I gave everyone the rundown on what Nuralie and I had faced, then began sharing the item descriptions. I opened with the Wand of Boundless Night since it felt dangerous to even hold on to. I pitched the idea of leaving it in the care of Sam’lia, and no one was opposed to ridding ourselves of it. Xim once again entered a pensive stillness while we discussed the wand, but whatever she was thinking, she could share it in her own time.
“Despite its description,” I said, “none of us were affected by it.”
“I was affected,” said Nuralie with a shiver. “It was unpleasant.”
“No one was harmed by it,” I clarified. “I felt the sense of doom it mentions, but none of us went psychotic or saw phantom creatures.”
“Someone could have disappeared,” said Nuralie. “We wouldn’t know.”
“We have a full party,” said Varrin. “Everyone is present.”
“Arlo could have had another summon.” Pause. Nuralie turned to me. “How many active skill slots do you have open?”
Goosebumps crept up my neck as I answered.
“One.”
“Only Etja has a full suite of active skills,” Varrin countered. “That doesn’t mean Arlo had a second summon that was erased from existence.”
“We’re all better versed in soul magic than most,” said Xim, breaking her silence. “Delver levels augment the soul. Arlo’s Reveal ability has given us all plenty of experience having our souls fondled.”
I grimaced.
“Not how I would have described it, but okay.”
“Three of us that were hit by it are revelators,” Xim continued. “That empowers the soul through connection with a deity. The only other person here was Grotto. He specializes in spiritual magic and shares a soul bond with Arlo. We probably resisted the worst of the wand’s consequences.”
“That reminds me,” I said to Xim, “how did you keep from getting stunned by the Ego Splinter spell? I barely resisted myself, and I had several layers of defense against it.”
She held up a hand, where the Ring of Many Blessings sparkled with its thousand facets.
“I burned all of my stored charges of Blessed,” Xim said. “I resisted it by 4 points.”
“That attack was too close of a call,” I muttered, thinking over how we could have been better prepared. After another minute or two of discussion, I moved on to the other items we’d recovered from the Doomed Aspirants.
Varrin recognized the name Deletar, and the Longsword of Bluewren matched the weapon the man had used. He’d apparently disappeared two decades ago. The big guy also recognized House Spyreling when we went over the brooch. The house was known for producing some of the most talented Delvers in Timagrin and ran an academy of some renown.
I brought up the flavor text for the bardiche last. It was the only real clue as to who the final wave of bugs had been prior to their insectification. Aside from their names, that is, which were mildly eccentric and reminded me of some handles I’d used for MMO characters when I was a moody 15-year-old. Nuralie was the most familiar with The Eschen Wastes, which the item’s flavor text referenced.
“The Eschen Wastes are what they sound like,” said Nuralie. “Wastelands. They are north of Eschendur, spanning westward all the way to the borders of Timagrin and Mittak. The Kingdom of Ayama lies in the middle”–pause–“though that region only flourishes because of Godking Ayamari’s magic.”
“Sounds like a big area,” I said.
“The Wastes are more than 20 times larger than Hiward,” said Varrin. “They cover as much landmass as the Littan Empire.”
“Do people live there?” I asked.
Nuralie tilted her head and thought.
“Some,” she said. “There is a small Eschen settlement on the north side of the Left Hand Mountains. They trade with the people who live in The Eastern Wastes, mostly exiles and hermits.” Pause. “People who would rather be ruled by the unkindness of nature, rather than by monarchs or politicians.”
“I guess this self-proclaimed Lord Hendrick Langhry wouldn’t have been popular.”
“To put it mildly,” said Nuralie. “The population of the Wastes is sparse and there are only a few small villages, but I have been told they are mostly anarchistic. Single individuals and small groups living by the law of tooth and claw. I do not know much more.” Pause. “I never felt the desire to visit.”
“I recognize the name,” said Xim. “He was a Hiwardian Flarehart who was stripped of his title.”
“No offense, but why do you know that?” I asked. “You’re not usually very up to date with the Hiwardian nobility.”
“He was a famous Delver a couple of decades ago,” Xim replied. “He ended up as one of the cautionary tales that aspiring Delvers are taught about in their academies.”
“Even I have heard the song,” said Nuralie.
“Song?” I asked.
“Gods above, I haven’t thought about that in years,” said Xim. “Luck Won’t Get You Lucky.”
Etja’s eyes widened.
“I love that song!” she said.
“Luck Won’t Get You Lucky is the popular title,” said Nuralie. “The real name is The Ballad of Queen Celeritia’s Virtue.” She sighed. “Etja sang it many times while we toured.”
“I see why no one calls it by the formal name,” I said. “The first one’s catchier.”
