Part 22: An Alliance with the Follies of Others

An Alliance with the Follies of Others





No more battle alphas await you on the other side. You check the nearby obelisk, which reads "Officials and Lodging - West. Holding One - Northeast."

The sounds and smells of the sea are much stronger here. As you cock an ear to the incoming tide, you also detect a certain familiar scuttling... Clawbugs.



When the Sholai or whoever else dislodged the clawbugs from the seaside caves, they didn't get rid of the ones all the way out here. Of course, these aren't ordinary clawbugs, but a tougher variety with sturdier shells.

Your artilas are able to wound these plated bugs, but neither GreatEvilKing nor idhrendur are able to burn through the improved chitin. You keep Like Clockwork close by just in case; an ambush from the northeast could be disastrous if all of your creations are too far away to protect you.



You catch a glimpse of something moving beyond a natural stone pillar. It hasn't come closer yet, so you don't know if the rogue hasn't noticed the fight or if it's up to something else. As it scuttles east on the ruined street, you realize it's another glaahk.

Hopefully it keeps going and doesn't turn back.



Finishing off a single plated bug takes your creations an inordinate amount of effort. You cast a war blessing over them as the second bug falls, leaving only a badly burned third bug that crept up from the south.



With the aid of the blessing, idhrendur scores the final hit on the plated bug, freeing you to turn your attentions eastward. If glaahk are patrolling the docks, you must try to take them on one by one, lest they overwhelm you and your creations.





The patrolling glaahk eats several full-force shots before it even turns to face you, but by then, it's too late. The glaahk's legs crumple beneath it and it falls.



But the patrol isn't limited to just one glaahk. Another scuttles down from the pillar's blind spot. You keep your creations on this side of the pillar, using it as cover to limit the number of rogues which can see your team at any one time.



This tactic seems successful enough. Your creations keep the glaahk staggered and disoriented, denying it the ability to close the ground between you. You can hardly lose such a favorable fight.





If only all fights could be so lopsided. The third patrolling glaahk manages to close with placid saviour before Like Clockwork finishes it off. How many more of these things guard the docks?





You walk the circuit around another massive rock formation, then head south. Someone fenced in a patch of grass and trees here a long, long time ago. Perhaps it used to be a garden. There's nothing left now but the slowly crumbling fence.



Not far from there are several nests and piles of bones in a nook of stone not deep enough to be called a sea cave but not shallow enough to be a mere divot. Maybe the clawbugs were just starting to expand new warrens. You've put a stop to that for now.



Before you head toward the docks, you check the chambers to the north. They must have been storage rooms or holding cells for goods coming and going. The first room is heaped with supplies.


You get a couple stacks of poison for searching any of the piles in the first chamber with the exception of the one in the northeast corner, which has a nice collection of gems as a "sorry about being a jerk" reward.

One of the rooms has cabinets containing antique bronze swords still in excellent condition.



But another has something far better -- an intact canister. When you use it, it grants you the ability to create your own battle alphas.



The last door opens to release a stale breeze. You catch a glimpse of a familiar glow and you draw back. It's another hated pylon. Your creations swiftly mangle it -- by replacing Zeniel with Like Clockwork, your team now has the firepower to bring the pylon even closer to destruction before it manages to shoot them with searing orbs.

You're not quite there yet. If you had hastened the team, or used a war blessing...



Your reward is a pair of even more finely wrought gloves than the shaped steel gauntlets you wear. After examining the enchantment, you determine that the effects are somewhat similar to war blessing. If you ever need to make a last-ditch defense, these gloves could save your life.






There might have been a gate here an age ago, but it's long gone now. You approach the shore. There are no ships at the docks.

No ships, no boats, no drayk-craft, not even a crude raft to bear you away.





A burned up corpse lies in the grass. The birds and bugs are having their way with the remains, but most of the body's armor is still intact. You don't find any keys, though.



You struggle to shake off your disappointment and keep moving. You're not the only Shaper on Sucia Island. If you can find this other Shaper, perhaps together you can escape. The chances of the Sholai actually being able to help you with that seem minute at best, about as minute as the code of life being stored on tiny scrolls inside you.

The sea is too choppy for you to just swim to freedom and the currents here are fast and frigid. Still, you can't help but fantasize about making a dramatic escape...



