to crafting from my human racial boon.
My goal: armor that made people stop questioning my sanity. At least, for the purposes of the protection that it gave. I was still going to make it look fantabulous.
My first step was to obtain the Smithing skill, which was as easy as asking Smith to give me the System prompt. I was then guided through the process of smelting and forging 100 small, Madrin squares. I engraved a rune into each square until I had a plate for every basic mana-weaving rune used in Smithing.
Each rune represented a basic concept which was granted greater specificity by adding additional complexity. There was a rune for heat that could be embellished to become fire, which could then be refined into fire resistance, and then into fire absorption, etcetera.
The neat thing about runes was that they could be aligned into a sequence that created conditional effects such as automatic triggers, if/then statements, activation code words, or identity requirements. These were all more advanced than what I needed or would become capable of in the limited time I had. Nonetheless, this was an extremely important factoid because it made runes a language. I had a very nice birth sign bonus for languages.
Spectacular Vernacular: You have an eidetic memory for languages and an intuitive grasp of grammar. You learn new languages and dialects at incredible speed.
I’d already memorized the runes in Umi-Doo’s book, and the process of refining the runes into more specialized forms was almost instinctual once I got going. By the time I’d finished my 100 plates and powered them with a coating of powdered ruby chips–also provided by the Delve–I’d already snagged my first 5 levels in Smithing.
After that, I moved on to working the different types of metal into basic forms, eventually working my way up to functional plates for use in different types of armor. Gauntlets were a pain since they had so much articulation. To my surprise, however, the breastplate was the most difficult because of its semi-organic form, size, variable thickness, and the necessity of proper weight distribution. By the time I’d figured all of that out, 12 days had passed and I was up to 11 in Smithing.
The System had also given me a mini-objective amid my armor-making to craft a variety of chains which awarded me a bonus level in Smithing. I completed it–because free level–but it confused me at first. I hadn’t heard of similar quests at lower levels, but it made more sense once I saw my evolution choices.
1) Enhance Metal: You specialize in the refinement of high-quality metals. For each evolution in Smithing, metallic items you craft are 10% lighter, and weaves applied to them are 5% more effective.
2) Armorsmith: You specialize in the production of the toughest and most stalwart of armors. Effects you weave into metallic items governed by the Heavy Armor skill are twice as powerful.
3) Chainsmith: We know you like whips, but what about chains? You have mastered the crafting of metal chains and can make them with inherently magical abilities for magical nights in with your dom. Effects you weave into chains–and the satisfaction you gain from their use–are twice as powerful.
Additionally, whenever you craft a chain of any length, you can choose to imbue it with one of the following properties:
* Extension. With 1 second of concentration, the chain can magically lengthen ;) itself up to twice its normal length, or shorten :( itself to half its length. The maximum length is doubled :D and the minimum length is halved :((( for each evolution you have in Smithing other than this one.
* Resilience. The maximum weight the chain can support is doubled for each evolution you have in Smithing.
* Animation. You can issue commands to the chain, which it will perform. The chain gains a movement speed equal to your Smithing skill in feet per second and can fly, though at least one link of the chain must be touching the ground for it to move. If it takes an action that requires an attribute or skill (such as unarmed ‘grappling’) it uses the attributes and skill levels of its commander. It cannot make attacks or contests. With 3 seconds of concentration, you can relinquish command of the chain to another individual; if you do–which we bet you will–you may no longer issue commands to the chain unless they relinquish command back to you.
I was back to being abused by the System. It had even baited me into the trap by giving me a free skill level! Part of me felt like the System was trying a bit too hard to find ways to kink-shame me, but if it got me free shit, I didn’t really care. The System could drag me through the mud as much as it wanted so long as it kept handing out rewards whenever it did.
I ignored the fact that accepting punishment in exchange for self-gratification was playing right into its hands.
Enhance metal was a solid catch-all, but I preferred to specialize. Chainsmith was annoyingly cool, but I didn’t want to give the System the satisfaction. I was tempted by the idea of creating burning chains that flew around on their own and wrapped people up–a combo that’d make Guardian Lito proud–but it was not meant to be. In the end, the choice was easy. I wanted better armor, I wanted to focus on weaving, I picked Armorsmith. Sorry to disappoint.
