Dungeons and Noobs

Noobtown Book Four

Ryan Rimmel

Copyright © 2020 Ryan Rimmel

All rights reserved

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

ISBN-13: 9781234567890
ISBN-10: 1477123456

Cover design by: Alexandre Rito
Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309
Printed in the United States of America

Dedicated to my loving wife, Sarah
Once again into the breech!

Thanks to my friends and fellow adventurers who helped take this book from an idea to a novel.  Special thanks to my early readers Ben H. and Jason K.  

Thanks to Alexandre Rito @ Podium for the great cover!

Finally, thanks to the rest of the Podium crew, Victoria, Emily and Johnathan McClain, Chapter 29 is just for you, buddy!

Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter 1: A visit by Badgelor

Chapter 2: Maximized

Chapter 3: Preparation B

Chapter 4: The Toy Maker

Chapter 5: Whistle While You Work

Chapter 6: The Fanciest of Footwork

Chapter 7: Personal Growth

Chapter 8: An Encounter in a Kitchen

Chapter 9: An Errant Mage

Chapter 10: Windfall Dockside

Chapter 11: Training Day

Chapter 12: Jim’s ‘Problem’

Chapter 13: Mayoring Problems

Chapter 14: Zentarim Academy

Chapter 15: Calm Before the Storm

Chapter 16: The Parade

Chapter 17: Fateful Meeting

Chapter 18: Badgers Night

Chapter 19: An Evening to Remember

Chapter 20:  One Final Stop

Chapter 21: An Odd Morning

Chapter 22: For Wind and Windfall

Chapter 23: The March to Dungeon

Chapter 24: The Phoenix Moon Beckons

Chapter 25: Inside the Dungeon

Chapter 26: A Magical Stroll

Chapter 27: Drungeons and Drak’ish

Chapter 28: Aftermath

Chapter 29: For Johnathan

Chapter 30: Deep Thoughts by Sir Dalton

Chapter 31: The Dark Altar

Chapter 32: Falling Into the Unknown

Chapter 33: Burning Cavern

Chapter 34: The Path to the Dungeon Core

Chapter 35: Underground Pumas

Chapter 36: Badgelor’s Two Best Friends

Chapter 37: Skills and Powers

Chapter 38:  And Then There Were Two

Chapter 39: …Beyond the Pale

Chapter 40: Tomb Raider

Chapter 41: An Obvious Betrayal

Chapter 42: Return of the King

Chapter 43: Past the Dungeon Core

Chapter 44: The Vengeance of an Angry Godling

Chapter 45: Collapsing Star

Chapter 46: the Final Battle

Chapter 47: Burning and Useless

Chapter 48: Epilogue

Chapter 1: A visit by Badgelor

'Twas the eve before Grebthar Day,  all through the village

Only a badger was stirring; he was ready to pillage!

The windows were bolted and locked up with care,

Knowing that Badgelor would surely be there.

   The kids were in bed, all snug as a bug,

   While that crafty badger moved in like a thug!   

And Mama with her broom, and I with my club,

Were all settled in to protect our house, Bub.

When out in the yard, there came such a din,

It was that wily badger, knocking over our bin.

Over to the door, I looked through the glass,

And saw a great badger, ready to kick ass

The Phoenix Moon showing on Ordinal below,

Gave the look of midafternoon; it was night, though.

When, what did I spot arrayed before me,

But an angry badger, working quick, like a bee,

How that badger could waddle, right out of folklore,

I knew in a moment, it must be Badgelor.

Much louder than rats, he crawled through our walls,

Which caused him to trip and land on his balls.

"Oh, fecker that hurt; that was bees without honey!

I’m giving these idiots presents and not asking for money!

Grebthar, ya git, your obituary be written in piss!

Let’s get back to the pub, once I leave the gifts with the miss!”

As Badgelor continued to scream and to swear,

Removing shards of my home from his balls with great care,

Seriously, it was so noisy and loud,

If he didn’t stop soon, it would draw quite a crowd.

Then, he began twerking, heard all through the house,

“Damn, something is broken!” cried my terrified spouse.

As I drew back my club, and got ready to smash,

Badgelor fell through the wall, landing with a great crash. 

He was in his War Form, massively furious,

but the pack on his back made me just a bit curious.

Toys flew out of the bag, which he had on his hump,

“Touch them,” he said, “And you’ll pull back a stump.”

His eyes -- how they glowed!  His teeth, oh, how sharp!

As he peed on our curtains, I wished for a tarp!

His vicious little mouth was drawn up like a dagger,

He went straight to our icebox and ate with a swagger.

The leg of a turkey he held tight in his jaw,

And a cherry pie ready, held in his left paw.

He ate, and he ate, until he had a full belly;

All he left of our food was a jar of grape jelly.

He was dusty and gooey, a right jolly old mess,

I yelled at him some, but he couldn’t care less.

A blink of his eye and a squirt of his glands,

He marked my house with one of his brands.

He swore to my face, then got straight down to work,

leaving each kid a toy, while calling me a big jerk.

And tracing his finger across his flat neck,

“Say what you saw here, and I’ll send you to heck.”

Then he sprang through the wall, to Grebthar gave a whistle,

“Their food, it all sucked!  It was nothing but gristle.”

As I looked through my home and its badger-filled plight,

I heard him scream “Feck all y’all, blighters.” off into the night.

“Did that really happen, Mr. Badgelor?” asked Voan, as Badgelor finished the most sacred of all Grebthar Day rituals.

“Of course, it did,” answered Grace, coming back into the room.  “Badgelor sneaks into everyone’s houses to leave kids presents.”

“I thought it was really Mom and Dad,” said EveSophia conspiratorially.

“You think that your parents sneak around the whole town and leave presents for everyone?” groaned Grace, rolling her eyes.  Badgelor seemed to have waited for her to use the restroom before he began his story.  “The town is too big, first off.  Second off, when they run into Badgelor, he’s going to be upset with them.”

“Badgelor’s not allowed in my house, since he got in a fight with Kappa,” said EveSophia sadly.

“Oh no!  You aren’t going to get any presents,” replied Voan, her eyes filled with sorrow.  Then, her eyes brightened.  “I know!  I’ll ask Badgelor to leave your gifts with me!  Then, I’ll give them to you.”

The girls giggled and got back to the important part of the holiday, trying to figure out what toys they wanted.  That just left me with one simple question.

“How were they able to understand Badgelor?” I asked.  “Seriously, he’s talking in Badger.  All they heard are grunts and growls.”

“It’s The Eve Before Grebthar Day,” said SueLeeta, half-distracted.  Her latest campaign was less successful than she would have liked, and more plotting was in order.  “I’m pretty sure everyone in here can recite it from memory.  Everyone except you, of course.”

“It doesn’t seem that appropriate for children,” I said after a moment.  “There was lots of swearing.”

“Swearing?” chuckled SueLeeta, finally turning to face me.  I watched her long braid of auburn hair settle between her shoulder blades.   “In a children’s poem?  You might need to talk to Fenris about your Badger speech.  You are apparently getting rusty.”

“What was the last bit again?” I asked.  “Just the last line?”

“I heard him proclaim ‘To all a good eve’,” answered Fenris, a huge smile on his normally dour face.  Of everyone in the entire village, I was under the personal opinion that Fenris enjoyed the holiday the most.  “I’ve never heard it recited better.  It was like the actual Badgelor was here, spreading the good news that Grebthar had been reincarnated again to fight the Dark Overlord.”

“And Badgelor was respectful to Grebthar?” I continued.

“Of course!  It is well-known how respectful and honorable Grebthar’s companion, Badgelor, was,” smiled Fenris.  “He was a stalwart defender of all that was noble and true.  Your Badgelor seems cut from the same cloth.  Mind you, I think that supreme loyalty just might be a trait of all War Badgers.”

I nodded at this.  War Badger was a dialect of Badger that was particularly difficult to understand, and Badgelor himself had a challenging accent on top of it.  In plain speak, Fenris didn’t understand any single sentence of what Badgelor was saying.  Of course, the fact that he thought he did caused Badgelor no end of consternation.

Sitting at the mayor’s table, I was surrounded by my closest friends on Ordinal.  SueLeeta and Fenris were politely chatting as the Golden Badger continued to fill up for the start of the celebration.   Badgelor was sitting on the table in his throne, which was not a child’s high chair, being fed by the delighted children.

Zorlando and Sir Dalton were sitting at a nearby table, surrounded by Sir Dalton’s wards.  The women were alternating between looking doe-eyed at him and shooting daggers at SueLeeta.  Her efforts at dating Sir Dalton went well while they were at the castle, and I use the term “dating” loosely. Unfortunately, things had soured once they returned to Windfall.

SueLeeta had decided to be my wingwoman by keeping Sir Dalton away from Jarra the Healer.  Regrettably, it seemed that SueLeeta had set her sights on a second man where her seductive skills had run into a roadblock.  In Sir Dalton’s case, said roadblock came in the form of ten young women, all eager to prevent themselves from attaining an evil stepmother.

“Freaking clam jammers,” grumbled SueLeeta, the prospective evil stepmother.  Her brow furrowed as she downed another Narwal ale.  OttoSherman was attempting to both console her and make eyes with at least four other patrons in the bar.  It went without saying that OttoSherman wasn’t being too particular on who those patrons were.  While SueLeeta only valued high quality, grade A beefcake, OttoSherman wasn’t very selective as long as his partner was of age.  He didn’t care about gender, shape, or pretty much anything else.  OttoSherman took his role as the town’s resident floozy quite seriously. 

Zorlando and Sir Dalton got on together like a house on fire.  They had apparently known each other in Narwal, but now Zorlando was rapidly becoming best friends with Sir Dalton.  Both men liked to talk about themselves, and Zorlando was just as inclined to blow smoke up Sir Dalton’s ass as to tell a story about himself.  Zorlando was in the middle of one of these stories, when I caught him winking at Ashe with my Perception skill.  Thankfully for the Mercenary Captain, Sir Dalton had not been looking.  Ashe giggled, something I rarely saw my maid do. 

“It can’t be opened,” said Bashara, sitting to my right.  She was a slip of a girl with a scar on her right cheek.  My eyes still tried to gloss over the blemish, even though I was now certain that it was there.  Bashara was a Wizard who specialized in emotional manipulation or mental magic.  She had been trying to control me for some time.  However, I had powered through her efforts and been rewarded with a perk that made mind control next to impossible against me. 

Never again would someone find me an easy target for mind control magic.  Thank goodness for that.  Bashara’s efforts had gone on entirely too long.  It was only the powers of her magic that prevented me from understanding what was happening at the time.  Shart had explained it to me succinctly enough. If you noticed every successful Stealth attempt around you, then you’d know to look for someone sneaking up on you by checking your prompts.  That meant that her emotional magic, which was really mind control magic, had always misdirected me toward anything else as an explanation.  It didn’t matter how implausible such an explanation might be.  I had been beyond agitated, as soon as I realized what had been going on. 

“I thought you said it wouldn’t be a problem,” I countered, glancing over at her.  “We need to get into that dungeon before someone else does.  Now, you are making it sound like it’s going to be a problem.”

“Look, the gate is magically warded and there is absolutely no way to open it before the rise of the Phoenix Moon during the holiday,” said the Wizard.  “I didn’t come out here expecting to have to pick an arcane lock.  I need to get some specialized equipment that your little town can’t provide.”

“Can we make it?” I asked, but she was already shaking her head.

“I already checked with Mar.  You don’t have an Enchanter of nearly the skill level required,” she answered, flicking a piece of lint off her shoulder.

If Mar, my town clerk, couldn’t find it, then it didn’t exist locally.  “Blots?”

“Your town Merchant can find one for me, but it’s going to be a few weeks before it would get here,” she frowned.  “There is a war going on,  you know.”

The current war was a great battle between the Kingdom of HarCharles and the Kingdom of TimSimons.  The fighting was pressing ever closer to Windfall’s massive fortress wall.  Thankfully, Windfall was in a pocket valley with only one functional way in and out.  Thus far, we had been spared any real trouble from the war, other than the massive influx of refugees.  Right now, we were simply not of any strategic value to either side.

I was waiting for the day when an envoy of either king would come calling, but, as of yet, neither had.

“So Grebthar Day proper is in seven days,” I said, thinking about the holiday.  Everything going on now was, in essence, either celebrating our victory over the goblins three days ago, or preparing to celebrate Ordinal’s holiday.  It didn’t hurt that I’d declared today an official day of celebration.  More than a few people had gone overboard.

I’d spent the last couple of days chasing after possible renegade trolls or goblins.  By the end of the second day, I’d more or less called off the pursuit.  We hadn’t found a single goblin in more than a day, except for a few Wargs.  Since we presently had a treaty of sorts with them, we let them go. 

The genetically altered wolves lacked the numbers to cause us any real harm.  I was content to leave the Wargs in the northern part of the valley, until they felt like negotiating.  I idly wondered how much longer it would take them to figure out their predicament.  They had killed off all of the goblins, but only the goblins could make the alchemical compounds required to make more Wargs. 

That just left the trolls.  They were the reason I was drinking ale in gulps rather than sips.  The trolls had occupied the Eastern Gate Fortress and spilled out into Falcon Crest, our neighbor to the east.  The Eastern Gate Fortress was built on a smaller scale than the Western Gate Fortress, but it was still an impressive fortification.  At least it would have been, if not for the damage, which was quite extensive.  The problem was that there were a number of trolls there, too many for easy solutions.  I’d need my army to clear them out, but, with the activity on our western border, I wasn’t sure about committing the forces required to do so. 

Jarra the Healer plopped down on my left side, doing her level best to ignore Bashara.  “Mayor, I have news on your request.”

“How secretive,” smiled Bashara, attempting to goad Jarra.  Jarra doubled down on ignoring the Wizard.

“With the information and ingredients we discovered in the warren, I’m pretty sure I can replicate the potion,” said Jarra, earning a huge smile from me.  My happiness was very short lived, as Jarra added, “Eventually.”

“Eventually?” I asked.

“It's quite complicated.  The goblins’ lab was greatly damaged by the Wargs,” answered Jarra the Healer sadly. “Whatever unique goblin potions they had in reserve were mostly destroyed.  I think I found their recipe for the green smoke, but some of the ingredients they were using are. . . challenging to acquire.”

“I remember that stuff.  It is foul,” stated Bashara.

“Do I want to know what those ingredients are?” I asked.

“One is gathered by plucking an infected hair from the rear end of a larger goblin,” answered Jarra.

“That might be a problem,” I said.  We’d just pretty much eliminated the entire population of goblins in the valley.  Goblins tended to grow larger as they aged, and the big ones had been primary targets. 

“Well, it might not be as serious an issue as you’d think,” stated Jarra the Healer confidently. “Unlike some who can only operate with the best equipment, I can make substitutions in a potion with my Alchemy skill.”

Bashara rolled her eyes.  “There is a difference between replacing goblin anal secretions and performing complicated arcane magic.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” replied Jarra.  “I can overcome my roadblocks.  You, however, are stuck flicking your fingers at nothing.”

Bashara frowned at her.  Jarra sat smugly, finally having a solid one up on the Wizard.  I was pretty certain I could hear teeth grinding.  Bashara had become quite a bit more manageable, ever since I figured out she was mentally manipulating me.  On the other hand, since I’d taken away her main avenue of attack, she’d begun to get frustrated.  I was pretty sure the only reason she remained in town was the dungeon.  Its door was going to open soon, and everyone wanted their turn inside it. 

Hell, Glorious Robert even had his assistant captain running the fishing boat while he waited around for the opportunity to get into the castle’s dungeon.  He and his wife were off drinking in the corner, with him giving me the occasional side-eye.  Our first meeting hadn’t gone particularly well, and he was trying to figure out a way back into my good graces.  I was pretty sure I wasn’t really still mad at him, though.  Probably.

Bashara excused herself a few seconds later.  Jarra, realizing she didn’t need to guard me anymore, walked over to the bar to visit RueVivian.  I was left alone at my table.  Taking a moment, I glanced again at what had been bothering me.

●        Max Level Achieved

●        Quest: Travel through a Demon Door to remort yourself!

Chapter 2: Maximized

I made my excuses and wandered off into the night, before anyone had a chance to catch up to me.  I was mildly moody, so slipping away hadn’t been difficult.  The blast of cold air that hit me was new, though.  Nighttime temperatures had dropped from pleasantly warm to downright chilly, almost overnight.  The abrupt change didn’t help my mood at all.

“Shart, did you find out anything?” I asked my shoulder demon.  He didn’t like crowds and had simply vanished to his demonic palace.  I wasn’t entirely certain where his refuge was or how it worked.  I was guessing it was on an ethereal plane or some such, but I could never get the demon to talk about it.

“I just got the <admin console> built, and you suck,” stated Shart, groaning.  He’d been working on the task for the last two days, in my meat sack time.  Given that Shart operated at around a 200 to 1 timescale, that meant he’d been working on this little project for nearly a year in his time.  He’d become kind of surly after the first fifteen minutes or so.

“Is it working?” I asked, ducking into the darkness of an alley.

“Of course, it is,” stated Shart.  “I built it.  I’m amazing.  If I build something, it will work.  Of course, stupid mortals don’t really understand the complexities of the <system>.  Building one in my vacation home shouldn’t have even been possible.”

“But the console works and told you what was wrong?” I continued, waiting for him to demonsplain it to me.

“Yes, of course it works!  I just told you it did, Dum Dum.  It's just. . .” started Shart, pausing as he considered how to respond.  “Well, it's just that you have a unique situation, so it took me a while to figure out what was wrong.”

Everyone on Ordinal had a trait.  Some were common, some were rare.  Mine was unique.  I had the UnBound trait, which prevented me from having level-based limits.  That had allowed me to level up in multiple classes that were, at least in one case, mutually exclusive.  That was also giving the <system> fits.

The massive problem I’d run into occurred just after the final battle with the goblins.  Everyone else was celebrating their level-ups.  A few people had earned skill level-ups as well.  I had been greeted with a screen saying:

●        Maximum Level Achieved: You are level 60 in the following class:  <error>  You are a legend!  Go to a Demon Door to ReMort yourself into a new class! 

“And you swear you didn’t do this,” I asked Shart again.

“I did not,” stated the grumbling demon.  “You know I can’t lie to you, and you’ve asked me a variation of that question twenty times now.  I’m getting sick of it.”

“It just seems like something you’d do, if you could,” I replied.

“I wish,” responded the demon.  “I’d have done that straight away, if I knew how too.”

I glared at the demon.  Shart vanished off my shoulder, only to reappear on a crate that had been thrown into the dark alley we were hiding in.  Just outside the alley, people were walking around.  Even at this late hour, they were preparing for the holiday season.  I could smell some sort of pine tar concoction being cooked down for some reason.  I hadn’t been able to drag an explanation out of anyone, yet.

“Anyway,” continued Shart, clearing his throat, “I figured it out just a bit ago.  I double-checked the numbers against the <console>.  Check this out.”

I felt a tugging on my character sheet.  I brought it up and looked at it.  With my Ring of Mental Bonds improving our demonic bond, I was more clearly able to find out what Shart was doing in my head.  It was one of the more beneficial effects of the ring.  Not to help Shart, mind you.  It was helpful because whenever Shart was rooting through my sheet, I could easily bounce over and see what he was looking at.

●        Jim: Sorcerer, Level 3

●        Mage-Knight, Level 14

●        Beast-Master, Beast Lord Path, Level 15

●        Adventurer, Level 14

●        Duelist, Level 14

●        HP: 700/700

●        Stamina: 550/550

●        Mana: 250/250

“Your total level is 60,” said Shart confidently, as if that answered every question I might have.

Unfortunately, it did.  “Everyone’s maximum level is 60,” I said, the realization suddenly dawning on me.  “So even with UnBound, I can’t level up to 60 in each class.  I can only go up to a maximum level of 60, total.”

“Yup,” said Shart.

“And my build is terrible,” I said, slumping down.  All of my choices were coming to bite me in the ass.  I’d been operating on the assumption that I’d be able to level-up to the maximum in all my classes.  I had made choices based on that assumption that were now proving to be truly and overwhelmingly wrong. 

“It's not all terrible,” said Shart comfortingly.  “Your skills and talents are still uncapped.  You can level those up, even if your build is basically the kind of fever dream a sugar crashing six year old might have.”

Having higher-level skills was still quite useful.  My Jack of All Trades ability did grant me a bonus to learning new skills and leveling them faster.  Likewise, I’d discovered that you could gain additional talent points from experience.  I could keep increasing the talents I had in my various class trees, albeit at a significantly reduced rate.  The problem was that most of the real top-tier powers were locked behind class perks.  I wasn’t going to be earning any more of those. 

My UnBound allowed me to ignore level requirements when picking perks, but it didn’t ignore any of the other requirements.  Most of the really good perks were three to five tiers deep in the perk trees ,or they required you to possess multiple other perks.  I had Resistance, which allowed me to take three follow-up perks to reduce Damage from various sources.  All the other really good ones were located deeper in the path, like the Iron Kettle Body perk.  It granted your body a significantly improved Defense stat.  I had been planning on taking that next.  Now, that was looking like it was impossible.

In one battle, I’d gone from an overpowered super-tier character to that idiot with the absurd build. 

“I’ve peaked,” I said, the finality hitting me like a ton of bricks.  “How do we fix this?”

“I can think of two ways,” said the demon.  “First off, you could go to a bunch of dungeons and gather power from their Dungeon Cores.”

“Dungeon Cores?” I asked.

“They are the embodiment of the Will of the dungeon.  If you defeat the final boss, then claim energy from the Dungeon Core, you gain at least one perk.  There might be more, depending on the dungeon,” stated Shart.  “Any person who gathers energy from a Dungeon Core gains true power!”

“That’s promising,” I stated.  If I managed to clear quite a few dungeons, then I might be able to power myself up enough to offset my disadvantage.  “What’s the other option?”

“Well, you can go through a Demon Door,” said Shart slowly.

“Are you still going to erase me so you can build a hero to fight the Dark Overlord?” I asked. 

Shart’s plan had initially been to take my soul and get rid of all of the annoying “me” parts, which was a theological issue; my soul was composed exclusively of “me” parts.  He would then use what was left to build a hero capable of fighting the Dark Overlord. 

“Yeah,” admitted the demon.

“Why can’t you just use me to do it?  I’ll fight him for you,” I said.  I’d already died once, and I didn’t really much care for it.  The idea of my soul being wiped clean had a bunch of implications I didn’t really want to consider.  My main concern was Shart dealing with my actual soul.  What would happen to “me” when I got erased?  I always hoped, though hadn’t dared to believe,  I’d be going to Heaven with my wife.  If Shart did his thing, I wasn’t really sure that would happen.  For all I knew, allowing a demon to ravage your soul earned a one-way ticket to eternal damnation. It wasn’t something I wanted to risk, assuming such a place existed.

Shart was quiet for a long time.  Finally, he spoke.  “You aren’t cut out for it.  You don’t have the bloodlust that the hero who’s going to fight the Dark Overlord will need.  It's going to be a real, honest to <admin>, battle to the death for the fate of the world.  I just don’t see you, as you are, pulling it off.  No matter what you do, you are not fit for the job.”

“That’s unfortunate,” I said.

“Maybe not,” replied Shart, brightening slightly.  “Sure, you aren’t the kind of monster in human flesh I need to fight the Dark Overlord, but that’s not a bad thing.  It just means that you aren’t cut to fight something truly horrible. You grew up soft, Jim.  You were an IT guy, not a Hero of Destiny. “

“That’s what every man wants to hear,” I said slumping.  “When the chips are down, you aren’t going to cut it.”

“Just don’t go to the Demon Door, then,” replied Shart, watching me.  “Don’t do it.  I checked the <console>.  When you die, I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to catch your soul anyway.  Just live your life and don’t worry about it.”

“So, no matter how this ends, you are going to wipe my soul,” I said.  It wasn’t a question.

“That was always the plan.  I just had to put in the effort to confirm the possibilities with the <console>, and you asked me to do it,” replied Shart. 

I was about to retort, but he was talking about the <console>.  I had asked him to build it.  Now, when I died, I got perma-death because of my own request.  Poetic.

“If I figure out a way to defeat the Dark Overlord without you erasing my soul, that’s still fine, right?” I asked.  “No soul erasing, then?”

Shart nodded ecstatically.  “Yes!  Look, I don’t want to do this, Dum Dum.  I would much rather leave you be than erase you.  I mean, If you can find someone else potentially powerful enough to take your place, I’ll use them instead.”

That would have to be enough to keep me going.

It was only later that Shart had finally called me by my chosen name. 

Chapter 3: Preparation B

I woke up the next morning in my bed.  The foul stench of badger breath permeated my nostrils.

“The hell!” I exclaimed. 

“Wake up, Jim, my boy.  It's time for us to get busy,” replied Badgelor. 

“I respect you as a badger, but I’m not into that.  Check with OttoSherman,” I groaned, trying to go back to sleep. 

He was hopping up and down on my chest, looking insanely pleased.  I was immediately concerned.  Normally, when the badger was this happy, something tasty had just died.  I was also pretty sure he was ruining my blankets as his claws repeatedly caught in them.  All I wanted to do was sleep a bit more, but it was hard with someone so enthusiastic nearby.

“What’s going on?” I finally asked.

“In five days, we are having Badger’s Night!  I need to begin preparations,” answered Badgelor.  The excited weasel grabbed me by the neck and hauled me up from my soft, comfortable mattress.  I wasn’t quite sure of the physics of it all, but the next thing I knew, I was on the floor. Staring up at the ceiling, I wondered what fresh, confusing hell I was in for. 

“What the hell is Badger’s Night?” I asked.  Badgelor scurried up my dresser and flung out a shirt and a pair of pants for me.  I hastily put them on as he explained.

“It's the most important night of the year,” Badgelor informed me.  “Didn’t you hear the poem?”

“The one you swore throughout to the children at the inn?” I responded, trying to make rhyme or reason out of what was going on.

“Like they can understand me,” replied Badgelor, growling.  “I waited until Grace left the room.”

“I wondered why you were singing,” I replied, following the wildly gesticulating badger into the hallway and up the stairs.  Ashe stormed down the stairs, frowning fiercely at me.

“I’m not touching that,” she said.  I squeezed myself against the wall, giving her space on the smaller staircase. 

I was about to say something when Badgelor jumped through the still open door to my crafting room.  It was the only room of its kind that I’d seen on Ordinal.  It contained five large workbenches that could be used for any kind of crafting discipline.  The massive pile of garbage in the middle of the room was new, though.

My crafting room was located in the attic, taking up nearly the entire space on the top floor.  A massive vaulted ceiling went up nearly twenty feet in the center.  The room itself was spacious and organized.  The long crafting benches lined the walls, and there was usually plenty of open floor space.  It was a well-designed and, typically, fastidiously neat crafting area.  Currently, in the middle of the room, there was an eighteen foot tall pile of garbage.  Shart was sitting on top of it like some sort of strange trash tree topper.  He was slumped slightly, narrowly avoiding scraping his head on the ceiling.

“What?” was all I managed to get out.  I was pretty sure the floorboards were warping, due to the weight of the garbage.  The only thing I had going for me was the fact that none of the rubbish smelled.   Very odd.  I frowned and looked over at Shart.

“What?  What’s wrong?” the demon asked.  I managed to open his inventory screen.  Aside from a few healing potions and other random crap I’d seen before, he was empty.  Shart had a notorious instinct to gather up whatever shiny piece of garbage caught his eye, and now they were all in the middle of my workshop.

“Explain this to me.  Use small words,” I said to Badgelor, who had resumed hopping around like a coked out kangaroo.

“Explain it to him like he’s Jim,” replied Shart.  I wasn’t sure if he meant the Curious Little Puppy or because I was particularly slow in their eyes.  I wasn’t happy about either comparison.

“I need you to make toys.  Shart said you have the Salvage skill,” replied the badger. 

He was right.  I did have the Salvage skill, but I didn’t understand how Badgelor’s excitement, the trash, and the Salvage skill were connected.  I typically kept Salvage deactivated, because it was kind of annoying.  On Ordinal, if you had a skill active, you kept getting an overlay as to how the skill could be used.  If you had Salvage up and looked at a person, the results were unpleasant. 

I brought up my skills menu and flipped through the options.  I’d learned Salvage when I was much less experienced.  It took a moment, but I finally found the settings to activate Salvage but disable it for living beings, because I didn’t need to know how many pounds of meat Badgelor was worth.  Then, I went a step further and set it so that I’d have to specifically look at an item before the skill would activate.  That was still an improvement over my Improvised Tools skill.  I had to set that one as broadly as possible, because that skill seemed to only work when I could see everything.  That was how I learned how flexible RueVivian was.  I usually kept it deactivated.

●        Salvage, you are Amateur.  You have a limited chance to gain poor quality components from a salvaged item.

I sifted through the pile of junk, pulling out the bottom part of a coat rack.  At one time in the village’s past, Windfall had apparently had a prosperous coat rack trade.  Shart had been collecting pieces since we moved to town. 

●        Damaged Coat Rack: Salvage.  You have a chance to recover two blocks and one dowel.  Would you like to salvage <Yes/No>?

I selected “Yes” and pulled.

●        Critical Success: you have recovered all parts, plus an additional pole!

The item literally fell apart in my hands, leaving me with two large wooden blocks, a dowel that was as long as either of the blocks, and a pole that was nearly four feet in length.  In all, the materials I’d salvaged encompassed at least 100% more material than the damaged piece could account for. 

The garbage pile swayed dangerously, forcing me to drop the materials and put my shoulder into it to prevent an avalanche. 

“What just happened?” I asked.

“When you Salvaged the coat rack,” answered Shart with a sniff, “The other half must have been in the pile.”

“You mean if I salvage something, all of it is salvaged?  It doesn’t matter if I have the entire thing or just pieces?”  I asked, considering the implications.   “I could use that over long distances.  Set up a trap or something.”

“No, Dum Dum.  It's got a very limited range,” replied Shart, rolling his eyes, “If the parts had been further away, you would have only been able to Salvage the bits that you had.”

I picked up one of the wooden blocks and set it on a workbench.  I knew from Carpentry that blocks were one size down from planks.  I also knew they were used mainly in the assembly of smaller wooden items.  Boards were also used by the Carpentry skill, but for more specialized purposes.

Bringing up my Carpentry menu, I found a coat rack.  They normally required a pole, eight blocks, and two dowels.  I wasn’t exactly making out in materials. 

“So, blocks for the kids?” I asked, holding up the two oversized blocks.

“You lazy blighter,” growled the badger.  He rose up, blocking the only door out of the workshop.  “It would be hell on my reputation if I didn’t give out the best possible toys.”

“I don’t even know how to make toys,” I grumbled, considering how to build them while stacking the blocks on top of each other.  Immediately, I got a skill prompt.

●        You have learned about the skill Toy Making.  You are unskilled.  Toys for the good girls and boys!

Shart grinned wickedly.  Badgelor asked, “Are you sure?”

I hated Jack of All Trades.

Chapter 4: The Toy Maker

With stupendous joy, I pulled apart the last piece of garbage in the pile.  When I’d started, only about a third of the items actually granted me any Salvage.  Most of them didn’t grant much.  Half-way through I’d leveled up the skill, now I was able to gain some amount of Salvage from everything in the junk pile.  The last batch had finally gotten me another skill-up.

●        Your Salvage skill has improved.  You are now Initiate.  Improved chance of Salvaging high quality components from objects.

I had been getting critical successes on almost every check, which I thought had been quite useful.  I didn’t understand why I was so lucky, until I'd gotten into the Crafting logs to search the reason.  The results were interesting.

My Dexterity and Willpower stats were quite high.  Both granted me a significant bonus when attempting the skill, but that didn’t account for me getting critical successes nine out of ten times.  Delving deeper, I discovered my old Crafting skill had been helping me.

Crafting was a skill that the <system> had discontinued.  I’d only managed to select it because of a free skill choice that I shouldn’t have had access to.  Yet one more side-effect of my unique condition.  The Crafting skill would have been the ‘base’ skill that all other crafting skills were derived from.  It was not something that was supposed to still exist. 

●        Crafting: You are Initiate in Crafting.

It had been a nice surprise to find that it was Initiate level.  Apparently, all that magical Trap Making experience I’d earned also came with a huge pile of Skill Points, and all of my skill gains when building stuff applied to both the skill in question and Crafting.  That said, I wasn’t going to be leaving the Initiate rank of crafting in the near future.  I typically kept the Skill Point, or SP, from displaying, but I peeked at it now and groaned.

●        Crafting: Initiate (122,414/10,000,000)

Because crafting wasn’t supposed to be an option anymore, the <system> had compensated by making the cost of the skill obscene.  Mechanically, Crafting was giving me an effective bonus of about 3 skill levels whenever I tried to make anything.  That meant I was nearly always critically successful on simple tasks like making a dagger.  I didn’t even want to think what one of the Journeyman perks for Crafting would be like. 

I was currently in possession of the largest pile of blocks, dowels, felt, cloth, and other miscellaneous crafting parts I’d ever seen.  Shart had been meticulously stacking the materials in the workshop, more out of boredom than anything else.  Badgelor was still blocking the door like a furry jail warden.

Since I had the Toy Making skill, I decided to see how long it was going to take me to make some of these toys.  I made this decision completely on my own and of my own free will, because I was curious.  It had nothing to do with Badgelor’s large sleeping form preventing an escape.  He must have grown bored watching me play with trash and fallen asleep at some point.  I brought up the crafting menu and flipped through the list of toys I knew how to make.  The list was pretty short.

●        Dolly: 2 swaths of cloth, 1 stuffing

●        Badger: 2 swaths of cloth, 1 stuffing, 1 dowel

●        Wagon: 4 blocks, 2 dowels

I fastidiously ignored the badger and decided to try the wagon first.  I took four blocks and two dowel rods over to the carpentry workbench and shook out my shoulders in an attempt to relax.  I then selected the wagon.  Instantly, my hands flew into action, carving the first block into four wheels in minutes.  The rest of the blocks quickly became the bed and sides of the wagon.  The dowel rods were likewise turned into axles.  Ten minutes later, I was looking at a pretty competently built little, red wagon.  Surely, even Santa’s elves would have been proud. 

●        Critical Success: You have crafted a Masterwork Toy Wagon

I had not used any paint on it at all.  I didn’t even have paint.  The fact that it was red was just an Ordinal thing. 

Holding the little red wagon in my hands, I became curious and gathered up some more components.  Instead of building one of my three known blueprints, I decided to see if I could modify one.  I opted to rework the wagon’s plans, since I had already had success with it.  When generating the new toy blueprint, I focused on using extra dowels.  With them, I added a third axle to the wagon in the back and a fourth axle in the front.  From there, I expanded the frame into a large cylinder parallel to the ground.  I added a second, smaller cylinder perpendicular to that at the front.  I spent a few minutes fleshing out the details, but, in the end, I’d converted a wagon into a cute little train. 

Crafting it was just as easy as the wagon, though it required more materials. 

●        You have discovered a new blueprint!  Please, specify a name!

I obviously called it a train.  Afterward, I was rewarded by a skill-up. 

●        You have crafted a lost toy!  You have gained a +10% skill boost in the Toy Making skill.  For completing a legendary feat, you gain one level in the skill!

●        Your Toy Making skill has increased to Novice!

Well, that was nice, I supposed.  I did learn a few new blueprints, though I wasn’t certain how useful Toy Making was going to be in the grand scheme of things.  Then, I got another prompt.

●        Your Crafting has increased to Journeyman!  Select a Crafting perk!

I inhaled sharply.  Apparently, the bonus skill level hit both my Toy Making skill as well as my Crafting skill, granting them both a single level.  Where Toy Making had been a near waste of time, the Crafting skill increase was mind boggling. 

After I recovered from sheer shock, I looked into the perks for the highly illegal skill and whistled. 

●        Craftsman Needs No Tools: Who needs a workbench?  You can do all of your crafting by hand.  Use your thumb as a screwdriver, your forehead as a hammer, whatever you want!  The sky's the limit!

●        Only the Best: All Crafting skill checks are one degree more successful.

●        Maximum Overdrive: Time required to craft an item is reduced by 90%.

All of those were amazing.  I sat considering them for a long moment before choosing Only the Best.  I could always find tools, and time was usually not much of a concern for my crafting.  Always getting one degree of success higher in checks was going to be amazing.

I quickly attempted to make another train and was rewarded with another prompt.

●        You have critical success when making a Train.  Legendary toys are not eligible to be Masterworks.

The train looked just like my last one, which had also been a critical success.  The levels of success at my skill level were critical failure, failure, partial success, success, critical success and Masterwork.  Technically, there were a few levels below critical failure, just like there were a few levels above Masterwork.  I wasn’t sure how astronomically one would have to fuck up to achieve something lower than critical failure, but I did know a bit about the levels over Masterwork.  To reach those, you had to be working on higher tier crafting plans. 

A Legendary item fell slightly outside those rules.  My wooden train could never fail worse than a critical failure, which would consume all of the materials but provide you no train.  Nor could you get above a critical success, which gave the hand-crafted item an industrial, manufactured look. 

I’d just have to find something a bit harder to work on.  Later.  It was nearly noon, and I was thoroughly bored with this.  I finally decided it was time to wake Badgelor. 

“Shart, I’ll need your help,” I said aloud.

One of Badgelor’s eyes shot open.  “Like hell you will!”  He shook himself and began shrinking down.  Showing the wagon to Badgelor, he nodded.  “That’ll be good enough for the wee ones, but I’ll need you to make something decent for the older kids.”

“How many toys are we talking about here?” I asked.

“There are 107 children in the village, as of this morning.  There is one new baby that will need something soft and a much older boy that needs a sword,” stated Badgelor.

The fact that he knew that offhand was reasonably impressive.  It did raise the question of how he knew about all the kids, though.  Maybe he was taking his job as Badgelor more seriously than I thought.  He didn’t have access to the town menus, as far as I knew.  He had to have been taking a census or something to get the exact numbers.  I set one train off to the side and Shart promptly ate it, banishing it to his extradimensional space.  I held onto the other toy.

Opening the door, I was greeted by Ashe, carrying a lunch tray.  She was quick enough to balance the tray, despite the fact that she was about to open the door with her hip.  Watching her gracefully avoid both falling and spilling the tray reminded me of a ballerina.  

Her eyes went wide, as she looked into the room.  She immediately noticed the lack of giant trash piles.  Equally noticeable was its replacement, the pile of salvaged materials.  She looked at me for a moment, standing before her with Badgelor on my shoulder.  Then, she actually tittered. 

“What’s so funny?” I asked, as she handed over the tray.

“Grebthar and Badgelor leaving the workshop,” she chuckled, as if that explained anything.  I raised an eyebrow at her, and she stopped chuckling.  Her eyebrows rose.  “Really?” she asked.

Spinning on her heel, she walked downstairs, leaving me holding the tray.  On it was a sandwich and a mug of beer, both of which were of good quality.  She had also included some jerky that she’d made especially for Badgelor.  I handed it up to the weasel.  He snuck into the corner and produced a tin of foul smelling sauce to dip them into.  By the time I was done eating, Ashe was back and holding a book.

“I knew I saw this in the library,” she said, flipping through the pages.  She stopped a third of the way in, right before the Eve Before Grebthar Day.  There was a picture of Badgelor and Grebthar leaving a workshop that was stuffed full of materials for making toys.  The only difference I could see was that my room had five benches and Grebthar’s had four.  Badgelor was even gnawing on jerky on Grebthar’s shoulder, just like my Badgelor was on my own shoulder now.

“I’ve never actually seen a picture of Grebthar before,” I commented, taking the book and flipping through it.

“You can’t be serious,” stated Ashe.  “What about the mural in the church?”

“I thought that was Tom Brady and Brad Pitt’s love child,” I chuckled. 

Ashe paused, “I don’t think TomBrady is seeing anyone.”

“Forget I mentioned it,” I replied, realizing she meant one of the townsfolk. 

“Okay, but since you have a moment,” Ashe continued, looking at the remains of my sandwich, “What can you tell me about SueLeeta?”

“She’s nice,” I said, stopping on the first page of the book as the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

“I need more than that.  She has designs on Daddy,” she responded coolly.  I noticed her knife was out.  She was testing the point on her finger while staring at me. 

I was about to close the book when I noticed the words on the first page. 

Grebthar descended from the heavens like a comet,

The Dark Overlord stirred in his Tomb of Shadows.

Chapter 5: Whistle While You Work

I was pretty sure I could take Ashe.  I was also pretty sure that doing so was a terrible idea.  Instead, I answered a few of her questions before creating a means of distraction and escaping.

“You are an ass!” exclaimed Badgelor.

“It's not my fault you’re aerodynamic,” I replied, as we exited through the southern gate. 

“That was hilarious,” grinned Shart, the usual candidate for my aerodynamic tests.

“She stabbed me,” growled Badgelor.

“Like that even bothers you anymore,” I replied, as we continued walking.  The path between the village and the docks was starting to show more than a bit of use. 

“It's the principle of the thing,” glowered the badger, as he stomped next to me.  “Besides, why are we going to the docks?”

“Fish stew,” I replied.  Instantly, Badgelor scurried up my back and plopped onto my shoulder.  One thing about being 25 again was that I could eat, pretty much anything I wanted whenever I wanted.  When I’d hit my late 30’s that had stopped for me on Earth, and I had been on a diet just before I’d died. 

I wondered if the lack of strength due to the microscopic portions of food which was all I’d been permitted to eat had contributed to my death. 

“Really?” he asked.  He was becoming so excited that he couldn’t sit still.  Finally, he scurried from my shoulder to the top of my head for a better vantage point.  His claws were very sharp.

The lone pier I had seen the first time we’d claimed the beach now had company.  It turned out that a fishing boat needed a fair amount of shore support to actually accomplish anything.  There was more to fishing than just launching the boat.  Who knew?  Fishermen, probably, of which I was not.  Given that food had been a high priority, accompanying facilities had quickly been built.  Mar had coordinated it, and now we had the dock, two large open buildings on either side of the dock, and the beginnings of a boardwalk.

“Glorious Robert and Splendid Gloria have been busy,” I murmured, as we closed.  The obvious haste of the construction was evident the closer we got.  The buildings were truly ramshackle affairs, and the boardwalk was more of an idea than anything else.  Still, I thought it was pretty impressive for the amount of time that had passed. 

The first quick trench that Badgelor had frantically dug looked like it had been expanded.  A second, much larger boat was being laid down in it.  I dug up the town menu but didn’t see a new boat listed.  That meant it was a private affair.  I did a quick check in menu time while I walked and found that Splendid Gloria had been making purchases from the Saw Mill for reasonably large sums of money.

As I got close to the trench, I heard Glorious Robert yelling, screaming really, at all of his people to get the lead out.  He wanted that boat finished right now.  I walked right past him.  That fireplug of a man was in a mood.  Besides, I smelled something good.

One of the two buildings had the delicious scents of a kitchen.  In the front was a large counter with a dozen wooden bar stools spread out evenly.  A large sign up top proclaimed “No singing”.  Splendid Gloria was behind the counter, dividing her time between reading something and stirring a huge, bubbling pot.  I picked an empty chair and plopped down.  Without missing a beat, Splendid Gloria had a bowl of something that smelled great in her hands.

“I’ll need something for Badgelor, too,” I commented, as she placed the bowl in front of me.

Splendid Gloria was still reading but gestured toward the back of the building.  “Scraps are back there.”

I was about to protest, but Badgelor had already leapt off my head like a missile and was racing to get at the pile of scraps.  He was noisily crunching on bones by the time Splendid Gloria closed her book.

“This tastes great,” I commended, swallowing a mouthful. 

“Basstown clam chowder,” she said, emphasizing the ‘der’.  It sounded like there was an ‘ah’ hiding in there somewhere.  “It's a specialty.  The clams here are pretty good.  I got a bunch of kids who bring me in some every day for coppers and breakfast.”

“Good for them,” I said.

“Well, they should be in school,” she mentioned.  “That’s none of my business, though.”

I coughed.  I did have a quest to get a school built.  I was going to have to increase the priority on that.  “So, I see the new boat is going well.”

“It's a ship,” stated Splendid Gloria, glancing over at her husband.  “Be careful there.  It’d be an insult to confuse the two.  But, yes, it is going quite well.  It should be done in a few weeks.  Then, we can really start hauling in the fish.”

She positively salivated at getting into some deeper waters.  The smaller fishing boat that they were currently using generally stayed near the coast and inside our barrier, whenever possible.  That was becoming less possible the more they fished.  Still, they had lived without a barrier in Basstown; they knew how to cope with danger.

“You figure that sea monsters would be a bigger problem out in the ocean,” I mentioned while continuing to eat.

“Your point?” she replied before gesturing back toward her husband.  “You see my man over there?  He’s an adventurer.  He eats monsters for breakfast.”

Almost as if on queue, Glorious Robert yelled over, “Is that damn badger going through our garbage again?  If he is, send him over here.  I’ll give him some real fish, if he digs out this trench some more.”

Badgelor flipped him off.  He was already in heaven with the scraps.

“What kind of fish?” I yelled back politely.

“Oh, it's the mayor,” yelled Glorious Robert.  “Tell your badger to help us, then.  I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Badgelor, they have fish,” I coaxed.

“I already have the best parts,” he replied.

“You’d get to tear up the ground,” I commented.

He considered that.  In his largest, Ultimate Badgelor form, he was capable of some stupendous excavation.  The problem was that such digging was generally frowned upon in town.  Even outside of town, I didn’t really like him tearing up the ground to the degree he was capable of. 

“Murder the ground,” I said slowly in Badger.  “Pretend it's Charles.”

“I know you are playing me, but I’m still going to do it,” said Badgelor.  He climbed out of the fish guts and began expanding in size until he was as tall as a horse but much wider.  As soon as Badgelor got to the trench, a steady cloud of sand was kicked out.  He was tearing into the ground like a chainsaw through a wedding cake.

Glorious Robert came and sat down next to me, his wife dropping a steaming bowl of chowder into place right as soon as he arrived.  He grinned at her wickedly.  She blushed before remembering they had an audience.  This caused her to frown slightly, which made Glorious Robert laugh heartily.  He slapped my back hard enough to rock me in my chair.

“You are a solid one,” stated Glorious Robert, as he got around to eating his own portion.

