The process of verifying a Vault-cracker’s permit was usually a simple, straightforward affair that took only seconds. All that was required was to ensure the document had a name, a date, and a stamp, all of which were present and valid at a glance. And yet Lieutenant Highstone was taking his sweet time doing so with Fizzy’s. His reason for stalling was because he was actually eyeing the curious construct in front of him, his wandering gaze hidden behind the visor of his helmet. Or so he thought, but an Artificer’s eyesight wouldn’t fail to notice those glossy ocular orbs daring around in there. Not that Fizzy objected to being ogled. If anything, she was likely to strip naked if she was asked politely. She still had half a mind to do so anyway, but resisted the urge on account of trying to appear professional and civilized.
After a few minutes of this the dwarf decided he’d had enough staring and decided to move things along.
“Sorry for the delay. Been a while since we seen any of yer lot ‘round ‘ere.”
“What do you mean ‘your lot,’ exactly?” she raised an eyebrow.
“Vault-crackers. Gullible fools, all of ye.”
“Yes, well. I’m not like the others.”
“This is the part where I tell ye everyone says that, but looking at ye, I cannae deny that ye’re one strange lass.”
“Buddy, you don’t know the half of it.”
“Uh-huh. Anyway, let’s get you two inside, aye?”
The armored dwarf guided the golem and her shield-serf into the military outpost. It didn’t have room for a lot of soldiers in it, maybe forty at most. About a dozen of them were huddled around in a circle in front of the barracks. There was a lot of yelling and cheering as two shirtless dwarves were actively engaged in a fistfight with the others huddled around them in a circle. This clearly wasn’t some kind of combat drill or a spar. The sheer ferocity with which the pair went at each other suggested this brawl was personal. Fizzy didn’t care too much, but Tony was far more interested. He was intending to keep his mastery of civilized speech a secret, so he just knocked on his handler’s head to get her attention and pointed at the brawl.
“What?” she looked over her shoulder. “Oh. Alright. Hey, Lieutenant?”
“Hm? What is it, lass?”
“What’s going on over there?”
“Oh, that? Probably a game of dice that got a wee bit out of control. Nothing to worry about.”
“And that’s a regular ocurrence?”
“Aye. This bloody rock’s so damn dull that there ain’t much to do but roll bones and trade fists.”
This post was a dead-end assignment reserved for punishing insubordination, incompetence, or those unlucky enough to have pissed off the wrong people. Lieutenant Highstone had the misfortune of belonging to the third group. Unless something drastic happened he’d be stuck here for the rest of his military career, unlike the grunts that rotated in and out every few months. The officer had already accepted his fate and was simply counting down the days to retirement at this point. He had a lot of those left, and he didn’t feel like spending them yelling at those idiots, so he just let them do whatever they wanted. Within reason, of course.
“I see. Well, I think my boy Tony here fancies a round of fisticuffs. Gotta keep his temper in check, you know?”
“That right?”
The officer eyed the de-cloaked hobgoblin, his sight settling on his obedience collar.
“Aye, I don’t think they’ll mind, so long as they all walk away from this.”
“You heard the man, Tony. Go brawl it out as much as you like, just avoid any lethal or crippling blows.”
The hob smiled and smacked his metal fist into his fleshy palm before he went over to join the festivities. He did this by throwing off his cloak, barging into the circle, grabbing one of the fighters, and headbutting him. The stout soldier grasped his meaning and eagerly welcomed him with an elbow to the gut while the other went for a leaping headbutt. This let Fizzy free to focus on inquiring about the technical aspects of her task.
“So how does this Vault-cracker thing work, exactly?”
“Depends on how ye wanna go about it, lass.”
“Okay, before we go any further, I’d like to make one thing clear,” she spoke in a cold monotone. “If you keep calling me ‘lass,’ I’m going to pull your still-beating heart out through your ass.”
“Bahahaha! Yer a feisty one ain’tcha?!”
He laughed it off as a joke, but made a mental note to listen to her just in case she was serious. That mouth of his was part of the reason why he was stuck in this shithole to begin with, and he had no desire to find out if the dwarven body did indeed work that way.
