Damien Franklin

A flood of people rumbled down from the encampment and once again his research efforts were interrupted. The fury of the gathering made the rising irritation defuse in an instant. The obsidian thaumaturgist felt that perhaps he had missed something rather pertinent. Especially as the commotion was focused only a few feet away, right alongside where he was studying the dome.

“What’s that all about… we’ve barely scratched at the surface here,” asked Leon, still coming out of research daze. “They can’t be suddenly in a rush to go could they?”

“That is concerning change,” agreed Damien. “Come on, let us persuade them that it is too soon to venture inside. The reality distortions will rip us apart without proper protection.”

They hurried into the shifting crowd. Moving forward politely or insistently until arriving at the heart of the distress. Malachi was arguing with Warner, pointing sharply at the dome while the pugilist shook his head. Seeing his friends like this was disturbing.

This was breaking frighteningly far from the norm.

Damien put himself in the middle of it and asked, “What is wrong?”

“Julia and Harken went in there alone!” snarled Malachi. “We need to go in after them!”

Warner looked like he was about to comment, but the world went violet. Energy poured from the obsidian thaumaturgist as the thought of the two of them struck fear into the very heart of him. It stole his breath and froze his heart. The force of the outpouring pushed into the crowd with actual force. Had they not been packed close some might have gone further than just into the arms of their fellows.

“We must.”

“A fine thought, all dramatic and brave,” began Warner. “But a bullheaded move. We’re reacting emotionally here. Running in like this will just put more souls in danger. Might be they’ve got their shit sorted, not us though. Gotta figure somethin’ out first. Put together a plan on how not to get eaten up by what's inside there.”

“Aghh! I know, but I don’t like it,” growled Malachi. “When did you become the voice of reason?”

With a raised eyebrow the pugilist replied, “When you stopped being reasonable. Even the redhead is calmer than you.”

Clarissa’s eyes flickered to them before returning to the dome. She stood stiffly, hands straining on her bow. Her tone was cold and bitter, “Are we done panicking? Can we be productive now?”

Malachi blinked and nodded. A stillness settled over him. “Damien. Leon. Can you… did you figure anything out?”

“No,” admitted Damien, his violet aura quivered. He looked down with shame.

“It is a mystery several degrees beyond us,” explained Leon. “There are principles at work that are just…”

The leader of the Sixty leaped ahead and asked, “Alright. What sort of protection can we provide at the moment? Anything, no matter how temporary or ragged, I’ll take it. This will be in and out, we’re only going in for them. A rescue”

Damien looked at Leon, they shared an uncertain look.

“I have no idea how to defend against what is in there,” stated Leon bluntly when his fellow mage hesitated. “It’s ludicrous, simply outside my ability.”

“... Damien?”

He looked into Malachi’s pleading eyes and ached. Outside the battlemage was perfectly together, but those eyes ruptured with enough emotion that Damien felt it rock through him. The desperation sang. There was only one answer, one thing to do. These were his friends.

“I can take two people while still having room to take back Julia and Harken,” said the obsidian thaumaturgist. In his head, the calculation accelerated. The process kept hitting deadends before reevaluating over and over until something workable formed. Though the concept was a hastily created shamble, it was all Damien had. Time was up.

He would create a bubble with layers and fill the space in between with energy on the same frequency as the distortion. The effectiveness once in the dome was up in the air. It should at least buy them time by reducing the corrosion’s impact. If they hurried, the jaunt inside wouldn’t harm them too much. Damien hoped he would figure out how to let people in and out on the walk.

“Then it’s me and Malachi,” decided Clarissa.

Malachi didn’t dispute, just shrugged at Damien’s silent question. “Let’s get in there.”

The obsidian thaumaturgist drew from the Mana already saturating the air around him. A circle appeared at his feet and he beckoned the other two in. There would be just enough room for two more people to stand inside, or be carried. Symbols scoured the ground as a magical circle was imprinted. This was entirely experimental, everything that could improve their chances needed to be tried. A thrum began to run through the circle as the spell preparation came to the brink of activation.

A white glow crossed over the dome.

Everyone paused.

“What does that mean?” whispered Damien, frozen with his staff raised for the casting.

Clarissa and Malachi both spoke at the same time, “Doesn’t matter.”

“We still go in,” the redhead followed up as the battlemage said, “We need to go.”

Damien poured in his Mana as the spell started to take shape and it didn’t feel like enough. A flood was leached from him, almost uncontrollably. He held on dearly to some semblance of active participation. The Mana ran through the prepared circle as the obsidian thaumaturgist focused on not burning out or allowing his casting to go wild. This recklessness shot despair through him, but there was no way to stop now. Everything for his friends.

The first violet bubble snapped into place and the second followed quickly. Instead of a third, the energy focused on the space between. Friction built as Damien tried to do something he had never done before. Always he worked within the rules and limitations set by reality. It was a riddle to unravel. A game that gave him as much pleasure as casting spells did. What was being done in between was different, this was breaking.

