Throne Hunters Book 4, Chapter 7

Kársek had set out the artifacts in neat rows when Harald and Sam returned to the group. Anna had drifted off despite the discomfort of her ornate plate armor, head simply tilted back against the wall, while Nessa remained curled up on her side, though whether she slept was impossible to tell.

“So what do we have?” asked Harald, lowering into an easy crouch as he gazed at Gorkin’s most prized treasures.

Eleven artifacts.

Most were weapons, or parts of them:

An ornate sword hilt complete with swirling crossguard, the metal a burnished orange.

A miniature pike only a foot long cast from platinum.

A black metal star with eight prongs the size of Harald’s palm.

An elegant leaf-shaped dagger with a massive ruby embedded in its pommel.

A strange club composed of two wooden slats hinged at their base, the hilt below that plain and unadorned.

A whip that looked nothing so much as a coiled serpent with azure and emerald scales limned in black.

A fascinating albeit bizarre scimitar whose blade was forged or perhaps even carved from black rock shot through with eddies of burning green.

Then there were the utility Artifacts, of which there were four. A bronze sphere the size of a fist banded in gold; a circlet fashioned from the same glowing orange metal as the sword hilt; a milky green jade disc the size of a dinner plate, its face inscribed with white runes; and a large silver brooch formed into a skull with a rose clasped between its teeth.

“Where to begin?” asked Sam, tone growing soft with wonder. Even after everything they’d been through, despite the pain, fear, and exhaustion, the sight of so many peerless treasures was breathtaking.

“Let’s just work our way through them,” said Harald, and reached for the glowing orange sword hilt.

Artifact: Ashwright’s Vow

Quality: Masterwork

Special Ability: Phasic Edge
Activation: Upon invocation, a blade of molten light ignites from the hilt, slicing through non-magical materials as though they were air. Armor, weapons, and barriers not touched by the supernatural offer no protection.

+2 to Dexterity while wielded

+2 to Ego while wielded

Passive Ability: Ashwright Set Bonus
When wielded alongside another Ashwright artifact, each item beyond the first grants +1 to all shared stat bonuses.

Set Potential: If all five Ashwright artifacts are assembled, The Fifth Ignition may be awakened.

Limitation: The blade cannot parry or block physical attacks unless they are magical or spiritually infused. Only those with unwavering conviction can ignite it.

“Masterwork,” said Harald, turning the ornate hilt around. “Reminds me of Nessa’s Phaseblades. Cuts through anything nonmagical, but also can’t parry or block.”

“I can hear Vic now,” smiled Sam, “gloating over its being worth a million scales.”

“Good stat bonuses, too.” Harald considered. “And given what we’re up against here on the 27th, that +2 to Ego is really useful. And it pairs with other Ashwright items. Fascinating. I bet that orange circlet is part of the set.”

“Hmm.” Sam bit her lower lip as she studied it. “Very situational, though. If you had great armor, you could cut a swathe through the hobgoblins on the 16th. But the farther down we go, the less useful it’ll be. More magical defenses.”

“The scarecrows aren’t magically defended though. And in fact, they’re as tough as ironwood. Something that could cut right through them would be fantastic. I had to hack at them over and over again till they fell apart.”

“True. But it’s got a psychological or moral condition set on it. ‘Unwavering conviction’. Be interesting to find out what that means. An unwavering conviction to not die?” Sam set it aside. “And I’ve never heard of a Set Potential before. Fifth Ignition? That sounds… I mean, I just want it. Whatever it is.”

Harald matched her grin as Sam leaned forward to snag the burnished orange circlet. “Let’s see if this matches up.”

It was elegantly forged, a single band of smoldering orange, but from the way Sam handled it not hot to the touch. Harald waited impatiently, brows raised.

“Yep. Here.” She handed it over. “It definitely pairs. That means when combined you’re getting, what, +5 Dexterity, +3 Ego, and +3 Presence? Amazing.”

Ashwright’s Wreath

Quality: Rare

Special Ability: Pyric Clarity
Activation: When worn, grants preternatural awareness of surroundings, as if time itself slows. Incoming attacks seem to arrive in slow motion.

+2 to Dexterity while worn

+2 to Presence while worn

Passive Ability: Ashwright Set Bonus
When wielded alongside another Ashwright artifact, each items beyond the first grants +1 to all shared stat bonuses.

Set Potential: If all five Ashwright artifacts are assembled, The Fifth Ignition may be awakened.

Limitation: Causes insomnia, burning eyes, and increased sensitivity to light and noise over time.

“That sounds great,” said Harald, marveling. “Slowing incoming attacks? Combined with a +5 Dexterity bonus?”

