by Mark B Frost
Abaddon gave a grunt and leaned his shoulder against the wall. Cildar turned and gave him a look. “Are you alright, sir? You’ve been at this for hours.”
The big man steadied himself and raised his swords. “Keep moving. We’ll rest once we reach the chamber. The demons won’t go near the rune structure.”
“That’s certainly not ominous,” the paladin responded irritably.
The three warriors pressed on, with Relm hiding timidly in their midst. The cave narrowed as they traveled, changing from an open expanse to a narrow tunnel only barely large enough for safe combat. The ranks of monsters began to thin and soon the Felthespari found themselves at a small opening. Now free from harassment from the cave’s denizens, they stepped through the portal into a new large chamber. Cildar carved a few scattered protection runes into the ground, mostly from habit, then sat down on a rock to relax. Abaddon leaned against one of the walls while Myris moved to the center of the chamber.
Cildar rubbed his neck. “At least that’s over for a while.”
“This is undoubtedly impressive,” Myris commented.
The cavernous area they had entered was far more expansive than any other part of the underground chambers, stretching so high and wide that they were forced to consider how far underground they had come. Before them rose the sight that had caught Myris’ attention. A massive rune structure stretched from wall to wall, floor to ceiling. It was easily the most advanced structure any of them had ever beheld, comprised of so many layers that nothing beyond could be seen.
Relm stepped toward the unnatural barrier. “This really is something else, isn’t it? Who could have written something like this?” She began looking over it and cast a few reactionary spells. A small series of red runes flared up above the others, and she released a gasp. “This is Kinguin’s work!”
“Are you certain?” Cildar asked. “Why would he make something like this? Why would it be a secret from the Grand Council?”
“I don’t know, but I’m certain those are his signature runes. I mean, they can be faked easily enough, but why would someone bother?”
Abaddon turned his head. “First the entrance was sealed, then a second barrier that even I cannot pass. It does seem to carry Kinguin’s sense of superfluity.”
Relm clucked in disapproval. “Redundant layers of security aren’t superfluous, it’s just smart. But it’s true that few mages are as meticulous as Lord Kinguin.” She reached out and started to place her hand on the runes in front of her. In an instant Abaddon shot across the room and grabbed her wrist, causing her to release a startled squeak.
“Don’t.” He let go of her and placed his own hand on the wall. A surge of electricity shot into him and he screamed in agony briefly before managing to tear himself away. He stood breathing heavily, blood and smoke spilling from his arm. “One of those redundant layers,” he said with a scowl.
“I see,” she answered, taking a step back from the wall. “Give me some time for a proper examination and I’ll try to figure out what it is. Since Kinguin designed it, I should be able to decipher it.”
The soldiers lounged idly while Relm studied the rune structure. She scanned it meticulously, casting small test spells and judging their reactions, nodding and mumbling to herself. Occasionally she would lean in too close, and jumped back with a high-pitched yelp as the runes crackled at her.
Myris slid over to Abaddon. “What do you think is here? You did not seem surprised to find the structure was made by Lord Kinguin, yet you do not cancel our quest. I am forced to conclude that you know what it is we seek.”
Abaddon stared at Relm as she worked, but answered, “Kargaroth.”
Myris’ breath caught and he took a step back. Abaddon paid him no mind, but Cildar noticed a shiver the Cainite seemed to have developed.
“Kargaroth?”
“It’s a sword. A very old one. Kargaroth, The Unholy Blade. I tried to do some research on it this morning, but it’s scarcely mentioned in our history books. It’s the sword that the Knighthood, specifically Cardinal Talis, used during the Arocaen. Rumors from the time suggest that the sword could slay dozens of Cainites with each blow.” He looked to Myris and raised an eyebrow. “Of course, the Cainites are not my enemy. I’m trusting it will prove equally effective against Revians.”
