As Dnoeth approached the armory door, its inscribed frame came to life with the same bluish glow they’d seen from the bands outside. On the door itself, there were several other runes, only one of which glowed with a silver-white light. Dnoeth immediately sensed it was his rune.

He touched the door, sending his desire to enter. From the strike team essential energy, he was informed that the armory security was being activated.

Looking back to the banded entry door, which hung open, he watched a barrier of Daedrium flow up, just inside it’s frame, sealing them inside the team seven quarters. Only then did the armory door melt away.

“These Varden folks are pretty serious about their security,” Ramal muttered.

They piled into a large rectangular room. It went back about twenty feet, and to the right half again as far. Dnoeth saw in his mind that the shape completed a square that contained the armory, sleeping quarters and washroom.

The design was clean and, he realized, defensible from subterranean attacks. Dnoeth was beginning to get a sense that the Und Varden had confronted an overwhelming power and their barracks had been built not just as headquarters, but also as a sanctuary.

“What the hell good is this?” Roxanna said with irritation.

Ramal squeezed between them, moving to the middle of the space. “Well this is some shit. An armory without any fucking weapons.”

“Hold on,” Dnoeth said, closing his eyes to listen. “There’s weapons, I can feel them.” That wasn’t entirely true, what he could feel was an assurance from the strike team Daedrium that the armory was full. They just needed to verify their access rights.

After a moment he turned back and pointed to a spot beside the open armory door. “There. You both need to be tested for access rights.”

Beside the door were six runes, in two columns of three. The one in the top left spot, Dnoeth’s rune, was glowing with silver light. The other five were dark.

“It needs blood,” he said. “We all have unique runes assigned to us, mine is the silver one that’s active. You both need to find your rune and press your blood into it for security verification. If I’m right, the Daedrium will remember you after that, we should only need to do this once.”

As they stepped up to find their unique runic marks, Dnoeth formed a blade and held his breath. So far, he’d been the only one with an affinity for reading runes and he wasn’t sure what would happen if they tried to activate the wrong one.

“Ok,” Roxanna said. “This one’s mine.” Indicating the bottom left.

“And that’s mine.” Ramal said pointing to the middle right.

“Good,” Dnoeth exhaled. “Not that I doubt you, but how do you know which ones are yours?”

Ramal looked at Roxanna who shrugged, glanced back at her rune and said, “It’s like reading my name. It’s just, mine.”

Ramal nodded his agreement. “Yep. Like she said.” Then he gestured for Dnoeth to hold out the blade. He ran his pinky over the edge, then inspected it in confusion. “Not much of an edge.” He displayed his uncut finger and with a bemused smirk. “Think you could sharpen it up some?”

Dnoeth was stymied, he knew the blade was sharp. Ramal saw his look of confusion and shrugged. “Well, there’s always the lip.”

“Hold up.” Dnoeth forestalled him with his un-bladed hand on Ramal’s arm. He closed his eyes and questioned his bonded metal with an image of the ineffectual blade that didn’t cut. The musical rain responded with a sense of confusion. He listened intently and got that it was acting to protect his party, cutting party members would not protect them.

He projected his need to cut party members with an image of the runes. His trace amount of team seven Daedrium understood immediately, and it communicated the need and purpose to the rest of his absorbed metal. It was difficult for him to understand the exchange as the elemental metals spoke to each other much faster than they did to him.

The exchange stuck him. Dnoeth now carried not one, but two independent intelligences, within himself. Maybe I should start referring to myself as we. He thought, chuckling.

His bonded metal sent him confirmation that the blade would cut now, and the strike team Daedrium added that both potential Vanden should offer their blood at the same time. He didn’t understand why, but it was a small thing, so he just agreed.

Dnoeth opened his eyes and extended the bladed hand again. “Ok, it’ll work now. Apparently, my bond is able to sense party members and its set up not to harm them. Pretty cool trick actually. Also, you’ll need to do this together. Press your blood into your runes at the same time.”

Ramal raised a brow at the instruction and Dnoeth just shrugged. “Not sure why, but the strike team Daedrium was pretty clear on that point.”

Roxanna looked sideways at Ramal, then back at Dnoeth. “So, you’ve got different voices in your head now. How’s that going?”

