Part 18: It Only Gets Worse

It Only Gets Worse





East Kazg is in no better shape than the rest of the Kazgian plains. The earth here is true filth -- useless for anything but driving beings mad. You approach one of the patrolling Taker warriors.

The Taker guard doesn't want to talk to you. He says, "You should go back to Kazg. Deal with Gnorrel. You are not safe here." Then he moves on.

You sigh and pull your collar up over your nose and mouth. The dust here is foul and the wind is fierce. The Takers have ruined many of the statues that line this road, but, curiously enough, left a Guardian statue intact. Maybe they find it inspirational.





The Takers haven't bothered to maintain most of the structures out here, not even this square where so many of them meet during their patrols.

Bones dot the earth, accentuated rather than hidden by withered grasses. You think most of them are ornk skeletons, but you can't be sure.



A skeletal grove proves to be a boneyard of sorts. You follow a spotty path west back towards Kazg, only to find another structure hidden among the dead trees.



You wind along the path until you see the doorway where two serviles await. As you approach the temple ahead, the two guards at the door cross their weapons.

"Stay back, Shaper," the first says.

"This is Shrine of Defiance. No Shaper who set foot inside is suffered to live. Back or we unleash powers on you," the second adds.



You can't imagine what powers these deluded serviles think they have, but swords and javelins have an all too real bite. As you turn back, you notice a sign by a rickety fence. It reads "Shrine of Defiance - All Shaper lovers killed!"



You find a few ornks in a dry paddock by another large ruin, fenced in with the bones of old companions.



There are even a few pathetic garden plots out here, though all that's within them are a few dead sprouts.



The ruin, however, is occupied; a sign outside reads "Kurit Tinker." The place has been converted into a spacious workshop which is remarkably devoid of the clutter you've encountered in other such places. That isn't to say that the place smells good or is particularly clean.



You meet a servile tinker, wearing robes stained by the juices of living tools and other Shaper devices. Serviles normally make some effort to bathe regularly. Isolated living has caused this specimen to give up the habit. Fortunately, he does not regard you with the hostility common in this area.

"Greetings, Shaper. I am Tinker Kurit. Welcome to my little shop."

"What do you do out here?" you ask, looking around. You don't spot any mines or spore boxes, but you never know -- he might be hiding another breeding program behind the far doors. They don't open when you come near.

"I am a tinker. My mother, and her father, and his, well, something, have passed down the secrets taught to us by the Shapers, the secrets of maintaining and repairing their tools. And I can, if you wish, trade with you for supplies. Or even sell you access to my special Shaper artifacts," Kurit says. You keep a fair distance, perhaps more than is strictly polite.

"Special Shaper supplies?" Those do sound intriguing.

"The Shapers left us with many artifacts. Some are useful to serviles. But some kill us. I have some specimens of the latter sort of item. One is good for warriors, one for wizards, one for creators of life. Each is 750 coins."

"That's a high price for something you can't use," you say. "I'm willing to take them off your hands, but not for seven-fifty apiece. How do you even know what they're good for if you can't use them? I haven't come across a single labeled canister in my time here. They might be as likely to give the power to shape ornks and berry bushes as grant any kind of wizardly powers."

"But they're rare--" Kurit stops himself when he sees you turning away to leave. "All right. How about 500?"

With more time, you might haggle Kurit down further, but you're not interested in sticking around his smell. "Accepted. I'll come back for them a bit later. In the meantime... Why aren't you hostile to me like your fellows?"

Kurit relaxes his hunched up shoulders. He doesn't appear accustomed to negotiations, so simple conversation puts him back at ease. Or at least as much ease as a Taker can feel when faced with one of his creators. "I am mostly in agreement with the Takers. But not totally. I feel that you Shapers are our enemy. But I believe that, if we deal with you bravely and fairly, it will not be necessary to go to war with you. I am even more liberal than Gnorrel in this regard."

You think he should join with the Awakened, but it's not your place to evangelize for them. "Why do you live out here, then?"

"Because some Takers find my moderation repellent. They would gladly kill me if they had the chance," Kurit says. He sounds calm, as though this is an eminently reasonable arrangement.