“Aren’t you going to oversee the trench?” I asked.  Massive sprays of sand were shooting into the air like volcanic plumes.  As Badgelor dug, the debris became more rock than sand.

“I got people for that,” stated Glorious Robert.  “Margwal is in charge of excavations, and Hansa is around for troubleshooting.”

Those were two of Sir Dalton’s wards.  All ten of the young women he’d sent from his estate near Narwal had integrated themselves into the town quite readily.  Of course, it helped that they were all quite skilled in one thing or another.  Margwal turned out to be quite the little civil engineer and Hansa’s curious nature was expressed through tinkering with just about anything. 

“I’m surprised you got Margwal in the sun,” I replied, remembering how nearly snow white her skin was.

“I didn’t.  Get her in the sun, at least,” stated Glorious Robert, gesturing toward a young woman.  That same young woman was gesturing wildly at my badger.  Margwal was wearing a broad-brimmed hat and a full body covering that left only her head partially exposed.  The stream of rocks and mud suddenly changed course, and she quieted somewhat.

“She seems to have things well in hand,” I commented.

“Mining and excavation are her fortes, though she’s no slouch in getting basic structures built, either,” replied Glorious Robert.  “That drydock is basically just a trench with some supporting buildings, and the trench is the hard part.  I was lucky to get her.  She’s got a waiting list a mile long.”

I remembered Mar mentioned using an expert to get the new farms all arranged based on my plans.  When I’d placed them on the town map, it wasn’t a precise final location by any means.  Mar had it in his power to adjust them, taking into account local conditions.  I’d been mostly right, but he’d had someone knowledgeable making sure the new fields wouldn’t flood or anything.  I was willing to bet that Margwal was Mar’s expert.

Suddenly, there was quiet.  I heard several birds begin to chirp rhythmically.  Glorious Robert spun around in his chair and, in one deft motion, threw a wooden spoon half-way across the partially completed boardwalk.  The spoon smacked the red head in the ass just hard enough to ruffle her clothing.  “No singing!” he shouted.

He gestured toward the large sign, which now made a lot more sense.  Hansa pouted daintily.  She was a young lady of medium height, cursed with an incredibly cute face.  Pretty much anything she could do would look adorable.  She spotted me, and her pout vanished.  She quickly made a beeline toward the counter.

“Don’t set anything down that you want to keep,” stated Splendid Gloria.  She had already picked up her book and the spoon she was cooking with.

“Mister Mayor,” greeted Hansa sweetly, as she drew nearer.  The young lady practically bounced as she moved.  It was impossible to tell if her exuberance was from a large amount of pent up energy or just her natural youth. 

“And I’m chopped cod,” grumbled Glorious Robert who continued to eat. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Foreman,” she exclaimed.  She threw her arms around him and hugged tightly.  I expected a reaction from Splendid Gloria, but she just rolled her eyes.  Hansa’s youth and enthusiasm seemed to save her from the wrath of a wife watching her fervently embrace her husband. 

“So, you troubleshoot things?” I asked, causing Hansa to stop hugging Glorious Robert and spin around to me.  For being in a construction zone, she sure was improperly dressed.  The wide, flowy, blue and green dress twirled around in the air as she walked. The swishing sounds the skirts made reminded me of the fluttering of birds’ wings. 

“I already finished troubleshooting everything,” she grumbled.  “I fixed the block and tackle and got a new shovel design made.  It makes the sand here come up so much easier.  Now, I’m bored.”

Glancing over, I noticed that the beach goers were using a flat-headed transfer shovel rather than the more conventional shovel we were using in town where the soil was much. . .dirtier. 

“And the big meanie won’t let me sing,” said Hansa, frowning at Glorious Robert.

“Whenever you sing, we lose fifteen minutes of production.  Besides, Badgelor is digging now.  We don’t always have him around to help us,” stated Glorious Robert, looking to me for help. 

I decided the best course of action was to eat more chowder, but, as I reached for my spoon, I realized it was missing.  Looking up, I saw Hansa had it in her hands and was kind of dancing around with it.  Splendid Gloria handed me a new spoon.

“She’s a kleptomaniac?” I asked softly.

“She’s saved us nearly fifteen gold in upkeep with her wild ideas.  That transfer shovel plan alone saved me a few days.  I don’t know why I didn’t think of it myself.  If Hansa wants to steal a spoon, I’m fine with it,” replied Splendid Gloria. 

“The problem is that it never stops with a spoon,” grumbled Glorious Robert, clearing his throat.  “Hansa, do we need to have Margwal search you again?”

Hansa suddenly became aware of what was going on and deposited the spoon back into my mouth with a plop.  “Sorry, I was thinking about something.”

“Does it have anything to do with the ship or the drydock?” asked Splendid Gloria patiently.

“No,” replied Hansa glumly.

“Badgelor is digging a trench,” I offered, hoping to cheer her. 

Hansa immediately perked up.  “I’ll just go check on him.  It would be an honor to offer Badgelor my assistance.”  Off she went, racing toward the ever expanding cloud of debris that was the trench. 

“She’s lucky she’s so cute.  It's hard to stay angry with her,” said Splendid Gloria with a resigned smile.

“Speak for yourself,” said Glorious Robert, giving me a hard side-eye.  “Jim, you fancy a sparring match?”

Chapter 6: The Fanciest of Footwork

You could technically spar anywhere, but, like most places where a friendly duel was likely to occur, the docks had a place set aside for it.  Apparently, the practice was for two people to challenge each other while a third person walked around the field with a bunch of stakes and some string to mark the area.  If the boundaries were drawn like that, the duel would automatically default to those dimensions every time.  Then, people could build around it without worrying that their future building would become a violent sparring zone.

“Alrighty, welcome to my yard,” proclaimed Glorious Robert, as he dug out two practice swords and tossed one to me.  They were actually simple swords, completely unenchanted.  The duel settings would render us incapable of permanently damaging one other.  “After I bust ya up a bit, I’ll help you figure out how to not run off when you duel with Sir Dalton next time.”

“I didn’t run off.  I had to do some mayoring,” I grumbled indignantly, as I accepted the prompt for the duel. 

“Sure you did, ya skeezer.”  With that, the large ball of destruction that was Glorious Robert was off.  The muscular fisherman was a shorter man, allowing him to come in low to the ground.  That might have been an advantage with some of his partners, but I had been fighting goblins since I landed on Ordinal. 

I parried a few of his strikes and used my bracer to block another.  Riposting, I drove him back a pace.  He attempted to immediately go back on the offensive, but I used my Quick Strike skill to launch a follow-up swing.  He wasn’t ready and was caught off-balance.  I executed a Hack and Slash. 

The three blows all narrowly missed, as he moved away from each strike.  His absence of any significant movement allowed him to stay on the inside position, and Glorious Robert took the initiative.  He launched a Powerful Blow toward my chest.  I was wearing my leather armor, but a shot to the midsection would be painful.  I Dodged the blow, landing several feet back and readied a Thrust.

“Hold the fuck up,” yelled Glorious Robert, as he stared at me.  “Do you not know how to avoid attacks?”

“I avoided your attack,” I answered, slowing my pace.  There usually wasn't much talking while a duel was ongoing.

“You Dodged, like a Rogue,” said Glorious Robert.

“So?” I replied, not understanding his point.

“What is your Footwork skill at?” he growled.

I paused for a long moment. Uh-oh.  “What is Footwork?”

Glorious Robert let his sword lower, as he took his face in his free hand.  “You are telling me that you've been fighting all this time without Footwork?”

“What is Footwork?” I asked again. 

“You know how Rogues avoid attacks by Dodging out of the way?” replied Glorious Robert. “Well, that usually leaves you out of place for follow-up attacks.  Footwork is the skill Warriors use.  It's similar to Dodge, but, instead of big movements, you try to move as little as possible.”

I had Thrust as one of my Duelist talents.  If I Dodged out of the way of an attack and I needed to close, I could just use my Thrust attack to close the distance again.  When Thrust was on cooldown, though, I’d found myself out of position for an attack more than once. 

The Warrior skill tree had access to Mitigate, Block, and Parry.  I hadn’t really realized that the Warrior skills included something to move your body.  In retrospect, that had been foolish.  I was just using Dodge, despite it being more costly to perform in heavier armor. 

Glorious Robert raised his sword and stomped back over to the starting spot.  “Maybe try to fight like a Warrior, for once.  See if that works out any better for you.”

I moved back to the starting area and thought about it.  It would be like the arrow catching trick all over again.  I would just have to Dodge the least amount possible.  Bringing my weapon back to the ready position, I stood and waited for Glorious Robert to advance again.

He did not disappoint, coming in with a flurry of blows that were just inside my ability to sidestep.  As I continued weaving and avoiding the attacks, I got a prompt.

●        You have learned about the Skill Footwork.  You are unskilled.  Give me an inch; that’s all I’ll need.

●        Footwork is compatible with the Dodge skill.  You have learned Fancy Footwork.  All Dodge and Footwork Skill Points have been contributed to Fancy Footwork.  You are a Novice at Fancy Footwork.

Suddenly, the slight moves I was making to avoid attacks were easier and costing less Stamina, but there was an issue.  When Glorious Robert sidestepped he always managed to move around an inch out of the way.  I was just barely avoiding the slices, often by only a hair's breadth.  That gave me no margin of error and frequently let Glorious Robert tag me with his training sword with glancing blows.  Meanwhile, I could practically feel my Dodge skill melting away at the same time.  After Glorious Robert launched a particularly good slash, I attempted to Dodge backward.  I only got a fraction of my normal distance. 

“You were doing fine!  What was that?” shouted Glorious Robert.  He adopted the expression of someone looking in his menus.  “Fancy Footwork?  That’s a new one.”

“You can see my skills?” I asked, dumbfounded.  I had a perk and a magical item.  Both were designed to keep my stat sheet away from prying eyes.

“Of course!  I was teaching you.  I have the Mentor skill at Expert Rank,” stated Glorious Robert.  “It lets me train up a skill faster for others, provided I can train it at all.  I was trying to train you in Footwork, but that skill evolved rather quickly into Fancy Footwork.”

“Evolved?” I asked.

“You are from the sticks,” replied Glorious Robert.  “Look, the gods may have put all living creatures in this world here in their shapes, but sometimes a creature, skill, or ability has a compatibility with where they are.  If that happens, they will eventually evolve into something better.”

“What about natural selection?” I asked, still not entirely used to how Ordinal threw out technical terms.

“Natural Selection?  Your first menu selection when you were a child?” asked Glorious Robert.  “I don’t think that applies here.”

“Sorry.  So, about my skill evolving. . .” I continued, once again giving up on Ordinal terminology.

Glorious Robert just shook his head.  “If you learn skills that are particularly compatible with each other, like Dodge and Footwork, you’ll get an enhanced version of those skills.  Then, you can apply either to your defense.”

“Couldn’t I do that before?” I asked.  Glorious Robert blew out a long breath.  I heard him mutter  something that sounded suspiciously like, “Oh, boy.”

“Unless you didn’t plan on using your feet for both skills,” he answered.  “You can use Block or Parry.  Those are variations on the same theme, but parry uses a weapon, and block uses a shield or bracer.  Footwork and Dodge both require you to move out of the way, and you almost always have to use your feet to do that.  Therefore, you get a skill overlap.”

“Ah, yes, those suck,” I said, guessing from his tone.

“At least you understand the basics,” replied Glorious Robert.  He adopted a more relaxed position.  “You know, I could train you a few hours a day in your Fancy Footwork skill.  Get you all ready for the dungeon.”

It occurred to me then that I hadn’t actually invited anyone to go with me to the dungeon.  I’d certainly discussed it, but I’d have to mind my manners and actually ask some people to accompany me.  Glorious Robert was looking at me expectantly, though.

“That sounds great!  I would love some training,” I replied.  Glorious Robert nodded.  “Why only a few hours a day though?”

Looking particularly pleased with himself, Glorious Robert responded, “The Mentoring skill only provides bonus experience for a few hours each day.  I’d normally charge a bunch for this, but, as a personal favor to you, I’ll do it for free.”

That sounded fantastic.

Chapter 7: Personal Growth

“Well, aren't you Mister Fancy Pants,” said Shart, as he plopped back down on my shoulder.  It was early evening, and I was finally leaving the docks. Glorious Robert and I had trained until after the final bell sounded, and everyone left for the day.  Badgelor had become bored and wandered back to the kitchen hours ago.  As my demon and I headed back, I heard Hansa singing the Go Home song from somewhere in town.  I figured the badger was doomed. 

“I got a ton of Skill Points,” I groaned, still awed by my rapid skill boost.  The Mentor skill gave its user the ability to be treated as an enemy for skill training purposes, which allowed you to practice your skills with that person much more effectively.  At higher ranks, the Mentoring skill gave your students additional Skill Points.  It also gave a host of other benefits, like faster skill gains, higher skill limits, and longer training windows.  The three hours a day that Glorious Robert could train me represented all that an Expert could manage.

What I’d learned about skills, between Glorious Robert’s attempts to smash my face in with his sword, was that there were normally caps on your maximum skill level.  These caps were based on your class level, at least for adventurers.  Normal people didn’t have skill caps, but they also advanced much more slowly.  By level 15, a normal adventurer could train up to Journeyman in a skill, or the Talented rank in a skill critical to his class, like Sword for Duelist.  A Mentor could bump that up a level, which is how someone like Sir Dalton had so many combat skills at Expert rank.

Glorious Robert had finally laid out the full skill rank list for me which went: Unskilled, Amateur, Novice, Initiate, Journeyman, Talented, Expert, Advanced, Master, Grand Master, and finally Divine.  Each higher rank has a significant cost increase over the previous rank.  Perks were awarded at rank four, Journeyman, and then every 2 ranks beyond that.  

“Since I don’t have skill limits, could I just train up to the highest rank in all of my skills?” I asked Shart as we walked.

“To Divine rank?” asked the demon.  “Sure, I suppose, but Divine rank requires more than just spending Skill Points.  You’d have to complete your Trials first.”

“What are those?” I asked, picking up a stone and carving a small frost rune into it.

“Sort of like your Beast Lord Path.  They are trials you need to overcome to achieve the next rank on top of the Skill Points required,” answered Shart.

“Sounds complicated,” I said, tossing the rock aside.  It landed on the ground and popped, sending ice shards in all directions. 

“There’s always the Demon Door,” replied Shart, and I groaned.  It looked like I was going to need to double down on my skills, probably forever.  I needed to plan out my progress this time, though.  No more clowning around. 

I entered the eastern gate, just as everyone was dispersing from a Hansa-inspired musical number.  Badgelor waddled over to me and climbed back onto my shoulder.

“That was hell,” he said.

“You guys left a while ago,” I replied. 

“She sang the whole way back, and then she did something called a power ballad,” stated Badgelor.

“Did you get any buffs?” asked Shart curiously.

“Yup.  Believe in Yourself, which grants me a +1 to my Willpower,” answered the badger. 

“That’s not bad,” I said, as we continued walking.  Well, as I continued walking.  My unruly passengers continued to bitch. 

“It is, if it takes an hour to get,” replied the badger, shaking his head.  “Look, I like a good song number just as much as the next badger.  Holding me up in the air and yelling ‘Oval of Living’ was a bit much, though.”

“Did Margwal join in?” I asked.  She was a high soprano.  Her singing caused the hairs on the back of my neck to stand up when she hit the really high notes.

“Only for one song, Some Day my Prints will come,” said the badger glumly.  He rather liked the high soprano. Margwal still wanted a Scribe in town to draw up plans.  

We walked in relative silence for another few minutes.  As Windfall Manor came into view, Badgelor leapt down and went through the little badger entrance built into the front door.  I opened the door and followed him in, only to find Badgelor sitting on his haunches.  Sir Dalton glared at me.

“Kitchen, now!”

Chapter 8: An Encounter in a Kitchen

Zorlando was already sitting in the kitchen, stroking his magnificent mustache.  The Mercenary was wearing the most innocent expression I’d ever seen on a man.  None of my servants were in the building, leaving just the three of us roommates at this impromptu meeting.  Sir Dalton followed me in, looking as massive and angry as I’d ever seen him.  My loyal Beast Companion followed me in and wandered over to the ice box.

“What’s going on, Dalton?” I asked, finding a chair in the corner.  Part of me wanted to stay standing, in an attempt to be on the same level as Dalton.  However, he was already so much taller than me that it didn't matter much.  Plus, this looked like it might take a while. 

Sir Dalton looked like a volcano about to erupt.  “I have evidence that someone has broken into this house!”

I immediately checked the house security log, which said that wasn’t true.  Then again, a competent thief probably had skills that would prevent him from showing up in the log.  Finally, I asked, “What makes you think that?”

“I found this in Ashe’s office,” stated Sir Dalton, pulling out a small men’s comb and brandishing it like a tiny sword.  Ashe had a small office in the actual servants’ quarters, complete with a cot for sleeping.  It wasn’t comfortable, but it was very private.  Badgelor strode over to Sir Dalton with a large drumstick in his hand and sniffed the air around the comb loudly.  He proceeded to chuckle like a loon before turning and vacating the room. 

“Moron,” commented Shart, staring after the badger.

“Thieves usually don’t leave things,” I said calmly, watching Badgelor’s hindquarters disappear around the corner.  I again checked the log.  The only men that had been in the house over the last few days were Sir Dalton, Zorlando, and myself.  I didn’t see any particularly hairy women mentioned in the log, either.   

“I didn’t say they broke into the house to steal anything!” thundered Sir Dalton.  “At least, not something as banal as possessions.  No, no, what I’m thinking is far worse.”

“Sir Dalton and thinking don’t really fit together in a sentence too well,” thought Shart.  I growled.

“What do you believe this thief’s motives are, then?”  I asked.

“Only the most scandalous of purposes,” said Sir Dalton, his lower lip trembling.  “I believe that the criminal has intentions on my daughter, Ashe.”

“Ashe?  My maid?” I asked, considering the situation.  She didn’t seem like the kind of person who’d sneak someone into the house.  I was under the impression that her main hobby was digging up dirt on SueLeeta. 

“My daughter, who’s virtue I swore to protect, is being molested in this very house.”

“What if she wasn’t being molested?  What if, instead, she had entered into a mutually desired relationship?” asked Zorlando.

“Poppycock!” exclaimed Sir Dalton.  “My daughters know that they are free to date, as long as I am able to meet with their boyfriends first.”

“Do you have any theories on who this man could be?” I asked.

“Alas, no,” grumbled Sir Dalton, before a light came on in his very dim head.  “Zorlando, she seems to hang around you a lot!  Do you have any ideas?”

Zorlando coughed loudly into his cup.  “Um, no.  I am unaware of anyone but me.”

“Curses,” said Dalton, as he pondered.  He began to walk maniacally around the kitchen in circles.  “Well, that shortens the list of suspects.”

I nodded. I picked up the small comb and pried a bit of mustache wax from it.  Narrowing my eyes, I glanced at Zorlando. A very short list of suspect, indeed.

“It cannot be Jim, of course,” said Sir Dalton, ticking through a checklist on his fingers.

“Because the curse has rendered him impotent,” replied Zorlando.  I frowned at him.  No curse had rendered me impotent.  The fact that my housemates persisted in this belief was a continued matter of dismay to me.  Yelling about my great potency now would not benefit anyone, though.  Least of all, me.

“Everyone in the town knows that,” continued Dalton, before he wheeled around in a flash of insight. “Zorlando!”

“I’m sorry, my dear friend,” exclaimed the Mercenary Captain in anguish.

“Worry not, brave companion!  You could not have known,” said Sir Dalton proudly.  “Do not fear!  You and I will investigate this and find the culprit.”

Zorlando’s eyes widened.  “Yes, the culprit,” he agreed, after a moment.  “Just out of curiosity, you are Ashe’s father by. . .”

“Adoption,” finished Sir Dalton.

“Is this inane discussion almost finished?” Shart asked.  “Now that we have the blind leading the stupid over here, I am sure there are better things to be doing.”

“That’s your only problem with this?” I asked.  “That Dumb and Dumber are teaming up to solve a non-crime?”

“Yes.  Neither of these two bubbling fools are ever going to figure this out.  The only good that will come from this is that the two village idiots will be occupied and unable to cause other havoc.”

“Are you sure that Zorlando is the best assistant?” I ventured, as Zorlando processed what an assistant would be doing in this endeavor.  His eyes grew wider and wider.  A proper schemer would happily take the role as the person investigating themselves.  Unfortunately, Zorlando was just the right combination of honest and braggart that would make such a role hell.

“Alas, no,” said Sir Dalton.  “However, in this, I must choose trust over competence.  I know Zorlando has my back!”

“Wow, the Knight thinks Mustache Man is the incompetent one,” Shart snarked.  “Wait. . .”

“She’s an adult.  She can pick her own romantic partners,” I said.

“I don’t care that she’s having a romantic relationship,” stated Sir Dalton.  “She is a good and proper young woman.  Her heart is free to anyone she chooses.”

“”Why go through all this, then?” I asked.

“She didn’t introduce me,” whined Sir Dalton, stomping his foot like an overgrown toddler.  “She doesn’t need my permission, nor my approval.  I’d still like to meet the man and give her my blessing.  Look, Ashe is the most responsible of all my daughters.  I am quite confident that she will choose well.  She knows this, yet she is hiding her new boyfriend from me.  I want to know why!”

“Why the rush?” I asked, deciding to stay out of it as much as possible.

Sir Dalton pulled out a very formal looking letter and placed it in front of me.  At first, I thought it was a page off a laser printer.  That was a ridiculous thought on Ordinal.  Looking closer, I realized that a very high-level scribe must have written it.  Reading through it quickly, I glanced back up at Sir Dalton.

“You are going off to war?” I asked.

“I shall have to depart Windfall shortly after the holiday,” replied Sir Dalton, flexing his hands as if holding an invisible sword.  “Fenris brought the summons from Lord Dookie with the last caravan.  I’d invite any adventurers in town to come with me, but I would understand if they did not.  Not everyone would wish to fight for a kingdom that was not theirs.”

“Good to know,” I said, nodding.  “Do you still have time for the dungeon?”

Sir Dalton nodded briskly.  “I have sufficient time to take care of that, as well as find this ne'er-do-well.”

“What happens if he’s not a ne’er-do-well?” ventured Zorlando.  “Perhaps he is just a soldier.  I mean, what kind of man would you have her choose?”  He truly was proving the bravery of a Mercenary Captain.

“Someone stalwart and dependable, like you, Zorlando,” stated Sir Dalton, totally glossing over the implications of the question.

“Well, then, I have some good news,” replied Zorlando.  Sir Dalton kept on talking.

“Also,” continued Sir Dalton, “He should have a permanent job.  Preferably, he should also be an adventurer, like myself.”  The hope that had reared in Zorlando’s eyes died at the second proclamation.

“Yeah, okay.  I get it now,” Shart nodded.  “Dumbass dramatic human nincompoops.”

“Took you long enough,” I said.

“I pay little attention to trite human sexual interactions,” replied Shart.  “At most, they are sometimes good for a laugh.  Normally, they are dumb, emotionally-driven nonsense that only serve to cause distractions.”

“How could any normal man do that?  An adventurer with a permanent job?” asked Zorlando, his face downcast.  “It's not like any amount of training will suddenly turn a soldier into an adventurer.  Maybe she is just looking for someone who treats her well and will make her happy.”

“Possibly,” stated Sir Dalton, in what would pass for his version of thoughtfulness.  “It would take a special man to pull that off, though.”

Zorlando thought about that for a moment, then nodded.  “Well, I will have to find you this special man!”

“That’s the spirit,” stated Sir Dalton enthusiastically.  “For now, I will be Detective Dalton and find the culprit!”

With that, the big man walked out of the kitchen and vanished up the stairs.  Zorlando still stood in the corner, girding himself for the task at hand.

“You are a crazy man, Zorlando,” I ventured.

“Love makes you do crazy things,” he replied with a flourish.

Chapter 9: An Errant Mage

I spent the evening making toys under Badgelor’s cruel gaze.  He had managed to find some more dipping sauce for his turkey leg and was loudly chewing while I worked.  The stuff smelled terrible, but Badgelor found some every night.  I’d have to talk to Ashe about it eventually.  Hopefully, there was a way to stop ordering it.  Its odor of ginseng and oysters permeated the air. Bright and early the next morning, I made a quick trip to the Golden Badger.  I was still considering what to spend my time on before the dungeon opened.  I sat down with Mar and Blots.  Both were sitting at the same table but still doing their level best to ignore each other. 

“Sir,” stated Mar, as I sat.

“Most illustrious mayor,” greeted Blots, as I settled in. 

Mar side eyed Blots, “What are your current brilliant plans for the town?”

“Yes, someone with your good looks and intelligence must have a brilliant plan!” continued Blots. 

It went downhill from there.  Eventually, I decided to change the topic of conversation from brown-nosing to something more productive.

“How are preparations for Grebthar Day going?” I asked no one in particular.

Mar chimed in before Blots could.  “Very well, Sir!  The phoenix’s feast is prepared and everything is going swimmingly.”

“Didn’t someone mention a parade?” I asked.

“Of course,” cut in Blots smoothly.  “That’s on Badger’s Day, though.  It marks the beginning of the celebration.  It’s only three days away!”

“Wait, how does this work again?” I asked, becoming confused.  There were a lot of terms associated with this holiday.  It sounded like it wasn’t just a one day affair.

“What do you mean?” questioned Blots.

“He means the whole thing.  He always means the whole thing,” sighed Mar, not quite rolling his eyes.  I really dislike that man.  “The mayor used to live out in the sticks.  He’s not used to civilization.”

“Oh,” said Blots, looking at me strangely for a moment, “Well, the holiday officially starts on Badger’s Day.  There is a parade to celebrate Grebthar going through the Demon Door.  It’s also where we show off for Badgelor.  After the parade, there is a big party and the kids dress up.  We have a demon door set up, so people can jump through it. It's all sorts of fun.  ”

“And that’s not a real Demon Door?” I asked.

“No, Dum Dum, it's not.  It's a big fake demon door, just like the last time you asked,” growled Shart to me mentally.  “You can stop rubbing it in now.”

“No, it's just wood.  I had CarpenterJohn fix up the town’s old demon door.  It's in tip-top shape for the celebration.  We are going to use the entire square.  While the adults party, the kids will be going around and getting bait from everyone’s porches,” Mar droned.

“Bait?” I asked.

“Candy,” replied Blots, taking control of the conversation.  “The kids need to leave out bait for Badgelor.”

“You like candy?” I yelled out to Badgelor.

“I fecking love the stuff,” he replied, trying to get his posterior closer to the fire.  In the time we had been at the inn, the badger had already eaten his breakfast of electric yellow rat.

“Well, Badgelor says he loves the stuff,” I said.  Both men smiled.

“Later that evening, Badgelor will break into their houses and steal their presents and candy.  Then, he will leave them new presents,” finished Blots, grinning at Mar. 

“Why steal their old toys?” I questioned.

“Grebthar was all about efficiency.  You couldn’t just have a silly old bobble sitting around for no reason,” chuckled Mar, before he checked himself.  “In olden days, Badgelor took toys the kids had outgrown.  Now, most kids just put out a broken toy, for appearances’ sake.”

“Well, that’s something,” I said, taking a bite of my breakfast. 

“The next day is the Lag, or Grebthar’s Eve,” stated Blots, “Depending on which kingdom you come from.”

“The Lag?” I asked.

“Nothing really happens on that date.  There is a bit of a feast in the town square.  Most families spend the day together,” replied Blots.  “Typically, there is a lot of shopping done, replacing broken items and the like.”

“Okay, seems odd that you’d wait for a specific day to fix stuff, but whatever,” I said.  Both men chuckled politely.

“Then, on Grebthar Day, we just have one huge party,” stated Mar.  “It's what you do whenever anyone ReMorts.”

“ReMorts?” I asked, sighing.  I was coming off as much more of an idiot than I normally did.

“When Grebthar went through the Demon Door, he’d be dropped back down to level one.  Then, he had to do all that leveling up all over again.  Wherever he reappeared, they had a huge party for him.  That’s kind of the tradition now,” stated Blots.

“Mind you, almost no one ReMorts in this age.  The scribes have histories on it, though.  We know it's still possible,” replied Mar.

“Not even the kings?” I asked.

“Certainly not,” replied Blots, shaking his head.  “It takes years to recover from a ReMorting.  While in recovery, you aren't that much more powerful than a normal man.  A king would almost certainly be assassinated when he ReMorted.”

“Honestly, I don’t think anyone has ReMorted in a hundred years, at least,” stated Mar, as he used a biscuit to sop up some gravy.  “Imagine being at max level and then turning into nothing.”

Blots actually chuckled, “Staring down a dragon one day and being scared of a rabbit three days later.”

I excused myself and wandered out of the Golden Badger.  Badgelor waved me off, choosing to stay on the hearth and rest.  He had already had a hard day of eating and deserved a break.  Shart yawned expansively on my shoulder.  “I could have told you all that.”

“But you didn’t,” I responded.  “You were sitting in the corner with your thumb up your butt.”  We headed toward the northeastern wall.  I had some time before I was to meet up with Glorious Robert for training.  I figured I might as well do some mayoring.  Shart groaned.

“More of this nonsense,” muttered the demon.  “You know, you could go other places and level up your skills faster.  I mean, it's just a quick trip to Falcon Crest.  There are some high-level trainers over there.”

“And a way to remove you as my companion,” I reminded him.

Shart growled, “Yes, there is a summoning circle that you could use to break our bond over in Falcon Crest.”

“Just a summoning circle?” I asked, intrigued.  “Couldn’t I make one of those here?”

From his shoulder position, Shart began growing uncomfortably warm.  “No, you couldn’t.  You don’t have a high enough rank in the Demon Lore skill to even draw up a simple summoning circle, let alone the kind you’d need to summon me.  I’m an Elder Demon!  One of only two living on Ordinal!  I am great and powerful!  Only the mightiest summoning circle will allow me to be summoned.”

“I thought you couldn’t lie to me?” I asked once Shart finished his spiel.  “You aren’t great or powerful right now.”

Shart grumbled, “I’m more great and powerful than you know.”

I dropped it.  Shart’s inability to lie to me was not as perfect as I had initially been led to believe.  That was a by-product of Shart’s attitude.  In actuality, Shart was fully able to lie but I could tell instantly that he was lying.  The problem was that his opinions were just that, opinions.  They didn’t trip up the filter, even when he presented his theories as facts.  Also, if he “knew” something that turned out to be incorrect, it seemed to slip by as well. 

It was best to say that Shart couldn’t deliberately lie to me, which was a far cry from Shart not being able to lie to me.  Of course, the demon didn’t see it that way. 

Walking past the smithy, I saw a sign posted proclaiming “All out of Nails”.  I brought up the town menu and checked the mine.  It was producing at normal rates, but our stock of iron in town was lower than I expected.  The supply of ready boards was also pretty low, but I guessed that was related to the nails. 

I didn’t see that much unusual construction going on in town, except for the dock to the south.  Making a note for Mar, I kept on walking.  We had enough for the critical projects, at least.  A temporary bottleneck wasn’t going to kill us. 

Flipping through the other town menus, I didn’t see very much of interest.  The castle was receiving the majority of our supplies presently, with enough left over to keep the town reconstruction and repair project running.  With most of the crews over at the castle, though, the pace on those projects had diminished significantly.

Glancing through the menus of the buildings in town, I noticed that they were all either fully repaired or in the process of being fully repaired. . .except one.  It was classified as damaged and appeared to be rapidly decreasing into ruins.  Curious, I turned and headed south, toward the southeastern district.  That was the magical district in town.  It was also the only district that was currently unoccupied, as the only resident had decided to move into the central market.  At least, it should have been. 

Normally, someone would have to go to the location to see who was breaking an already broken building.  I had the town map, so I just brought it up.  I spotted Bashara in close proximity to the destruction. 

“I think she’s gone plum loco,” I said.  Shart raised an eyebrow at me.

“Why?  She’s simply breaking stuff.  You humans spend an inordinate amount of time doing just that,” replied the demon.

“It's what you love about us,” I chided.

“Well, yes,” replied Shart, smiling.  “Destruction is chaos.”  His smile was the thing nightmares were made of.  With that, he poofed away.

I used my Shadow Walker perk, as well as my Stealth skill, to sneak up close to Bashara.  I half expected her to be working out her frustrations on something.  Instead, I found her methodically blasting away at a pillar with a bunch of lines and runes carved around it.  As I watched, she hit it with blasts of fire, ice, acid, and electricity, all in quick succession. 

Each blast chipped away at the pillar without doing any massive damage.  As I watched, she threw a lightning ring around the column, similar to the spell she used on me before.  Then, she began throwing additional rings of ice, fire, and acid.  Bashara was visibly straining as she repeated the process, surrounding the pillar with eight rings in total. 

She reached into her pouch, getting some other nasty trick ready, I’m sure.  However, I was growing bored watching her kill rocks.

“What did that pillar ever do to you?” I asked, stepping out of the shadows.

Bashara’s hand flew from her pouch.  She wheeled toward me, a look of shock on her face.  An instant later, the rings started making some loud popping sounds.  In a flash of blinding white light, all of the rings simultaneously cut out.  That only served to increase Bashara’s look of horror, as the Mana feedback slammed into her. 

“Oh, shit,” I exclaimed, rushing over to help her.  Mana feedback happened whenever a spell ended in an uncontrolled fashion. Like when an unexpected idiot steps out behind you while you are controlling way too much energy.

Bashara was rolling around on the ground, screaming.  In the several seconds before I got to her, I wondered how I should attempt to help her.  As I crouched next to her, the Wizard’s eyes suddenly glowed blue.  The screaming abruptly stopped. 

“Jim, for what do I owe the pleasure of having you sneak up behind me like an assassin?” she asked in more of a polite growl than anything else. 

I gave her my best, innocent, boy smile and said, “I was just checking to see who was blowing up my town.”

“I paid Mar for the right to do some light demolition work,” stated Bashara, sitting up.  “I can’t exactly train with the men.”

“And this is training?” I asked, looking at the destroyed pillar.  There were dozens of scorch marks running up and down the column, far worse than any of the spells could have individually caused. 

“Yes?” answered Bashara questioningly.  After a moment of my uncomprehending expression, she relented.  “I’m trying to get ready for the dungeon.  Causing Durability Damage is a good way to level up magical skills.  It's not quite as effective as practicing against another spellcaster. . .”

She let that hang.  Most people assumed I was some sort of Woodsman, due to Badgelor’s presence.   However, Bashara had actually seen me cast spells. I sighed, “You want to practice?”

“Well, if you insist,” she said, making it sound like I was the one practically begging her to blast me.  A few seconds later, I was standing right next to the pillar, my back against it.  Bashara had taken one step back from her previous casting point.

“How are we going to do this?  You cast, and I generate a barrier?” I asked.

“If that’s the best you can do,” she answered, shrugging.  She grabbed a staff out of her bag.  The rod shouldn’t have fit in the bag, but I was used to extradimensional spaces.  Thanks, Shart.  I just ignored her, causing her to frown slightly.  She was trying to impress the yokel and apparently hadn’t noticed that I had my own extradimensional space. 

“Well, what else can we do?” I asked, flicking up a Flameology barrier, followed by a Biological Aeromancy barrier.  The orange barrier shifted to a sickly green, then back to orange, as I flipped through my magical cores.  I had been running around in Sorcerer mode, and the paths to the cores were slightly different.  This was completely due to the patch job Shart had performed on my Mana network.  Given that Bashara was here, I’d probably need to flip over to Mage mode to prevent embarrassing myself. 

I didn’t drop the barrier when I ‘flipped the switch’ and shifted my Mana network from Sorcerer to Mage.  Those two magical networks were mutually incompatible.  However, with some elbow grease and duct tape, Shart had managed to jury-rig my Mana network into handling one of them at a time.  To get to the other, I had to mentally flip between them.  As I did so, I realized I still had my bright orange barrier active.

The barrier flickered for an instant as two barriers simultaneously appeared, overlapping each other.  My Sorcerer barrier was still active, and the Mage barrier was cramming itself on top of it.  Oh, this is new.  I wasn’t feeding any more power to the Sorcerer barrier, but it seemed to be holding together because of its overlap with the empowered Mage barrier. 

“Shoot,” I yelled, and Bashara frowned.

“That’s not how you. . .” she began but trailed off.  Shaking her head, Bashara leaned her staff against some debris and called out, “Arding.”  A thick icicle formed and flew straight at my empowered barrier.  Time seemed to slow as it got close, which was an aspect of spellcasting that only triggered when two casters were battling each other.  The last time she had hit me with an icicle, it had nearly taken off my arm.

●        Barrier Critically Blocked Strike:  89 Ice Damage vs 120 point barrier.

This one vaporized as it impacted my empowered barrier, leaving Bashara looking shocked for an instant.  Then, she grabbed her staff.  “Let me try that again.”

As she prepared her spell, I realized that the special empowerment of my barrier was gone. Bashara’s spell would not be nearly as easy to dismiss this time.  I had gotten quite a bit better at flipping my Mana networks back and forth, but I wasn’t exactly used to doing it in combat-style conditions. 

As time slowed, I held out both my hands.  A much larger green barrier formed around me.  Bashara took that moment to begin prepping her icicle.  The frozen formation looked bigger, more powerful, and generally meaner than the ones I remembered her casting in the past.

Time seemed to stretch out forever.  Meanwhile, the actual time between when she formed the spell and cast it could have been measured, by an outside observer, in seconds.  The entire time, I was trying to repeat my past trick and failing.  I simply could not flip my spellcasting from Mage mode to Sorcerer mode. 

As the icicle rocketed toward my fragile barrier, I concentrated on making it the hottest, strongest barrier I could manage.  I had the Hardened Barrier perk; maybe I could deflect the spell.  The spell struck the barrier with a horrendous thunk.

●        Block incompatible with spell attack

●        Barrier Breached:  107 Ice Damage vs 60 point barrier.

The barrier slowed the icicle about as much as wet tissue paper would have deflected a bullet.  I had used both my hands to craft the barrier and, as such, had been facing the spell head on.  The icicle didn’t go into my palm, but rather between my outstretched fingers.  It was right on target to hit me square in the head. 

By now, I could already make out the beginnings of a surprised expression on Bashara’s face.  However, the slowed time made even that quick reaction take forever.  It was going to impact my nose and go into my left eye, and there was nothing I could do about it.

●        You have the Evasion perk.  Would you like to dodge the spell?  <Yes/No>

I selected “Yes”, just as the first wave of coldness brushed my cheek.  I felt my head start blasting to the side, as if I was being punched in the face.  All the blood in my head suddenly pooled to the right side, as my head blurred out of the way of the projectile.  The speed was so great, it should have knocked me unconscious.  Magically, the Evasion perk made the whole thing work, and my head snapped back just as the icicle slammed into the pillar behind me.

“What the hell was that?” I yelled, glancing at the obvious dent the icicle had made.

“What the hell was that? What the hell did you just do?” screamed Bashara right back at me.

“That would have taken my head off,” I shouted.

“The first one I shot was an 80 pointer, and you deflected it like it was nothing,” she yelled back. “And you also have the Evasion perk!  How do you have so many perks?”

“I’m the Mayor of Noobtown,” I growled at her.

“What the FUCK does that mean?” she screamed.  “Mayors don’t get a bunch of class-locked combat perks. . .”  She stopped screaming and looked at me.  Whispering, she asked, “What is wrong with you?”

“What do you mean?” I asked defensively.

“You have all this power, and you treat everyone the same,” she stated.  “You are one of the Chosen and you act like commoners mean something to you.”

“Commoners?” I asked.

“You can’t have lived this far in the sticks,” she growled, her voice raising again.  “Professional people, professioned people!  No one even uses that term anymore!  We aren’t adventurers, we are Chosen!  You were nearly in tears when a few of those rabble died fighting your battles.”

“They were fighting for the town,” I said.  “They were fighting for their town.  They sacrificed everything to preserve it.”

“Yes, and we mourn their loss,” sneered Bashara sarcastically.  “Seriously, they are little more than pets.  Yet, you treat them like they are important.”

“They are important,” I argued.

“If I have to mind my manners around your little blond toy again. . .” stated Bashara.

“Drop it,” I growled, a deadly edge of frost creeping into my voice.

●        Intimidate vs Bashara.  Your check has been successful.  Bashara is intimidated for the next 30 seconds.

She paused for a moment, collecting herself.  I could hear her muttering, “And you aren’t even sleeping with her, or me, or anyone.  I am inclined to believe Dalton’s tale of a terrible groin injury, though my sources say it looks spectacular and unmaimed.”

“OttoSherman is not a good judge,” I replied.

“Granted, he seems to find everything attractive in some capacity,” replied Bashara.

“Have you seen how he behaves around EstherSasha?” I asked.

“Or MaGetty,” replied Bashara. 

“I saw him eyeing Kappa once,” I added uncomfortably.

Bashara tried to work up a head of steam again, but she had been diverted.  She didn’t have the energy to work herself back up again.  “Look, I get this old school vibe you are trying to show here, but it's stupid.  You are a Chosen.  You need to act like one.   You could be great, if you tried.”

“I refuse to treat people as if they are less than people,” I said.

“Which you clearly are not going to do,” she smiled, weighing her options, “So, would you like to get back to magical practice?”

I watched her for another long moment.  “Sure.”

She turned around to return to her original spot only to find Badgelor, in War Form, directly behind her.  He was sitting on her staff and shoving something resembling blue noodles into his mouth.  She patted his head and continued walking over to her spot.

“Shall we begin?”

Chapter 10: Windfall Dockside

By the time we were finished blasting or being blasted by magic, I was ready to start practicing with Glorious Robert again.  I bid Bashara farewell and left through the southern gate.

“Well, she seems dangerous,” stated Shart, reappearing on my shoulder now that we were away from Bashara.

“Yup,” I stated grumpily. 

“I say we kill her,” stated Badgelor from my other shoulder.

“I thought you liked her,” I stated.  “You were calling her “Pillow” just last week.

“She betrayed you.  For that, she must die,” stated Badgelor.  “No one crosses me or mine and lives to tell about it.”

“I’m sure we can manipulate this situation to our advantage,” cooed Shart, trying to ease the increasingly heated badger.

“The dungeon has one arcane lock on the outside,” I said, trying to change the subject.  “You think Charles was in there at some point?”

“I’m sure of it,” answered Badgelor.  Now that his mind was fully engaged with killing Charles, he was far less interested in Bashara.

“How likely is it that we are going to need Bashara at the dungeon?” I asked Shart.

“Odds are we will need her to open an arcane lock down there or something,” Shart said, as we continued walking.  “It's a dungeon.  We are going to run into a situation or two where we need a Wizard.  Unfortunately, Bashara is the only one readily available.  We don’t have time to find another one.”

“That is a problem,” I stated, as we turned and continued down another trail.

“It's against my better judgement,” stated Badgelor, but he relented.  He was damn near immune to magic anyway.  If ever there was a perfect tank against a spellcaster, it was Badgelor. 

“But we don’t trust her,” stated Shart.

“Not one damn bit,” I said.  “After the dungeon, I think I’ll ask her to leave the village.”

“Or we could murder her,” suggested Badgelor, grinning.  “I mean, after we leave the dungeon, of course.”

“If you’d told me a month ago that I’d be contemplating heading into a very dangerous situation  with someone I don’t trust, I’d have called you a liar,” I sighed. 

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” said Shart.  “Isn’t that what you humans say?” 

“Maybe she’ll die in the dungeon!” exclaimed Badgelor.

“I’d just as soon hope no one dies down there,” I replied, shaking my head.  “We can always get rid of her later.”

“Ah, I get you,” replied Badgelor.  “Say no more,” he added, winking at me.

“Wait, don’t murder her,” I groaned.  “At least, not unless I tell you to.”

“You said too much,” chuckled Shart, taking in the notable gleam in the badger’s eye.  “She just annoys me, waving around her magical stick, like it's super impressive.  I’d like to show her what a real extradimensional space looks like.”

“I thought we already did?” I smirked. 

The conversation petered out, as I arrived at the dock for more practice.  Hansa was distracted with a system designed to allow water to flow into the drydock easily once the ship was finished.  Margwal was sitting and chatting with Splendid Gloria.

“Hello, Mayor,” Margwal greeted in her high, sing-song voice.  She was a natural soprano, and her vocal register was not something you’d normally hear from a person.  She was still wearing her preferred wide-brimmed hat, but, in the shade of the kitchen, she had it tilted back.  The chin strap was the only thing keeping it from falling off her head.

“Greetings, ladies,” I said, sitting down and looking at the drydock.  “Do you need Badgelor to dig anything?”

“No,” answered Margwal, which caused Badgelor to bolt toward the scraps behind the kitchen.  She watched him leave, smiling fondly.  Once he was fully engaged in guts, she turned to me and said, “He’s very good for the broad strokes of a project, but his digging isn’t so great for detailed work.  I have Hansa working on that with Glorious Robert right now.”

I hadn’t really interacted with Margwal very much.  She was the eldest of Sir Dalton’s daughters and the most mature, even more so than Ashe in my opinion.   I couldn’t see her falling head over heels in love with a Mercenary Captain, for example.  Margwal talked to Splendid Gloria like two women spoke together, rather than the more motherly attitude Splendid Gloria had with Hansa. 

Suddenly, there was a small explosion.  It sounded louder than a firecracker but smaller than a stick of dynamite.  Debris erupted out of the trench in a cloud, as everyone ducked their heads for cover.  I was half out of my seat when a smoking, soot-covered Glorious Robert stumbled out of the trench. 

“Are you alright?” I shouted, noting that his hit points were nearly, but not quite, full. 

Glorious Robert stood there for a moment before finally answering, “Trench is done.”  Then, he stumbled off.  Hansa bounced out of the trench and ran toward Margwal.  When she saw me, she changed course.  Rushing toward me, smoke streaming off her outfit, she grinned.  Bits of earth continued to rain down over the boardwalk.

“Look at this stuff,” groaned Splendid Gloria.

“Isn’t it neat?” asked Hansa.

“It certainly looks like your collection is complete,” answered Margwal patiently.

“This girl has everything,” grinned Hansa, surveying the destruction.  More men continued to stumble out of the blast zone.  They all sported varying combinations of stunned and confused expressions.  The explosion was apparently larger than anticipated. 

“That’s what happens when you have gadgets and gizmos aplenty,” nodded Margwal.

