What can be said about the He Who Halts Eternity: Valor Thann?

Oh, yes, dear reader. Valor Thann is not some myth made by the Pathless and the enslaved to comfort themselves, to imagine the undying lords of the Abyssal Lands also having someone they fear. He is real. I have met him, and though he remains temporarily absent, the great hero will return!

Though the world might seem unjust and sometimes foul, I want you to take heart: The flames of justice burn yet. Dimly, but still do they burn. For though the tyrants are many and monsters lurk around every corner, consequence might yet find them, for one still seeks to make right what has been set wrong.

–He Who Halts Eternity: Valor Thann

9 (I)

Dagger

“Hello,” Shiv said, eyeing the stone dagger in his hand curiously. This was the second time that day he found himself talking to what he assumed to be an inanimate object. The presence he felt with the dagger earlier stirred, as if whatever was inside could sense him. “Can you hear me?”

“You are not Nomos,” the dagger said. Their voice was masculine, their tone careful and measured. The speaker pronounced each syllable with such fine focus that they reminded Shiv of the orators that came to speak and debate in Blackedge’s public forums. He would have liked to hear those speakers in more detail, but he had to do it in shadows or from afar. People left when he approached. “Who are you? And where is Nomos?”

Shiv gave the fallen Umbral a final look and shook his head. He didn’t see a point in lying. “She died. So did the others. A high vampire attacked us. I was…” Shiv kept his part in the story vague. “I was lost when they found me, and they were about to lead me out. I did what I could to help them survive the attack, but the high vampire was…”

“Too much for them?” the speaker finished with a weary sigh.

“Yeah,” Shiv answered. “But me and Nomos managed to finish the felling bastard off before the fight was done. I crushed his heart in front of him. The Umbrals didn’t die easy deaths.”

The speaker snorted at that. “Ah. I appreciate your efforts at adding a dash of glory to this brutal butchery, but dead is dead to me, I’m afraid. That is the nature of life for most, fleeting as it is. The sisters struggled. The sisters fought. The sisters died. I will remember their efforts—and perhaps you will as well—but that is faint consolation for them now.”

Of everything he expected the dagger to say, this wasn’t it. The words weren’t cruel, but they were casually cold and grimly accepting of the world’s depravities. “I think the way we die still matters. It shows who we are in the end. Sometimes, that’s the only thing the world can’t take from us.”

The dagger let out a laugh. “Ah, you dabble slightly in the thoughts of the overman, don’t you?”

“Overman?”

“A philosophy of thought. That the true manifestation of meaning in an ultimately meaningless world can be achieved when one grinds their will against the uncaringness of existence and asserts themselves. The man in the arena, so to speak.”

“I’m not really much of a philosopher. Never found all those words interesting. It’s like saying a lot but meaning very little to me sometimes. The words sounded pretty, though.”

Once more, the blade chuckled. “Ah, I see. Yes, reading poor works does demoralize a person from seeking more of the philosophies. But that can be changed. Ah. Where are my manners? I am Valor Thann. I have many names, but this is the one I prefer above all others. I assure you: Whatever you heard of me is greatly embellished, for the legend is often greater than the man, but truth, likewise, is stranger than fiction.”

This might be the most well-spoken dagger Shiv ever held. Well, it was also the only speaking dagger he ever held, so that technically also made it the least well-spoken. But still, it felt like there was a scholar trapped somewhere in the blade. “I’m Shiv,” the Deathless began. “That’s my name.”

“Just Shiv?”

“It’s something I picked for myself. I won’t answer to anything else.”

“I understand. And I can respect that. Well, Shiv. It seems we are both in a predicament. You sound like you are lost. And the fact that you haven’t told me more about yourself—or which of the Five Fallen Faiths you are aligned with—makes me believe that you do not trust me. I cannot blame you. The stories of me are many, after all.”

Shiv didn’t know any stories about any Valor Thann, but he nodded along. Then he stopped, feeling rather silly. The blade could hear him, but it didn’t have eyes. It probably couldn’t see him… Could it? “Yeah. Predicament might be right. But, uh… I took a bad fall before getting lost down here, and my memory isn’t what it is was.

