You stare out at a vast cavern. On its far side, a pair of massive humanoid statues wearing hooded cloaks flank a portal framed by wooden beams and filled with a fiery glow that illuminates the chamber with its golden light. The portal stands at the end of an elevated bridge supported by stone columns. A track runs along the bridge, and carts filled with golden, glowing crystals exit the portal and roll along it. The rickety clatter of their wheels echoes dully.
Other elevated walkways and platforms crisscross the cavern. Several dozen scavo scurry along them or toil at workbenches, mixing elixirs, hammering at strange contraptions, and waving their hands and incanting spells. They are all dressed in silver robes emblazoned with runes like Ataka’s. His technomancer compatriots, you surmise.
Thick roots weave their way across the ceiling and down the walls. They frame the mouth of the tunnel in which you stand. One of the elevated stone walkways abuts the tunnel. You frown down at it. It’s worn, cracked, and pitted. It looks to be about a million years old. Far below, much too far, the floor of the cavern is nearly lost in shadow, but you can make out a littering of jagged rocks and fallen pil lars. It’s a long way down.
You hesitate and take a tentative step onto the walkway. When it doesn’t crumble away beneath you and send you tumbling to your doom, you take another step. Still it holds. You exhale loudly and sigh in relief.
“Hey, there’s an intruder! Over there! Intruder!”
A rune-robed scavo on a nearby platform is pointing at you and hopping from foot to foot. Heads turn. Elixirs are raised. Contraptions are wielded. Spells are readied.
You shake your head and raise your hands defensively. “I’m a friend of Ataka’s!” you call out. “I’m here to help.”
The scavo stare at you. No one says anything. But they don’t toss any elixirs, fire any contraptions, or cast any spells at you either, which you take as a good sign.
One of the mole-like creatures weaves its way toward you across the walkways and platforms. It’s stooped and walks with a limp. As it approaches, you see that its skin is deeply wrinkled. It stops before you and frowns.
“Where is Ataka?” it asks.
You shift your weight and bow your head. “Ataka fell to the Chaos Legion. I’m sorry.”
The ancient scavo grunts. “A good death, I’m sure.”
You picture the bubbling pile of goo that was all that was left of Ataka. Probably best not to go into details.
The scavo introduces itself as Velesh. “And you wish to aid us?” it asks.
“Ataka told me about the Obelisk Shield.”
“How much do you know?”
You shrug. “That it can close the rift between worlds. If that will stop more Chaos Legion goons from pouring into the Splinterlands, it’s good enough for me.”
“Unfortunately, it won’t be easy.” Velesh turns and limps off down the walkway. You keep pace beside the gnarled scavo, careful not to stray too close to the edge. The other technomancers return to their elixirs and contraptions and spells.
“The Obelisk Shield was built long ago,” Velesh says. “Long before even the age of myths and legends. Countless kingdoms and empires have risen and fallen since. Mountains have crumbled and new ones have risen to take their place. Young gods have grown old. Yet the obelisks remain.”
Your gaze turns to the pair of hooded statues standing sentinel on either side of the golden portal. “Did they build this place?” you ask.
Velesh grunts in acknowledgement. “Our forebearers found their tomes sealed within a vault. The pages were brittle and crumbled to the touch. For generations we have studied them, piecing their history together. They called themselves the Riftwatchers, and they built the Obelisk Shield to keep our world safe from outside forces.
“But when the Splintering occurred, it fractured the Shield, and its protective barrier fell. The Riftwatchers opened a rift and ventured through it to discover the source of the power that tore our world apart.”
“What did they find?” you ask.
“We know not. We only know they never returned.”
“But you can fix it,” you say, and when Velesh doesn’t respond, you place a hand on the scavo’s shoulder. “You can fix it, right?”
Velesh stops, turns to face you, and sighs. “Eight obelisks comprise the Shield. We have found but one.” The elder technomancer continues walking, and you hurry to catch up.
“Little use is one obelisk,” he says. “Little use is any of it without theurge conduits to complete the network.”
You remember what Ataka told you. “Those are the stones that connect to the obelisks, right?”
Velesh nods as the two of you make your way across another platform, where a young scavo technomancer is fiddling with a contraption that looks like either some kind of death-ray device or a milk frother. “The theurge conduits form a network of mana that amplifies the nature of magic, shielding the Splinterlands and keeping the rifts sealed.”
Your eyes widen. “Amplifies magic?” You pat the satchel at your hip. “My cards. Usually, they conjure nothing but illusions. But ever since I crashed on Praetoria, they’ve been real.”
“A battle mage, eh?” Velesh rubs his chin as he limps along. “Your illusions are a diffuse collection of mana, with form but without substance. But an empowered obelisk amplifies elemental magic. Within its vicinity, mana becomes more concentrated and potent. Thus illusion becomes reality.”
The two of you pass under the elevated bridge and the tracks. All around you, technomancers toil at their workbenches. Several give a brief nod in deference to Velesh but quickly return to their work. The elder scavo weaves his way along the walkways and platforms toward the far wall of the cavern.
You ask, “And once all the obelisks are turned on?”
“With enough theurge conduits connected to them—” Velesh sweeps his arms wide. “—elemental magic will be amplified everywhere.”
Gods. Your mind reels at the implications. “But Ataka told me the conduits are gone. You don’t have the components to make more.”
Ahead, the walkway you follow leads to a tunnel in the far wall. Velesh stops before it. “We’ve searched everywhere,” he says. “Everywhere but here.”
You squint into the tunnel. Nothing but blackness.
“We’ve tried, of course. But those who ventured inside… all we’ve heard is the rending of flesh and the echoes of their anguished cries. None have returned.”
