Archons are support specialists who steal their opponents’ strength and convert that raw energy into beneficial magic. These Mages bolster their allies and unleash potent kinetic blasts, quickly turning the tide of battle.
Archons draw upon an enemy’s strength to empower their friends and unleash potent spells, helping their allies face down seemingly insurmountable odds.
An Archon is weakest when caught between transfers. Having expended their own life force to gain access to their enemy’s, they must feed on the energy of others to regain strength. During this time a strategic assault can quickly overcome the Archon’s meager defenses.
The Archon’s Bahmi servant looked the Paladin Amardis up and down. Amardis shifted uncomfortably, unused to the desert heat.
“Many warlords seek the aid of the Archon Tahkaat. Her power brings victory to any army. What priceless treasure do you offer for her support?”
“None,” replied the Paladin. “My forces and I have taken a sacred vow. We will take no pay, nor spoils of war. We march against Laethys, Queen of Avarice, and we’ll give her greed no purchase.”
The Archon was clad in robes and veiled from sight in her tent. She appeared to be meditating in a circle of incense and spices. The figure made the barest nod, and her servant looked back, smiling.
“The Archon Tahkaat thinks you wiser than you appear. She will fight with your army, and through her strength the dragon will fall.”
In their third week afield, the army faced attack. Stone constructs rose from the desert sands and set upon them. Rushing to the front lines, Amardis saw the Archon’s litter explode. The Mathosian Paladin ran toward the blast, finding at first only fire and shards.
Tahkaat’s servant sat nursing her as the Paladin arrived at their side. The Archon’s veils were askew. Amardis laid eyes on Tahkaat for the first time and saw an emaciated and frail Eth woman, bleeding on the sand.
“Is this her great power?” yelled Amardis at the Bahmi servant.
The Bahmi looked at Amardis, leader of a noble crusade, as if she were no more than an ungrateful child. “Take a look at your army, Northerner.”
Amardis was stunned. Wreathed in stone and flame, their skin like rock, every one of her soldiers, from the hardened tribesmen to the boys who last season had been shepherds, matched the golems’ terrible strength. Every apprentice wielded spells like a magus, each infantryman fought like a champion. They dismantled the golems of Laethys like a child smashes his toys.
“She needs healing,” said Amardis, ashamed at her lack of faith.
“No!” The Bahmi gently picked up Tahkaat. “Something is coming.”
Suddenly, a series of thunderous blows shook the battlefield. “Titan!” the soldiers cried. A gargantuan figure towered over top of them. Even in their empowered state, the army was no match for this force of nature.
Before Amardis could sound the retreat, magma gushed from a sudden crack in the hill, washing over the foe, and Amardis felt her hands surge with the titan’s own might. She looked at the Archon, whose eyes burned like the molten blood of the earth. No longer frail and wizened, Tahkaat was regal, beautiful, and awesome to behold.
“Attack!” she bellowed.“Trust in the Gods, and the Archon Tahkaat!” Her army rallied, empowered anew. Amardis had never felt so strong, so unstoppable in her life.
As Amardis drew her blade from the Titan’s desiccated heart, she felt Archon Tahkaat’s hand on her shoulder. Amardis loved the gods, but at no moment in her life had she felt closer to a divine being.