Rain Harlow
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Chapter 13: Flipping (Off?) the System Deck
🕑 Added 2023-07-19 04:58:22 +0000 UTCTristan Algeros was the founder of the Algeros Oceanic Trading Company, which rose to prominence in an age of sailing and exploration on the world of Oderghaust Merix. He brokered multiple huge trade deals of core resources between his own nation and a foreign power of rich, exotic produce, ushering in greater prosperity for both.
He shook the hands of the highest royalty, led small fleets of merchant vessels across vast stretches, and haggled with men who could have his head on a stick if he didn’t make the right moves at the right time.
His life flashed through Sammy’s mind in bursts and key points, like a biographical summary but through the eyes of the one living it. He was shrewd and ruthless but knew when to compromise or cut his losses. He became rich and his large family with him, and he was devout to a god of Commerce and Opportunity that he prayed to daily.
“User Orsywth Maglion has acquired the special skills [Dealmaker] and [Universal Appraisal]. The Past card resolution is complete.”
As quickly as the flood of memories came, they went. The baron had seemed paralyzed on his feet right up until the memories concluded, at which point he gasped and stumbled, going to his knees.
Sammy caught his arm, though the large, heavy man of muscle and armor was a bit too much for her to stop, so she was carried down with him. She at least lessened his fall with her not-insignificant strength, though she wasn’t sure he could truly be injured in such a place anyway.
“Are you alright, my lord?”
Orsywth didn’t seem to hear, his face haunted and his body shaking. “My family… what became of them?! Did my sons take over? Did my wife survive the illness?! It’s been cut out!”
He got a much more in-depth dive, didn’t he? But not everything.
“You are Baron Orsywth, my lord, not Tristan,” Sammy implored, touching his shoulder. “It is just a memory that was implanted. It’s over now… he’s long dead and I doubt you’ll ever know any more. I’m sorry.”
His eyes looked into hers for a long moment as realization dawned. “Yes…” He ran a hand over his face as he began blinking and nodding to himself, eyes downcast.
“You may flip the card in the Present position when ready.”
As Orsywth regained his bearings, he rose, Sammy helping him, though he likely didn’t need it. “Thank you, Your Majesty,” he said. “I… believe it’s time to do what we came here for. Toss the dice on my immediate fate.”
Despite feeling a deep pang of fear at what would be revealed, Sammy nodded to him firmly, and he returned the gesture just the same.
Positive thoughts, positive thoughts, positive thoughts…
Holding her breath, she turned the Present card over horizontally.
A man in armor in a resplendent chariot, chest emblazoned with a simple square, shoulders glowing with the symbol of the crescent moon, and the contoured pieces in the shape of two faces, one smiling, the other frowning. He carried a scepter and there was a canopy of cloth above his head made out of stars. The chariot was drawn by two sphinxes, one black, one white.
It was upright. Yes!
“The Chariot Major Arcana, upright. You have gained balance over yourself, and through True Will, are your own master. In turn, the physical realm falls in line, bowing to your inner control and power.”
An actual text box appeared in the air, much like the System constructed in the mind.
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The Chariot’s Charge
Any action within the material realm is as conducted by a hero. You have +5 Effective Levels to any task, with a minimum total of level 9. This lasts one hour.
____________________________________________________________
The was a brief pause as they read and stared, then Orsywth thrust a fist up and made a victorious noise. “Ha ha! Level 12, now that’s more than a fighting chance, Your Majesty!”
Sammy hopped and clapped excitedly. “We did it!”
They both laughed exultantly. In the celebratory glee, caught up in the moment, Orsywth took Sammy up in a hug and even spun her around. They were both shocked after one such spin, the baron setting her down quickly and looking embarrassed.
“Forgive me, Your Majesty, I forgot myself…the merchant, his daughter…”
“No, no, It’s” — a memory of her own father spinning her around as a child to her excited laughter — “It’s fine. Really.”
