Cowen came out of the Todrastea-Biskanta Gate in good mood. The Gate area was just a large-sized cave in the endless ice of the zone. Given the regular comings of Professional Teams for the run at the Legends, it sported a couple of small shacks to the side, built out of wood imported from Todrastea next door. She used that outpost all the time – the entire team had helped build those shacks almost two years ago when they’d started delving all the time.

Unsurprisingly, Abiding Mentor Jack Millard was there to greet the incoming teams. The foremost of the British Scouts and field master was usually the first to arrive when a raid was called. So, unless Cowen and the team were already in-zone, they’d find him upon arrival. She clasped his wrist.

“Heard you were back from London despite the closure. But… four levels? What have you been doing all these months?”

“Some rescue mission. In the Labyrinth,” she replied.

“And who would be needing rescue? You can’t get lost or stuck, and if you wiped, the resurrection time is over within a few hours, long before you can arrive.”

She explained about the Adapted Team as they headed to one of the wood houses.

“What’s your feelings about them?” he asked.

“Good kids. Even accounting for their bonus, their levelling was insanely fast. No resting for weeks in a row, smashing into lairs until they broke them. They learned not to die, but that didn’t make them afraid. And their Adjustment means they can potentially catch up to us quickly.”

Millard expressed his doubts: “By then, we’ll have moved on to tier-eight.”

“And I wouldn’t bet against them getting ahead at that point. They bear watching out if they keep at it.”

“Will they?”

“Not sure. Sims and Heard, they’re the fans. Liked the idea of the Labyrinth before they even got shanghaied. They’ve also got a former mudlark, Raby. The rest is doubtful, but they’re in their sixties now. It’s a bit harder to resist the idea of getting more powerful when you get a good taste. If they don't lose the Mender, they’ll make a fast-track team.”

They found another team seated and drinking when they entered the house, but not one Cowen had expected.

“Since I had no idea if you could make it, I brought in Lucinda Keating’s to help for the sides. They ran Todrastea last month to qualify, and a couple of lairs in there to feel the zone.”

“Stealing my lairs, Jack?”

He snorted.

“Still, more people, fewer completions. Bollocks.”

“About that, I have an idea. You’ll see”.

 

 

The assembled Professionals were now massed in front of a large stone wall, bisecting a gigantic cavern in the ice. The entrance gate into the wall was open, with two sets of armour standing on both sides of the gate, separate pieces of plate floating with a handspan between them and emptiness within.

 

 

“Okay people, we’re going to do things differently this time. We’re making a single normal-sized team for the three Ancient guardian encounters. The rest of the raid will not engage them at all. Then we’ll assemble the full team only at the Legend. I think that may ensure more completions than the usual method.”

Murmurs rose among the Professionals. Cowen was surprised as well. That was… new.

“So, we’re going to draw lots. Six slots, one defensive build, one support, two heavy damage, two utilities. If you already have completion of the Keep or Nexus, you sit out. Loot remains normal rules.”

 

 

 

The huge animated suit of armour wielded its usual twin of Cowen’s own sword. Despite the appearances, she hadn’t obtained from the Legend itself of course, but the ornate chest set in the stone of the courtyard behind it. The armour and weaponry would rust and turn to dust the same way living enemies did once defeated, or earth elementals crumbled once at zero health. But outside of that Labyrinth peculiarity, Donvario guarded the same, functional pieces of gear he used.

As usual, the enormous metal gate behind the Keeper was closed. Despite beating that giant armour multiple times, it always remained locked. Nobody knew what was behind… if anything was. Sometimes, part of the lairs were mere scenery, doors to nowhere, unmovable pantries.

Cowen’s team dissolved and she felt the invitation to the general team, immediately accepting. Additional various team bonuses raised up her vitals and the values immediately inched upward. Millard waited a bit until everyone’s vitals were close to their maximum.

“Okay everyone, get ready to go into positions. We engage in thirty seconds. We’re more than enough, I don’t want any deaths this time. Notably among the completion team. I’d hate to waste all that effort.”

For all the bluster from her boss, Cowen didn’t think it would be any easier. Legends were anything but fully predictable. The last run had seen yet another new skill used against them for the first time.

But now wasn’t the time to worry about that. She moved to the edge of the group, eyeing the right-side stairs. She might not get to engage directly with the Keeper unless necessary, but she would still have her fill with work to do.

Donvario’s Oppressive presence: -1 mind per second, -1 FOR.

And it begins. Like most high-end guardians, the Keeper had an aura that came on once attacked and covered the entire keep, and it would become harder and harder. Her regeneration negated the first effect for now, but with every moment, it would grow in power. More and more mind lost, more and more potential decrease… make that multiple different potentials soon. But with over 30 Professionals in the team, they’d have less risk of getting wrecked by the penalties before the end.

