Forge of Eternity: Alpha Testing, page 37
My opponent used my briefly divided attention to lunge forward for an attack. That was a bad move for him. I had already returned my focus to the fight, blocking out the ringing of steel and detonations of magic from my awareness. He extended his sword for a thrust and I stepped inside his guard, bringing my hammer down on the extended shoulder. He slumped, the last of his health finally depleted, and I turned away to rejoin the party.
I caught sight of Goodwin, eyes wide as he turned to run away. That was not the look of somebody excited to go join a different part of the battle. One of the other Embers was missing, and I saw a scorch mark on the stone floor where it had been. I made assumptions and threw myself to the ground, summoning the wall of earth around me just as the enemy’s corpse detonated.
Popping my head back over the barrier I saw another fresh scorch mark on the ground. I checked the last opponent’s health, just under half the health bar remaining. Getting in close could be risky if Gavin didn’t top me up, or at least heal me a little. The halfling was right in the thick of the fighting, tossing healing spells to Uri and Phelyya while keeping the shield side of the ember busy with probing jabs of his staff. The fighters he was healing didn’t seem to be healing all that much, health hovering around the three-quarters mark.
Flanked on three sides it didn’t have a chance, so I hopped the earthworks and jogged over to Amalie and Goodwin. The others had seen the first few enemies explode, so when it finally died they sprinted away and dove to the ground. Judging by the party icons, that allowed them to avoid most of the damage. The battle over, everyone hustled to the hallway to get out of the heat and recover.
You are no longer in combat.
You have defeated 4 x Armored Ember of the Forge (Level 4) and gained 800 experience (4 x 200 experience)
Defense increased!
You have unlocked the Warhammer Proficiency skill.
Hammering away at your foes requires a bit more skill than hammering nails. Warhammer proficiency reflects your ability to cause violence with hammers under polearm length.
Sword Proficiency Synergy Bonus: Warhammer Proficiency increased to level 2!
My mind played back a few sections of the recent fight, highlighting some of the situations where I could have used the hammer more effectively. There wasn’t a ton of overlap with the sword skills I’d learned over the last day, but I no longer felt quite as inept with my new weapon. Synergy bonus aside, I had a feel for how the weapon moved in a fight now and I liked the results.
“Technically you were right about that being animated armor,” Uri said, pulling me out of my thoughts. “I figured it was going to be boring at first, like the skeletons.”
“Definitely not boring,” I said, rubbing the spot on my neck that had just finished healing. “I’d call it educational. I learned that getting hit with a searing hot sword hurts a lot more than getting hit with a normal sword. Also, fighting in a sauna sucks.”
“Yeah, but we heal up from it all the same,” Uri shrugged, “I prefer it to being trampled or tied to the ground. Pain is pain, but it goes away fast enough when the fighting ends.”
“Were you a professional masochist back in reality?” Goodwin asked, giving Uri an odd look. “Don’t get me wrong, this is the sort of fantasy I dreamed about when playing games, but I really don’t like getting hit. At all. I have a feeling that when the game launches for real, the mouse and keyboard players will be the best tanks.”
Amalie shook her head. “Mouse and keyboard players are nerfed for balance reasons. Damage output and damage mitigation are capped. With the same stats and class, UPCs and VR players have the capability to outperform desktop players. That doesn’t mean they will, necessarily, since it’s all about skill and execution. Desktop players may be a bit more of a stable choice.”
“Lame,” Phelyya said, shrugging. “But I’d rather be comfortable here in my room than standing in the hundred-degree fart dungeon.”
“And I’d rather be an immortal hero with superhuman powers, earning treasure and killing bad guys, than trying to pay rent and eke out gaming time here and there,” I placed my hammer back in my belt and turned to the room we’d just cleared. “On that note, I don’t see any loot so I assume it’s all in the chest. In the fire. We need to figure out what to do about that. Phelyya, since you don’t care about the heat, mind looking around the room to see what you can find?”