“Don’t forget my whozits and whatzits,” grinned Hansa.  She straightened out her hair and curtsied for me, causing more soot to fall off her dress.

“Glorious,” Splendid Gloria groaned.  “What did you do?”

“I used a thingamabob!” exclaimed Hansa. 

Surveying the destruction, I nodded appreciatively.  “I want twenty!”

“No big deal,” grinned Hansa.  “I’ll make more.”

She opened up her mouth to sing, but I interrupted her.

I want to find where the monsters are

I want to see

Want to see them s’ploding

Blowing to bits all their

Limbs and feet

Parts of them flipping away too far

Organs splattered on the ground dancin’

Spilling all of their guts

And bloody chunks of meat!

Oh, they won’t walk

They will just run

From explosions bright as the sun

Guts flying free

Wish I could see

Their parts in this world!

Both girls stared at me open-mouthed, while Splendid Gloria just nodded.  “Looks like you aren’t equally talented at everything.”

“You be quiet.  That was great,” I grumbled.  Shart laughed, and Badgelor tossed a hunk of fish at me that even he wouldn’t eat.  The little asshole lined up the shot perfectly.  If I dodged, it would hit Margwal.  That clearly wasn’t an option, so I allowed offal to splatter against my armor.  Then, the badger flipped me off and dove back into filth he knew I wouldn’t chase him through. 

Jerk.

Glorious Robert stomped over, having dunked his head in a bucket of water and gotten some of the soot off himself.  He hadn’t done a great job, and now his uniformly black skin was covered in streaks and stripes of black dusty goop. 

“Splendid Gloria, Margwal,” he said after a moment, glaring at us all.  Hansa had the good sense to look sheepish.  “Jim, it's practice time.”

“Oh no,” I thought as he stormed over to the training ground.  I turned to say something to Hansa but was stopped in my tracks when Glorious Robert barked, “Now!”

Chapter 11: Training Day

I stumbled backward, Glorious Robert’s last combo striking me solidly all three times.  The final strike was enough to send me tumbling onto my ass.  He promptly threw down his sword in disgust.

“Jim, what the hell is wrong with you?” he shouted.  “You are up to the Talented rank at Fancy Footwork, which is nothing short of amazing in the short period of time we’ve been training, but it doesn’t matter.”

“Why is that?” I groaned, getting back to my feet.

“That was a basic Journeyman sword combo!  You should have been able to easily avoid all of those strikes, but you moved too late in every case,” answered Glorious Robert.  He looked down in exasperation.  “I think I may have done you a disservice by teaching you Footwork, but I also don’t think your Dodge skill would have helped you there.”

Glorious Robert had been fully kicking my ass the entire training session.  On the upside, I was earning a ridiculous amount of Skill Points.  The problem seemed to be that my actual Fancy Footwork skill’s effectiveness had plateaued somewhere in the Journeyman rank.  The Mentor skill let Glorious Robert restrict his skill to a lower rank for training purposes.  I should have been able to dodge the Journeyman level attacks he was using fairly easily.  Instead, I was getting my clock cleaned. 

It wasn’t as pronounced as when I fought Dalton, but his two-handed sword was much slower than Glorious Robert’s one-handed weapons.  When Dalton needed speed, he tended to just use his fists, which moved quickly enough. 

“Maybe I’d do better if you tried at Expert rank,” I offered.

“You are soft if you think that’s going to go better for you,” answered Glorious Robert, holding his sword at the ready position again.  I assumed my own position and waited for that feeling that told me to begin the fight.  It was hard to describe, but I figured it had to be similar to the moment a gunfighter knew to draw.

Glorious Robert felt that moment first.  His sword flashed toward me.  I felt time start to slow. Before a prompt appeared, his sword slammed into my shoulder, followed by my temple.  The force was great enough to snap my head around entirely and send me spinning through the air.  I hit the ground hard, still unsure of exactly what had happened.

I was back on my feet before Glorious Robert had time to get his next speech about my inadequacies ready.  “It looks like this is going to be a rough time for ya,” he stated. 

Chapter 12: Jim’s ‘Problem’

It was a few hours before midnight when my companions and I stumbled back into the house.  I had learned that, after a point, even Iron Will had its limits.  I could still feel Glorious Robert’s constant strikes to my temple.  We had stopped after he decided that beating me out of my bad habit wasn’t going to work. 

“I just want to sleep,” I groaned, when Badgelor raced ahead of me and stood in front of my bedroom door.  There was a basket sitting next to the doorframe.    

“No, Badger’s Night is in a few days.  You haven’t made nearly enough toys,” growled the badger. 

“You have got to be kidding me,” I groaned.  “I’ll do it tomorrow morning.”

“You’ll do it now, or you will suffer the consequences,” growled Badgelor.  He hadn’t expanded into his War Form, so I was curious to see what he actually thought he was going to accomplish here.

“What are you going to do to me, you little, furry turd?” I asked, stamping my foot like a petulant child.

He lifted his leg, bringing the tiniest amount of secretions from his musk gland into the battle.

“Fine,” I reached down and grabbed the basket, before turning to go up the stairs.  “What is this?”

“It's mine, give it,” yelled Badgelor, grabbing one of the two jars of white cream from the basket.  I tried to grab it back, but he was already scurrying down the stairs.  I recognized those jars.  They contained Badgelor’s dipping sauce.  It was being delivered regularly and in great quantities. 

Glancing through the basket, I saw a note.  “Be strong, Mister Mayor, Jarra the Healer.”

That couldn’t be good.  Taking the remaining jar, I unscrewed the lid.  It smelled just as bad as it usually did, but I had the Alchemy skill.  Identifying salves was just one of its many uses.

●        Cream of Penile Restoration, this cream has been specifically formulated to cure any STD, defect, or other issues that a penis might have.  This salve is extra potent.  This salve is specifically for use by Jim, Mayor of Windfall.

Sir Dalton stepped out of the hallway and looked at me.  “Ah, excellent.  I told you I’d get you fixed right up.  I explained the situation of your tiny, defective tallywacker to Jarra the Healer and had her make you up a cure,” he said, slapping my back.  “Don’t worry, Jim, we’ll get your problem resolved.  I swear it on my honor as a Knight.”

“How long has this been going on?” I asked numbly.

“Since the battle at the castle.  I talked to Jarra the Healer right after.  We even got Fenris to check with Badgelor, to make sure the cream was working,” said Dalton.  “Badgelor said it really improved the firmness of the problem area. He hand delivers the jars back to me every morning. Honestly, it almost looks like you are licking the jars clean to get that product on your junk.   You were going through it so quickly that I doubled my order.  I may have to triple it soon.”

I was stunned into silence.

“Don’t worry,” said Sir Dalton, grabbing me by the shoulders, “We will get through this!  A man is no man at all, if his bait and tackle don’t work.  Even if we have to charge through all the trolls between here and Falcon Crest, we will do it. You got this, Jim.  I believe in you!”

My shoulders slumped.  I wasn’t going to be able to argue this, not with Badgelor returning the empties every day.  Defeated, I went up to my workshop.

By the time I’d finished enough toys to satisfy the little asshole for the night, it was after midnight.

Chapter 13: Mayoring Problems

“How does it keep smelling worse?” I groaned the next day, as Sir Dalton and I sat around the table eating breakfast.  Zorlando had left early in the morning for training.  He was trying to increase the rank in his Swords skill and was nearly on the cusp of it.  Plus, he tended to avoid the house when Ashe and Sir Dalton were both present.  He’d be back in time for lunch when Ashe was present and Dalton was out looking for the ne'er do well.  . 

Honestly, though, I thought the real reason Zorlando had abandoned breakfast was that Sir Dalton had requested, and also received, some of his favorite eggs from EstherSasha.  They smelled as strange as they looked.  Due to EstherSasha’s unique cooking flaw, all of her meals tasted different.  Even if she prepared the exact same meal from the exact same ingredients, there was no way in hell the meals would taste the same.  For someone like Sir Dalton, who ate an absurd amount of eggs daily, that gave him a unique set of flavors that he’d never run into before. 

“Are green eggs some sort of tradition?” I asked, poking at my plate. They didn’t have St. Patrick’s Day, but maybe Badger’s Day had a green tradition. 

“No, I have no idea why they are green,” answered Sir Dalton.  He loaded up his plate a second time and began devouring the food.  I had tried them, along with the green ham that came with them.  Both were inedible, even by the most loosest of standards. 

“Food coloring exists here?” I thought to Shart.

“Sure, although I’m pretty sure she didn’t use any,” mentally replied the demon. 

“You want some eggs?” I thought.

“First off, I don’t eat. You know this already, Dum Dum.  Second, if I were to try something, it's certainly not going to be food that even Badgelor won’t eat,” he replied.

“They taste like feet and consolidated sadness,” said the badger.  He’d sampled some of EstherSasha’s cooking before and knew to steer clear. 

“You eat rotting fish guts,” I replied.

“Not rotting fish feet,” he growled, shaking his head violently. 

I heard the melodic jingling of a bell.  Moments later, SueLeeta walked into the small dining room.  She nodded, placing several leaflets of paper in front of me.  “I brought you those reports you asked for.”

“Uh huh,” I replied, glancing at the papers.  I was pretty sure she had just grabbed them off Mar’s desk, which is where I would be depositing them as soon as I left here.  “Would you like some eggs?”

“Sorry, no, I already ate,” answered SueLeeta.  The smart woman had only made that mistake once.

“SueLeeta,” greeted Sir Dalton, standing and bowing his head toward her.  “I have been following your instructions, but, alas, I seem to be doing them wrong!”

“Whatever do you mean?” asked SueLeeta innocently, an expression of honest concern plastered onto her face.

“I have plied Jarra the Healer with gifts, like you suggested, but she did not seem to care for them,” answered Sir Dalton glumly.  “I got her some armor, a bow, and a finely crafted hatchet.  She didn’t seem to be at all interested in any of it.”

“That’s terrible!  I would have loved to receive those gifts.  We could have gone out hunting in the wilderness or sought out some monsters,” said SueLeeta.

“Yes, we could have,” nodded Sir Dalton, brushing past the notion.

“I think the only reasonable thing here is to keep trying,” said SueLeeta.  Sir Dalton took a seat and adopted his thinking expression.  It looked like he was constipated as he shoved more eggs into his mouth.

“Any luck with the oaf?” I asked.

“Nope, I’m still working on it, though,” answered SueLeeta.  Plan:  Clueless Warrior involved SueLeeta and OttoSherman wing manning Dalton while subtly showing him that SueLeeta was actually the girl of his dreams; his target, in this case Jarra, just wasn’t for him.  The plan would have worked on almost anyone, but Sir Dalton had a unique defense against it.

“I wasn’t aware you were helping us find the oaf who is dating my Ashe,” stated clueless Detective Dalton.

“Oh, yes, I’d be happy to help you find out who is dating Ashe,” said SueLeeta, looking over at me.  I shook my head and mouthed ‘Zorlando’.  Her eyes went wide for a moment, contemplating all the ways that would complicate everything.  “I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Many thanks.  Jim and Zorlando are also helping me.  I’m sure we’ll find him in no time,” smiled Sir Dalton.

SueLeeta bit her lip at this.  She was very much attracted to big dumb guys, and Sir Dalton was the biggest, dumbest guy I knew.  I blamed the Woodsman in her; she was far more interested in the behavior of simple-minded beasts than men. 

“Zorlando’s helping?” she asked after a moment.  “That seems particularly brave.”

“He is my close friend and wants the best for Ashe.  I’m sure his bravery will be sufficient,” stated Sir Dalton.

“They do seem to spend a lot of time together,” I said.

“Yes, Zorlando is clever.  Instead of sneaking around, like I do, he has gone right up to Ashe to ensure he knows where she is at all times,” stated Sir Dalton.  “Why, just yesterday I saw the two of them walking in the park.  Later, they spent the evening eating at a small restaurant off the main road.”

“I didn’t realize that was even open yet,” stated SueLeeta, looking at me.  New businesses opened all the time.  This one was called the Creekside tavern.  They had opened only in the last few days.  I hadn’t even managed to swing by for a visit yet. 

“They are, but worry not!  I snuck into the establishment and overheard my precious Ashe and Zorlando talking,” stated Sir Dalton.

“About what?” I dared to ask.

“Well, about the weather, of all things.  They were in the middle of a good, long discussion about the weather, when I finally managed to sneak close enough to overhear them,” smiled Sir Dalton.

“Were you wearing your armor at the time?” I ventured.

“I was outdoors!  Of course, you know I was,” stated Sir Dalton, his heavy chain shirt clanking loudly against itself.  I wondered how stealthy someone clanking around in that armor could possibly be. 

“Just making sure you were protected,” I said.

“Oh, good thoughts, Jim.  However, I do not expect to have to battle this oaf.  When I find him, I will simply introduce myself and put the fear of Dalton into his heart.  That will guarantee that he doesn’t hurt my Ashe,” stated Sir Dalton. 

“Well, I'm sure Zorlando will make sure her virtue is protected,” stated SueLeeta.

“He’s like her own personal virginity defense squad,” I said with a chuckle.  SueLeeta raised an eyebrow at me, so I continued, “She’s just as much a virgin today as she was when Zorlando began watching her.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” stated Sir Dalton consideringly.  “I might have to tell him to be less protective of her virtue.  After all, I only want to meet this stranger.  My daughter’s personal life is her own!”

“That’s very mature of you,” I said as SueLeeta looked down, biting her lower lip. Seriously, how much of a thing could she possibly have for big stupid guys? Then, the Knight took a bite of eggs.  SueLeeta watched from the side, catching the full display as his powerful shoulders and back worked to bring that spoon up to his perfect jaw.  She looked like the thirstiest sailor to ever make landfall. 

“Speaking of some quality alone time,” said SueLeeta, moving closer to Sir Dalton while giving me subtle shooing motions, “Do you have any time for me to help you work on your dating skills?”

“Ah, for when I start to court Jarra the Healer,” said Sir Dalton carefully.  “I have to be careful. My daughters are very concerned about my love life.”

“One practice date certainly isn’t going to hurt anything,” responded SueLeeta.  I got up to make myself scarce.  As I left the room, I heard her say, “We could go on a walk through the park and maybe try out a new restaurant.”

“Ah yes, that would be an excellent practice date,” replied Sir Dalton.  “I absolutely must tell you about what Fenris and I did on the training field yesterday.  I’m very interested in hearing about your latest hunting trip, too.  Did you find that boar you were tracking?”  SueLeeta winked at me as I passed. 

“That man can’t be that stupid,” stated Badgelor, as we left the house. 

“No man should be able to be that stupid,” replied Shart.  “Alas, they are humans.  What are you gonna do?”

Badgelor nodded sagely, and I just rolled my eyes and headed for the heart of the town.  The first thing on the agenda today was swinging by the office.  I needed to drop off the paper packet that SueLeeta had brought me. 

Mar and Blots both had desks in the back office of the Town Hall.  Technically, Blots had his own office.  However, despite the fact that both men seemed to actively dislike each other, Blots didn’t utilize his own space.  He always seemed to be sitting in the main area with Mar. 

I thumbed through the packet before dropping it onto Mar’s desk.  I was getting close to the Journeyman rank in Administration and every little bit helped.

“Morning Mar,” I said.  The clerk had been here for hours already, getting whatever done that needed to be done.  Given that I was standing directly in front of his desk, I figured he would notice me eventually.

“Good morning, Sir,” stated Blots, handing me a cup of WakeUpJuice.  The beverage was Ordinal’s equivalent of coffee.  The beverage was a lime green mixture of syrupy boldness that tasted like the inside of a mountain dew addict’s mouth.  Blots had taken to his job as the town’s Merchant with gusto.  He had already significantly improved the town's finances, even though he’d only been at the job for a few days.  Now that he was completely familiar with all the products Windfall was making, it was much easier for him to sell them to Narwal. 

“Morning Blots.  How’s Voan?” I asked, looking for any signs of bad health in my town merchant. 

“Quite good!  She’s adjusting to life in our new place,” answered Blots.  Their place was one of the townhouses next to mine.  It wasn’t quite as nice, but it was more than sufficient for a single father and his adopted daughter.  “We cleared out the old storefront, and I’ve turned it into a sitting room, like you suggested.”

“Well, that’s good to hear.  That big fireplace of yours gives the room a real cozy vibe,” I said, deciding I’d given Mar enough time to notice me.  I started toward the door.  When I got my hand on the knob, I turned back to the men.  Raising my voice, I said, “Yell if you need me for anything.”

Blots threw a small ball at Mar’s head.  He snatched it out of the air right before it impacted him. “I would appreciate it if you would stop. . .”

“Hi, Mar,” I greeted brightly.

“Mr. Mayor, I see you finally got here,” the clerk grumped.  “It’s about time,” he muttered under his breath. 

“Yup,” I replied, stepping back toward his desk.

“I have some buildings you need to approve,” Mar said.

“Your Administration skill is up to Initiate.  I thought you could handle those,” I said, bringing up the town menu.

“These aren’t simple houses.  The Militia has requested that you upgrade the barracks,” countered Mar.  Mar had significantly advanced his skills in his time as our clerk.  He was capable of building a large selection of structures on his own with a good degree of skill.  In the past, he had the ability to build some minor structures, but he tended to be less comfortable making those kinds of decisions.  Very recently, as he leveled up, Mar had become much more comfortable as a building approver.  My little annoying bookkeeper was turning into a big annoying bookkeeper.

“So, what are my choices?” I asked, looking through the options.  It was obvious that I didn’t need to ask him, but asking annoyed Mar.  In my book, that was enough of a reason to do it. 

Mar frowned, began to say something, and then thought better of it.  He scrunched up his forehead and cleared his throat.  “Well, Zorlando has requested two structures be built.  Fenris has requested another building in place of one of Zorlando’s suggestions.

At least there was one building that was agreed upon by both parties.  We only had enough War Points to add two useful buildings, though.  Additionally, we weren’t earning enough War Points to make another building feasible anytime soon.  I was pretty certain I would have to go to war at the Eastern Gate Fortress to earn enough points for more structures.

When I assigned our army to the Barracks, it had begun accumulating War Points.  Despite all the battles we had participated in, we had only earned a scant 67 War Points.  Now, I was seeing a flashing indicator on the town menu indicating that the Windfall Militia had leveled up. 

●        Dashing Dandies have earned War Points.  Would you like to increase the Dashing Dandies to a Tier 2 army? <Yes/No>

“Wait, the name of our army is the Dashing Dandies?” I asked, examining the unit name. 

“Of course!  That’s the name they fought under in their most significant battle,” replied Shart. 

“Can I change it?” I groaned.

“If you want to spend War Points,” answered Shart. 

I did not.  This was my fault.  I should have named the army myself.  Instead, I’d left the name as the default one, Windfall Militia.  Then, Dalton had outmaneuvered me by assigning his preferred name.   

“Dalton outsmarted you, Dum Dum,” grinned Shart.  “How’s that make ya feel?” 

Groaning again, I selected “Yes” on the prompt and watched as our militia soldiers base stats increased.  Training in the militia originally granted a base of 50 Hit Points.  Now, that base number increased to 100.  Reviewing the new numbers, I noticed that the Barracks was highlighted. 

Selecting it, I saw an upgrade option was available.  I obviously wanted that.  The upgrade was processed instantly, because our Barracks was already a Tier 4 structure. 

“That was anticlimactic,” I said.

“Were you expecting it to start glowing golden while kicking all the soldiers out or something?” asked Shart.

“Kind of,” I said.

“It must be so disappointing being you,” replied the demon. 

Next, I glanced through the build menu and whistled.  The last time I’d looked at the build menu for the Barracks, everything had been greyed out.  Now. there were a variety of choices.  I selected the Specialist Room, noticing that it required a good chunk of our 67 War Points.  

●        Specialists Room: This room expands training opportunities for your army, allowing special officers, like Combat Medics, to be trained.  30 Build Points, 30 War Points, 10 lumber, 5 cloth, 5 metal, 2 glass

Considering we only had one qualified healer in town, having a devoted Combat Medic would be super useful.  It would have probably kept some of our prior casualties alive.  I built the Specialist Room, spending the precious War Points like a wastrel. 

War Points were essentially Experience Points for an army.  However, they behaved a bit differently than normal Experience or Skill Points.  I brought up the menu and looked over the Dashing Dandies again.  In short, War Points were attached to the military unit in question, and they were separate from my War Leader skill.  It was roughly analogous to the skill of the general versus the skill of the troops. 

“It's because they are Professionals, not adventurers,” said Shart, using my preferred method of communication.  “They don’t earn ANY Experience Points, so the system has to track their slow, dim-witted progress some other way.”

To add a layer of complexity, instead of being able to directly apply those points to the unit, Ordinal had you apply the points to their base of operations.  In this case, that was our Barracks.  You could upgrade the Barracks, adding in new structures and features that would ultimately benefit the troops after they trained.  Without a base of operations, you couldn’t even form a proper army for them to gain any War Points.  This really meant that true armies were the stuff of towns.

Mercenary units, like Zorlando’s Golden Company, followed different rules.  I wasn’t training a mercenary company, so I wasn’t totally clear on what was involved.

The way armies were trained explained some of the gaps in my War Leader talent.  I could make the soldiers charge faster, for example, but I couldn’t really increase anyone’s Hit Points.  I also could not directly augment any of their other stats in a permanent context.  My Rally War Leader skill granted temporary Hit Points, for example, but nothing that was long-lasting.  That was because the War Leader talent dealt more with how the soldiers were used, rather than how they were trained.   

The Barracks was what Ordinal classified as a Compound.  Compounds  were several buildings put together for a common effect.  Most of the structures in town were simple, stand-alone buildings.  Only a few could even be built as Compounds.  According to Shart, when a Compound was first constructed, the builder had a few choices for which buildings to place where.  This would ultimately decide how the Compound functioned.  Our Barracks started off with a Long Hall, which was where the soldiers slept.  As it looked like a classic military barracks, that’s what I tended to call the entire Compound.  We also had several training yards, which improved the military's training quality.  The yards allowed for the training of a certain number of sergeants, too.  The last time I reviewed the build menu, there were multiple types of training fields that served a variety of roles.  However, for the moment, we were maxed out on the allowed number of yards we could have. 

That was for later pondering, though.  Now that the Dashing Dandies had increased to Tier 2, I had some new building options available.  When we’d begun repairing the Barracks, there had been a number of other structures in the Compound.  They had all been burnt down or destroyed.  I really had no idea how the Barracks was initially constructed, so that left me guessing as to what the optimum configuration was.  To put it another way, I was able to build it as I saw fit. 

Which meant that I was going to have to defer to either Zorlando or Fenris.

●        *Zorlando* Officer’s Mess: This room is a separate compartment for officers.  Hearty meals grant officers +20 Hit Points.  Upgrading this room further increases this bonus.

●        *Fenris* Map Room: This room enhances your War Room by tracking maps for old battles, allowing you to replay combats.  As the Map Room is upgraded, you can simulate tactics against your previous foes.  Grants a +25% bonus to War Leader experience. 

Zorlando’s room seemed to help him personally, while Fenris’ choice seemed to help everyone.  That was such a no-brainer that I actually thought about it for a moment.

“Shart, what qualifies as an officer?” I mentally asked

“Why are you bothering me with your droll nonsense?” retorted the demon.  “I was taking a nap.”

“You need to sleep?” I asked.  I had been operating on the assumption that sleeping was like eating for the demon.  I thought he didn’t require it. 

“No, Dum Dum, I don’t need to sleep.  I don’t need to do anything that you dullards do.  I enjoy resting.  It takes my mind off this horrible place,” Shart snidely explained. 

“You have been in a mood lately,” I said, still considering my room options.

“Well, that’s what happens when you get stuck with a dirty, shortsighted, nonsensical human for as long as I have been,” snapped the demon.  Sighing, he continued, “What was your question again?  Officers?  Anyone with the War Leader skill or a specialty role counts as an officer.”

“So, Zorlando is an officer?” I asked.

“Yes, and so are all your sergeants, along with anyone else that has a specialty role, like your scouts,” explained the demon.

“So, it sounds like you are saying we have quite a few officers,” I stated.

“Yes,” answered Shart.  “You meat bags require a lot of leadership to accomplish very little.”

“That means that an Officer’s Mess would benefit a great number of people.”

“Yes, Dum Dum,” he answered in a tone that could never be described as patient.  “As long as an Officer’s Mess exists, they will get the bonus it provides.”

“Wait, are you saying the officers don’t even have to eat there every day?,” I asked.

“Just while they train.  That allows them to keep the bonus as long as they are a member of the army,” replied Shart.  “Lots of training buildings are like that.  Why are you bothering me again?  Was there a particular reason, or are you just being lazy and stupid?”

I paused.  That meant Zorlando’s choice affected quite a few more people than just Zorlando.  There were around twenty other people in the Dashing Dandies that counted as officers.   If each of them got 20 Hit Points, that was a pretty decent bonus for the regular militia people.  The Map Room, on the other hand, was better for people who had the War Leader skill.  That was limited to pretty much just adventurers and Zorlando.  I dropped out of menu time.

“Why didn’t Fenris and Zorlando agree on an Officer’s Mess?” I asked Mar.  The man looked absolutely flummoxed at my question.  Badgelor snorted.

“Because, adventurer’s don’t see eye to eye with the common folk,” answered the badger.

“I thought we got along pretty well,” I said to Badgelor, considering my interactions with everyone.

“Oh, here it isn’t too bad, actually,” said the badger.  “When you leave Windfall and visit some of the other towns, you are going to find that adventurers are treated quite a bit better than your average person.”

I considered that for a  moment.  Since I’d founded Windfall, everyone had deferred to me.  I had believed that was because I was the mayor.  Now, I wondered if being an adventurer might have had a bit to do with how I was treated.  When I was in Narwal, I had gotten preferential treatment, despite the refugee crisis going on there.  Furthermore. I doubted Lord Dookie would have been as respectful to me if I’d been some regular mayor.  I must have been treated better because I was an adventurer.    . 

“That is because they are better people,” said Shart unapologetically.  “An adventurer is simply more valuable than even a skilled Professional.”

Professionals, or Professioned, were what people like Jarra the Healer were called.  They had practiced extensively and had developed a series of skills into something truly useful.  Also, a low-level Cleric walking through town could do Jarra’s job as an afterthought.

That was actually true with others, as well.  SueLeeta had been practicing her Healing skills and was nearly Jarra’s equal, despite spending almost no time on it.  The only reason Jarra was the definitive town Healer was because of her Alchemy skill.  It allowed her to brew large amounts of potions at a time.  SueLeeta claimed those were simply too time consuming to bother with.

Which was a lie.  I had been brewing up poisons in my workshop, and those were made just like potions.  Potions took only a few minutes to complete.  Heck, I’d distilled some of the leftover Demon Blood I’d gotten from Shart into something truly devastating.  I was now nearly a Journeyman in Alchemy myself, despite only a casual effort. 

The American in me recoiled hard at separating people into social classes like that, but it was true.  To put it in perspective, on Ordinal I learned skills at a truly awe-inspiring rate.  If I had this kind of progression on Earth, I could pick literally any profession and outstrip people with thousands of hours of training.  What it took them years to accomplish, I would do in a matter of weeks.  Assuming, of course, that I really went all in on it. 

Both Mar and Blots were looking at me, and I realized what they were wondering.  Was I going to help the adventurers or the regular folks? I didn’t have enough War Points to build a third room and make everyone happy.  For now, I was stuck with one or the other. 

We didn’t need the help.  They did.

I selected the Officer’s Mess.

●        Administration has increased to Journeyman.  Remote Administration is now possible.

You can now fully administer your town from any safe location. 

Blots actually rolled his eyes.  Mar looked happy as he began allocating resources. 

“What’s your problem?” I quietly asked Blots.

“Just figured you’d go for the Map Room,” answered Blots.  “It's better for adventurers.  That’s a lot more important than any bonuses the rest of us get.”

“Maybe I think the rest of you are valuable,” I grumbled.

“Then make yourself stronger and protect us,” Blots shot back. 

I didn’t have an answer for that.

Chapter 14: Zentarim Academy

I started heading south to meet up with Bashara, who was busy demolishing more ruins.  With the castle project in full swing, the town was actually kind of quiet, outside of the central parts of the districts.  All the industry tended to be concentrated in those areas, making it a hotbed of activity during the working day.  As I continued to cut south through Windfall, I was finding that more and more homes in the periphery of the magical district were starting to be repaired. 

“Will wonders never cease?” I said, motioning to the newly renovated homes.

“Yes, people crawled out of their crappy caves to live in houses,” Shart nodded.  “Amazing.”

“A nice cool cave sounds sublime,” commented Badgelor. 

I was about to speak to Shart again, but, as we passed the corner, a loud boom sounded.  I turned to examine Bashara’s work.  By the time I looked back to Shart, he was gone. 

“He’s not a big fan of the magical sort,” my badger mentioned.

“I just wonder where he goes,” I replied.

There was an absolute range limit between Shart and myself.  It was longer, since I’d found my Ring of Mental Bonds.  However, it still wasn’t all that long of a range.  I’d tried to find the demon, but, wherever I looked, magically or otherwise, I’d never been able to find him.  He always seemed to be nearby but never in a direction I could isolate.  He had to be going to his mystical palace of blackjack and hookers, wherever that happened to be.

Bashara nodded as I approached.  She was covered in a fine layer of soot from something she had done.  For a moment, a very brief moment, she almost looked content.  Then, she scrutinized me, and her more serious expression kicked back on.  I was still unused to seeing her scar every time I looked at her.  She had decided that there was no point in hiding it with magic anymore but I had caught her tracing her finger down the scar unconsciously more than once. 

She looked at me through her long eyelashes; she knew what I was here for.  She waited until I walked over to the training area.  Suddenly, with no preamble, her hands began weaving through the air.  A moment later, she had a Fire Bolt cast and was flinging it at me.  Time had slowed, so I brought up my fire barrier.  Her spell was deflected without comment.

I walked further into the area we used for battles.  “You know, if this training area wasn’t here, the town barrier would have melted you when we tried this yesterday,” I said.  She rolled her eyes. 

“You agreed to train with me.  That alone should be enough for the town barrier to recognize that all we are doing is just practicing,” she commented.  “Any thoughts on what I discussed with you yesterday?”

“Good morning, Bashara,” I said, going over to her.   

“Good morning, Jim,” stated Bashara, realizing that the topic had been changed.  She paused for a moment, as all of the dust on her body suddenly flew away.  The particles seriously just left her body. Like they had someplace else to be. She was still sweaty, but now it was almost a clean sweat.  As I watched, she began generating a weak spell that caused her hands to glow blue.  The air around us grew chilly, sending goosebumps across my exposed flesh.

“How did you do that?” I asked.

“What?  This?” she replied, holding up her hand.  “It's just basic Watermancy.  You’d be able to do it yourself, but your Water core is too underdeveloped.  You could make an area brighter or warmer with your Flameology skill, though.”

I actually knew that.  I’d figured out that I could generate light by cycling Mana through my Fire core and releasing it from my hand.  That brought up a question though.  “Does Biological Aeromancy have an effect like that?”

She opened her mouth to reply but then paused, frowning slightly.  Her eyebrows drew together as she thought.  “Probably?  I know that Aeromancy can be used to generate a breeze or a slight shock, but I’m not really sure what Biological Aeromancy does.  It's not well-practiced.”

I’m probably not going to like the result.  I held up my hand and began cycling Mana through my Biological Aeromancy core.  My hand turned bright, smokey green.

“That’s new,” said Bashara, looking at the swirls in my hand.  “Well, try it.  Point it at something.”

I did, trying to Will a breeze or something out of my hand.  Nothing happened.  I flipped to my skills.

●        Biological Aeromancy, You are an Initiate.  (937/1000 SP)

“I’m only at Initiate rank,” I said.

“How?  The only spell I’ve seen you use that for is making people. . .” she coughed.  She had been defeated by my all-powerful magic before.

“I use it for barriers all the time,” I countered.  Biological Aeromancy was considered a higher tier magic.  Thus, it was more effective at countering lower tier magic.  The smokey green barrier was my default, because, when I used the Hardened Barrier perk to Block, it granted Skill Points to Block, Barrier, and Biological Aeromancy. 

“Oh, well that makes more sense,” Bashara said after a moment.  She eyed my glowing hand a moment before shrugging.  “Can’t be helped, then.”  The Wizard reached out and grabbed my hand, scrunching her eyes shut. 

“What are you doing?” I asked, as her surprisingly strong hand squeezed down on mine. 

“I’m trying to trigger the effects of your skill,” she answered.  “Whatever it is, the effect is not super obvious. . .”

I was watching her carefully.  Since she’d grabbed me, her skin had become more vibrant looking.  Her hair was bright and glossy in the light of the sun.  Those effects were nice, but I expected they would end quickly when she released my hand.  Since her eyes were closed, I used Lore.

●        Bashara: Wizard Level 19

●        HP: 325/310

●        Stamina: 50/50

●        Mana: 183/420

●        Skill: Illusions Expert

●        Skill: Mental Manipulation Expert

●        Skill: Waterology Talented

She had managed to advance many levels since the last time I looked at her with Lore.  On someone else, I’d have been impressed.  However, this was Bashara.  I suspected that she had some trick that was showing a false read on her Lore screen, especially considering her Hit Points.  I was doing the same thing, so complaining about it would have been pretty hypocritical.  I was fully capable of being a hypocrite, if the situation called for it, though. 

“So thirsty,” she mumbled, watching me for a moment before releasing my hand.  “Wait, you used Lore on me?  Without my permission?”

“I just wanted to see the spell's effects,” I stammered at her innate hostility.  Doing a full Lore scan on someone was more than a bit impolite. 

Bashara visibly collected herself.  “Like what you saw?” she asked, a vague smirk replacing the anger on her face.  As I looked at her and my eyes lingered on her scar she frowned and turned away. 

“Yes,” I stated, happy to move on with the topic at hand.  “I noticed you had more Hit Points than your maximum?”

She paused, examining her own sheet for a moment, “Yes, but they are going down.”  She grabbed my hand again and watched.  “Neat, your Biological Aeromancy grants temporary hit points.  I wonder if it grants real hit points, too.”

“Well, we’d have to -” I began, but Bashara had already gotten out her dagger and started working on her palm.  It took her a moment to get through the temporary hit points, which manifested as almost instant healing in this case.  Soon enough, her left hand was a bloody mess.

Grabbing my glowing hand with her right, she began examining her left.  Bashara flexed her fingers into various casting signs.  “Nope, just generates temporary hit points.”

I would have asked, like a chump, how she could tell, but the big, oozing wounds were a pretty good indicator that I wasn’t healing anything.  It did look like my effect restored some of her Stamina, though.

“What’s your Mana look like?” she asked, so I flipped over to my own sheet.

●        Jim: Level 3 Sorcerer

●        HP: 700/700

●        Stamina: 478/530

●        Mana: 201/250

“It's eating a big chunk of it, and my Stamina is down,” I said, focusing on the effect.  Generating light with Flameology required so little Mana that I didn’t even think about it, but Biological Aeromancy was actually draining.  I couldn’t keep it up forever. 

“Ha,” I heard a voice in the back of my mind.  It could only have been Shart. 

“It's using your Stamina,” said Bashara as she thought.  “That’s. . . different.  I really need to take you to a magical college somewhere and let them dissect you.”

“I think I’m going to pass on that very tempting offer,” I said.  She grinned at me.  Then, she shook her head and stepped back, apparently content regarding the passive powers of my Biological Aeromancy skill. 

“Alright, enough messing around.  It's time to show you how real Wizards fight,” she said. Grabbing her staff, she strolled over to her mark in our makeshift arena.  The actual arena was circular using the long line we had built as a center line. 

“I thought we were already doing that,” I said, bringing up a barrier and then deactivating it. 

“Badger’s balls, no,” chuckled Bashara.  “Well, I mean, I guess we were doing what low-level practitioners would call a magical duel.  Now, however, I am going to show you how we do it on Dragon Mountain!”

“Where is Dragon Mountain?” I asked, as she began warming up.  Small jets of flame were shooting from the tip of her staff.

“Out East?  The Zentarim Academy?  You certainly have heard of it,” she said flatly.  She narrowed her eyebrows at me, groaning.  “You know, the one located on the pelvis of the  Dragon?”

“The Dragon Mountain has a pelvis?” I asked, like a total idiot would.

“Boy, Shart is gonna be sorry he missed this,” my oh-so-faithful animal companion muttered sleepily.  Badgelor had been curled under some fallen debris but was rousing himself for the very moronic spectacle he was surely about to witness.

Bashara’s face tightened.  “Yes, because the mountain is an immense fossilized dragon.  The Zentarim Academy is located between the dragon’s legs.”

“I don’t think I know where that is,” I said.

“You’re fucking with me.  Everyone knows about the Zentarim Academy at the Dragon’s Balls,” Bashara ground out. 

“That’s a long way to go for a DBZ joke,'' I shrugged.  Bashara facepalmed.

“I assure you that the Zentarim Academy is no joke,” she said haughtily. 

“It's no school of witchcraft and wizardry, though” I ventured.  Bashara became irate. Insulting someone’s college was universally offensive.  Good to know. 

“I swear to the gods, you do “ignorant buffoon” better than anyone else I’ve ever met and I’m close friends with Sir Dalton,” she shouted, before regaining control of herself.  “Just cast a streaming spell at me.”

Summoning up the Mana, I worked it into magic and proclaimed, “Lame thro!”  Instantly, a jet of fire erupted from my palm and went streaming toward Bashara.  Normally, she would generate a barrier to block the spell, but not this time.

“Tra’Cutioner!,” she yelled.  A blast of bright blue lightning shot straight into my stream of fire.  Both spells met in the middle.  They caused quite a bright, flashy shower of power.  Magical fire and magical lightning did not behave at all like their mundane counterparts.  Whereas a welding torch and an arc welder would have gone right through each other, our magical streams instead met in the middle and formed a vortex of power. 

The sensation was unusual, to say the least.  It felt like I was pushing against Bashara’s spell, which I supposed I was.  I focused my Will and pressed on the spell, forcing more Mana into it.  The vortex in the middle began to shift toward her. 

Bashara, never one to be outdone, smirked.  She focused her own Will against my spell, causing the lightning to bore into it.  The vortex began to press toward me and, despite my best efforts, pushed well past the halfway mark.  It was headed inexorably for me. 

Too much magic.  Can’t push anything more through my hand.

“Don’t worry about it!  Everyone has performance issues their first time,” yelled Bashara comfortingly, cupping her hands over her mouth. 

“How the hell are you doing that?” I yelled back.

“After the spell is activated, you don’t really need to hold your hands there.  It's a bad habit,” Bashara called back, laughing. 

Hands.

I had the Twin Casting perk, which allowed me to cast spells with both hands.  I had enough Mana to defeat Bashara.  I just didn’t have enough pipe to get it there.  Focusing the runes into my other hand, I cast Flame Stream again.  Both my jets of flame hit her single bolt of electricity.

If there hadn’t been three streams of power exploding into each other, we would have looked ridiculous.  I was standing there, my hands touching each other at the base of the palms, while all ten of my fingers were tuliped out.  Meanwhile, Bashara was leaning toward me, her hands at her sides, looking for all the world like a petulant child who didn’t get her way. 

In the time-delayed arena of a magical duel, our battle stretched onward, with Bashara using her superior skill to offset my Improved Flameology.  She would bob, weave, and feint her magical stream.  I just kept plowing forward.  Her tactics were foreplay for the big event, and I was just trying to crash land a rocket ship. 

Unfortunately for her, simplicity has a power all its own, and we weren’t using advanced magic.  My streams of power were ever so slightly stronger than hers.  Eventually, I pushed her spell all the way back, until the magical vortex was erupting right in front of her face.  It was as far as I could go; the arena’s design placed her out of my Flame Stream’s range.

She looked pissed, until I screamed, “That was awesome!  We have to try that again!”

Then she looked. . .malevolent. 

We had a total of thirteen contests that day.  I won one. 

Chapter 15: Calm Before the Storm

“Well, that was a good day of training,” I said.  Glorious Robert, Splendid Gloria, and two of Sir  Dalton’s daughters were following me back into town.  I’d finally picked up Journeyman Sprinting as I fled from Bashara’s last ‘training’ exercise.  She was right, the town’s barrier had decided we were training. 

“I guess you could say that,” grumbled Glorious Robert.  He was still upset that he hadn’t been able to break my dodging block, despite his comprehensive and exhaustive efforts.  “Seems to me that you are as ready for the dungeon as you are going to get.”

That was not a reassuring response.  Glorious Robert had spent the last several hours demonstrating conclusively that he could pound me into the floor at his leisure.  All he had to do was actually swing at me, and he could make contact nine out of ten times.  He’d actually tried that for a while, figuring that actually beating the crap out of me might work.  It hadn’t. 

I nodded, letting that pass.  Holding up the thingamabob that Hansa had prepared for me, I examined it.  It was a prototype, one of five I’d started with.  With a simple toss, I could strike a target and cause the small explosive device to detonate.  Unlike my Fire Stones, this thing was impressive.

●        Thingamabob: Inventor’s Gadget, Explosive.  6-36 points of Fire Damage, 10 foot radius.

That was a nice attack, but I could lob several of them at once to compound the damage.  Each additional device did less damage than the last, but even up to five of the devices would still provide a benefit. 

Splendid Gloria bumped into her husband, causing him to step toward me.  I turned around, catching just the edge of a serious look on her face, before she turned to talk to Margwal for a moment.  Glorious Robert seemed to be steeling himself for something.

“So, Mister Mayor,” he said hesitantly in his Basstown accent as we walked.  Glorious Robert looked back at his wife before continuing, “Have you considered who is going to go down into the dungeon with you?  Assuming, of course, that you are going to go down into the dungeon?”

“I’m going,” I said, turning back to face Glorious Robert.

“Well, you are going to need a strong team then.  Have you made any choices?” he asked. 

“I have some ideas,” I said after a moment.  “Did you want to come?”

He growled, and Shart chuckled.

“Everyone wants to come, you nimrod,” stated Shart, rolling his eyes.  He had been gone all day, only reappearing now to mock me.  He has to have some skill that alerts him to statements of stupidity.  “Dungeon running is one of the best ways to power yourself up.  There are tons of experience points to be earned down there, as well as great treasure.

Duh, I thought, watching Glorious Robert’s expression.  It was dramatically flipping between angry and calm, as he attempted to collect himself.  Shart didn’t get the art of negotiation at all. 

“Yes, I’d like to come,” stated Glorious Robert, trying to keep the edge out of his voice.  “However, I wondered how many party slots you had.”

In a dungeon, you entered as a party, led by the person with the best Party Leader talent.  I had that talent, of course.  I had quickly checked and verified that I had four slots to add in other people, or, in one specific case, a Warg. 

“I’m not stopping anyone from going to the dungeon by themselves,” I said after a moment.  “You could always go there on your own.”

“I could,” he replied, as if considering the problem.  I knew him too well, though.  He’d already gone through this with Splendid Gloria.  “The problem is that there are six adventurers in town, and only one of you.”

“Maybe I’ll just go in by myself,” I joked. 

“”Yeah, maybe,” replied Glorious Robert.  “Maybe I wouldn’t mind running for mayor, after we scrape up and bury what’s left of you.  We certainly know you aren’t going to be dodging any of the attacks.”

I sighed.  Actually going by myself would have been impossible.  While we’d been talking about my problematic Footwork skill, I had the same issue with Block and Parry.  Attacks made with fast weapons above the Journeyman level were too quick for my skills to engage.  The last time I fought a sub-boss, I had been readily beating that troll.  Then, it managed to grab me by the head and repeatedly smash my face into the ground.  I didn’t know if that was luck or if the troll had just realized my weakness. 

“Look, you’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you? “ sighed Glorious Robert.  “You are decent at a whole bunch of things, but you aren’t really good at any of them.  You go into this dungeon without a strong team, and you’re going to get pounded flat.”

“Fine, I’ll think about it,” I responded. 

“Well, if you don’t want me to go, you could always pay me fo-” started Glorious Robert, before Splendid Gloria kicked him.

“The training is a gift,” she smiled, before whispering to her husband, “If you give him a value for the training, he’s just going to pay you off.  You need to get inside that dungeon.”

Having a high Perception skill was annoying at times. 

“We can’t go until the Phoenix Moon, remember.  We have plenty of time to decide,” I said, thinking.  “Tomorrow we have the parade and Badger’s Night.  I‘ll call a meeting before the post parade party to discuss it.”

I sent out a timed quest invite to all the adventurers in town for a meeting at my house the next day.  At the gate, our group dispersed.  I headed toward the inn to get some supper. 

“I’m starving,” growled Badgelor.

“We are going to eat as soon as we get to the inn,” I replied.

“Walk faster,” urged the badger.

Before I’d made it fifteen feet, I heard a familiar voice. 

“Mr. Mayor, it is good to see you,” proclaimed Zorlando as he led a half-dozen people in a squad behind him.  They were jogging, which seemed to be his preferred method of basic training for the Dashing Dandies.

From what I could see with my own two eyes, the new squad appeared to be shaping up nicely.  As they were in formation, individual name tags were out.  All I could see was the squad title.   “Specialist Corp” floated over the entire group. 

I hadn’t realized the new buildings would have been completed so quickly.  Either structure was a half day's work for any of our construction teams, and I knew several members of those teams were part of the army.  I supposed that was incentive enough for quick building expansion and new army divisions. 

“Didn’t waste any time,” I said, nodding at the new squad.  They continued to jog in place, once Zorlando had halted his progress.

“They were very eager to get started training under the great Zorlando,” replied the great Zorlando.

“Well, don’t let me stop you,” I said, turning back toward my destination.

“If you do not mind, I have a question,” said Zorlando, as he stepped closer to me.  His idea of quietly talking was best described as a stage whisper.   “Fenris was training with us a few moments ago.  Then, he said he needed to get something and vanished.  Do you have any idea why?”

“I sent him a quest invite for a meeting at the house tomorrow, after the parade,” I answered.

“Will it be something you need my assistance with?” asked Zorlando.

“We’ll be talking about the dungeon,” I said tactfully. 

“Say no more,” replied Zorlando, signaling his unit to keep jogging.  As the last of the squad ran past, I momentarily examined the backside of one of the female recruits.  It looked familiar, despite her wearing nearly the full suit of combat armor.  Next to her,  I spotted a blond ponytail and realized that Ashe was a member of the Specialists Corp. 

