The Let's Play Archive

Geneforge

by POOL IS CLOSED

Part 13: A Landmine Is an Eternal Sentry

A Landmine Is an Eternal Sentry, or How I Came to Love Spores



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Someone has been busy here. The ground is seeded with mines. The sensors atop these dangerous fungi wave slowly in the air, waiting for someone to get close and trigger an explosion.

Ahead, you can hear a swiftly flowing river. It would appear that someone went to great effort to keep you from crossing it.

More accursed mines. You weigh the cost of using one of your creations to sweep them, but decide to hold back for now -- after all, the path north appears to be clear. Before you go, you check a nearby sign. "Northbridge. West - Pentil. Watch out for mines!"

Well, in this case, you didn't really need a warning. The danger is all too obvious.



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This looks like a junkyard. Scavenged trash is piled all over the place. Someone has been thoroughly mining these ruins for old Shaper supplies. Things beyond repair have been thrown here.

Someone must live up in this corner of the woods. You pick your way through the scraps -- rusted blades and ceramic shards poke up out of the turf, presenting a constant danger to carelessly placed feet.



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There are several small mines just ahead of you. However, when you get close, the antennae on top bend sharply away from you. In fact, this is exactly what they are supposed to do when a Shaper gets close. It means that they will not explode. Whoever placed these here, you can pass them safely.

You creep forward, but the mines don't detonate. Nevertheless, you pass gingerly, holding your breath until you make it to the other side. There's no telling when some hidden foe might change the mines' attunement...



The path twists around and reveals what the mines were protecting -- another Shaper ruin. The door slides open to admit you into a barely-intact structure pocked with small craters and scorch marks.

You find a servile tinker inside, surrounded by goods on display. A small number of serviles are trained to operate Shaper tools and equipment. This must be a descendant of the tinkers on Sucia Island, passing down the secrets of maintaining and repairing your stuff.

He bows to you. "Welcome, Shaper! Welcome to my little, humble home. I am Lahnee. I am a scavenger and repairer of Shaper supplies. I hope my work meets with your approval."

He has been busy. This building is full of supplies, refuse, and trinkets scavenged from this area. If it looked like it might be the least bit useful, Lahnee took it.

"There are lots of mines in this area. Where did they come from?" you ask.

"Oh, they were left by the outsiders. That's what we call them. They are strange humans. Not like you. Outsiders, with a strange language. I don't know where they came from. But not long ago, a few months, maybe, a bunch of them came through here. I hid, you see, and spied on them as best I could, as they filled my lovely wood with mines, and I suspect, worse. What's more, they trapped Northbridge, and now nobody can get through. Then they left," Lahnee says.

"I need to cross Northbridge," you tell him. This isn't strictly true -- you need to deny Northbridge to these invaders. If only they can cross it, it presents them with a real advantage over you. "Do you have any ideas?"

He thinks. "I have something that might help. Before the outsiders left. I saw one of them drop something. I think it was damaged. I got it. It's a tool, like a baton. It is in a cabinet in the back room. You can have it if you think it might help."

"Thank you. Did you hear anything interesting when you spied on them?"

"No. Their language was strange, but I did hear one thing. One of them was the leader. Another called him by name. The name was Trajkov." Very interesting. You take note of it. This Trajkov seems to really get around. You've already made good use of his name, though you're not sure if that will cause you trouble in the future.

"Are any of the outsiders still around?"

"Not on this side of the river. Maybe on the other side," Lahnee says.

Then Nabb's story of the Takers having powerful allies must have some truth to it. The outsiders must be working with the rogues of Kazg. Reaching the Taker sect is starting to seem at least as important as finding a boat off of Sucia Island. You can't leave without more information, at the very least.

"About the mines," you start to say, but Lahnee interrupts.

"It is very strange. These mines only explode when serviles go by, not ornks or other creations. They might affect you, and maybe not. I don't know how they were made this way, though."

This is far from impossible. Mines are actually little living creatures, with tiny but functional brains. They can be created to only explode under very specific circumstances, such as when a humanoid is nearby.

It is even possible to make mines which only explode when a Shaper comes close, though it takes great skill to do so. How would outsiders have gained that skill in such a short time?

"Your information's been very helpful, servile... I'll remember that." You look around his shop for a moment. Lahnee might have some things you'll find useful. "Where did you get all of this junk?" you ask. The sheer variety of stuff here is mind-boggling. It must represent years of work.