“Oh. That’s not good. Have you experienced any seizures? Fallen unconscious randomly recently? How long ago was this fall?”

“Fell about a day ago. And no, I’m mostly fine.”

“Hm. You’re quite fortunate. Brain damage and internal bleeding require the delicate touch of a skilled Biomancer to mend.”

Shiv pressed his lips together. Well, he was a Biomancer now, just nowhere near a skilled one. He warred internally over letting the blade know about his new skill, but he guessed that it couldn’t do much harm. “I am a Biomancer. Just… very recent. It’s a new skill.”

“Congratulations. Attuning your soul to a lore of magic usually takes significant exposure. Be proud of this accomplishment.”

And Shiv was. He smiled slightly at the dagger. “Thanks. You know, you’re one of the nicer people I’ve talked to in the past day or so. It’s kind of strange that you’re a knife.”

“Oh, no, I’m not the knife. I’m merely trapped inside this relic. Caged, if you will. Hence the title ‘Cage of Valor Thann.’”

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

Now Shiv was curious. “How does someone get caged in a knife?”

“Now that is something I would ask you not to pry into. Yet. Just as you have been vague about your past, so must I. There are some bits of paranoia that remain warranted between us, no?”

That was understandable for Shiv. It was surprising how easy and enjoyable a conversation with someone was when they weren’t screaming for you to get away from them, shouting at you to cook faster, or sneering at you for being born wrong. Apparently, there were still polite people left in the world. “Alright. Well. It’s been fine to meet you, Valor, but I think we need to get moving.”

“Quite. The presence of a high vampire means that a coven is likely in the area. A coven means that their rivals are nearby. We should be gone from here indeed.”

A feeling of haste filled Shiv. He looked down at Nomos’s body and winced. “Doesn’t feel too right to just leave the Umbrals here. I don’t think I can burn them either—”

“Don’t do that!” Valor almost yelled. “They will take grave offense at being condemned to the light. Such a thing is reserved for traitors and those who commit grave sins.”

Shiv paused. Most people who died at Blackedge were cremated and cast to the winds. That was supposed to be a great honor, signifying freedom. “Really?”

“Indeed. You must have fallen hard or far to be ignorant of this.”

The Deathless winced. His lack of knowledge was getting in the way of things. The more he spoke to Valor, the more he revealed what he didn’t know. “I—yeah, sorry. Thanks for stopping me from… heresy.”

“You are quite welcome. Now. Do you have a weapon capable of Cryomancy? Or, if you are blessed to be so talented, are a Cryomancer yourself? It’s not the same as the Composer’s Stillfrost, but it will be close enough that the sisterhood will not take offense.”

“No. Sorry. I just got Bio—wait.” Shiv looked to Nomos’s spear lying nearby. Its tip was still glowing. “I can try to use Nomos’s spear. That channeled frost earlier, but I don’t know if it can still do magic without Nomos.”

A pause came from inside the dagger. “Of course it can. An enchanted weapon will continue to bear its invested mana unless it is extracted by a Pathbearer sharing similar skills.” There was no rancor in Valor’s voice, but he did sound rather surprised Shiv didn’t know this.

A faint flush of embarrassment came over Shiv. “Yeah, you’re going to have to help me out here with this. The whole magic thing is new to me.” He paused. “So is being a Pathbearer, to be honest.”

“Truly? You only recently found your Path? Earned or bestowed—wait, I apologize. Don’t answer that, it’s very private. Don’t tell me of your Path yet unless you feel like you trust me, either. But still, to face a high vampire so soon…”

“I got a lot of Toughness. And the little bit of Biomancy helped too.”

“Yes. Quite remarkable.” There was a tinge of doubt in Valor’s voice, but the man within the dagger moved on. “Now, what you should do first is take what you need from the fallen Umbrals. You can claim their weapons and general equipment without much issue, but I would recommend that you leave their armor and bodies generally unchanged if you can. Bodies are sacred to the Umbrals; they consider their physical vessels to be gifts meant for the Composer—vessels of rebirth.”