She nodded and walked inside, making a slow circuit of the room, poking the walls and tapping the torches experimentally. Eventually, she inspected the flaming treasure chest, circling it for a while before returning.
“It’s a puzzle,” she said confidently.
“No shit,” I said, rolling my eyes and drumming my fingers against my hammer’s head impatiently. “What type of puzzle? Any specifics to share before we all go bake in the oven?”
“More importantly, do you know how to solve it?” Amalie asked, without any sarcasm in her voice. “There’s not a whole lot in the room to work with so it has to be something simple.”
“Torches are loose, I think we can pull, remove, or turn them,” Phelyya said, walking back into the room as she spoke. “The chest has some symbols etched into the metal, but they’re hard to see through all the fire. They match up with symbols on the torches. I think we just need to put the right torch in each corner and we’re good to go.”
“I’m not going to complain about a simple puzzle,” I said, cracking my neck and walking into the heat of the room. “After the difficulty of these monsters, I’m okay with a couple softballs.”
“I feel obliged to inform you that such a statement is a direct challenge to the forces of fate,” Gavin said, still cheerful as ever, but with a slight warning edge to his voice. “It is not wise to tempt Fortuna unnecessarily.”
“Yeah, that’s a rule of the universe, even outside the game,” Amalie added as the rest of the group followed into the room. “You should know better.”
I threw my hands up to argue, but by the time my brain caught up all I could say was, “I guess.”
Getting close to the fire around the chest was uncomfortable, my skin felt like it should start blistering any second. Using Phelyya’s avatar as a guinea pig, we found that the fire dealt no damage unless you actually touched it. Comforting, even if it didn’t do anything for the natural human aversion to pain and discomfort. Phelyya pointed out the symbols to Amalie and Gavin and stepped away to let them puzzle it out.
“Can you two direct the rest of us on rearranging the torches?” I asked, turning to the rest of the group. “Let’s each take a torch, it’ll save time rearranging them.”
I went to the corner closest to the closed exit door and inspected the symbol on the torch. The shaft had a blocky, triangular symbol etched into it, and I pulled the torch from the wall to get a better look. The flame jetting from the wall abruptly stopped when I removed the torch, which made the room slightly less unpleasant. A faint ticking sound started up a moment later and I replaced the torch.
A small fireball knocked me back a step, dealing a small amount of damage as the wall section ignited again. Blinking in confusion, I removed the torch and replaced it immediately. No reaction. I held the torch out a little longer until I heard the clicking again, then held my shield up as I replaced the torch. Another brief explosion, except this time it dealt no damage as the shield reduced my exposure.
“This puzzle is timed. Don’t remove the torches from the wall until we’re ready to exchange them,” I said, looking around the room. “I think that’s what killed us last time. Remove the torch for too long and the whole room goes up eventually.”
I heard a small explosion of flame and turned to see Uri dusting himself off, refusing to look up from the floor.
“Okay children,” Amalie said, words clipped and annunciated with faux-authority. “We’ve figured it out, now it’s time to match things up. Insert the torch where we tell you, then wait.”
Amalie called out which symbols belonged in each corner. Those of us near the torches confirmed where we were going to head, and began the torch swap after a brief countdown. Everyone got hit with a small blast of flame as the gas from the walls reignited, which was more annoying than damaging. At the same time, the portcullis to the hallway slammed into place with a shuddering crash. A distinct hissing sound started from somewhere near the hallway.
“Amalie,” I said, tension in my voice. “Any next steps for us now that everything is in the right spot?”
“Hold on,” she replied, squinting at the fire still surrounding the chest. It seemed to have diminished a little, which was encouraging. “Oh! I see. The top symbols are for the starting position, but there are directional indicators below. Everyone grab your torch and run clockwise.”