“Actually, It’s pretty awesome. It’s kind of like having a couple of friendly onboard helpers. I was just thinking that I might have to adopt the royal we when referring to myself.”

“You know you already did that,” Ramal said.

“I did? When?”

“After we left the ventilation room, when you closed it back up,” Roxanna said. “Do you remember that?”

Dnoeth didn’t. He remembered closing the passage and his excitement at having gained such an amazing ability, but he didn’t remember referring to himself as we. “Nope, I was pretty excited though, I could have said a lot of things that I don’t remember.”

He lifted his blade toward them again. “Go on, I think this might help clear a few things up for you guys.”

Ramal slid his pinky as before along the edge, and blood welled around the cut. “Argh. Sharp as fuck now.” He moved aside for Roxanna and advised, “Pinky’s best, but go easy Roxy, it’s a razor.”

“Why the pinky? she asked.

“Least important finger for fighting effectively. It’s a minor thing, and probably matters less here, but little things can add up, so my teams always mind them.”

“Your teams, huh?” Roxanna asked, not expecting an answer.

“Yep.” Ramal grinned. “Each and every one is badass. Just like us.”

“Un-huh.” Roxy said, clearly dissatisfied, but followed his example and cut her pinky. Even with Ramal’s warning she still cut herself deeper than desired.

With a curse she stepped up next Ramal. “Ok, ready, set, now.” Together the two pressed their fingers into the smooth runic glyphs.

Bells rang in Dnoeth’s awareness and for the first time his companions reacted to the musical ringing. Their heads sprang up as both searched the space for the source of the tolling.

A split-second later Roxanna let out a pained cry and grasped her right forearm. Simultaneously, Ramal grunted and clutched at his own arm.

Dnoeth’s smile dropped away in confusion moving quickly toward alarm. But then the armory shifted. His smile returned, whatever was happening to them wasn’t a problem.

Ramal and Roxanna had their sleeves pulled back, looking between each other and their respective forearms in comparison.

Dnoeth moved forward to see they’d gained identical tattoos depicting a hammer with roots. Ramal took a step back to make room for him and his leg hit the bench that had silently formed behind him. “Woah!” He teetered.

Dnoeth grabbed and steadied him. “Careful. I don’t think you want to fall in there.”

“What the…” Ramal began, his words fading as he looked back and began to take in the now unveiled Strike Team Seven armory.

Roxanna brushed past Dnoeth, eyes wide at the transformed room. “Now, that’s an armory.” She said, turning right and walking slowly down the long section.

“Ohhh, yeah.” Ramal exhaled and a smile lit his face. “This is fucking beautiful.”

Where there had been nothing but empty walls, there were now six separate equipment lockers. Each in its own alcove, close on three paces wide by one deep. They were fronted by broad Daedrium benches with a raised table at its end.

Inside the door on left, were two lockers. Above the further one, Dnoeth’s runic mark radiated soft silver light.

The two longer walls had two lockers each. Roxanna found her mark above one in the far corner and Ramal’s was just inside the entry on the right. All three of them settled in, grinning and chatting excitedly as they set to sort through their new gear.

In his locker, starting up high Dnoeth had a half dozen pairs of long thin stiletto’s, each duo slightly different in length. In the next row down there were sets of broader, double-edged knives, all with beefy blade guards. Below these, was a row with three types of curved, fat bellied blades that looked particularly good for striking and slashing.

On the left wing-wall, that separated his locker from the next, hung bandoliers of throwing knives, a long sword, two short swords and a small, teardrop-shaped, black buckler.

On the right wing-wall hung a full set of fur lined cold weather gear as well as a set of leather armor that looked to have a dense pattern of Daedrium strands stitched into it.

His attention, however, was not on any of these items. He was, instead, focused on the three shelves in the center of the locker. Positioned as if to communicate that all other items in the locker were of lesser import, was stack after stack of square, fist-sized metal plates.

Dnoeth picked up a square, as he’d expected, it was Daedrium. He reached for the plate with his bond and it felt like he was trying to push through a wool banket. He could feel the general shape beyond, and it was incredibly dense in essential energy.

His effort was rebuffed by the bristly barrier. He tried connecting via the other side, then along the edge and even by holding the plate to his forehead, but nothing changed.

Annoyed and let down, Dnoeth scowled. “I don’t get it.”