Shiv nodded. “Alright. Got it.”

He picked Nomos up and placed her in a corner. He put the other three fallen Umbrals beside her. Shiv felt a bit bad about Utti, though. “Hey, Valor, one of the Umbrals got… obliterated by the high vampire. Is that going to be a problem?”

“Oh. That is a pity. The Composer will mourn for that sister twice over. But there is nothing for it now.”

The Deathless proceeded with his task. The first thing he took from the Umbrals was their equipment rigs. He strapped three different belts lined with containers, pouches, and empty quivers over himself. He found a half-finished Potion of Regeneration inside one—or at least one that glowed the same way. They also carried strange skeletal keys, an assortment of camping equipment, utility knives, and bits of rough-looking jerky. It was a paltry haul on the utility side, and Shiv wondered if they were lacking supplies.

“Take their brooches and leave them in random locations when you go,” Valor suddenly said. “The high vampire found you suddenly, yes? The Bloodspawn just appeared?”

Shiv paused. “Yeah. Didn’t even hear him and the lesser vampires until they were right in front of us.”

“Then assume that local communications have been compromised. The Court of the First Blood might very well have a Diviner tracking you as we speak.”

Something inside Shiv dropped a bit. Diviners could do that? Broken Moon, there was a lot he didn’t know—damn Roland Arrow for keeping him restrained all his life. Shiv wondered how much he could have known if he had just been allowed the information most people had while he was growing up. He paused at that thought. He considered the bestiary’s details on the high vampire, and frowned. Maybe most people didn’t know that much either.

For all that was written about the vampire’s foul blood magic, what he faced was Biomancy—the skill he got from surviving the effects over and over again was Biomancy.

Propaganda or genuine ignorance? Shiv wondered.Could be both by this point. He knew the Republic lied about plenty of things—like how there were no homeless in its kingdom. Shiv definitely didn’t have a home for a good few years. He got very good at learning which alleys had dumpsters filled with the freshest food, and which ones blunted the wind the most during winter.

Shiv collected the brooches and managed to find a revolving metal-ringed mechanism holding a shifting pointer at its core. The needle pointed away from him and toward a wall, and Shiv assumed this to be the compass Nomos was talking about. Useful, but he still didn’t know what he was walking into or who he was supposed to take this to. Weaveresses. Broken Moon, he had a lot to learn.

Now, for the best part of the looting—the weapons. He left Nomos’s spear for last, and went over what the others had first. Utti’s bow had shattered in half when she burst, unfortunately, so that was useless. He managed to find three of her daggers and examined their quality. He was astonished to find that they were made from some kind of glowing blue crystal, and the edges were sharp enough to sink clean through rock. It still felt a bit brittle, though. Best be careful when using these in combat.

He found a shortsword on the Umbral he couldn’t tell was male or female, but it seemed like a pretty typical shortsword. Not bad. Well-made even. Steel from the feeling. A shortsword was better than having no sword. Shiv faintly recalled the Umbral having a longsword as well, but couldn’t find it for the life of him. The last Umbral beside Nomos had a mace. Shiv let out a grunt of surprised effort when he tried to pick it up.

Equipment Obtained: [The Pendulum of Burdens]

Tier: Initiate

Condition: Severely Damaged

Composition: Moonsteel

Enchantments > Mass-Storing

It felt like he was carrying something that weighed as much as the angler beast from earlier in his hands. Shiv took an awkward step as he trudged about. That Umbral’s Physicality must have been pretty high for an Initiate to swing this. Shiv thought he might be able to fling this about, but it mostly just slowed him. It was also kind of bent and cracked all over. It was a shame, but he left it with the Umbral.

Movement was life, stillness was death. And Shiv intended to make his enemies work to kill him, even if dying was to his benefit.

Finally, there was Nomos’s spear, and as he picked it up, he felt a surge of coldness rush up his hands.

Equipment Obtained: [The Scorn of Umetia]

Tier: Adept

Condition: Damaged

Composition: Nightglass

Enchantments > Cryomancy 30

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