“So, then. How’re ye gonna try an’ make our lives interesting today, la- miss?”
“To start with, I was hoping I’d get a close look at that Vault key I hear you guys have. You… do have it, right?”
“Aye, we got that hunk of junk, alright. Technically a national treasure, though. You can take a gander at it, but no touching.”
“That… won’t do. I really need to touch it.”
“What for, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“I have a hunch it’s not the Vault lock that’s broken, but the key. If that’s the case, I can fix it.”
The dwarf had heard that one before. He’d also seen a few of the Kingdom’s top eggheads have a crack at doing just that. Obviously none of them succeeded, else he wouldn’t be here. Still, he’d entertained this weird golem so far, might as well humor her a bit more.
“And what makes ye certain ye can do that?”
“Maybe it’s best if I show you…”
Fizzy had a quick look around, her eyesight settling on what seemed to be an old signpost in the middle of the base.
“That’ll do,” she pointed at it.
“Oh, this ought to be good.”
Highstone was greatly amused to say the least. He had no idea where this was going, but it was sure to make a fun anecdote to share over a pint. He followed the mithril golem as she sauntered over to the iron pole and watched with some anticipation as she grasped it with both hands. There was a dick joke in there somewhere, he just realized. The crude thought was then immediately dropped and replaced by mild surprise and growing annoyance as the construct bent the hollow metal tube until the signs at the top were touching the ground. The Lieutenant’s mood then turned to wide-eyed astonishment as Fizzy’s Holy Light made the post spring upright like a hormonal teenager seeing a naked woman for the first time.
“What in the hell…?”
He went over to get a closer look, searching for any signs of trickery or illusion. What he found was a perfectly pristine signpost that showed no signs of ever being bent, dinged, or scratched. Even the old spots of rust were gone as if they were never there.
“You can heal metal?!” he couldn’t help but shout.
“I can heal metal,” she smugly confirmed.
This was unheard of. Then again, so was a mithril golem that apparently also knew holy magic. The Lieutenant figured that the two were likely connected, but the result was more important to him than the cause.
“Can you do that with the lock? Or the key?!”
“That’s what I’m here to find out.”
“Goroth’s craggy crack… I need to think about this…”
Highstone’s mind raced and stumbled at this incredible opportunity. What should he do? Proper procedure was to call his Captain to get approval for handling the key. However, he knew that spiteful bastard would stonewall him just to spite him. One would think he’d get over the fact that Highstone slept with his wife after four years, but that simply wasn’t the case. Point was, this was a literal once-in-a-lifetime chance for the Lieutenant to get himself out of this boring backwater, and he’d be damned if he let it slip. Of course, if this gamble didn’t pay off, what was left of his career was over. Dishonorable discharge would be the best he could hope for, but he refused to think about that right now.
“Alright. Coalshaft!” he roared. “Coalshaft where the hell are you?!”
“Coming L-T!”
Another dwarf in similar armor - albeit less decorated - came running out of the nearby barracks and saluted stiffly.
“I’m here, sir.”
“Get the boys in order. I want them suited up and ready for action in five minutes, at the Vault. All hands, no exceptions!”
“Another drill, L-T?”
“No drill, boy. This is the real deal. Today just might be the day we get through that damned door.”
“A-aye, sir! Right away, sir!”
“Rustblood, you’re with me. Let’s see if you can’t figure that bloody key out.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere!”
Highstone led the golem into the main keep, and then to the basement. The vaunted key was on full display behind several sets of bars and protective magical barriers. It didn’t look all that remarkable, aside from being as long as Fizzy was tall and rather thick besides. Even at a distance the golem could see its brass surface was covered in scratches, dents, and blemishes from decades of being mishandled. Nothing that would prevent it from fitting into its matching hole, but its age certainly showed. Speaking of keys, the Lieutenant had all of the ones he’d need to get the big one out of its resting place and into Fizzy’s hands, which only took a minute.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“Well? Can you fix it up?” he asked impatiently.
“Hold on, meatbag. Still looking.”
