Source & Soul: A Deckbuilding LitRPG

After the field demonstration we were marched around camp and shown the various facilities. They included a large open-air training area with a series of raised seats on two sides for viewing; the Lecture Hall where our sit-down classes would be held; a line of smiths in adjoining boxy buildings, each with the symbol for Soul, Spell, or Relic engraved above the entry to denote their specialty. There were also some Artisans in a different building across the way who had magical items for sale.

General Edaine explained that in our fortification, and also the neighboring one of wood, all purchases were handled using a merit system, no coin. We would earn a merit a day for simply being part of War Camp, which I thought was generous – my first paying job! Even if it was not true money – but Hull and the dwarves looked less than impressed. The real opportunities, Edaine said, would come from the merits awarded when someone performed exceptionally well during our training, standing far above their peers, which got the fourteen of us looking rather critically at one another: five tournament winners, three deepkin, three elves, and three paladins in training.

We were certainly a varied group, and many of my new classmates appeared quite capable, but I had faced more competition in the Rising Stars Tournament and so was confident in my chances – as soon as I got my deck in order, that was. My bunkmate, E’lal, was speaking to a strikingly beautiful elf girl with green hair a shade lighter than his own, the color I had seen used for seafoam in oil paintings. They somehow sensed my attention and both turned to regard me while we continued to follow Edaine. I waved cordially to show I meant no harm, but they didn’t return the gesture, perhaps not recognizing it for what it was. Eventually, they resumed their conversation, and I tried not to let myself dwell on the awkwardness of the exchange. Surely, I hadn’t ruined my chances of speaking with E’lal later about his cards, had I? I also tried not to feel badly for noticing how attractive the elf girl was when Esmi walked practically at my side. I was merely observing a fact, not engaging in anything purposely salacious. Twins take me, there couldn’t be anything wrong with that, could there?

Our temporary home also had a host of additional living quarters beyond the ones the fourteen of us were using and the central tower that was for upper ranks only. Even though the fortification had been erected barely an hour ago, people were bustling up and down the metal lanes with an impressive air of familiarity. Many of them, like the smiths and some wheelwrights I spotted, looked to already be settled in much more thoroughly than I had managed in my own room yet.

Lastly, Edaine brought us to the Mess Hall, a space nearly as long as the encampment itself, where everyone took their meals together. A massive kitchen made up one side of the rectangular structure, and, much like the inhabitants, it was already in full swing, fragrant steam billowing out from the ovens, pots, and open flames in use. Basic fare was free, and served three times a day: when the sun rose, set, and when it was at its zenith. If we wanted food at different times or speciality items, they could be purchased with merits.

I found it hard to believe that anyone would waste the opportunity to buy or upgrade cards on something as mundane as a meal until Edaine treated us all to an early dinner with a pile of wooden merit tokens. The course was bread as soft as down, succulent steak, steamed root vegetables seared in butter and thyme, with a glass of perfectly paired red wine. The general gave no speeches as we were served, but the quality of the food and the surrounding company made it feel like one all the same. Everyone dug into the meal with appetite, except for the deepkin who first ground some dark spices into the meat with their knuckles and added small, ruddy mushrooms to their wine before tucking in.

During it all, I exchanged a few words with Hull, but he seemed largely distracted, which I made a conscious choice not to take personally. Knowing him, he likely didn’t feel comfortable with so many people around, but he and I would have plenty of other opportunities to catch up over the next month, I was sure. I’d be seeking his opinion out sooner than that, of course, but there was something comforting in knowing that my friend would be much easier to find for the foreseeable future.

Afi, who was sitting nearly as stiff-backed as Gerad was at the end of the table, eventually asked Edaine about seeing her Mythic set of armor, like the woman had earlier promised.

The general smirked, as if she had known it was only a matter of time until the question was raised, and casually dismissed each piece in turn: the helm she had sat upon the table, the sword and shield she had strapped to her back, and then finally the suit of armor she wore. It would take some time for the cards to cycle back to her Mind Home, and we lost ourselves in a delectable double chocolate cake infused with rum while we waited. If I hadn’t known better, I would have sworn the cooks here were serving us their very best to convince us to spend our merits again with them in the future.