"Does Gnorrel accept your disagreement?"

"She does not want to. But she needs supplies and weapons. So she needs me."

"I hope you remain indispensable, then, for your sake." If not for the tinker in Kazg proper spending all her time on mines, you doubt Kurit would still be here. "But what can you tell me about this area?"

"East Kazg is a ruin, as you can see, and it has not received the attention of the other areas. There are three features of note, besides where you are standing right now. There is the Cult of Defiance, the Mixing Hall, and the gates." Kurit seems willing to share quite a lot of information with you -- this is more cooperation than you've gotten from any Taker besides Poola.

"Tell me about the Cult of Defiance, if you would." You turned back when their guards told you off, but you think you'll eventually have to return... If only because you feel in your very bones that you'll be tested by serviles and perhaps even outsiders soon, and you must know the strength of your magic and your creations.

"Their temple is to the west. They are, well, extreme in their views. They hate Shapers. They are determined to gain magical powers, the powers Shapers forbade them to develop. I hear that they have had some success." You raise your eyebrows sharply, but Kurit continues without delving further into that tidbit. "Even Gnorrel and the Takers hate them. They want to interfere with Gnorrel's plans, whatever they are. They stay holed up in their temple now, waiting to be killed by someone." Serviles were specifically designed to be unable to use magic. If these serviles could cast spells, that would be very odd. Very odd, and very dangerous.

"What about this mixing hall?"

"It is to the south. Shapers once used it to mix noxious substances. It is well secured for that purpose. Some serviles tried to use it a few months ago. Their errors made those chambers quite dangerous," he says.

"Interesting." East Kazg is certainly full of dangers. How have the Takers tolerated all of this right outside of their base for so long? "Should I know anything about the east gate?" Eko Blade wanted you to go further east to deal with the outsider rebels, but you can't recall if there was something special about the gate here that you should know.

"I recommend against trying passing there, until you have permission from Gnorrel or Eko Blade. They aren't letting anyone go past there. I don't know why."

The Takers must be blockading the gate because of the rebels. They must be trying to cut them off from any possible assistance. "Thank you for sharing this with me. If you have the time, I'd like to trade."



Kurit has a decent amount of money for you to clear out your inventory, but I don't recommend ever buying consumables from him -- his stock isn't special, and he never offers a discount, even if you become a Taker. Empty his pockets, consider buying some of his canisters (warrior: Heal, wizard: Searer, shaper: Roamer). You only need 5 leadership to get him down to 500 coins per, which isn't bad.



When you venture back outside, you find a clear pool at the very edge of the dead woods. A few saplings have taken root here; the spot of green does a little to alleviate the oppressiveness of this dying land.



A servile guard boldly walks up to you. When she is standing toe to toe with you, she says, "Shaper, I am Veel Blade. You are not allowed here. You may not pass."

You are forced to keep your creations firmly reined in so they don't hiss and snap at Veel. She lacks the subtlety of her counterpart Eko.

"What is past the gate?" you ask.

"I will not tell you. This is not your place. Go back to Kazg. That was only warning," she sneers.

"Eko Blade has commanded that I be allowed to pass." This servile is visibly younger than Eko Blade and her armor is neither as fine nor as weathered as his. You're willing to bet that the male servile is her superior.

Veel thinks. Then she sends a runner to Kazg. You wait uncomfortably for about an hour, staring at each other. Then the runner returns and says that you speak the truth. "You not lie. Now word is sent to us. You may pass in safe way." She sounds a little disappointed that she can neither bar your way nor provoke you without potentially facing consequences.

"So what's past the gate?" Maybe giving her the chance to share her superior knowledge will ease tensions... The other guards watch with a grating combination of amusement and aggression at this mockery of a parley.

"Dangerous, rebel humans. We are to keep them bottled in, so that they can do no harm."

That's what the serviles should have done with all the outsiders to begin with, but the Takers have no loyalty to your kind. You doubt Trajkov's Sholai care about what becomes of their Taker allies when the Shaper Council eventually discovers what's been going on under their noses. "What else can you tell me of this area?"