“Really great. I want them both.” Sam glared at him in mock anger.

“Plus the Eclipse Edge? Plus the Twilight Crown? Somebody’s getting greedy,” grinned Harald.

“Mine!”

“Sure. Sure.” Harald reached out to pat her hand. “Shall we keep going?”

Harald took up the miniature platinum pike. A foot long, it was light and felt like a children’s toy. Focusing on the magic within, he summoned its powers.

Artifact: Oathspike

Quality: Rare

Special Ability: Phantom Reach
Activation: When the wielder declares a target by name or title and vows to strike them, the pike extends to full length in an instant, striking from afar and bypassing cover.

+2 to Strength while wielded

Limitation: Cannot be used on targets the wielder has not sworn to engage beforehand.

“Rare, reminds me of the Point.” Harald turned the pike around in his hands. “Can pierce cover, though, which is useful. You need to declare your target first. Minor Strength boost. I think it’s value really depends on how hard it hits and how far it extends.”

Sam took the pike, and snorted. “I just realized I’m already reaching a point in my raiding career where ‘Rare’ feels like a letdown.”

Kársek smiled. “Comes from carrying the Twilight Crown and the Eclipse Edge, I’d warrant.”

“True.” Sam looked abashed. “Though I need to get my head on straight. Neither of them are mine.”

“I don’t think the Oathspike is a winner, though.” Harald took up the black star with wickedly sharp points. “Luckily we’re spoiled for choice here.”

Artifact: Mourning Thorn

Quality: Rare

Special Ability: Void Bloom
Activation: When hurled, the star splits into dozens of spectral blades that seek out visible enemies within range, striking vital areas with surgical precision.

+2 to Dexterity while wielded

Limitation: The number of shards unleashed is limited to the number currently bound to the artifact. Lost fragments reduce its effectiveness and may eventually degrade its Quality. Fragments must be manually retrieved and reabsorbed to restore full power.

“Now this is interesting. It splits into dozens of copies of itself which hunt out foes. Small Dexterity boost.”

He handed it to Sam, whose eagerness was evident.

“Ranged attack. At last.” She concentrated on the words she no doubt now saw. “But that limitation is brutal. We have to retrieve the shards?”

“I wonder what its Quality was originally. Can you imagine if it had once been a Mythic Artifact, and could unleash thousands of stars?” Harald smiled wryly. “Though… against Mythic level foes, a thousand steel stars wouldn’t do much.”

“Agreed.” Sam set it beside the small pike. “Try that strange looking club next.”

Harald took up the weapon and turned it about. The two boards were bound together at the base, with a leather loop at the top preventing them from coming more than a handful of inches apart. The wood was worn and stained, their faces embedded with small iron hemispheres, and the hilt was grimy to the touch.

Artifact: Judgement Slats

Quality: Masterwork

Special Ability: Sound of the Drowned
Activation: Clapping the wooden slats together produces a sonic wail only the guilty can hear. Victims suffer hallucinations, disorientation, and madness. The echo may linger in reflective surfaces for hours.

+4 to Ego while wielded

Limitation: Wielder becomes susceptible to dreams haunted by the Slats’ sound. Prolonged use causes creeping paranoia.

“Oh,” he said, a frisson of distaste passing through him. “Weird indeed. Judgement Slats. Masterwork, but they cause ‘the guilty’ to suffer madness. Huge boost to Ego, though. And that limitation is also brutal.”

Sam took it gingerly, her unease obvious. “Who decides who’s guilty?”

“The Fallen Angel,” said Kársek simply, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

“Fair. Which I guess means it would be incredibly useful against demons?” She carefully worked one of the wooden boards up and down. “But getting your dreams polluted by this thing sounds awful. And it doesn’t seem like it would be very efficient in battle.”

“Then again, imagine using it against a powerful foe like Thracos,” said Harald, brightening up. “It would weaken him over time, right? Slowly drive him mad?”

“Or drive you mad,” said Sam pointedly, “given that you also have a Demon Seed. Though that’s indeed a big boost to Ego. Huh.” She considered it, then slowly set it aside. “I don’t know.”

“Let’s try this dagger.” Harald took up the silvered weapon whose blade was shaped like a leaf, swelling out in the center onto to taper to a wicked point. A ruby the size of a pigeon egg glimmered in the pommel, fantastically large and catching the dim light. “Daggers are always useful, right?”

Artifact: Ruby’s Hunger

Quality: Rare

Special Ability: Hemoglyphic Leech
Activation: Each successful strike draws blood into the ruby pommel, which glows brighter with every feed. This stored energy can be unleashed to heal, empower an attack, or disrupt an Ability.

