by N H Paxton
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Boots of the Falling Titan
Armor Type: Light; Woven Cloth
Class: Rare
Base Defense: 21
Primary Effects:
+7 to Intelligence
+5 to Constitution
15% resistance to poison damage
<<<>>>
Pants of the Willing Way
Armor Type: Light; Woven Cloth
Class: Rare
Base Damage: 27
Primary Effects:
+6 to Intelligence
+2 to Dexterity
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Gloves of the Musketeer
Armor Type: Light, Enchanted Cloth
Class: Rare
Base Defense: 17
Primary Effects:
15% weapon accuracy with ranged and engineered weapons
15% weapon damage with ranged and engineered weapons
<<<>>>
Circlet of the Broken Voice
Armor Type: Light; Enchanted Cloth
Class: Epic
Base Defense: 25
Primary Effects:
+15 to Intelligence
+10 to Spirit
+5 to Luck
Secondary Effects:
15% increased damage output on all elemental-based damage
There are things that cannot be said with your voice, they must be spoken through action.
<<<>>>
I stared hard at the circlet. I was certain that the name and the flavor text were intended to make fun of my inability to speak perfect English in this game dominated by English-speaking people.
All of the gear was light armor, which was perfect because my specialization gave me a huge bonus to light armor, as well as giving me enhanced Intelligence and Spirit for every piece of light armor I wore.
When I had finished at the armory, I found myself a solitary place to take account of what had happened.
“Need to think, plan, refocus.” I fished a cigarette out of my inventory and lit it. It was one of the set I had laced with Elves’ Thread. I inhaled the sweet smoke as I sat, rolling through the situation.
On one hand, I had a considerable lead on the competition. I was able to complete the twelve shadow cannons in time to get them into the warfront. We had a sizable army, and we had a plan to take the opponent by surprise. The pros of the situation, so to speak, were considerable.
I fiddled with a steel component I had unknowingly pulled from my inventory while I thought. The cold steel felt reassuring, somehow. As though it were a friend, sitting with me during a tough situation.
Unfortunately, in a list of pros and cons, I was going to have to list the cons. I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes hard, willing things to go in a positive direction, then I started listing the negatives.
We were outnumbered, likely five to one, with regards to manpower. If it came to a full-frontal assault, we would absolutely lose. Our statistical disadvantage was so incredibly high that it would be a suicide mission in any other world. The enemy had wall-mounted archers, ranks upon ranks of trained, readied soldiers, and many more weapons. They were better trained, better geared, better defended—or at least that was what I had been told by Cutter. Our weapons would not be capable of breaching the walls, and if our inside team failed to open the gates, Jack and his assault team would be overrun before we could get reinforcements to them.
“What are realistic chances, Vlad?” I rolled my head around slowly, trying to release the tension that had built up in my neck and shoulders over the last day. I did some mental math, utilizing numerical statistics from hundreds of days of studying combat data in my past. I ran through twenty-five different iterations of the battle playing out, from start to finish. Only a single one ended in success, and it relied on everything going perfect, from start to finish.
“It is a low chance.” My voice came from another location, not my own mouth. I opened my eyes and saw myself sitting across from me.
“Yes, but it can be done.” I spoke deliberately of a positive outcome. I wanted to know for sure that I could accomplish this enormous task.
“Can it, though?” Earth Vlad, whom I had spoken with before during my difficulty in the sewers, stood. He dusted himself off then walked in a tight, pacing circle. “Consider the odds for a moment.” He held up a single finger.
“The odds are one.” I rolled my eyes. This was going nowhere.
“No, it is the first point. You’re an idiot.” He shook his head before continuing. “The walls cannot be breached by cannon fire, correct?”
“Highly unlikely. The impact velocity is insufficient to destroy the barrier. The cannon fire will explode, but it is not a solid salvo. The payload is of an arcane construction, also elemental shadow, in combination.”