“You may flip the card in the Future position when ready. Note that the effect will be displayed, but its resolution will be on a hidden timer.”
Sammy looked up at the remaining unturned card and felt a lump in her throat. What were the odds of three upright?
I could flip it vertically. Reverse it.
She stared at that card back — the ring and the spiral of the eyes — entirely too long, debating internally.
“It’s alright, Samantha, Goddess of Mirrors,” Orsywth said in a combination of stoicism and cheer. “Positive thoughts, remember.”
Sammy eyed him and nodded. Took a deep breath. Trust the process, trust the choice. “Positive thoughts…”
She turned the Future card horizontally.
A woman robed in white, cradling a lion’s head, one hand on each gaping jaw, perhaps to close it, for her expression was in control and serene. The sign of infinity hovered over her head, a sign that was the same upright or upside down.
But the rest of it was not the same vision upside down at all.
“No!”
“Strength Major Arcana, upside down. You will be overcome with complete weakness of body in the near future, sapped of all physical strength. The effect is permanent and cannot be removed by any means other than additional System Deck effects or reincarnation.”
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Greater Weakness (Permanent)
For the purposes of physical action, your class levels are reduced to -2 (as a child or the very elderly) and cannot be raised by any means above -1.
____________________________________________________________
Sammy gazed at the information in horror. “No, no, you can’t! He’s a warrior, damn you!” She moved right up to the barrier and slammed her hand into the forcefield, which made not a single noise. “Give us a fucking redraw, another shot, anything but that!”
“Thank you for using the System Deck, users. Hopefully, you enjoy the challenges and rewards that have been and will be integrated into your current existence.”
The cards did a little spin while lighting up once, then disappeared.
A thick hand on her shoulder caused her to turn around. “It’s alright, Your Majesty. It will be alright.”
Tearing up again as she met Orswyth’s eyes, Sammy shook her head. “I should’ve flipped the card! I could have — I knew I should have, I knew this would happen — but I was too much of a cowar-”
“Enough!” Two hands were placed on her shoulders as he barked the command firmly, his eyes cast down to hers just as firmly. “You are no coward, so do not speak that way about yourself, my young goddess. And I speak out of turn I know, but the punishment must wait.”
Sammy continued shaking her head, pursing down her lips to control any sobbing, feeling them tremble uncontrollably.
Orswyth’s expression shifted to one of pride as he smiled faintly. “You’ve given me a chance at life, Your Majesty. And you’ve shown me a whole other life I led before, filled with merit and purpose. Love. You’ve given me a priceless gift, a vision of my own eternity. This is all a hundred times the strength that any unlucky draw can deplete, and my gratitude to you is boundless. You have not failed me in the slightest.”
His passionate words touched and sobered her somewhat, though they were hard to accept. She opened her mouth-
“Stand by for psyche re-transmission.”
They were dumped right back into the moment they left, time unfrozen and the cracking sounds of a wooden door being broken through.
Orswyth had an aura of twinkling stars about his head, and a simple, glowing white square in the center of his chest. He dropped the hinged faceplate of his helmet down and hefted his halberd. “Your leave, Your Majesty!”
Exasperated, Sammy called, “Yes, go! Engage! Beat their asses, please!”
“With pleasure.” He charged the men with a sudden, tremendous speed and force, even as they were seemingly just coming through the door. He cried out, “For Samantha! For Lowbarrow!”
She could not see the initial charge, but she heard the crash of weapons and armor and the shouting of soldiers of fortune.
Anxiously, she sought another mirror, but could only find one in the hallway. Her eyes widened at what she saw. It was filled with armed and armored soldiers to the brim, rough men with the air of veteran killers. At the back was a tall figure, clad in heavy black plate, a huge two-handed sword he held in front of him, point down and both hands on the end of the pommel, as if waiting at his ease.