In the end, you turn your back on the horizon and return to shore. Just behind the rock formation here is another body, badly burned but not as charred as the first corpse.


You're not sure how her previous looters missed the key by her head, but you don't question your good fortune any further.



A plated bug scuttles out of the offices to the west as you examine Anfisa's body. It snags one of Like Clockwork's hind legs in its claws and starts grinding and mangling the limb. Your creation cries out in anguish and battle is joined.



The noise of the fight attracts more attention just as the plated bug falls.



You have Like Clockwork fall back until you can heal it. Fortunately, the plated bug wasn't venomous, so despite its injuries, your roamer is able to endure. Without any other reinforcements to aid it, the rogue plated bug falls to powerful acid and blistering flames.





Of course there must be one more pylon! You back away, but not in time for your whole team to avoid injury. The magical attack leaves your creations disoriented, but you are able to rally them enough for the counterattack to swiftly breach the pylon's core and force it to harmlessly explode.



The customs office is in surprisingly good shape, but there's little in here of use. You collect some larger shards from the destroyed pylon in case the serviles are interested, and then you retrieve some of the records which are still in decent shape for transport.






This must be the other end of the trapped path Narsu described. Having a second route to the docks might be worthwhile later -- it'll be harder for any opposition to guard two paths.



Breaking through requires you to destroy a few more pylons, but eventually you make it back to the Shaping hall.



With the hall cleared of foes, you decide to tinker with the control panel.




You twist the defenses knob, but it breaks off in your hand. Cell 3 proves empty, but Cell 2 contains another working canister. It grants you the power to dominate the minds of your foes and use them to defend you as they would a dear friend -- a valuable skill if you ever find yourself outmatched again.



Cell 1 proves to be full of plated bugs, though you're not sure how or why. Who filled the cell up with bugs? They certainly didn't survive in there for two centuries.

Regardless of how long they've been in there, the plated bugs are hungry and angry, and you can't seize control of them. You instruct your creations to attack.



The resilient bugs somehow manage to avoid the spray of your swarm crystal, which is so baffling that you draw back and prepare for a much tougher fight than you'd initially expected.



The first plated bug out of the cell darts at your wounded roamer for some revenge. Like Clockwork yelps at the jab of a hand-length stinger. Two more bugs scrabble free of the dim cell, but you fire a crystal again, and this time, one bug dies and another is gravely injured.

Idhrendur blasts the plated bug harrying Like Clockwork. The rogue collapses against the rotten shelves and lies still.



The last bug charges and stabs you twice, brutalizing your neck and shoulder. Your creations surround the rogue and pull it down until GreatEvilKing pulls its tail off, ending the bug's life. It's a cruel way to go, but you can't summon much sympathy as you stem the flow of arterial blood from your wounds.

You manage to heal the trauma, but the effort leaves you shaky and drained.



Of course the bug cell is empty. There's also a conspicuous lack of any way for the bugs to have gotten in. There are no burrow holes in the walls, ceiling, or floor, and no sign of egg shells or box mines. It's very curious.



Back outside of the containment and Shaping zone is a small room with a pair of crystal spirals and a damaged stand.


You try tinkering with the spirals, but you realize almost a moment too late that you've only succeeded in overloading them. Only flight saves you from a fate worse than a few shrapnel wounds.



You head back around the corridor and discover that the remaining pylons have deactivated. If only you'd located the power spirals first! You could have saved Zeniel and prevented a great deal of suffering. At least you were able to shut some pylons down... Approaching this one from a blind corner was a nasty surprise.

The pylons aren't the only system tied to the control panel. The automatic doors open for you now. You find a few storage rooms and even a hardening off chamber for saplings. The plants have been dead for a long, long time, and crumble to nothingness at your touch.



The chair and its restraints remain intact, nearly spotless but for lingering stains. The leather belts have cracked a bit from age and dry air, but you think it would still do to restrain anything short of a battle alpha. There's even a dagger and a bowl to catch the blood in the back. This was why there were whips and cuffs in the cell room...

You drag yourself away from the termination chamber, sickened.