He held up a second finger.
“Do we have the breaching team open both gates?” He stopped and folded his arms across his chest.
“That’s the plan. The problem is if we are detected, everything fails.” I stood this time, brushing the ground cover off of my pants. I looked to the sky.
“The sky will not give you an answer.” Earth Vlad, with the jokes.
“What if the insurgent teams fly?”
“Jack is already planning on flying.” A cocky smile shot across his face.
“Then really, the only option under a failure situation is for a sapper team to take down the walls.” I shook my head. There weren’t enough options, and time was running out.
“Vlad, what does Rowanheath remind you of?” Earth Vlad had his index finger tapping against the side of his head, a half smile on his face.
“I do not know, it is not famil—oh.” Suddenly everything clicked.
Many years back, I had developed the blueprint, or rather blueprints, for a mobile fortress. It was large, square, made of steel, and had a command center in the middle that stood tall. The entire thing was intended to be a temporary city for an emergency situation, specifically post-cataclysm. I didn’t believe that Rowanheath itself was the same mobile platform, but it stood to reason that, since Almaz-Antev was working directly with Osmark Technologies, they would have shared resources in the development and production of the game universe.
“Yes, it is project Drachma, the Mobile Fortress.” He tilted his head with a smile, but it turned to a frown as he saw my face. I stood with a thousand-yard stare, running new statistics.
“New problem: how to overcome sizable defensive fortification.” My fingers twitched as I ran through the calculations.
“The walls are made of stone, the Crimson Alliance has spiders, everything will be fine.” I blinked and Earth Vlad was gone, no trace of his existence aside from the conversation I’d clearly had with myself.
“How to build city, make technologically advanced?” I became completely lost in thought, and there were no answers coming to me.
My hand reached up to my neck where I had started to wear the key from my specialization quest. I gripped the object, planning to use it as a grounding focus for my mind. I often fiddled with the tools I held when working in order to focus better, but this particular choice was poor. I was immediately ripped from where I stood and left to float in an empty space, surrounded by a massive area of nothing.
“What in hell?” I looked around and felt an ominous presence in the darkness all around me.
“Do not look for the answer, the key only holds death.” A voice, almost a hiss, issued forth from everywhere at once.
I turned about quickly, looking for any kind of light or object, anything to focus my attention on.
“Show yourself, Vlad tires of games!” I was angry and irritated. I had dealt with being shoved into a dark shadow mine, then attacked on the very grounds of my faction, and then belittled by my own memory of myself. Now I was floating in an endless void, with no way to tell which way was up.
“I am here.” A shadowy apparition appeared before me, her figure becoming more solid as she approached. The shade
faded away, leaving only Ina standing in front of me, her auburn hair and sun-kissed skin just the way I remembered. She had a sad, yet understanding, smile on her face.
“It cannot be you.” I didn’t believe it at all. I had failed her twice now. There was no way she was standing in front of me. It had to be a trick.
“Touch me, Vlad, and know the truth.”
The Abyss Stares Back...
I WASN’T EXACTLY SURE what to expect, but as my fingers brushed her skin, she felt real. Her skin was warm, soft, the same as I remembered. I embraced her fiercely. I had missed her so much, it was almost a struggle to let her go. But I had to. I needed to move on from this.
“Vlad, it’s time to let go. I need to show you something.” Ina’s voice was tender, without a hint of anger or reprisal. I fought with myself to release her, to give up on my grip. Finally, after considerable effort, I managed to let go.
“Ina, this life, it’s so difficult.” I choked on my words, and my eyes felt hard, swollen. They burned as though they were filled with salt. I felt the first, heavy tear roll down my cheek. I wiped it away—I didn’t need to be showing this much emotion.
“Every life is difficult, darling. One of these days, things will be easier.” The voice had changed, and before me was my mother, but not as I remembered her. She was young, the woman I had seen in photographs taken before I was born, kept in the family albums. Her dark curly hair hung around her face, her bronze eyes showing a fierce intelligence I could never have matched.