+3 to Dexterity while wielded

Limitation: The stronger the stored power, the more it draws hostile attention. Blood magic of this sort is considered abhorrent by many.

“Rare, but interesting. And… again, unnerving. I’m starting to sense what kind of Artifact Gorkin liked to collect.”

“Weird, creepy ones?” asked Sam.

“Weird, creepy ones,” agreed Harald. “This one steals opponents’ blood and stores it in the ruby. You can use it later to heal or empower attacks. Or, hey, this is interesting—even disrupt Abilities.”

“Really?” Sam reached for it. “Now that’s fascinating. I’m guessing the amount of blood stored controls how powerful an Ability you can disrupt? But then—oh. The more power you store, the more hostile attention you draw. And yes, thank you Artifact, for pointing out blood magic is considered abhorrent by many. Me included.”

“It’s beautifully crafted,” said Kársek, taking it from Sam. “That’s a razor edge. It’ll slice someone open with ease.”

“All the better to get their blood.” Harald shuddered. “Not sure I want to go down that road, slashing people to pieces and watching their blood flow into my weapon.”

“+3 Dexterity’s good, though. And disrupting Abilities? Again, could be really effective against Thracos.”

“Perhaps. All right. Let’s see if the next weapon is something slightly more normal and non-creepy. Surely this whip is going to be… I don’t know, a friendly, happy whip?”

Harald took up the coiled weapon. It was cold to the touch, its length muscular and scaled like a serpent, its emerald and azure patterning mesmerizing and alarming all at once.

Artifact: Vemereth, the Amnesiac Coil

Quality: Rare

Special Ability: Serpentlash
Activation: Once uncoiled, the whip lashes of its own volition, striking weak-willed enemies. Strikes cause memory erosion—victims forget actions from moments before.

+2 to Dexterity while wielded

Limitation: The whip resents control. If forced or restricted, it may attack its wielder in protest.

“Rare, another Dex bonus.”

“A friendly, happy whip?” asked Sam.

“No.” Harald’s tone was flat. “This one’s just as disturbing. It chooses who to attack, and seems to prefer weak-willed enemies. Causes them to forget what’s going on.”

“Useful.” Sam’s tone turned pragmatic. “No, I don’t need to hold it. I… I don’t like snakes.”

“Forgetfulness could cause a foe to lower their guard,” agreed Kársek. “Very useful.”

“But I don’t like how it chooses its own victims. If you try to force it to behave, it may attack you instead.” Harald set the whip down carefully. “No thank you.”

“There has to be something that’s a clear winner here,” said Sam. “Did we really just luck into Gorkin’s sadistic stash of perverted evil weapons?”

“Yes,” said Kársek. “That is what we did.”

“Great.” Sam blew a lock of golden hair out of her face. “Just wonderful.”

“It’s not over yet. Look at this thing.” He took up the stone scimitar. Its rough blade looked like a frozen wave of oil in whose depths glimmered effulgent green eddies, ripples buried deep in the black rock. And despite how unwieldy and heavy it appeared, Harald found it surprisingly light and responsive. He turned it about, admiring how the green depths flickered and flowed.

“Beautiful,” agreed Sam. “What does it do?”

Artifact: Chyron’s Scourge

Quality: Epic

Special Ability: Soulglass Edge
Activation: The blade shifts between realities, phasing into a toxic dreamscape. Strikes damage the soul and leave psychic scars.

+4 to Strength while wielded

+3 to Ego while wielded

+2 to Constitution while wielded

Passive Ability: Whisper Burn
Victims hear their own death whispered days before being struck, and begin to feel heat and dread long before the blade ever touches them.

Limitation: Wounds caused attract hostile spirits and night terrors. The wielder grows increasingly detached from reality.

“Whoa,” whispered Harald. “This is it. This is what we were hoping for. It’s Epic ranked.”

Sam leaned forward eagerly. “And? And?”

“Special Ability is called Soulglass Edge. Phases through a… toxic dreamscape? I don’t know what that means. But it damages opponents’ souls? And victims can feel heat and dread before they even get into a fight. So… it’s got… is that like predestination? And of course, of course the Limitation is horrific.”

“Look at those stat bonuses, though,” said Sam. “Incredible. But… ah. Wielder grows increasingly detached from reality? Really?”

“I can see why Gorkin chose to add it to his collection,” said Kársek, pulling out his pipe and herb pouch.

“Yeah. No kidding.” Harald considered. “Still. There’s a lot of uncertainty there. Shifts between realities. Does that mean it’s like a phase blade? How badly does soul damage hurt someone as opposed to a regular stab in the guts?”