We began moving quickly, each making it to the next corner fast enough to avoid a blast of fire. Instead of explosions at each corner, the portcullis blocking our exit was suddenly engulfed in flames. Amalie ordered us to advance again, but this time after placing the torches in their fittings, we needed to pull down on them like beer taps. We followed instructions, leaning back as the flames on each torch doubled, then tripled in size. Finally, the column of fire around the chest faded.
“Chest might still be trapped,” I said, remembering the last time we’d tried to open it.
“Nah,” Amalie kicked it open casually, the chest erupting in a shower or harmless sparks, “I’m confident we took care of it.”
Despite wincing involuntarily, I was happy to see that she was right. My logs showed loot notifications, not warnings of imminent death.
(Accept/Ignore) Tempering Fires Ember Key
(Accept/ignore) Worn Map
(Bid/ignore) Fire essence x 4
“Looks like we all get a key and a map,” I said, inspecting both carefully. “Doesn’t look all that detailed.”
“Works well enough to provide a mini-map,” Phelyya said, looking over her own. “Better than nothing, but not by much. Fire essence might make something cool, but I’m still not happy about how much loot needs to be assembled in this game.”
“I’m not happy about how many things aren’t susceptible to fire damage so far,” Amalie grumbled. “Deacon, lead the way, let’s keep going and see if the next enemies are more flammable.”
Everyone formed up around the only safe exit from the room. The archway we entered from was barred and on fire, not to mention the four large torches blazing and steadily heating the room. Needless to say, we were eager to leave. Eagerness aside, I had both Gavin and Phelyya check the door for obvious traps before slotting the key in the lock. I assumed the presence of a key would lull most adventurers into assuming the door was safe. I had decided to assume the worst about everything in the dungeon on this trip, and so far I had not been disappointed with that approach.
“Shit! Spike trap in the door frame connected to the handle,” Phelyya said, stepping back with sudden speed. Gavin wasn’t quite as quick and yelped as a broken brick shot into his shoulder. The jagged edge of the stone extended out into a sharpened point, piercing through the cleric and remaining in place for a moment before retracting. The trap reset to its innocuous appearance as a simple, broken brick.
“Any reason you didn’t warn Gavin before setting it off? Amalie asked, wincing as the halfling lurched away from the door and began healing his shoulder through gritted teeth.
“Yeah,” Phelyya said with a shrug, stepping back up to the door, “I only found it by triggering it. Decided passing along the details from my log would be more useful to everyone in case the trap killed both of us.”
“Fair point,” I agreed, seeing Gavin back on his feet, no worse for wear. “Did that disarm it?”
Looking pointedly at Gavin, Phelyya slowly reached for the door handle. The smaller man got the hint, backing off a few steps out of range. When the elf’s hand made contact with the handle the same brick whipped out toward her chest. Having anticipated the move, she jumped backward to a safe distance. At the peak of the trap’s reach it paused again for a second, and this time the end of the trap shot out like a bolt, striking Phelyya in the chest.
“Looks like that’s a no then for the disarming,” I offered, checking her health in the party icons. “That seems like a nasty hit. Is that something like fifty damage?”
“Around that amount. The strike carries with it a potent foulness,” Gavin said, casting a healing spell on Phelyya. “It continues to taint the blood for some time, even after cleansing.”
“Yuck,” Phelyya said. “Virulent Taint is not a status effect I want to think about. Gross name aside, my max health has been reduced by ten percent.”
“I can assure you, it sounds worse than it feels,” Gavin smiled, gesturing to himself, “I only feel the beginning effects of a fever. The ailment will expire within the next five minutes or so.”
“I can’t imagine this door is supposed to be a puzzle after we just solved a puzzle,” Goodwin said, waving a hand at the torches. “Have you tried just putting the key in the lock?”
I pulled my copy of the key out of inventory, adjusted my shield to protect from the spike trap just in case, and slotted it into the door. The intensity of the flames in the room dropped suddenly, a pleasant surprise, and turning the key caused the broken brick facade of the spike trap to shift subtly. I touched the handle and the trap didn’t activate, confirming the trap was disarmed.