You've killed your share of troublesome rogues now and even considered executing the outsiders for daring to land on Sucia Island and meddle in Shaper affairs. Still, finding a termination room with such primitive measures disturbs you. Perhaps it's all the losses you've taken and the disappointment of there being no escape awaiting you at the docks. You can't make yourself face the rebel Sholai right now. You aren't sure what you'll do if they aggravate you, and you would rather maintain some semblance of control.



In the end, a bit of unfinished business with the Obeyers decides matters for you. You'd told Mickall Blade that you'd look into the Kazg forces in the woods south of Pentil, and you did so. That was days ago, now...

When he sees you, Mickall asks, "What else do you wish, Shaper?"

"I've done as you asked. The rebels are destroyed," you say.

Mickall falls to his knees and presses his head against the floor in front of you. It is a very archaic sign of respect and obedience, one out of practice for many, many years.

"Thank you, Shaper," Mickall says, his voice muffled by the floor. "You have done much for us. We are unworthy of your kind, of our mighty and wise creators." He stands. "I will spread the word of your deed, so all can learn of your kindness."

"Is there anything else troubling you, loyal servile?" you ask. Of course, killing those Takers makes you a hypocrite. You didn't end their suffering painlessly -- you killed them in combat, full of anger and fear and pain. How can you flinch at the termination room like a child? You've tasted necessity.

Yet that bare chamber seems everything but necessary. A short dagger, a seat facing a wall...

"I almost dare not to ask, after you have been so kind to us. However, there is another fear we have. To the east is a river, and the river is spanned by two bridges. Because of trouble crossing those bridges of late, we have been unable to contact one of our outposts. It is along the south coast of the island, well concealed, west of some jagged peaks. The leader there is named Doge. Meet with him and make sure that things are all right."

"I've cleared both bridges, but if I find the place you describe, I'll look for Doge. Take care."



Our healing craft still needs a bit of work. More importantly, we're smarter now!



You head to the northern wastes, determined to explore the Junkyard before turning back east.

This barren zone embodies your expectations for a wasteland. Heaps of bones, trash, and rocky clay stretch from where you stand all the way into the dark and ominous foothills. The heavy, dusty haze obscures whether the foothills are green or not, but given the lack of water or scrub here, you suspect not.

The first sign of life out here is a vlish. Unlike the reddish varieties you've fought in the past, this one is a deep ultramarine, not too unlike the guardian roamers. It's not a color that frequently appears in nature.



Lucky for you, the vlish proves fragile enough. As acid reaps its due, another vlish appears from the south. You decide not to take any chances; a war blessing improves your team's ability to take the vlish out from range before they can summon aid.



RickVoid bursts the vlish's air bladder. Still another appears from the north, not far from where you encountered the first.



You can't take it down before it strikes. Its power snares idhrendur, who wails and makes as if to flee, somehow even bucking your control. The vlish can't stand toe to toe -- or tentacle to segment -- with placid saviour, though, and dies.

Idhrendur doesn't need too much encouragement to tamely rejoin you once the terror vlish is gone.



More vlish appear as you head north. They float and bob on the gentle air currents. At first, you don't think they've seen you, but then one screams -- an awful sound that puts your teeth on edge.



Your creations destroy the nearest vlish, but the other rogue jets away to the north, screeching the whole way. If you don't want the entire wasteland piling down on your head, you must destroy it.



It leads you to twisting passage in the cliff face. Its screams draw other vlish, blocking the way forward. But blue or red, vlish are still vlish -- and that means they're eminently vulnerable to your creation's attacks. Your team crushes them one after another until you reach the end of the passage.



The rogues have piled up quite the boneyard here over the years. You destroy their nests after checking for valuables. There's little of note, so you soon depart to check the other tunnel you spotted, the one with all the garbage mounded up outside.






A servile walks up to greet you. She seems unaffected by the fact that you are a Shaper. She smiles up at you.

"Greetings. Welcome to our humble trash pit. I am Proof. I am the trader here." Trash pit is a good description. Aside from a few decent goods laid out on rugs at your feet, most of the items on the shelves and everything outside are garbage -- too old or damaged to be of any use.

"I would like to trade with you," you say. Perhaps Proof has some goods squirreled away that you'll find useful.



As it turns out, she doesn't. Disappointed, you shake your head. "These items are not useful to me. Do you have any quality equipment?"

She thinks. "Yes. Yes, we do. Hidden. Special things, which we are saving to sell for money for emergencies. But you are the Shaper. We might trade with you, if you help us."