Behind him, Roxanna was giggling and Ramal’s repeated exclamations of, Oo-ho-hoo, fueled an image of a medieval St. Nick in a showroom full of the sleigh mounted weaponry.

Glancing back, he saw Ramal had donned Daedrium enhanced leather pants and was standing in his locker, shirtless, comparing a long handled, double-bladed axe in one hand to a Warhammer with a shorter haft in the other. The Warhammer he held up to his forearm comparing it with the tattoo. A sly grin spread across his face as he said, “Well, I think that decides it.” He put the hammer on the bench and the axe back in the locker.

Roxanna he could only hear as Daedrium partition walls had sprung up around her locker. The sound of jingling chain mail was unmistakable. “Ohh. Look at that.” She muttered, but Dnoeth was feeling too sullen to ask what she’d discovered.

He wondered briefly how she’d managed the walls and concluded that his companions must have gained some measure of control over the Daedrium. She started humming the refrain to, ‘Have a Holly Jolly Christmas.’

Guess I’m not the only one with the holidays on my mind. He sighed, consoling himself with thoughts of gaining his Bonded Elementalist ability. Then turned back to puzzle out why a bunch of metal plates, wrapped in the essential energy equivalent of rough spun wool, were the focal point of his locker.

Roxanna giddily perused the contents of her locker. From the left, she pulled something like handgun from its pegs. It was one of a pair. She immediately saw it was not a gun. Although there was a trigger, it had no barrel and where the barrel should be was a narrow slot.

To either side of said slot were slim bars, both curved in a slight S-shape with an inch-long bit of red line connecting them at above the handle. At the base of the grip, opening to the rear, was a flattened scoop. The entire weapon was fashioned of the same dull metal as everything in the Armory. Daedrium.

She griped it as if to shoot and faint chiming rang in her mind. The curved sides snapped out, stretching the line of crimson between them in a V, the point held in place at the back of the slot. “Oh, mini crossbow. Nice.”

Roxy released the grip, the arms collapsed back to their original position, and she put it back beside its twin. Below them hung a single larger version in the same design. There were paired short swords, paired knives, and a large double-edged Roman style blade, as well.

Fur-lined winter clothing and leather armor occupied the right side, and a set of plated forearm guards looked interesting. But her eyes moved past them to locker center. There, set atop a set of drawers, were two glyph engraved sword hilts. Where the blades should have been was nothing but hand span long Daedrium spikes.

Curious, she picked them up. The spike didn’t extend straight out, and the blade guard wasn’t perpendicular to the handle. When held vertically, they angled forward. “What are these?” She murmured in thought, turning them about. “Not daggers...” She tilted her head, pondering. “Magic wands?” No, that didn’t make sense, why would they have sword hilts?

On impulse, Roxanna flexed her Proximate Influence skill, sending soul energy into them. A wave of power ran through the runic glyphs and they glowed for just an instant. She felt a kind of presence wake up in response. Then in the back of her mind the presence settled, and nymph-like peals of glee flitted in from the weapons. “Wellll then. Hello beautiful.”

Dnoeth looked over everything in the locker and took down a couple sets of daggers to test their balance. He liked them all. Setting those aside, he decided to follow Ramal’s example and change clothes. He tossed his ragged pants in the back of the locker and sat pulling the the Daedrium enhanced leather up to his thighs. He scowled at the gathered material on the ground. These are way too long.

Roxanna’s voice interrupted the thought. “Wellll then. Hello beautiful.”

The words caught him off-guard and he felt himself blush in embarrassment. He shot a look back only to find her privacy blind still up. She wasn’t talking to him at all. Dnoeth exhaled in relief.

Then he grimaced at his own reaction. She’s your mom numb-nuts. But even knowing that was true didn’t make it feel different. If anything, it just confused him further.

With a humm and a couple head rolls he cleared his head, then stood, pulling his pants up. They fit like a glove. “Damn. I guess not.” He crouched, and jumped a couple times, then tilted his head around to take in the pants. “Nice fit.” Why had he thought they were too long?

On the floor, beneath the set of armor, he spotted a folded leather satchel that had been hidden. “Nice. That’ll be useful” He set the bag on the bench and looked back to his gear locker, eyes roaming until they inevitably landed on the stacks of Daedrium plates.

Picking one, he set to figure it out. “Okay, what do you do?”