He grinded at the fabric of space to crumple it, tear it, ruin it just a little. This was beyond the edge of his natural thought. It was not Damien’s nature to pass out of his comfort zone. Staying in bounds and within the rules was paramount to him. As close to sacred as the concept could ever make sense. For his friends, it was enough motivation to will himself forward and leap into the possibilities. Past limitations. O’ were the possibilities surging within as the obsidian thaumaturgist crossed old boundaries. A thousand new stars to explore, but there was a task at hand, and there was no time to be diverted. The new expanse could be cataloged later. Would be with great enthusiasm.

A cloudy space formed between the bubbles. The enclosing pressure would keep the effect from dissipating or healing away. Their field of vision was blurred though, but that was endurable for the protection wrought. Another bubble was built and the process of attacking reality began again. It went quicker this time as Damien was better at guiding his apparatus. Experience and observation always paid forward. That improvement meant he was able to stabilize things better. Settling on an equilibrium of four layers of distorted reality. The best they could hope for.

“That is the best I can do,” announced Damien. “The field will fail… eventually. When it does, we need to exit immediately.”

“Ok,” breathed Malachi while Clarissa acknowledged the warning with a nod. The obsidian thaumaturgist was fairly certain that neither would do so if Julia and Harken weren’t with them when it dropped. He began to make preparations to give them a choice as the three of them crept toward the dome. It was slow by necessity, too fast and the bubbles might fall out of sync. Each of them took a deep breath as the shield touched the dome. It was time to see if this haphazard defense would work.

Julia and Harken walked out of the dome just to the right of them.

They were blurry, but it was clearly them.

The two groups side-eyed each other with confusion.

Malachi and Clarissa jerked forward, but were befouled by the bubble. Due to the nature of the construct, it had to be hardened to maintain the reality distortions. Also to keep the ruptured fabric from tearing them apart. Slowly Damien deconstructed the bubble by relaxing the pressure and then removing the inner layers. Reality smoothed itself back to unvarnished clarity.

The moment he released a light grip on his two friends they leaped again. An awkward group hug with Julia at the center warmed his heart. Harken smiled down on them. The priestly man was unbothered by the exclusion and a second later was greeted by his own welcome party. Roseline slipped through the crowd to his side, their moment together was silent; charged though without physical touch. Damien stood with a relieved crowd.

I am glad going inside the dome was unnecessary, reflected the obsidian thaumaturgist. That protection spell was severely untested! I do not regret my decision to help my friends, but it is unsettling to go forward on so little hard data on its capability.

Pushing back the desire to begin those tests now, Damien broached the thought on everyone’s mind. “Why did you two go inside alone? That was reckless.”

Harken reflected on the crowd's sudden intensity and the group hug twitched in surprise. Malachi removed himself with a blush while Clarissa continued to lounge on the shieldmaiden. The leader of the Sixty straightened himself, threw the crowd a long look, and turned to the troublesome two. “Yes, please answer. Why would you do… something, something so irrational?”

Julia shrugged uncomfortably, but one glance at the crowd wrung the words out of her. “In the moment, Harken seemed so certain and… well I was pleased by the idea of taking this burden from you all. It was a matter of faith, I suppose you could say.”

Damien blinked, Faith? I do not understand. How did they survive? Believing you can is not enough! What did they do?”

However, Malachi didn’t push for that. The battlemage’s irritation flashed as he looked at Harken. “And why were you so certain?”

“I saw it,” smiled the priestly man. “I was drawn to the dome and it inspired in me a vision. Once Julia joined me the path was more certain, but in truth, I was prepared to go alone. A miracle to survive the distortions was asked for and granted. A prayer answered.”

A prayer? grimaced Damien. Disappointing. I could not learn much from that.

“Damn you,” growled the leader of the Sixty. “We don’t run off alone! We stick together and face the threats of The Pit together! Why were you so reckless?! Damn you… both.” There was a little heartbreak in the look Malachi and Julia shared on that last word.

Harken replied with sympathy, “No one can deny the strength in numbers, the power of quantity! But it is not a guarantee of safety. The miracle I was blessed with could not have protected us all. One more was the edge of my confidence. Had Julia not shown up when she did, I would not have even thought to take anyone along. My intent was to endure this trial for the Sixty myself, alone.”

“That isn’t how we do things! You rushed in and risked both of your lives unnecessarily! I just don’t understand why you couldn’t wait. Someone would have figured out something eventually.”

Julia shrugged off the redhead and stepped forward to take the battlemage’s hands. “Malachi, sweetheart. Harken did figure out a way. And it is done, the Gate is unlocked. Sometimes an army is needed and other times a few is all we need. Please have faith in us. Nor should you lock us into one strategy.”

Malachi sighed, “I’m not happy, but it is hard to argue against results, and the truth. Whatever your intentions, doing this without at least discussing it first was absurd. Can you both promise me to check in before doing something crazy? I don’t think anyone knew what to think.”

“I admit to getting carried away,” said Harken apologetically. “The euphoria of being granted the miracle may have clouded my judgment. The certainty of my success definitely did.”

“Yeah, sorry,” agreed Julia. “He can be strangely persuasive and I… guess I wanted to prove myself.”

“Did you?” popped in Clarissa.

