Terra Scorpion ; Scorpiones terrastea-Denizen of the underneath, like its moniker. Nonetheless, despite its predisposition to living beneath Eryth, it still inspires terror aboveground with equal measure. Miners report the most number of encounters from this creature, especially its offspring who live closer to the surface. The smallest specimens are about the length of a man’s foot while the largest ever documented grew to be twice the height of a grown man. Their poison is rumored to slowly turn your skin into stone from Philiarz Warnerskemander’s Bestiary for Adventurers: ‘Exotic Beasties and Where To Find Them.’

Arthur rattled the door knocker, hoping against his better judgment that the Lalilabs had not already left with the crowds of would-be refugees. ‘Not if I can help it’ Arthur resolved. The youth felt the weight of an entire town on his back. Entire livelihoods and families uprooted because of his frivolities left a sour taste on his mouth.

While going around the town’s people through the backstreets he’d seen the crying children, the helpless mothers and fathers worn down and barely keeping things together.

The streets were clogged with numerous centaur driven carriages, llimu and human rickshaws and carts, and other draught bovine animals. It was pandemonium despite bringing the full might of the Guard and its recruits to bear.

Even though they were mere glimpses caught between the alleys as he zoomed past on his Azure Surfer, [Eidetic Memory] made sure that the recollections of the towner’s plight was clear as day.

No sooner had he snapped himself out of his somber cogitation than the door opened inwards, to reveal the Lalilabs’ Butler. He had a rapier on hand and looked just about to run him through. Arthur hastily pulled back the hood from his face and the Butler relaxed.

“ Master Arthur,” the Butler gave him a nod. Arthur nodded back, still catching his breath from his flight to the Lalilab’s mansion. The Butler looked at the gate which had remained undisturbed. He frowned slightly but his face returned to its impassiveness.

“ What can I do for you? These are grave circumstances and it bid me welcome you into the house. There are nasty sorts about the chaos,” he said with a detached voice as his eyes scanned the vicinity.

The man was barely fazed by the din of townspeople clamoring as they passed via Founder’s Street. Arthur had flown over the fence on the other side, so he was sure nobody had seen him. Arthur agreed with the man however, and stepped into the house, taking care not to trail mud through the parquetted floors.

“ If you’re here that means…” Arthur remarked. The house was unremarkably quiet. He noticed that the paintings of the Lalilabs’ previous generation predecessor had been taken down, the carpet too was nowhere to be found and neither was the pygmy tree in its place.

“ Yes,” the Butler replied. “ The masters and mistresses are safely within. We have arrangements for…sudden eventualities you see.”

“ I think…I need Mister Edel’s help, to put a stop to this.” Arthur said. He placed his words delicately, unsure of how the Butler would receive it. To his surprise, he barely reacted, instead expediting their stroll along the hallway, while saying, “ Then we must see the Master post haste.”

It was three basement floors later that the two men finally came to a room with a door that Arthur had only seen in a bank vault. It had studded bracing and was made of a dark metal that was no doubt enchanted as his mana sense made it known.

With a patterned knock, the Butler got the heavy door to open seemingly of its own accord; several voices rose up at his entrance most of all, Edel and Hanna’s. It was a safe room made from solid metal. It had to have cost a fortune.

“ Arthur, “ Edel clasped his hand in a firm handshake. “I knew you were one tough bastard.”

“ Dad…” Hanna gasped. The Lalilabs’s other members including some private guards in enchanted gear and other members of the house's staff.

“ Dearie, language!” Odessa Lalilab chastened her husband. Edel flushed.

“ Ah, thanks for the confidence I guess? I am lucky to be alive,” Arthur said, flustered. “ But we don’t have much time…” he hastily added.

“ How come? Surely we do not need to evacuate, do we?” It was Odessa who spoke. “Was the dungeon break that bad?”

“ No, that’s not it, Lady Lalilab,” Arthur said, astonished. There was a dissonance between the danger outside and the level of caution he was seeing in the supposed safe room. He didn't know how to break it to them, really. Edel prompted him to go on.

“We're talking about a deep wurm,”

“Blu dear, you're the [Monstrologist] aren't you? ” Edel looked at his other daughter who had a scholarly air like him. She seemed to have taken after her father.

