Mage Tank

Bankrolls.

Cash money.

Scrooge McDuck levels of legal tender.

I actually didn’t have that much. I mean, I had more notes than most people, but in comparison to my total liquid wealth, it was a very small fraction. What I did have was an unreasonable amount of chips, especially after dealing with the bug brigade.

Your party has slain Quiet Solitude, the Doomed Aspirant: Abomination, Grade Fourteen.

Your party has slain Thundering Arrow, the Doomed Aspirant: Abomination, Grade Fourteen.

Your party has slain Blood Scour, the Doomed Aspirant: Abomination, Grade Fourteen.

Your party has slain Boundless Night, the Doomed Aspirant: Abomination, Grade Fourteen. Your party receives the following rewards:

1) 56 Emerald Chips

3) Staff of Quiet Solitude

4) Longbow of Thundering Arrow

5) Bardiche of Blood Scour

7) Scutum of Blood Scour

6) Wand of Boundless Night

Party Leader has set chip and currency allocation to: Even Distribution.

Distribution has been adjusted based on party member participation.

You receive: 21 Emerald Chips.

Party Leader has set item allocation to: Master Looter.

Party Leader receives all other rewards.

“What?!” Xim shouted as she digested the rewards. “Fifty-six Emerald chips?!” She looked up at me, wide-eyed. “Fifty-six?!”

“Yeah, these things are worth a lot,” I said. “Too much, really.”

“Never say that again,” said Nuralie.

“The Pit only gave us 24!” Xim continued shouting. She looked back down at her notification, then frowned. “Hey, I got shortchanged.” She didn’t sound mad about it, but oddly amused.

“I guess because you came in after the fight started,” I offered.

“Yeah, sure,” she said, dismissing the notification. “Fair enough.”

“We can decide our own split,” I said. “We’re not beholden to the System randomly deciding that even distribution doesn’t mean that the distribution is, you know, even.”

“No, I don’t care,” Xim said with a wave. “I hardly use the chips anyway.”

“I do not understand,” said Nuralie. She searched for words, looking at Xim with concern as though the rose-skinned woman was suffering from some profound illness. Then Nuralie froze in a loson pause and blinked. “It is money.”

I wasn’t going to argue with someone declining my offer of enough capital to buy a small island, so I let the pair argue over finances while I perused the items.

The Staff of Quiet Solitude buffed curses, which was a pretty specific category of spells. No one in our group used curses, so I noted the staff’s properties to report to the party, then placed it into a section of my inventory that I’d marked for selling or trading.

The Longbow of Thundering Bolt allowed the wielder to instantly cast Lightning Bolt once per hour for free. It also let you zoom in on a target for a better shot, at the cost of stamina. It was nifty, but when I interrupted the continuing debate over the virtues of hoarding wealth to show it to Nuralie, she wasn’t interested. Another one for the vault.

The Bardiche of Blood Scour was something we might be able to use.

Bardiche of Blood Scour

“Shit! Gah! Fuck!”

–Last words of Hendrick Langhry, self-titled Lord of the Eschen Wastes.

Requirements: STR 40, SPD 20, Blades 20

Effects:

1) When dealing damage, this weapon applies 1 Bleeding/second for every 2 attacks you have made in the last 6 seconds.

2) Your movement and attack speed are increased by 1% for each stack of Bleeding/second applied by this weapon in the last minute.

It was a Blades weapon, Varrin’s specialty, but I didn’t think the big guy would want to use it since it was a polearm, not a sword. Plus, he had Kazandak. That sword was not only good but also held a lot of sentimental value.

However, Varrin’s morally ambivalent student, Shog, was quickly learning how to become a master of the cutting edge. What I didn’t know was whether Shog could even use the bardiche. Did he have the Blades skill, or did the System determine whether the c’thon met weapon requirements through some other measure? His greatswords certainly had requirements, and he was using those just fine. He was focused on swords, but if he somehow held the Blades skill, the bonuses would apply to any bladed weapon so long as he hadn’t specialized. I’d have to ask.

Regardless, Shog was rapidly becoming a storm of razor-edged steel. He currently held 4 swords at once, and I was betting he could use even more. I’d seen my summon manipulate as many as 8 limbs independently of one another, so it was possible he could make 8 or more attacks in the 6-second time frame. If he cycled the bardiche into his attack pattern, he’d end up applying an absolute shit ton of Bleed.