“Mother? But why?” I couldn’t understand what was going on. Why was I seeing these women from my past, and why now?
“There is nothing to be done for it.” Her voice was pleasant, but firm. She reached out, and her hand wrapped around my throat. Her face changed to something terrible, evil, a roiling mask of shadow and anger.
“What...” I couldn’t get the phrase out. I could feel my throat starting to give as her grip tightened.
“He’s got to die. It’s just what needs to happen.” Another figure appeared to my side, her willowy arms grasping at my left hand. Her body was swollen, inflated with some kind of gas, but I could still make out her face.
“Anivia...” I was starting to lose consciousness. My sister’s face twisted and contorted into some kind of horrid smile, her mouth full of hideous fangs. Her nails tore at the skin on my wrist.
My entire shoulder shifted and ripped completely from my body. The pain was agonizing.
“Enough!” A loud voice split the darkness, along with a light that struck the ground. It exploded in a shower of flames, the light eating away at the shades that were literally tearing me apart.
The shades hissed in unison as the light dissolved their forms into nothing. My body collapsed on the ground, my faculties unwilling and unable to keep me standing. I landed on my face, everything in my body refusing to cooperate.
“I...” I croaked through a broken throat, every muscle in my body tightening up at once, a direct result of the total lack of oxygen.
“No, no, I can fix this.” The voice was familiar, but also so distant that I couldn’t make it out.
I just lay on the ground, battered and broken as a face I had thought long destroyed came into view. Though hazy, I could see the hair, the smile, the deep crystal-blue eyes of Alvinoth, the Last Alchemic Weaponeer, the very same who had gifted me my specialization. He looked down at my broken form with a smile of pity. “Oh Vlad, look at the trouble I got you into.”
I wasn’t sure how long I had been unconscious, but when I awoke, I was lying on a table of some kind. My vision was blurry and everything ached. I tried to sit up, but found myself strapped down at the neck, wrist, and ankles. My left arm was still detached from my body. I had an intense, piercing pain where the arm should have been.
“Ah, you’re awake.” Alvinoth’s voice sounded hollow in the empty space. I turned my head as far as I could manage to see where he was. He sat in a chair of fine leather, his legs crossed, sipping from an expensive teacup.
“What is this?” I looked down at my body, then back at him.
“I’m going to put you back together, Vlad. But it’s going to hurt, and it’s going to require you to be still.” He set the teacup on a table that grew like a flower from the darkness.
“This place, where is?” I ignored the throbbing agony in my left side through sheer force of will.
“This is the Vault of Souls, did you forget so quickly?” Alvinoth stood and worked his hands together, popping each individual knuckle slowly.
“I know of no place.” There was a brief flash of memory in the back of my mind, some kind of horror story, a terrible decision made by a powerful entity, and a task set before me to complete it.
“Oh, I see that glint in your eye! You remembering now?” He took a few steps toward me, then reached into a pouch fastened to his hip. He produced a small, glowing flask of brilliant green, very similar to the one I had turned in for my Alchemy and Herblore levels. “It took ages to complete, but thanks to the power of the Shadow Realm, we were able to complete it in a matter of years.”
He uncorked the vial and put it to his lips. It sluiced out of the neck of the vial and into his mouth. He grimaced as the liquid completed its journey, the glass vial changing from a clear piece of glass to a hard piece of stone.
“Yick, that never tastes better, no matter how many I take.” He dropped the vial, which floated where his hand left it, spinning in the emptiness.
“What now?” My words were appended by clenched teeth, the pain starting to eat away at my very will.
“Now, I fix that arm.” He rolled both of his hands into fists. They began to glow gently in the darkness as he opened his fingers, completely splayed out. A few quick steps followed, and he was above me. His hands moved swiftly through the air, etching colors into the space above my body. “This is going to hurt.” He clenched his teeth, a pained expression on his face.