"Nothing," she growls. "Now go."

"A pity," you say. For now, you head west along the patchy road. You're more interested in the mixing hall than in whatever surprises the east holds.



A path breaks through the naked trunks here. The bark has fallen off these poor trees, leaving them black and silver. If a fire ever broke out here, the Takers would be utterly ruined. You haven't seen signs of any type of fire brigade, either. These serviles are either ignorant of the danger facing them or simply relying on luck. One out of control campfire, one bad lightning strike...

It's not your problem to solve.

You find a servile muttering in the shadow of a Guardian statue tucked in an outer corner of what must be the mixing hall. He runs up to you as soon as he notices you, revealing that he's armed. He is clearly deranged. "You Shaper! I challenge you! You cause us too much pain! You die! You all die!"

If you don't calm him, you'll be forced to kill him -- and you don't know how the guards will react when they find out. You've already made overtures to the Takers, so you say, "I am your ally. If you let me live, I can kill many Shapers for you." You doubt this pitiful specimen will ever learn whether or not you've lied to him.

He seems confused for a moment. Then he says, "You are Taker too? Gnorrel say there be Shaper in Takers soon. I let you live, but only so more Shapers die." Head bowed, he walks away.

You release a sigh. You doubt the mad servile would have been a challenge, not backed into a corner as he was, but you don't want to fight everyone who decides to avenge him...

If you choose "Wait! Perhaps we can work this out. Maybe I can help you," Snag will respond with "No! No Shaper tricks! All Shapers die!" and you'll go into a very easy combat. He doesn't drop anything of note. Sparing him, however, gives you way more experience.






You sidle past the closed vats to the open doorway on the eastern side of the small facility. Here you find a few surviving lab benches, as well as two servile corpses. They died painfully of massive caustic burns. Under such primitive conditions as Kazg offers, they never stood a chance, not even with immediate treatment. Unfortunately, you don't find any clues about what these serviles were trying to do.



You gingerly try the lids of these vats, but they're sealed firmly shut, so you approach the control panel on the back wall. It still seems functional -- the tiny creatures within respond to your touch. Somehow they've survived despite the awful conditions here.

You're not sure which levers control what. If there was ever any labeling here, which you doubt, it's long gone. The Shapers often rely on security through obscurity, and in general, casualties and fatalities caused by people accessing projects they were not assigned to are considered a self-correction mechanism. In other words, play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

So in the grand tradition of overwhelmed apprentices everywhere, you pull three levers at random: 1, 4, and 5.



Of course, you are immediately punished with a stupid prize. Three massive battle creations emerge from the vats, already primed to kill. A massive glaahk, a distant relative of the clawbug, plus two battle alphas, based off of thahds. Both make their simpler cousins look as harmless as a gecko compared to a drayk.



Your artilas open fire on the glaahk first, as it seems the most threatening of the trio. Acid corrodes its armored plating, but it doesn't fall, not even from the concentrated attentions of your two strongest spitters. You cast the war blessing over your creations even as the glaahk and one of the alphas pound placid saviour's vulnerable body.

The fyoras focus fire on the glaahk as well -- its attacks are even more devastating than the battle alphas', and its armor makes it much more formidable. You take aim with a spray crystal, the most powerful tool in your arsenal. The glaahk falls, but the battle alpha ducks away just in time.

An awful calculation plays out in your mind, almost beyond the level of conscious thought: your healing craft isn't strong enough to patch up placid saviour with one casting. A single blow from these mighty rogues would undo your work and more. A healing spell here would be fruitless. You must do all in your power to kill these rogues before they can kill you. The best defense is a good offense.



In your frenzy, you attempt to hasten your party, but the spell fizzles -- your understanding of blessing magic is too feeble to execute the spell even though you know the practice of that specific spell. Frustrated, you hurl out a speed pod, then follow up with another crystal attack. The stunning spell it releases misses the battle alpha tormenting placid saviour, but you still achieve the desired effect -- the alpha turns on ManxomeBromide, who withstands a pummeling and is able to bite back.