By the time the servers were clearing plates, Edaine had started passing the four green-bordered cards around. I had already seen them thanks to my soul ability, but getting to watch people rock back in their seats when they saw the combined effect of the set was a treat.

“Pay ability?” Hull said when the first of the cards reached him. “That means you could summon a whole slew of ‘em, just like that fellow did with the troggies.” The fact that he had spotted the potential of it right away made me feel proud for some reason.

“That I could,” Edaine answered with a twitch of a smile.

Even without wearing her armor or arms, the general cut an imposing figure, her hair in an intricate, tightly woven plait; her shoulders not stiff, but solid; and a gaze that looked unshakable, as if worry could not touch her. The fact that she could also bring forth a veritable army of spirits, that, due to their Mythic nature, could likely persist for months on end, only made her all the more impressive. That she had been commissioned to be our supervising general by the king was a great boon for us. And, despite the mixed feelings I had about Hestorus’s treatment of Hull, or even aspects of his ruling of Treledyne, I was grateful for his choice in this particular matter.

When the meal was over, and Edaine had collected her cards, she placed another stack of square-shaped wooden merits on the table.

“Have another round if you want, but only one. You’ll be up early, and that’s when the fun begins.” Her wide smile made the statement seem half a threat, but I was as eager as I’d ever been.

Esmi promptly asked if I wanted to join her and Anya – a paladin recruit with a dash of freckles across her cheeks – to peruse what the smiths were selling before they closed, which they apparently did at the first bell after dark. However, I explained about my previous engagement with E’lal and the opportunity it represented.

Esmi radiated excitement at the news and made me promise to give a full report later, and I extracted the same from her about what she saw at the smiths. We kissed and it wasn’t until she and Anya were gone that I noticed the extra attention I seemed to be getting from the foreign recruits. Everyone from the Rising Stars Tournament knew about my relationship with Esmi, but I realized that we had just declared an alliance of a sort to all those remaining.

“Don’t let them bother you,” Hull grunted from my other side. Despite the table, plate, utensils, and even floor all being made of metal, he had somehow managed to find a toothpick from somewhere – perhaps a dwarf – and was poking around his teeth, making horrible sucking sounds. If anything, he was getting just as much attention as I was.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” I replied, keeping my voice low, though I supposed there was little need for that.

“Good,” he said, eying me and then rose. “Well, I’m off to bed.”

“That’s fairly early for you, isn’t it?”

He looked at me suspiciously for half a heartbeat and then seemed to remember who I was, relaxing. “I got on a different schedule these last few weeks. I’ll tell you more about it later. Promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” I said, pointing at him to show I meant business. I cheapened the image some by smiling; I just couldn’t seem to help how good it felt to have him around again.

“Yeah,” he said, mirroring me at least a little. “I know you will.”

With the two I was closest to gone or on their way out, it was time I found E’lal. He and the other elves had moved away, sitting at a nearby table, but when I approached, the others left with flat looks at me. I tried not to let my nerves show as I sat down across from him.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” I ventured.

“You are not,” E’lal replied, easing my worries. “However,” – he looked side-to-side somewhat suspiciously – “ I would prefer to engage in our exchange of information within the confines of our room. Is that acceptable?”

“Perfectly so.” I knew some of what he was feeling; Gale hadn’t shown himself during our tour or dinner. Perhaps he was entertaining the older representatives who had come with the elves and deepkin and would be occupied for the rest of the evening. Even so, I couldn’t shake the feeling that any moment he would appear behind me, acting as if there was no trouble between us when nothing could have been further from the truth.

Happy to avoid such a possibility, I stood with E’lal, heading toward the nearer exit when something occurred to me.

“One moment, please,” I said.

I returned to our original dining table, which was still occupied by a handful of recruits. Where Edaine had left it, minus a few tokens, was the stack of merits. Without hesitating, I plucked the top one off of the stack.