She ran to the bottom of the twin stairs, just in time for the first notification.

Donvario raises the alarm. The Gate is under attack!

 

 

Half of her skills would be useless against the animated armours, but that didn’t mean she’d be disarmed. Both Shock Touch and Lightning Grasp did work wonders to catch the attention of a metallic critter.

The creature whirled, its sword bending in paths through the air that didn’t make practical sense, more flourish than effective-looking attack. She interposed her Flat Blade, her own arm almost ringing under the impact. Now that the summoned guard was intercepted and busy, she risked a look at the main target. Beams of light bathed the centre of the courtyard, as Inevitable Wall Howard Cameron danced between the outpourings of energy. As she watched, one of the main fighters got clipped by one of the nearly solid light bars, losing instantly over 6000 of his health, close to 15%.

Then the rest of her team moved in and started whaling on the armour. The armour she’d been fighting fell apart in pieces. Waldo Aubert focused back its attention on the Keeper, trying to catch it in action without moving from his post at the stairs. Multiple Notice Attacks and similar avoidance wouldn’t help the main defenders, but any attack at a distance avoided was better than none. Emory Foale twirled his swords idly, waiting for the next assault. Myrl Douglas turned and started launching a stream of Fireblasts toward the distant target. Habborlain was keeping close to the action, watching carefully the main fighters as they danced between the lights.

This was the hardest part at the beginning. It was easy to lose sight of the main threat – the Keeper itself – while you were trying to avoid its primary defences. She checked her status.

Donvario’s Oppressive presence: -10 mind per second, -12 FOR, -9 DEX.

So far, so good. Although the oppression was now enough to overwhelm her regeneration, that wasn’t threatening still. As she watched, a -1 STR added itself to the aura. Then a new set of Guards rushed down the twin stairs, and she had no time to watch the main scene.

“INCOMING!!!” Cameron bellowed.

With the armour still whaling on her, she couldn’t do much, but she raised Shielding, covering most of the extended team close to her. Shrapnel from the Keeper’s blow lanced all across the courtyard, the burning damage only partially absorbed in most cases. A handful of sparks bounced on her armour, leaving burning sensations despite the metal.

She snorted as she started to reduce the notifications with her own Cleanse Poison. Only in the Labyrinth could some lingering burns be classified somehow in the same category as poisons, which the various support teams would remove from the ones who didn’t have that option. She wouldn’t have the opportunity to remove the shrapnel if the damage wrought kept increasing, but for now…

Everyone got knocked down, as waves of dark energies poured suddenly from the imposing Keeper figure. Aether users weren’t too much affected by this effect, but everyone lost around 20% of their endurance in a second, weariness settling on their limbs. She grimaced as she saw her own total plunging. You couldn’t predict that effect coming off, and it always hurt to see those reserves go.

She spotted the new set of reinforcements and started to rush the stairs.

 

 

Anytime you got helpers, trouble followed. They would counter most of the curses laid by the team on their master, start to regenerate its copious health…

On top of the stairs, she wasted no second using Freeze Limb and Deflect Attention. Anything to avoid the helper work for his master’s benefit. Waldo, Emory and Myrl popped from the stairs a few instants later, throwing everything at the target. Habborlain, of course, didn’t follow, being busy with the main action. She’d live through that anyway. The armour suit started to throw minor ice spells in her direction, showing that she’d achieved her objective of distracting from helping the Legend.

She ignored the freezing blows, risking a look at the looming figure in the courtyard.

 

 

That massive health was slowly dropping, but most of the team was still fresh, with stamina and aether to spare, and focused. She noticed another animated armour starting to go down the stairs opposite her, and ran, jumping over the corner to catch it below before it rushed the main team.

Waldo and Emory caught with her, as Myrl hurled fiery streaks straight down from the top of the stairs, not bothering to move. Then a bolt of ice crashed into her. She fell from the stairs, swinging round and catching herself with her hand at the last second on the edge. Cowen’s head turned, spotting a new enemy atop the other side of the courtyard.

 

 

Flexible Shieldmaker Jules Rouse was already running upstairs to tackle the elite. But the enemy didn’t keep firing at Myrl; rather he threw a variety of spells all over the place. Her Spellthrower teammate used that time to hoist herself back on the stairs and resume shucking more Fireblasts at the main target.

“INCOMING!!!”

More shrapnel fell on everyone, as the immense armour extended its fist to impossible lengths, slamming into the ground. Cowen checked and breathed, seeing as this version was still within her ability to cleanse… albeit barely, with one single level of margin out of her 143 limit from Wisdom. Next shrapnel, goodbye self-cleanse, she thought.