But a backlash hits you while you struggle to save placid saviour. The other battle alpha, not pinned under fire, crushes PurpleXVI with one fell attack. The roamer didn't stand a chance against the blow which pulped its skull. You reel from the unexpected death.



The other alpha succumbs to a second spray crystal, which manages to hit PurpleXVI's slayer as well. Placid saviour panics and flees out of sight, leaving only you, the fyora duo, and ManxomeBromide to finish off the enraged rogue.



It charges ManxomeBromide. With a massive stomp, your artila is smashed into two separate segments and dies with a horrific wail.

GreatEvilKing takes out a chunk of the alpha's leg, hobbling it. Idhrendur is not to be outdone: with one snap, it severs a hamstring. You crush another crystal and hurl a stunning spell at the alpha which leaves it overcome. Though it's a powerful battle creation, it's also mentally weak, and is overcome by the crystal's magic. The battle alpha sways in place instead of lashing out. GreatEvilKing finishes it off by tearing into a vulnerable femoral artery.



Overwhelmed, you sink down amid the gore for a moment. Placid saviour, covered with ichor and malformed from its grievous wounds, returns. It tries to comfort you with a nuzzle even as it seeks comfort for all its injuries. The fyoras have escaped untouched somehow, but you've lost three creations all in the space of mere minutes, if that.

After healing the survivors, you pull the other levers. These, you reason, must open the three locked doors in the facility. There are no more vats, so the locked rooms should be reasonably safe. You feel sick anyway. You've lost so much that a certain morbid fatalism sets in: if more rogues leap out from behind these doors, you're meant to die.

The door west of the control panel slides open, revealing another automatic door. It's still alive. This wing seems to be all storage. You gather all the remaining supplies from the first two rooms, and then move into the third -- a canister.

At last.

When you use it, knowledge of how to manipulate your foes' physiological functions blooms in your mind. With this, you can use the body's autonomous responses to render your foes unreasonably terrified. The battle alphas would have almost certainly been vulnerable to this... Though you don't quite have the grasp of mental magic theory to really execute this technique. Perhaps later.

The canister makes you feel a little better. Your beloved creations fell in battle, a worthy end for steadfast guards. Now you can make stronger ones in their memory.



The opposite room has two crystal spires. You examine them from a safe distance, keeping off their platforms. Disabling them is beyond your skills, and you're not sure what they're being used for anyway.

More importantly, there's another canister in this room. When you use it, you feel your body becoming stronger, steadier. Your heartbeat evens out and your pulse slows. Some of the fatigue you've been carrying since arriving in this barren waste leaves your taut shoulders.



The last room has an old experiment that, despite its long abandonment, still seems to yield results. The blue and green crystals here emit a familiar energy -- it's faint, but it's the same sensation as an essence pool. You touch a lacy blue crystal and healing energy surges out like water from a burst dam. The green versions fill you with essence, enough that you decide to make a replacement creation.



This thahd doesn't fill you with confidence, but with PurpleXVI's death, you need a creation who can take some blows for you and your more fragile creatures.



Thus, Big McLargeHug is born from your essence.



One thing you are confident of, though, is your skill at shaping artilas. This one is even stronger than its more experienced elder sibling, placid saviour. RickVoid makes a very fitting successor for poor ManxomeBromide.



Weary, you return to Kurit. He doesn't venture any opinions about the sudden change in your retinue nor the condition of your robes. You hand over a heavy purse of one thousand coins for the warrior and Shaper canisters. They prove useful: the one Kurit picked out for warriors is a healing spell; something you hope might prevent you from more terrible mid-combat tradeoffs in the future. The Shaping canister improves your facility with creating roamers. Perhaps PurpleXVI will have a worthy heir one day.





With so much blood and sorrow behind you, you continue east through the gates and past the hateful Taker guards.

Next time: Living on the Mercy of Strangers

As I noted before, voting is still open.

Thank you to everyone who's participated so far -- readers, commenters, voters, those of you who've asked questions and PM'd me, anyone who's bought some of Vogel's games after checking out this LP, and those of you who've even rated the thread! I hope I can continue to meet your expectations for the LP. It's my first time doing this, so I'm really overwhelmed by the response.