“Dalton is going to kill him,” muttered Badgelor.

“Yes, he is,” I replied.

“So, they are bumping uglies,” stated Shart gruffly.  “Why does it matter?”

“That’s the sad thing,” I replied.  “I think if Zorlando had been up front about it, he might have been okay.”

“I don’t know,” replied Shart.  “Sir Dalton was pretty detailed with his requirements.  I don’t think Zorlando measures up.”

“All fathers say that about their daughters’ boyfriends,” I replied.  “I certainly had some high ideals about my daughter’s boyfriends.  In the end, you just want them to be happy.”

“Did your father-in-law find you worthy of his daughter?” Badgelor asked.

“Look at him and answer your own dumb question,” Shart responded.

I glared at the demon before answering.  “No, not at first.  It took a year or five.”  It was an honest response.  That’s what happens when you bat way out of your league.  “He came around once I firmly established myself as the man to love and support his daughter and the family I created with her.”

“Well, knocking boots always cheered me up,” grinned Badgelor.

“Granted, but Zorlando’s case is different.  He’s let it go on for so long, Sir Dalton is likely to take it as a form of betrayal,” I replied. 

“I think that it's good that Zorlando is doing this behind Dalton’s back,” replied Shart.  “Besides, it's Dalton’s fault for not seeing it coming.”

“How devilish of you,” I replied.  Shart was a case study in might makes right, Chaotic Evil behavior right out of a classic tabletop RPG.  I don’t think Ordinal had a separate category for devils and demons, but Shart had very little order in his chaotic soul.

As I attempted to continue on my journey, Badgelor smacked himself in the forehead and groaned, “No, not that fool.” 

Looking down the road, I saw Fenris jogging.  He had a large package swung over his shoulder and seemed to be searching for something.

Badgelor had grown more and more annoyed with the Warden’s constant conversational efforts.  The fact that Fenris didn’t understand what Badgelor was saying had begun weighing more heavily on the badger.  It appeared that something had finally broken, draining the furry badger’s limited patience away. 

It rapidly became apparent what, or rather who, Fenris was seeking.  He was headed straight toward me. 

“Mayor Jim,” stated the Warden and Commander of the Dashing Dandies.  “Evening, Badgelor!  Shouldn’t you be getting ready for tomorrow?”

“I will feast on your entrails,” replied the badger.

“Yes, the feasts will be lovely,” agreed Fenris. 

“Evening, Fenris, or near enough,” I replied, looking at him carefully.  There was a trace of eagerness in his eyes that I wasn’t used to seeing.  “How can I help you?”

“Well, I received your quest,” replied Fenris, “About the dungeon.  Then, I remembered that I bought you a gift when I was last in Narwal.”

“Really?  You didn’t need to-” I began, but he thrust the package into my hands before I had a chance to say anything further.  From the way it was roughly shoved into my arms, I could tell instantly that it was a weapon.  I pulled open the wrapping.  It was another longsword, my favored blade.  This one looked far more ornate than any I possessed.  The blade was of a higher quality steel and had fine etching that spoke of power. 

●        Soldier’s Longsword Mark 2, 3-10 base damage, 240/240 durability, enchantment bonus Piercing damage +1-6 points.

“This is very impressive.  Thank you,” I said.  The weapon was a clear upgrade from my current sword.  It was a thoughtful gift from one man to another, out of the blue and for no reason whatsoever. 

“I didn’t get you anything,” I began, but Fenris waved it off.

“No worries!  I’m sure something will come to you,” he said, before looking around uncomfortably.  Spotting the tracks of the jogging militia, he coughed.  “Well, better get back to training!”

“Think he actually saw those tracks?” asked Shart.

“Not a chance,” replied Badgelor.

After Fenris ran off into the distance, I had to laugh.  I hadn’t ever considered not including him in the dungeon party. However, the thought that people I respected would resort to bribery to get me to bring them along was something entirely foreign to me.

“He probably spent the money you gave him on it,” stated Shart.  I had given Fenris some gold to better equip SueLeeta and himself.  Glancing at his armor and weapon, he’d at least done that first. 

“You are no fun,” I replied.  This was like my wife buying me presents all over again.  That brought up a pang, but it was a smaller pang than it used to be.  I shook it off and continued toward the inn. 

I nearly lost my balance when Badgelor launched himself off my shoulder and ran to his throne.  No matter what he said, I was still positive it was a highchair.  I plopped down at the mayor’s table, causing OttoSherman and SueLeeta to nod at me.

“So, what are you going to bribe me with?” I asked SueLeeta. 

“For a dungeon run?” she chuckled.  “You need me, so nothing.  If I were you, I wouldn’t expect anything from Bashara, either.”

“So, you have three men chasing after you,” murmured OttoSherman wistfully. 

“I do not.  I just have three powerfully built men giving me gifts and complimenting me.  They just want confirmation that I’ll go somewhere on a specific date and time with them. . .” I began. “Oh, God, I’m dating three men at once.”

“Join the club,” smiled OttoSherman.  SueLeeta chuckled. 

“Only three?” she retorted.  OttoSherman looked affronted, then held up his hand to indicate that, perhaps, it was a few more. 

MaGetty had already dropped a plate of food in front of me, which didn’t compare to the feast she had laid out before Badgelor.  He was devouring it with a gusto typically reserved for those who hadn’t seen food in a week.

“Wait, why are they feeding him so much?” I asked.  Normally, Badgelor was well-fed in this establishment, free of charge.  Today, however, they were really piling it on.

“The parade is tomorrow,” stated OttoSherman, leaving out the ‘duh, dumbass.’  “Then, there is Badger’s Night!”

“Do you have all your gifts ready?” SueLeeta called out to Badgelor.  He nodded back at her while shoving an entire game hen into his maw.

OttoSherman chuckled.  “He’s so cute.  You’d think he’s the actual Badgelor.”

I shook my head fondly.  “Back to my love life.  Dalton hasn’t gotten me anything.”

“Oh, it's just Dalton to you.  It's Sir Dalton to me,” stated OttoSherman.  That formality came about after that time OttoSherman got a bit too familiar with the huge, incredibly handsome, powerfully built Knight.

“Only his close friends get to call him Dalton,” said SueLeeta, flashing me a cat-like smile.

“Has he given you any gifts?” OttoSherman asked SueLeeta.

“Dalton is an uncouth dolt.  Of course not,” she replied.  “I don’t expect to get any gifts from him until we get serious.”

Just then the door opened and a looming figure strolled in like he owned the place.  Sir Dalton, the massive pile of muscle that he was, walked over to my table.  Bowing deeply, he unceremoniously dropped a large box onto the table.

“Jim,” he greeted, “Little friend, I was talking to Jarra the Healer about your condition, in great detail, when the subject of your armor came up.  I know how poor you are, and I was concerned about you going into the dungeon without the best possible protection.  I talked to HankAlvin and had a proper suit of armor made for you from one of the blueprints I had.”

“Dalton, you shouldn’t have,” I began, trying to work up some kind of anger regarding the ‘condition’ discussion.  However, Dalton was just so oblivious that it didn’t matter.  Instead, I went about  opening the package.  As I tore the wrappings away, I caught sight of my first actual suit of heavy armor.  The half-plate looked quite similar to the sturdy, well-made armor that Dalton favored.  “This must have cost a fortune.”

“Well, only the best for my special friend,” said Sir Dalton with a nod of his head.  He was looking at me, so he couldn’t see the abject murder in SueLeeta’s eyes.  That was probably for the best.  Dalton continued, mostly under his breath, “From our last sparring match and what I hear from Glorious Robert, you need the best possible protection you can muster.”

That would have caused some serious burn damage.

“So, are you going to be at the meeting tomorrow?” I asked nonchalantly.

“Of course,” growled SueLeeta.

“Why, certainly!  I want to hear how we will tackle the dungeon,” answered Sir Dalton.  “Oh, SueLeeta, I didn’t see you there.”

“Twisting the knife,” chuckled OttoSherman.

“Hello, Sir Dalton.  Did you have any luck finding your culprit?” asked the Hunter, a hidden edge to her voice.

“No, but I shall keep looking.  Your idea earlier today for us to walk in the park and then sit quietly by the creek and look at clouds was a good one.  If Ashe is dating someone, she certainly would have tried to do that.  Plus, it is good practice for wooing Jarra, making your plan doubly effective,” stated Sir Dalton.  A serving girl walked past, causing him to follow her toward the beer.

I was going to say something, but SueLeeta was too busy admiring Dalton’s hindquarters to notice me right away.  “I just can’t stay mad at that,” she said. 

“Seriously, and they say I have a thirsty look,” I said, taking a long swig of my own ale. SueLeeta wrinkled her nose at me and ate a spoonful of stew. 

“He’s so dumb,” she smiled. “I have him convinced that if we do date-like activities, then we will run into Ashe’s secret boyfriend.  I make sure to mention it in front of Zorlando, so he can help.”

“Ouch,” said OttoSherman, examining one of the ladies that walked by. . .and her boyfriend.  Both winked at him when they thought the other couldn’t see. 

I began eating my own bowl of stew that had magically appeared before me.  Badgelor continued shoving the contents of an entire pantry into his gullet.  Every so often, a child would run over to him and drop some portion of their dessert in front of the badger.  Badgelor would nod approvingly before devouring it.  The dessert, not the child. 

“So, are we ready for the parade?” I asked.

“Yes,” grinned SueLeeta.  “I assume you’ve gotten your house ready?”

“Well, I put up a tree,” I mentioned.

She frowned.  “How do you expect a tree. . .?”

“Badgelor isn’t going to break into Jim’s house,” said OttoSherman knowingly. 

“Oh, yeah, you have that little door,” said SueLeeta. 

“Yeah,” I said, “I don’t see what the problem is.”

Chapter 16: The Parade

“What is your problem?” I groaned, checking the window for the time.  Seeing the position of the sun, I realized that Mar had woken me up at the proverbial asscrack of dawn.  “And how did you get in here?”

It had been a fun evening.  After the inn, I had gone back and polished off a few more toys, along with finishing some more eccentric projects.  I even made a magical Ring of Vitality as well as a Dagger of Sparking, for some of Badgelor’s special requests.  We had a huge pile of toys and everything was going great.  I had worked super late into the night, but that was to be expected during this magical season.

“Ashe let me in,” Mar said, practically bouncing up and down as he did so.  “We have the stand all ready, and the parade is in just a few hours.”

“Do you need me or Badgelor?” I groaned.

“Well, just Badgelor actually,” replied Mar after considering for a moment.

“Go then, you little furball.  Don’t embarrass me,” I said toward the badger’s bed.  Turning over, I went back to sleep.

Moments later, well, maybe a few hours later, I was greeted by an angry SueLeeta.  “Get your ass up!  The parade is about to start!”

“How did you get in here?” I groaned, sitting up.

“You left your window open.”

“My room is on the second floor, you cat burglar,” I groaned again, rubbing my face.

“You asked for it,” she muttered.  I heard the twang of an arrow. 

●        You have suffered Knockback from a Power Shot.  This trick shot causes no damage but will knock you back 3 logs (8 logs base - 5 logs Mitigate ). 

I had gone flying out of bed and into the corner of my room.  In a testament to the room’s oversized nature, I still managed to land on the floor and not bounce into a wall or something.  I slept naked, and my blankets remained firmly attached to the bed.  I had never been less grateful for Ashe’s high Maid skill. 

Standing up, I began to yell indignantly.  Before I could get truly worked up, my clothes flopped against my body and landed in a pool at my feet. 

“Get dressed,” stated OttoSherman, coming to stand in the doorframe of my room.  He adopted a relaxed stance, continuing to munch on a muffin he had found.

“How did you get in here?” I asked, exasperated.

“Ashe let me in,” he replied between bites. 

I closed my eyes and counted to ten.  The day was off to a rough start.  Opening my eyes, I quickly put on what passed for my dress pants and shirt.  By the time I was clothed, OttoSherman had finished his muffin.  SueLeeta was sitting on the windowsill, waiting. 

“OttoSherman, you can find the door, right?” I asked with icy politeness.  The Lumberjack nodded.  I looked over at SueLeeta and narrowed my eyes.  She adopted a mischievous expression and slipped out of view. 

●        Jump Skill: Normal Jump distance 3 Logs (base) + 3 Logs (Ranks in Jump skill), total 6 Logs.  

I exploded out the window, just as SueLeeta leapt backward.  She grabbed onto an exposed eave on the roof and flipped up and out of sight.  Cursing, I reached out to grab at anything as I flew toward the street below.  Fortunately, I managed to get a hold of the side of the window frame, shoving myself onto the roof.

There was far too much forward momentum to stop, so I instead committed and jumped.  Flying across the street, I landed on the opposite roof.  I quickly spotted Voan, sitting on her balcony with Blots.

“Hello, Mister Mayor,” stated Voan.  I half-wondered why she hadn’t gone to see the parade.  Then, my brain caught up with me.  The parade route ran down this street, going right by my house.  I, too, had a balcony that would serve as a perfect place to view the festivities.  Looking over at my house, I noticed Ashe, Dalton, and Zorlando all sitting on my balcony.  The balcony door opened, and OttoSherman walked out.  He was holding a tray of muffins, from which Dalton and Zorlando each grabbed one.

Zorlando broke his muffin in two and gave half to Ashe.  Dalton waved at me. 

“She went that away,” said Blots, pointing across to the fleeing Hunter. 

I nodded my head politely and continued my mad dash across the rooftops, trying to spy a spot where I could make the jump back over.  It only took a moment before I found one.  I raced down one side of the roof, launching myself through the air again.

“What the hell are you doing?” asked Shart as I landed.

“Vengeance upon SueLeeta,” I growled.

“Oh, really?” exclaimed the surprised demon.  “Yes!  Let’s go kill her.”

“Well, I’m not going to kill her,” I said, grinding to a halt.  “I don’t really know what I’m going to do when I catch her.”

Well, that was a waste of time.

“Ha, knew you couldn’t catch me,” SueLeeta gloated from the top of the Town Hall.

Lurching after her again, I got to see her moment of surprise, as I activated my new Journeyman Sprint perk.  I had debated exhaustively over what option to take while Bashara was chasing after me and trying to blast me with lighting ‘just one more time.”  Finally, I had decided on the Flash Steps perk.  It allowed me to damn near teleport up to five logs forward, though it was a bit of a Stamina hog.

●        Flash Steps: You can instantly move up to your rank in Sprint +1 logs forward.  You retain all momentum from the movement.  You must be able to Sprint to the destination.  

In English, or Ordinalese I supposed, that meant that Flash Steps functionally turned me into the Roadrunner.  As long as my feet stayed on a surface, I could seemingly teleport places.  My running was just that fast!  However, Sprinting to the edge of a roof would not be one of the more intelligent things I’d done today.  Quite a low bar to miss. 

It was only my Mobility perk that kept me from falling off the roof.  I managed to get myself pointed in the right direction, and I leapt onto the roof of the Town Hall.  I was just in time to see SueLeeta running down a rope that had been strung from the roof of the Town Hall toward a large pole in the town square. 

She was moving with confidence, so I figured that I, too, could run down the rope.  I was almost right.  When I began my run across the rope, it was all I could manage, with my Mobility and more than a bit of Elven Steps, to stay upright.  SueLeeta gracefully ran across the rope; I warbled and nearly toppled as I tried to keep up.  The rope apparently was freshly made.  That meant it just barely qualified for the Elven Steps perk. 

Finally, as she got closer to the center of the packed square in the middle of town, I saw her problem.  There were people everywhere, getting ready for the parade.  For some reason, SueLeeta was trying to get down.  Probably hoping to lose me in the crowds.  Her only mistake was leaping down from the rope onto a tree. 

The branches functioned like a staircase for her, due to Elven Steps, but that slowed her down.  At about the halfway mark,  she leapt onto a wooden platform near the pole.  The dais was mostly bereft of people.  It was a tricky jump for her, but I could manage it easily enough.  I leapt down from the rope, using Mitigate to eat the Damage.  I landed directly in front of her with an impressive thud and an evil grin on my face.

“Excellent, you are here, just like SueLeeta promised,” stated Mar as he walked up beside me. “And good work avoiding the crowd, Sir!  Quite a grand entrance, indeed.”

I turned to see the entire crowd looking at me.  When I landed, it had been loud, like a gong to announce the start of festivities.  I waved at them, and the crowd began to cheer.  SueLeeta was quite skilled at traps.

Clever girl.

“Well, Mar, it's time to begin the parade,” I yelled.  The cheering crowd went wild. 

The platform was between two massive, potted trees.  Apparently, the tradition was to use two evergreen trees to hold up the VIP platform, because Grebthar had been a fan of those kinds of trees.  It made as much sense as any other tradition I’d ever experienced on Earth or Ordinal.  It also radically reduced my line of sight.  I could only see the first float in the long procession. 

Ordinal did not save the best for last, I guessed.  The first float that appeared before me was Badgelor’s.  His vehicle must have been provided by the Golden Badger, because it was covered in all of Badgelor’s favorite food.  Badgelor was sitting on an elegant throne, which still looked like a high chair, wearing a dark blue cape and eating as much as possible.  I looked at my companion and realized that he was really gaining his holiday fifteen. 

After he was pushed past us, the overstuffed badger and his feast were placed opposite the VIP platform.  It was then that the badger started going to town on his feast, really digging into the vast cornucopia of food.  He’d eat, then stop to point and laugh as a new float went past.  Then, he went back to eating.  

I began to grow suspicious, watching Badgelor’s mocking.  Realizing he had a much greater field of vision than I did, I grew more suspicious.  SueLeeta giggled, actually giggled, when OttoSherman’s float moved past the tree and came into view.  I knew what I had been expecting from the perpetually horny Lumberjack, but I was wrong.  His float was covered from top to bottom in a series of vicious looking traps.

“I helped with the leg crushers,” said SueLeeta proudly.  “Let’s see Badgelor get through those.”

I had horribly misjudged this holiday.  As OttoSherman’s float departed and HankAlvin’s rolled into its place, I gaped in astonishment.  Multiple steel traps with vicious looking teeth were scattered liberally all over a float that looked like HankAlvin’s shop floor.  There was at least one spring loaded harpoon in that mess.

“Are those saw blades?” I asked, looking at a particularly vicious trap.

“Yes, he’s been trying to get his skills high enough to work on the Wind’s Saw.  They are super sharp,” replied SueLeeta. 

“Wait, what am I seeing here?” I asked Shart.

“Traps,” replied the demon, rolling his eyes.

“Traps.  Why?”

“Inspiration,” Shart responded.

“Inspiration for what, exactly?,” I asked hotly.

“To get everyone in a trappin’ mood,” he stated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“A trapping mood?”

“My pretty, precious Dum Dum,” Shart said, patting me on the head.  “When everyone leaves here, they are going home to plant their traps.”

“So, everyone traps their houses for when Badgelor shows up?” I asked.

“Uh, yeah.  Otherwise, that ‘wily badger’ is going to steal your food,” stated Shart.  “Now, hush.  I don’t want to miss anything.”

“You are actually interested in this?” I asked. 

“Oh, sure.  I mean, I could think of a hundred more gruesome ways to off the badger than this, but it is still interesting to see.  A rare glimpse into the minds of morons.  How limited in creativity you all are,” Shart sighed sadly.

The float currently in front of us was covered in pitch sap and nails.  SueLeeta laughed as she glanced at Badgelor.  He had just placed an entire pie in his mouth, causing his furry cheeks to appear distorted.  “The great Badgelor is sure to be appeased,” she said.  “We are fattening up your badger to an insane degree.”

“Oh, that looks. . .nice,” I said, as another float came past.  This one was covered in dozens of sharp blades and feathers glued to the base.  “These are all great ideas for trapping a house.”

“They are,” agreed SueLeeta, “And we aren’t in the podunks.  Call it McCallisterizing your home, like a normal person.” 

In total, there were over forty floats in the procession.  The Best Trap award went to HankAlvin’s patented foot binding, severing saw trap.  The Testicle Tickler, a spinning chain that came up at crotch level, was a close second.  The Dashing Dandies won Best Float for their active defense build, which featured no fewer than twenty armed men guarding an icebox.

By the time the parade ended, I was positive that Badgelor was doomed.  That is, if he actually tried to enter anyone’s home this evening.  I was just glad that I wouldn’t be involved in this mess.

I flashed him a double thumbs up.  Badgelor kept on eating and waving.

The parade ended after the last float went by, and the crowd started to disperse.  The time following the parade was a time for family.  Specifically, it was a time for every family to get their traps ready.  Then, they could party, knowing that their homes were protected from bumbling, burglarizing badgers. 

Once the traps were all set up, the adults would come back to town.  While they were getting good and drunk, the kids would get dressed up and go out to steal candy from peoples’ porches.  It was the perfect combination of Christmas, Halloween, and felony breaking and entering. 

Badgelor had passed out on his little platform.  His stomach bulged from overindulgence.  As I scooped him up and threw him over my shoulder, he let out a deafening belch.  The air smelled like goblin piss and tomato soup.

“Poor little guy ate until he passed out,” I chuckled, as Fenris walked up.  He sniffed the foul air and backed up several paces.

“He did an excellent job as a stand-in,” stated the Warden.  

I nodded to Glorious Robert and SueLeeta, and we headed off toward my home for the fateful meeting. 

Chapter 17: Fateful Meeting

I held all the important meetings in my house for some reason.  That just came with the territory of being the mayor, I supposed.  I didn’t even want to think about what my hosting budget was anymore.

Ashe had laid out several plates with a variety of foodstuffs before vanishing back to front door duties.  I was told the various dishes were all seasonal and topical.  Apparently, pumpkin pie was big for Grebthar Day, as well as hams and cheeses.  There was a cabbage dish that tasted an awful lot like sauerkraut and cheese.  It also smelled an awful lot like cat turds.  Amongst the sweets, there were piles of fudge and donuts shaped like badgers and little gingerbread Grebthars. 

All in all, it was a good holiday spread.  I was satisfied with Ashe’s choices after my third piece of fudge.

Of course, the tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife.  Everyone present had taken a small plate and gathered around the table.  My table had plenty of seating, and everyone had chosen to sit away from me.  From their positions, I was forced to look all of them directly in the face.  

SueLeeta was sitting next to Dalton, who was sitting at the foot of the table.  She was watching me cautiously.  Bashara was sitting on a nearby chair, unwilling to sit with the rest of us at the table.  She was trying, and failing, to look unconcerned about the whole affair.   

That left Fenris and Glorious Robert.  Both were watching me carefully but trying to not show it.  Both were doing a wee better job than Sir Dalton.  The Knight obviously wanted to go into the dungeon; he was nearly chomping at the bit, fidgeting in his chair in a most un-Sir Dalton-like fashion.  Fenris and Glorious Robert were only doing slightly better by comparison.  I could see each man evaluating the arguments they would make before we headed off to the dungeon tomorrow.

Zorlando slunk in, looking apprehensive, even though Ashe had just exited the room.  She did have a skill that allowed her to appear out of nowhere, but he didn't seem concerned about running into his girlfriend.  He wandered behind Sir Dalton, who looked up at him for a moment.  The Knight seemed to shrug, accepting the unspoken self-invitation.  Watching Glorious Robert and Fenris, I wouldn’t say they were quite glaring at Zorlando, but then again, I’m a gentleman.

Finally, Jarra the Healer entered.  I hadn’t seen her much in the last few days, but I’d been busy.  I hadn’t made it a point to go seek her out.  Her long hair was tied back in a braid that appeared similar to SueLeeta’s, though I suspected a braid was about all one could do with that much hair.  What I didn’t expect was how cute she looked.  She was wearing a sleeveless shirt that clearly was there to show off her guns.  She’d chosen to sit at the table only a few seats down from me, daring anyone to tell her to move.

“Happy Badger’s Night,” I said, trying to break the tension.  I failed spectacularly.

“Mister Mayor, you will need a firm shield to protect everyone, and I’m well aware of Warden tactics,” started Fenris.

“Yar’ soft!  I’m a great defender and a good striker.  I can protect with a shield or beat the shit of a skeezer using a variety of weapons,” stated Glorious Robert.

“That may be true, but a shield can be used offensively as well as defensively,” countered Fenris.  “It seems to me that I could be useful, if we had to defend the party.  A partial striker might be useless at that point.”

“Oh, that’s where yar going?” asked Glorious Robert.  “Yar’ gonna go there?  Just because I’m good at a variety of roles doesn’t mean I’m bad at any of them.  Plus, I can use whatever goodies we find down there.  We might find a sword or shield that offends your delicate Woodsman sensibilities.”

Both men were glaring at each other.  Sir Dalton, in a rare show of wisdom, kept his mouth shut.  That didn’t last, as Fenris rounded on him.

“It seems to me that you’d want someone in control over his emotions.  Someone you could trust, who wouldn’t go rushing off for glory,” stated Fenris.  I doubted he was catching the irony of controlled emotions in his never-before-seen outburst.

“Ha, the dogs yap at the lion,” chuckled the massive Knight.  “I’m worth both of you together in that dungeon, and you know it.”

“Well, maybe Jim doesn’t want to go into a dungeon with a ninja looter,” stated Glorious Robert. 

The chair Sir Dalton was sitting in flew back as he leapt to his feet.  The only thing stopping it from turning over was Zorlando.  The Mercenary’s quick instincts were on display as he sidestepped while he stuck his hand out to catch it.

“You dare question my honor, you fishmonger?” growled the Knight.  He went to reach for his sword, but it was, thankfully, in his room.

“Maybe I do.  Maybe we go outside and settle this,” stated Glorious Robert.  “I’ve heard no one is as great as Dalton.  Maybe I disagree with that.”

“Why is she here?” asked Bashara.  She was using that special tone a woman has that cuts through a whole room.

“You’ll need a healer,” Jarra the Healer answered simply.

“We might need your potions.  I doubt we’ll need a healer, honey,” said Bashara.  “Especially just a lowly little commoner one.”  She used the word commoner like an insult, and I saw Jarra and Zorlando both bristle at the term.

“Language,” stated Fenris, with less than his usual snap.

“I was going to bring her,” stated SueLeeta, causing several of the adventurers to look at her.  “She’d be my cohort in the dungeon.”

“That’s going to cost you experience points,” said Bashara with a sneer.

“I’m willing to pay them,” replied SueLeeta.  “After all, I’m really in this for the treasure, far more than for the experience points.  Having a healer will be useful.”

“That’s adorable,” chuckled Bashara, “but not very useful.  There is a health cap to get into the door.”

“I’ve been training with the Militia,” stated Jarra the Healer.  “I’ve hit the Hit Point cap for Militia members.”

I glanced at her and saw that it was true.  She was also listed as a lieutenant in the town Militia, which gave her access to several of the buildings I’d had constructed in the Barracks.  However, even with all the bonuses, she was only up to 150 Hit Points. 

“Tough luck, Toots,” grinned Bashara.  “Minimum is 200 Hit Points, and those have to be natural Hit Points.  No using potions to sauce yourself over the line.”

Jarra looked at me pleadingly.  I was at a loss as to what to say.  The thought of Jarra being in danger caused me to freeze up. 

“It's probably for the best,” stated Fenris, adopting the manner of someone delivering bad news. “The dungeon is going to be very dangerous.  Two hundred Hit Points is the minimum you can enter by, not the recommended.”

Jarra stood up.  “Well then, I suppose there is no reason for me to be here.  I’ll leave some potions here in the morning.”  With that, she walked out.  Bashara waved at her as she left.  However, the Wizard’s triumphant grin died as she caught my furious eyes.  Instantly, she smoothed her features into more of a neutral poker face. 

While that interplay had been ongoing, Fenris, Glorious Robert, and Sir Dalton were in the middle of a lively discussion about which of the two of them paired up best.  I was assuming it would come to blows shortly and was trying to figure out how to save my table.   I realized my best option and dropped into menu time. 

As the world slowed, I wondered how it got to this.  Mentally jerking myself away from my character sheet, I stepped back in my mindscape and looked around.  Most of what was in front of me was clear, except for the character sheet.  I could see a storm raging in the distance and knew it was part of my anger manifesting in my mindscape. 

It was because I’d let Jarra go, and I hadn’t even stood up for her.  She could die in the dungeon, but wasn’t that her choice?  Yet, somehow, I couldn't bear the thought of her being injured.  I crushed that feeling.  She was a grown woman.  If she wanted to put herself at risk, that was her decision and her responsibility. 

As my thoughts piled onto very uncomfortable places, I looked for an escape.  Turning around, I walked over to the edge and looked down.  I quickly spotted my house on Earth.  It looked just like I remembered it, obviously.  Nearby was a bar I used to visit, looking just as run down on the outside as it always had.  Shart was waddling into it. 

“The hell?” I thought, causing more lightning in the distance.  I leapt off the raised platform that my active consciousness sat upon and landed down below.  In the soft, green grass, a vaguely familiar burned husk of a tree sat.  I could not remember why it was important, so I kicked it.  The husk faded away into nothingness. 

Probably shouldn’t do that.

I walked over to the bar and looked inside.  The windows were actually transparent, unlike in my home, where they were quite opaque.  Shart was sitting at the bar on the stool I liked to sit on.  He held something in his hand and appeared to be reading from it. 

None of the doors in my mindscape ever worked, but I kind of figured this one would.  It was an unexplained hunch.  I pushed the door open, causing my familiar to spin around and look at me, eyes widening as he realized he’d been caught.

“So, this is where you hide?” I yelled.

Shart groaned.  He was forced to be truthful, due to the nature of our bond.  Simple questions were the hardest for him to maneuver around.

“Well that depends on. . .” he sighed.  “Yes, alright?  I hide in your mind,” he grumbled. 

“I thought you teleported away and hid somewhere,” I growled.

“No, I’m a demon.  I don’t have the same limitations you have.  Think about it.  Have you ever seen me on the outside when I’m in here talking with you in your mindscape?” asked Shart. 

I inhaled sharply.  I’d seen Shart in my mind more times than I could count, but I never saw him outside when we were talking in here.  I hadn’t been talking to a mental projection of Shart.  I was talking to the actual demon. 

“How does that even work?” I groaned, sitting on a stool.

“You think you really delve into your head when you switch into your mindscape?” asked Shart.  He shook his head slightly.  “Wait, don’t answer that.  You probably do, and you are wrong.  Not ‘would be’ wrong.  You are wrong.  You are a multidimensional being, like me.  Well, not just like me, because I’m in way more dimensions than you.  However, you are in a few.”

“And one of those dimensions is my mind?” I asked.

“Yes, praise be to Grebthar, the light has dawned,” said Shart with a contented sigh.  He peaked out a window and saw that it was still dark outside.  “No it hasn’t, damn it.”  The demon pinched the bridge of his nose and turned back to me.  “Yes, you have a dimension that is just your mind.  You and I can both access it.  Technically, a skilled enough Mentalist could make a go for it, if they wanted to.  They wouldn’t have nearly the access I do, though.  Shit, I can go through every nook and cranny of your soul.  You should see what I’m doing to your Dimensional Sheath.”

“So my mindscape is like an  extradimensional pocket where my thoughts and character sheet go?” I asked.

“Yes, Dum Dum.  Did you think it was stored in your brain or something?” responded Shart.

“You do your thinking in your brain,” I replied.

“Yes, and some blood cooling, but mainly the thinking.  However, you don’t store <data> there.  You store it with your character sheet.  Otherwise, if you ReMorted, you’d have to start from scratch every single time,” explained Shart. 

“So it's like my soul?” I asked.

“No, it's the spiritual or immaterial part of you.  Your particular version of the soul seems like some Earth rubbish,” stated Shart.

“But the mind space carries over between versions of myself?” I asked.  I was aware that Ordinal was big on reincarnation.  Having your memories separated from your body seemed to be the mechanic for it.

“Yes, now you are getting it,” stated Shart.

“And your plan is to erase my character sheet in my mind space, freeing it up for you to put in your own memories?” I asked.

Shart sat for a moment before sighing.  “Well, yeah, when you say it like that it sounds utterly terrible, but it's not like I want to do it.  I just don’t have any good options.”

I nodded.  It was a moot point.  I had no intention of going through a Demon Door, so I wasn’t really worried about my soul. 

“Everyone is complaining about who is going into the dungeon,” I said, changing the subject.

“So?  They whine a lot.  That’s one of the main reasons I leave when more than a few of you mortals get together.  Everyone just starts prattling on about nonsense,” replied Shart. “What are the dumb one, the big dumb one, the short one, and the mustached one complaining about now?”

“You know their names,” I stated. 

Shart rolled his eyes.  “I might know them, but I don’t care.  I literally give absolutely no shits about them.  Not even a little pebble from a constipated dolphin,” he said.  “The only reason I remember yours is because your name is ridiculous, Dum Dum.”

Shart stared at me non-pulsed.  It was my turn to roll my eyes. 

“They want me to pick which four of them will come with me,” I said, thinking out loud.  “I’m going to upset some people, no matter what I do.”

“You mortals get upset about all the little things,” said Shart. 

“Going into a dungeon seems pretty important,” I replied. 

“Hmm,” harrumphed Shart, “Before I start to tell you how stupid you are, and believe me, that will take a while, have you checked out your Party Leader talent?”

I groaned and tried to bring up the Party Leader menu.  Nothing happened.  I tried again, and Shart snorted.  I focused all my Will on making the menu appear, scrunching up my forehead in concentration. Finally, Shart laughed. 

“Maybe you should go outside, Dum Dum,” Shart flat out giggled. 

I walked back to the door and looked up, noticing that the Party Leader menu filled up most of the sky.  I couldn’t see all of it because the platform was in the way.

As I was about to leap up to the platform, Shart laughed so hard he fell off his stool.  “Just Will yourself there, you gigantic idiot.”

I closed my eyes and exhaled.  When I opened them again, I was on the platform.  Shart was sitting on the ‘P’ in the Party Leader menu.

“See, maximum party size: 4,” I said looking at the sheet.  I had accumulated a fair bit of party experience by leading strike groups against the trolls.  I actually gave out a passive +10% Damage to all my party members at my current level. 

“So you have a value on your sheet?” asked Shart.

Oh feck.

The five man party was ingrained into me from World of Warcraft.  I used the search feature and found an Increased Party Size perk that I could take repeatedly.  It wasn’t even that expensive, so I purchased it three times.  Now, my maximum party size was listed as seven. 

“That was easy,” I said.  Shart just shrugged.

I searched the Party Leader perks.  They were not as limited as War Leader perks, and there were actually a few that, under certain conditions, granted bonus Hit Points.

“What about one that grants bonus Hit Points while in dungeons?” I asked.  “Would this help someone get into a dungeon?”

“No, situational bonus Hit Points don’t count,” stated Shart.  “They have to be permanent Hit Points.  As you have no idea what that means, I’ll explain.  If they have a way to be situationally removed, such as a duration or location, they are semi-permanent.”

So, no party buffs or magical potions.  My best magical ring was still twenty points shy of what Jarra needed.  Well there goes that idea.

“What does count?” I asked.

“Gear mainly,” responded Shart.  “Magical armor and rings.”

“But those can be removed,” I said, and Shart laughed. He’s a veritable Mr. Chuckles today.

“See if Sir Dalton can remove your bracers against your will,” said Shart.  “When you attune something to your Mana network, it becomes impossible for someone else to remove without also removing the body part.  It’s a feature that only really matters to casters, but everyone can do it. ”

I looked down and realized that my magical bracers were still on my person, despite being in my mindscape.  Studying myself, I realized that all of my magical gear was still on me, but my actual ‘Avatar’ in this place wasn’t normal. 

My leather armor that I always wore was my skin.  There was only a space underneath it if I willed it there.  Concentrating for a moment, I caused my appearance to change from Ordinal Jim to Earth Jim.  I was a bit fuzzy on the details, and I didn’t do the glasses.  Aside from that, I was a slightly overweight, middle-aged, balding IT professional from Ohio, complete with the Buckeyes sweater. 

“That’s what you looked like?” guffawed Shart.  “You should be happy you died.  What the hell are you wearing?”

“A sweater from THE Ohio State University,” I answered.

“I didn’t know it was a THE,” stated Shart abruptly, before uncharacteristically softening.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to insult your university.”

There were a great number of party perks I could afford.  These did everything from making resting in dungeons easier to providing bonus Damage against specific types of monsters.  I purchased one of the extra Hit Point Perks, because it wasn’t too expensive. Then, I spotted a perk that reduced the penalties for a large party that could be purchased up to ten times.  I bought it three times, paying a raising cost with each purchase.  Then, I stopped.  I’d save the other points until I got the lay of the land. 

I dropped out of menu time just as the shouting was beginning.

“Enough!” I stated.  “I've made my decision.  I’m going to send an invite to everyone I want to bring in with me.  I will also send one to Bashara.”

She glared at me, but she was still getting an invite.  That was sufficient for her.

Sir Dalton grinned.  He looked first to Fenris, who was also smiling, and then to Glorious Robert, who was likewise happy.  Then he spun around to examine SueLeeta, who looked placid.  His eyes widened, and he hastened to accept the invite.

As did everyone else.  I quickly had a party to lead with five members. 

“Wait, you have five slots?” asked Glorious Robert.  “You have to be at least level 20 to unlock a 5th slot.”

“Jim is a higher level than he lets on,” stated SueLeeta. 

“Fucking townie thinks he’s a clown,” growled Glorious Robert under his breath,  glaring at me as much as he dared. 

“There’s supposed to be a 10% experience loss for being a five man party,” stated Fenris adopting the distant eyed look of a man checking his menus.  “I’m not seeing it.”

A five man party was six people, because it referred to how many people the party leader brought with him.  Ordinal was still weird. 

“What would the loss be for a six man party?” asked Zorlando quietly.

“I think a 25% experience point loss,” stated Fenris.  “You have to be level 35 to get the sixth slot, though”

“You are correct on both counts,” replied Sir Dalton.  “I have personally quested with a 37th level Knight.  It was a glorious time to be with someone so powerful.”

“Did you know that if a normal person touches a Dungeon Core, they become an adventurer?” asked Zorlando reverently.

“That may be an old wives’ tale,” stated Fenris, eyeing the Mercenary Captain.

“You’d have to be in the actual party, not a tag along,” chuckled Bashara.  “Who is going to give you an invite?”

“Mayhaps, but if you ever got the chance. . .” he said longingly, accepting my invite.

Everyone got that notification at once.  All heads turned to me. 

“You are level 35?” asked Sir Dalton, wide-eyed.

“I have the capacity to have a six man party,” I replied.

●        Party Size: 6, 10% (25% experience penalty - 3 X 5% Large Party penalty reduction)

“Magical item or trait?” asked Bashara, standing up and looking me up and down.  “He might have an item that increases his party limit without the cost.  I’m guessing trait, though.  If such an item existed, he could have sold it and retired by now.”

“You hear about legendary traits, but, by the gods, you never see them in person,” stated Glorious Robert. 

“Someone figured out how to get his Badger’s Night gifts early,” chuckled SueLeeta, winking at me. 

Sir Dalton looked ready to comment but stopped himself and shrugged.  “So, not that high of a level after all.  I know I’m great, but defeating someone level 35 in a duel would have been impressive, even for me.”

“Should we bring in a non-adventurer, though?” wondered Fenris after a moment, steeling himself as a man about to deliver bad news.  “They are less capable than an adventurer.”

“I don’t see why we are bringing in a commoner.  We are losing experience, and he can’t even earn experience,” stated Bashara, gesturing to Zorlando.  “Dungeons are for the Chosen, not the rabble.”

“Maybe because every time Windfall has needed me, I have stood there to defend her,” stated Zorlando heatedly.  “Maybe because we lowly commoners can do great things, too, if we are allowed.”

Fenris looked down ashamed.  Bashara rolled her eyes before turning to Sir Dalton.  “We all know the mayor is all lovey dovey toward the commoners.  He’s not objective.  Seriously, Sir Dalton, do we need to bring in a commoner?  He’s yours.  Tell him to be your cohort.”

Sir Dalton sat quietly for a moment, as Zorlando stared imploringly at him.  “Normal logic is to not bring Professional individuals into dungeons, as dungeons are far too dangerous.  However, Zorlando has had my back several times now.  He has shown himself very capable in battle.  If this is what he wants, I cannot refuse him with honor.”

Bashara threw up her hands and sighed.  “You people are crazy!  We are throwing away experience for nothing!”

“Honor is not nothing,” stated Sir Dalton, as he decided what he was called to do.  “We need to behave honorably.  We are Chos. . .adventurers.”  He turned to me and nodded. 

“The next thing you’ll be doing is letting Jarra the Healer in the group, assuming Jim has another opening,” growled Bashara.

“Maybe he should, even without another opening.  We could ditch an annoying Wizard,” said SueLeeta.

“Enough!” I said again.  “I have it on good authority that there are magical traps that only a Wizard can disarm.  We only have one option for a Wizard.  It’s unfortunate, to be sure, but Bashara is it.”

“Shame you can’t just figure out some Wizard skills,” grumbled SueLeeta.

“That would be awesome, but I can’t,” I replied stiffly.  Fenris looked at me for a moment, before returning his gaze to Zorlando and Sir Dalton.  Glancing over at those two, I realized that Sir Dalton was honestly considering Zorlando for the first time.  His tough little Knight mind was cracking a bit.  Dalton was a protective bear to anyone inside his circle, and that circle mostly included his daughters.  Now, it looked like Zorlando at least had a toe in.

Will wonders never cease.

With the party decided, planning went much simpler.  The Phoenix Moon would rise tomorrow after noon, in the middle of the pre-Grebthar Day celebrations.  We would head directly to the castle, ensuring we would be there when it first opened.  We would do all of this after a restful Badger’s Night.  That gave Fenris and Dalton enough time to make sure their kids had a good Badger’s Night, and the rest of us got to sleep in.  Not having to get up with the sun would certainly be helpful, as pretty much everyone was getting ready to go to the massive party that we could hear gearing up in the town square. 

Shart and Badgelor were fighting, so I stepped out of the house and into the late afternoon air.  Glancing down the street, it only took me a moment to find who I was looking for.  I walked two houses down and into the alley.  With my ring on, I could feel only the slightest twinge from Shart. 

“I’m sorry,” I said.  Jarra the Healer’s head snapped up to look at me.  She was sitting on an overturned carton, quietly crying just out of sight from the street. 

She looked at me bleakly for a moment before wiping her face with her sleeve.  “It's alright, you Chosen don’t have to apologize to us lowly commoners.”

“You have never been a lowly anything,” I retorted sharply.  “And I’m an adventurer, not some blasted Chosen.”

“You say that, but I don’t know if I believe you now,” she said.  “I don’t know what to believe anymore.”  She looked up to me with her tear-stained face.  I didn’t know what to say, so I just sat down next to her.

We sat there for a long, uncomfortable time, her occasionally sobbing, and me being useless.  Finally, she said, “This is never going to work, is it?”

I started to speak, but she cut me off.  “I knew it couldn’t happen.  You are Jim, the adventurer, mayor, and savior of Windfall.  I’m a lowly healer.  You were just so nice when you didn’t need to be.  Then, I thought you were only being a gentleman when opportunities presented themselves.”

“Opportunities?” I asked numbly.

“I came to comfort you when you returned from the. . .Puma Forest,” she chuckled.  “You know what kind of comfort that is, don't you?”

I had known.  I had been reborn on Ordinal for two weeks, and I had a beautiful blond throwing herself at me. 

“You hear about Chosen who don’t consort with the lesser folk,” she sniffed.  “That’s what it's like up in the far north, in the Kingdom of HarCharles.  Fenris is from up there.  He had to book it south when he met and fell in love with AvaSophia.  She mostly straightened him out, but it's still there, if you look hard enough.”

I hadn’t known that about Fenris. 

“Grebthar never stood for that.  He believed everyone was equal.  Everyone had value.  Life isn’t like the stories, though.  Every adventurer I’ve ever met looked down their nose at me the second they met me, except for you,” said Jarra sadly.  “You looked at me like I was a person.”

“What about SueLeeta?” I asked, horrified.

“She was like the others, at first, but she kept coming back.  She had to.  I was the one selling the potions.  At some point, she realized that we were friends.  Now, she acts like a big sister and tries to protect me,” said Jarra determinedly.  “I am not her little sister, though.  I am an adult, and I’ll make my own choices, even if they are foolish.”

“You are worth protecting,” I said softly.

“There it is, Jim.  When you saved everyone at the fortress, you brought me hope,” she smiled sadly.  “But hope always fails.”

I looked deeply into her eyes, her face.  All of the images in my mind were of only her now.  She was her own person, and I was an idiot.

I kissed her.  She was startled, but just for a moment.  Then, she hesitantly returned the kiss.  As the seconds ticked by, the kiss became more and more passionate.  Jarra was crying and kissing me all at the same moment.  It was messy, and wet, and absolutely perfect.  For one moment, everything seemed perfect.

Then, someone tapped me on the shoulder.  I turned my head slightly, separating from Jarra with a slight pop.  A small child stood there, watching us intently.

“I found her,” Grace, dressed as a princess, shrieked.  Three more costumed children wandered into the alley.  Somehow, in the intervening instant, Jarra had managed to stand up, straighten her dress, and put on a more neutral expression.

“So, you four will be staying at my home tonight?” Jarra asked, almost calmly.

“Yes, so Badgelor can come visit,” one of them cried out.

”Without any property damage!” added another.

“I thought I was to find you in the inn, with MaGetty,” said Jarra, using that steel-edged pleasantness that only a woman could muster.

“She told us that you were late and probably sulking around the mayor’s house,” explained one of the other  kids.

“And you managed to find me in an alley two houses down, talking with the mayor?” Jarra asked.

“Not on our own,” said one of the girls.  “We had help.”

Jarra raised an eyebrow, and the little girl giggled and pointed toward Badgelor.  He was peering around the corner, his little tail flicking left and right.  He was also glaring at me.  Shart was on Badgelor’s back, pointing and laughing silently.  He looked like a balloon that was inflating, rapidly approaching the point that he would pop. 

You traitors.

“Yes, he needs the mayor to get ready for tonight,” grinned Grace.  Jarra rotated her head to look at me straight on. 

“I’ll have a talk with him,” I growled.  “Badgelor, why don’t you take the children to our front porch.  Jarra the Healer and I will be there momentarily.”

“Be quick about it,” he said, marching the kids off. 