When she canted the mirror at the right angle, she could see Orswyth fighting at the other end, holding them at the doorway and fighting in a whirl of frenetic action. He’d killed or maimed a few men already, as she could see from the bodies. One of them was holding his neck, blood spurting, trying to seek aid from his ‘fellows’, but they callously shoved him away and eventually down for the doomed nuisance that he was.
“Push, all of you dogs!” The black-armored man billowed in command. “Everyone forward! Press and get him into the room to surround him! Push!”
Additional men started repeating the call, and soon the whole lot was pressing forward with loud, nonverbal growls and shouting. More men at the front indeed died from the push in the back and lack of area to defend themselves, but they inevitably forced Orswyth back into the room through momentum, spilling in after him.
Damn it! She once again couldn’t see him.
She switched back to the first mirror, changing the angle as much as possible but still not catching him. She saw a body drop with a terrible groan, and her heart leapt into her throat, but she quickly realized it was an enemy.
I’m relieved at another man being dead. Fuck.
Briefly, she saw the armored back and swinging halberd of Orswyth as he leapt backward — but on a dime, with frightening agility and strength, he pivoted right back forward, and she heard the crunching sound of armor and soon another collapse, unseen but with additional racket: what sounded like a shelf being knocked over.
A couple of men flashed into her vision, well in range of the mirror, as they were apparently trying to flank the baron.
It was at that time she decided to try something she’d had in the back of her mind. Sending a ‘Lookout! Trying something!’ to her Follower’s mind, she weaved a quick illusion: as bright a flash of white light as she could, and as loud of an air horn sound as she could summon to accompany it.
It had the desired effect: the men flinched and cried out from the sudden, jarring oddity, hands coming up partially and stopping their approach for an instant, perhaps expecting magic.
This was all Baron Orswyth needed: one man was immediately stabbed through the eye with the spearpoint. The other, adjusting to defend himself, could not do so before the manifest hero tripped him with the staff end.
Just as he hit the ground, the swinging spike side of the halberd came down with tremendous force right into his heart, piercing through the armor like it was old leather. It even dented in the breastplate from the crushing force of the halberd head brought down with herculean strength.
Fucking hell! He’s massacred like ten men… Sammy was fairly certain that shock and adrenaline were all that kept her from being sick. It was probably all in her head rather than physiological, but it functioned the same.
After another couple of brief exchanges, Orswyth backed up to where he was in full view of the mirror, and a bunch of men were trying to surround him and stab him with spears. Two of the weapons got chopped in half, and one man had the hook of the halberd’s axe blade catch a shaft and throw him off-balance into another soldier — then he got stabbed through the back.
Sammy pulled the mirror flash trick again, timing it with warnings to Orswyth, which caused two more injuries, one a nasty disabling leg wound that had a man moaning and crawling away.
“It’s a magic mirror!”
“Ignore the damn thing! Ain’t seen it throw no lightning or fire, so fuck it!”
The fight became something of slow attrition. No matter what they tried, they could not stick him soundly, and they lost more spears and lives, one by one. They did seem to train themselves not to freak out from the mirror distractions, though the airhorn, wolf howl, Tie Fighter noises, and loud Scooby-Doo laughter still got a few at key moments.
“Wh-what the hell was that demonic laugh?!”
“This place is haunted!”
The Scooby-Doo laugh trips anybody up.
Finally, a bellow came. “Hold, worthless scum!” The great, black-armored man marched forward into view, the men around making way for him to approach. His greatsword was held over a shoulder as he paused before Baron Orswyth, his aura of menace thick in the air.
“A noble stand, Baron,” the imposing figure resounded from within his helm. “But all that stands inevitably falls.”
Orswyth was clearly breathing heavily as he waited with his bloodied halberd in hand. “Well, if it isn’t Sir” — and it was spoken with thick sarcasm — “Danomeir. I didn’t think I warranted the price for the legendary 'King' of Murder.”
Sammy was suddenly pretty sure Scooby-Doo wasn’t going to cut it anymore.
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