You take a step back. “Let’s not get too close then.”
But Velesh continues. “The ancient tomes describe the workings of the theurge conduits. They say they are sealed away for safekeeping. We believe they are at the end of this tunnel. But whatever wards and countermeasures the Riftwatchers developed to protect it, our technomancy is of no use against them. Too many of our kind have died trying. So we search elsewhere, but thus far, it has been in vain.”
“In vain is better than dead.” You don’t dare turn your back on the tunnel. At the same time, you don’t dare risk walking backward and off the edge of the walkway, so you stay where you are. “Why don’t we have a look somewhere else?”
Velesh doesn’t seem to hear. Or maybe he’s just ignoring you. “All have failed, but perhaps you…” he looks you up and down.
You gape at him. “No way.” You shake your head. “Not a fan of rending flesh and anguished cries. I’m a performer. An entertainer. I’m not one of your technomancers. I wouldn’t stand a chance.”
“But they didn’t have the cards of a battle mage.”
You glance down at your satchel. Into the pitch dark of the tunnel. Back to your satchel.
“Think of the glory. You’ll be a legend. The bards will sing tales of you, the Hero of the Splinterlands. Everyone will know your name.” Velesh sweeps a hand in a go-ahead gesture and flashes a sly, yellow-toothed smile of encouragement.
You picture it in your mind. The fame. The cheers of the roaring crowds. It’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of since you began training as a battle mage and stepped into the arena.
Before you can come to your senses and realize what a tremendously bad idea this is, you set your jaw, stride forward, and disappear into the darkness.
The stone of the floor, walls, and ceiling is jagged, rough, and damp. The tunnel slopes downward and curves to your right. You stop and glance over your shoulder. Velesh and a handful of other scavo stand at the mouth of the tunnel, silhouetted in a fiery, golden glow. The elder technomancer waves a hand, either wishing you luck or bidding you farewell. You’re not sure which.
You open your satchel and choose a card. You read the runes, and the incorporeal manifestation of a summoner shimmers into existence around you. It is dressed in an armored vest and a helm with long, curved horns. A cape billows behind it, and its hands glow with a celestial light. When you’re finished, the card drifts into the air and revolves in a slow circle above you.
Well, that’s new.
You draw three more cards and recite their runes. These, too, rise into the air and revolve. As you finish with each, motes of mana swirl in the air and coalesce into a trio of humanoid figures. The first is dressed in the armor of the Order of the Silver Shield and carries a longsword and massive shield. The second wears the robes of a priest. The third wields a pair of crossbows, and eagle-like wings are folded upon its back.
The Silver Shield soldier leads the way as your little retinue continues along the twisting and descending tunnel.
From around the next bend comes a flickering glow. You tense and direct your elemental manifestations forward, following close—but not too close—behind.
A flare of light. You round the corner. The Silver Shield soldier is tangled in a web of red-hot magma. A clutter of lava spiders descend from the walls and ceiling and scuttle along the web toward him. He raises his shield and swings his sword, keeping them at bay. The spiders shoot molten webs and fiery venom as the priest casts spells of healing, trying desperately to keep the soldier alive.
The winged arbalist aims a pair of crossbows and fires. Reloads. Fires. Again and again. The lava spiders screech. Bolts riddle their fat bodies. Fiery blood drips to the stone floor, sizzling and hissing. The bolts burst into flames.
The soldier hefts his massive shield, and the webs and venom bounce off it and slam into the lava spiders. One by one, they fall to the ground on their backs, legs folded in a mortal curl, until none remain.
Scattered beneath the webs are an assortment of bones and skulls, which explains the rending flesh and anguished cries. It wasn’t wards or countermeasures. The poor technomancers rounded the corner and got a faceful of molten webs and venom. Those that managed to flee were chased down and dragged back, their skin searing from their bodies.
The four cards spin silently above you as the Silver Shield soldier uses his blade to cut down the last of the lava spiders’ web, then you continue on.
Around the next bend, the tunnel ends at a steel door. It’s thick, and it’s sealed tight. The soldier kicks at it, then tries slamming his shield into it. Not so much as a dent. You back down the tunnel and draw another card. You read the runes, the card rises and spins above you, and a swirl of elemental mana coalesces into a wooly ram with a spiral of horns on either side of its head and another thick, blunt horn atop its forehead.
The ram snorts and charges down the tunnel, lowers its head, and slams into the door with a tremendous, metallic boom. The door shudders in its frame. Rock and dirt sift down from the ceiling. The ram takes a dozen steps back and charges again.
Another boom that’s loud enough to set your ears ringing. This time, the door falls inward and lands in a puff of dust with a clang. The ram snorts again and paws at the dirt, looking decidedly pleased with itself. Your elemental manifestations stride through the entryway and across the fallen door. You follow, the celestial glow of your summoner lighting the way.
Beyond, you find a sprawling cave. It’s a storage room, and it’s filled with stacks upon stacks of flat, hexagonal stones embossed with gold and etched with runes and magical ley lines the likes of which you’ve never seen. In the center of each stone, a glowing blue crystal sparks with energy.
Theurge conduits.
Collect special Limited NFTs related to this story at https://www.splintertalk.io/nfts/
Credits:
Story: Joey Shimerdia
Editor: Sean Ryan
Narrative Lead: Joey Shimerdla
Character Art (cover): Candycal
Illustrations: Harlis
Graphic Design: Tamer "Defolt" Oukour
Voice Acting: David Dahdah
Ending credits song: AfterSound
Audio Manager/Music: Isaria
Post Production: INFLUX Pictures
Creative Director: Nate Aguila