Cildar piped in, “I think you’re overreaching. One man with a sword isn’t going to make the difference in a war. If we’re going to defeat Revian, we need good soldiers and lots of them. The new training regimens that we’ve implemented have been working, and young knights are climbing the ranks at record pace. If you want to take out Revian, just give us time. We’ll forge an army fit for the job.”
“‘One man with a sword isn’t going to make the difference.’ Yet they call me Destroyer and run from my shadow. Then tell me, Emle, what you think is hidden behind this wall, at the bottom of a cave full of demons, sealed just outside of our city’s borders.”
“Maybe some kind of dragon the wizards bred by accident working on a new type of peist. Probably something terrible that none of us ever want to see.”
Suddenly Relm hopped up and clapped her hands. “I’ve got it!”
Cildar slapped his knee sarcastically. “Oh joy.”
The young girl bounced over to Abaddon. “This is definitely a Kinguin rune structure, and one for the history books at that. It’s fantastic, far beyond anything I’ve ever seen or been taught about or—”
“Get on with it,” he barked swiftly.
“Sorry.” She straightened the ears on her hood and calmed herself. “I’ve poured over every bit of the structure. It’s basically a giant channeling matrix of sorts. It draws power from the Asterian plane, shapes it, feeds it through an energy purifying sequence that I don’t understand, then feeds that energy back to itself.”
Cildar again rubbed the back of his neck. “It feeds itself? Does that mean it’s growing?”
“Sort of. But as a composition of Asterian energy manifested on the Morolian plane, it doesn’t have true mass or shape. It’s not really getting bigger in such a way that you’d notice, but it continuously grows more potent. The energy cycle produces runoff, and that runoff is gathered again and looped back through the cycle. Once the runoff has been processed so many times it can no longer be sufficiently purified, the structure releases it into the cave. That’s the energy that’s keeping the monsters here alive and forcing their evolution into bigger, nastier things. Even though the structure sustains the entire cave, it’s able to build up more energy than it puts out every cycle. I can’t even begin to imagine how that’s possible, but Kinguin must have—”
Abaddon released a soft growl, signaling his rising impatience.
Relm did not miss this and quickly put herself back on track. “Since it’s constantly building itself, any damage we do will be almost immediately undone. Even if we had the staggering amount of power necessary to collapse the barrier we can actually see, the other parts of the structure would restore it before we could react. I tried test versions of the normal release spells that might make a rune structure collapse, but from the reactions I’d say that Kinguin has set up traps that would cause an energy backlash that would fry me if I tried a real one. In short, it can’t be taken down. It’s totally impossible!” She ended her announcement cheerfully, with a smile and a hop.
Cildar tapped the butt of his Trine Lance on the ground. “I, for one, am glad to hear it. Now let’s head back so we can get some sleep.”
Abaddon narrowed his eyes at Relm. “I need through.”
She tilted her head to one side. “It’s not possible. Kinguin clearly designed this so that no one could get through it. Even he couldn’t disable it. He’s got a few specific weakness he normally leaves in his designs that only he knows how to dig into. Even those aren’t here. Whatever is behind this wall, he doesn’t want anyone getting to it.”
“I’m overriding Kinguin’s wishes here. He’s one Grand Councilor, and Cildar, Myris, and I
make three, a full half of the voting Council. And we all vote that this wall has to come down.”
“Wait, what?” Cildar interjected. “Shouldn’t we actually hold that vote?”
“No,” Abaddon answered. “You vote with me. Now be silent.”
Relm creased her brow. “I don’t know. It doesn’t seem right to go behind Kinguin’s back like this.”
“I’ll answer to Kinguin. You’re acting under the orders of one of the highest officials of the government. You have no culpability in this situation.” He glared at her and lowered his voice. “Or choice.”
She scratched her chin and turned back to the wall. “Okay, but I still don’t know how to do it. I mean...” she trailed off and went quiet for several minutes. The others stood silent, leaving her to her thoughts.