“I’m sorry about that,” I said, turning to Jarra.  Whatever moment we’d had was over, at least for the time being.

“We can talk about it tomorrow,” she said with a shy smile.  “After all, I’ll need to deliver the potions I’m making for you before you leave.  We can figure this out when you get back from the dungeon.  I mean, if you want to, that is.”

I nodded.  I still felt conflicted, but less so.  I had only been here a little over a month and now this.  We walked back to my front porch, and Jarra took control over the kids.  They departed, the children anxious to go out for the evening and secure their badger bait.

That left me alone with my little cockblock duo.  Badgelor trundled up to me and sat down.  “We need to talk.”

“I was having a moment,” I said.  “I was coming to grips with the fact that my old life is dead.  I need to adjust to a new life here on Ordinal.”

“Excuse me,” growled Badgelor, “but I have a problem that is far more critical than that.”

“What problem would that possibly be? I responded icily. 

“Badger’s Night is tonight.  I need your help,” stated Badgelor.  He looked like he was fidgeting. “I’m not sure I can do all the houses myself.”

“Do all the houses?” I asked.  “Wait, you mean you are actually dropping all the presents off at everyone’s houses.  I thought you’d leave them at the Golden Badger or something.”

“No!  If I’m in town, I like to hand deliver all the presents to the little children,” stated Badgelor.  “It's a point of personal pride.”

“We should have done that at the parade,” I said, grabbing another piece of fudge. Badgelor promptly snatched it out of my hand.

“No, you git, we have to deliver them into their houses, just like the poem says,” said Badgelor.

“You want me to help you deliver the toys to those people’s houses, like Badgelor did on the original Badger’s Night?” I asked, chuckling.

“Yes, thank you for understanding.  I’ve already taken the liberty of splitting up the town into two halves,” stated Badgelor. 

“We’d have to break into over fifty houses.  If you haven’t noticed, those same houses are all full of traps tonight,” I replied.  “I’m getting the fact that you have badger envy, but that’s a pretty tall order.”

Badgelor sighed.  “I didn’t want to mention this, but we badgers get a special power on Badger’s Night.  It lets us complete our task with time to spare.”

“Really?” I asked.  “And this helps me how?”

“With your Improved Companion Bond perk, you’ll be able to sneak into the houses, no problem.  Consider yourself deputized,” said the badger smugly.

“So, if you’d have time to spare, why do you need my help?” I asked.

“Small problem.  My pool of stopped time isn’t bottomless, and some of that time went to you through our bond,” stated Badgelor.  “Because of you, I won’t have enough time to do the whole village by myself!”

“Shart, is he pulling my leg?” I asked my shoulder demon.

“Actually, no.  On Badger’s Night, each badger gets a special power to help them hide gifts,” said Shart.

I turned my head to fully face my demon.  “You have to be kidding me.”

“Nope, time stands still so you can deliver presents,” stated the demon.  “I can explain it in more detail, but it involves magical terms.  Your Dum Dum little head would explode.”

“Why were badgers granted this power?” I asked.

“That would be one of the magical terms that would make your head explode,” grinned Shart. 

“You know, if you’d told me I was going to be helping Santa deliver presents one day, I’d have called you a liar.”

“Who is Santa?  Can I eat him?” asked Badgelor.  “Delivering presents is my deal.”

Chapter 18: Badgers Night

The party was quite impressive, spilling out into the various side streets.  There was singing, dancing, and cavorting.  There was also drinking.  Lots and lots of drinking. Children from around the village were in their costumes running between houses to get bait for Badgelor.  The candy was put into small bait buckets.  The whole thing looked pretty much like Halloween with a different color pallet. 

The last I saw Jarra the Healer, she was leading her crew around to score candy from the various houses.  Apparently, the only way to prevent Badgelor from coming to your house was to not have kids there.  That fact had caused the ladies at the Golden Badger to hand all of theirs off to a variety of people.  The Barracks actually took a few kids in, specifically so Badgelor would try to sneak in and steal their stuff.  Zorlando had even invited Ashe over to the Barracks later tonight, supposedly to help watch the children.  Supposedly   

Zorlando was a clever guy.  

“You could have at least jumped through the demon door as a Badger’s Night present for me,” grumbled Shart.  I had fully avoided that particular party game.  I really didn’t want to go through any demon doors, real or pretend. 

After a suitable amount of time had passed, I said my goodbyes and wandered over to my empty house.  Zorlando was with Ashe handing out candy on my front porch, and Sir Dalton was with his daughters, most of them, at least.  I was home alone, on the most holy night of the year, with Shart and Badgelor. 

I spent most of my time in my workshop, trying to make an improved Ring of Vitality.  Even with my more advanced skills, the best I could get was still not up to the task at hand. 

●        Ring of Vitality, improved.  +30 Hit Points, + 30 Stamina, Quality: Masterwork

Placing it on the table, I looked at my new armor.  It was half-plate and much nicer than anything I had made or purchased.  Even better, it had been manufactured in Windfall, meaning that my smiths were finally leveling up enough to start producing higher quality goods.

“Shart, what’s the difference in calling someone Professional or commoner?” I asked.

“Depends on where you are from.  Traditionally Grebthar called anyone who wasn’t an adventurer a Professional and the word kind of stuck.  He’s been gone for a long time though and adventurer’s started calling themselves the Chosen and everyone else a commoner,” replied the demon.

“Is what Jarra the Healer said true?  Are they treated like second class citizens elsewhere?” I asked already knowing the answer.  I was tapping on my new armor with a hammer.  As great as it was, several of the joints still needed adjusting.

“Yes,” replied the demon.

“Isn’t that wrong?” I asked.

“Wrong is a matter of opinion here,” said Shart, walking over to sit on my empty armor stand. “Being one of the Chosen really is better than being a commoner.  You live longer, have more Hit Points, and can do more with less training.  In every category that you could think of to compare people, Chosen are better than the common man.”

“But everyone is born equal,” I said reflexively.

“Like hell they are,” stated Shart.  “You were ‘born’ on Ordinal with crazy abilities. Fenris is in his early thirties and is a far more capable leader of men than Zorlando.  The same Zorlando who’s older than Fenris, has been a Mercenary since he was twelve years old, and fought in ten times as many battles as Fenris has.”

“I thought Zorlando was younger than Fenris,” I said, but then realized it was the confidence talking.  Zorlando acted confident; Fenris was confident.  There was a difference. 

“He’s thirty-two,” replied Shart.  “It gets worse.  Zorlando is more likely to get hurt, heals slower, and learns skills far less quickly.  Hell, if you strip him out of his equipment, he’s not that much tougher than the average member of the Militia.”

“We should still treat people equally,” I said.

“Should we?” replied the demon.  “Should we treat the adventurers the same way as the rabble?  Nations that did that got swallowed up by nations that realized that you Chosen are the way to win wars.  Do you want to guess how many kings were Chosen and how many were common-born?”

“I’d wager not many,” I said.

“Hardly any.  Those that were tended to be offed by Chosen who desired their thrones.  A high-level assassin can kill pretty much any commoner in the world without much trouble,” said Shart. 

“Well, where I came from, everyone was created equal,” I said.

“I call bullshit,” stated Shart.  “Few people are truly created equal.”

“Equal under the law.”

“I doubt that’s true as well,” stated Shart.  “People with money and influence and people who are poor and unpopular are never treated equally.  That’s one of the main advantages of having money and influence.”

“I’m still going to treat people equally,” I replied.

“That’s very Grebtharian of you, you idiot.”

“You said that you did something to my extradimensional storage?” I asked after a moment.

“Indeed, I did,” replied the demon cheerfully.  “Since you are my bonded Familiar, I merged our dimensional storages.  More accurately, I linked your tiny space with my massive space.  Now, when that bitch tries to show off her extradimensional pocket, you can pull out a boulder.  I have conveniently placed one in storage, by the way.  You know, just in case you need it.”

That was actually pretty useful.  Shart was a bit of a kleptomaniac.  He frequently put odd, assorted bits of nonsense into his nearly limitless extradimensional pocket.  There was no telling what I could yank out of it in a pinch.

Badgelor stepped into the room, “It's time.”

Chapter 19: An Evening to Remember

I grabbed the large sack stuffed full of toys and began dividing them up.  I opened Shart’s mouth and started roughly shoving the toys in there, causing Badgelor’s eyes to go wide.

“We do not do that,” he hissed, slapping a toy out of my hand.  He then dove, headfirst, into Shart.  He came up with the few toys I’d stored there.  “I’m Badgelor!  We will do everything good and proper.  That means we use a Badger’s Sack!”

“A Badger’s Sack?” I questioned.

“Yes,” groaned Badgelor, “It's tradition.  You have to have a large sack of presents on your back.  That way, the kiddies know they are getting something.”

I sniffed the bag he had provided.  “Badgelor, your sack stinks.”

“I don’t care!  You have to work the sack anyway,” growled the badger.  “This is a special occasion, and I need you to handle my sack with the respect it deserves.”

“It smells like old bologna,” I gagged.  “What are these lumps?”

“Are you sure you should be checking Badgelor’s Sack for lumps?” asked Shart.

“I’d want to be able to report them, if we found anything unusual,” I said.

“My Sack is fine!  Just get both of your hands on it and let's get started,” commanded the badger. 

Grumbling, I picked up the bulging sack.  It was heavy, and I had to blow some hair out of my mouth.  “You really need to take better care of your Sack, if you want other people to handle it.”

Following the badger out of the house, we walked onto the main street.  In this moonlight, the street itself was well-lit.  I was initially concerned that we’d be noticed.  My fears were alleviated when I saw a sheet of paper hovering off the ground, indicating that time had indeed stopped.

“Well, that’s weird,” I said, walking over and grabbing it.  It seemed to quiver in my hands for a second.  Once it stopped its brief quivering, it acted just like any other piece of paper.  I released it, and it fell to the ground.  Upon landing, it adopted the same hovering, static appearance it had when I’d first seen it.

“If you are done screwing around, we have a bunch of houses to get to.  You take these, and I’ll get the rest,” stated Badgelor, handing me a map.  It was a map drawn by someone with a bit of skill, because it actually looked like the town.  It had then been modified by Badgelor, to show me where to go.  His modifications involved him scratching marks into the map with his claws. 

Not ideal, but this could work. The first place on my list was HankAlvin’s house.  Badgelor and I broke apart, with Shart obviously coming with me. 

“This seems stupid,” I said to Shart as Badgelor waddled off in the opposite direction.

“Well, you went along with it,” replied the demon.

“I need to get Badgelor up to Friendly for the next step on my Path,” I replied.

“Aw, Dum Dum is being less than noble.  That’s hilarious,” mocked Shart.

“What do you think?  I’m just a carbon copy do gooder?” I replied, as we arrived at our first house, HankAlvin’s place was right off the square, not much further from my house than the Town Hall.  I felt a slight twinge as we grew closer and noticed that time seemed to be behaving itself again.

“I think you act with your heart more than your head.  Mind you, that’s probably a good thing, considering the mush you have in your head,” observed Shart.  I knelt down and pulled out my lockpicks.  “You shouldn’t care about anyone but you.  It's going to get you killed one of these days.”

“I think with my head plenty,” I replied as the lock clicked open.  “You just think with that shriveled little black heart of yours.”  I opened the door and stared inside.  Quite suddenly, a potted plant landed squarely on top of my skull.

“That looked painful,” said Shart, as I clutched the top of my head.  It was actually very painful.  My Mitigate skill hadn’t kicked on.  Neither did any of my Detect Trap skills. 

“Wait, I can’t use my skills?” I asked.

“Of course not, you are in a stasis bubble,” stated Shart with a chuckle.  “If you’d ever pay attention to what I’m saying, you’d realize how much of a mess you are in. Don’t worry, though.  Your healing factor should be through the roof at the moment.”

As I rubbed my head, my Hit Points shot back up to full.  “Oh, no.”

The door swung all the way open to reveal dozens of traps located throughout the room.  I did a quick check.  Any skills with a time component didn’t work, so Mitigate, Dodge, and most others were flat out.  I could still use my Stealth skill, but my Danger Sense and Detect Traps didn’t work because of. . . crazy badger magic 

Oh, feck me, you glorious arsehole.  I immediately began making a mental list of ways to kill Badgelor.

Well, I had a ton of Hit Points, and I wasn’t a quitter, unfortunately.  I snuck into the house as carefully as I could.  The first floor of HankAlvin’s house was mostly his shop, but there was an extension on the back.  There was also a second story and an oversized attic.  To access the door leading to the family’s living quarters, I had to sneak through the shop and to the extension.  From there, I could head to the back and find the room HankAlvin’s daughter slept in.  That was the most likely place for her to have left her old toy out for exchange. 

“Didn’t he have a harpoon launcher?” wondered Shart, as I deftly moved through the traps. I successfully avoided all of the multiple bear traps on the floor. 

“Yes,” I growled.  He had also thrown a bunch of caltrops on the floor, so walking between the traps was annoying. 

“Where do you think he put it?” asked the demon.

“The trap door, probably,” I said, remembering the trapdoor I’d found the original blacksmithing supplies in.  I barely managed to pull my head back as the harpoon erupted from the trapdoor, its steel tip splitting the end of my nose apart. 

I stumbled backward, stepping on a bear trap.  It snapped shut around my foot, and the chain it was attached to started pulling.  That caused me to lose my balance and fall.  I managed to get one hand on the ground, palm first, into a caltrop.  My other hand caught a second trap, which snapped shut around my wrist.  

It, too, was attached to a chain.  The two traps yanked me in different directions until the chains became taunt, snapping me up into the air for a glorious moment.  Then, I was violently slammed, crotch first, down on another trap.  Unfortunately, it also snapped shut and began pulling.

“So, how’s that going?” asked Shart.

“Not ideal,” I croaked, yanking a hand to my mouth and biting down on the caltrop to pull it free.

Thinking fast, I grabbed another trap and strained to snap it onto the chain gripping my arm.  Then, another and another.  Pretty soon, I had four traps pulling on the chain to my arm, all from different directions.  With a loud snapping sound, the chain broke apart.  That action caused the chains on my crotch and leg to pull me toward the spiked wall.

“I wondered why there were spikes there,” thought Shart, as I dug my hands into the floorboards.  My nails dredged up wood shavings as I was pulled.

“I really hate this holiday,” I cursed, rolling toward the spikes and getting the chains up over my shoulders.  Finally, I could pull properly.  I had a wellspring of power that was far greater than these two mechanical chains.  Within me burned the spark of the greatest power I’d so far discovered on Ordinal. 

●        Hiking Check, Successful!

With a mighty groan, I began swaying forward, the massive pull of the chains countered by the staggering amount of weight I could manage on my back due to the Hiking skill.  Each inch forward caused the mechanism to whine and pop.  Eventually, after the third pace, there was a snapping noise. One more pace and a second snapping noise let me pull the chains free from the wall. 

Reaching down, I gripped the trap on my crotch and began to pull.

“I think there is a mechanism here,” stated Shart, poking something.  Whatever he touched caused the trap to spring wide-open.

“Thanks,” I muttered, finding the second trap’s catch and releasing my foot.

“I’m surprised.  Normally when something hits your crotch, it's an all hands on deck sort of emergency,” stated Shart.

I knocked on my crotch, revealing a metal thunk.  “Nope, got a proper cup sewn into all of my garments.”

“Nice,” said Shart, looking around.  “So, you think the kids are still asleep?”

Suddenly, the door to the shop flew open.  HankAlvin, naked except for his heavy smith’s apron, stood there, brandishing a hammer.  “Holy shit, someone has been in here.”

“Think it's Badgelor?” asked HankAlvin’s daughter.  She was sixteen and way too old to still believe in Badgelor.  Hell, I was much older than her, and I barely believed in him.  An odd feat, considering he lived with me.

“Do I think the real Badgelor has snuck into my smithy to deliver you presents?” asked HankAlvin, peering around.  I could meld into shadow, and it was past midnight.  Those were the only reasons he hadn’t spotted me. 

“Wait, does everyone heal super quickly from traps tonight, or is it just Badgelor and me?” I asked.

“Everyone.  It's part of the Badger’s Night magic!  That way children can’t be hurt when they help their parents with the traps.  Why?” replied Shart.

“No reason,” I said, picking up a bear trap and checking the chain.  Then, I tossed it onto the hammer HankAlvin was holding.  It snapped shut, causing the weapon to fly from his hand.  He cursed and carefully stepped into the room to find it.  His daughter screamed but followed after him.

I snuck behind the two of them and got to the back.  Sneaking through as quickly and quietly as I could, I reached his daughter’s room.  On her end table was an old, badly torn doll.  I reached into my Badger’s sack and found one that looked nearly identical but was in much better shape.  I quickly switched the dolls and headed back toward the door. 

“You should just run through the catacombs,” stated Shart.

I could still hear HankAlvin and his daughter searching the workshop.  Reaching the first story, I looked down at the floor, cursing.  I had entered this very room from the catacombs that encompassed the underside of Windfall before.  Sighing, I opened the trap door that led into the undercity. 

Chapter 20:  One Final Stop

“Look, all I’m saying is that this was a much better idea,” stated Shart, as we opened up the trap door into the final house.  On my own, I would never have been able to find these paths.  It had helped tremendously to have an intangible demon who could simply fly through walls.  Shart had proved an invaluable guide, directing me to every house on my map.

The only problem with this approach was that not everyone knew where their entrance to the catacombs was.  That meant that not everyone had left them easily accessible.  I’d had to push through more than a few doors that had been used as walls by unknowing homeowners. 

“Case in point,” I muttered, looking at the small entrance to the home.  I pulled another nail made of the finest Windfallian steel out of my back.  “What is that smell?”

“It's the fireplace,” stated Shart, giving me the side eye.  “It looks like the entrance is in a secret door on the back side of the fireplace.

“I get that.  What is that smell?” I asked again, slowly. 

Shart sniffed several times.  “Well, I do smell something pungent.”

“Is it toxic?” I asked, trying to figure out how to jimmy the. . .fireplace open.

“Probably not, but it does reek.  It smells like someone being drug through the sewers,” replied Shart, staring at me.

I glared at him for a moment and tossed the nail aside.  A tiny clang sounded as it hit the ground.  “A smell from the fireplace, you little zit.”

“Oh, that.  I think that’s badger repellent,” stated Shart, sniffing obviously.  “These guys are thorough.”

I heard a click and sighed.  This did not bode well.  The small door opened into a roaring fire with a large, bubbling pot sitting on top of it.  The smell was ghastly, overpowering the heat from the fireplace to take the top spot as the least pleasant thing going on in the room. 

“We are going to have to go out a window and find another way back into the catacombs,” I growled.  The space was full of fire and stink, but it was a larger fireplace.  I thought I could probably sneak through over the top, so to speak. 

Leaping up over the bubbling kettle, I shot my arms and legs straight out and caught either side of the chimney.  The baking hot bricks that encompassed me felt like fire.  My massively improved healing went to war, trying to allow me to keep my bare hands pressed up against the boiling hot stones.  Thankfully, I didn’t plan on staying long. 

Unfortunately, as my hands struck the wall, I managed to dislodge some assorted chimney debris.  A massive pile of ash fell from above, landing on my head and blinding me.  It didn’t help that the ash was also hot.  When I started to scream, it got into my mouth and lungs, causing me to have a coughing fit.  I frantically planted myself above the pot, trying fervently to not fall into the bubbling concoction. 

A final large chunk of dislodged material fell.  It landed in the boiling badger repellent, causing a fountain of scalding goo to shoot up.  The white hot liquid splattered my groin and permeated my pants, pooling in my new cup.  I would have screamed, but I was too busy coughing. 

“My face is melting,” I finally hissed out to Shart.  “Do something.”

Shart waved his hands, and a magical field encompassed my head.  It didn’t stop the choking or the burning, but it did make it so no one could see how badly messed up I was.  “Thanks!” I hissed sarcastically. 

“You are welcome,” stated Shart.

I spit out another mouthful of ash and then contorted my body in impossible angles to slip out the front of the fireplace.  I was now standing in the living room, trailing ash and debris as I walked.  I coughed out a massive wad of what appeared to be a dead bird and found a cup of liquid.  Pouring it over my face, I was able to clear out my eyes and look around.  The first thing I clearly saw was Voan, staring at me wide-eyed holding a very ratty bear.

“Grebthar?” she asked.

“This is Voan’s house,” I thought back to Shart.

“You, once again, weren’t paying attention,” replied the demon.

“We’ve been crawling through sewers for what seems like hours!  Of course, I stopped paying attention,” I mentally shouted through gritted teeth.  I was proud of myself for keeping the yelling mental. 

Voan was bad luck, plain and simple.  Oh, she was a polite, cute kid, but if something was going to go wrong, it would be here.  I scanned the place quickly, spotting Blot’s coat hung up next to the door.  Next to it was an odd triangle with a snake wrapped around it carved into the wall.  It gave what should have been a cozy sitting room an eerie vibe.

That just left Voan, staring up at me in wonder.  I spotted a mirror and realized that Shart’s magical effect was still active, making my face look incredibly non-distinct.  I might have had my same height and build, but I didn’t look like Jim at the moment. 

There was only one possible thing to do in a scenario such as this.  I threw my shoulders back, straightened up to my maximum height, and smiled broadly.  Using my best Dalton impression, I said, “Yes, of course.  I’m helping Badgelor deliver presents!”

She squealed with glee.  “I knew it.  There really is a Badgelor!”

“Of course,” I replied.  “He’s certainly real.  He’s out delivering presents right now.  But, little girl, shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“Oh,” she said, somehow crestfallen.  She set her bear down, while I thought for a moment. 

“Voan, what’s wrong?” I asked, and her smile returned.

“You know my name!” she squealed.

“I know just about everything. You can always trust Grebthar,” I said, using the biggest movie star smile I could muster.

Voan grinned and looked over toward something, her eyes growing as wide as dinner plates.  I let my eyes follow her’s and saw two of the best bears I had made.  They were sitting exactly where her old toy had fallen.  One bear had a small ribbon on it that read Voan, the other had an identical ribbon that read EveSophia.  Shart plopped back down on my shoulder and pouted.

“I didn’t even see Badgelor,” she gasped.

“He’s a wily old badger,” I replied, looking at her fraternally.  “It's time for you to go to bed.”

“Oh, thank you, Grebthar,” she said, attaching herself to one of my legs and giving me a huge hug.  “Could you do one more thing for me?”

“Anything,” I replied to the smiling girl.

“Could you find my mother?  I asked Jim, the mayor, to do it, but he’s really bad at it.  He found my grandma instead, and then she died,” stated Voan matter-of-factly.

“I’m sure he tried his best,” I said in a clipped voice.

“Maybe,” she hesitated.  “Compared to you, his best is nothing.  I mean, you are Grebthar the Destroyer, and he is. . .Just Jim.”

“Well, I’ll see what I can do,” I replied glumly. 

“I mean, his name is Jim.  Who names someone Jim?” asked Voan.

“Maybe it was an old family name,” I suggested.

“That’s the kind of name you change,” she confidently responded. 

“Well, why don’t you get off to bed?” I said through clenched teeth, making a shooing motion.  “I have to deliver more presents.”

“Bye, Badgelor!  Bye, Grebthar,” she said.  The little girl grabbed both bears and headed up the stairs.

Shart had long ago fallen off my shoulder and was rolling on the floor laughing.  I noticed that the room was already clean from our indiscretions.

“Seriously, I would have changed the name if I realized it was going to be such a point of mockery,” I growled at Shart.  The demon recovered from his laughing fit and plopped back onto my shoulder. 

“Is the boiling liquid cooled off?” asked Shart, who was busy wiping away a tear.

“About half-way through the conversation,” I responded.  “I now have full respect for that lady who spilled hot coffee in her lap,” I grumbled.  Without my healing factor, I would have needed skin grafts.

“What lady?” asked Shart.

“On Earth,” I explained, “there was a woman that spilled coffee on her lap.  She sued the people that sold it to her, and that’s why our cups now warn us that hot coffee is hot.”

Shart scrunched up his brow and looked at me hard.  “You’re kidding me, right?”

“Nope,” I responded.

“Someone poured hot coffee on their lap and that led to warnings that hot coffee is hot?” asked Shart.

“Yep.”

“You ask for hot beverages, and they have to be served in cups warning you that they are hot?” asked the demon.  He was still looking at me in consternation.

“YES!”

“Amazing,” replied Shart.  “I mean, humans are dumb.  Earth humans are really dumb but in a tremendously astonishing fashion.  You earth humans prove every day that survival of the fittest means nothing.  The fact that you, as a race, have survived is nothing short of astounding.  How do you do it?”

I ignored that and looked around the room one last time.  Walking over to the front door, I opened it.  I hadn’t looked above the door first.  Why hadn’t I looked above the door first?  A globule of pitch fell from the ceiling and landed on my head.  I inhaled sharply.  “I just want this night to be over.”

That’s when the string landed in my other hand.  It had an odd texture, and, as I watched, it hissed and burned across my palm. . . just like a fuse.  I didn’t even have a chance to react before it reached my head.  There was a loud popping sound as the entire mass of pitch started to burn. 

Slamming both hands to my cheeks, I screamed like a ten year old boy.

Running out of the house, I spotted a four-foot tall rain barrel nearby.  It was filled to the brim with liquid.  I leapt over to it, grabbed the handles, sniffed deeply, and prayed that the liquid was water.  Doing a headstand, I completely submerged my upper half.  The water quickly smothered the flames, allowing me to focus on my next problem. 

When I had grabbed the barrel, my weight caused it to rock slightly.  That action triggered yet another trap.   A large sack of building stones fell from above, slamming into my feet and further submerging me inside the barrel.  A fair amount of water sloshed out, as my toned body proved water displacement theories were valid on Ordinal.  Bully for Archimedes.  The heavy rocks were keeping me crushed inside.  Even with my enhanced strength, I couldn’t push the jumbled sack of rocks off the barrel.  Shaking the barrel did nothing; it had been attached to the ground so sufficiently that my upside-down form couldn’t break free.

I struggled for a moment, before I realized a truth in this world.  If the world was always going to hit me as hard as it could, I would have to hit right back. 

Gathering my strength, I balanced myself on one arm and punched out with the other.  By the third punch, the side of the barrel smashed open.  A fist sized chunk of wood went flying, and the water began pouring out. 

●        Martial Arts skill increased, Journeyman.  You are now capable of learning one Martial Arts perk.

●        Perk Selected: One Punch: Expend all of your Stamina into one strike for maximum damage.  Special perk, double damage against inanimate objects.

The water glugged three times before it had lowered enough that I was able to catch my breath.  Grumbling, I repeated the process with my other arm.  At that point, the barrel’s Durability had been reduced to zero.  It fell apart, leaving me sprawled out on the ground, the massive sack of stones at my feet.  I tried to lift my head, but it was stuck to the cobblestones.

“That is a lot of pitch,” stated Shart.

“Can you get it off me?” I asked.

“It will cost you,” answered the demon.

“It's Badger’s Night,” I replied.

Shart blinked several times.  “Well, damn.”  He snapped his fingers, and the mass on top of my head suddenly became warm and sloshed off.  “That’s dirty pool, man.”

I chuckled and sat up.  “We are finished.  Where do you suppose Badgelor is?”

Something tapped me on the shoulder.  I tilted my head back, spotting the irritated little badger.  “What kept you?”

Chapter 21: An Odd Morning

Breakfast the next morning was interesting.  Have you ever had one of those moments where every time you look around, you are pretty sure everyone is looking at you?  I had a high enough Perception skill to catch everyone doing it, every time they did. 

Ashe was the worst.  She was just about one step short of gaping astonishment.  Her fawning behavior had been so bad that I’d eventually decided to go eat at the inn.  That proved to be an even bigger mistake.

I left Badgelor at the house.  He had done many more houses than I had, and he needed his beauty sleep.  When I stepped in, I expected the usual sounds of breakfast, people talking, dishes clattering.  Instead, it was deadly silent as I entered.  That, and it was much more crowded than normal.  The adults all seemed concerned, but the kids were bouncing up and down in their seats, for some reason.   

There were a few whispers spoken and fingers pointed at me as I sat down.  MaGetty brought me a bowl of porridge, and I started eating.  Fenris walked over and sat next to me.

“Good morning, Jim,” he said.

“Good morning, Fenris,” I replied, glancing at him.  He looked, disquieted.

“How was your evening?” he continued, almost as if he hadn’t been paying attention to my response.

“You know, pretty easy.  I went to bed, woke up, and got breakfast,” I said.  As I spoke, he was adjusting his hand.  I watched him roll the ring on his finger for a long moment.  It looked similar to his Ring of Vitality, but this one was larger.   “New Ring?”

“Badgelor left it for me,” he said flatly. 

“That’s nice,” I replied.

“Where was your badger last night?” asked Fenris.

I had been informed, in no uncertain terms, that our mission was of the utmost secrecy.  I was not to discuss what happened with anyone.  As I was still trying to get Badgelor to Friendly, I just shrugged.  “I don’t always pay attention to him.  Last time I saw him, he was sleeping.”

“Oh,” stated Fenris, looking down.  “Someone left gifts of unsurpassed quality at my house last night.”

“You treated your kids?” I asked with a knowing smile. 

“We were not so extravagant,” stated Fenris, swallowing hard.  “‘I didn’t even put out traps this year.”

“That’ll get you every time,” I said, helping myself to a piece of toast.  “Let me guess, your icebox was cleared out.”

“Something ate every speck of food we had,” replied the Warden.  “I didn’t even hear it enter the house.”

“That’s that wily badger for you,” I replied. 

“Check this out,” said JoeClarence, standing near his father and pulling out a dagger.  It wasn’t the dagger I’d given him so long ago.  This one was magically similar to the one I’d made for Jarra the Healer but I’d used a different kind of dagger for the base.

“Oh, a magic dagger,” I said.

His eyes grew even wider, “Really?  It’s magic?”

Fenris’ eyes bulged.  “Wait, is that a Dagger of Sparking, like Jarra the Healer has?”

JoeClarence looked all over the weapon, finally spotting the small engraved word of power that activated it.  “Bik!” Suddenly, a small flame shot out of the tip. 

That had unfortunately gathered the attention of everyone else in the inn.  They all began examining their new toys.  Aside from the extremely high quality of the goods, none of them were overtly magical.  While they were all preoccupied, I decided it was time to skedaddle.  I snuck out the front door without anyone paying the least bit of attention to me.

●        Stealth rank up, Journeyman

●        Perk Selected: Hide in Plain Sight.  You may use the slightest opportunity to get yourself out of a situation.

I didn’t mind that Badgelor had rifled through all my projects for gifts.  Most of them were of little use to me, but I could imagine they would be useful to other people.  Jarra had found the prototype of the dagger to be very helpful to her, and I imagined JoeClarence would have a similar experience. 

I was mildly upset that JoeClarence wasn’t more broken up over the dagger I had given him being stolen.  Then again, I had just handed him the weapon one day.  The new dagger was of much finer make and more suited to his frame, anyway. 

Walking past HankAlvin’s shop, I spotted him and his wife disarming the few remaining traps in the front room.  I decided to test my luck and poked my head in.  “Any luck last night?”

“Not like I was hoping,” stated HankAlvin.  “Badgelor snuck in here and got caught up in the traps, but he broke free.  He managed to leave my daughter a Master-Crafted Doll.”

“That’s nice,” I replied, glad that he hadn’t seen me after all.

“No, you don’t understand,”  stated HankAlvin.  “I mean it's actually Master-Crafted.  I could sell it in Narwal for several gold.”

“Really?” I responded.  I hadn’t actually bothered to check how much a doll was worth.  I figured it was worth, at most, a few silver.  Several gold was well outside my expectations.  “Are you going to?”

“Of course not,” stated HankAlvin scandalized.  “Badgelor actually left her a present.  Took her old doll to be with her little sister, I suspect.”

I paused at that.  I knew Badgelor stole one item and replaced it with another.  I hadn’t really analyzed what he did with the old, broken toys.  “Why do you think that?”

“Well, Badgelor always takes an item and gives it to whoever needs it the most.  I think that would be with RoseEleanor, wherever she is.”  HankAlvin’s broad shoulders slumped slightly, and his eyes became bright.  If you were looking at the town from the outside, you would probably miss the fact that everyone here was a refugee.  Most families had lost someone, and most of the missing were never going to be found.

Nodding sadly, I left HankAlvin to his thoughts and continued walking toward my home.  Everyone was going to gather there just before noon, so I had plenty of time to think. 

“It's good to be Santa,” I said, as I entered my house. 

I looked around the place.  The decorations were odd, except for the little tree.  The house was quiet, entirely too quiet for the holidays.  Looking over to the fireplace, I saw several little cups of caltrops and pitch, all hung with care. 

“It's too quiet here,” I said to no one, walking up to my workshop.  I had a few hours alone, and I wanted to try crafting a new weapon before we left for the dungeon.

Chapter 22: For Wind and Windfall

Badgelor bumbled his way into the workshop several hours later.  “Some of us were trying to sleep, you know.”

I side-eyed him but continued pounding on the blade.  Finally, after a few last hits, the <system> decided I was done with it. 

●        Quick Shortsword, Critical Success.  Base damage 2-7, 120/120 durability.

○        Quick Strikes cost 25% less stamina to use.

Holding it firmly, I gave a few practice swings.  I could really feel the weight of the blade as I did so.  It was perfect.  I usually fought with a single weapon because I needed my other hand free but there were points where having a shorter blade would have been useful.  Glancing over at Badgelor, I said, “This is as good as I can do without enchanting it.”

“So enchant it,” stated the badger.

I frowned.  “I only know elemental runes.  They won’t improve the sword over what I can already do with my Mage class.”

“You need to hire an Enchanter,” stated Badgelor, yawning expansively.

That was true, but I had no idea where to find one.  Narwal had one, but the jerk didn’t want to move or share his secrets.  He also cheated and wrote his runes in an unusual script that only worked on the items he produced.  That made it impossible for me to just copy them. 

“Maybe I’ll find one in the dungeon,” I said, causing the badger to frown.  That was unlikely, as no one had entered the dungeon in hundreds of years. 

Badgelor’s head snapped around as he scented something.  Right after, I heard the pitter-patter of feet on a creaky stair in the hall.  It was finally time.  I opened the door just as Ashe reached out to knock.  Her face was bright from tears, and, as I looked at her, I saw a fresh round begin to form in her eyes.

“Please keep them safe,” she said, standing aside.  She meant Dalton and Zorlando, but I couldn’t tell which one mattered more to her at the moment. 

I nodded and walked down the stairs.  I had already put on my armor.  Before breakfast, my pack of supplies had been taken to be loaded onto a cart.  As I reached the entrance, I turned, taking a long look around.  Deep down I knew that this was the last time I was going to see this place for a while. 

“I’ll take down the tree when I get back,” I said and stepped outside.

It seemed that everyone in Windfall had come to see us off.  The street was unnecessarily wide, especially considering Ordinal was a place where cars had not been invented.  It was the largest single street in the entire town, and, at this moment, it was jam packed.  Everyone in the village was here to send the adventurer’s off with glad tidings and well-wishes.  I felt a wellspring of pride in me as they shouted and cheered.

Fenris was first in line, looking resplendent in his newest armor.  It was a reinforced breastplate that seemed to walk the line between medium and heavy armor.  His new shield, complete with the Velociraptor embossing, looked quite imposing.  His new Ring of Vitality shone on his fist. The normally dour man was almost smiling. 

A party ended when the party leader lost consciousness, so the party I had formed yesterday had disbanded.  That just meant I’d need to reform it.  I placed my hand on his shoulder and extended a party invite, “For Wind and Windfall.”  He cracked a smile and accepted my invite.

I didn’t make it a single pace away, before AvaSophia rushed up to him with their kids.  This was as much their moment as it was his, and the look of hero worship from JoeClarence was breathtaking for a father.  Even Kappa looked proud.  He also looked happy that he wasn’t going into the dungeon.  I waggled my eyebrow at him.

“No way in hell,” replied the affronted Warg, as he moved behind JoeClarence.  “I need to protect the house until Fenris returns.”  JoeClarence, who couldn’t understand Warg at all, simply petted Kappa while smiling at his father.

Second was Sir Dalton, standing firm in his plate armor.  It sported a large fortress embossed onto his chest.  That was apparently a symbol for General Narwal.  Dalton was a tower of a man, looking every bit the Knight that he was.  His massive two-handed sword crackled with lightning, even in its specially made sheath.

I placed my hand on his shoulder and extended an invite, “For Wind and Windfall.”  He pretty much ignored me, until the crowd cheered.  Then, Sir Dalton beamed, glancing over at nine of his daughters.  All were shifting between concerned and absolutely distraught.  Rose was ugly crying. I caught sight of Ashe in one of my upstairs windows.  She appeared to be far worse than any of her sisters. 

Next was SueLeeta.  Seeing what was going down, she’d pulled up her Hunter’s hood and had her cloak billowing out behind her.  Inside that was her well-crafted leather armor, her fighting kind instead of her traveling gear.  It was still the most breast-squashing armor I had ever seen.  Cat Thirty Two was even getting in on the act.  The feline looked positively fierce as I placed my hand on her summoner’s shoulder.

“For Wind and Windfall,” I said.  SueLeeta broke character, grinning.

“You need a better slogan,” she said. 

Standing next to her was Glorious Robert.  I had never seen him fully decked out, and it caught me by surprise.  The Fisherman gave Sir Dalton a run for his money.  His heavy armor was a faint blue in color and adorned with several items I realized were commonly used on ships. 

Noticing my look, Glorious Robert grinned, “Master at Arms, subclass perk.  Makes anything I wield a weapon,” he said confidently.  Many of those implements were walking a fine line toward weaponry already.  I suspected Glorious Robert would never be without something to kill someone with. 

I placed my hand on his shoulder, but hadn’t opened my mouth to say anything.  I figured that Glorious Robert wasn’t one for the ceremony.  He frowned at that.

“For Wind and Windfall?” I said.

“FOR WIND AND WINDFALL,” he bellowed back, directly into my face.  The crowd cheered.  “Don’t try to cheap out on me, ya skeezer.  I live here, too.”

Slightly deaf, I walked over to Bashara.  She was wearing what appeared to be common robes.  Looks could be deceiving, though.  I activated my Journeyman Mana Control skill and threw a few points of Mana at Bashara.  The action caused her outfit to begin to shimmer. It was easier now than the last time I’d tried this.  It seemed like just yesterday I’d attempted the skill at the Wizard’s Lock.  I spotted several arcane markings throughout the garment and realized it was heavily enchanted.  Her staff was floating next to her in a far more obvious display of her power.

I pressed my hand on her shoulder, “For Wind and Windfall.”  She rolled her eyes.

Next was Zorlando.  His equipment was nice but not as well-crafted or powerful as everyone else's.  However, he compensated by rigorously maintaining it.  Its golden breastplate shimmered in the sunlight.  His own sword and shield were positioned comfortably on his body, and he held himself like an old campaigner ready to go to battle.  In his eyes, I could see a small aspect of wonder and fear. 

The wonder came from going into the dungeon, no doubt, but I didn’t recognize the fear.  For an instant, I questioned where my confident, calculating Mercenary Captain had gone.  Then, I tracked where his eyes were looking.  They were trained on an upstairs window of my home.  The same window I knew Ashe was at.  I caught sight of a single puffy eye peering at Zorlando through the drapes. 

A hush went over the crowd as I placed my hand on his shoulder, “For Wind and Windfall.”

“For Wind and Windfall,” screamed the crowd.  Zorlando going was more real to them, and I understood why.  The rest of us were adventurers, Chosen, if you wanted to call us that.  Going into dungeons is what adventurers did.  Zorlando was just a man, and normal men did not go into dungeons willingly. It was even more rare for a normal person to be invited into a party that was going into a dungeon.  I had used my second to last slot on Zorlando, meaning he got a share of the experience and rewards.

I was about to turn when someone shoved their way through the crowd and ran to stand next to Zorlando.  I started to reprimand the trooper, until I saw her name tag. 

●        Jarra the Healer, Combat Medic

●        HP 200/200

●        Stamina: 140/140

●        Mana: 20/20

I glanced over to Zorlando and realized my mistake.  A Professional got their buffs mainly from their skills and equipment, rather than from perks.  Jarra the Healer, in her civies, didn’t have 200 Hit Points.  Jarra the Combat Medic, decked out in her armor, did.

I raised an eyebrow, and she flipped up her visor, beaming at me.  That’s when I heard AvaSophia inhale sharply.  Looking over Jarra, I saw the issue.  She was wearing a Ring of Vitality that could only have been Fenris’ previous one.  Badgelor had stolen the old one and given it to the person who needed it the most. 

“Request permission to accompany SueLeeta,” she stated in a confident voice. 

I glanced over to SueLeeta.  The Hunter nodded proudly. 

“Granted, Combat Medic,” I said.  Jarra marched over to stand behind SueLeeta, still beaming.  Bashara looked like someone had just taken a dump in her robes.  Thankfully, the Wizard knew better than to question Jarra’s presence while we were amongst every citizen of Windfall.

“We go now to the dungeon, a place of terrible danger and great opportunity!” I yelled.  “When we return, we shall tell you of its great mysteries.”

“For Wind and Windfall,” someone yelled, and the rest of the crowd followed.  The shouting was so loud that I couldn’t hear myself think.  Glancing over to OttoSherman, who was sitting on our ox-pulled wagon, I signaled for our single wagon to move.

The last sight the gathered crowd would see was their heroes marching off into the noonday sun.

Chapter 23: The March to Dungeon

Or, so I thought.

“Why did everyone come?” I grumbled, as children dashed past me.  They were playing some weird form of tag.  The child that was ‘it’ pretended to be a dog while all the other children pretended to be badgers.

“What else are they going to do?  It's a holiday,” yawned Badgelor. 

“You mortals find just about any old thing interesting,” said Shart condescendingly.  “You should have known that a dungeon run to a ruined castle was something everyone would want to see.”

“Your people celebrated a caravan leaving,” grumbled Badgelor.

I sighed, half-wishing I could get on the wagon.  Alas, there was no room.  OttoSherman had collected a bevy of beauties to sit with him on the benches.  I was pretty sure our stuff was being used for seating in the rear, too, including all my rations.

“Hope you like the taste of ass-flavored hardtack,” chuckled Shart.

“There’s ass-flavored hardtack?” questioned Badgelor, smacking his lips. 

Sir Dalton rode up to me on his massive charger.  With him on his horse and me on foot, it looked very much like he was leading the procession.  I was positive that was the normally obtuse man’s intent. 

“Any chance you would let me ride?” I asked, and he chuckled.

“Hardly!  You have all that Hiking, and I’d hate for you to lose the opportunity to improve your skills,” replied Dalton.

“I don’t think your horse is going to be much use in the dungeon,” I mentioned.

“No, but I also have the Hiking skill.  It is incredibly useful,” stated Sir Dalton.  We walked a few moments in companionable silence before the Knight spoke again.  “Jim, I was wondering if you might help me dissuade Jarra the Healer from accompanying us into the dungeon.”

“She has enough Hit Points,” I stated casually.

“It's not that.  It's just that she’s a. . .” started Sir Dalton.

“Woman?” I asked.

Sir Dalton’s face contorted before he began to laugh.  It was so bad, he nearly fell from his saddle.  “For all your faults, you have a wicked sense of humor.  Imagine telling SueLeeta she couldn’t do something because she was a woman. “ He wiped his eyes with his fingers.

Ordinal, if nothing else, believed in the equality of the sexes.

“No,” continued Dalton, still snorting.  “She’s a co. . .er, Professional Healer, or Combat Medic.  They have no place in a dungeon.”

“Zorlando is coming,” I said.

Sir Dalton paused.  His thought pattern had not kicked in with the knowledge that Zorlando and Jarra were both Professionals.  If one was to be removed from the party, so would the other.  “Well, I owe Zorlando.  I shall not be able to honorably request he remain outside.  However, Jarra the Healer is important to the town.”

“Zorlando is the main trainer for our forces and the second-in-command for all of Windfall’s armies.  I’d argue that he’s more important to the town than she is,” I replied.  “I just wouldn’t argue it to Jarra the Healer’s face.”

Sir Dalton argued back, “But she is not part of the party.  She is in additional danger.”

“We will all be in danger, Sir Dalton,” I said calmly.  “If you honestly feel that she needs to be removed, go talk to her and SueLeeta.  Ask Jarra the Healer to stay behind.  She’s about Margwal’s age. How would you talk your daughter out of doing something she really wanted to do?”

Sir Dalton’s eyes had become hopeful when I started talking.  By the time I reminded him of his daughter, they had turned positively downcast.  “She would just do it anyway, no matter what I said,” he sighed.  “She would at least feel guilty, though, so I would get a pie out of it.” 

Dalton was a brave man, just not a very bright one.  However, there is stupid, and then there is the level of stupid talking to the ladies would be.  Telling the girl you were courting that she had to stay behind while the girl that was courting you watched was beyond what even Dalton could manage.

“They are squishy, support types anyway,” I said, “My plan is to keep them in the back at all times.  If you need to protect the ladies, then feel free to do so.  Neither of them are melee types like us.”

That seemed to calm him down somewhat.  “I shall tell her now that I will be her bodyguard whilst in the dungeon!”

“Isn’t she sort of SueLeeta’s bodyguard?” I asked.

“Technically, yes, I suppose so.  I know!  I’ll offer to protect SueLeeta,” concluded Dalton, because guarding the attractive woman that wants you instead of the attractive woman you want was such a great idea. 

“That works,” I replied.  “SueLeeta won’t mind keeping you extra close.”

Sir Dalton’s face paled.  “Jim, I believe her intentions on me are less than noble.”

That was an understatement.  “I thought you and she had been dating?” I asked.

“Absolutely not,” replied the Knight.  “I have just been taking her out to eat at restaurants, going on long walks through the town’s parks, and I have been giving her small gifts to help her hunt.”

“Ah, good point,” I said, then continued, “Out of curiosity, how would you date a woman?”

“I haven’t dated a woman in some time.  Most of my prospects are scared off by the thought of helping me raise my daughters,” replied Sir Dalton.  “If I remember correctly, I would journey with a lady to a place where food was served or take them on meandering walks to nowhere.  Also, giving them small gifts to show my affection was one of my favorite tricks.”