“It appears we were being over-cautious in our assessment of the challenges here,” Gavin said, poking at the inert brick.
“No such thing in a dungeon,” I said, easing the door open into the room beyond, scanning for threats. Nothing moved in the darkness, at least nothing my tremorsense could pick up. There was an unlit torch in a wall sconce just inside the room. “Anyone with darkvision want to give me a rundown of the next room? Or at least let me know if the torch looks safe to light?”
“Just a boring hallway with some more pictures and gibberish on the walls,” Phelyya said, walking in cautiously. “I don’t see any obvious traps like the first room. Bunch of stone archways set into the wall. Maybe decorations, maybe they might do something. Not sure.”
“That’s not exactly reassuring,” I said, pulling the torch from the wall and lighting it off a flame from the current room.
“You asked if there was anything obvious,” she said, rejoining us in the light. “Nothing in there looks like it’ll be an obvious problem if you light that torch. Past that I can’t say.”
I set the lit torch back in the sconce, sending a thin line of fire racing around the walls, casting the room in a weak, flickering light. I stepped inside and took in the room slowly. The ceilings were higher than I’d expected, and the walls were more finished than the previous room’s rough work. It was at least fifty feet in length and about twenty feet wide. The murals were numerous and slightly less damaged here, especially compared to the state of the slab we were reading on the dais in front of the dungeon. While the detail had faded, most of the images still depicted complete scenes based on my initial assessment.
A sudden gasp from behind me forced paranoia back up to the surface. I spun with my hammer at the ready. Amalie grabbed my shield and dragged me over to one of the archway facades lining the wall.
“Look at this!” Amalie bubbled, pointing at some gibberish on the wall. “This here says we’re entering the Hall of Challenge and, depending on the strength of the warriors and the mettle of their souls, the offered challenges will change over time.”
“I don’t know if I want a dungeon offering challenges to my soul,” Uri shuddered, “that sounds unhealthy. I don’t know what my soul was like before, not sure if my game soul is any better.”
“That’s cool and all, but is it part of the quest we’re on here?” Goodwin asked, staring at the scene on the wall. “I just see a bunch of confused-looking cartoon people bowing down in front of a Koosh ball.”
“Shush, that wasn’t the cool part,” Amalie said, pointing at some of the illegible text. “This section states the reward for conquering five challenges between three attempts is access to the Forge of Creation.”
I stared dumbly at her, waiting for context. Judging by the silence I wasn’t the only one confused. Amalie’s insider insights were invaluable, so I remained cautiously optimistic as I waited.
“We’re probably near a Forge,” Amalie said, stressing the last word. “As in, a primal force of creation capable of everything from artifact creation to god-making. This absolutely dwarfs anything Ferventus has their hands on.”
I tapped my fingers against my weapon, considering. “I’m not really seeing how this super-murder tunnel is better than having a god on your side.”
“Power is not merely a measure of what force can be brought to bear in a vacuum. It takes into account the esprit de corps and the overall measure of the men engaged in their duty,” Gavin said, projecting as if at a lecture hall as he tapped his pipe against his lips. He was studying a section of the wall somewhere nearby on our side.
“That goes without saying,” I shrugged, “I was hoping for something more, tangible, I guess.”
“Access to a font of immeasurable power isn’t good enough?” Amalie asked, moving on to review another section of the wall. “Didn’t you hear me mention it could make gods?”
“Making new gods is cool, but I assume they’d be weak. Then again I’m not up on the lore of this world yet, considering the game is in its first round of testing and nothing from the story has made its way out yet, even to us,” I said. “What is a Forge and why is it significant? Is it like a leyline, an artifact, a raid, or what?”
“Yes,” Amalie said, nodding.
“Yes to which?”
“Yes to all of those things,” Amalie smiled as I narrowed my eyes, “there are only five Forges in the entire game world. So far, only one is publicly known and access to it is highly coveted.”