"We serviles rely on the goods your kind left us to survive. We gather them from ruins, and trash pits, and anywhere else we can find them. We repair them and use them as best we can. There is almost nothing I can't find a use for eventually."

"What's in the back room?"

"Mainly junk and things I have not yet tried to make work. If you find something back there you like, I would be honored if you took it," Lahnee says. Such generosity will not be forgotten, but one thing about all this does bother you a little.

Everything here, everything the serviles have, was left behind by the Shapers. The ones who truly own this place are your people. While the serviles certainly should be able to make a living, they're doing so off of your people's work and ingenuity... "You realize, don't you, that you're trading with the property of my kind. If you want to trade with me, you should at least lower your prices."

Lahnee thinks this over. "You are, I suppose, correct. I am a fair being. I still need enough goods in return to stay alive, but, to you, I will lower my prices."

"You've done well here. I'd like to trade with you," you say.



He looks pleased. "You are very fair-minded to my kind, Shaper. I am honored." After a minimal amount of haggling, you offload some of your extra salvage and come away with a few more living tools.



You help yourself to some of the useful-looking items in Lahnee's back room, mostly crystals and a few tools. Then you check the case in the rear.

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The cabinet contains yet more junk, rusty metal, used pods, shards of glass, and so on. There is also one item which looks quite new. You recognize it. It is an uncommon but occasionally useful bit of Shaper technology. It's a spore baton.

When activated, it releases spores into the air. Sometimes, Shaper creations are attuned to respond to these spores somehow. The nature of the response depends on the creation.

This baton, however, looks damaged. It looks like someone stepped on it and cracked it.

Well, not everything can be perfect. You examine the baton closely. It's still alive, thankfully.

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You grab some tools off a nearby table and get to work. The thing just has a hairline crack. You repair it easily. The baton's lifespan has been shortened a bit, but it will function.

You give the baton a twirl. This might actually save you a great deal of pain and effort. If you don't need to destroy the bridge, but can instead liberate it... Then the serviles will be able to take care of guarding it from now on. The outsiders won't find mining it as easy when the Obeyers know to expect them.





Back out in the woods, you find that, while there are more hostile mines, some of them were placed far enough apart that you can skirt by them.



You stick to the trees. Evidently placing mines in the undergrowth was too much effort, so sticking to where the brush is thickest provides you with a safe route to avoid the mines and see what they're guarding. You come out of the little adventure a few crystals richer.



Lahnee has left a pile of potsherds, broken canisters, and even a shattered crystal spire on the riverbank. Unfortunately, none of the stuff is useful. You try to peer over the river, but a heavy fog keeps you from making out much of the far bank beyond the dark shadows of more pine trees.







You get as close as you dare to the mines blocking the road. The baton only has a short working life, so you must maximize it as best you can. Who knows when you'll find another, after all... or if you ever will. You depress a small button along its length and it sprays a cloud of brownish spores into the air.

The effect is dramatic. The mines explode. Shrapnel from the paving stones burst out. You flinch away and stone chips pelt your cloak. ManxomeBromide isn't as lucky -- a larger shard of rock gouges its hood, leaving a sluggishly bleeding gash.

A baton for controlled explosions must have been easier than a baton that actually deactivates the mines. You suspect you'll have plenty of opportunities to practice using the baton before you clear the bridge. Hopefully this one baton will be enough.





You decide to reserve the baton for areas where the mines are impassible. Where they're spread out, you direct your creations to scout for you. Lahnee's information on the mines not detonating on regular creations proves accurate, as PurpleXVI has no problems walking right over the mines.

The roamer does, however, locate aggressive turrets. You direct your other creations to back PurpleXVI up and destroy any turrets they find.



You follow carefully and examine the ruins back here as best you can. Whoever placed the mines clearly wanted to protect the ruins, but did a terrible job placing the mines.



Another Shaper building is concealed among the trees. Your creations take out the turrets guarding the place without wasting a single movement -- they know as well as you do that the turrets are awful things.





The rusty old lock is no proof against your charms. Inside, you find two more closed chambers. This must have been a small storage facility before the island was barred. Inside the first room, you find a most excellent reward for your nosiness -- a canister!

It grants you an amazing boon: the ability to instill supernatural terror into your foes. You've experienced this ability's devastating effects when it hit your creations. Now you'll be able to do the same to Trajkov's rogues... and perhaps even to the outsiders themselves.