I didn’t have time to think about it for long, because the second his hands stopped moving, he touched my arm and my shoulder simultaneously and the world was a cauldron of boiling magma.
I could do nothing aside from scream, the sound becoming a rasping noise against the darkness that ensconced Alvinoth’s makeshift infirmary. I gasped deeply, my lungs burning as I felt my bones mending, the ligaments and tendons rejoining their counterparts, the muscles reaching out and mending the tear. The nerves that came last, those were the worst pain I had ever experienced. It felt like someone had injected molten slag into my veins. My entire body convulsed from the overpowering pain as I struggled to keep conscious. Part of me wanted to embrace the darkness of being unaware, but another part of me demanded I be strong and understand the lesson being imparted, if there was one.
The torment stopped suddenly, followed by a cooling sensation as my flesh knit back together, the skin creating a bridge for itself, then moving gently to close the remaining gap. I willed my left hand to close, to make a fist, and I found that it obeyed. There was no lag time, no connection issues, nothing that said I had been missing it for any period of time.
“Oh, good, it worked.” Alvinoth stepped back then collapsed into his chair. His forehead was a sheet of sweat; he looked exhausted.
“The pain, is gone. My arm is again mine.” A slight smile perked the edges of my lips.
“That’s a good thing. Last time I tried that, the person exploded—err, I mean, they definitely didn’t turn inside out. Nope.” Alvinoth looked away, his face turning a brighter red than I thought possible despite his Dawn Elf heritage.
“Perhaps simply needed more data!” I said as I laughed from deep within myself. Alvinoth started to laugh as well, his voice cheerful again.
“Alright, Vlad, we’ve got a few things to talk about. Let’s get those bindings off.” A snap of his fingers and the entire table dissolved. I was standing in place, where I had been previously lying down.
“This place, it is terrifying.” My eyes were wide as I reoriented mysel
f. My head was spinning from the instantaneous relocation.
“Ah, yeah, not a great place. But we built it, and that key you carry about from my grimoire, that’s the only thing keeping this place sealed. It’s also the only thing keeping it from being destroyed by time.” Alvinoth’s voice had taken on a serious tone. It concerned me greatly that he would actually be serious, since he had sacrificed himself with a smile on his face in the Plague Tunnels.
“This key, has power over time?” I pulled the key from under my shirt and held it out a short distance, looking at its deformed and ancient appearance.
“Hey, hey, put that thing away.” I did as I was commanded while Alvinoth paced in a large circle. It was a curious circle, since it seemed to somehow include him defying gravity, as though he were walking on a wall at times.
“So, key?” I raised an eyebrow along with my tone of voice. I needed to know more about what I was carrying around.
“Yeah, that key. It’s crafted from a Dark Harbinger’s Soul. It is literally a key made of souls.” Alvinoth stopped pacing and started staring at his hand while he rolled his fingers as though he were holding a stress ball. “So, this is where things get complicated.”
“Complicated is specialty,” I said with a smile.
Alvinoth waved his hands in the air, creating a mirrored rectangle. I wasn’t sure what he was planning to do with the object, but he did a sudden about-face and then snapped his fingers.
“The Vault of Souls, a place where exceptional souls are stored for exceptional reasons. You and I, my friend, created it by weaving the very fabric of chaos and order, weaving space-time in ways people only wish they could understand.” There was a display of this entire process on the rectangle hanging in the air. He had basically created a video screen for me to see it in retrograde.
“How did accomplish? Is no mean feat!” I shook my head. The sheer power necessary to accomplish something of this magnitude would factor into the deific.
“Now we get into the fun of it. I, or rather we, were tasked with the creation of this place by an ancient deity, one who is often forgotten in Eldgard. Aediculus, the Overmind of creation, invention, and development. His will was to have a sterile environment where the Overminds could research the exceptional souls that were sent here.”