"Help you how?" you ask. You consider trying to intimidate her into showing you her stock anyway, but... going that far is unappealing.

"To the west, through the wastes, you will find a large gate. Some miles to the west. There are large stone pillars around it, and many ghosts. None of us have been able to explore and scavenge beyond that gate because of the spirits. But you might be able to clear it, so we can go past there. If you clear that gateway, I will let you see our special stash," Proof says.

"If I have cause to head that way, I'll look into it." You wonder if these ghosts are more of the spectral creations you found guarding the Tombs and at the High Defense Holding Cells. "But aren't you worried about the rogues outside?"

"No. Those vlish, or their ancestors, have been living out there for many, many years. They are old rogues. We feed them. They leave us alone. The old rogues only rarely threaten serviles. Only when they are scared or hungry."

You feel a little guilty for slaughtering the vlish when you hear that, but they were certainly afraid enough to attack you and try to summon more of their kind. "What about the rogues who do attack serviles?"

"Those are the new rogues. They appeared only recently. Only after the outsiders came," Proof replies. She seems to not be picking and choosing what to tell you; it's strangely unnerving to speak with someone honest after all this time.

"Have you seen the outsiders?" you ask.

"Very little. They entered these mountains, and the vlish chased them out. We spend most of our time scavenging the wastes. The wastes are full of old rogues, and the outsiders stay away from there."

You wonder if you've just robbed this pair of their only protection against the Sholai and the Takers. You hope not. "What sort of things are around here?"

"To the west and north are the Dry Wastes. Many of the old spirits, many vicious rogues. Very few serviles are brave enough to go out there. To the south are settled lands, and Vakkiri and Pentil. Sane serviles. To the east is the river, and then the research halls. The old Shaper halls. There are many outsiders and rogues. Very, very dangerous."

"Nothing's changed that way; it's still dangerous past Pentil. What sort of things are in the Dry Wastes?"

"Ah, now there is a mystery. I don't know. The Shapers, when they were here, only rarely went out there. There are ruins, old ruins, of the people who live here long ago, before the Shapers came. At least, that is what the old Shaper records say. I found mentions that the Shapers built a tomb out there once. But that is all I found." Proof shrugs. She's pragmatic enough not to regret being unable to indulge her curiosity -- you've learned the hard way that nosing around these old sites is bad for one's health and a sure way not to reach old age.

"What do you know about this tomb?"

"Almost nothing. It would be a place of great honor for the greatest researchers of the Shapers on the island. I don't know where it was, or what would be put into it."

"Have you seen anything else unusual?" The Tombs did seem rather small for an island in service as long as Sucia was. You wonder if this new burial site has anything to teach you -- and if the old Shapers put in any more horrors to guard it. You hope not. Perhaps over time whatever measures they used have failed.

"Well, there are these woods due west of here. They're filled with clawbugs now. Very dangerous. Before the rogues appeared, though, I'd sometimes see a thahd wandering around out there. Didn't see it very often. It avoided me. One strange thing about it. It was always clutching this stone crescent to its chest."

"That is strange. But thahds are odd creatures at the best of times. Thank you, Proof."



You help yourself to a tour of the building. Whatever it used to be, it's now a warehouse for all sorts of mostly useless junk. In one of the rooms, surrounded by chairs and spent canisters, you find a control panel.


It's a shame. You quickly put the living part to sleep -- it shouldn't be complex enough to feel pain, but you're not certain of that. It shouldn't have to suffer when there's no chance of it ever being saved.

At the opposite end of the building is a work room dominated by one long bench. You meet a jittery, old servile. He is hard at work trying to repair an old thorn baton. It is still alive, but its stone casing is cracked. The servile manipulates his tools with surprising skill.

At first, it seems like he doesn't notice you. Then you realize that you are making him very nervous, and he is immersing himself in his work to remain calm. He says, "Welcoming to the Shaper. Welcome. I am Shock. I... Welcome to our tiny shop."

"What are you working on?" You gesture to the baton. Maybe talking about his work will help Shock relax.

"I... I... I fix things. We find many of your old things, and us tinkers, descendants of tinkers, we fix them and trade them so we can live. It is hard work, but our ancestors were trained well. Right now, I am trying to repair this baton. Its housing is cracked, and the pressure on the creature prevents it from spitting the thorn properly. I wish I could repair better, but I don't have enough Shaper equipment. It is rare."