“What d’ya think ur doin’?” the nearest dwarf grumped at me, both of his pebbly hands wrapped around his wine cup.

“The general said we could have another drink or not,” I said, plucking two more merits from the stack, which raised bumpy brows among all the deepkin. “I do not wish to, so I am taking one back for me, my fiancee, and my bunkmate, since neither of them are partaking either.”

I swore the closest dwarf – a mound of a fellow with shoulders so round they looked like boulders – was going to stop me but then he lurched a hand toward the leftover stack.

“Oy!” another deepkin said, “‘yuv already had another!”

The third dwarf, a woman, and the two remaining paladins began to bicker, but it was Gerad I noticed, still sitting at the far end of the table. He watched the exchange with disgust before standing and walking out of the hall. It was odd how naked he looked to me without his usual hanger-ons, Losum and Reginald. I wondered why he didn’t have his Legendary Kitsanya summoned, at the least. Perhaps the king had barred him from behaving so during the Camp; perhaps he had even taken the card away from him.

The possibility would make my life much easier if I were to duel him, but if he was to be my fellow on the battlefield, I wished him to have access to his most effective tools. Not quite sure what to make of that new conundrum in my life, I made my way back to E’lal’s side.

“Here you are,” I said, presenting him with a merit.

The elf eyed the wooden piece and me before nodding. “My gratitude,” he said, tucking it into a pocket. “Now let us be on our way. I look forward to seeing what a mind that reasons as yours does has created.”

“Ah, well,” I said, laughing somewhat nervously, “it’s still a work in progress, so… be kind.”

* * *

Lights were being put up in hinged metal lanterns that appeared to be a fixture of the city by industrious workers. Seeing how expertly they were preparing the fortification for the evening proved yet again that, while the use of the Mythic to create this location had been a surprise to us, it had most certainly not been to countless others, what with a veritable army of professionals and supplies at the ready to descend on and quickly transform it into a functioning city.

Back in our room, E’lal halted after opening the door, face stricken. I peeked past him to see if we had been robbed, but all I saw was a pleasant fire crackling in the metal hearth.

“Someone has been here,” he whispered, eyes squinted and searching, as if the intruder might still be about.

“A cleaner, no doubt,” I explained, gently moving past him into the room to show that it was safe. “Like the servers in the Dining Hall.”

“Yes,” E’lal allowed, slowly joining me, though looking on more comfortable. “My traveling companions and I already spoke about that oddity. We had assumed it would be localized to that one building, but I see that was an error in judgment.”

“I’m sure there is a steward in charge of such things. I can find them tomorrow and ask them to no longer service our room,” I offered.

“Again, I must thank you,” he said, finally closing the door and sitting cross legged on the metal floor. “The sharing of spaces is common in A’dinn’uon, but only among those who know each other. Not… strangers.”

“It’s no trouble,” I said, glad to be able to make up for any previous faux pas between us. I quickly joined him on the floor, practically itching to see what sort of cards he might have. “Shall we begin?”

“Yes, and due to your hospitality on more than one occasion, allow me to begin. Before that, though, there is something you should know. Each of us from my city is focused heavily on a particular type of card. I specialize in empowering effects, both for myself and for my fellows.”

“Enhancement,” I said, thinking of the book I had recently read through.

“Yes,” Elal agreed, “that is a word for it.” He then began removing cards from behind his ear, and was up to a handful before placing the first between us.

“This is one of the cards that came to mind when you asked about Air,” he said. “Being able to turn any Soul into a defender against their many Flying Souls is quite useful.”

“Very true,” I said. Getting to see my brother Gale’s Hawk during the training exercise had been rather frightening to behold.

Not to mention the enhancement Spell of his own that he had been using at the time.

The idea of being struck for potentially 16 damage – taking 8 twice due to the Hawk’s Flurry – not to mention Gale himself since his Soul ability and Artifact combination surely gave him Flying, was an unpleasant thought. Without my mother’s Ice Walls, I would only be able to defend against Flying with my Carrion Condors and Atrea, and as it stood, any of them would be shredded by the Hawk. However, using Canopy Climber on my Master Assassin would lead to an even trade between the two Souls.