Xim suddenly broke out singing the tune.
“Luck won’t get you lucky, as lonely Langhry found!
The Queen’s Guard quests for libidinous guests, even those with Shroud!”
Nuralie joined in with an alto harmony. Soon after, Etja added her exceptional mezzo-soprano. Towards the end of the verse, even Varrin chipped in with a deep, rich bass.
“Oh, lusty Langhrey, seized with his trousers down.
A sculpted breast clutched tight to his chest, while he went to town!
Lilliputian loin-ed Langhrey, though you have an unbreakable bone,
you can’t quite make it penetrate when your partner’s all marble and stone.
When your partner’s all marble and stone!”
Grotto and I watched them in stunned silence. Shog’s eyes were wide as saucers.
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“What is this sonic magic?” he asked.
“It’s called singing,” I said. “Did Langhrey… try to bang a statue?”
“A statue of the late queen, though she was alive at the time,” said Varrin. “Inside the Dark Iron Palace no less.”
“He could”–pause–“animate things.”
“No thanks,” I said. “I don’t need any more details.” I rubbed my eyes, trying to erase the lyrics from my memory. “Wait, why is that a cautionary tale for Delvers?”
“He had high Luck and apparently got away with a lot of ‘strange’ activities,” said Xim. “He also thought his invisibility spell would keep him from getting caught.” She smirked. “But groans can’t become invisible.”
“Why did I ask?”
“It serves two main purposes,” said Varrin. “First, you should always keep the limits of the skill you’re using in mind. It is easy to get blindsided when you lose focus. The second is that someone, somewhere, always has a counterspell.”
“It also serves as an intro to Delver punishment,” said Xim. “Langhrey was a level 20 gold. He was widely known, well-liked, and fairly skilled. But a squad of level 15 Queen’s Guards is equipped to… frustrate criminal acts. Even when such dirty deeds are being discharged by high-level Delvers.”
“We can stop now,” I said, wincing at the relentless innuendo. “Luckless Langhrey got caught being naughty and lost his title.”
“The king also stripped him of his lands and property,” said Varrin. “Then forbade him from Delving. He essentially became an overleveled peasant.”
“It appears that he sought out new opportunities in distant lands,” I said, extrapolating the rest of the former lord’s tale. “Maybe his Luck paid off for a while and he managed to establish some sort of domain in the Wastes. Then–” I gestured at a bug corpse. “Roach killed him.”
“Roach?” asked Varrin.
“Blood Scour. Sorry, that was my internal nickname for her.” I rubbed my beard and pondered. “Do we think these Aspirants were from the Wastes, then?”
“Rogue Delvers, maybe,” said Xim.
“Or they did Creation like the Artemix group,” said Varrin, expression growing dark. “All of those people who worked with Orexis found a way to bypass the Creation Delve somehow.”
“Did Lito and Myria ever figure out how that worked?” asked Xim, turning to me.
I shrugged.
“If they did, I wouldn't have been kept in the loop,” I answered. “That gives us a crew from the Eschen Wastes. The group of 3 from earlier didn’t have anything to ID them with, other than their first names. The group of 2 had the brooch, which means they may have been from Timagrin. The first Aspirant, Deletar, was likely a member of House Bluewren.”
“If so, that gives us The Eschen Wastes, Timagrin, and Hiward,” said Varrin. “Does that tell us anything?”
“Whatever happened to these people is agnostic of people’s nationality,” I offered.
Varrin’s hand tightened around his sword hilt.
“If an avatar is the cause, that would be consistent.”
[Delve Cores also have little regard for the geographic origins of those who enter their halls.]
“Grotto has a point,” I said. “We shouldn’t assume–”
[However, a Delve Core would not punish Delvers by transmuting them into such monstrosities. They would simply recycle the body, using its mana as fuel and its organic components as compost.]
“Have you completed your thought?” I asked. Grotto bobbed in the air.
[Yes.]
“We shouldn’t assume an avatar is the cause,” I said. “We can run with the theory, but our goal should be to try and disprove it at every turn.”
“Very well,” said Varrin. “Either way, we should continue moving forward.”
“We do still have the Get Out of Cage Free Card,” said Xim. “We could just go.”
“Assuming it works here,” I said. “Also, I want those special Delve rewards.”
“Is that worth facing down an avatar?” she asked.
“We don’t know for sure that there’s an avatar involved.”
The cleric gave me a skeptical look.
“We’re here inside a secret Delve, known only to a select few for its impossibility,” she said. “It’s us. If we find evidence of the worst possible thing happening, then the worst possible thing is probably happening.”