As she was finishing, the Keeper raised its sword toward the ceiling of the ice cave.

“Bollocks, new finisher,” Foale breathed.

Lightning started to course along the length of the giant version of the Armament. Millard yelled, “All protections up! Be ready for any…”

The very next second, Cowen found herself on the ground… and in the middle of the courtyard. She saw, on her peripheral vision, Myrl fall hard on the ground, pulled from her post atop the stairs. Judging by the large drop, not just in health, but in maximum health, she’d suffered some concussive damage from the fall. The support team started working overtime to compensate.

“Cowen, you’re up! Cameron’s too wounded!”

She didn’t wait to check her team, leaving them to crawl/run out of the centre. Instead, she launched a volley of abilities at the gigantic keeper who was still trying to bring its sword onto Cameron.

Donvario’s Oppressive presence: -21 mind per second, -37 FOR, -29 DEX, -22 STR, -15 FOC, -11 INT, -2 WIS.

For a few seconds, it looked like the Keeper would finish the Wall, but at last, it turned toward her.

You slash Donvario, Keeper of the Grey: 430 (804-374) lightning damage (3744 armour).

I hate armour, she reflected. That was the problem fighting armoured enemies, like… well, magical suits of armour. Defence rating didn’t work well on her sword, but armour absorbed everything well. Most of the Labyrinth enemies had nothing or laughable defences. The ones in the Keep? Not so much laughable. Noticeably in the case of Donvario itself.

Despite a large number of people in the team’s descriptor, she noticed that Habborlain’s mind was dropping fast. Faster than the aura accounted for. He had such an enormous amount – and she couldn’t entirely fault the Physics propensity for that particular vital – and this let him use readily that unused of all skills, Aetheric Mind, to convert one into the other, but for that to happen already… the team had to be getting roughed. She didn’t have time to check the full status.

A new helper popped atop the stairs on the right side, but it was no longer her problem. Someone – possibly Cameron himself, propped back enough to be of use – would tackle the support.

 

 

The Armament rose again, and lightning started to course again along its length. Millard yelled something she barely caught. She did something new.

She bent her left leg, bracing herself on her knee.

She saw – as an after-effect – the lightning running across the courtyard. Grabbing the team, shaking them like cloth puppets. But she stood her ground, sword raised in a block. Her own Armament vs Armament.

She rose immediately, dumping the last bits of her aether into skills.

“Aether out. Waiting for regeneration,” she called out of the fight leader. Jack didn’t give any indication, but she knew by experience he’d noted. He didn’t call for any defender to replace her, meaning he’d thought her good.

She eyed the 15-feet tall armour in front of her. Give me my due, piece of junk. That’s all I want. Well, that, and maybe another of your treasures.

 

 

You have completed Biskanta Keep of the Grey Gate Lair.

Cowen whooped loudly, throwing arms up despite the lead feeling in her limbs. And, from the look of it… three others had obtained the same notification. Foale and Aubert were still out, not having been picked for the ancients’ team, but her team had inched a bit closer to that tier-six zone.

Millard clapped, getting everyone’s attention.

“Okay. It looks like we’re onto something here. Even if we have one dead. We’ll do the Nexus of Frost tomorrow with the same setup – capped six-team then full team. If that works out again, it will be the official form for the raids from now on. We might be able to finally unlock Duparheim properly for all of you within a year.”

He then added, “And me. Next raid time, I roll along with you on team membership.”

 

 

 

There was a collective groan when the second gear was announced. But then, you got what you got, and even a half-tier artefact might sometimes be better than a full heroic.

There was also an orb. An Ebony Rough Stone Orb this time.

 

 

 Nobody knew what those things were for, but all of the Legendary fights had one in their treasure boxes. They seemed to be nothing more than achievement trophies, listed as Artefacts because the Legends didn’t guard anything lesser, not even Puppets. Donvario had guarded five orbs, five totally different ones. And now six. Like all of those, this one would go to the Archives, for the off-chance that someone figured out how to make some sort of use out of them.

Myrl Douglas failed to win the lottery for the robe, which went to Weighty Spellthrower Margie Rutter, but she went to remark: “The first time I’ve seen this Aether Strangle anywhere. I’m curious what it is.”

“Lower boost in rank on it, so it sounds like it’s a tier 7 skill maybe? Or a difficult tier 6?” Aubert hypothesized.

“Doesn’t matter. We got what we needed,” Cowen said.

“Speak for yourself,” Douglas replied good-naturedly. “You already have two Artefacts from that stupid armour.”