E’lal was far from done, placing more Spells between us.

Being able to block two incoming foes with Wide was quite nice as well, again, especially so if it was the Master Assassin with his Fast Attack and Venom: 1 point of damage each would be enough to destroy most targets.

“I have not encountered many effects that add health before,” I remarked about the other card.

E’lal seemed unsurprised by my comment. “I suspect not, since it would have no effect when you duel under your Domes. However, on the battlefield, I’ve seen it make the difference between life and death.”

My thoughts immediately turned to the gruesome battle Hull and I had engaged in against the slumlord and Chaos user Ticosi, my hand drifting to my belly. If he had cut me differently with his knife or if Esmi hadn’t arrived with healing potions on her person, I might have died. An extra point of health would have made a world of difference in that case.

“I see you are familiar with such situations,” E’lal said.

His gaze was kind and inquisitive, but that was not a story anyone besides myself, Hull, and Esmi would ever know, so I responded with a nod of gratitude and a single word, “Unfortunately.”

He did not pry, thankfully, but either by his choice or by Fortune’s watchful eye, the text on the very next card spoke of war.

The abilities that these Uncommon Spells granted were much more powerful. A Headsman able to hide under Stealth until it was time to strike? An empowered Carrion Condor able to Dodge Spells meant to remove it? Though…

“Precision?” I asked. “I’m not familiar with that particular term.”

“Ah, yes,” E’lal said, tapping the card. “It allows one to ignore Armor.”

“Does it now?” I said, feeling my own eyes widen. My Master Assassin would be able to kill virtually anything if Armor couldn’t stop him. Previously I had been thinking of no longer using or upgrading the Rare, worried about what type of legacy I was leaving behind, but these cards were proving that he might simply have too much utility for that to be a possibility.

The next set of four was even more powerful and, correspondingly, expensive.

Atrea with Hunt? Or even better (if I still had it), a Sea Titan? Or Fast Attack on the Titan? That would simply be ridiculous. Fascinating as it was to consider, I could feel that I was getting ahead of myself, my pulse racing, so I took a calming breath. I didn’t have access to the Water Epic anymore, nor Life just yet. Balancing just one of them with my existing Order and Air would be hard enough, so there was no cause to consider any other mixtures.

The other two cards were excellent since Armor and Resist were universally good and would presumably stack with themselves and other cards which granted the same abilities.

To confirm I went ahead and asked. “I assume you use multiple copies of Barkskin and Woad Markings?”

He smiled. “Of course.”

Then we reached the true treasures of his deck: two Epics and a Mythic. The first I hadn’t expected, as it was half Order, which meant he must be able to cultivate that Source. Perhaps that was even why he had been selected by his people to train with humans.

I held up the card. “What Relics do you equip with this?” I asked, hoping it wouldn’t sound too presumptuous.

E’lal waved the question away “Nothing grand, which is why I did not bother to show them to you. Just simple Relic Swords that do a point of damage or two.” Now it was he that looked eager. “I was pleased to hear of the merits we shall be using since we have no coins in our lands.”

“But what of Relics?” I inquired. “Surely you have those.”

“Some,” he admitted, “but they are more often bows and staves, which this card does not pair as well with. I am hoping to buy some of what you forge here.”

That confirmed my suspicion. Imagining a summoner like Haze being able to attack with both his Gauntlets each turn, or Hull with his Hammer and Vampiric Blade, would be a devastating combination. My angry friend would love that, but he faced the same problem as me: he was unable to use the necessary Sources. Unless I did learn Life as I was flirting with, and then I cast the Spell on him.

“It looks like you’ve thought of a useful combination.” E’lal was smiling at me knowingly.

“Perhaps,” I chuckled, “perhaps.”

He then put a second Epic between us and suddenly the nature of his deck snapped into focus.

I had already thought his Spells powerful individually, but this card offered a culmination of sorts. Well, sort of, I thought, my excitement ebbing. Plus 3 attack was certainly a lot, and 3 additional health combined with Regenerate 1 would help with survivability, but all that with Strong wasn’t the scariest of combinations.