Back on the main road, you clear a few more rows of mines, and then approach Northbridge itself.

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This old, stone bridge has withstood the years of neglect quite well. Stone posts line the edges. Ropes were once strung along them, but they rotted away long ago.

It would be easy to pass, were it not for the mines covering the span. The mines in the middle look exceptionally large and dangerous.

You don't want a repeat of what happened to ManxomeBromide, so you direct your creations to fall back. The fyoras whine, unhappy at being separated from their creator, but you know this is for the best. With them following at a safe distance, you begin sweeping the bridge...







Once all the mines are detonated, Solution can freely cross the Northbridge zone. Hooray!

The outsiders definitely haven't abandoned the eastern shore. Though you couldn't see it for the trees and fog, there's a live campfire here with logs pulled up around it. You find boot prints in the muck. The sentries here were human and they were here until not that long ago. They must have seen you coming and have decided to leave instead of confronting you.

Since we already met the outsiders at Southbridge and bluffed them into thinking we were invited by Trajkov, there's no one here to meet us.



You take the time to nose around the outsiders' camp. Unlike its counterpart at Southbridge, there are no letters here, but you help yourself to their arms and armor. The serviles can make use of it, and denying the outsiders materiel seems like a good strategy.

The outsiders have mined parts of the shore, though you're not certain if they're guarding those areas or if they're protecting themselves against disobedient rogues. Unfortunately, investigating the southern area requires a couple more uses of your baton. It's hard to tell how much longer the spore baton will last, but you think you're about halfway through its uses...





More irritating turrets bar your way. Fortunately, they appear to be the most basic type, and they fall quickly before placid saviour and ManxomeBromide.







The mines were blocking the way to a locked chest with a golden ring inside. You wonder why the outsiders didn't just take the ring with them. When you slide it over your finger, you find that, not only does it fit perfectly, but it's also ice cold. Interesting.

You've freed both bridges from the outsiders and confirmed the outsider threat. Things are much, much worse than they appeared when you first washed ashore here. Now you're no longer certain where your responsibility lies -- should you prioritize escape, or should you try to learn more about the trespassers, the Sholai?

Moreover, there are rogue serviles cooperating with these wretched thieves in order to throw off the Shaper yoke... And for what cause? The Shapers have no intention of returning to Sucia Island. The Takers could stay as independent as they please if they just remain here. There was never a need to involve outsiders in their rogue philosophy.

Answers and a boat must lie farther east, though.





The forest here is lush. The trees have overtaken the road, growing so thick and verdant that you cannot pass. You're forced to veer off into the narrow paths left by rogues and who knows what else. A tickle of paranoia along your nape causes you to wonder if the Sholai are even now watching you from among the trees.





A glimpse of Shaper statues among the statues guides you south.



Tucked into the cliff face and nearly concealed by the untamed woods is an automatic door. You spell it open and step inside, breathing air untouched by Shapers in more than two hundred years.



The place has held up as well as can be expected without any maintenance for all that time. Fortunately the earth here must be stable, as settling has only cracked some walls instead of making them crumble. Even all the pillars seem to be intact so far.

The obelisk here says, "To Holding Cells. Clear entry with Cell One." This place must be another research center. The door to the north doesn't open for you. You decide to find another way around. A facility like this probably has some useful supplies for you, and may also have more canisters. Locked doors just increase the odds that serviles and outsiders haven't yet looted everything of value.



The floor lamps light as you approach, casting welcome light on another automatic door. Unfortunately, it doesn't open, and there doesn't seem to be a way to open it from this side.



You head east and, to your surprise, locate another servant mind. Just as surprisingly, it's still alive. You check the case nearby first, but it is empty. Someone took the mind nutrients that were left here.

This servant mind's energy has clearly been depleted by its long years here. When you approach, it says, "Shaper, I am Cell One. I am out of nutrients. Please feed me so I can function."

"Where can I find some?" you ask. You've got two cases, but perhaps there are more stored nearby. The more you can find, the better off the minds here will be.

It barely has the energy left to talk, but somehow it manages. "There should... be some... in the nearby case. No energy. Must be... dormant." It closes its eyes and stops speaking.

Disappointment, your closest companion, has returned. You close your eyes like you're mirroring the servant mind, and then make your decision.

You open the ceramic jug and carefully feed the nutrient solution to Cell One. The effect is almost immediate. It opens its eyes wide and stretches its tiny arms and legs.