Further, the bardiche applied Bleeding per second, whereas the best item we’d found for Bleeding still listed the value as Bleeding per minute. That meant each stack from this weapon was worth 60 from a per-minute item, and 3,600 stacks per hour. This thing could kill me in 1 minute with 21 stacks, and that wasn’t considering the damage the weapon itself would deal while it cut me into bloody ribbons.

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Of course, I was immune to Bleeding. So fuck off, Roach. Your weapon was useless against me.

The Scutum of Blood Scour was a shield that complimented the bardiche by applying Bleeding to anyone it blocked. Other than that, it was a big honkin’ metal rectangle about as heavy as a small car. Seriously, it was 7 feet tall. The only person I’d met who could likely even hold it properly was Varrin, and he didn’t have the Shields skill since–in his words–“There is no reason to block when the enemy is on the ground in several pieces.”

Maybe I could wear it on my back like a Koopa shell, but it’d slow me down too much. Being able to dodge on occasion was the only reason my head was still attached. Not that I knew for certain that a beheading would kill me anymore, but I wasn’t quite ready to experiment with having my whole body cut off.

I ended my perusal with the Wand of Boundless Night. The soul suppression it had radiated was an effect I hadn’t experienced outside of being crushed by the presence of extremely powerful beings. Needless to say, it made me curious.

Wand of Boundless Night

Found in the dark abyss beneath a Dread God’s bed.

Requirements: WIS 40, Spiritual Magic 40

Effects:

1) Choose 1 Spiritual spell you know. Whenever you use this wand as a focus to cast the chosen spell, the wand emits powerful soul pressure on all nearby entities. You and your allies are resistant to this effect, but in no way immune.

The strength of this pressure appears to be determined by the wielder’s familiarity with manipulating the soul. Subjects affected by the pressure experience varying mental disruptions, the severity of which is probably based on their familiarity with soul magicks. Observed reactions include confusion, a sense of foreboding or doom, existential dread, hallucination, paranoia, and a fervent belief that an unknown creature is inhabiting the space next to them.

In the latter case, subjects enter a state of severe agitation and distress, insisting that they can clearly see the said creature but are unable to describe any characteristics of the entity or its actions. In such cases, the only information gleaned from affected subjects is that they consistently note the creature as being malevolent.

Mundane humanoids have unilaterally experienced psychotic breaks when exposed to the emitted soul pressure, which sometimes transitions to catatonia followed by death due to dehydration, malnourishment, or other related complications.

System interactions with this item often contain inexplicable absences of certain types of data. These data deficiencies cannot be resolved definitively, but are indicative of the existence of certain individuals for whom no records exist. Others who are suspected to be related to such unidentifiable persons appear to have no memory of them and fervently deny their existence, even while under the influence of Suggestion, Area of Honesty, or Dominate. While no conclusions can be drawn, it is suspected that some individuals affected by the wand have their identities erased and all evidence of their lives destroyed through some unknown mechanism.

…

Honestly, this effect frustrates us.

What’s the range? Who knows! What does it do, exactly? Soul shit! Even its requirements are just recommendations. You’ll have to investigate it yourself if you want to know more. Be sure to tell us if you figure something out.

Ha, no, never mind. You don’t have to tell us. We’ll see what happens either way.

We’re always watching.

2) Stored Spell: Psychic Bolt. You may spend 25 mana to imbue this wand with 1 charge of Psychic Bolt. Maximum number of charges: 5

Psychic Bolt

Spiritual

Cost: 1 charge

Requirements: INT 20, Spiritual Magic 20

Lash out against the mind of your target with a concentrated blast of psychic energy. Make an INT Spiritual attack against an entity within a number of feet equal to your Spiritual Magic level. This attack deals Psychic damage. If the damage dealt to that entity is greater than their WIS, that entity gains Paranoia.

Paranoia

An entity with Paranoia treats all other entities as enemies and no entities as allies for the purpose of effects that reference the allegiance of other entities. For example, an effect that states “All allies within 30 feet of you heal 30 HP” does not affect anyone because you do not treat any entity as an ally.

Additionally, an entity with Paranoia is never considered a willing target for any effect that requires one. Ongoing effects that require a willing target, such as Blessings, immediately end if the target becomes paranoid.

However, paranoid entities are not necessarily hostile to everyone. They may still be willing to fight alongside their comrades, but they are keenly suspicious, awaiting some inevitable betrayal.