“A moment,” she said, materializing a tome as if from nowhere. He realized that she had holding enchantments one is would find on a storage artifact sewn into her dress pockets. ‘ Huh?!’ But Arthur had no time to debate fashion choices as the girl started dishing out details of the monster. The first few sentences were said with uncanny detachment, but after what Arthur assumed was the first paragraph, she seemed to hesitate.

“ How bad is it ?” Edel asked the unspoken. The young woman swallowed, moistening her lips, she nudged her round framed glasses, as the eldest of the Lalilab’s heirs, Brion came forth to reassure her. Everyone waited with bated breaths.

“ Deep Wurm species, threat level is assumed indeterminate, estimates peg it as a disaster class creature. Number of encounters documented in known history are five, most of them juvenile.

Has been known to boast outstanding resilience against offensive magic of fire due to its hide, lightning has been known to immobilize or otherwise incapacitate but is not guaranteed as a sure kill.

Deep wurms are considered disaster class because the oil they exude has been known to taint the soil and water sources and the land takes to recover. Said oil is also highly flammable.” she stopped.

‘What the hell? Is that a living oil tanker?’ Arthur left unsaid. His countenance was grim as he considered the implications of pollution on the surrounding land. He was not sure if a spell like [Cleanse] could get rid of it.

“ They didn't announce it because it would have induced mass panic and made evacuation difficult ,” Hanna mumbled, eyes wide.

“ Dearie, what should we do?” the man of the house said to his wife. Odessa Lalilab was truly the iron lady of the house so it seemed.

“ I think you should listen to him,” Odessa remarked with pursed lips. “He risked his life to get to us just so he could warn us and he seems to have a plan.”

“ Well, you heard the Lady,” Edel smiled weakly.

“ We’re going to need your lab,” Arthur said in relief. “ Assuming your things are still there,”

Edel patted him on the shoulder, as the Butler went to get the vault door, “ Let’s talk while we walk.”

“ Dear! Stay safe…” Odessa called out as the heavy door closed with a sigh behind them. Double time, they run up the stairs, the [Alchemist] keeping up despite his predisposition to indoor activities.

Luckily, it was only on the first level of the basement and they made it under a par’quart. The [Alchemist]’s workshop was still as he had left it; despite the tremors that preceded the emergence of the deep wurm, none of his articles had seen any damage. Arthur immediately honed in on another vault door which stored the synthesized pyrtherite canisters.

“ Do you, by any chance have actual Pyrtherite crystals Mister Edel?” they were three of them with the Butler having shadowed his master as a precaution. Edel raised a brow,” I have a few crystals yes,” he walked to the vault. Medieval or whichever fantasy it was, Eryth did not lack for some of the modern conveniences. The vault was without a doubt, dwarven made even he didn't need [Appraisal] to see that.

“ What do we need it for?” Edel turned around as the vault opened. The Butler helped hold the entrance open.

“ We’re building a weapon,” Arthur said. Edel seemed to be struggling with the ethics of weapon creation, most of all helping in it. He had an aversion to such proclivities unlike some other Alchemists in the profession. Finally he deflated and murmured, “ I will acquiesce because the situation is so dire as to warrant it.” However, he narrowed his eyes immediately after and added, “I trust that we shall never be forced to stoop so low ever again.”

“ Believe me, I am of the same opinion as you, but this has to be done,” Arthur commented. Edel motioned the Butler to get the pyrtherite crystals. They were in their own containment. A generously sized cube that required both hands to carry to the worktable. It was made of a null steel so dark he almost believed it to be another metal were it not for [Appraisal].

“The reason why we regulate pytherite is not because of its sole devastation. Did you know, the pytherite that is used is not even nine parts pure?” Edel said almost as if talking to himself as he stared at the box. “ Pyrtherite is volatile because of its ability resonate with nearby crystals of the same origin. You can imagine how devastating it is to have a mere room full of the stuff.” he added. “ It has been known to level a whole town.”

“Then you should be stopping me,” Arthur shrugged indifferently.

“You've already resolved yourself, ” Edel sighed. ”But you do not have the look of someone who is ready to die. It would be a tragedy to lose a man of your caliber”

”Let's get started,” Arthur said. He cast his eyes about the workspace then he materialized his hoverboard.