“Hmm.” Sam laid the great blade down carefully. “Soul damage is right up there for me with blood magic.”

“All right. So.” Harald sat up straight. “A bunch of weird and awful weapons. Next time we should raid House Celestara’s stash of Artifacts. I’m sure they have more straight forwardly useful items.”

“Sure,” agreed Sam wryly. “I’ll make a mental note.”

“What else?” He turned to the remaining four artifacts and took up the bronze sphere. It sat heavily in his palm, its surface banded with thin burnished bands of gold. “This looks… potentially interesting?”

Artifact: The Compressed World

Quality: Masterwork

Special Ability: Axis of Diminution
Activation: Throws down to create a temporary zone where space folds upon itself. Enemy ranged attacks curve unpredictably, and their melee combat becomes disorienting.

+3 to Constitution while wielded

+2 to Dexterity while wielded

Limitation: Affects the wielder as well. Perception warps; allies and enemies may appear closer or farther than they are.

“Masterwork, and… interesting. Here, take a look.”

Sam turned the Compressed World about as she read the description. “So you hurl it and disorient your foes? And yourself, too?”

“What does the description say?” asked Kársek, tamping down his tobacco.

Sam read it off.

“Hmm.” Kársek considered. “We could give it to Countess Anna. She could throw it from a distance. It sounds like it would only disorient our enemies, and we don’t want her getting too close in the first place. At least, not yet.”

“True!” Sam brightened. “She could hang back, throw it in, and the stat bonuses would be useful at her level, too. We wade in and take advantage of our enemies’ confusion.”

“Sounds like a winner,” grinned Harald, glancing at the dozing countess. “Finally.”

“Check that strange plate,” said Sam. “It looks… I don’t know, exciting because it’s so banal?”

Harald took up the disc. It was heavy, carved from a single piece of milky green jade, and exquisitely smooth to the touch. The runes were precisely carved across its face, and a small groove ran just inside its outer edge.

Artifact: Disc of Hollow Watchers

Quality: Masterwork

Special Ability: Runes of Rebuttal
Activation: When placed, creates a zone that blocks teleportation, divination, and magical intrusion.

+3 to Presence while carried

Limitation: Draws energy from the environment—nearby flora wither, animals flee, and shadows deepen.

“Masterwork, and seems defensive in nature. Blocks teleportation, divination, and magical intrusion.”

Sam’s eyes lit up. “You think it would work against the demons?”

Harald bit his lip as he considered, hope spiking within him. But. “Vorakhar and Eclavistra are on a completely different power level. You think a Rare item could block them?”

Kársek was puffing contentedly at his pipe now, and the herbal scent was comforting in the rust-inflected air. “It might make it easier to avoid their notice in the first place,” the dwarf suggested. “It might not block their active searching for us, but passive awareness?”

“Right,” said Sam. “Anything to keep them away is a good thing.”

“Agreed. Maybe we won’t need Eclavistra’s intervention moving forward to avoid Vorakhar’s notice.”

“And,” said Kársek, pointing at Harald with the stem of his pipe, “it’s no doubt of use against all the House raiders now searching for us.”

“Yes!” Harald sat up straight. “Now that’s for sure. With this and being on the 27th, we should be safe from being found for the foreseeable future. Right?”

Sam shrugged, but looked happy.

“We’ll know soon enough,” agreed Kársek. “But for now, that might actually be our most valuable find.”

“Fantastic. Especially -" Harald felt a thrill. "Especially as the scarecrows use teleportation as one of their key tricks. With this, we can lock them down and make them far easier to kill."

The three of them stared at the disc in wonder.

"Fantastic,” sighed Harald, and passed his hand over the jade surface. "I never thought I'd say this, but thank you, Gorkin." With reluctance he set it aside. "And last but not least, our delightful little skull brooch.”

“I’ve got a bad feeling,” said Sam.

Artifact: Death’s Proxy

Quality: Masterwork

Special Ability: Mortal Bait
Once per day, the brooch may be set down as a decoy. Any nearby death-aligned force or spiritual predator will converge upon it first.

+3 to Constitution while worn

Passive Ability: False Demise

All forms of magical scrying or death-targeting spells register the bearer as having been slain.

Limitation: Each day the brooch is worn, it leeches a thread of life. Over time, the wearer becomes emotionally numb and spiritually dimmed. Removal requires a rite of severance.

“We’re back in Gorkin land,” said Harald, but he couldn’t keep the wonder from his voice. “This is powerful.”

Sam took the brooch, expression one of distaste, and then her eyes widened. “Wow. No kidding. Masterwork, but maybe it even deserves to be Epic.” She read the description to Kársek, who paused his puffing, eyes widening.