“Yup! Kicked some serious slimy undead ass!”

“Nice!” cheered the redhead, then her demeanor turned dark. “Don’t do anything like this again! That wasn’t cool!”

“Uh um promise.”

“Good, now tell me the story so that I might know exactly how badass you are!”

The girls walked off into the dispersing crowd. Everyone had begun to head back to the hilltop encampment with the crisis resolved. Malachi didn’t look satisfied, but trailed after in thoughtful conversation with Harken. Damien wasn’t sure what to make of this event. The sudden panic and the quick resolution that only seemed to settle things. Surface deep at best. Even he could see that things had shifted. Though the manner and nature of that were beyond him to guess.

“Hey, with all that excitement, I’m done,” said Leon. “Not sure I’m the reverse-engineering type, anyways. Experiencing seems to be my style, even if it's infinitely more painful. Hmm, maybe Harken can give me some insight. Either way, I'm heading out. Coming?”

“No,” said Damien slowly. His thoughts were still scattered. “We will most likely head out tomorrow, so I will spend more time studying the dome. It is not an opportunity I wish to waste.”

“I get you, but I’m exhausted. See you later!”

“Goodbye.”

The obsidian thaumaturgist watched Leon leave for a bit and then turned back to the dome. He was alone again, both a comfort and somewhat a discomfort. Perfectly familiar though. Still thoughtful, Damien didn’t immediately go back to studying. His hand raised and a bubble formed between the fingers. Within, the space began to squirm and twist.

“What can I do with this?”

Reuben Frost

The next morning the Sixty headed out early. There had been no rush to depart, but no one felt particularly comfortable being near the dome. It exuded an unsettling atmosphere. Even within a tent and with closed eyes, the pressure was there. You could point at it blind. When the glare brightened in the morning, everyone was already awake despite the call for a late morning departure. No one argued when they left early. Putting the sealed destruction behind them resulted in widespread relief.

Reuben sprinted over the plains, scouting ahead. His students had taken distant positions on either side. All three of them moved through the shadowed dips and slipped unseen through the grass. Should danger present itself, they could slip back to the Sixty with a warning. The other option was to eliminate it should the threat prove small enough.

On the fourth floor, that meant the giant snakes. There was a distinct pleasure in ambushing a predator that was waiting to do the same. The constant focus on scouting resulted in an evolution in his Form that was perfect for spotting them. One aspect was that speed no longer diminished his stealth and the other was a visual enhancement. Movement and breaks in patterns now stuck out more. It felt like a program was running on his subconscious, taking all those little things it notices and making them more apparent. Like highlighting an area of grass that was disturbed in some way. With the new Form, it was impossible to miss that a snake hid there.

He shifted away, slowing to approach from the awkward overhang. The monster had taken a position on a smooth ramp that cut between two steep hills. An easy passage any traveling beast would take. Reuben closed with the ground, still moving forward, but slowly now. Hands wielding daggers as they brush grasses aside with each patient step. When saw his target, he held his breath. Through the golden grass, the yellow and white scales blended to invisibility until one approached within a few feet away. The scout observed the incidental coiling, hearing the soft brush of scale on scale. Narrowing down where the head lay in a few breathless seconds. His lungs began to burn with the pressure.

One glacial shift to gain a better position and then Reuben struck. A loud gasp to suck in air paired with his thrust, deep into the nearest bend of the snake’s body. One twist to release a gush of blood with his retreating arm. The monster’s head popped up. Black pits stared into his eyes before the fangs snapped forward. The blooded dagger raised in defense while the prepared hand swooped in. His dagger dug into the spine. It went limp.

The scout stood up to scan his surroundings. On the left, in the distance, Porsha raised a hand mid-loup. Francisco raised a blood-drenched arm on the right. He showed his bloodied dagger to the both of them. The bulk of the cores that they claimed on their own would stay with them. A tenth went to the whole and the rest would be split amongst them. The fourth floor wasn’t as rich as the second, but better than the empty pockets that was the third.

I wonder what the fifth floor will bring? Wondered Reuben as waited for the core to form. I suppose it’ll be a big one if it unlocks all those crafting stalls. He looked over the hills to the cave slotted in the side of the border wall. In a few days, they would find out.

Once the core was collectible, Reuben jogged through the last stretch of the floor. The three scouts came together at the foot of the last incline. Each eagerly showed their haul of cores, as often was the case Francisco showed a greater number than Reuben and Porsha. His stealthing was mediocre, but the man continued to show his edge in combat. Not to mention hunting down prey. Putting him on the wing meant even periphery threats were cleaned up.

Together they trudged up to the cave and checked to make sure the Gate looked unlocked. Just in case they could save the Sixty a bit of the march. They approached slowly until the words lit up and then the golden door rolled free. Beyond was the same hallway as before, but the scouts went no closer. None of them wanted to risk triggering Xavier before the rest arrived. Back outside the three of them went.

“Cleared,” grinned Reuben as they walked.

Porsha grinned back, “Party time!”

“I wonder what we’ll face next?” asked Francisco absently.

The scout shook his head. That was still a weekend away. A concern for another day.