"Thank you, Shaper. I knew that if I continued to live, you would return one day. How may I help you?"

"What is this place?" you ask. The servant mind's stretching triggers a sympathetic yawn in you, which in turn causes a yawn cascade in the creations of yours which are capable of that. You're not sure what the artila equivalent of a yawn would be, since they lack jaws and their lungs are more like accordions motivated through constant motion and most of their respiration occurs through the pores in their skin... Well, it's not relevant right now.

"This is, well, was a facility for storing creations. When a creation was made and needed to be held for further study, it was kept here. I kept track of what was here and operated the defenses."

Creations held for study... Such things must be dangerous. "Are any still here?"

"Most things held in the cells starved long ago. The only things that could live long enough, besides me, were turrets and shades."

"Tell me about them," you say.

"A new sort of turret was created on this island. A reaper turret. Horribly lethal. One of them was placed in one of the northern cells. Maybe it still lives." You have never heard of a reaper turret before. They might only exist on Sucia Island.

"The shade is a new variety of creation. Very exciting. Only partly physical. Held together by magical energy. The Shapers were very excited about it." Interesting. The making of shades is completely forbidden by the Shapers. Shades must have first been discovered on this island... The shades you encountered back in the Tombs were challenging foes. Have the outsiders learned how to create them? You shiver. "Because they have only limited corporeal form, they are very difficult to hold. Our cells are the only ones that can manage." It says this with some measure of pride.

You're nervous yet intrigued. This place represents a controlled location in which to examine creations which might be among the first and last of their kinds. "Tell me about this area's defenses."

"The cells are held shut with powerful doors," the mind says. "I control all of them from here. The rest of our defenses died off long ago."

"Please open the doors for me."

The mind cannot resist your order. It closes its eyes for a moment, and then says, "It is done. The doors will now all open at your approach. Please be careful, Shaper. Not all of the prisoners are dead."

"You only know about the doors?" you ask.

"If you find any other defenses here, I did not make them and cannot control them. I am sorry, Shaper," the mind says.

You hum softly while you think about what you should do here. These creations sound both terribly interesting and awfully dangerous. Curiosity is a good quality, and a certain healthy amount of it is encouraged in Shaper apprentices, but too much of it has a way of taking care of the problem by itself... Still, you can't pass up the chance that you'll at least find something useful here. The mind doesn't remark on the humming. It's certainly encountered stranger tics in Shapers, and commenting on such things is not a mind's place.

"I want to know more about this island," you finally tell it.

"Sucia Island was used for research. Many of the wisest Shapers came here to work and learn. Then, about two hundred years ago, the island was Barred. The Shapers all left quickly, so quickly that many objects were left behind. Like me," the mind says sadly.

"Why was the island Barred?"

"I am not important enough to know. One day Defniel came to me and told me what was happening. Two days later, they were all gone."

You can't imagine such a swift evacuation. Something serious must have precipitated it. No wonder so many creations were abandoned here -- there was no time, no time at all. With such a short deadline, even humans might have been at risk of being abandoned here. "Who was Defniel? Can you think of anything else?"

"He was in charge of the school to the west. He was very important on the island. He was the one who closed this facility down while passing through on the way back to the school," the mind says. "I do remember one thing. When Defniel was walking away for the last time, he said, 'Damn the Geneforge! It would all have worked out if they didn't push things too far!‘ That is all I heard. I apologize for not helping more, Shaper."

"What is the Geneforge?" This is the first you've heard the term. Whatever it was, it must be at least part of the reason the island is Barred.

"I do not know. I am not even sure that was what he said. He was very upset and angry, and I was scared."

You thank the mind and praise it, then order it to hibernate once more. The nutrients you've fed it will help it live a very long time if it remains dormant, but you have no idea when and if someone else will come along to feed it again.



Time to get smart!





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Water damage has smeared the writing in this book. It is almost completely illegible. You can, however, understand one passage:

"Shades of all varieties are to be kept here from now on. Other facilities lack the properly sealed cells required to contain them.

"Shade cells are not to be opened without a full complement present. They are volatile and lethal under even the best of circumstances."

Your determination to see another shade is starting to seem a little mad even to you. You try to page through the other books, but water damage has left the pages all stuck together and moldy.