We continued walking for a good minute as Sir Dalton, valiant warrior, considered that.  I imagined a very slow gerbil pulling his fat furry ass off his comfy bed, heading to his little gerbil wheel, and taking painfully slow steps to try and make it move.

“Oh, no,” muttered the Knight.  He turned his horse to walk back further into the crowd.

“That should be fun,” stated Shart.

“Aren’t you concerned Bashara will see you?” I asked.

“Which one is she again, the Wizard?  It was so much easier to keep track of you meat sacks when it was just you.  Anyway, Badgelor has been following her and growling the entire time.  Look,” Shart pointed, “She’s trying unsuccessfully to get around him to come see you.  She probably just wants to bitch about what’s her face coming.” 

I was actually grateful to Badgelor.  I still had serious misgivings on bringing Bashara into the dungeon.  Having her try something now would probably lead me to kick her out of the party.  Then again, that would mean leaving her in Windfall with no adventurers to serve as a counterbalance to whatever her next scheme was.  I had also been advised numerous times that a Wizard was required, so acting on impulse right now could tank the whole quest.

“Time to test my new level of the Administration skill and try some remote management,” I thought and opened up the town interface.  I could see inside the empty Town Hall but not much else.  I tried to activate the build menus, but they wouldn’t work.  I cycled through everything, discovering that most of my options were greyed out. 

“Well, this is less than impressive,” I stated, finally giving up.

“You are supposed to be using your staff to handle this stuff,” replied Shart.  “You know, Tar and Boots.” 

I stared at him for a moment.  “Do you mean Mar and Blots?” I asked.

“If you say so,” the demon responded. 

“How do you not know their names?”

“Why would their names matter to me?” Shart asked.

I sighed.  “I guess they don’t.  Anyway, I can’t exactly contact them.”

“You just need to talk into the room,” stated Shart.

“Hello,” I spoke remotely.  There was no response.  I flicked back over to Shart.  “That didn’t seem to work.”

“You need to be louder than that,” he explained.

“So, I’m trying to magically communicate with them, and I should yell?” I began.

“No,” growled the demon.

“One Magical Yell, coming up,” I replied.  Mentally shouting, “Blots, Mar, get in here!”

Within moments, my sense of the main room of the Town Hall was filled with my two scrambling staff members.  Blots looked around everywhere.  Mar was far too confused to do much more than blankly stare.

“Good,” I continued, causing both men to look toward the podium in the main room.  That was the place I had claimed first in Windfall.  That action had ultimately claimed the entire city.  As the focal point of the structure, the dais was apparently my means of communication with them.

“Yes?” ventured Blots.

“Good, my Remote Management works perfectly,” I stated. 

Mar rolled his eyes.  “Yes, we can communicate with you.  How can we help you, Sir?”

“How are the preparations for the Adventurer’s Guild going?” I asked.  Both men looked at each other. 

“The current status is that there is no update to the status,” stated Mar.  “I still need the dungeon heart shard, the Log book, and a license.”

“And a Guild Master,” stated Blots.

“Yes, one of those as well,” droned on Mar.  “When the castle is done, you’ll get the license. When you finish the dungeon and touch the Dungeon Core, you’ll get the dungeon heart shard.  Then, we’ll still need at least an Expert Scribe to write the Log book.”

“And a Guild Master,” stated Blots.

“Yes, some older adventurer who wants to retire and lead a bunch of young adventurers through the ropes,” continued Mar. 

“Any chance we could hire the Expert Scribe or Guild Master through the trade network?” I asked Blots. 

He responded by groaning.  “Not with the town’s current reputation.”

It was my turn to groan as I flipped over to the town Reputation meter. 

●        Windfall:  Rank 1, Locally Known.  Locally, your town is known to the nearby areas as a minor backwater.

○        Legendary Reputation(inactive): In the Past, Windfall was known as the seat of Grebthar and the valley of adventurers.

“What reputation would we need to attract Expert Scribes?” I asked, fearing the answer.

“At least Rank 3, Well Known, possibly Rank 4, Internationally Known.  The higher the rank, the less exorbitant rate you have to pay them to come here,” stated Blots. 

“What about the legendary reputation?” I asked.

“It is inactive,” replied Blots sadly.  “If it was active, we’d already be at rank 5 or 6.  In order to activate it, we’d need to have the castle fully repaired and a bunch of adventurers in the valley.  Right now, it's putting the cart before the horse.  ”

That was just like any other city building game I could think of.  After we got the Adventurer’s Guild built, we could build another one easy peasy.  It's just that you only needed the one to get started, and it was going to be an ordeal. 

“Maybe I could find the Scribe or the Guild Master personally?” I suggested.

“The Expert Scribe might be easier than raising the town reputation.  They would just require you to develop enough of a personal reputation with them so they would willingly come to the city,” stated Mar, “Or, you know, you could get lucky with a refugee.”

“Or you could figure out Scribery yourself,” stated Blots.  My reputation for learning skills was a bit of a hassle. 

“Scribery?” I asked.  There had to be a better name for it than that.

“Yes, I could show you the basics.  As an adventurer, you’d pick it up quickly,” replied Blots.  That was true, but a skill like Scribe would still take me a few days of dedicated practice to get up to the Journeyman level.  That was if I was lucky.  The big problem was a lack of scribing equipment.  Glorious Robert was bringing in plenty of squid, meaning we did have some inks.  However, we lacked the facilities to make the higher quality parchment that an Expert Scribe would need to make the log book in the first place. 

I’d checked with Shart.  A high-level Scribe could not only craft the specialized inks required to write higher level documents, they could also craft the paper that would be necessary to actually make the books.  Then they would have to bind them, and that too would take considerable effort.  In total, this log book was going to be a significant undertaking for an Expert Scribe, but it should be possible with the town’s resources behind them. 

I just needed to find the Expert Scribe.

“Well, keep your eyes open for either.  I’ll try to get the dungeon heart shard without dying horribly,” I stated.

“Good luck,” stated Blots.

“You’ll need it,” muttered Mar under his breath.  I disliked Mar.

I continued walking for a few more moments in silence as I considered my options.  The town was located in a good spot within the valley, but we needed to get Windfall Castle restored.  Until then, everything was in stasis. 

Thankfully, the stream of refugees had dwindled.  I attributed that to the fact that everyone capable of making it through the Western Gate Fortress before HarCharles and TimSimons began fighting had already done so.  I glanced to the east, mentally picturing the equally massive Gate of Light Feather.  The Eastern Gate Fortress’ name was ostentatious enough, but I was certain there was a disappointingly stupid reason for it. 

“Why is the Western Gate Fortress just named after what and where it is?  Why is the Eastern Gate Fortress named so poetically?” I asked Shart.

“Falcon Crest,” stated Badgelor, as he wandered back over to me.  “Those buggers are all about talking to the gods, and the gods like to do things fancy.“

“Did they actually build it or something?” I asked.

“Back in Grebthar’s day, more than half the population of this valley were from Falcon Crest. They were all trying to escape the machinations of the political establishment,” explained Shart.

“Machinations?” I asked.

“The ruling families kill each other a lot,” growled Badgelor.  “Then, they have a little war.  A bunch of people die, and they take a break for a few years.”

“They are my favorite human kingdom on Ordinal,” grinned Shart.  Badgelor used that moment to climb my leg.

“Finished with Bashara?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder.  She was at the rear of the column now and seemed to be finding great mirth in Sir Dalton conversing with SueLeeta and Jarra.  Both women had their arms folded underneath their breasts, very stern expressions on their faces. 

SueLeeta ruined it by glancing at Sir Dalton’s shoulders whenever he turned his head away.  He did this frequently, as he appeared to be trying to dig himself out of whatever hole he’d started down. 

“Sounds terrible,” I said, returning to the conversation.  I was really at a loss about gods on Ordinal.  They were at least ‘little g’ gods, none of whom caused a huge existential crisis for little old me.  It was sort of like learning about the Greek gods, the exception being that the ones in Falcon Crest actually could grant powers.  

“So. . .the Golf Gate,” I said, appreciating the name, “Think we could play through it?”

“Golf gate?” asked Shart.

“Gate of Light Feather,” I grinned.  “G-O-L-F.”

“I don’t think there will be any playing at all.  The last vestiges of the trolls are there,” said Shart.

“Just one more bogey,” I said.  “I’m sure it will be rough, but we can find the sweet spot.”

“I sure hope so,” stated Shart.

“With all our iron, I bet we can putter through this round and drive past them!” I continued. 

Badgelor chuckled and put his head down to go to sleep.  After a few more paces, he began. . . loudly snoring?  It was like a small buzz saw that had a cat thrown against its blade. 

“How dangerous are dungeons, really?” I asked Shart as we continued.

“Anywhere from easy to very dangerous,” replied the demon.  “It all depends on how powerful the Dungeon Core is, and how long it's been between visits.”

“This is a starter zone.  I would assume the dungeon isn’t that dangerous.  You’re saying that if the dungeon has not been visited in a very long time, it could be more dangerous?” I asked.

“Maybe, to a point.  The dungeon will continue to expand in power as it digests the energies it collected from dead adventurers,” said Shart.  “After all energy has been consumed, it will degrade down to its natural level. ”

“And it's been awhile since anyone has been here,” I said.

“It could either be extremely dangerous or super easy,” said the demon.  “I’m hoping it will be enough of a challenge for your party.”

“So, the Dungeon Core is really going to boost my power level?” I asked.  “How many dungeons are there?  If we have to keep grabbing Dungeon Cores, this has the potential to become very perilous.”

“You might gain some skill levels in the dungeon, which would be nothing to sneeze at.  You will gain a perk from a Dungeon Core.  That will be one of the easiest things you could still do to significantly increase your personal power,” said Shart, before giving me the side-eye.  “However, I’m kind of hoping that you’ll see how bad this could get and voluntarily hop on through the Demon Door.”

“How bad what could get? I asked, “The dungeon, the war, or life on Ordinal?”

“Yes,” replied Shart.

“I highly doubt I’ll voluntarily wander in there,” I said.  “You know, maybe you guys could get a second human soul and make him a new hero.  Then, I would be like Merlin for you.”

“Yeah, no, it would be nice, but it's kind of challenging to get any souls from Earth.  A repeat is not expected for at least another thousand years.”

“That’s unfortunate,” I said, thinking.  “So, when was Windfall’s castle destroyed?”

“Around 800 years ago,” replied Shart. 

“During the war with the Dark Overlord?” I asked.

“Maybe at the tail end of it,” replied Shart.  “I don’t have access to all the files down here.  If you were thinking Grebthar and the Dark Overlord were battling in the valley, you can stop.  It seems highly unlikely.  More likely is that the minions of the Dark Overlord were still active for a time after his fall, before they got completely stamped out.”

“His minions?” I asked.

“His army.  He had some strange name for it that no one could pronounce.  They were just referred to as the Dark Overlord’s Wind,” replied Shart.

“That doesn’t sound very scary,” I said.

“They were a divine gale that torn the world apart,” replied Shart.  “At least, I think they were.”

“You don’t have your files.  How solid is your memory?” I asked.  “Are you just guessing?”

“The castle was only torn down.  The Dark Overlord had the power to banish things into other dimensions.  If he’d fought there, at least some of the castle would have been annihilated.  Too much of its ruins remained,” replied Shart.

I considered that.  When we’d tried to rebuild the castle, some of the materials had been missing.  The missing pieces were a realistic amount for a tribe of trolls to move over the course of a few months, though.  We had found a significant amount of those materials.  So much that I would have wagered that the percentage missing from the castle overall was in the low single digits.

“So, who were the Dark Overlord’s minions?” I asked.

“You know, I think I saw a book on your bookshelf about the War with the Dark Overlord,” replied Shart.  “I hear books are excellent sources of knowledge.” 

“Yeah, but why would I deprive you of the chance to hear your own self-righteous voice? You know you love explaining things to me in that ‘my companion is an idiot’ tone,” I responded. 

Shart relented, smirking at me slightly as he began.  “Well, let’s see, the Dark Overlord had a horde of evil minions, all set on conquering the world.  There was the Great Necromancer, the Walker of Siers, and TriBlade.  They were the two commanders in the field.”

“Let me guess, TriBlade used three swords?” I chuckled.

“He only had one arm.  He used the deadly TriBlade.  It was a force to be reckoned with,” said Shart.

“What about the other one?  The Walker?” I asked.

“He mainly complained about the choices the Dark Overlord made,” answered Shart.

“Why did the Dark Overlord keep him around then?  It seems like he would want to have yes-men around him,” I asked, considering some of the more powerful people I knew.  Some people liked to surround themselves with agreeable people.  Others liked to surround themselves with competent people.  Some liked to have at least one person who would complain about everything, just to hear of trouble first hand.  “What, did you think the Walker had blackmail information?” asked Shart honestly.

“No, I don’t suppose,” I started, but Shart cut me off.

“The Walker of Siers was an all-powerful Necromancer, Dum Dum.  He could get away with nearly anything, because he was capable of using extremely powerful Death magic,” yelled Shart.  “Seriously, do you not have powerful bearded men who, due to their skills, can get away with saying pretty much anything they want, despite a total lack of social graces?”“Yes, they work in IT,” I said glumly.  “They speak the language of Cobol.  It is an ancient and arcane language, seeped in a power few mortals can comprehend.”

“Do they wear funny hats,?” asked Badgelor, snorting himself awake.

“Some do.  On a set date and time they will journey to a field wearing strange hats and pants. They will walk around a while, swinging irons to knock small balls into holes and muttering oaths to the almighty, should they fail,” I said confidently.

“I thought your world didn’t have magic?” inquired Shart curiously.

“Some say the entire ritual is very magical,” I said.  “For most of my youth, they let a tiger play.  He won a great many games.”

“Could a badger play?” asked Badgelor, equally curious.  “I’m sure I could make a better hash of it than some stupid tiger.”

“The tiger had been training to play ever since he was a cub,” I said, looking over at Badgelor. 

“Knocking balls into holes with iron sounds easy,” replied Badgelor.  ‘There is a long history of animals being successful at the game.  There was a golden bear who played when I was a wee child,” I grinned.  “So, an angry badger would probably do just fine.”

“What about me?” whined Shart.

“No, sorry.  To my recollection, no large zits ever played,” I commented.

Badgelor laughed.  Shart harrumphed but still continued his history lesson. 

“Next,  the Dark Overlord had the Great Dragon Omnislaughter.  His breath weapon was pure living Plasma.  That’s one of the advanced energy types, so it was next to impossible to block,” stated Shart.

“Living Plasma?” I asked.

“BioPlasma would be the more modern name for it,” replied the demon.  “Normally, plasma is created by combining an Aeromancy rune and a Flameology rune.  BioPlasma is a combination of a Biological Aeromancy rune and a Flameology rune.”

“That sounds awesome!  Can I learn that?” I asked.

“It's a very high-level skill.  You’d need to have a very high degree of skill in both spell types and the ability to control your Mana to at least Master level.  When you combine two kinds of magic, they are normally incompatible and cause feedback.  However, if you are supremely skilled, you can merge the two,” replied Shart.  “Understand that when I say ‘you’, I don’t mean you personally, Dum Dum.  You would almost certainly die if you attempted it.  I was using the word ‘you’ in a much more generalized capacity.’  He grinned at me, looking me up and down.  “If you did attempt it, you’d blow your arms off, at the very least.”

“And that would be inconvenient for you,” I said.  “Were there any others?”

“Only the Dark Overlord’s arbiter and assassin.  She was the most deadly of them all,” replied Shart.  “She was so good at her job, most of the world doesn’t even know she existed.”

“But you do, of course,” I replied.

“Of course.”

I raised an eyebrow.  “Even without your files here?”

“I remember good work when I read about it.” Shart responded.

“The assassin did good work?” I asked.

“She was. . .very creative.  From what I have read, she seems to be the most interesting of all the people to have existed on Ordinal.”

“Oh, I see.  You would admire a professional murderer.  It’s so obvious,” I sighed, rolling my eyes.  “So, get on with it.  Don’t make me ask you her name,” I grumbled.

“Let me properly finish my story.  She sat on a throne of Black Quartz, a throne that previously belonged to a long dead god.  From her throne, she judged those that came before her.  She was known as the Sphinx.”

“I thought you said that a Sphinx was a creature,” I said.

“She had a name, but her title was Sphinx of the Black Quartz,” grumbled Shart.  “You ruined my story.”

“Well, I’m guessing all of them are long dead, now” I said.

“Unless they figured out the trick to immortality,” replied the demon.

Chapter 24: The Phoenix Moon Beckons

“The castle is shaping up nicely,” said Fenris, as we continued walking through the hallway of the castle toward the dungeon door.  With the band working its magic and the construction teams pitching in, the castle was. . .still nowhere near being done.  They had finished enough of the first floor that we didn’t have to climb over anything to get into the dungeon, though.  This part of the castle was ‘done’, so there were no stray blocks of stone flying around in all directions.  It was a good thing; this could have been dangerous if not for that

“I want my lute back,” grumbled SueLeeta, as we continued walking.  The crowd that had followed us out of Windfall had finally said goodbye.  Most of the villagers headed back to the village.  Those that remained were planning on resuming work on the castle. 

“You mean your lyre?” asked Fenris, walking past us in the opposite direction.  SueLeeta stuck her tongue out at him as the Warden began to gather our supplies from the back of the wagon. 

“Is it a lute or a lyre?” I asked. 

“Honestly, I’m not sure,” SueLeeta replied.  “A lute usually has a body under the neck where the strings pass.  It gives you a richer sound.  A lyre is basically just naked strings.  My lute has a bit of a body, but not as much as you’d expect for a typical lute.  The neck has more strings than a lute, too, making it sound more like a lyre.  It's a magical instrument.  I don’t really care what it is.  I just want it back.  I’ll be glad when the castle is finished, and it is returned.”

“Oh,” I said softly, a bit disappointed.  It wasn’t entirely them sending us off.  There were still between fifty and 100 Windfallians at the castle on an average day.  Even the holiday hadn’t stopped the need for the Militia to protect the place. 

Jarra the Healer looked determined and was trying to keep pace with SueLeeta.  SueLeeta was a bit taller than Jarra and walked with a striding step that made keeping up a bit of a challenge.  Thankfully for Jarra, she was no slouch in the determination department.

Bashara waltzed past me, grinning.  “It's beginning to look civilized.”  Badgelor hopped off my shoulder and started following her, growling slightly.  I still didn’t like that Bashara was coming.  I didn’t like it at all, but she was probably necessary.  She better be necessary.  She had, however, betrayed Badgelor, and there would be a reckoning for that.  I was willing to bet she would not enjoy such a reckoning.  If it wasn’t for the fact that Badgelor was likewise convinced she was needed to help him find Charles, I doubted I could have talked the little monster into letting her come.

The hallway opened into the same room that the Dungeon Door was located.  However, the room had been repaired.  Torches were affixed to the walls, illuminating the place nicely.  The glyphs on the floor were glowing far more impressively than when I’d last been here as well.

Of course, the door was still shut.

“I was under the impression the door was going to be open,” said Sir Dalton.  He was, unsurprisingly, standing closest to the door.  He wanted to be the first one in.

Glancing at my character sheet, I saw I was under the effects of the buff:

●        Phoenix Moon: You are now subject to the spirit of the Phoenix Moon.  May your spirit be ever vigilant.

“That’s cryptic,” I said, considering the buff’s wording.  “Bashara, magic the door open.”  I completed the order with an airy finger wave that made her frown at me.  She did not look cute. 

She grumbled at me, the door, Sir Dalton, back at me, and then spent a good minute frowning at the door.  “It should be open,” she said finally. 

“Dalton, she says it should be open,” I said.

There was a loud zapping noise before a smoking Dalton stepped away from the door.  “She is in error.  The door is still closed and warded.”

“Sir Dalton says-” I began.

“I understand that,” hissed Bashara.  Her eyes flicked blue and amber as she looked at the runes.  “It says that the door WILL open when the Phoenix Moon rises and shines down.  It says WILL, not might.”

I glanced over at the burning duck that was Ordinal’s version of a phoenix.  Then, I looked above it.  “Sir Dalton, stand over there,” I directed.  The big man gave me an odd look but did as I said.  I strolled over to him and leapt onto his shoulders, reaching the ceiling.

He made an odd choking sound.  “I am not furniture!”

“Hush, overly talkative ladder,” I said, looking at the ceiling for anything unusual.  I would have missed it except for my Perception.  Taking my dagger, I slid the weapon across the roof.  The sharp metal scarred a small piece of stone directly over the doomed duck.

“Badgelor,” I called.  The badger rushed across the floor, climbed up Sir Dalton’s front, spent a glorious moment with his furry little butt pressed up against Sir Dalton’s face, then climbed up me to rest on my shoulder.

“What?” he asked.

“Dig until you find the moon,” I said, grabbing him from behind and pressing him against the ceiling.  He would usually have protested, but his desire to kill Charles had overcome his cantankerous streak.   

His front claws buried themselves in the stone, but his back claws scratched against a magically enchanted surface with an awful nails-on-chalkboard sound.  With me holding him in position, he was able to dig upward, causing an impressive amount of debris to fall down.  Most of it landed on my head. 

I went to drop down, but Sir Dalton had reached up and grabbed me by the ankles with his unbreakable grip.  “Wouldn’t  want you to fall!”

Touché...

None of the rocks were large enough to hurt me, so I just bowed my head and let them pelt my skull for about twenty seconds.  Suddenly, there was a flash of moonlight peeking through the hole Badgelor had exposed.  By the time I turned my face up, the blinding light had stopped, leaving behind a pale, peaceful ray of light.  For an instant, I wondered what had happened.

Then, I got a face full of badger, causing me to nearly lose my balance.  Sir Dalton was strong, but I had leverage.  My sudden jerk caused him to step around awkwardly for a moment, before he recovered.  His hands released, and I hopped down.  I brushed off stray bits of stone, as Badgelor scrambled back onto my shoulder.

As I looked down at the moonbeam now shining onto the stone engraving on the floor, it started to glow.  I was used to magic on Ordinal now, but the stone looked almost like it was burning.  As I continued to stare, the poor duck - er, phoenix - spread its mighty wings.  The magical connections running through the floor began to glow a bright orange, and the arcane lock started to unravel.  A bluish light ran down the doorway in a perfect line, before the Dungeon Door started to slowly open, revealing a purple portal hiding within.

Everyone was momentarily awestruck by the glorious tear in space that led to an unworldly path into the beyond.

“First,” yelled Sir Dalton, as he charged into the doorway.

“Moron,” yelled Glorious Robert, dashing in behind him.  A surprised Zorlando followed on the heels of the Fisherman.  Fenris followed them with a disapproving air.  Bashara looked annoyed, as she dove into the portal next.  That left just SueLeeta, Jarra the Healer, and myself with my companions on the outside. 

“Wait,” I said, as Badgelor suddenly leapt off my shoulder and ran toward the gateway.

“YOLO,” screamed the badger, diving in.

SueLeeta started toward the door.  “Those idiots are going to get us all killed.”

“There isn’t any danger in the room they are in,” I replied.

“How do you know that?” asked Jarra.

“Party interface.  None of them are listed as taking damage or in combat,” stated SueLeeta, watching me carefully.  I nodded. 

“Oh, I don’t have access to that,” said Jarra.   After a moment, she continued quietly, “That means it's going to be a lot more dangerous for me, isn’t it?”

I nodded, “Yes, but you are still planning on coming anyway.”  It was a statement, not a question.

“I won’t back down.  I can do this,” she said with determination.

I placed my hand on her shoulder.  “For Wind and Windfall.” I activated my final party invite. 

Jarra’s expression turned to shock as she looked up at me.  “Are you sure?  I’ll be getting a share of the experience that I can’t use and the loot.”

“There will be plenty of both.  I’ll not have our healer going in without as much protection as I can manage,” I said calmly.  “I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

SueLeeta rolled her eyes and grabbed Jarra.  “Jim, we are going to talk later,” she said, dragging Jarra into the portal.  I was left standing outside with only my thoughts and a butthole demon.

“They aren’t going to like that,” stated Shart.  “That’s two dead weights stealing experience points that could be going to the Chosen who need them.”

I was just about done with all the second guessing and backhanded comments.  I glared at Shart until the little demon frowned.  “Well, look who finally grew a pair,” he said, before poofing off my shoulder.  I heard his voice in my head as he continued, “If you’d waited until SueLeeta walked in, Jarra the Healer would have smooched you again!”

I stood for a moment, alone.  The little shit was right.  Damn.  Sighing, I strode into the dungeon. 

Chapter 25: Inside the Dungeon

The initial room of the dungeon was about as dungeon-like as anyone could reasonably expect.  It was cold, dark, and damp.  A musky odor that seemed to carry the underlying scent of rot and death filled the room.  It was great.  It was like walking into a haunted house and being terrified right off the bat. 

Glorious Robert and Sir Dalton had formed a human barricade at the only doorway out of the room.  They were vigilantly watching for signs of trouble.  Everyone else had spread out. Fenris and SueLeeta were examining the walls of the cavern, and Bashara was looking at a sigil at the entrance.  Badgelor was standing on his back paws and aggressively sniffing the air.  Jarra was flanking SueLeeta, doing her best to act as a guard.  Zorlando was shadowing Sir Dalton, ready to come to his aid at a moment’s notice.

“Recognize it?” I asked the Wizard, catching a slight wrinkling of her brow.

“Not exactly,” she replied hesitantly.  “It looks familiar, though.”  She pulled out a book from one of her pouches and started furiously scribbling down notes. 

“HOLD ON,” Glorious Robert yelled, causing everyone to nearly shit their pants.  We all turned to look at him.  “Did we get another party member?”

“Seven seems a bit much,” said Bashara offhandedly, as she continued sketching.

“It's Jim.  He’s weird,” replied SueLeeta, before looking directly at me.  “You should go scout.”

“This should be funny,” said Glorious Robert.  “So, he’s a Rogue too.”

I sighed but pushed past Glorious Robert and headed off into the dark hallway.  Once I got a few paces out, I activated Shadow Walking and started using my Stealth skill.  I heard a sharp inhalation of breath as I did so, my Hide in Plain Sight perk masking my transition. 

Of course, this just left me wandering into the dark, dank depths of the dungeon with no light.  It wasn’t a totally ideal situation.  I briefly considered making a light with my Flameology skill or shifting over to my Sorcerer magical pathways.  Either would cause my eyes to glow, but neither seemed appealing.  In my cartoon watching experience, I knew glowing eyes would make me terribly noticeable.

“I can’t see,” I said.

“Have you tried sniffing?” replied Badgelor, who was now crouched on my shoulder and audibly breathing through his nose.

I was about to say I couldn’t do that, but it was Ordinal.  I took several deep breaths, really trying to analyze what I smelled. 

●        You have learned about the skill, Scent.  You are unskilled. You have a nose for trouble!

The new skill wasn’t all that impressive, at least at my skill level.  Unfortunately, it didn’t let me smell walls enough to naturally avoid them.  For that, I used the old standby of holding my hand out in front of me while I walked.  To properly footpad, you wanted to get a certain distance out, so that you could alert everyone behind you of danger before they got caught unaware.  However, you also still wanted to be close enough that, if there was danger, you could just run back.

Alas, I did not do that.  I started walking, exploring the dungeon.  I rapidly got much further away from the party than I reasonably should have because I was Jim, and I was one curious puppy.  This was all my childhood fantasies rolled into one massive dungeon, and, for a moment, I slipped up.  I only vaguely realized that I had turned a corner and gotten much further away from my allies than I should have.  I did catch a faint whiff of something that was not stone, just as the floor beneath me gave way.  My danger sense apparently only worked if I could see the danger. How is that helpful?

I was out of arm’s reach of any of the walls in the pit.  My athletic skills, like Jumping and Sprinting, required something to move off of.  I didn’t have time to get my sword stuck into something.  I didn’t even have time to try to call it to my hand.  As I started to fall, Badgelor turned 180 degrees and expanded to his War Form.  He then jumped from my back at maximum force. 

The propulsion from my badger was just enough.  I managed to grab at a small protrusion in the wall and held on with three fingers, my feet teetering over the bottomless chasm below.

“Hey, this isn’t a bottomless pit,” called out Shart, as he flew down.  “It's actually only twenty feet deep! Careful, it ends in a slope.”

“Really?” I asked.  I had fallen around ten feet down and was considering just dropping from the awkward, three-fingered grip I had on the wall.  I had the Climb skill.  I just wasn’t especially practiced at it.  No time like the present.  “A slope to where?” I asked.

“There are two cylinders with sharp spikes on them,” said Shart.  I tightened my grip.

“Explain,” I yelled down, as I heard a clicking sound. 

“Well, the two spiked cylinders are sitting parallel to each other, and there seems to be something stuck between them.  Hey, it's magical!  Give me one sec, and I’ll remove it,” yelled Shart. 

“Don’t do that!  It's probably a trap,” I yelled, but I knew I was doomed.  Shart was a freaking magpie when it came to shiny bits of junk.  A magical shiny piece of junk was going to captivate him. 

Suddenly, the clicking stopped, only to be replaced by a dull grinding noise.  “It slipped,” the demon whispered. 

“I can tell when you’re lying,” I reminded him. 

“Yeah,” Shart responded.

For a long moment, everything was quiet.  I foolishly hoped that was the end of the issue.  However, even through the wall, I could feel a faint quiver flowing down my arm. 

“Oh, they are spinning now,” yelled Shart, as the walls began to vibrate. “Wow, they are spinning fast.”

Suddenly, a shaft of light shot out from beneath the rolling grinder wheels, as the fiery furnace beneath them ignited.  The combination of searing heat and the vibrating wall was really doing wonders for my day.

“Shart, where is that thing that was holding the grinders in place?” I yelled, trying to get a solid grip on the protrusion.  In the furnace light, I could see it was a small flaw in the otherwise smooth wall.  It looked very much like the beginning of a stalactite.  The problem was that my three fingers were occupying all the surface area of the lump.  I had no room to adjust my grip at all. 

I could feel it starting to crumble.

“I dropped it into the fire,” the demon replied.

“Why would you drop something like that?” I yelled.

“I got scared of the vibrations.  Those spinning wheels look like they could tear me to pieces,” yelled Shart. 

“Go get it,” I growled.

“But I dropped it into the fire,” he yelled.

“Which does nothing to you, you little zit!  Go get it,” I yelled back. 

“But it's all the way down there,” whined the demon, poofing away. 

I considered jumping out of the hole, but, even with my Jump skill, I didn’t think I would make it.  Under normal circumstances, it was well under my normal limit, but I’d be doing it from pretty far below the lip of the hole.  I would also be jumping from a very awkward starting position. 

Of course, as I ruled it out, my small handhold fell apart in my hand.  No other option now.  I tried it, anyway.

●        Jumping skill activated.  Maximum distance 5 logs, due to poor starting position.

I hurled myself through the air, covering just around fifteen feet in actual distance.  The problem was that I needed to go about a foot further.  I had been stretched out too far, and there was literally nothing I could do to get my hand to move the extra six inches vertically.  I very literally slammed, body first, into the opposite side of the wall and began to fall. 

As I reached the slope, I realized just how steep and smooth it was.  There was no chance of me making the jump to the lip of the hole from here.  The only direction I could go was down, directly into the trap.  So, I backflipped off the wall and landed on the grinders. 

Well, grinder specifically.  I landed on it and started running like a lumberjack running on a submerged log.  It was not ideal.  What made it worse was that, as the grinders spun, they continuously picked up speed.  I was starting to have to use my Sprint skill to keep up, which was slowly draining my Stamina. 

Shart suddenly reappeared next to me, holding the object.  His hands were smoking rather impressively, considering he was fireproof.  “You know, it occurs to me that I have a rope.”

I snatched the object from his hand.  “Go tie the rope to something.”

“Can you say ‘Please’?” he asked.

“Shart, if I die like this-”

“All the more reason to be a little polite.” he said.  I glared at him as best I could, considering my sweaty sprint.  “FINE!  How rude!” he said, flying upward.

The object I had taken from Shart was a small metal ingot, rectangular in shape.  There was a large dent in the middle where the grinders had unsuccessfully closed around it.  The ingot was also glowing red hot, causing me to toss it into the air as I blew on my hands.  What happened next would never be described as heroic looking.  I would catch the ingot in one hand, then juggle it over to the other, all the time trying to use my skills to puzzle out a solution to my predicament. 

My Smithing skill didn’t activate, meaning it was above the kind of metal I could work on.  It was lightweight and hard, kind of like the metal my Dagger of Wounding was made of. 

As I considered this, my foot started to slip.  I wobbled precariously on the grinder for a moment before getting my footing back together.  My options were pretty limited at this point.  The ingot was going to be tricky to get back into place, but I figured if someone else had managed it, so could I.

“I tied it off,” yelled Shart.  He flew back over the lip of the hole and tossed the rope down. “There was a metal ring attached to the ceiling a little ways in.”

“That has to be another trap,” I yelled back, grabbing hold of the rope before it fell into the grinders. 

“There isn’t anything else to tie it to,” complained Shart.  “You are being very ungrateful.”

Groaning, I decided to try my luck with the rope.  I was pulling against an angle, so it was possible that I’d have enough friction on the line to prevent activating whatever the next trap was.  I started climbing up the wall, just like my favorite 60’s crime fighter.

“Hey, this might actually work,” said Shart.  I groaned.

The rope suddenly went slack, as I heard a loud click.  Dropping the rope, I scrambled against the side of the wall.  Finding no purchase, I repeated my first trick and backflipped onto the other grinder. 

“Where is Badgelor?” I yelled over the clanging in the hallway.

“He went to get help,” replied Shart.  It was hard to hear him over the loud clanging, though. “Hey, Dum Dum, I really am sorry about this.  I don’t do these sorts of high-pressure situations well.” 

Wait, what was clanging?

That’s when I noticed the rope caught around one of the grinders.  It was being sucked up like a power cord into a vacuum cleaner.  I half-hoped that might clog it, however, the amount of rope required for that would have been extreme.  The massive brass ring that Shart had tied the rope to was another matter.  It flew down, banging past me and became lodged in the teeth of the grinders.  They emitted a loud groaning as they ground to a stop. 

The sudden loss of angular motion caused me to lurch forward.  If the grinder hadn’t been stopped up, I would have died.  I laid spread across both rollers for a bare instant before getting back to my feet.  An unexpected sound of gushing, rushing water filled my ears. 

“Um, Jim,” said Shart.

Growling, I focused my Stamina.  Now that I was on a level surface, I dumped as much Stamina into a high jump as I could manage. 

●        Jump successful, 7 logs in height.  Cost: 196 Stamina.

I grabbed hold of the lip to the hole and pulled myself up, even as I saw the torches in the distance. Fantastic, my party is coming to save me.  I turned around to watch a tsunami of water flowing into the hall, only to get caught by the giant wall-to-wall pit.  It poured down into the furnace, quenching it. 

The water glowed blue as electrical arcs flashed through it, until its power had mostly drained away.

“Jim,” called out Fenris, “What’s going on?”

“I found two traps,” I said, pocketing my ingot.

SueLeeta nodded.  ‘I guess you were right Fenris.”

“About what?” I asked, deciding that even if it made me obvious, I was going to have a light source from now on.

“I thought Badgelor said you were doomed from traps.  Fenris thought he said you were disarming traps,” stated the Hunter.

“Of course,” I replied.  “What else would I be doing?”

Sir Dalton looked down the hole.  “Good that you found this.  Are there any traps further up?”

“Not for the next hundred feet or so.  I triggered the next trap as well,” I said, gesturing toward the moist hall.  “Let the fluid flow down into this one.”

“Good,” stated Sir Dalton.  He then leapt over the twenty foot gap with no obvious effort, despite his heavy armor.  Fenris and SueLeeta followed a moment later, both easily clearing the gap, as well as Glorious Robert. 

Almost every adventurer had the Jump skill and, while it was a Stamina hog, it would allow you to do things like jump twenty feet across a pit.  The cost of such a jump was around 35 Stamina, assuming you had the skill to a high enough level.  A jump over your maximum range was also possible, but the Stamina cost was much more considerable, doubling the total cost of the jump. 

So while the three Woodsmen could all make the jump for around 35 Stamina, our two warriors were a bit more taxed.  The Jump skill just wasn’t a high priority for either of them.  Glorious Robert was just out of his maximum range and ended up spending 70 Stamina on the jump.  Sir Dalton should have been out of his, but he had a Strength perk that let him apply his Colossal Strength to the effect, increasing his maximum range.  The entire effort cost him 35 Stamina for the jump and 15 Stamina to activate the Perk. 

On the other hand, we also had a Wizard.  Bashara started casting a spell as she got close.  Then, she hopped forward at a speed that should never have allowed her to cross the gap.  As she continued forward, she descended very slowly. 

“Feather Fall?” I asked, as she landed on the other side.

“Of course,” she smirked.  I saw a helmet go flying over the gap into Sir Dalton’s outstretched hand.  “Oh, let’s see how long we have to wait around for the commoners to catch up.”

I turned to see Zorlando running as fast as he could, straight toward the hole.  The heavy steel armor he wore was probably the heaviest armor there, and the only concession he’d made was to toss over his helmet.   His foot hit the edge, and I watched his Stamina bar drop to nearly zero as he launched himself over the gap. 

Skills worked differently for Professionals than they did for adventurers.  Zorlando had all the disadvantages of not having Jump as a focused skill combined with his skill being less effective than an adventurer’s was. 

As an adventurer, my Jump skill broke into three foot, or one log, lengths.  That meant that a twenty foot jump was a difficulty 7 check.  I had to pay for 7 logs worth of distance, which cost me 35 Stamina.  Zorlando was a Professional, and his base length was only two feet.  That meant he had to make ten units of distance.  It also took him longer to develop skills, and Jump was not a skill he had focused on.  He was only up to the Initiate rank.

He cheated, mind you, and used the Sprint skill to add to his base movement.  Doing so extended his jump length, and his own considerable Strength further expanded that distance.  However, his armor weighed a ton and reduced the effectiveness of both, while further increasing the cost of the skill. 

Thus, he missed the total length by around four feet, leaving his head and shoulders over the lip of the hole.  The rest of him dangled precariously over the pit.  I was about to jump over to grab him, but Sir Dalton ran forward.  The Knight gripped Zorlando’s hand and yanked him to his feet.

“Here is your helmet,” stated the big man. 

Zorlando wheezed.  He had blown through almost his entire Stamina bar and was into crash status. 

“Wow, I thought he would have made it,” I said to Badgelor.

“Yup, now carry me over.  I’m not going to be able to jump that,” stated Badgelor.  I was about to respond when I heard frantic clinking.

“Did you forget something?” Bashara yelled over the gap.  I turned to see Jarra the Healer looking frantically through her alchemy satchels.  Her bulky armor was different from the rest of ours.  Hers actually had several points built into it where alchemical potions could be stored.  Most potions came in a vial that was maybe an inch in circumference and six inches long.  Dozens of such vials were built into the armor and could be exposed by pulling open a flap.  Right now, all those flaps were open, making Jarra look like a nuclear submarine with its missiles out.  The healer was pulling out vial after vial, looking for something. 

“What’s the problem?” I asked as Jarra seemed to collapse into her armor.  She removed her helmet and used me to block Bashara from her line of sight.   

“I can’t find any Siers root,” she said, her voice cracking.  “I know I packed some.  I knew I’d need to use it, but I can’t find it.”

I was about to say something, when Badgelor hissed into my ear.  I reached over to one of the potion silos built into her armor and pulled out a vial. 

“How did it get there?” she muttered, taking the vial.  “I need to brew an unstable Frisky Rabbit potion, so I can make the jump.”

“Why didn’t you have one ready?” I asked.

“I have several ready, but they aren’t strong enough to let me jump that,” she whispered.  “My books said ten foot pits, not twenty.  I can only brew them strong enough for fifteen feet, if they are stable.”

“Unstable potions?” I asked.

“I took it as my Expert perk for Alchemy,” she said, a hint of pride in her voice.  “It allows me to brew potions 200% stronger than normal, but they don’t last very long.  The perk has its advantages, though.  If we find a room we have to fight in, I can give everyone super strong healing potions in about ten minutes.”

“That would be useful,” I said.

“See, I can be helpful even here,” she stated, attempting to sound proud and failing.  She was trying her best to do the impossible, and then this happened.   

“I’ve always found you amazingly helpful,” I said calmly.  Jarra blushed.

“Thank you,” she said, gathering herself back up.  “This will only take a minute.  Then, we can be ready to go.”

I glanced at the vial with the Siers root in it.  There wasn’t much left.  “Hold on a second.  You might need that later.” 

Turning around, I glanced at Badgelor.  I calmly walked over to him.  “I’m going to have to help Jarra over.”

“That’s fine.  You can carry us both.” the badger responded. 

“I could,” I agreed, “But this will be easier.  Sorry, Badgelor.”  I quickly picked him up.  “Fenris, catch.”  Then, I hurled the furry little badger through the air, over the pit. 

“Bros before hoes!” Badgelor screamed in a very undignified tone.  Fenris looked shocked but still managed to catch the badger.  Rather than be grateful, Badgelor bit the Woodsman’s finger and scurried down to the ground.  From there, he glared at me.  I turned my back to him and returned to Jarra.  “Here,”  I said, offering my hand, “Let's just jump it.”

“Jim, I can’t clear that without a potion,” she said.

“Haven’t you heard?  I’m an Expert Hiker,” I responded, turning around and making my back like a horsey ride.  “I don’t want you wasting potion components.”

Jarra said nothing for a long moment.  Then, I heard the vial slide back into place and a click, as the silo was secured.  Jarra hopped onto my back like we were two kids playing.  I checked her weight, but, even armored, she was nothing compared to my all powerful Hiking skill.

“Hey, Jim,” Badgelor smirked, “I bet this isn’t how you pictured Jarra riding you.”  I heard Shart guffaw from somewhere.  I chose to ignore them both.  

I walked over to the lip and jumped over.  Now that I wasn’t jumping uphill, I was able to clear the chasm easily.  I landed far past where everyone else landed.

●        Jumping has increased in rank to Journeyman.  Select a perk!

●        Perk Selected: Airborne Control.  You can exert minimal control over your trajectory while you are in the air.

“You are insufferable,” groaned SueLeeta at me.  Jarra hopped off and assumed her position guarding the archer. 

Chapter 26: A Magical Stroll

We continued down the well-lit passageway.  I was using my Flameology skill to practice holding  a light without using my hands.  I couldn’t make a flame appear in midair, but I could cause a bright white light to attach to another physical object.  Then, I could hold it there while only focusing on the light part of it.

It was just another great idea, from everyone else’s point of view.

“Could you turn down the bright light on top of your head?” groaned Bashara after a few minutes. “It's too bright.”

“Well, we need a light source.  Seeing as I’m the only one who can make them. . .” I trailed off.

Suddenly, four glowing orbs of light pulsed in front of Bashara.  She flicked her fingers, and one shot off toward each of the melee fighters.  Next, she generated another, smaller one and attached it to the heavily armored Combat Medic. 

“Hey look, you are good for something,” she said quietly to Jarra. 

I’ll admit the sudden gasp of pain that came from Bashara, when she stumbled over Cat Thirty-Three, SueLeeta’s latest hunting animal, made me happy. 

“If you could make balls of light this entire time, why didn’t you?” I asked Bashara, extinguishing my own ball of light.  I began to examine hers with Arcane Sight.  My Flameology light was about as simple as magical light got.  Hers was far more complex, with dozens of runes folded inside of runes that I didn’t recognize.

●        Arcane Lore skill, successful:  You have made a simple Arcane Lore check!

Then, I realized I was wrong.  It wasn’t that I didn’t recognize the runes.  It  was that the runes were purposefully obfuscated.  Apparently, Wizards could conceal their magical runes so that other casters had a more difficult time counterspelling them.  I considered that for a moment and realized that I could do the same thing, if I wanted too.  I just didn’t see much of a reason to do so.  I usually dealt with the most basic spells, and everyone already knew those.  Furthermore, the actual shape of the rune needed to be very similar to its base form.  No making Fire runes look like Water runes. 

“Lots of runes you don’t know, Dum Dum,” whispered Shart into my mind.  I ignored him. 

I brought up my own Counterspell skill and wondered if I could unmask the runes to see what spell she had cast.  Bashara beat me to it.  Groaning, she dismissed the first ball and threw out a second one.  It one only had three runes, all very easy to detect. 

“I do not understand you one bit,” she said, brushing past me as I studied the runes.  There was a fire rune, which provided the light, and an air rune, which made the light float.  I chuckled when my Arcane Lore kicked off again and identified the rune as a Simple Cloud rune. 

The third rune was the most complex of the simple runes, because it didn’t have any elemental trappings to it.  Imagine that the only language you had ever seen written down was English, and then someone handed you something in Chinese. 

“Shart, what the hell is that?” I asked, examining it closely.

“Oh, paying attention to me all of a sudden,” groaned the demon.  I felt some pressure on the inside of my skull, a sensation that very much felt like the little bugger was peering through my eyeball from the other side.  “It's a Spirit rune.  Looks like a Bonding rune, if I had to guess, which I don't, because that’s what it is.”

“So, is Spirit another form of Magic, like Void?” I asked. 

“Wow, you aren’t totally stupid, Dum Dum,” said Shart.  “I don’t know if I should be impressed with you or disappointed that it took you until now to confirm a singular molecule of smarts.  Yes, Spirit, Void, Gravity, and Essence are generally considered the most common types of advanced magic.”

“But there are more?” I asked.

“Ding, ding, ding,” said the demon, “There are many more kinds of advanced magic than there are basic elemental schools.  Biological Aeromancy is technically considered an advanced form of magic.”

“What separates them from the more basic types of magic?” I asked.

“Complexity or power, often both,” replied Shart.  “Void, for example, unmakes things.  To perform Void magic properly, you have to be very precise in your application of the magic.  Spirit magic attaches things to the spiritual realm, sort of like the source code for the entire simulation.”

“Wait, Ordinal is a simulation?” I asked.  Maybe I was just stuffed into a VR rig somewhere and could get out to see my family. 

“Please, no.  Not this again.  You died, Dum Dum.  This is a matter of perspective.  From my perspective, everything is a simulation.  However, I have a great deal more control over all the variables than you do,” stated Shart.  “From your perspective, this is as real as it gets.  No take backs, no do overs.”