“Yes, but look at all the great stuff we’ve gotten because of our proclivity to punch above our weight class.”
“We need to know if it’s true,” said Varrin. “If the avatars have gotten their claws deeper into Delves or the System, that is something we cannot ignore.”
“I do not think there would be much we could do about that,” said Nuralie.
[If an avatar has taken control of the Delve, we cannot guarantee that completing the objective will advance the phase.]
“Shit,” I said. “Why not?”
[The avatar may be controlling the objectives in some way, incorporating its own spawn into the challenges. If so, it has some level of access to the core that runs the Delve.]
“Well fuck,” I said. “Okay, let’s at least take a peek and see what we can find out.” I looked around the group. Neither Xim nor Nuralie looked happy about it, but they reluctantly agreed. Etja was silent, lost in thought. Varrin, of course, was adamant that we move forward.
“But first,” I said, “before we go searching for things that can kill us with a flick of its wrist, I have an evolution to pick.”
The mood was dour, but professionalism won out and we reviewed the options together.
1) Frontline Officer: Whenever an ally you can perceive blocks an attack, you may react by adding your Leadership skill level to their block value.
2) Backline Officer: Whenever an ally you can perceive makes a ranged attack, you may react by adding your Leadership skill level to the attack’s damage.
3) Medical Officer: Whenever an ally who can perceive you is healed for any amount, they may increase that amount by your Leadership skill level. This bonus can only be gained once per minute per ally.
The first two choices also came with the option to pick up an active skill that complimented the evolution, but both were from the Spiritual school. My attunement wouldn’t allow it even if I’d wanted either of them.
Frontline Officer would mainly help out Xim since she was the only other party member wielding a shield. Varrin and Shog could block with their swords, but Varrin’s style focused on avoiding taking hits, and Shog had taken after his teacher from what I’d seen. My summon also used his tentacles to keep enemies subdued. Overall, Frontline Officer wasn’t a great fit for our group.
Backline Officer looked like it would only benefit Nuralie at first glance, but a close reading of the text revealed more. It didn’t call for a ranged weapon attack, only a ranged attack. That meant it included ranged spells. That would assist Xim and Etja, in addition to Nuralie.
My main problem with the first two choices was that they required me to ‘react’ to grant the bonus. Skills that required reactions took a small amount of time and attention. I would probably end up in situations where I was too focused on managing the enemy and blocking attacks to use the abilities to their full potential, which was a struggle I already had with Dispel. They would also be unusable if I was Stunned, Distracted, or knocked unconscious. If I had mostly been standing around and barking orders, I’m sure they would have been great. That wasn’t my style, however.
Medical Officer didn’t require any action on my part. My allies decided whether to take the bonus healing, regardless of my thoughts or feelings. The range was perception-based, so my allies could still benefit even while on massive battlefields, so long as they could ‘perceive’ me. It was a shame they had to perceive me, as opposed to the reverse like the first two evos, since I nearly always had perception of my allies through Soul-Sight and my aura. It was still a good feature.
The amount of healing felt minor to someone like me, who had over a thousand health, but for my allies, 20 health was an appreciable percentage–5% or so for Nuralie or Etja. That number would also improve as my Leadership skill advanced.
What ultimately sold me on Medical Officer was that it improved something I was already building into: my passive ability to heal the party. I currently increased everyone’s health regeneration by an amount equal to my Fortitude with Who Needs a Cleric. Allies got a 20% bump to that regen from my last Leadership evo. My super evolution, We Can Do This All Day, gave stamina or health to a nearby ally equal to half of any damage I took. Medical Officer would grant the rest of the party a global healing buff on top, and I was betting it would trigger off of the healing from We Can Do This All Day. Taken alone, none of these were massive bonuses, but together they started to represent a potent suite of entirely passive healing abilities.
Nuralie ran us through a few theoretical scenarios. If we were facing a series of tough fights, the three abilities together could easily wind up healing 20% of the party’s total HP every hour without me lifting a finger or spending any mana. In extreme circumstances, that percentage could be much higher. It was about equal to what Xim could output in the same timeframe if she relied solely on her mana regen.
Of course, Xim was more focused on burnination, Fear, and pummeling than she was on healing. Plus she could burn mana to rapidly heal way, way more than I could. So, I wasn’t going to start wearing robes and carrying a scepter anytime soon. Besides, most of these bonuses didn’t apply to me, only to my allies. I still needed somebody to stuff my guts back in when we didn’t have time for my health regen to rebuild 90% of my body.
The matter being settled, I selected Medical Officer.
Then we looked around at the obvious absence of doors or portals. I scratched my head and sighed.
“Alright,” I said. “How do we leave?