” Arthur,” Edel scrunched his brow in confusion. “What might that be?”

“Ah, you didn't see this one,” Arthur came to a realization. The only other person whom he'd demonstrated the artifact's ability to fly was Orhill. “ This is the delivery system. Or how else do you expect me to detonate the pyrtherite from a safe distance? Like you said, I'm not looking to die.” Arthur added. He patted the Azure Surfer fondly.

It had been his companion from the very start; his first flying craft. Arthur really couldn't help getting sentimental, but he supposed it could be replaced. The lives of people could not.

“Let's do this, ” he said, voice almost breaking with emotion.

Dasnoir the Blackbeard stood on the battlements as he watched the Ikaros pirouette around the Deep wurm like a tenacious shroom gnat. The adventurers had left, and only the guild master stood behind him, watching warily for another barrage from the monster with a barrier spell at hand, but not deployed.

Even from here, he could still hear the hubbub of the noisy towners, the sounds of distressed draught animals, the shouts of guardsmen as they directed the throng towards the North gate. He observed the going ons with a detached mind however, as his thoughts were somewhere else.

Not on the safety of his aership; his son was a far better helmsman than he, especially after an encounter with a terra scorpion that saw him lose his hand. By the time the healers had gotten to him, he had to amputate it at the wrist.

The agony of his skin slowly petrifying into graystone made him grimace as he saw the younger specimens down on the killing field, frozen or burnt to crisp. As for the mechanical gauntlet, it still had some getting used to.

Besides that fact though, he'd already inscribed [Message] matrices on it—the creation of casting aids was a novelty of dwarven runecraft still. That did not hold up to what his mind was caught on; a black adamantine dagger.

According to his [ Deep Appraisal] , that it was old was an understatement. And the runecraft on the thing! What he would give to learn the secrets of adaptable enchantments . The boy who had it barely had any inkling of the power of that weapon. Sure it could cut through steel if you wanted but that was barely there. A dagger that grew with its wielder's wielder's ability was a good find.

Perhaps that would have been all, but the sprog also had a few more artifacts of interest obfuscated heavily. One was his cloak and another, an indiscernible oblong object that made his inspection attempts hurt. His [Deep Appraisal] had been rebuffed.

He'd only encountered sylvani artifacts with that level of obfuscation. Did he have ties to them? Why was he fighting the [Guard Sergeant]?. He himself was also shielded from his [Analyze], only showing up as an [Aeromancer], which was well and good but his aura was something else.

The boy was a walking enigma. That he also sent a [Message] after parting with the dragonkin and disappearing into thin air interested the old dwarf; he had to know.

He turned his attention back to the deep wurm. Such a dumb hulk, driven only by its desire to eat. So many small brains it would take forever just to get them all.

Were that the only problem, they would have shot with a fusillade of pyrtherite runeheads but [Piercing Shots] barely scratched it. The damn monster had to have chitin as thick as five stout dwarves. Mithril tipped ballistas were not worth the return on costs either.

It was such a pity, Aldmoor was such a nice town . They could always rebuild it of course. And who better to turn to but the dwarves? They had the best [ Stone Shapers] ,[ Masons] and [ Enchanter Architects] ; they could always restore the town or upgrade it—for some coin.

Dasnoir stroked his beard, grimacing that he’d forgotten to oil the thing. The rain would soak it through. The dwarf turned his attention to the walls beneath his steel soled boots.The defensive wards on the walls had to be so old, they were in danger of shorting out. For him, though, he could try keeping the damage to a minimum. Too much was bad for business.

An incoming [Message] niggled at his preconscious psyche, manifesting as a throb on the bridge of his brow. He raised his gauntlet to his temple and felt the spell matrix for [Message] form.

"Father, [Urgent Message] from the Port; it's the unidentified flier .” 'Hoh? Interesting' Dasnoir thought. Ordinarily he would have received the [Message] himself, but with the mana storm rolling in, whoever was manning the port tower had to route the spell through the [Message] steles on the ship. Those cost him several crowns to install.

‘The unknown flier was spotted two and a half months ago so why now? “[Message]...” Dasnoir ventured. ”Pass it through,” and the [Message] was passed to him. It was indeed marked urgent. Dasnoir frowned. What could have gotten Lezbahn so flustered?