And then the elf laid the last card he had been holding.

I leaned over the green-edged card, my eyes flashing to catch every detail. 5 extra attack and Overkill were the exact sort of traits I had thought the last card was missing.

“Vigor?” I asked, the name sounding familiar.

E’lal nodded. “It exists on only a few Life cards, sadly so. Vigor allows one to attack without exhausting.”

As soon as he said it, I remembered where I had seen it before: among the cards the elf ambassador had used, and with my soul ability, I recalled it to mind.

“It is the most important part, Basil,” E’lal said, unaware of my mental conjuring. “What brings it all together.”

I could admit the ability seemed powerful, and then I realized what it would mean if paired with Dodge. Dodge’s weakness was that it could not be used while attacking, but if the Soul or summoner did not need to focus to attack, that downside was negated. And Stealth? With Stealth and Vigor a Soul could attack without revealing itself, making it only targetable by whatever it was fighting in combat, no Spell, no focus or devote effects! It would be practically unkillable, especially with the extra health, Armor, Resist, and Regenerate it might also have.

E’lal’s smile grew as he saw me come to each of those realizations.

“Impressive,” I said, sitting back. “Very impressive.” What I wouldn’t give for a Mythic of my very own to serve as an anchor to craft the rest of the deck around.

He took the compliment with a slight nod, returning the cards to his Mind Home one by one.

“So, you have no Souls?” I asked. I could respect the focus of his build, but it felt like a waste when a Spell like Flesh to Scales could only be used on Souls.

“A few,” he conceded as he cleaned up, “if I should find myself alone, but that is not how we elves fight. Usually, we are in duos or trios so we can complement and support one another.”

His answer was sensible, but it also made me question my options further. Was I making a mistake to limit my thinking to what would make an effective deck for a single person? Should I instead be thinking of how I could work in tandem with others? During the demonstration today Gale had helped the troops individually, but that likely wouldn’t be the only way our skills would be put to use on the battlefield.

“So, do you think you will try your hand at cultivating Life?” he seemed invested in my answer and it wasn’t difficult to figure out why: if I did start on such a journey, the elves would have an eager party to trade their excess Life cards with. And if I performed well while using Life, that might convince others to take it up, too.

In actuality, looking at the training camp from a larger lens, that was probably one of the purposes in having the mixed participants: to have us broaden our knowledge of sources and even make new pairings personally.

“If I did,” I said, careful to make no promises yet, “how would I begin?” I hoped to be able to use the empty fabricator Hull had given to help with this, but cultivating a few Sources on my own would be wise if I did decide to go down this path.

“We will get some plants in here for you to begin to care for. It will be tricky with all of the metal, but we shall manage.”

Taking care of living things. If that was what was required, all mothers probably gained some Life Source while raising their children. Though, the Source probably also departed once the child was old enough to fend for itself.

“If you are serious about this, though,” E’lal said. “You’ll want to speak with A’cia. She is much more skilled in teaching cultivation than I am.”

“A’cia?” I asked, imagining that E’lal was referring to the older member of their party who they had arrived with, a serious looking elf woman.

“The one whose form you were admiring,” he answered, to my shock.

“I –” I sputtered. “What?”

“We are attuned to such Life energies,” E’lal said to my utter horror. He then cocked his head, seeming to only now take note of my distressed state. “Mating is a natural act, and there are few stronger ways to cultivate Life Source.”

“Let’s stick with the plants for now, please,” I practically begged.

“If you wish, friend Basil. If you wish,” he said, though it was obvious he didn’t understand.

I began pulling cards from behind my ear and placing them before him without any thought to ordering or rarity like he had done for me. I simply wished to change the conversation, desperately so, and as I had hoped, E’lal leaned over them, appearing just as intrigued about the mixture of Order and Air cards as I had been about his.

The elf had given me much to think about – too much in some ways – and while I felt I was somewhat closer to an answer, I knew in my heart that I needed to speak with Esmi and Hull, and perhaps my cards, too, before I moved forward any further.