It only took moments for Metallopathy to confirm her suspicions. There was a lot more to this thing underneath that brass shell. It was filled to the brim with intricate circuits and wires the likes of which she hadn’t even heard of. The sheer complexity of it all was overwhelming, as if a thousand spiderwebs were interwoven into one terrifyingly compact tapestry of technology. The construction was so intricate that her machine-like precision couldn’t replicate even with a hundred years of practice, and yet the Original Artificer built this thing and many others like it in just a decade or two. Mesmerising complexity aside, her golem-exclusive Skill was unable to grasp the entirety of the key’s inner workings on account of all the non-metal parts in there.
And yet, she still succeeded in confirming that this key was indeed broken. There was a certain circuit pattern that repeated itself hundreds of times as it ran down the length of the shaft. Fizzy could only speculate at its function, but with so many examples of it she could easily determine the faults. Thirteen of them, to be precise. She found that many instances where the metal wiring that ran along the inside of the brass shell had been melted and fused with other bits and pieces, most likely as a result of a nasty short circuit.
“Holy Light!”
A number of snaps and pops came out of the giant brass key as the golden light purified its flaws - both inner and outer.
“That did it!” she held it up triumphantly. “It should work now!”
“Were those wee scratches really an issue?”
It was understandable that the officer would be skeptical, but Fizzy was quick to fill him in. One enlightening explanation later saw Highstone echo the golem’s enthusiasm wholeheartedly. The two of them practically ran up the stairs and into the open, only to immediately stop as they found themselves face-to-face with an enormous man-shaped pile of steel. It spoke, the voice loud and full of cheer.
“Hello, Lieutenant! Björn is here and ready for action!”
“Gods damn it, lad! How many times do I have to tell ye not to sneak up on me like that!?”
One would think that a three-meter-tall giant clad head-to-toe in armor that weighed as much as a house couldn’t be sneaky, but that apparently wasn’t so.
“Hah-hah-haa! Apologies Lieutenant! I got a bit excited when I heard the call for all hands!”
“Of course, ye did. Now quit yer yapping and go wait by the main gate.”
“At once! Björn will gladly take point! Ah-hah-hah-haaa!”
The giant warrior walked off towards the Vault, his stride far too wide for the stout-folk to keep up. Not that Fizzy or Highstone even tried. That little encounter had taken the wind out of their sails somewhat, so they just watched the big guy roll away like an avalanche of steel.
“… You have giants here?” the golem couldn’t help but ask.
“Just a couple of volunteers, part of some immigrant integration nonsense the higher-ups pushed on me.”
Normally any commander would welcome such absolute units into their ranks, but a backwater post like this that almost never saw action was no place for them. They just kind of got in the way of everyone else, not to mention needing several times more food and water than a dwarven soldier. On the bright side, it was finally time for them to earn their keep.
“Sir!”
The subordinate Highstone spoke to earlier ran up and saluted awkwardly.
“The troops are assembled and ready for you, L-T!”
“Good work, Coalshaft! Let’s get this underway!”
The officers and the golem jogged up to join the rest of the outpost. Tony caught up with Fizzy along the way, face and fists covered in bruises and blood from the ‘cultural exchange.’ The sharp Shaman only needed a glance at the big and shiny key in the Paladin’s hands to deduce what all the fuss was about. Approaching the huge wall in the back of the base and going through the portcullis that screeched open greeted the group with a good look at the infamous Vault’s front - and only - door. The entire base was indeed gathered there, though the two volunteers inevitably stuck out the most. The first was Björn, who Fizzy had just met, and she was mildly surprised to find that she recognized the other one as well.
He stood as tall and mighty as his steel-clad kin, though draped in simple white-and-gold vestments of faith with a sun-shaped crest on the chest. His hands bore a pair of mostly decorative gauntlets and his upper arms were left bare, revealing rippling muscles that made one doubt whether this man’s vocation was indeed of a preacher. His golden mane and beard flowed forth from his wide face, seemingly emulating the very thing he worshipped. And yet all that hair did not fail to hide the wide and kindly smile upon his lips, which only widened into an open-mouthed guffaw when he saw the golem.
“Aha! I had a feeling I’d see you again today, white one!”
“Wish I could say the same,” she returned the greeting.