The door admits you into the main hall, which is lined with stout pillars. To the west is the forest. You decide to head back out there for some fresh air; the staleness of the Shaper warren is getting to you, and you're starting to rethink checking out what the old Shapers left behind. The obelisk here reads "High Defense Holding Cells." How high can the defenses be after two centuries?



You head north instead and almost immediately stumble upon a pair of turrets.

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A pair of living turrets guards this pathway. When you walk into View, they turn their nozzles, through which they fire their thorns, away from you. You can pass safely.

You breathe a sigh of relief as you walk by.

The turrets protect another Shaper ruin, but this one is occupied by more than shades and abandoned minds. This servile is more nicely dressed than most you have encountered. He seems to have made an effort to wear clean, nicely made clothes.

He is also unusually quiet. When you approach him, he merely says, "Welcome, Shaper. I am Buron, a tinker."

Sometimes, serviles are used to maintain and repair simple Shaper objects. Buron has been a dedicated follower of this tradition. This workshop is full of tools, broken batons, and so on. It's not so different from Lahnee's home on the other side of the river.

"What do you do here?" you ask.

He speaks slowly, carefully weighing each word. He may be speaking with extra care because he is in the presence of a Shaper. Or maybe he's always like this. "I am a tinker. I scavenge and repair Shaper goods in my workshop. And I try to breed living equipment."

"Breed equipment? What do you mean?" That doesn't sound too different from Learned Jaffee's efforts, though he seems to have confined himself to taming rogues instead of fruitlessly mating them.

He points to the north. Your eyes follow; outside you see a wide clearing with pens. "I am trying to breed living tools and batons. They are alive. I am trying to get them to make more of themselves. It would be very good for serviles."

"Have you had any success?"

"No. But I think I am having some success awakening the natural desires of thorn batons." You can't even imagine what he means by that. Buron watches you silently. Occasionally, he flicks a tiny bit of dirt or lint off of his robes.

"Isn't being out here dangerous?" you ask.

"I have defenses. And very few people come here," he says.

Buron is almost irritatingly taciturn, but you've had more experience with his kind by now. Patience is key. "Have you seen anyone interesting?"

"No. But I do not get out much. If you want to talk to someone, reach Clois. To the east. She is wise. And she talks."

At that, you laugh. You think you see Buron smile slightly, but it's hard to be sure. "What do you know about this area?" You're determined to exhaust his supply of words for the next ten years.

"It was a Shaper structure. I do not know what it was for. To go east, you must pass through it," he says. That wasn't quite what you meant, but it will do.

"There are traps, but a skilled being can pass them. As far as I know, these tunnels are the only way east in this area. You could also disarm the traps by walking on them." He laughs briefly. You suspect that that was his idea of a joke. "Also, there are deadly worms on the other side. You can sneak past them, but you have to be careful. They patrol the field out east."

"I see. Is there anything interesting on the other side?"

"There is one of your servant minds." You've already met it, so this is no surprise. "It is dormant now. I don't know why. But when it was awake, it told me that there were humans inside. Recently. It said that one of the humans was killed, and that human had a submission baton." The mind didn't tell you any of that.

"Interesting."

"Yes." Buron looks down for a moment, then back up at you, though he doesn't look you in the eye. "I am humble, Shaper. I do not ask things of my betters. But if you could bring me that baton, I could increase my breeding stock and maybe have success with my work. It would really help us serviles. If you could bring me the baton, I would help you as much as I could."

You don't point out that it's his duty to do so anyway. Buron already knows that much. It would be boorish and pointless to say so. "You are unusually quiet for a servile."

"That is why I choose to live out here. I am not comfortable with my kind. I speak with you so much because I owe it to you as one of my creators."

"I am looking for a boat. Do you know where I can find one?"

"No."

You expected that. At least he isn't wasting your time. "I would like to trade with you. Do you have any goods for sale?"





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Living tools and batons are actual living creatures, cunningly created by the Shapers. They require a tiny amount of nutrients, and they serve purposes normally fulfilled by inferior, crude, inert objects.

Here, you see an effort to get these scarce and valuable creatures to breed with each other. Buron has placed them in these pens with water and food, in the attempt to get them to reproduce.

You doubt that it will work. Even when they do reproduce, it requires a skilled craftsman to work a thorn baton creature into a functional, dangerous baton. Still, it does show an unusual amount of initiative and cunning for a servile.