After a while Cildar moved to Myris. He whispered quietly, “With any luck she’ll give up and we’ll head back. I tend to agree with the girl. If Kinguin wanted something sealed down here, we shouldn’t unearth it without at least asking him what it is. If Abaddon wants to have the Council strong-arm him into letting us have it, we could do it in a meeting. You know, where I get to actually vote.”
Myris started to respond, then Relm suddenly announced, “I’ve got an idea!”
“Optimism gets me nowhere,” Cildar grumbled.
“Okay,” she continued, “white magic and black magic are in direct conflict with each other. When a white spell hits a black spell of equal strength, they absorb each other and both spells vanish into oblivion. Poof! What’s neat, though, is that this cancellation effect can sometimes create small pockets in reality that actually have enough visceral impact to rend the inner-planar layers of the Veil. The Veil is smart enough to repair these nearly instantly, because they’re a pretty serious threat to reality’s cohesive properties, but if you can stabilize the reaction and stall it out with some temporal interference, you can generate a brief ether vortex!”
Myris and Cildar exchanged glances, then the paladin offered, “I think you lost us on that one.”
“Okay, beginner’s version: if Cildar uses a strong white magic spell and Myris uses a strong black magic spell, you can have them hit each other in a certain way and create a magical vortex that will suck up the rune structure and then viola! It won’t be able to rebuild itself.”
Myris tapped his Soul Scythe and the blade emitted a soft blue light. He swung in the direction of the runes, and the light turned into shards of ice that flew at the wall. Before they reached it there was a flash from the runes, and the attack vanished.
“It would seem,” he proposed, “that Kinguin has planned for that particular contingency, as well.”
Cildar attempted an Aura Blast, but the beam of light stopped several feet short of the rune structure for no discernible reason. “That’s impressive. He’s even designed it to counteract white magic, somehow.”
Relm mumbled something to herself and stared thoughtfully at the wall of light. “Apparently there’s a secondary barrier that cuts off any powerful spells. But it let my test spells through, so it probably only blocks spells it feels are threatening.”
In spite of his misgivings, Cildar found himself caught up in the puzzle. “That’s not a problem for white magic. I can always find a nonthreatening spell.”
Myris shook his head. “Not so for my techniques.”
Relm waved a hand at them. “Wouldn’t matter. A nonthreatening mix of magics wouldn’t be volatile enough to trigger a vortex. Even if it was, it would likely be too small to be of any use against a structure like this one. We’ll need a surrogate.”
“A surrogate?” Cildar queried. “What do you mean?”
“The rune structure won’t allow your spells to get close enough to mix. But if your spells had already mixed and created the vortex, maybe we could move the vortex close enough to the rune structure to achieve what we need.”
“Can you do that?” Myris replied. “Can you move the vortex?”
Relm frowned. “No. Not after it’s formed.” She turned to Abaddon. “Can you see the second barrier?”
He shook his head. “There is no second barrier.” He pointed to where the rune structure met the cave’s wall. “Phare, aim a spell there, at the wall.”
Myris did as commanded. A Fireball spell flew across the chamber and smashed into the rock wall only inches away from the edge of the rune structure, creating a small shower of debris.
“There’s no barrier,” Abaddon concluded. “The structure is making decisions, defending itself against attacks directed at it.”
Relm’s eyes went wide. “That’s incredible! How remarkably advanced!” She squinted in thought. “But it might let my surrogate idea work after all.”
“An idea which you never bothered to explain to us,” Myris reminded.
“Oh, right. So, the rune structure won’t let your spells get close to it. My first idea was to have you create the vortex outside of the second barrier by focusing your spells on an object of some sort, then moving the object at the wall. But that would never have worked, because since the vortex is ethereal, it won’t be possible to tie it to a physical form. Since there is no second barrier, we can put the object as close to the rune structure as we want and have you two focus your attacks there.”
Cildar punched a fist into his palm. “Sounds solid.”
“Well...” Relm responded reluctantly.
His eyes narrowed. “I didn’t like the sound of that.”
“There is one teensy-weensy catch. The object that you focus your spells on? It has to be me.”
