Mage Tank

Grotto’s Delve had been pretty informative. Although I’d done plenty of research into Delving and had opportunities to train and speak with other Delvers through the Ravvenblaqs, I’d never seen how another group handled Delving firsthand.

In fact, seeing another group in action at all was extremely rare, barring tournaments and exhibitions. Even then, one never got a real look at a team’s capabilities. Just the things they were willing to put on display. Seeing how a talented group dealt with the challenges presented was extraordinary in some ways. It was an opportunity that most Delvers would leap at, whether out of a true desire for self-improvement or the chance to size up competition or steal tactics. If we were to sell tickets to this kind of thing, we’d probably be up to our eyeballs in chips.

However…

None of that was worth these motherlovin’ Littans having unrestricted access to my hotspring.

This wasn’t a public bath! It was my hot spring! Not the Delve’s hotspring! It was select. High-prestige. By invitation only. A hot spring reserved for the most elite and attractive Delvers, as judged by yours truly!

They hadn’t even gone through the entry pavilion to put away their dirty gear and have a quick rinse! They’d get the water all sweaty and gross. Were our filters even prepared to deal with oily fur? I had no idea! I didn’t want to find out, either.

Wait, did Littans sweat?

“Grotto. Your silence is not earning you any favor here.”

[I am remedying the issue.]

Sgt. Baltae closed the dimensional tunnel and his mimic ally took flight as soon as the group entered the hotspring. The core group of four stayed alert and cautious while the small bird did a lap around the spring, although Sgt. Guar was struggling to stay upright. His shield–and the arm it was attached to–was gone. Still, the man wasn’t losing any blood, so he was stable enough.

“Either you can start sharing the steps you’re taking or I’m gonna have to politely, yet forcefully, ask these guys to leave.”

[There is no reason to take such extreme measures. This is a common occurrence in Delve management, as no plan survives contact with Delvers. It is up to us to adapt to surprises and adjust our strategy accordingly, which I am doing. Please observe.]

A translucent rectangular prism appeared in my field of view, with two nested cuboidal areas outlined on either side of its interior. The area on the right side of the prism was outlined in violet, and it expanded in my vision, displaying a variety of rooms and pathways. I recognized it as my side of the Closet. A pulsing blue marker denoted the location of the Littans up against the far right edge of the region.

[Your space within the Closet is separated by as much distance as reasonably possible given the Closet’s current configuration.]

The view panned left, taking us through the body of the prism representing the Closet for a few miles until we were looking at a cube representing the Pocket Delve. Seeing everything outlined like this let me appreciate how much shit I’d crammed into my side by comparison. The Delve was not small, but it was only slightly larger than my space. Even so, both regions combined were only a fraction of the total volume available to us in the Closet.

Five sides of the Delve cube were green, although the sixth side–the one abutting the edge of the closet–was yellow.

[The Delve is guarded on all interior, Closet-facing sides by a portal barrier. If a Delver were to find a way to reach the outer edge of the Delve, they would simply be teleported back to its entrance when they make contact with the barrier. The only exception is the wall the Littans tunneled through. I saw no need to create a barrier on that side, since to my knowledge it was an impassable wall with literal nothingness beyond it. However, we have just discovered that the Pocket Closet is a self-contained spatial loop.]

To the left of the yellow side of the cube, a new cube appeared that displayed my personal space again. The view zoomed out until I was viewing the entire Closet, and new prisms began forming along each edge, creating a series of repeating blocks, each one a copy of the core Closet.

[This actually makes more sense than the wall being adjacent to oblivion. It also implies that this realm is entirely composed of the Closet and nothing else, which is preferable to us potentially sharing a domain with other entities. No matter what direction you travel, you will always loop back around to the opposite side of the Closet.]

“If this is more sensical than the nonsense you thought was sensible, why did you insensibly think the less sensical thing had more sensical-ness?”

A moment of silence was then held for the Hiwardian language.

[None of my attempts to penetrate the barrier on any side of the Closet had been successful, and no data was presented to indicate that this spatial loop existed. The barrier displays no variations in temperature, vibration, mana signature, or other factors that could not be accounted for by the elements within that area of the Closet. If something were on the other side of the barrier, there would be quantifiable associated phenomena.]

“Okay. When does this explanation start making me feel better about the stranger danger in my bath?”