“Combined with the Disc, this would give me a double dose of security,” said Harald. “Would it fool Vorakhar? I know, no way to tell. But still.”

“The real value lies in the Mortal Bait Ability,” said Kársek. “Confusing death-aligned forces or predators? Those are the kinds of foes we’d meet farther down into the Dungeon.”

“Right.” Harald took the brooch back and examined the silver skull. Was it grinning? Of course it was grinning. Skulls grinned into eternity. “That’s… yeah.”

“So what do we have of use?” Sam scooted back so she could take in all the Artifacts. “The Ashwright stuff is great: makes incoming attacks seem slower, and the weapon bypasses all mundane parries and armor. Plus incredible stat boosts.”

“The Mourning Thorn throwing star and the Compressed World are great openers for a fight,” said Harald, moving them together. “You take down a host of enemies and confuse the rest.”

“Say we give both to Anna,” said Sam. “That would bestow a +4 to Dexterity and a +3 to Constitution. Not bad.”

“Not bad,” teased Harald. “Kársek’s right. Your Epic level Artifacts have gone to your head.”

Sam glared at him. “The blood dagger and horror club are both powerful but unnerving. Not sure I’d want anybody wielding those.”

“Possibly,” agreed Harald. “Though the dagger’s ability to disrupt Abilities is incredible.”

“Don’t forget it also draws hostile attention. Regardless. Let’s make a weird and horrific pile over here. And add the whip.”

“Definitely add the whip,” agreed Harald, moving Vemereth to the Judgement Slats and Ruby’s Hunger. “The miniature pike is fine. Maybe Anna’s last item? She’ll be on the periphery, and can use it to attack anyone who gets past us.”

“Fair. And the Epic sword?”

Harald considered the giant stone blade with its mesmerizing inner glow. “I could use that. The Dawnblade’s not really up to what we’re facing now. At least, I’d like to try it.”

“Or perhaps Nessa could see it as a vote of confidence,” said Kársek quietly, his tone grave. “She has a nonmagical blade, and the bonus to Ego might fortify her where she’s momentarily weakest.”

Sam frowned as she considered. “Do we want her wrestling with that limitation, though? Growing increasingly detached from reality?”

Kársek shrugged, but gave no response.

“I should take the Death’s Proxy,” said Harald. “People will be searching for me, and if we can avoid Vorakhar’s notice, all the better.”

Both Sam and Kársek nodded.

“And the Disc?” Sam took it up. “With the Thornguard, Eclipse Edge, and Twilight Crown, I’m already carrying three, with the Ashwright gear in reserve for when I free up my Cosmos. You’ve got the Goldchops, Death’s Proxy, and either the Dawnblade or the Chyron’s Scourge. Anna’s got the pike, Compressed World, and the Thorn. I guess it goes to Nessa, then.”

Harald twisted about to look at Nessa. She lay so still she might have been dead. A dark presentiment filtered into his being, and he sighed. “She needs help. When she’s up for it, perhaps one of us can sound her out, see how she’s doing. How much she’s willing to share. Then we can decide whether we should give the Scourge or the Dawnblade. That’ll compliment her Phasic daggers and the Disc.”

Sam nodded, her own concern evident.

“If I may make a suggestion,” said Kársek. “We should establish a semi-permanent base on this level. Somewhere defensible. Nessa needs time to rest, to heal, to recover. We shouldn’t push her into combat just yet. She’d feel obliged to take on the role of Delve Captain, and in her current condition might make mistakes that she’ll only feel greater guilt and regret over.”

“Good idea,” said Harald. “I might do some scouting with Shadowpaw. This is his home turf, after all. I found some hidden rooms the last time I came through here. Maybe I can find something similar.”

“Agreed,” said Sam softly. “I’m just about falling apart myself. Some rest, maybe if even for a day or two, now that we’re protected by the Disc, could really go a long way.”

“Right.” Harald rose to his feet, hesitated, then took up the Scourge and Brooch. “I’ll go take a look around. I'll leave the Brooch and Helm behind. Keep the Disc in case a scarecrow wanders in--it should really help level the playing field."

“Now?” asked Sam, eyes widening. “How can you…?”

“If I hunt in the dark,” said Harald softly, “I’ll be just fine. I won’t be gone long. Kársek, you good to keep watch with Wirmas?”

The dwarf nodded as he puffed on his pipe.

“Then get some rest, Sam.” He reached down to squeeze her shoulder. “I’ll find us somewhere safe.”

Sam went to protest, but bit back the words. She rose smoothly to her feet and hugged him tight again. “Be safe,” she whispered into his ear. “And hurry back to us.”