Mage Tank

I thought to my familiar.
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The bodies of the Hounds began to wither and blacken as the Littans reviewed their reward notifications.
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I chewed that over, trying to figure out whether this was worth the risk to the Closet’s security. I wasn’t going to stop Grotto–I’d agreed a long time ago that he could run a Delve in the Closet–but that didn’t mean I couldn’t take precautions or ask for design concessions to mitigate threats. Getting an insider look at the spells and techniques of other Delvers was helpful, but I wasn’t a big fan of looting their corpses. Of course, I had no idea what kind of loot we were talking about.
Has
A few seconds passed, and a list appeared in my field of view. My eyes probably went wide, but my vision was entirely disconnected from them. I was looking at a full party’s worth of gear and then some. As I scrolled through, the Littans began to move on and into the main cave of The Pound.
Some of the items were upgrades for the party, but our gear was severely outdated aside from a few pieces of equipment each. We currently had Varrin shopping for us back in Hiward and we all had enough money for a full re-equip, so I was hesitant to ask Grotto to hand over any of the ill-gotten gains.
Delvers entered the Delves voluntarily and earned ample rewards while doing so. I’d mostly come to terms with the morality of Grotto operating one for that reason. Harvesting bodies myself for their resources felt like stepping over a fuzzy gray line into villainous behavior.
Once I began to have a strong personal incentive for other Delvers to die, would that encourage me to push for more lethal options inside the Pocket Delve? I didn’t think I would ever make that sort of decision consciously, but would Grotto? My own survival was directly connected to his, all the way down to the level of the soul. We had a Shared Fate, after all. It was probably best for me to keep as much separation as I could from the Delve.
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I thought back to the large harvester bots that had farmed poison essences in Grotto’s old Delve, and which had helped us fight the c’thon Ihxiobrixilas.
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I mentally frowned, but let Grotto’s mildly insensitive characterization pass since he made a valid point. Xim’s magic worked on Etja, allowing her to heal the mage, but our cleric still couldn’t regrow entire bodily structures.
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I refocused on the level 15 golds as they wandered through the massive artificial cavern, looking for what Grotto was talking about. When I’d fought with Tavio, the encounter had spilled into the Closet where the Littan handily dodged waves of Dimensional energy and tore through ankle-breaking pit traps with raw Strength.
Now, the air was filled with Dimensional ripples and the Littan group was moving slowly over the sharp, uneven terrain that threatened to snare, stab, or slice all but the most well-protected feet. Captain Pio and the spatial mage were struggling to follow Sgt. Guar, who stomped through with heavy enchanted boots, creating indentations for the others to step into. Lt. Madel hovered over the hostile floor, unbothered and flipping her dagger, cape fluttering in a breeze that I knew didn’t exist down there.
Occasionally, the spatial mage would gesture, and the group would turn to avoid an area of warped space that would have sliced or twisted limbs and armor alike. The room appeared wide open, but in actuality, it was a narrow path of razor-edged metal winding through a nearly invisible maze of deadly distortions.
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As though summoned by Grotto’s words–which, to be fair it probably was–a wave of spikes began to shoot up from the floor. It started at the entrance to the cavern and moved forward at a rate that wasn’t very fast by Delver standards, but several times quicker than the Littans were moving. If they didn’t pick up the pace, the party would be skewered.
The Littans responded swiftly and without any panic. The spatial mage, Sgt. Baltea hopped onto Sgt. Guar’s back while waving a hand at Captain Pio, who floated off the ground.
Baltae pointed the way forward, and Guar moved into a jog, stomping his feet hard enough to jump slightly with each step. Sgt. Baltae pulled Captain Pio along behind the others with Telekinesis, and her body lit up with energy. Everyone in the party glowed as Shielding wrapped them in a protective, skin-tight shell. I checked over Pio’s spell description, saw that it was a robust–but basic–Divine skill, and dismissed the notification.
The group ran into a few spatial tears as they rushed forward, eating through their Shielding and resulting in some light damage. The cavern narrowed and the safe path became even more winding and perilous until it terminated in a tight hallway. Just before the hallway, set into the cavern walls, were a series of large tablets covered in the writing of a half dozen languages. The party could only steal a glance at the tablets before being forced into the hall, barely making it in time to avoid the spikes.
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The hall itself had smooth walls and perfect geometry, clearly the product of intentional architecture rather than a seemingly natural formation like the caverns. The Littans took a break and collected themselves, with Guar setting Sgt. Baltae down and the spatial mage ending the Telekinesis that kept Captain Pio afloat. Captain Pio assessed their injuries as Sgt. Baltae sat and closed his eyes, looking like he was meditating.
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The hallway appeared safe and it looked like the Littans were trying to recover their resources through regeneration rather than through skills or potions.
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There was a long pause.
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I thought over the designation, wondering if it had gone past epic and into ‘just plain silly’ territory.
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Nah, it was right on target.
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A series of chevrons appeared in my vision, and I shifted my view to follow the indicated direction. The hallway was around a quarter mile long, and whatever Grotto had just highlighted for me was near the far end. I willed my perspective forward until the ceiling and walls became spotted with holes about the size of a sewer entrance, and realized that what I was looking for was above the ceiling. I shifted up into one of the holes and the chevrons turned into small orbs hovering in the air before me.
Nothing was visible, aside from the icons, until I focused with Soul-Sight on one of the orbs, and a creature was revealed.