This was Orrin Mildenhall, and he was the head of the temple Fizzy visited last night. The two of them had talked quite a bit while Boxxy’s headstone was being prepared. From what he told the golem, the giants’ presence in Dragunov was his idea. Something about the near-constant sunshine of the controlled climate being a symbol of hope and courage for his people. He said nothing about this military service thing, though it wasn’t as if Fizzy asked. That ‘conversation’ mainly consisted of the big blonde buffoon running his mouth for a few hours while downing entire barrels of wine. Speaking of which, he looked remarkably sober for how much he actually drank.
“I take it you have solved this century-old mystery have you?” the Priest asked.
“Part of it, at least.”
Hearing that seemed to hype up the other soldiers. They were just as eager to see some action as the greenskin in their midst.
“Alright, ye lazy slobs! At attention!” the Lieutenant yelled. “What ye just heard is true! The lady here assures me she fixed some hidden mechanism inside that old, rusty key. She also says she can do the same with the bloody door if need be. But! In case it fails, I need ye all to be on alert to repel those buggers when they come swarming out! I know it’s been a while, but hopefully ye ain’t gone dull since the last time we did this!”
The dwarves formed ranks and slammed their shields together with a yell of ‘Huzzah!’ Björn took point wielding a slab of metal that was basically a portable wall. Orrin stood at the back of the formation, conjured ball of light hovering above his head and golden staff at the ready to dispense healing magic as needed. The platoon marched as one down the relatively narrow cave as they approached the enormous metal door at its end. Just a glance at that thing was enough for Fizzy to confirm that it was just as tough as its reputation said. The material looked eerily close to steel, yet also noticeably different in hue. Far more worrying was all the signs of damage surrounding it. The cave’s walls and floor were riddled in cracks, holes, and burns from dozens of engagements, and bits and pieces of machinery lay strewn about in various states of rust and decay.
Those remnants were indicative of the Vault’s most dangerous security feature. Any attempt to force or tamper with the door would cause it to release dozens of heavily armed automatons to fend off any would-be invaders. Their rapid-fire projectile weaponry was capable of shredding through most things not clad in heavy armor. They also had secondary armaments that launched streams of fire, acid, or lightning at anything that didn’t get mowed down by their auto-cannons. The only saving grace was that they weren’t all that intelligent and were remarkably fragile, but their numbers had proven effectively limitless. On one recorded occasion, the Kingdom had attempted a prolonged assault that lasted nearly four days, yet the Vault never once stopped spitting out those blasted machines. The narrow passage it was embedded in also meant it was impossible to overwhelm the defenses with sheer numbers.
The Kingdom had certainly tried to do so in the past. Once it became clear a frontal assault wasn’t feasible, the throne ordered for a vigilant ‘wait-and-see’ approach that eventually developed into the current state of affairs. Breaking this century-long stalemate was sure to result in riches and glory for everyone involved, so the mix of dwarves, giants, and monsters were all too eager to approach. They were wary of what might lay behind that door, of course, but they’d cross that bridge when they got to it. At present, the group reached the Vault without any incident and formed a perimeter about ten paces from it. They waited for a tense minute or so just to be safe before the Lieutenant turned to Fizzy.
“Miss Rustblood, if you would do us the honors?”
The golem nodded and approached cautiously, oversized wrench in one hand and enormous key in the other. The Vault gave no reaction as she stepped onto the metal ramp leading up to the massive circular bulkhead in the middle of the almost-steel wall. A keyhole was clearly visible right in the middle, just the right shape and size for the extra-large key. Fizzy carefully scanned her surroundings as she went right up to the door. Finding no signs of movement, she put away her weapon and placed a hand on its surface. The Vault remained inert and unresponsive, so the golem directed her focus through it. Unfortunately, as she attempted to pierce its secrest with Metallopathy, she found her Skill unable to go beyond the surface. As best as she could tell, whatever wards shielded the Vault from spatial travel also prevented all forms of magical peeping. This was a problem, as it meant that her metal-healing trick probably wouldn’t work. Therefore, she could only hope and pray to Karen that refurbishing the key was enough to unlock this thing.