“What?! What the hell is wrong with you? Do you have any idea how insane it is for Myris and I to blast you with our most powerful offensive spells? Either one of them is more than enough to kill you instantly!”
“Yes, either spell separately is enough to kill me. But both together will cancel and be harmless. For this to work I have to be between the two spells. These vortexes almost never form naturally. The only way they can reliably be created is if the energies from the spells are held apart and arranged into a particular shape around each other, and then slowly allowed to mix. It’s called Spell Hacking. You put up an ether channeling barrier that contains the spells briefly, and while they’re being held you can change them. It’s a trick that only elite wizards can do, but Kinguin showed me how.”
Cildar scratched his head. “And I thought Haste was risky.”
Relm put a hand on his shoulder. “We can do it! I know we can.”
He looked at her, then turned to Abaddon. “What do you think?”
The stubborn man continued to stare at the wall, as though his will alone might help bring it down. “Is there anything we could do to make this safer? Any supplies from Felthespar that would help?”
“Nothing I can think of. We have everything we need.”
“Is there anyone in the Arcanum better suited for this than you?”
She twisted her mouth up. “Kinguin, maybe. But Spell Hacking, once you know the setup spells, isn’t overly complicated. If anything goes wrong I can redirect Myris and Cildar’s attacks safely away from myself and we can try again. It sounds more dangerous than it really is.”
“Then bring it down,” he demanded with finality.
“I guess that settles it,” Cildar said. “What do you need from us?”
She walked over and crouched nearby the rune structure, then began drawing her own runes on the ground around her. “What I’ll need from you both is a powerful and, more importantly, costly spell. I need spells that consume large amounts of ether and I need them to be spells that you can focus solely on me. Oh, and also, I need you to coordinate your efforts so that you wind up using spells that are of equal strength.”
Myris snorted. “She doesn’t ask for much, does she?”
“What about it?” the Dragoon asked. “Got any spells that sound right?”
The Cainite froze up, mentally running through his matrixes but finding nothing of use. He shook his head, the
n put his hand on his chin and thought out loud. “I could use a Shadow Flare. It allows me to collapse explosive energy inward onto a target. It is my most powerful shadow magic.”
“I can use a Holy Wave, for my part.”
Myris looked up, and one of the ghostly flames that covered his eyes shrank slightly. The effect was meant to resemble one eye squinting, but Cildar had never gotten used to that part of the illusion. “I am unfamiliar with that technique.”
“It was developed after the end of the Arocaen. Only the Dragoons really continue to practice it. It gathers your spiritual energy and releases it in a focused explosion. In the hands of a potent white magic user, the spell is as devastating as Holy Light, but at a much greater cost. It has no restorative properties and is very taxing.”
“What of the ether problem?”
“I’ve got a wide range of energy levels I can adjust for Holy Wave.”
“I have similar leeway with Shadow Flare.”
The two knights discussed further as Relm continued building a protective rune structure around her. Abaddon watched idly, expressionless and silent.
Eventually Myris and Cildar settled in on their plan, and Relm announced that she was ready to begin. She stood about a foot away from the wall, while the soldiers stood a couple of yards behind and slightly to each side.
“Alright guys,” she said with excitement, “prepare your spells. It’s important that you hit me with them at the exact same time, otherwise I won’t be able to find the proper mix.”
“We’ve got it,” Myris countered impatiently. “Let us proceed.”
She nodded and spoke a few incantations. As the field flared around her, she nodded again and the men began their work.
An intense white light began to swell and boil around Cildar’s body while Myris moved his hands rapidly and built dozens of small runes in the air. Cildar thrust his hands and an explosion of energy shot forth. The attack was huge, shapeless and focused only enough to travel in a single direction. It slammed into Relm as a tidal wave of light. At the same time, Myris raised his hands into the air. His runes faded and reappeared around the young herald. Each pulled in a stream of ether, then converted it to explosive energy that smashed into her.