The bulldog-sized creatures were two-thirds mouth and fangs, with the remainder dedicated to two thick arms ending in wide, flat fingertips, a pair of stubby legs, and a tail tipped by a sharp stinger. Unlike the previous version I’d encountered in my Creation Delve, these were sleeker and even more sinister looking. The light warped around their skin, allowing them to blend in perfectly in the dark corridor above the hallway. They crawled forward, taking swift, careful steps that were as silent as a passing cloud.
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I immediately had the System start appending random names, then identified one of the creatures and brought up its notifications.
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I swapped back to the Littans, seeing that Sgt. Baltae had stood from his meditation. The group was having a psychic conversation, but Baltae was a gestural speaker and his hands swept through the air as he mentally explained something to the group.
The Gekkogs descended from the holes and crawled along the ceiling and walls. Without my Soul-Sight they were little more than a slight distortion against the stone, and even knowing they were there I found my ‘eyes’ involuntarily sliding off of them. They closed to within 200 feet of the Littans without being discovered.
Sgt. Guar was facing down the hallway as his party discussed, shield up and facing the unexplored direction. His eyes continually scanned the hallway, refusing to get distracted by the chat. Because of the man’s massive frame, he blocked most of the cramped corridor, which is why he was the only one to become a pin cushion.
The tails of the Gekkogs whipped forward, and small portals appeared just ahead of their six-inch stingers. The stingers launched through the portals, reappearing an inch from Sgt. Guar. The hall was filled with a series of loud pops as the stingers broke the sound barrier and collided with Guar.
A few stingers landed on the man’s shield, but the Gekkogs were given ample time to aim and nine of the dozen projectiles thunked into his armor. There were small flashes of light when the first three landed, the stingers bouncing off and burying themselves deep into the wall from the ricochet. Another of the stingers burned what was left of the man’s Shielding and I saw his body pulse as some Blessed stacks were burned. Only 4 of the stingers punctured through his thick armor and buried themselves in the muscular Littan beneath, eliciting a stoic rasp from the man when one hit him dead center of the neck.
The rest of the Littan party began to respond. Captain Pio refreshed the party’s Shielding and Sgt. Baltae positioned himself directly behind Sgt. Guar.
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I eyed Guar’s armor. It was impossible to tell how much Physical DR the man had, but he’d clearly been hurt. He still couldn’t see his enemies, and more needles clinked off his shield, an occasional strike piercing his body. However, a quick bust of healing came from Captain Pio, and every needle that had disappeared into his flesh was pushed back out of the holes in his armor, clattering to the ground.
Then one of the Gekkogs lost its shit.
Just like with the Hounds, all of the Gekkogs rapidly gained stacks of Cursed. The Berserker started firing indiscriminately into its allies, who responded swiftly to deal with the traitor. Before they could recollect themselves, the Littan quartet rushed down the hallway. Sgt. Guar dropped to one knee and a swell of energy formed into a violet sphere before the spatial mage, Sgt. Baltae. It grew to the size of a bowling ball in under a second, then launched down the corridor. Another sphere immediately formed after, more than twice as fast, then fired behind its twin.
As the first orb hurtled forth, Gekkogs were torn from the walls and ceiling, sucked into a mass around the orb, and carried down the hallway. Those that resisted the effect were pulled in by the second orb, sending all dozen Gekkogs flailing down the hall in a pile of shorn flesh and snapping bone.
The first Gekkogs landed in a miserable clump 50 feet further down the hall and were then struck by the second orb as it deposited the smaller group of Gekkogs on top of them. None had been killed and were writhing as they tried to extricate themselves from one another, but Sgt. Guar was out for revenge.
The heavy-armor fighter launched forward, his shield held in front as a mighty gust of wind buffeted his back. Every loping step covered 20 feet as his shield caught the gust like a fucking kite and helped surge him toward the enemy. Electricity began to arc from his body, striking the walls and leaving blackened scorch marks behind.
Once he was only a few yards from the Gekkogs, he slammed his shield into the ground and the world went white as a dense network of lightning split the air, crackling out from the item. The bolts leapt between the Gekkogs, their muscles tensing and paralyzing them.
The attack only lasted a split second. Afterward, the Gekkogs were little more than a smoking pile of burnt tissue.
Guar’s body lit up with Divine energy as Captain Pio cast Cleanse on the tank, then lit up twice more as she threw Heals into him. The Gekkogs dealt decent Toxicity and Bleeding, but I hadn’t seen a single drop of blood leak out from Guar’s armor. He may have been immune to Bleeding–like myself–but he apparently wasn’t immune to poison. Either way, despite all his defenses he’d taken some decent damage. Of course, he’d eaten 12 sneak attacks to the face and hadn’t died. He was definitely robust.
The Littans paused again, having a psychic conversation and reviewing their combat notifications. Before they had time to rest, Grotto was back to antagonizing them. Twenty-foot sections of the hallway began to shrink in sequence, once again forcing the party forward.
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I hadn’t realized Grotto had been able to weaponize our ability to reshape the Closet quite so well. The walls moved inward like an iris closing, twisting on themselves and threatening to crush anyone who lingered. I doubted it would be enough to outright kill a Delver with decent Fortitude, but it would sure as hell get them stuck. More importantly, it kept the Littans from resting.
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I felt a wave of amusement pour through our connection.
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I refocused on the Littans, who moved at a jog to outpace the collapsing hallway. They’d been fairly judicious with their use of stamina and mana, but if this level of intensity kept up for 6 entire hours, well…
They better have good regen.