[Creating a portal barrier within the Closet is fairly trivial when invoking System authority to manage the progress of Delvers. It does require a constant drain on our mana reserves, which is why I attempted to take advantage of the exterior walls of the Closet when designing the Delve.]

The image zoomed back in on the Littan group, and I noticed that the edges of the room containing the hotspring were now highlighted in green.

[I have erected portal barriers on all sides of the spring leading out to your personal areas, and the Littans are currently fully contained within that room. The only traversable exit is the wall that will return them to the Atrocidile chamber. Once they have re-entered the Delve, I will adjust the existing barriers to cover the ‘exterior’ wall of the Closet to ensure that future groups will be unable to take advantage of this loop to reach unintended locations. Spells such as Sgt. Baltae’s Worm Tunnel will be unable to penetrate through such a countermeasure.]

“Right. So, they can’t leave the hot spring to start pillaging my penthouse and dedicated inventory rooms, but that doesn’t change the fact that they are inside my hot spring.”

[Ah, yes. Unfortunately, there is little I can do about that at this juncture.]

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“You can’t just… teleport them back outside? Can’t you sling people around all willy-nilly in here? You’ve been doing all sorts of spatial shenanigans so far.”

[Given the unique environment of this dimensional space, that would normally be well within my capabilities. However, the System has decided that Baltae’s actions have earned the group an achievement and I am thus barred from interfering with this, er, unforeseen rest area.]

“They got an achievement for uncovering a mistake in your Delve design?”

[You would be surprised how many achievements originate from Delvers breaking a Delve Core’s meticulously crafted challenges.]

“No. I don’t think I would.” I had received more than one exasperated message from the System, flabbergasted by my non-traditional approaches. “Can I see the achievement?”

Grotto shared the message with me, which was written in Imperial. I was glad that I’d taken the time to learn the Littan language.

Somebody is probably pissed off right now because you are somewhere you are NOT supposed to be! This bathroom definitely had an “Employees Only” sign, but you all didn’t seem to give a shit. We guess that makes sense. Rumor has it that Littans don’t have much respect for other people’s personal space. Or borders…

Anyway, we’re not here to judge. We are, in fact, here to reward your flagrant disregard for the concept of private property while simultaneously teaching a pair of idjits that they need to learn how to install better locks! You have earned The Void King’s Water Closet achievement!

The Void King’s Water Closet: The Delve timer for The Inheritance of the Void King has been paused, granting your party a brief time to rest, recover, and figure out how you’re gonna kill that big lizard one room over. This pause will last for up to 2 hours and will resume the moment you leave the Water Closet.

Don’t overstay your welcome here, or somebody might come and teach you a lesson on the consequences of trespass.

“It’s not even my achievement and I still feel like I’m being criticized.”

You have earned the Yes, You are Being Criticized achievement!

Yes, You are Being Criticized: Read that achievement title one more time, because that is all this one is good for. Stay humble.

Before I could grumble any further, the fake bird returned and landed on the ground next to Captain Pio. The Littans shared a few looks, and Pio let out a heavy sigh.

“Very well,” said the captain. “We can all use a mental break from telepathy.”

“Praise the Godqueen,” said Guar. “Permission to pass out?”

“Denied,” said Pio. “But you are allowed to collapse.”

Guar’s hammer disappeared into his inventory, and the one-armed man fell flat on his back, letting out a long groan and closing his eyes. Sgt. Baltae sat down next to him, and Lt. Madel finally allowed her feet to touch the ground, removing her leather helm and mask to reveal dark fur and crimson eyes.

“This is a strange Delve,” said the formerly flying woman. “Why is this achievement written so… informally?”

“Informal?” said Guar, opening one eye to peek up at the Lieutenant. “I would describe it as… flippant.”

“Mocking,” Sgt. Baltae added. The spatial mage moved into the lotus position, beginning to take a series of measured breaths. “It insults not only us and our culture but also the unseen hand that manipulates this place.”

“What is an idjit?” asked Madel. I honestly had no idea how the System had translated that colloquialism into Imperial, but it had somehow done so.

“Perhaps it is a race of people,” said Captain Pio. “One that works with the System to operate the Delves.”

“It is more likely an insult,” said Baltae, still maintaining his breathing rhythm. “Given the context, I expect it is a play on the word ‘idiot’.”

“The System is insulting its own people?” asked Madel.