The ascent was turbulent, so much that the synth wished inertial dampening was not merely a scifi concept. But hey, surely a magical world had its own equivalent right? She just had to find the right matrices for it .

‘Or fractals’ she grimaced, recalling her stumbling upon the smaller building blocks of spells; they were like the quarks to subatomic particles. Insofar as she knew, the matrix was just the upper bound of what was humanly possible to work with…maybe. Nonetheless, her perspectives of the world were also coloured by the preconceptions of Arthur's world; her father's world.

‘Ah, thinking too much of Papa's films,' she scowled, gritting her teeth against the rocking motion. As for the other occupants buckled up in the passenger compartment, they had to be bearing the brunt of it. Arcis was sure that at least one of them would get motion sick. She grimaced; she couldn't blame them for their squishiness.

As her internal clock measured lapsed time, and another part of her mind approximated distance, she also checked on the instrument panel. The steam gauge looked okay; she had to watch pressure levels to see if the heat exchanger was handling its tolerances.

If it was within range then the cooling enchantments were working. They too had their own thaumometer that displayed the level of mana attuned to nivalis, the affinity of ice derivative of aqer; that too was holding steady.

The other thaumometer was measuring the mana throughput channeled through the main engine; she could calculate engine efficiency later or barring that recalibrate it as she saw fit. Direction and orientation were easy; she didn't need them however, as her spatial awareness was sharper. She could literally fly a 50 mesurs ahead of her with her eyes closed.

By all standards, the ship lacked its bells and whistles hence the sparse dash. She already had so many ideas of what to add onto the instrument panel. Turning her eyes to the wind screen, the bow pitched with every thaum of mana churned to give lift. The Stormbreaker cut along the surface of the river like a skiff. Ailerons swivelled downwards as the upthrust increased.

Behind, river water parted , frothing in the ship's wake as the slipstream swirled around the Stormbreaker's aerodynamic body. Then it crossed the cavern’s threshold, leaving the subterranean river as it splashed into the Rift below in a waterfall that obscured the air around it. Arcis turned to the yoke, arms steady despite the rattling motion .

Her view of the port bustle in the drizzle was a mere glimpse. The synth barely even heard the shouts of alarm at the strange craft whizzing past the Port of Riftedge. Neither did she see the looks of incredulity as people stopped to point and at the Stormbreaker as it banked impossibly in a parabolic trajectory.

Arcis only had eyes for the ostentatious port tower sticking out in the drizzle; she had a mischievous grin splitting her face cheek to cheek.

‘Let's buzz the tower shall we?’ She mused taking the Stormbreaker for a streak past the structure with a measly handspan of wiggle room.

Arcis could almost imagine the sole occupant quail as she whizzed by. Port tower put behind her, she pulled back the steering yoke raising the bow to the cloudcast skies. The turbulence abated as the Stormbreaker leveled out.

“We're good, ”she called out. “You can come out now.” ‘Yep, another item to the todo list, internal address and surveillance system’ she noted. She hoped her father would allow it, surely he wouldn't refuse right?

‘I know we're nowhere close like that yet’ she mulled as the sound of footsteps echoed from behind her. So caught up in her musings she was that she missed the tailend of what was a [Message] sent towards the direction she was heading. “Gah, schizzes! I missed it,”

”Who were you talking to?” croaked a greenish looking Nevine.

“No one in particular,” Arcis said as she looked at him from the corner of her eyes. ”I think I sensed someone send a message from the Port”

”Huh?” Nevine gawked,” you can do that too? Of course you can do that.”

Arcis nodded as she turned her attention to their flight.

The freckled boy was holding his stomach and definitely looked ready to hurl as he held another to his mouth. His eyes were, however, wide with wonder as he caught a view of the low clouds streaking past. Faraway still, the sound of thunder boomed as magical lightning illuminated the cockpit, glare blunted by the obsiderite.

Arcis frowned; the mana storm was slowly encroaching on the storm cell. She debated whether to fly over or under it.

”So how do we do it?” Elena asked once all of them had assembled around the sole seat in the cockpit. Umbra was nowhere to be seen. Ever the elusive one she probably hated the storm and rough movement and might have gone to find some dark nook in the ship to curl up and sleep.