Addendum: This second effect is not original to the wand and was grafted onto it by Boundless Night in a poorly thought-out attempt to enhance its effect. FYI: Forcefully weaving spells into a mysterious item of unknown origin that possesses quasi-deific powers is usually a big no-no. Before you ask, it’s not why she turned into a bug, but it sure didn’t help.

I stared at the wand for a minute before placing it back into my inventory in its own unoccupied chamber of the Closet, far from anything living or important. While item descriptions were often flavorful, it was rare that they included express System commentary. My boa and vest had some, but those were items specifically created to antagonize me. Not that it had worked. I loved those lurid treasures.

This was a warning to anyone who picked it up, not a joke. Sure, there was some creepy teasing, but on the whole, it was like the System leaned over, pushed my hand away from the wand, and whispered “Don’t.”

Even if I were willing to ignore the obvious portents of a nightmare-grade sack of awful, to my knowledge no one in the party met the ‘recommended’ requirements. Grotto might eventually satisfy the suggested levels of Wisdom and Spiritual Magic, but I had no idea where he stood with his advancement. Like Shog, I didn’t know how the System quantified the core’s abilities. I’d asked, but my familiar hadn’t wanted to share. Maybe he’d changed his mind with all the team building we’d done lately.

Even if the Delve Core could eventually use the wand, I wasn’t comfortable handing it off to him without talking to some experts about it. Preferably, the godly sort of experts. However, I doubted that even a divine green light would make me willing to let anyone in the party use the thing. I should probably give the wand the Chicago mafia treatment and drop it in a bucket of cement, sail to the middle of the ocean, and then throw it overboard. Adding in a masterwork warded lock box and a ritual of banishment on sanctified ground might also be a good move.

I provided Xim and Nuralie with a summary of the item and offered to share the System text. Nuralie swiftly refused. Xim was interested–bordering on manically enthusiastic–but the pensive silence that followed her review of the text didn’t seem like a good sign.

I added the investigation of the wand to The List, then took a deep breath and checked the timer for the next wave. We’d already gotten the notification that–as we’d feared–the countdown had once again been halved. Xim’s impromptu surgery on my abdomen had gotten me to about a third of my full health, but my regen would take me the rest of the way before we had to deal with more bugs. The same was true for my mana, but my stamina was going to be a bit low. The multi-month Delve was starting to strain our alchemical resources, so I was hesitant to take a potion.

After our post-battle recovery and loot review, we had about 90 minutes left. We needed to get started on resetting traps and potentially setting up some replacement barriers for the ones that had been destroyed. There was also the matter of my cuirass, which was about as whole as sliced bread. My arming doublet was also in tatters. They were both still in one piece–technically–but neither would offer as much protection as they had. The Verdantum armor was naturally self-repairing, but the process took time that we didn’t have. Nor did I have access to a smithy to make the repairs myself, not that I had any spare Verdantum. Even with all our prep, I wasn’t confident we could handle a 5-bug team if they were as balanced and coordinated as the last group.

However, before we could start making headway on prepping our arena, the ground began to shake. A deep rumble filled the room, and clods of dirt and sediment began falling around us. We got weapons ready and I waited for Nuralie’s assessment before I began channeling Explosion! The loson watched the southern wall intently, arrow tight against her bowstring. She began drawing it back, opening her mouth to speak but paused and furrowed her brow in confusion. She relaxed her draw, though she stayed in a low stance.

Before I could ask her for a report, the southern wall exploded, spraying the room with chunks of dirt and stone. A centipede-like creature sprawled out of it, bucking and kicking dozens of legs, its body wider than a cargo van. I was confused as to why Nuralie hadn’t called out a warning.

Then I saw that this bronco had a cowboy riding it.

My favorite man-eating murder machine was pressed down on top of the beast. Shog had all four of his swords planted into the monster’s body and gripped it with every tentacle he had. He rode it into the room, the creature rumbling with a growl so deep I could barely hear it.

The creature's mouth opened and a river of sewage-colored blood poured out of it, complete with an odor to match and a generous portion of unidentifiable chunks. There was a bright flash of metal that split the creature's head in two right down the middle. It was followed by 2 scorching rays that decapitated the giant centipede, sending the two halves of its mangled head splattering to the ground.

Etja floated out of the monster’s esophagus, covered head to toe in centipede fluids and looking none too happy about it. Varrin crawled out behind her, then removed his helm and wiped viscera from his eyes. He squinted, blinked a few times to clear his sight, then nodded when he saw me.

“Good,” he said. “We finally found everyone.”

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