“Yes, that is what I said a moment ago,” answered Baltae. “It would seem the System is unhappy with the Delve Core, although the language implies there are at least two entities deserving of critique.” Madel frowned, but the spatial mage’s tone wasn’t one of rebuke. More like he was a teacher who was used to having to explain a concept multiple times.

“We can address our theories in a moment,” said Captain Pio. “The achievement says we have two hours to recover. Give me a report on resource recovery given that timeline. Guar?”

The party’s tank shifted, raising his stump into the air. It had been torn off at the socket, so really it was more like he was thrusting one shoulder forward.

“My arm will grow back, Captain, but with regen alone, I will be short of full health by 300 points. I will have enough stamina for a difficult fight, but will still be missing 130 or so.”

“Even accounting for the potion?” asked Pio.

“Yes, Captain.”

“How is your backup shield?”

“Serviceable, but my spare has a lower block value by 30.”

“Hmm,” hummed Pio. “If there is time, we will dissect the Atrocidile after we kill it to get your old one back.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

Pio turned to the spatial mage, who appeared to be in deep meditation.

“Staff Sergeant?”

“I have barely used Mindfulness, so my mana will be back to full, Captain,” Baltae said, eyes still closed. “I apologize for my uselessness in the battle. I did not expect Mana Barrier to be such a significant drain, or I would have recovered more before exiting the maze.”

“You followed standards,” said Pio. “Mindfulness is reserved for situations where your mana is below 40 percent. It had not dropped below that threshold by the time we left the maze. None of us expected the next chamber to be so deadly. Although I think we all realize this Delve asks more of us than any other we have encountered.”

“Yes, Captain,” said Baltae. “Because of your healing, my health will also be full, as will my stamina.”

“Good,” said Pio. She turned to the caped Littan, who was once again flipping a knife in her hand. “Lieutenant Madel?”

“I will be at 75 percent health, Captain. Around 200 short. Stamina and mana will be topped off.”

“Specialist Cezil?” Captain Pio asked, looking down at the bird. It chirped at her, and the captain raised an eyebrow, unamused.

The bird’s body deformed and its feathers began to transition to dark fur. It swelled in size, and over the next minute gradually transformed into a Littan woman. She was nude, but quickly pulled out a loose tunic that she pulled on over her head. It hung down to mid-thigh, and the Littan made no effort to don anything else.

Like Madel, Cezil the Littan mimic had striking red eyes. It wasn’t uncommon among Littans, but the woman also had fur the exact shade of brown as Madel, so dark it was nearly black. In fact, when I looked at the two closely, Cezil looked identical to Madel.

“Do Cezil and Madel look the exact same to you?” I asked Grotto.

I was willing to admit I might not have the best eye for telling anthropomorphic mouse people apart from one another, but so far it hadn’t been a problem. Not that I was on a first-name basis with many Littans.

[Yes. They appear to be identical twins, although I wonder whether this is merely another assumed form.]

Specialist Cezil gave the captain a sharp salute that was so perfect it felt sarcastic. When she spoke, her voice was the same pitch as Madel’s, though she had a different cadence.

“Health is full up, Captain. Not a scratch on me,” said Cezil. “Stamina will be good to go in 2 hours. I used a lot of mana, though.” Cezil squinted at her screens. “Gosh, I’ll still be below 50 percent. I’ll need another 220 to be tip top.” She clasped her hands in front of her and fluttered her eyelashes at the captain. “Maybe I can get a potion, Cap?”

Pio’s frown deepened, but she produced a mana potion and tossed it to Cezil. The specialist smiled broadly and tossed it back like a shot of whiskey, licking her lips afterward.

“I already have a mana pot going,” said Pio. “All my pools will be full with a 40 mana surplus.” After saying this, she pointed at Guar, then Cezil, granting them both a Heal. Pio then popped a couple of AoE buffs, refreshing their Shielding and Blessed stacks. “Next, we will discuss what we learned.”

“I learned I do not enjoy being eaten very much,” said Guar. “What I hope to learn next, is how Atrocidile tastes.”

“Like revenge, I imagine,” quipped Cezil.

More than one stomach growled after that statement.

“Belay my previous order,” said Captain Pio. “Instead, we will have lunch.”

Over the next thirty minutes, I discovered the raw, untapped potential of the Cooking intrinsic.

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