The breather and conversation have done much to restore your confidence. You return to the High Defense Holding Cells, determined to clear them out. Even if you don't encounter the shades and the exotic turret, you can at least ensure this place is passable.

Mines block the northern passage, but fortunately, someone left a control spore box on this side. You flip it.



You find a small outpost -- the serviles must have used it as a barracks, but it's been long abandoned. Whichever sect claimed this place either abandoned it before the outsiders arrived or they were driven out.



You blunder onto a mine before you even see it. The blast hits PurpleXVI and GreatEvilKing even as you direct them to flee. They're lucky to still be standing. If you'd triggered one of the fat, dark mines a little further away, the story would probably be very different.





After patching up your creations, you continue to explore the Holding Cells. The place is maze-like, perhaps in an effort to help contain any dangerous experiments if they break free of their confinement.



You find another well-lit door in a dead end. While you read the warnings on the obelisk placed outside, PurpleXVI steps a little too close to the door and it slides open.

Inside is a violently purple turret. It quivers, nozzle pointed directly at you. It's been here a very, very long time, and if it had a mind, it would no doubt be insane. Regardless, this turret is not friendly.

Your artilas swiftly destroy the turret before it has a chance to show you what it can do. You're relieved. You pick through its remains as it rapidly dissolves, but you learn very little. Fortunately, it leaves behind some interesting thorns almost as brightly colored as it was. You pocket them.



The turret was guarding another canister, too. You thank your lucky stars for such a happy accident before you use it. This one grants you the same powers as a spray crystal. Searing orbs can strike multiple targets in close proximity, making it the perfect spell for any situation in which you're overwhelmed by multiple opponents.



A number of cells prove to be empty of anything but bones and trash. It's almost a relief.



You initially think this cell is the same, but then a flicker of motion at the corner of your eye catches your attention. A ghostly vlish hovers within.



It proves hardier than its fully corporeal kin, but it's still no match for acid.



Not far away is a small rest station with an essence pool. You take a breather here and investigate the supplies your predecessors left behind. The canister makes you even faster than before. You've never been the type who won footraces, but with enough of these things, that might change.





Reinvigorated, you make your way back to the mined corridor and head eastward. You're pleasantly surprised to find that the other exit is not very far away.

You're less pleasantly surprised when idhrendur shrills an alarm. Just beyond the exit is a blue-gray artila that hisses at your creations. GreatEvilKing nails it in the gob with a fireball, but the rogue is only badly wounded, not out of the fight.



That rogue is only the first of many. Several more artila zip past the entrance without noticing your creations. Only a couple stray close enough to see you in the shadows. These you pick off one by one.

For the moment, you decide to head south. It's best to make sure no other surprises can sneak up behind you while you deal with these strange artilas.





You disable the mines here and fine another essence pool. It's a little strange that these pools have survived while so many others are dried up. Maybe the serviles used to maintain them.



Beyond the essence pool, you find another holding cell.



The spectral vlish cannily makes use of the doorway to create a blind spot. You order your creations to queue up and take potshots at the shade until it dissolves into a cloud of noxious gasses.



There's a corpse back here that's in such bad shape, you're not sure exactly when the being died. You're fairly certain it used to be a human, but the damage is so extensive that you wouldn't say the skeleton was definitely a person's... Regardless, you find an interesting baton here. This must be what Buron wants. Thus, the skeleton must belong to one of the outsiders. Too bad the body isn't in better condition. You would like to examine a Sholai more closely.





With those grim findings under your belt, you return to the exit. More rogue artilas wait, but your creations are fully capable of taking them out without sustaining any damage. The Holding Cells exit presents a perfect pillbox for your team to hang back and snipe artilas as they pass without being exposed to return fire.



It's a relief to be back out in the sunlight once more.





You put down several more rogues and scatter their nests. These skirmishes are going well for you. When you first set foot on Sucia Island, you wouldn't have dared to approach a rogue artila. Now you can go beard them in their dens.







Before you go, you stop back by Buron's workshop. "I have a submission baton for you." You hand it over.

"Thank you, Shaper," he breathes, handling the baton with almost reverent care. "This will complete a baton mating pair. Maybe I can start creating more of these powerful weapons. There is little one as humble as I can give you. But please take anything sitting around in my store. It is all yours."

He isn't exaggerating. You pick up everything that looks useful to a Shaper, thank him profusely, and leave before he can regret his excessive generosity.



Next time: Service, Sacrifice, and Saviours