That was a philosophical question for another day.  If you were locked inside a simulation but had no capacity to escape the simulation, did it matter that you were stuck there?  Did that make the simulation less real than a reality that you couldn’t interact with?

“So you can’t turn Ordinal off?” I asked.

“Not really.  I guess you could overload it, if you dumped enough Mana into the matrix.  Even an <Admin> would have difficulty finding that much Mana, though.  I mean, you hear about a world being destroyed every so often, but I’ve never encountered anyone who has experienced it first-hand,” continued Shart.  “What do I know, though?  I’m just 13.7 billion of your dumb years old.”

“That’s how old the universe is on Earth,” I replied.

Shart actually paused.  “How do you know that’s how old the universe is?”

“We studied background cosmic radiation or something,” I replied.  “Earth had an event called the Big Bang that started our entire universe.  All matter in the universe stuck on the head of a pin, or some such.”

I could feel Shart pacing in my mind, and I considered going fully into my mindscape.  Finally, he responded, “Well score one for non-magical Earth.  I guess without any time-altering magics, you guys would have an actual true gauge on the age of creation.  There are scholars all over creation who aren’t even close to your estimate.”

“So, you were there?” I asked.

“Yup, it was a Horrendous Space Kablooie followed by a lot of nothing.  Seriously, you earthlings figured out that all the matter in the universe was crushed down to the size of the head of a pin, and you called it a Big Bang?” chuckled the demon.  “So fucking weird.  Anyway, yes, all of the matter, magic, and energy was contained in a small singularity that detonated and created everything.”

“Did the <admins> do that?” I asked, the word catching in my throat.  I still managed to get it out, at least into my mindscape. 

“Not that I know of.  I think they logged in right afterward, though,” said Shart before coughing.  

“You think?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. 

Shart almost looked. . .ashamed?  Embarrassed?  “Yeah, I think.  It's not like they ever talk to me anyway.”

“I thought you had conversations with them all the time,” I replied.

“No, they talk AT me, not to me,” said Shart sadly.  “I’m an Elder Demon, a world shaker.  Once I get back to the citadel, I’ll have phenomenal cosmic powers, but I’m still bound to do what the <admin>’s say.  They aren’t interested in a being who has powers as limited as my own.”

I glanced out, trying to make sure I was still in menu time.  If I ever lost access to that, I was going to be in a world of hurt.  I guessed maybe a second had passed in real time, so I turned back to Shart.  I was thinking of all the advanced magics he’d mentioned.

“Gravity affects gravity,” I said.

“Well, gravity, time, and a bunch of other variables,” stated Shart, “but sure, let’s just go with gravity.”

“So, what is Essence?” I asked.

“Well, Spirit magic attaches to the ‘spirit’ of Creation, things you can’t ever touch and really can’t even perceive directly.  Essence specifically targets objects inside of Creation, just not on this dimension of it.”

“It’s like my mind scape,” I said, and Shart kind of shrugged.

“More like your Mana network,” said Shart.  “Essence deals with making your Magical, Health, and Stamina cores work.  It's mainly used for magical enhancement of those cores.”

“And skills like what you did with my War Leader talent?” I asked.

“I might have to promote you to Dum Dunce soon,” grinned Shart.  “Yes, Essence manipulation allows you to manipulate the very Essence of an individual.  That does include an individual’s skills.  My bond, as well as Badgelor’s less complicated and weaker bond, are both Essence bond to your soul.  Fair warning, this is getting boring.  Only two more questions.”

“Are there any other kinds of magic I should be worrying about?” I asked after a moment.

“Not really.  There are some variations in how to cast spells, but those are more logical progression of spellcasting than anything that’s going to surprise you. “

“What’s the most powerful kind of magic?” I continued. 

“Plasma,” answered Shart.  “It requires the most Mana and does the most Damage, point for point.  Plasma magic is also the most dangerous to use and the hardest to control, and I’m done.  This has been boring, and you are annoying.  Later!”

Suddenly, the space behind my eyes felt like two old-style window shades being yanked down.  I knew Shart was ignoring me again.

I turned to Bashara.  “What do you know about Plasma magic?”  Before she could answer, SueLeeta came into view. 

“Monsters,” hissed SueLeeta, as she snuck back into the party..

Chapter 27: Drungeons and Drak’ish

The long passage we had been following contained no more traps.  However, it soon ended in an arched doorway.  SueLeeta had taken the lead, as her Trap Finding was second only to my own.  Now, she stood, back to the wall, peering into the doorway.  My party map began to fill with targets. 

“There are more than a dozen of them,” I said, as we all watched the map fill up. The targets appeared to be mouths with legs.  I’d like to say they looked like dinosaurs or something, but the mouths were almost comically oversized.   Their stumpy bodies and large tails appeared only as tiny dots on the map. 

“We can’t see anything other than their icons,” said Sir Dalton.

“It's a shame you don’t have the Scout Party perk,” stated Glorious Robert.  “We’d be able to put SueLeeta in the scout role, and all use our perks to discover any magical talents the monsters possessed.”

I flicked open my menus and delved into the party tab.  I checked the perks and quickly found Scout Party.  I had enough party experience to buy it, but only it.  I considered that for a moment.  If we had someone with the scout role in the party, we could see what we were fighting.  However, we might need another role to defeat them, and I only had enough party experience to buy one role.

We wouldn’t know without the scout, and I was pretty sure we could fumble our way through battle without another party perk.

●        You have purchased the party perk, Party Scout.  A scout can use all party members’ skills when determining a target's value on the party map and in Combat.

I slotted SueLeeta into the role, which was a bit more complicated than I thought was necessary.  The process involved me going into the party menu, finding SueLeeta, dropping her into the role, and then, finally, confirming it.  Instantly, the information on the various monsters started to flesh out.

●        Drak-Ish, type Dragon Kin.

●        Level 20

●        HP: 340/340

●        Stamina: 220/220

●        Mana: 100/100

●        Skills: Unknown (Lore Check Failed)

●        Perks: Unknown (Lore Check Failed)

●        Dragon Kin are creatures that have blood relations to dragons.  Dragon Kin are similar to normal animals, but the power of their draconic blood grants them heightened strengths and abilities. 

“Dragon Kin,” groaned Bashara, checking on the map.  “It doesn’t look like this is starting out easy.  Can we bypass the room?”

“No, it dead ends here, unless you found something else, Jim,” stated Glorious Robert. 

“Let’s just go kill them,” said Badgelor.

“Good idea, Badgelor,” smiled Fenris.  “Let them go.  We’ll find another way to kill them later.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said after a moment.  “We need to spread them out so we can attack them in smaller groups.”

“Fight them in detail,” said Glorious Robert.  “That might work.  Any idea how we could get them separated?”

“We’d have to create a distraction,” I said, thinking.  “Bashara, could you do something magical to distract the monsters, so we can fight them in smaller groups?”

“Probably, but it will take a few minutes for me to come up with the spell,” she said.  “I don’t have a specific Distract Dragon Kin spell on tap.”

“You don’t have any distraction magic ready to go?” asked Glorious Robert incredulously.

“I have plenty of distraction spells.  What I don’t have is a spell designed to push Dragon Kin away from us in a large room without revealing the Wizard doing the casting,” stated Bashara with a glare.

“Why didn't you just say that?” asked Glorious Robert.

This was going to work out, I thought, instantly cursing myself.  One of the Drak-ish turned its head toward the doorway and began to sniff loudly.  I looked at the party map.  The closed eye  icon over SueLeeta started to slowly open. 

“Come up with something quick,” I yelled, as the first creature roared.

SueLeeta twisted around the corner of the doorway and fired a five-arrow Multi Shot directly into the first monster’s chest.  Two of the arrows deflected off its tough scales.  The other three dug in deeply, causing gaping chest wounds that the creature ignored.  Pink blood oozed from the gashes.

The ostrich-sized monster charged toward SueLeeta, inspiring its nearby companions to do the same.  The wounded creature was much faster than anyone expected, however.  It managed to close the distance to SueLeeta before I was able to get there.  Fortunately, SueLeeta’s hunting pet was able to launch itself at the monster, just in the nick of time. 

Cat Thirty-Three leapt straight into the Dragon Kin’s oversized mouth and was promptly devoured.  The feline’s sacrifice didn’t slow the creature at all.  It prepared to lunge at SueLeeta again.

I activated my Thrust maneuver.  Magical energy propelled me across the room faster than I could sprint.  I buried my entire blade deeply into the creature’s gut.  It snapped its jaw onto my helmet, bending the metal before ripping it from my armor.  For a brief moment, all I could see was the inside of its mouth and teeth.  So many teeth. So many sharp, pointy teeth.

“Blazing Sword,” I yelled hollowly, as three more monsters exploded out of the room.  Smoke and fire erupted from the back of the injured creature, as my Blazing Sword doubled the Damage of my initial attack.  Still, the creature kept biting at me.  I was forced to shove my left forearm into its jaws.  Dangerous teeth locked onto my magical bracer and began to chew. 

SueLeeta fired an arrow into the chest of another creature.  It stumbled backward, as her arrow impacted its chest.  She moved past Fenris, just as he blurred forward.  The Warden slammed his shield into the monster’s frame, sending it sprawling. 

A third creature had moved past us and was pursuing SueLeeta, when Sir Dalton’s mighty blade smashed onto its head.  The creature was annoyed enough at that point to focus solely on the Knight.  With the monster’s attention diverted, Zorlando was able to execute a follow-up attack, carving into its ankle.  A sickening scraping sound followed, as the mercenary’s sword met bone.   

A moment later, Glorious Robert was on my other side.  He was armed with a gaff hook and what appeared to be half a barrel.  The weapons looked almost comedic, until I watched him smash and bash the creature with his gaff and shield.

“This isn’t going to work long!  There are more coming,” yelled Glorious Robert.

I executed a Hack and Slash, but, shoulder to shoulder with Fenris and Glorious Robert, the strikes spread out, slashing into each of the nearby creatures.  Had I landed all three blows on the same creature, I might have slain it.  Spread out as we were, I succeed in little more than annoying the monsters.

Suddenly, as it rested its weight on its tail and brought both its feet off the ground, my creature dragged me forward.  Dark memories of a puma-filled forest permeated my mind, as claws prepared to tear into me.

Screaming with a terror-filled rage, I leapt over the creature.  I was able to flip over it perfectly, due to it still having my arm in its mouth.  The motion was too much, though, and it brought the creature off balance.  It began to fall.  I descended with it, driving my sword into its gut a second time, using all of my weight.  The creature spasmed violently, broken.

I took in the rest of the scene in an instant.  Sir Dalton had his monster on the ropes, but Fenris’ and Glorious Roberts’ shields were not well-suited for the strong, heavy creatures.  The creatures’ heads were simply too well-armored for most strikes to do very much.  They would grab at the shields and pull them aside while reaching in with clawed legs. 

Already, I had watched one preparing for a devastating strike on Fenris, only to take an arrow between the toes.  The creature howled, and Fenris slashed into its leg another time for good measure. 

Glorious Roberts’ shield suddenly came away from his arm.  Before I could move to help, he had a second weapon out and was beating the creature mercilessly.  It snapped and rushed at him, but the fireplug of a man always seemed to be where it wasn’t. 

Realizing I had a few moments, I checked the doorway.  Six more of the creatures were rushing straight toward us. 

“Bashara, get a distraction working now,” I yelled out, as the Drak-ish fighting Sir Dalton suddenly went limp.  A burning black spot appeared on its spine.  Badgelor turned his head toward the doorway and grinned at me.  His eyes were glowing a dark purple.

“Jim, let's get the door,” suggested the badger.  He jumped and expanded to his maximum size in midair.  He was broad enough that he occupied the entire doorway, except for a small triangle above him.  He snarled as the monsters rushed him. 

“Now, Bashara,” I yelled, as one of the creatures lowered its massive head like a battering ram and tried to knock Badgelor out of the doorway.  Badgelor slammed his clawed paw into the creature’s head, driving much of the force into the wall.  I double cast Fire Stream onto it.

Well, mostly it.  Some of the Fire Stream hit Badgelor.  Most of it.  Okay, Badgelor was a much easier target than the Drak-ish.  The fire seemed to surround Badgelor while causing almost no Damage.  That said, it still felt wrong to admit I was using a flamethrower on my pet badger.

It seemed to do the trick, though.  Badgelor lit up.  All the remaining creatures on the other side of the doorway started to rush toward him.  Behind me, I heard Fenris and Glorious Robert both dispatch their enemies. It seemed that the Dragon Kin really liked bright lights.

That, however, didn’t help Badgelor.  As tough as he was, I could see his Health bar starting to drop as he took more and more Hit Points of Damage.  If he pulled back, though, the creatures would swarm through the door.

“Jim, I need to heal him,” stated Jarra the Healer.

I cut the flames and noticed that, while the creatures were still focused on him, they seemed to lose the laser-like focus they had before.  Jarra quickly sprinted forward and slammed a patch onto Badgelor’s back.  Instantly, I saw his Hit Points shoot back up, as the Unstable Greater Healing Potion did its thing. 

“Health patches?” I asked.

“It’s a combat medic thing,” replied Jarra, as she stepped backward.

“We need to pull Badgelor out of there,” stated Sir Dalton.

“If we do that, they will swarm us,” replied Glorious Robert.

“It's not going to matter soon, anyway,” stated Fenris.  A second creature tried to ram past Badgelor, and my companion’s health began to drop again.

I opened my mouth to yell at Bashara, but she was already through most of the motions of a spell.  Suddenly, she was finished.  Magic surrounded me, penetrated me, and bound me up in its casting. 

And man, oh man, did I sparkle.

“What the hell is this?” I yelled, as the creatures redoubled their efforts to get through Badgelor.

“Die, ya wee beasties,” screamed the badger, activating his badger rage.  He immediately reclaimed some Hit Points, as he tore one of the creature’s heads off.

“Get Badgelor clear,” I said, looking at the small gap and shrugging.

I leapt through it, landing in front of Badgelor and executing a Blazing Cleave.  My flaming sword slashed through several of the creatures nearby, killing at least one of them.  Next, I spotted one further in the rear.  I used Thrust to propel myself toward him.  Its jaw opened at the last moment.  For an instant, I thought I was going to be able to drive my sword into its open mouth.  Shockingly, he slammed his jaw shut, holding my blade in place. 

Releasing it, I rolled back to my glowing, sparkly feet and ran further into the large room that was the Drak-ish nest.  I focused Mana into both of my palms and fired streams of flame behind me, as I tore off into the cavern.  Five of the seven creatures began chasing me, as I charged through the room. 

The cavern was much larger than I had anticipated.  It was nearly a hundred yards across, though large piles of bones were scattered throughout.  Those piles were oftentimes taller than I was.  Unfortunately, they were also too loose for me to make much use of them for climbing.  The floor was also covered in scattered debris from the creatures’ earlier kills. 

The snapping of a jaw at my feet caused me to redouble my pace, as I tried to outmaneuver the monsters.  Looking for a quick exit, I leapt over an entire pile of bones, only to discover that one of Drak-ish had beaten me to the other side.  Rotating my body in midair, I pointed both hands at the creature and let streams of fire roll over him.  I came down, feet first, onto his burning snout. 

I flipped off him, just as another monster smashed into the burning one.  Both slammed into a pile of bones which collapsed, burying them. 

“Jim, come back by,” mentally yelled SueLeeta through the party communication system. 

I attempted to sprint toward the entrance, even as the creatures charged from behind me.   “Be ready for me!”

“That won’t be hard,” I heard Fenris think.

I was glowing like a disco ball.  They could probably guess where I was, down to a few feet.  Growling as I had to jerk left and then right, I avoided two more of the creatures, as they tried to snap at my ankles.  I dug in harder, trying to find some extra speed as I turned the corner, the creatures coming up fast behind me.

●        Sprint Check, Failed: You are attempting to sprint on uneven ground.

My shoulder hit first.  I tried to get my feet beneath me, but I was skidding off a slick covering and bits of bones.  The Drak-ish didn’t seem to have any trouble with it.  Their massive claws dug into the ground, keeping them from experiencing balance issues.  Both of my spells failed as I tumbled, but I was close enough to the entrance to see my sword.  I summoned it to my hand, even as I jammed one of my feet into the ground.  I flew skyward.

It probably looked awesome.  I hope it looked awesome.  My sword slammed into my palm.  I was ready to strike at the creatures, as they closed.  The fact that they weren’t there slightly ruined the image, however.  I continued backward, until I struck the floor and managed to roll onto my feet.

Both creatures had diverted from me and were charging toward the rest of my party.  One of the creatures was on fire.  The other had several arrows sticking out of its chest.  My party had found a spot by the entrance with two of the massive bone piles on either side.  They had used this position to form a defensive line. 

The creatures struck at the same moment.  Fenris took one on his shield by countercharging at the same time.  Both met with an audible crack that seemed to stun them.  Glorious Robert was there to pounce on the creature.  Zorlando had attempted a similar tactic but fared less well.  He was knocked backward onto his ass.  That would have gone poorly for him, but Sir Dalton had timed an attack for that exact moment.  His powerful overhand chop drove the advancing Drak-ish to the ground.

“We have this,” thought SueLeeta.  “Keep the rest of the pack away, until we are ready for them.”

That I could do.  Finding one of the creatures in the back, I executed a Thrust.  Blasting through the remaining eight creatures, I drove my sword into its eye.  Two more attempted to grab at me, but they were out of position.  I executed Cleave with Powerful Blow, knocking them aside.  I found another avenue of escape and started running again. 

“There are eight now,” I thought to the party.

“We must be picking up strays from somewhere else,” replied Glorious Robert.  “Try to find out if there are more entrances.”

One of the Dragon Kin leapt at me, coming in from the side.  My Fancy Footwork kicked on, and I managed to avoid the blow by a hair's breadth.  Next my Riposte talent activated, and I slashed into the creature with a powerful blow, knocking it into the air. 

As I watched it fly, I realized I had a moment to use the new talent I’d unlocked from all that practice with Glorious Robert.  While every even level granted me a talent point to use with my Duelist talent tree, I could also earn them very slowly by earning Experience.  I’d been practicing a lot with Glorious Robert. 

I activated the skill as I jumped, feeling the power surge around me.  Deciding to go for broke, I activated Powerful Blow and Blazing Sword at the same time.

●        You have struck multiple targets with Blazing Powerful Falling Star Strike. Damage 47  for 45 Slashing and 2 Severing Damage + 12 Powerful Blow (rank 3).  Blazing adds 63  Fire (47 base + 4 Flameology + 12 Improved Elemental Attunement). Effect: Shockwave diameter 3 logs ( Rank 6 divided by  2), Powerful Blow 3 (+3 logs to knockback),  Cost: Falling Star Strike (cooldown) Stamina 30, Mana 47

I hit him like a comet, fire blazing off me.  My sword slammed into its armored back.  The strike forced both of us to the ground.  The flames surrounded us, right until the point of impact.  As we struck the ground, the collected force exploded outward.  All the nearby creatures and humans were knocked aside.

“Shit, it's still alive,” I thought to the others, turning to run in another random direction in order to keep the creatures away from me. 

“What’s still alive?” thought Shart, as I continued running.  “GAAAAA.  WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?”

“Kiting monsters,” I said.  I dodged to the left and slashed another creature on the side.  Yet another attempted to bite my head off, only to narrowly miss.  We continued running.

“There are NINE of those things after you,” groaned Shart.  I turned a corner, and two of the nearby creatures were struck by arrows and spells. 

“Now there are only seven,” I said, as the one I’d hit with my Blazing Powerful Falling Star Strike came into view.  I used my free hand to chuck a Fire Bolt into it, finally causing the creature to collapse.  ”And now six.  This will be easy.”

I dove across the room, letting all the creatures chase after me.  I found a path that had less debris, allowing me to use more of my speed.  Several Dragon Kin got close enough to slash as I ran past, and I Fire Bolted another.  With my speed and Stamina, I thought I might be able to keep running forever, just to wear them down.  I was considering my options when another creature caught me in my blind spot.  Fortunately, my Fancy Footwork activated, and I jerked to the side of his attack.

Unfortunately, I caught a second blow in my chest that lifted me entirely off the ground.  I was sent flying through the air far less gracefully than the last time I was airborne.  I impacted with a pile of bones, sending fragments, and my sword, scattering everywhere.  Only moments after I landed, the alpha launched itself at me.  It's wide-open mouth snarled, and I caught a whiff of dead carcass on its breath. 

“Noodle!” I exclaimed, generating a Fireball far faster than I had been able to before.  My improved Flameology skill was already paying off.  I fired it into the creature’s open mouth.  The scalding magic caused it to stumble, and I surged forward.  I grabbed its mouth and forced it shut.  The muffled boom of my Fireball was quite satisfying. 

The alpha wasn’t interested in letting me keep a grip on its maw, so it spun rapidly to the side.  I was thrown free, but I managed to avoid a second strike in midair, as one of the common Drak-ish snapped at me. 

Rolling free, I attempted to summon my sword before moving back toward the party.  I could feel the sword, but it refused to come to my hand in the moments I had before I was out of range. 

●        Summon Blade: Lets you return a sword to your hand from any distance.

○        You must have a clear line of sight to the weapon

○        The weapon must have a clear path to your hand

Any distance my ass.

“Incoming!”

“There are ten of them now, plus the alpha,” stated Shart. 

Checking my Mana and Stamina, I realized I had a problem.  “I need a pit stop!”

“We can’t dig a pit this quickly,” replied Fenris.

“I mean I need Stamina and Mana potions,” I yelled back.

“Get them into a group,” stated Bashara.

As I turned the corner to get in line with the party, I noticed that Bashara’s Mana reserves were dangerously low.  Hopefully that meant she had cast something impressive.  As I glanced down at the ground, I saw a series of wards had been placed. 

I leapt into the air, covering the distance over the wards easily.  As I did so, I fired two more Fireballs that detonated near the Drak-ish.  Fireballs were not my best magical attack, by any means, but they were bright and flashy.  The creatures bunched up slightly at the bright fires, before they charged toward me. . .

Straight into a minefield.  The wards activated in ones and twos, followed by multiple wards at the same time.  Each of them, on their own, was far less impressive than my Fireball spell.  However,  Bashara had laid out about twenty of the wards. 

Ten Drak-ish had run into the field.  I had been slashing, burning, and generally making a menace of myself, so they were far from healthy.  After the flurry of explosions, only six ran out.  Several of them were bloody ruins that SueLeeta instantly started firing into.  

“I told you so,” stated Bashara, shaking her head at Glorious Robert.  “My spells tore most of them up.”  Glorious Robert grunted but said nothing.

Badgelor was back in the center of the formation, almost at full Health.  As I sprinted past, Jarra the Healer tossed me two potions.  I drank both without checking what they were.  They smelled sweet but tasted spicy.  Instantly, my Mana and Stamina started to recover. 

“You didn’t take any damage?” asked Sir Dalton, who’s own Health was down slightly.

“I’ve mainly been avoiding them,” I said, holding up my hand to summon my sword.  It was now very much out of range.

“Looks like the ones at the door were much tougher than the ones you’ve been leading around,” said Glorious Robert.  He didn’t have the Lore skill, so he couldn’t really tell how tough a creature was, and that group had fallen easily.  He shrugged as he unhooked a blade from his belt and tossed it to me.  His weapons cache seemed to include a gaff hook, two shortswords, an axe, a bigger axe, a club, a cudgel, and something that looked very much like the sink out of someone’s kitchen. 

By the time the creatures got to us, only three were still standing.  One of those was so badly injured that, before it even closed the range, Badgelor put it down with Destructive Gaze.  One of the creatures was still attempting to come after me, when Fenris launched himself forward.  The Warden slammed into it with his shield, causing the creature to go flying into a nearby pile of bones.

The other one was suffering from a leg injury, preventing it from charging.  Zorlando and Sir Dalton intercepted it, while Fenris unceremoniously stabbed into the bone pile until the other Drak-ish stopped moving. 

“We have won,” stated Sir Dalton.  An instant later, a deafening roar filled the room.

“There’s the big one,” I said, as the alpha came back into view. 

●        Alpha Drak-ish, type Dragon Kin

●        Level 25

●        Sub Boss

●        HP: 2482/2700

●        Stamina: 1380/1450

●        Mana: 950/950

●        Skills: Unknown (Lore Check Failed)

●        Perks: Unknown (Lore Check Failed)

“Finally, a worthy opponent,” stated Sir Dalton, in what might not have been bluster. 

“He’s already taken some Damage,” stated SueLeeta.  “Jim, were you playing with the boss?”

“I might have had a tussle,” I said.

“Is that your sword sticking out of its head?” asked Glorious Robert, gesturing to my blade at the back of its skull.

Throwing Glorious Robert his sword back, I stuck out my hand.  The alpha’s head twisted to the side, and my blade tore free.  It flew across the room in a glorious, graceful arc, falling straight into my outstretched hand with an audible slap.  “Free Sword Delivery,” I chuckled.

Bashara groaned.  “Focus on the enemy.”

The alpha was busy snarling and roaring, tearing out big chunks of stone with its talons.  Badgelor was responding by snarling himself, matching the creature in both volume and aggression.

“Clear a path,” stated Bashara, strolling past the badger.  “Then, get ready to run in and finish it off.  I doubt this will kill it.”  As she spoke, her staff floated up next to her.  Magical runes on either side suddenly glowed a smoky yellow.  Bashara began muttering many words of power in quick succession. 

My Arcane Lore activated.  I recognized the spell as an Aeromancy spell, but I couldn’t recognize anything else about it.  As she continued chanting, the effect got far more interesting. Her staff started glowing and then began to spin.  A string of runes appeared in midair.  As Bashara continued the incantation, the staff spun faster and faster.  As she finished, her eyes began to glow the same yellow as the runes on her staff.  Finally, she slammed her palm forward into the runic circle she had formed in the air.

●        Lemnar’s Invasive Probing Lighting Lash: Battlefield Magic

I had expected a bolt of lightning.  Instead, the ground around the alpha began to vibrate for an instant.  Small streams of electricity began to flash from the ground.  Then, solid electric bolts shot out of the floor, wrapping around the alpha’s limbs and dragging it down.  More lightning tentacles emerged from the ground and began wrapping around it. 

“How did you manage that?” I asked, as the lighting continued ravishing the alpha Drak-ish.

“The alpha let me,” Bashara exhaled.  “Normally, I’d have some people to protect me while I cast that particular spell.  If the monster had walked any closer to us, the spell wouldn’t have even worked.”

I looked over to Fenris, but he was watching Dalton.  I turned to examine Dalton and realized that the Knight had seen this spell before.  He apparently knew when it was safe to advance.  After an intolerably short time, he gestured with two fingers, and we all charged forward.  SueLeeta began pelting the alpha with arrows. 

Our tactics hadn’t been perfect.  Bashara had centered the field on the creature, rather than put the alpha at the edge.  That meant we had to cross more distance than was absolutely necessary.  Badgelor, in his largest size, was not very swift.  He got to the alpha well after everyone else. 

The four melee types got to the creature more or less at the same time.  We had just under ten seconds to pound on it, before it managed to break free of the shocking effect of the spell.  Sir Dalton, ever the gentleman, went for the legs and groin.  Fenris went for the eyes, and Glorious Robert pulled a chain out of nowhere.  The Fisherman started swinging it around the creature’s maw, binding it shut. 

By the time Badgelor got to the creature, Fenris had used his Shield Bash to knock it back to the ground.  The rest of us were just pounding on it with our weapons.  I wasn’t sure who managed to land the death blow, but, if I had to guess, it was Sir Dalton.  Epic decapitation had a way of bringing battle to a standstill.  The Knight hadn’t even been aiming  above the shoulders. 

“Really?” I asked.

“You, for one, should know how devastating a Groin Critical can be,” replied the Knight.

I shut my trap.  He had a point.

Chapter 28: Aftermath

“I expected the alpha to be tougher,” I commented.  The party, minus Fenris, who’d stayed back to help Badgelor skin the monsters, began slowly moving through the room.  SueLeeta was scouting ahead, and I was keeping my eyes open for nearby traps and other complications.  Given the amount of spastic running around we had just done, I really didn’t expect to find much.

“The first room is always a sub boss,” scoffed Bashara.  “I’m surprised you thought that.  Normally, the first room sub boss is easy to the point of being ignorable.”

“Well, I was hoping he would be tougher,” I said glumly.

Glorious Robert rolled his eyes and then winced as Jarra the Healer poured a small vial of healing potion directly onto a wound in his side.  Then, she took out a small hammer and pounded on his armor for several minutes.

●        Glorious Roberts’ armor Durability increase by 8.  (½ of the Durability lost during the fight is restored)

“That doesn’t seem medical,” I said, as Jarra walked over to me.

“Well, I’m full of surprises,” she said, looking at my armor.  Aside from being knocked across the room by the Alpha, I was in pretty good shape.  She furrowed her brow and began circling me like a shark.  

Then, I felt a sharp smack to my rear end.  The mild-mannered healer had just taken her hammer and knocked out a dent I was unaware of.  On my ass.

“You could have warned me,” I said.  She grinned and walked off.

Sir Dalton frowned and walked over to me.  “As soon as I clear up this confusion with SueLeeta, I intend to continue courting Jarra the Healer.”  I said nothing.  Sir Dalton continued to scan the room.  There was going to be a time and place for that discussion, but the middle of a hostile dungeon was neither that time nor that place. 

Suddenly, SueLeeta yelled out, “Found it!”  Our semblance of a formation collapsed, as everyone upped the pace to get to our spoils.  I spotted SueLeeta dragging out a large, steel and wood chest with various symbols written into it.

“Thought that would be bolted down,” I said.

“It's just a chest,” replied Bashara, walking over to it.  “The first chest in a dungeon typically has one decent magical weapon in it.  There are possibly a few potions, too.”

“And some gold?” asked Zorlando.

“Sure, gold is in there.  Not much, though, since it’s the first chest.  The treasures are worth far more than mere gold,” replied Bashara.  She watched SueLeeta with the chest expectantly.  After several moments, she asked, “Well?”

“Well, what?” replied SueLeeta.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” asked Bashara.

“What if there’s a trap?” SueLeeta responded.

“That’s why I’m not opening it.”

I stepped past both of them and knelt in front of the chest.

●        Lockpick vs Chest: You check has been successful

●        Trap Finding vs Chest: You have not detected any traps on this chest.

Oops, think I did those in the wrong order.  Oh well.  I flipped open the lid to the chest.

●        You have found: Magical Bastard Sword: Lesser

●        You have found: Potion (unknown)

●        You have found: Scroll (unknown)

I pulled out the Bastard Sword first.  By all accounts, it shouldn’t have fit inside the chest, but I was so used to extradimensional storage that I just ignored that fact.  I briefly examined the blade with my Scan skill.

●        Magical Bastard Sword: Lesser.  This sword has been enchanted to increase all Damage done by 10%.

Interesting, I thought.  I cast a Flame Stream while holding the blade.  It did its usual Damage, meaning all was subjective.  It was an improvement but nothing to write home about.  I tossed it over to Glorious Robert.  “Figure out which one of you wants that,” I instructed.

The scroll was snatched from my hands by Bashara.  I grumbled and pulled out the potion, which Jarra snatched out of my hand.  Bashara had been correct.  There was a little gold, too.  Zorlando was already pulling out the coins and placing them into eight small pouches. 

I turned to see Sir Dalton and Glorious Robert arguing over the sword.  Apparently, it was an upgrade over even Sir Dalton’s lightning-infused weapon.  Considering that for a moment, I realized that if I’d been doing 10% more damage, I’d have been able to slay some of the Drak-ish.  Then again, the sword was heavy enough that they might have caught me. 

Then, it hit me.  None of my classes really went in for larger swords.  As a duelist, I could use most one-handed swords, but I had felt that the larger Bastard Sword was just too big to be comfortable. 

Walking over to the two men, I lifted the sword off the ground and gave it a few experimental swings while they argued.  The swing seemed normal, so I selected an imaginary target.  I used my Thrust talent, stopping well short of my destination. 

“You have the Duelist Thrust talent,” stated Glorious Robert matter-of-factly.  “It's not compatible with oversized weapons.”

I handed him the cumbersome thing and walked over to Jarra.  She had several strips of paper out and was pouring single droplets of the found potion onto them.  After each time, she would consult a small notebook. 

I peeked over her shoulder, looking into her book.  “Figured out what it is yet?”

She made a startled mouse noise and snapped the book shut, nearly spilling the potion in the process.  “No, I have not.  It will take several minutes, Mister Mayor.”

I nodded.  Jarra used a few too many hearts in her potion instructions for my taste.  Honestly, if you’d said she used any hearts in her writings, I would have called you a liar.  When she realized I’d caught her, I could see her cheeks starting to redden.  I excused myself and wandered over to Bashara.  The Wizard was busily tossing her new scroll onto the ground and frowning.

“I already know this one,” she grumbled.

Picking up the scroll, I started reading it.  It took me a few moments to capture the syntax of how it was supposed to be read, but the runes were much more intricate than anything I’d seen before. 

The runes were very different from Fire runes, but my Arcane Lore skill kicked in to save me.  They were Air runes, and the spell was called Lightning Bolt.  I spent a few more moments memorizing the runes and decided to give it a try.  Bashara watched me curiously.

“Ap Zay,” I yelled and released the energy held in my palm.  I instantly regretted it.  Sparks did indeed fly out of my hand, but in an uncontrolled fashion.  My fingers began to smolder at several points. 

Suddenly, time seemed to freeze.  “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING NOW!”  Shart’s voice bellowed.  It was so loud that I thought my ears were going to pop. 

I had been forcefully pulled back into my mindscape, and Shart was glaring at me.  His body had expanded to the size of a house, his eyeballs nearly the height of my body.  I glared at him.  He glared back.  I pictured him at his usual size, which somehow caused him to shrink down. 

“I was trying something,” I said.  “It didn’t work out well.”

Shart continued glaring at me.  Even in his diminished size, it was unpleasant.  “Well, there are reasons for that, Dum Dum.  Not that you’d ever ask me what they were!”

“I’m curious.  Do tell,” I replied dryly.

Shart started pacing back and forth, muttering curses under his breath.  Spinning back around on me, he forcefully explained, “Look, I don’t think you have much of a chance fighting the Dark Overlord.  The least you could do, the very least, is to not accidentally kill yourself.  You only have two Mana cores unlocked.  Neither of them is Aeromancy.”

“What about my Biological Aeromancy?” I questioned.

Shart grumbled.  Suddenly, an image of my Mana network flashed to the side.  The network of pathways were pulsing and humming, even in this time slowed world.  I was fairly sure that  indicated that the image was a false one.  Shart gestured toward my boys.

“This is your Fire Core.  It is located in your loins.  Before you ask, yes,  that applies to both genders.  Yes, there is some variation on how it works for women vs men, but, at your level, it does not matter,” lectured the demon.  Then, he pointed toward the Mana network’s lungs.

“Your lungs are where your Aeromancy Core is located.  You’ll notice that your Aeromancy core is shriveled and atrophied.  That’s because you focused on Biological Aeromancy,” said Shart, gesturing at a much healthier looking Mana core located in my intestines, “Instead of something useful.”

As Shart pointed, I really started concentrating on the Mana network image.  To my surprise, I could move it around.  I was making it wave at me when Shart finally noticed.  He swung around to glare at me again.  I felt a sudden mental snapping, and the image returned to the original orientation. 

“So, I can’t learn Aeromancy?” I asked.

“No, you can’t learn Aeromancy!  All your Aeromancy Skill Points end up going to your Biological Aeromancy core instead of to your Aeromancy core.  Before you ask, even if you were to flip your Mana network between Sorcerer and Mage, you still have to connect all of your cores.  Your Skill Points are always going to travel that direction,” screamed Shart, “No Matter What!”

“Makes sense,” I said, at the perfectly ordinary explanation.

“Good,” started Shart.  As he spoke, I brought up the image of the Lighting rune.  It looked like some sort of complicated three-dimensional table. 

“But, what if I cheated?” I asked, also bringing up an image of the Biological Aeromancy runes I knew.  My Arcane Lore triggered, and I was able to see certain similarities between the two runes.  I could also make out the points where the two runes differed.  “I could just change this like so, and boom, BioLightning!”

“You think you can just make up a new magical rune, willy nilly?” screamed the shocked demon.

“Hardly.  I’m sure someone already came up with this rune.  I just don’t know how they got there,” I said, poking at the rune some more.  “Then again, I’m not an all-powerful demon who knows things.”

“You think that’s going to work, but it won’t,” growled Shart.

“Well, if you don’t know how. . .” I trailed off.

“That is the most basic manipulation in the book, even worse than your last trick,” continued the demon.  “I don’t know the exact rune, but I can probably figure out something better than that!”  He gestured toward my newly created rune, but, as he looked at it, his expression softened somewhat.

“Actually, it's not that bad,” said the demon.

“Good, I’m gonna try it,” I said and started to drop out of menu time.

“WAIT, you idiot!  Not that bad doesn’t mean it will work,” growled Shart, as he more carefully examined the rune.  “I mean, you’d have to change a few bits, at the very least.  Otherwise, something on you will most certainly explode. 

Shart spent the next several moments slightly altering the Lightning rune.  The whole time, he muttered under his breath, until it was satisfactory to him.  It looked basically the same, like a small dining room table.  Shart’s version had made the rune droopier, with some bulges on the sides. 

“That looks awesome,” I said, dazzled.

“I’m hiding in the bar,” said Shart, disappearing from my mind’s view.

I dropped back into real time, just as Bashara’s shocked face fully registered my smoldering fingers.  I quickly drank a small healing potion and held up my hand again.

“Oops,” I said.  Bashara just shook her head.

“Well, it seems you can’t do everything,” she said with a smug little grin.

“What’s going on over there?” Jarra asked.

“Oh, nothing,” Bashara answered.  “Jim was just on fire again.”

“What?” Jarra asked, stepping over in our direction.

“I’m fine.  I had a healing potion on me,” I smiled. 

“That’s right.  Everything is fine over here.  Go back to your. . .endeavors, Tarra,” Bashara smiled sickly.

“Wonder who she thinks brewed the healing potion to begin with,” muttered Jarra under her breath.  

I opened my palm and began focusing my Mana into the new rune.  It took a moment to properly visualize.  As I worked the magic into it, the rune began to behave oddly.  Several points on it started to glow strangely, almost like part of the rune was in shadow.  Small amounts of Mana seeped from the spell.  I seemed to be able to make microscopic adjustments to the nearly completed rune, though, and those changes eventually forced it to glow evenly. 

●        You have discovered the Biological Lightning Rune.  Biological Aeromancy skill upgraded to Journeyman.  Arcane Lore skill increased.  Journeyman rank achieved.

Awesome, I had crafted a brand new rune.  I wondered if I’d be able to do that for any other runes, but I instantly realized how tricky it would be.  Shart had modified this rune just a bit, to make it into Biological Lightning.  However, it was pretty obvious that he’d done about 99.9% of it, and I’d just had to do the remaining .1% of the work.  Given that improperly made runes exploded, and the only way to test them was to power them up, you’d literally be working with hand grenades when trying to upgrade runes.  

I focused on the rune.  I kept repeating it in my hand until I had six overlapping Biological Lightning runes attached to each other.  I remembered when I’d had trouble stringing just a few runes together and grinned. 

●        You have learned a new Spell: BioLightning!  Damage 8-64, +2-16 per additional rune.  Max 6 runes.  Each rune costs: 15 Mana and 15 Stamina.  Select a word of power!

I even got to select the word of power.  I considered for a moment, but there was really only one choice.  I found a particularly annoying pile of bones and yelled out, “GUYVER!”

●        You are casting BioLightning, 6 runes.  Damage 18-144.

The pile of bones exploded into flinders.  Bones scattered throughout the chamber.  Several even hit the ceiling, some thirty feet above us.  Bashara and I stared at the smoking remains of the pile of bones.  I grinned.

“Ouch,” yelled SueLeeta, who had been pelted with debris.  “Jim, quit it!”

“That was impressive,” Bashara said after a long moment.  She took a longer moment to examine the green-speckled scar on the ground where my spell hit.   “I’m sorry I made fun of your fa. . .Biological Aeromancy.  “

“How hard do you think that spell would be to block?” I asked, looking at her side-eyed. 

Bashara smirked.  Moments later, she was standing at a carefully measured-off distance, just at the edge of range for my new spell.  “Only do one rune!”

I nodded and extended my palm at her before yelling the word of power.  A BioLightning bolt flashed toward her.  Her Aeromancy barrier glowed bright yellow, until the spell hit it.  The barrier flexed for a bare instant, before the bolt exploded through it.  The impact caused the spell to lose less than half of its initial strength.  The only thing that saved Bashara was her being at the edge of the range.  The spell defused right before it hit her.

She looked horrified.  We tried again with all the elemental types.  Each time, the bolt carved through them like they were nothing.  After a few more variations, Bashara finally just shook her head and gave up, walking back over to me.

“It is advanced magic.  Elemental barriers aren’t going to work on it,” she said.

“What would?” I asked.

“A Void barrier,” she said consideringly.  “Void is the natural enemy of life.”“Void is the natural enemy of matter,” I corrected.

“Well, you’re alive, and you are made of matter,” replied Bashara smugly. 

She had a point there.  I did like all of my matter right where it was. 

Badgelor and Fenris wandered into view.  The badger was covered tip to toe in thick, red blood.  Thankfully, it wasn’t his or the Woodsman’s.  Fenris was holding multiple Drak-ish hides and wearing a horrified expression. 

“Inside-out skinning,” I nodded.  I’d seen Badgelor corpse dive enough to know how his help had proceeded. 

“It was an experience,” stated a slightly green Fenris.  He was still holding all the skins, though, so he didn’t seem to care too much.  Either that or he was going into shock.  Sir Dalton and Glorious Robert started walking our way.  A very happy looking Zorlando followed behind, holding the looted sword.

“Figure there was better loot further in?” I asked.

“Perhaps,” said Glorious Robert.

“SueLeeta,” I yelled, “Any idea which way we should go next?”

“There are two ways out of here, north and west.  I don’t see a difference between the two.  Ask Badgelor,” she yelled back.

My badger was busily gnawing on one of the alpha’s bones.  “You have any ideas?”

“You idiots probably want more treasure, don’t you?  North,” said Badgelor.

“That was a pretty confident answer,” I said.

“We badgers have a nose for it,” he answered.

Chapter 29: For Johnathan

“Some nose,” muttered Bashara, as we continued walking through the long, seemingly endless halls of the dungeon. 

I continued walking as Shart looked around, bored.  So, you are saying that movies were usually in two dimensions, like a moving picture?”

“Yup,” I replied as we continued walking.  We’d been walking for a while now, and Shart was growing restless.  Really restless.  Him asking about Earth was never a good sign.

“Sometimes they did them in three dimensions?  When they did that, they would have scenes that would only work if you wore special glasses?” questioned Shart.

“Yes,” I continued.

“Well, that doesn’t make any sense at all.  You are basically punishing people who were just trying to watch it the normal way,” groaned the demon. 

“They could use their imagination,” I replied.

“Your imagination is diseased, Dum Dum” grumbled the demon, before retreating further into the recesses of my mind.   He’d taken to hiding out more and more back there, which was just fine by me.  

“Are all dungeons like this?” I asked Bashara.  She frowned. 

“No, but this isn’t entirely out of the norm, either.  Usually, there is a series of connected rooms, like these, but the size of the rooms and the connections are longer here.  If I had to guess, the Source that is located in this dungeon complex is feeding it power.  That is making it bigger.   That power is probably Shadow, Void, or, maybe, Light energy.  Any of those would make the hallways longer than normal,” explained Bashara.

“I was under the impression that lost adventurers fed the dungeon,” I responded.

“Oh, you’re one of those,” she sneered.  “Yes, dead adventures do factor in.  It’s mainly the Source that powers the Dungeon, though.”

“Well, at least she’s useful for something,” muttered Glorious Robert, which earned a look from Bashara.  Without her mind control magic to smooth everything over, she was getting on everyone’s nerves.

“Found something,” said SueLeeta, as she stepped back to the group.  The fact that she said, rather than whispered, spoke volumes about what kind of threat we faced.  Zorlando groaned. 

We turned the corner to see several arcane runes sketched onto the walls and ceiling, each simmering with power.  A glowing magical rune hovered in the middle of the hallway.  Fragments of shattered arrow were spread from the rune to the floor, neatly divided from the space behind it.

“Touch it to see if it's safe,” I chuckled.  SueLeeta frowned.

“I’m not touching it,” she said, sticking out her arm to block Sir Dalton. He totally would have done it.

“That’s what I’m here for,” stated Bashara.  Her eyes began to glow a faint blue color, as she examined the runes.  I, likewise, used my arcane senses to examine the walls and ceiling.  Being able to see the runes didn’t mean much, though, if you couldn’t interpret them.  Even my Arcane Lore wasn’t useful.  The runes were plain as day and clearly spelled out what they were doing.  I just didn’t know what they meant.

I tried using my Trap Finding skill and was a bit more successful.  There was an arcane key of sorts that would allow the glowing rune to be deactivated.  It didn’t feel like a physical object, either. That meant that it would most likely be opened by some sort of spell or command, probably related to these other runes.

Bashara had come to that conclusion long before I did.  She was now pondering the meanings of the runes.  Meanwhile, most everyone else was sitting down, taking a break.  Glorious Robert, Zorlando, and Sir Dalton were all leaning back onto the wall, apparently resting.  Jarra the Healer had her notebook open again, this time reading instead of writing. 

Fenris and SueLeeta were casting about, but they didn’t spot any threats.  They concluded it was time for one of them to get a bit of a rest, as well.  SueLeeta won and sat down next to Sir Dalton.  I reached my hand up and scratched Badgelor on the head, before passing him over to Fenris.  The badger growled at the attention, as well as the hand-off, but refrained from biting anyone. 

“How come I have to play watchdog with Fenris?” groaned Badgelor.

“Yes, we could use a watchdog,” stated Fenris.  SueLeeta nodded.  In moments, she dismissed her stalking cat and summoned a long-eared, perpetually terrified basset hound. 

I took a moment to stretch.  Jarra the Healer stood and walked over to me.  “Is there anything I could help you with?” she asked.

“You are very distracting,” I grinned at her.  She smiled back.  “I think I’m all right for now, unless you want to sneak off somewhere?”

“Too many tales of people sneaking off in dungeons for distractions,” she said softly.  “Not how I’d want to go.”