The rest of my time was spent crafting myself a suit of armor. It was an outrageous pace for learning how to smith and then being able to complete an entire set of armor, but the Smithing skill’s magic shenanigans gave a big boost to the speed of everything involved. This was further augmented by the super evolution to Intelligence Nuralie got from The Cage:
Rote Memory: You understand not only the academics but the kinesthetics behind your crafts. Your crafting speed is increased by 2% per INT when using manual tools.
Super - Collective Memory: Up to 4 designated allies in your party gain 50% of the bonus you receive from Rote Memory while within 1 mile of you.
An ability we’d taken little advantage of, but a huge boon to getting everything finished with the time available. Nuralie had a 28 Intelligence, which granted a 28% increase to my crafting speed.
For the metal, I chose the peculiar verdantum. Dark iron was too heavy and interfered with mana flow. That made it ideal for pure physical fighters who wanted easy spell protection, but that was a net negative for me, even if I could wear it. Madrin had served me well as a lighter metal that gave a minor buff to weaves, but I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to work with something that I wasn’t even sure existed on the outside. If verdantum was in the Delve, I assumed there were deposits in Arzia, but it might have been found only in remote regions. Maybe it was buried under some of that moon that got dropped on the planet.
Using a rare metal would make augments or upkeep more difficult, but the metal was naturally self-repairing and this would be an intermediary suit of armor anyway. I’d outgrow it before long, especially if I kept training up my Smithing and raised my Strength so that I could wear something heavier. There were yet more uncommon materials used at higher levels.
Verdantum was in the same weight class as Madrin but lacked the weave buff in favor of its regenerative properties and poison resistance. With the amount of abuse my armor saw, the self-repair alone was worth more to me than the weave bonus. I was also already resistant to poison from my Exposure Therapy achievement, so stacking more on top would make me pretty stout against poison hazards and attacks.
As far as the weaves, the strength of what I could apply was limited by my Smithing skill. The rules are mildly complicated, but the short version is that stat requirements from weaves couldn’t be higher than my Smithing level, and I could only have 1 copy of each weave.
I was pretty happy with what I ended up with.
Verdantum Bascinet of the Soul
Requirements: 10 STR, 10 CHA
Armor Rating: Medium-high
Effects: Spiritual DR +20, +2% Poison Resistance, Self-repair
Verdantum Cuirass of the Redoubt
Requirements: 10 STR, 10 STR
Armor Rating: Medium-high
Effects: Physical DR +20, +4% Poison Resistance, Self-repair
Verdantum Gauntlets of the Catapult
Requirements: 10 STR, 10 AGI
Armor Rating: Medium-high
Effects: +20 thrown weapon damage, +1% Poison Resistance, Self-repair
Verdantum Leg Harness of the Traveler
Requirements: 10 STR, 10 WIS
Armor Rating: Medium-high
Effects: -20% to teleportation mana cost and cooldown, +2% Poison Resistance, Self-repair
Verdantum Sabatons of the Quickfoot
Requirements: 10 STR, 10 AGI
Armor Rating: Medium-high
Effects: +20% movement speed, +1% Poison Resistance, Self-repair
After sequestering myself in the smithy for three weeks, I finished the set with a day to spare. The armor was naturally a forest-green hue, and I decided to leave it as-is. I used my extra time to attach a series of small loops to secure my feather boa and was happy with how the violet and fuchsia mingled with the green. It was like I’d become a beautiful flower, emerging at the end of a miserable, steely winter.
I’d also opted for a closed-face helm which hid some of my glory, but protecting the money-maker took precedence. I made a mental note to acquire a colorful feather plume to attach to the top. Something to match my boa would really bring the whole set together. My vest, unfortunately, had to be worn beneath the armor. The cuirass was too bulky for it to fit on top.
Finally, after a good night’s sleep and a hearty breakfast where the party went over our gains, we prepared ourselves to enter the portal.
Powerleveling is what we had for lunch.