Everyone's gaze, except for the one at the helm turned to the dhampir. Of all of them, it seemed implicit that she was the leader of sorts. Nora paused, eyeing the brumous sky.

“Arcis, can you reach your father?” Nora suggested. ”And directly?” she added, chewing on her lip.

“Mmh,” Arcis maffled. ”I can, if we fly below the storm. I can't get a link to Papa's Psiphone through it like this though.”

“Sai-fon?” Nevine asked owlishly. “What's that...another strange artifact?”

Nobody volunteered an answer as they tried to catch sight of where they were heading. The clouds were too thick to espy the road to Aldmoor. However Arcis did tell them they were right above it.

Arcis added another comment,” But Papa's last position had to have been the wall where he'd been fighting. That means the first time he sent a [Message] he'd already encountered the dwarven aership.”

“We have to find another way around that area if we want to reach the Lalilabs,” Nora contemplated. She had one hand on her chin and another folded across her bosom. She turned to the left,“ flying the long way round will put us directly into the mana storm, can you fly that way Arcis?”

”You bet I can,” Arcis chimed. “ They'll never know where to look for us, unless they're also gutsy to follow us in.” So saying, Arcis gently dipped the bow beneath the low hanging clouds. No sooner had she done that than [Scan] started to scream back at her. They were almost bow to wall with the town; visibility had dropped to almost nothing. Everyone’s eyes went wide with horror as a barbican with a half open gate appeared in the mists.

“““ Arcis!”””

“ I see it!” Arcis yelled. She pulled back on the yoke, tipping back the bow and stepped on the pedal to the ventral thrusters all the while flipping the lever to the air brakes. The ship went skimming over the walls, eliciting a loud screech as ironwood keel met enchanted brick.

“ Whoops,” Arcis winced.

The rest of the group was pale.

Creating the equivalent of a short range cruise missile was more trouble than it was worth; Arthur had the sweat on his brow to show for that. Handling of pure pytherite was risky business. Unlike the one he’d handled willy-nilly without knowing the ramifications of the casual regard for the crystal, these ones were potent.

The one he’d used in his first engine that went up in a blaze of so not-glory had degraded, losing some of its kick, Arthur realized. Arthur shuddered, but he stilled his hands as he maneuvered the last component of the Pyrtherite onto the trigger housing.

Rather rudimentary in design because they only had a few things at hand, the fuse consisted of a spring loaded mechanism, holding back a pointy flint stone. The detonator was a small shard of pure pytherite held perpendicular to the needle.

All it would do to start the reaction was to have the spring loaded mechanism jarred by a force so hard it split the crystal in the middle; and the pytherite was not that fragile. It was just that, it took pinpoint blows to crack the tiniest sliver of the crystal and the integrity of the latticework would be compromised. So in essence, it was just hard and brittle.

The best comparison would be to imagine a stable pyrtherite crystal as a stable isotope; actually that was oversimplifying it. A typical mana crystal always had its energy flowing around its lattice like a complete circuit; for Pytherite, somehow the affinity was so sensitive that a small break in its flow would cause a cascade of mana to build up. It was akin to a short circuit frying up all the lights on a parallel connection; that was the best analogy Arthur could find.

As the Butler dabbed away the rest of the sweat on Arthur’s brow; the youth himself rather embarrassed about the action, he sighed. Edel carefully maneuvered the cover onto the nose cone section and then it was done.

The three men stood back and looked at the creation. Two had inscrutable expressions, one was rather remorseful about unleashing such a thing; hopefully it would be the last one of its kind—he crossed his fingers. There was no need to jinx it.

While the detonator was the pure pytherite crystal, the main warhead was several cobbled together canisters of the synthesized stuff; as pure as Edel could get them. Which meant they fell in the range of 65 to 75 percent. Getting above that was still hopelessly hard.

It had an independent mana source, an aertherite crystal which would only be fuel to the explosion as soon as it hit its target. The end result was as close as the Azure Surfer could get to a military drone without wings. It had no guidance system, someone would have to do it still. For that, he needed the others for the other part of the plan and it seemed, the time was nigh. The Psiphone chimed—