The squad behind Fizzy tensed up and readied for the worst as she raised the brass object towards its receptacle. It slid right in with nary a sound, the golem’s hands keeping it steady and level as it went deeper and deeper until it stopped with a barely audible click. Several silent moments later, there was a loud clang from somewhere behind the door. These were followed by a rhythmic series of bangs and bumps as several extremely heavy things started colliding with one another.
“Vnimaniye! Vnimaniye! Dver otkryvayetsya!”
And then, a voice. Distorted, tinny, and speaking a strange tongue, it echoed down the cavern all the way to the outside.
“What’s that about?!” Fizzy turned to the Lieutenant. “Is it arming those defenses?!”
However, the dwarf and his subordinates were too busy staring agape to offer a coherent response. Not that they could give her an answer anyway, since nothing like this had ever happened before.
*SHKA-TUNK SHKA-TUNK SHKA-TUNK SHKA-TUNK*
Next came another series of heavy sounds, followed by an ear-splitting grinding noise as the wheel-like door began receding into the wall. Ten centimeters, twenty centimeters, thirty, forty, fifty - over half a meter later, the door finally cleared the outer wall, allowing a gust of air to seep out of the Vault in the form of a thick white fog. This sudden rush of wind turned to be incredibly cold, as evidenced by how the temperature in the cavern instantly dropped down to freezing levels. The frigid burst of air washed over the flabbergasted troops, shocking them out of their awestruck stupor and into a light panic. Only the giants seemed to stand their ground firm, their hardened bodies used to such frigid cold. Meanwhile the giant slab of metal rolled to the side, allowing a pillar of serene white light to fall upon Fizzy’s frame. The mithril caught and reflected it as brilliantly as it always did, bathing her surroundings in its radiance. It was an odd, almost ethereal scene that when coupled with the unexpected chill made the dwarves and gnomes present feel like they’d entered another world.
“C’mon lads!” shouted Highstone. “Let’s hear it for the Vault-cracker! Hip-hip!”
“Hurrah!”
Spurred on by their officer’s words, the men immediately celebrated the historic moment with a loud cheer.
“Hip-hip!”
“Hurrah!”
“Hip-hip!”
“Hurrah!”
They did so thrice, as was tradition. Their hearts pumped with such ferocity that they no longer felt the dreadful chill permeating the cavern. The giants joined in the revelry, their deep voices booming over all others. These two were less aware of the historic significance of this moment, but as followers of Solus, they were on board with any party or celebration that came their way. And yet, Orrin wasn’t so busy enjoying the moment that he would fail to notice something. Namely the fact that the star of the day hadn’t moved for the past while. Upon closer inspection, he identified the issue.
“Oh dear, can’t have that,” he mumbled. “Ahem… Scorching Radiance!”
The giant invoked a Spell that made the illusory orb of light floating above his head pulse with golden heat. This served to both warm up the men and start melting through the ice covering the golem. With the layer of frost weakened, Fizzy was able to break free with a violent jolt to the side that made the solidified moisture fall off her with a series of cracks and snaps.
“Barry’s bleeding ballsack! Why’d it have to be ice?!”
The wave of heat, sudden movement, and fit of swearing caught the others’ attention, reminding them that it was perhaps a bit too early to celebrate.
“Are you well?” the Priest went to check on her. “I seem to recall frost does not agree with your constitution.”
“I’ll be fine, just caught me by surprise. Thanks for the assist, though.”
“Right, then. We’ll take it from here,” Highstone stepped up. “You have my undying gratitude, Miss Rustblood, but I’ll have to ask you to step away from the Vault.”
The golem had done her part and gotten it open. That was as far as she was supposed to go, and she knew that. However, she hesitated. Her curious nature and inborn thirst for knowledge demanded she stand her ground. Here she was, just a few steps away from one of the world’s best kept secrets that was also quite relevant to her passion for artifice. Turning away from it was simple in theory, but difficult in the moment. The officer noticed her having second thoughts and really wished she wasn’t. The last thing he needed right now was to try and remove her by force. Whether he’d succeed or not wouldn’t matter, as any fighting was likely to upset the Vault’s security and have those blasted automatons swarm the scene.
For better or for worse, neither Highstone nor Fizzy were left with much choice as to what happened next.