"Perhaps I can help?" You offer your hand. You were able to fix the spore baton not that long ago, though you suspect the problem here isn't quite so simple.

"You may look. You know more than me."

You inspect the baton. It is much more difficult to maintain the things than you thought. You poke at it with a tool. It squeaks and twitches. Eventually, you hand the baton back to Shock.

He is tactfully quiet. "I can understand your not fixing it. Shaper. You must be tired."

"You know, there's no need to be afraid of me. I won't hurt you," you say.

"All serviles on this island fear you. I hear the gossip. I hear what they say. I hear them talk when they come to trade. We are all terrified of the return of the Shapers. Until your council says we can remain as we are, the terror will remain."

That much is true -- Sucia Island's fate can't be decided without the Council. And no matter how low you truly are in the Shaper hierarchy, to these creations, you are a representation of the Council's power. You can't disavow it; to do so, to become truly alone on this island, would be close to suicide.

But that's neither here nor there. "Servile, I need your assistance. I would like to trade with you."

"Proof can trade with you. She is in the entry room. We will not help you more, without fair trades. We do not like being around other serviles. We have no strong feelings for the Awakened, or the Obeyers, or so on. But we are free creatures. We trade."

"I respect your freedom. I only wish for help," you tell him.

"We appreciate the respect. I am sure Proof will be happy to trade with you. Go out and speak with her. I am not the dealer. I work and repair and scavenge. I am not one for bartering," Shock says. At least he's getting a little more comfortable around you. He doesn't flinch whenever you move.

"You do the scavenging?" you ask. "Isn't it dangerous?"

"It is strange. Even the most mad rogues do not chase me, as long as I am careful and do not get too close. I think it is something basic in their minds, in the way you Shapers made them, which makes them nervous about attacking serviles." Shock lays the baton on his workbench and regards it thoughtfully. "Or at least that is the way it was. Lately, more and nastier rogues, rogues that happily attack us, have appeared."

"What sort of things do you scavenge?"

"Anything. Anything I can find. But mostly trash. I wish I could get to the old Shaper records which say where the best supplies were. But I cannot."

Now that piques your interest. "Old Shaper records? Where might those be?"

"Kazg. Kazg was once the largest city on this island. All the records of where the most valuable equipment was placed are there," Shock says. "But Kazg is held by the Takers. And the Takers will not share. If you wanted to know more about what you could find where, Kazg is the place to go. Toivo is their main record keeper."

You've already read Toivo's personal notes and the bits of Shaper knowledge he's seen fit to preserve -- it makes a certain amount of sense... So you'll be visiting the holding cells and mines after all if you want to improve your own supply situation. That means destroying more pylons, probably. You hope the outsiders haven't already gotten to those ruins.

"Is there anything I could get that might be useful to you?" you ask.

"Shaper equipment. Machinery. Lab devices. If you find something like that, I would pay you. I can do that."

"Where might I find good equipment?"

"I cannot reach the research halls in the mountains at the northeast corner of the island. I suspect that is the most likely place," Shock replies.

"I'll see you again if I find anything," you say. In fact, you think you already have some equipment he can use stashed away in Vakkiri. The old Shaper equipment you found during your early explorations is still in good shape, even if it's not useful to you. The glassware is particularly fine.









Your team burns a path across the waste, clearing out all the rogues who get in your way. They don't seem that shy -- whatever built in aversion they have for serviles mysteriously doesn't seem to apply to Shapers, which makes very little sense.

When you discover their nests, you also find a dead servile and a cast away whip among the remains of other meals. It's hard to determine how long ago the servile died or what even killed them.





All you can be certain of is that these vlish and their ancestors have occupied this slice of Sucia Island for a very long time. They're well established enough to have actual strata of bones and past prey leading to their nests.




Try as you might, you can't uncover anything of interest about the pillar. It's not something a Shaper would make, you don't think. Your people deal more in crystal and wood, and if you were to build a stone pillar, it would support a room, not be tucked in a hidden cave.

But it’s time to move on. Maybe you’ll investigate the western wastes before turning back…



Next time: Our Share of Miseries