“I’m sure I could keep you safe,” I said, my dignity affronted.

“That’s what the guy always says, right before he gets speared through the back,” Jarra the Healer chuckled. 

“Ouch,” I replied, thinking back.  “Are you sure?  There was that stream a little while ago where we refilled our canteens.  Perhaps someone needs another refill.”

“Then the monster comes out of the water, drags me down, and then drags you down when you come to save me.  Even if you win, “ she grinned softly, “No hanky panky.”

“Is that what you are proposing?” I asked, scandalized. “I was just talking about a nice, chaste walk.”

“Sure you were.  Let's wait and talk about it after we get out of the dungeon,” she chuckled.  “Take off your chest armor.”  It’s dented, and I can patch it.”

“Really getting mixed signals here,” I responded.  “No hanky panky, but I should get undressed for you.  Are you wanting to check out the merchandise before you buy it?”

“If I am recalling correctly, I’ve already had quite the eyeful of the merchandise,” Jarra said.  “Although, I am assuming you don’t always keep pus next to your low-hanging fruit.”  She blushed delicately, while I went full tomato red.  Ah, yes.  The great pus gathering of the Western Gate Fortress.

“You would be correct in that assumption,” I murmured.

“Your armor is dented, and I can patch it,” she explained.  “Take it off.”

“Yes Ma’am,” I replied, removing the leather straps and pulling the chest piece of my armor off.  I didn’t even need to remove the sleeves.  I couldn't fight sans chest armor, though, so I debated removing them anyway.  I decided against it.  The time involved to completely armor back up was extensive.

Each individual piece of armor I wore mated with all the adjacent pieces, sort of like a few of my favorite old robot shows.  Individually, they were far less impressive.  My sleeves tied into my chest armor, and then large pauldrons were tied in over the top of the seam.  Without the chest piece, the sleeves would slip if I swung my sword.   It was reasonably safe here, so I watched Jarra step away with my gear.  Then, I turned back toward the problem.

Bashara gestured toward me.  After a moment, I walked over to her.  “You discover something?”

“Of course,” she replied with a smirk.  “I’ve seen this kind of arcane lock before.  Those runes can be translated into words.  The problem is that there are multiple groupings of runes, and I’m not sure which one activates the door.  That’s assuming that any of them do.”

“Do you think they might be riddles we have to solve?” I asked.

“Or they could just be gibberish, or they may require a code book to reply to,” grumbled Bashara.  “Wizards offering easy-to-bypass puzzles is a thing in story books.  Another possibility is the need to read the passages in a specific voice.  It could also be something else entirely.   My passwords are all based on celestial bodies, for example.”

“Why tell me that?” I asked.

“Two reasons.  I don’t have anything valuable stored, or as a sign of trust, Jim,” replied Bashara.  “Pick the one you like the best.” 

I looked at her side-eyed.  “What does that one say?” I asked, gesturing toward the nearest group of runes. 

Bashara replied, “It says ‘Lesser leather never weathered wetter weather better’.” 

“It says ‘Lesser leather never weathered wetter weather better’?” I repeated.  “My, that is a mouthful.” 

We both stared at the door for a long moment, but nothing happened.  I shrugged.  Bashara was peering at the door with her arcane vision.  I brought mine up as well.  Now, I could perceive a slight tremor in the pattern. 

“Something happened, just not enough,” Bashara stated.  “This might be the right phrase, but we weren’t speaking it correctly.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

Bashara spoke in a deeper voice, “Lesser leather never weathered wetter weather better.”

“What are you doing?” said Glorious Robert, stepping over.  His naturally deep voice was even lower than Bashara’s.

“Trying to guess the magical phrase that opens the door,” I replied.  I, too, spoke deeper.  “Lesser leather never weathered wetter weather better.” 

Glorious Robert chuckled, cleared his throat, and replied in an even deeper voice, “Lesser leather never weathered wetter weather better.” 

“With your accent?” scoffed Bashara, “No likely.  Sir Dalton, dear, could you come over and repeat after me?”

Bashara explained the situation and Sir Dalton nodded.  Speaking deep and clear, he said, “Lesser leather never weathered wetter weather better.” 

“Lesser leather never weathered wetter weather better,” repeated Fenris, as several pairs of eyes turned toward him.  “I didn’t want to be left out.”

“Nothing,” said Bashara, as the door remained stubbornly closed. 

“Let me try,” Jarra said.  “Perhaps it takes a truly feminine voice to say it.”  The healer looked Bashara up and down.  “Lesser leather never weathered wetter weather better.”  Still nothing. 

Bashara smirked nastily.  “What a surprise.  The commoner once again proves useless.” 

Jarra the Healer drew herself up to her full height, took a deep breath, and was promptly interrupted by Sir Dalton. 

“Maybe it's this one.  What’s it say?” the Knight against.  I shot him a look of thanks for his excellent defusal.  Jarra went back to work on my armor. 

“The sixth sick Sheik’s sixth sheep is sick,” Bashara responded.

We all waited a moment, but nothing happened.  Bashara grumbled and started working on an incantation.  As she finished, several of the earlier gibberish characters suddenly changed into actual words.  A jumbled mess of words, but actual words, nonetheless.  Bashara looked quite pleased with herself.

“What did you just do?” I asked.

“I was able to isolate which words were used in the possible passphrase,” she grinned.  “It has to be a phrase made up of some of these floating words.  We just have to pick the right words and put them in the correct order.”  That still left hundreds of possible choices, but it was a limited data set.  We would eventually find the right one. 

“She sells seashells on the seashore.  The shells she sells are seashells, I’m sure,” said Glorious Robert.  “I’ve heard that one before, at least.”

“Me, too,” replied SueLeeta.  “She sells seashells on the seashore.  The shells she sells are seashells, I’m sure.”

The phrase vanished, and Bashara said, “Nope, no resonance.”

“How about ‘Red Robin, the red river rat, ran right round the rabbit’s rickety rocking chair and rubbed his rosy, rusty, red rump on the rumpled red rug’?” said SueLeeta.  As soon as she finished, the phrase glittered for a moment.  Just as we were getting our hopes up, the words poofed away.

“Perhaps we all need to say it together,” Fenris suggested.

Eight voices rang out, loud and clear, “Red Robin, the red river rat, ran right round the rabbit’s rickety rocking chair and rubbed his rosy, rusty, red rump on the rumpled red rug.”  Still nothing.

“Let I, Zorlando, try, “proclaimed Zorlando.  “The thirty-three thieves thought that they thrilled the throne throughout Thursday.”  His phrase vanished. 

Fenris said, “Six sleek swans swam swiftly southward!”

Sir Dalton found one and declared, “Rory the warrior and Roger the worrier were reared wrongly in a rural brewery!”

Still the rune was intact.  I sent a mental question off to Shart, who just groaned.  “I’m not going to say some hard to pronounce phrase like ‘Brisk brave brigadiers brandished broad bright blades, blunderbusses, and bludgeons, balancing them badly’, so don’t even bother asking.  I doubt they made it such that an elder demon in his chibi form had to say the passphrase anyway.”

“Chibi form?” I groaned.

“I’m cute, ain’t I,” replied Shart, fluttering his non-existent eyelashes.

“By process of elimination, Jarra the Healer must be able to open it,” said Sir Dalton confidently.  That wasn’t how that worked, AT ALL, but damn was he confident. 

Jarra walked back over and handed me my armor.  Then, she turned to the door and said in a loud, clear voice, “Rubber baby buggy bumpers, rubber baby buggy bumpers, rubber baby buggy bumpers!”

“What are those?” said Fenris.  Jarra shrugged. 

Nothing happened.  We continued uttering phrases, one right after another, for nearly an hour.  Finally, Badgelor groaned and lifted up his head.

“Pad kid poured curd pulled cod,” growled Badgelor in Badger.  He then repeated the phrase five more times in rapid succession.  The rune-guarded door suddenly vanished.  “Now, shut your traps. I’m trying to sleep.”

I looked over to Badgelor, impressed.  “Wow, that was amazing!  That’s got to be one of the hardest phrases to pronounce I’ve ever heard, and you did it so quickly so many times!”

“There is no way you could do it twice in a row,” groused Shart.

“Ahem,” began Badgelor, inhaling sharply.

Chapter 30: Deep Thoughts by Sir Dalton

“We’ve gotten past the arcane traps, though,” stated Glorious Robert, giving Bashara the side-eye.  Fenris and Sir Dalton were walking with him, and even Sir Dalton looked apprehensive about the situation.  Bashara, on the other hand, was trying her level best to be completely invisible.  She was failing.

“Probably because she isn’t using magic,” stated Shart from the comfort of my mind.

“Really?” I thought back.  “That doesn’t seem like her.”

“We could eat her now,” stated Badgelor.  “I could just hop over there for a quick snack.  No one would stop me.”

“Not as long as she is part of the party and behaving,” I retorted, but I lacked any real emphasis behind the words.  Bashara was lucky that no one else was likely to need the treasures she could use.  That fact had led to the assumption that her general untrustworthy nature wasn’t going to screw over someone else. 

However, since she had been in the dungeon, she’d been a model party member.  Sure, she had shot Jarra the Healer a few barbs, but that was tame compared to how manipulative and tricky she could be.  It was almost as if the Wizard was daring me to act against her, given her total lack of provocation at the moment.  Bashara was complicated and untrustworthy, but, as Shart had pointed out, she was unlikely to be some sort of super villain. 

I glanced over at her.  She smiled at me prettily and waved a bit before continuing to walk, scanning the corridors for threats.  Jarra frowned at the exchange and moved a pace closer to me.  The healer’s gaze returned to SueLeeta.  The archer was ranging forward.  In actuality, she was far enough away that there wasn’t much of anything Jarra could do to aid her, if push came to shove. 

Sir Dalton had fallen back from the group, now walking by himself.  He was scanning the area carefully, but he more or less seemed to be glumly walking forward.  I thought about walking over to talk to him, but then I remembered I could mentally communicate with him. 

“Sir Dalton,” I thought, through the party communication system, “Why so glum?”

“I’m not in the mood for this now, brain,” replied Sir Dalton.

Sir Dalton had interesting internal conversations between various parts of his anatomy.  His brain and gut seemed to be the main “voices.”  Fortunately, I had a tried and true method of conversing with Dalton. 

I pitched my voice higher.  “Dalton, this is your gut.  I think we should talk about it.”

“I think not,” growled Sir Dalton.  “We are not on speaking terms after what you just did!”

Sir Dalton had always trusted his gut before.  Now, I was even more curious.  I pitched my voice lower and tried again.

“Sir Dalton, it is I, your elbow.  Do you want to talk?” I asked.

There was a long pause.  Just as I decided the Knight wasn’t actually that stupid, I received a gasping sob through the connection.  “Oh, elbow, I don’t know who to trust anymore!”

“What happened?” I, as his elbow, continued.

“Well, as you know, I ‘ve always trusted my gut before.  Yet, when we got into the dungeon it started asking me about the Drak-ish.  We talked for a moment, and I decided I should do a gut check about Jarra the Healer.”

“That sounds reasonable,” I replied, running my mind back to the battle with the Drak-ish.

“When I did, my gut told me to give up on Jarra the Healer.  She has her heart set on another,” said Dalton hotly.  “Isn’t that ridiculous?   Of course, I knew my gut was lying to me.  Look at me! I’m Sir Dalton!”

“That is true,” I replied.  “You are Sir Dalton.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, elbow.  You are part of the mighty carriage of Sir Dalton,” continued the very humble Knight.

“Good point,” I continued.  “Have you talked to anyone about this?”

“Wouldn’t you know?  You are my elbow, after all,” replied Sir Dalton questioningly.

“Um, I, uh, don’t have ears,” I reached. 

“Oh, so sorry, of course” replied Sir Dalton.  “Well, I talked to SueLeeta about it, and she agreed.  She also thinks I should find another woman.  Someone who likes being around me.  Someone that I have fun with.  Someone who’s interested in me, and the like.”

“So. someone like SueLeeta?” I asked.

“Like SueLeeta?” repeated Sir Dalton.  “Elbow, you have a lot to learn about women.  She’s a powerful Chosen.  She’s hardly interested in a Knight from the sticks, like myself. ”

“That’s why you are so interested in Jarra the Healer?  You’re settling?” ‘elbow’ replied.

“No, I’m not settling.  Jarra the Healer is a fine woman,” said Sir Dalton contemplatively.  “But SueLeeta is not going to be interested in someone like me.  I am a single father with ten daughters.  She isn’t going to want to be tied down.  SueLeeta can do much better than me.”

“I think you might be wrong,” I said and left the Knight to his own mind.  If I had even briefly considered the direction this conversation had gone, I would have kept my mind shut.  Then, I considered who else might have been in mental communication with Sir Dalton.  Who knew he talked to himself and could have caused this rift with his gut in the first place? 

After considering Bashara for a moment, I ruled her out.  She liked manipulating people, but this didn’t fit her motive of screwing everyone over.  It was almost like SueLeeta had used the party communication system herself, in her higher pitched voice. 

Oh, shit.

Realizing that, I filled in the rest of the blanks easily enough.  SueLeeta had contacted Sir Dalton during the battle for some innocent reason, and he thought it was his gut talking to him.  She then went down the path near and dear to her heart and walked into that pile of worms. 

“What are you blathering on about?” asked Shart.

“Relationships are complicated,” I said, glancing between the melancholy Sir Dalton and the tigress of a Hunter, SueLeeta. 

SueLeeta arrived at a junction and abruptly stopped.  Stepping back a pace, she shook her head, “Nope.”  The rest of the party stopped, as well, several paces behind SueLeeta.  She had her weapon in hand but was not seeking out a target.  I broke from the group and walked over, so I could look down the hall. 

I had that instant feeling of dread.  The hair on the back of my neck stood up, as I looked down the hallway.  The formerly broad passageway had regressed to a small entrance that was on the low end of man-sized.  There were a few shafts of light running through the hallway, but they were so dim that I wouldn’t have noticed them without my Perception skill.   “This has to be a trap,” I stated, as I examined the changes. 

Most of the passages we had been down were rectangular, or squarish.  This hallway was square on top, but the bottom was circular.  Plus, it was much smaller than the previous passages.  Calling those other areas hallways was just not doing them justice.  Here, I could have reached my hands straight out and touched both sides of the hallway at points.  “I mean, it has to be a massive boulder that runs down this track and crushes everyone,” I continued.

“Maybe some liquid,” said SueLeeta, looking at me oddly. 

“Liquid would go down this thing just fine, even if it was square,” I countered.  She shrugged. 

“I guess,” she finally responded, “But what’s up with you and boulders?  I was figuring something like a pit, or maybe wall spikes.”

“Or darts shooting from the walls,” I said, nodding.

“Wait, what?” asked SueLeeta.  “Why would you think that darts would shoot from the walls?”

“I don’t know.  I just get a solid impression that this would be a good place for them,” I stated.

“Think I should get Bashara?” asked SueLeeta, as I continued peering down the hallway.

“Na, I’ll just go on ahead.  You guys follow up in a bit,” I announced, before clambering through the entrance.  SueLeeta shrugged, watching me for a long moment.  Then, she turned around to gather up the rest of the party.

I started strolling down the hallway without a care in the world.

“What are we doing here?” asked Shart.

“We are avoiding traps,” I responded. 

Shart frowned, as I ducked and twisted around.  “I’m not even detecting any traps.”

Grumbling, I grabbed an empty potion vial and tossed it into one of the streams of light.  Instantly, a spike shot up from the floor, impaling the air that the bottle had occupied.  “Child’s play.”

Shart stared at me incredulously.  “Look, Dum Dum, I’m impressed when a monkey finds a banana, just like anyone else.  How did you know that was a trap?  I can tell your Trap Finding isn’t even triggering.”

“It’s just too obvious,” I replied, focusing on the point where the spike came out.  Now that I had a reference point, dozens more popped up from the ground.  I sent a message over to SueLeeta.  She could use her scouting prowess to avoid them, now that she was aware of them. 

I got a mental buzz from her that could best be interpreted as “annoyed.” 

As we continued, carefully avoiding the splashes of light, Badgelor began snoring loudly.  “You know, he does trust you a little,” commented Shart.  I was so startled by the comment that I almost lost my balance and brushed into the light.

I recovered quickly, “Maybe.” Badgelor was a tricky little critter.  When he wasn’t in full murder mode, he generally used me more than asked for my help.  Then again, his personality might be best described as ‘murderer of Charles’, with all other points being secondary. 

Bringing up my Path tab, I checked to see that I still needed to raise Badgelor’s attitude to Friendly.  Then, I could take the next step on my Path. 

“What exactly happens when I become a Beast Lord?” I asked, as we reached a break in the hallway that led into another chamber. 

“What happens when you advance on your Path to ultimate enlightenment, Dum Dum?” chuckled Shart.  “Well, first off, Badgelor will grow even stronger.  The Beast Lord Path is mainly about further enhancing your companion.  It's not going to do shit for you.”

“Joy,” I decided, “And I’m stuck with it?”

“Well, you can technically break a Path and try to take a new one.  There tends to be a large reputation hit, though,” said Shart, pointedly looking toward Badgelor. 

“So, he’s an angry git and won’t be friends with me, but if I break the Path he’ll know I broke it?” I groaned.

“He’ll know you betrayed him,” stated Shart.

“Charles, you son of a bitch!  You betrayed me, and I’ll hunt you to the ends of the world,” growled Badgelor in his sleep. 

“Yup, I think I put fifty cents in the music box, and now I’m going to have to listen to the whole tune,” I said.

“Whatever passes for language in your world must be atrocious,” said Shart. shaking his head. “I don’t think any of those words made sense.”

I hopped over a crack in the ground, landing safely on the other side.  It was only about four logs wide, barely worth the notice.

“If I had a whip, I could have swung over,” I said, gesturing toward a large root that had grown out of the wall. 

“Why in the hell would you do that?” grumbled Shart, as we entered the next chamber. 

The final chamber was actually pretty straight forward.  There was a small dais made of sandstone in the middle of the room with a little golden statue.  The floor was a combination of rocks and moss, and the entire room stank.  The smell of old rot seemed to scream of danger.

“There are dart traps on the floor and some sort of idol in the middle of the room,” I said confidently.

“That’s moronic.  The darts would hit the souls of your boots,” said Shart.

“No, the triggers are on the floor.  They shoot out of tubes in the walls,” I said.  “I’ve seen this place before.”

“Really?” asked Shart incredulously.  “Exactly where have you seen this place before?”

“In an old movie,” I said, looking around.  “It was in an old adventure movie.  The room is not an exact replica, mind you, but it's a respectable copy.”

“Well then, please, move on,” commented Shart. 

I sent a mental message back to SueLeeta and then started carefully walking on the stone bits of the floor, careful to avoid the dirt patches.  It took me only a few moments to get to the dais.  In the middle of the platform was a large pile of dirt.

“So, where’s the idol?” asked Shart.  I grumbled before yanking Shart off my shoulder and pointing him toward the dirt.  “What the hell are you doing?”

I pulled my hand back and delivered a powerful slap to Shart’s ass, causing the little zit to pop.  Well, more like yell really indignantly for several seconds.  That yelling was enough to blast most of the dust off of the dais, revealing a large golden idol.

“See,” I said, gesturing. 

“Well, Dum Dum, it looks like you figured something out,” grumbled Shart, returning to my shoulder.  His eyes grew wider and more hopeful.  “Are we going to take it?”

“Fuck, no!  That’s a trap,” I said, gesturing toward the other side of the room.  I hopped off the dais and continued walking, noticing two sets of tracks in the ceiling of the room.  A quick hop and a jump later, I was to the other side and searching for a doorway. 

“Shart, can you pop through the wall here and find out where the door should be?” I asked.

Shart grumbled but vanished, only to return a moment later.  “It looks like the chasm room we just passed on the other side, but bigger.”

“Bigger?” I asked.

“Looks like that side has some structural damage,” added Shart.  “These old dungeons tend to grow and shrink over time.  This one got a bunch longer on that side.”

“Did you see a mechanism for opening the door?” I asked. 

There was a loud click and a small, concealed doorway opened up.  I pushed it aside and turned back to yell for SueLeeta, forgetting about the mental communication for an instant.  I needn't have bothered.  She was already past the dais and walking carefully toward me, avoiding the non-rock spots on the floor.

“Easy peasy,” I said, grinning.

That’s when Dalton walked by and snatched the idol.  “Hey, Jim, you forgot to pick up the treasure.”

“I left it because it was a trap,” I groaned.  Sir Dalton’s eyes went wide, as everyone around him took a step away from him.

“Why didn’t you warn me?” he bellowed.

“I shouldn’t have to warn you about obvious traps,” I called back.  The floor began to shake. 

“Boulder,” yelled SueLeeta and gestured up to the track in the ceiling.  Her eyes went wide as the massive stone began rolling toward her.  “How did you know it was a boulder, Jim?”

Everyone saw the massive boulder at the same moment.  Since everyone was past the halfway mark, they started running toward my small doorway.  I unceremoniously dove through.  I didn’t have any other options. 

“Jim, the door,” yelled Shart, and I looked over the chasm.  There was another doorway that was rapidly closing.  I didn’t have any time to waste, so I leapt over the twenty log-wide chasm and landed on the other side before rolling into place underneath the collapsing doorway. 

I put my back into it, and the door stopped closing. 

Glorious Robert and Bashara cleared the door first, both spotting the chasm and leaping over it.  It was then that I realized a problem.  If I moved, the door would shut, but Jarra couldn’t make the jump.  She stepped out next, pausing for an instant.  She handed something small over to Zorlando.  Both drank wherever she had before they both ran to the edge and leapt.  Fenris brought up the rear, but not before allowing Badgelor to attach himself to the Warden’s back.

Both easily cleared the gap, landing next to me.  Zorlando tossed his empty potion vial and Jarra caught it neatly.  She thrust both vials back into her pouch of empties.  Then, they both crawled under me, as I attempted to hold the door. 

SueLeeta was over next, then Sir Dalton, who handed me the idol as he landed.  “Sorry.”  I managed to pull myself free just before the weight of the entire dungeon threatened to crush my spine.  As I got to the other side of the door, I heard a solid thud as the boulder slammed into the now closed doorway.

●        Gullible Monkey's head: Value 5000 GP.

“It's not even valuable, just expensive,” I groaned, throwing it into my expanded extradimensional storage.  I began stretching, listening to my vertebrae pop back into their sockets.  Badgelor took that moment to scurry up to his normal spot on my shoulder, having been inconvenienced by me holding the door.

“You could have helped,” I grumbled.

“You got this!  I believe in you, or some such,” mumbled the badger, who curled into a ball and went back to sleep. 

Chapter 31: The Dark Altar

“Okay, finally, I think we found the treasure,” said SueLeeta.  She wore a stern expression, as we both sat back down with the group. 

After the journey so far, we had decided to take a break before the next chamber.  That would give Jarra the opportunity to tend to a few wounds, and everyone could get a bite to eat.  I hadn’t anticipated how taxing traveling through a dungeon could be. 

The buzz of threats around at all times was really draining.  Finding a spot where you might be safe was worth taking a break at.  We had found an indentation in one of the passage walls with a small fire pit in the middle.  We were using that now to warm our food.  Dalton was leaning back against a rock and snoring slightly.  I kicked his boot as I walked past, and he snorted himself awake. 

SueLeeta sat down and brought up the party map, which sprang to life in front of her.  Only we party members could actually see it, though, as it was tied to her role as scout.  The room was large and somewhat rectangular, but it had literally cracked in two, with us on the larger side.

“This room must be where the floor boss is,” stated Bashara with confidence.  Zorlando steeled himself, as Jarra hammered into his armored shoulder several times.  A large ping sounded, and the armor seemed to magically repair itself. 

We were looking rather miserable, all things said and done.  It had been a rough slog getting here.  While none of the encounters after the first room had been nearly as challenging, there had been many.  Sir Dalton and Glorious Robert had both taken good hits.  Fenris had been tanking, and, if we hadn’t found a better shield in the last chamber, he would have been without one at all.  His old shield had shattered mid-battle with the Drak-ish. 

Bashara’s robe had a huge, bloody gash along one side. SueLeeta had been knocked senseless, and even Jarra had been injured.  Thankfully, the healer’s wounds weren’t severe.  She had just been slapped around a bit while covering SueLeeta. 

On the other hand, Badgelor and I were still entirely intact.  Nothing like fighting for your life to get your act together, I supposed. 

“Some of us are for more than looking pretty, Jim,” chuckled Glorious Robert, as he saw me examine the party.  “You are a good kite, but you tend to stay out of danger.”

Most of my action had occurred away from the party.  That had led to some grumbling that I wasn’t holding my weight as much as the others. 

“The monsters all seem to be located on the far side.  They are praying around some sort of dark altar.  I think the actual floor boss is at the front of the group, leading the prayer,” stated SueLeeta. 

“That altar is where the treasure is,” I said confidently.  My Explorer’s Nose was going wild with the smell of treasure.  Everything we had found so far was little more than trinkets compared to what was going to be in that chest. 

Bashara nodded and continued looking at the map.  “Whatever he is chanting is causing a large amount of Shadow to accumulate in the room.”

“Shadow?” asked Sir Dalton.  “I thought it was just dark in there.”

Bashara groaned.  “Shadow magic!  He’s generating Shadow magic.  It's another advanced magic type.  There is a field of it in there.  That’s why her other stupid pet died.”

Sir Dalton glanced around and then nodded.  “I was just clarifying to make sure everyone else understood.”

SueLeeta grinned to herself before quickly masking it.  She made her face expressionless, as she got back down to business.  “The only strange thing I found was a large number of goblin tracks moving through the crack.”

“How did they get in here?” asked Fenris.  “Do you think there is a pocket of them in one of the chambers?”

“I doubt it,” said SueLeeta.  “When I was probing around, I found some discarded foodstuffs that included materials from the valley.  They were migrating through here.”

“The Altar of Shadows,” I said, gesturing.  “Maybe where they were turning goblins into Shadow Goblins.”

Everyone turned to face Bashara, who looked thoughtful.  “I could see that.  Yes, it’s at least possible.  They would have had to sacrifice at least one goblin to empower the Shadow Goblin, though.”

“They did mention heavy casualties during the process to create Shadow Goblins,” I said, trying to remember the exact conversation.  “I believe they also said they couldn’t bring Wargs down here.”  The crack ran from floor to ceiling and seemed to have pulled the room apart.  It was possible to climb, if one really had the desire to do so, but I couldn’t see Kappa pulling it off.  He also wasn’t stupid enough to trust a bunch of goblins to lower him down, either.

“Can you see the bottom?” asked Fenris.  SueLeeta concentrated for a moment before shaking her head.  She was now level 17.  For her new perk, she had chosen something that let her see through the eyes of her hunting companion. 

“No, Bait can’t see the bottom,” she stated, pointing to where her newest hunting pet was located.  This one was a large rat named Bait.  I had initially questioned her choice of a rat, but a hawk, a large hound, or a massive hunting cat were all far more obvious than the little rodent.  Bait had been noticed by at least some of the undead around the altar, but they hadn’t reacted to him.  That was even better than my Hide in Plain Sight perk, as far as I was concerned. No one and nothing that mattered was exposed to any danger.

“Probably dispose of the corpses down there,” stated Glorious Robert.  “Have Bait knock a rock down.  See if he can hear it land.”

After thirty seconds passed, SueLeeta just shrugged.  “It's deep.”

“Okay, so we can’t get a solid reading on the Shadow Priest through your rat,” I said, checking off points.  “We know there is treasure there, though.  We also know that us just sneaking around to get a better look will likely get us spotted through the Shadow magic field in the room.”

“If Bait hasn’t died yet, I’ve got a potion for everyone that should work.  It will prevent the Shadow field from slowly killing us,” stated Jarra the Healer.  Her portable alchemy station finished its work, spitting out eight doses of some sort of shadow resistance potion.

“One second, the potion is starting to wear out,” said SueLeeta, concentrating.  “The hole is at least 300 feet deep, and I still couldn’t see the bottom.”  She began summoning another pet, as I quietly mourned Bait.  Your sacrifice was not in vain, furry missile. 

“Well, how do we get over it?” I asked, surveying the room.  There were some short columns on our side of the crack, but the crack was over fifteen logs wide.  None of the columns on this side looked like they were in very good condition, unlike the two massive pillars on the other side of the crack.

“Could we knock down one of the big pillars?” asked Fenris, gesturing across the chasm.

I activated my Improvised Tools and looked at the pillar.  It's durability was low enough that we might be able to do something.  “We’d have to use Explosive Damage.”

“I could do a Multi Shot combined with Explosive Shot at it and then guzzle a Stamina potion,” stated SueLeeta.  “Any idea where I should shoot it?”

Triggering my Engineering skill, I examined both pillars.  The pillar on the right had a fairly decent point on it.  It would probably be able to span the distance between both sides of the crack.  The pillar on the left was in much better shape, but, if enough Damage was applied at the right spot, it might also fall onto the correct path.  I shared the weak points with the party. 

“Engineering, too?” asked Bashara, eyeing me critically.  “We are going to have to have a long talk when this is over.”

Glorious Robert coughed and gestured toward the room.  “So, the treasure is in there.  All we have to do is run across a stone pillar to get at it?”

“Not quite,” stated Bashara.  “The Shadow Priest over there is going to stop us, if we aren’t prepared.”

“I think I can face him in battle, Lady Bashara,” stated Sir Dalton affronted.

“No, I don’t think you could.  He will have enough magic ready to just push you off the pillar,” she said confidently.  “It would be simple enough, and it's what I would do.”

“That would be dishonorable,” retorted the Knight.

“He’s actively consorting with powers that want to corrupt the world.  I don’t think honor is high on his list of priorities,” she replied.  Sir Dalton opened his mouth to respond, but even his limited intellect was able to see the issue. 

“Not all of us need to use the pillar to get over,” I said, looking around.  “I can get across without it.  Anyone else?”

Fenris shook his head, “Jim, that’s at least fifteen logs.  Even if I could make it, I’d be blown out on Stamina when I got there.”  Several other party members nodded, including SueLeeta.

“I don’t think I can manage it, Jim,” the Hunter said, thinking.  “I might attempt to make the jump, if it was a matter of life or death, but it's just on the edge of what I can do,” she stated.  “Besides, I’m ranged support.  You really need a caster.”

Bashara looked at the altar on the map for a long moment.  “Yes, well, I’m a caster, and I can make the jump.  I’ll go over with Jim, and he can cover me while I stall the Shadow Priest.”

“Any chance you can take him?” asked Fenris.  He asked it in a matter-of-fact manner that turned the statement into a simple question, not a challenge. 

Bashara turned to examine him for a moment, then shook her head.  “No, all I will be doing is delaying him while you guys cross the bridge.  The more of those undead minions you can take out, the better.”

“I was asking Jim,” said Fenris diplomatically, causing Bashara’s eyes to widen.

“Unknown, I haven’t had to engage that powerful of a magical opponent before.  Last time, I did manage to beat a wizard that was supposed to be considerably stronger than myself,” I said, as Bashara choked.  She inhaled sharply.

“I believe the last several times we got into magical duels, I was able to whip you rather soundly,” she said acidly.

“You think I’d fight with only magic now?” I asked.  The fire behind her eyes faded for a moment, as she considered that.  She opened and shut her mouth, then nodded. 

“Any tricks with the party menu?” asked SueLeeta.  I pondered it.  Reviewing the party menu, I saw we had earned a few more Party Points.  A quick examination of the Undead Fighting tree and the Shadow Resistant tree showed that those options were out of my price range.  I did see a few party roles, though, such as Striker and Tank. 

Strikers were damage dealers and Tanks were tanks.  I considered both options briefly.  Making Sir Dalton or Glorious Robert a Striker would increase their Damage output, while making Fenris a Tank would boost his survivability.  Considering AvaSophia, I decided to make Fenris the Tank.  He was already in the thick of it.  Making him harder to kill would mean more monsters spending more time trying to do just that. 

As I unlocked the Tank role, I noticed a new role pop up.  I could get around level restrictions with Unbound, but many of the party perks were blocked by more than level requirements. 

●        Champion: You will stand in front of your companions.  You are superior in all ways!  Bonus to Damage, Defense, Resistance and skills.  Enemies are far more likely to target you when they attack.

That one was obvious.  It was designed for a higher-level character that wanted to run with a lower-level party.  It gave a person lots of bonuses but also put a huge target on their back.  I thought about it for a moment before moving on.  I didn’t have the points, anyway.

Fenris was balling his fists.  “I feel great!  I’m honored that you have chosen to give me the role of Tank.”

“I'm curious as to why you don’t have more roles unlocked,” stated Sir Dalton.

“I don’t party much,” I said.  It was true, at least.

Glorious Robert just nodded.  “Well, we should be unlocking roles left and right.  Put me in for a Striker or a Second Tank, when you unlock one of them.”

I nodded.  “Are we ready, then?”

Sir Dalton stood up, his massive sword propped on his shoulder.  He took a handful of potions from Jarra.  Grinning wildly, he exclaimed, “This will be amazing!”

“I, Zorlando, will fight in a battle as if an adventurer,” professed Zorlando, also taking a handful of potions. 

“I have toys for you,” I said, handing out a Thingamabob to each party member.  “They explode.”  Glorious Robert eyed his carefully and then slipped it into his dimensional storage.  Sir Dalton pulled out a length of cord and tied it around his sword guard, just low enough that using the blade might not set it off. 

There were no more declarations, as the rest of the group got ready to move.  Jarra handed me three vials.  She was wearing an expression somewhere between her hard look and something slightly more mischievous.  “I made these extra strong for you.”

Glancing around, I saw Sir Dalton drinking one of his.  I popped the corks and grinned at her.  “Bottoms up.”  To Jarra’s horror, I drank all three at once.  They hit me like a sledgehammer. 

●        You have learned about the skill, Potion Miscibility.  You are unskilled.  There is a special skill to be this stupid.

●        Potion Miscibility check: successful.  You have suffered a 10% temporary Hit Point reduction for the next 4 hours from imbibing 3 potions at once.  You have gained +25% on all potion effects for the next 10 minutes. 

“Are you crazy?” gasped Jarra, as I shook off the wave of nausea.  “You can’t drink three buff potions at once!  You have to spread them out.”

“Noted,” I stated, feeling all the effects wash over me. 

●        Potion of Shadow Resistance: You will ignore the first 13 (base 10) points of Shadow Damage from any attack for 30 minutes.

●        Potion of Enhanced Combat Power: Your primary combat attribute is increased by one level.  Your primary combat attribute is <error> Strength, Spirit, Dexterity, Endurance, Willpower.  +1.25 to all attributes for the next 10 minutes. 

●        Potion of Boundless Stamina: Plus 125 (base 100) Stamina for 20 minutes.

I felt incredible.  It was like every fiber of my being was doused in power!  Every bit of me bathed in radiance and was forged, anew.  Nothing would stand against me!

I felt like I was going to throw up.  Whatever I’d drank was mixing about as well as pudding and vodka. 

“You moron,” said Shart.

“Shut up, it was a great plan,” I retorted mentally.  Opening my mouth was absolutely out of the question.

We all filed into the room as quietly as possible.  The shadow field, along with the accompanying chanting, would have revealed our presence by causing direct Damage.  As we were currently resistant to that Damage, we were able to creep, untroubled, into our starting positions on our side of the chasm. 

“We can go as soon as you are ready,” stated Bashara, smiling at me nervously.

“Ladies first,” I replied, watching the mass of undead shift around.

“I think you should go first,” said Bashara.

Badgelor adjusted his position on my shoulder, turning and growling at her.  I glanced over as Bashara began losing the color in her face.  After a moment, I said, “I don’t exactly trust you to follow me over.  You know I’ll follow you.”

“That’s. . .” began Bashara, while continuing to look at me and Badgelor.  Finally sighing, “That’s fair.”

Bashara quickly wove her Feather Fall spell and leapt over the chasm.  Given the speed she was traveling, she would never have come close to making it with the effects of normal gravity.  With her spell, she would make it over safely, physics be damned.  Then, quite unexpectedly, the chanting stopped.

The low reverberation of chanting had filled the hall since before we entered it.  When Bashara was more than halfway across the chasm, the room became deathly silent.  The only sound quickly became the clinking of Sir Dalton’s armor.

“Intruders!” shrieked the Shadow Priest.  His hands became surrounded by a web of darkness. 

Then, everything happened at once.  The Shadow Priest let fly with a Shadow Lance toward Bashara.  I threw out a blast of BioLightning, while I leapt over the chasm.  SueLeeta fired off her Explosive Multi Shot into the base of the pillar, and the world shook.  The nearby undead around the altar all turned to where the pillar would most likely land, instead of rushing toward Bashara and myself.  I didn’t know if that boded well or poorly. 

Bashara threw up a Fire barrier, which took the Priest’s hit well enough.  However, it also caused her to slow as she crossed the chasm.  The Shadow Priest deflected my spell with his off-hand, his two red, malevolent eyes glaring at me.  The pillar took SueLeeta’s shots like a champ, swaying ever so slightly from the impacts.

“Did that do any damage to the pillar?” I asked Shart, as I flew through the air.

“Of course it did!  See, it says so right. . .“ began Shart, before cutting himself off.  “Wow, that is one well-built pillar.”

“I was expecting more,” I said.

“Your plans are always terrible,” thought Shart, as I landed on the other side.  I immediately rushed straight toward the Shadow Priest.  He was nearly thirty feet from the ledge, at the altar.  Two massive, armored skeletons stood between us, armed with maces and wickedly sharp shields.  At his motion, both skeletons charged toward me. 

I was acting in my Mage capacity.  As the skeletons closed, I threw Mana into a Biological Aeromancy barrier.  I successfully deflected the strike of one, while parrying the other.  The combined might of the creatures was enough to force me back a pace, before I got my legs under me.  It didn’t matter.  I was simply the distraction.

Badgelor leapt off my shoulder and past both the Priest’s bodyguards.  As he flew through the air, he expanded to his massive Ultimate form.  One of the skeletons attempted to turn around, but I executed a Hack and Slash, keeping their attention on me.  Badgelor headed straight toward the caster.

Suddenly, one of the armored skeletons swung at me, knocking my barrier aside in a feat of superhuman speed.  I didn’t have any more time to spend on my companion. 

●        Death Knight - Level 24 Undead Guardian

●        Sword and Board: This abomination was constructed to battle with a weapon and a shield

●        HP: 320/320

●        Stamina: 400/400

●        Mana: 20/20

●        Shadow Aura: Residual Shadow Energies surround the Death Knight, sapping the life force of nearby living creatures.

This doesn’t bode well.   I weighed my options as both Death Knights began attacking me in tandem.  It was worse than I initially feared, as they seemed to be overwhelmingly aware of how the other one fought.  Even with all my potions and recent skill upgrades, I was hard pressed to keep them at bay.  Both struck with a tidal wave of force that I was challenged to defend myself against.  I winced as a slash hammered into my side, the blade moving faster than I could track. 

●        You have suffered 47 points of Damage from various sword strikes.  You have resisted all Shadow Damage from Death Knights.

I had several shallow cuts on my body from other successful strikes, but I had given almost as good as they gave.  Well, sort of.  I’d hit them a few times.  Seriously, anyone who underestimates the utility of a shield is an asshole.  The only parts one managed to attack me with were his very heavily-armored arms.  Those attacks were brief, as the other one attempted to push me back with his shield. 

Then, one skeleton screwed up.  As he lunged forward, he exposed his shoulder.  I activated my Riposte talent.  That talent allowed me to make a perfectly executed counterattack.

●        Riposte: You have stuck with a Riposte causing 67 points of Damage to the Death Knight.

I felt a tremendous impact on my chest.  I was unexpectedly lifted into the air and sent flying toward the chasm.  The second Death Knight had timed his move brilliantly.  When I was counter attacking his friend, he was in position to crush my guts. 

●        Airborne Control activated. You can adjust your position by up to 4 logs in any direction. Cost 32 Stamina

The push was enough that I had to perform a superhero landing, just shy of the edge of the chasm.  Glancing around, I could see SueLeeta fire a second volley of exploding arrows into the pillar, causing it to wobble even more.  Despite the Damage, it still remained upright.  I groaned.  It would take her even longer to prepare a third volley, due to the Stamina potion cooldown. 

Strangely, Sir Dalton was sitting at the edge of the chasm, calmly eating eggs. 

Badgelor had the Shadow Priest pinned to the ground and was ripping off chunks of the undead monster.  My War Badger’s talents and perks were lined up almost perfectly, making him the ultimate magical tank.  However, against that abomination, even he was being sorely tested. 

Suddenly, one of the Death Knights grabbed Badgelor by the scruff of his neck and threw him off the Shadow Priest.  That feat of strength was impressive, considering Badgelor, in his current size, weighed nearly as much as a horse.  The badger flipped through the air, landing on all four paws.  Snarling with drool, he yelled, “Jim, you fecker, get over here!”

Bashara nodded as I rushed forward, her arms glowing in a nimbus of fire.  I activated Thrust against one of the Death Knights, just as the Wizard launched a massive Fireball at the Shadow Priest. 

The explosion shattered the ground, as my sword slammed into the Death Knight’s armor.  The creature was knocked back a pace.  Now that it wasn’t two-on-one, I managed to strike several more times in quick succession.  The skeleton recovered its footing and launched a counterattack, smashing through my guard and into my shoulder. 

I executed Hack and Slash, crashing into the creature four times.  His hand snapped into place around my wrist, as he released his mace.  The Shadow magic flowing into my wrist caused my barrier to wink out.  Grunting, he flung me around to the side, trying to pull me into the air. 

●        Mitigate Activated: You have used Mitigate to prevent 4 logs of movement to your person.  Cost 16 Stamina.

I stayed put.  The glowing red eyes of the undead seemed to consider me for a moment.  He relented and tried to tear my rapidly numbing arm free.  At the same time, he tried to hack the limb off with the sharp edge of his shield.  As he swung the bladed shield down, I struck it with my sword. It knocked into his arm with a mighty crunch. 

It did not sever his limb, only broke it.  I found it beyond odd to see a broken, skinless bone.  Meanwhile, numbness continued flowing into my arm, creating a hot, pins-and-needles sensation.  My muscles were rapidly failing.

“What are you doing, Dum Dum?” questioned Shart, as he peered from behind my eyeballs.

“Losing.  Any suggestions?” I asked, striking away the monster’s blade twice more in rapid succession.

“Well, you are being filled full of Shadow energy.  It’s a shame you don’t have any Life energy to counteract that,” replied the demon.

“The gizmo?” I asked, remembering the nearly broken magical gizmo we’d found in the Fecking Puma Forest.

“No, you nimrod!  Your Biological Aeromancy,” shouted the demon. 

I struck away the Death Knight’s sword again.  “He just broke through my barrier!”

“Did you put Stamina into it?” asked Shart.  Dear God, I am a Dum Dum. 

My barrier snapped back into existence, now powered by Mana and Stamina.  It cut into the skeletal hand grabbing my wrist, severing the tendril of Shadow that was flowing into me.  My arm, nearly useless moments before, suddenly felt hale again.  I started pressing on the Death Knight. 

A few moments before, I’d seen one of those things throw Badgelor aside like a bag of cement.  My arm pressed forward, and the Death Knight struggled for an instant.  Then, slowly and against his will, I forced him back, pace by pace.

Suddenly, his hand shattered, causing him to stumble backward.  I advanced, swinging.  He blocked my sword strike, but his own chest was exposed.  I folded my barrier over my fist and punched the Death Knight.

●        Punch, Unarmed strike using Biological Aeromancy Barrier: Strong vs Shadows, Strong vs Undead: Total Damage (22, Base Damage 40 points) , Knockback based on Strength 2 logs (7 logs -2 size -3 mitigate)

As the creature fell backward, I leapt into the air.  He landed as I hit the apex of my jump.  I began crashing down on him in a Falling Star Strike.  The Death Knight’s glowing, red eyes flared for an instant.  I slammed into him with enough force to cause the pillar to further crack. 

“See, you should have picked this one,” said Shart.  “It's already falling apart.”

Snarling, I looked up to see Badgelor handling his own Death Knight.  They were slightly obscured by a stream of Shadow energy flowing from the Shadow Priest to Bashara.  She was encased in a bright blue barrier, that the Shadow was slowly eating through.  I could sense her counterspelling the attack, but she was losing the battle. 

Another string of explosions lit up the pillar.  I heard SueLeeta swearing loudly as fragments scattered over the field. 

“That old pillar was really well-constructed,” stated Shart.

The two dozen undead that the Shadow Priest had left standing by the altar were now moving toward me.  Bashara’s magical movements grew more frantic as part of her barrier was compromised.

I reached out with my own Counterspell skill and struck at the middle of the Shadow stream.  Suddenly, there was a popping sound at the end, and the stream evaporated.  Bashara dropped to her knees and fell forward into the dirt, her Hit Points nearly depleted.

The Shadow Priest reared back, laughing.  “You fools!  You cannot challenge the power of Darkness himself!”

“Well, you’re fucked,” stated Shart.  “Jump to the other side, and leave Badgelor to his death.  He’s a jerk anyway.” 

I inhaled once sharply as the Shadow Priest looked first at me then Badgelor as if to determine who he should kill next.  I didn’t give him the choice, focusing my mana into three symbols per hand I formed the most powerful BioLightning bolt I could manage.  As the spell completed, I brought my hands together, and I was holding onto a glowing green orb of flickering lightning. 

“Why, he’s already got his barrier up,” said Shart, gesturing toward the Shadow Priest.  “It's well over the maximum limit of what you can manage with this.”

“I’m not aiming at him,” I declared, pivoting to the side and unleashing the energy at the weak spot in the pillar.  The BioLightning tore into the column, knocking away large hunks of stone and further weakening the column.  Pieces of debris rained down, nearly hitting several skeletons. 

“Well fuck,” I said, as the pillar stayed upright. 

“Wow, they could really build pillars back in the old days,” said Shart.  “I think it was the materials.  That’s Prime Marble.”

“Focus, you little shit!” I yelled, as I stared as the pillar, willing it to fall. 

The Shadow Priest began to laugh, “Is that it?”

Yanking a Thingamabob out of my pouch, I flung the small explosive toward the pillar.  As it left my hand, a tendril of Shadow wrapped around it, halting the projectile.  It floated in midair for a brief moment before exploding.

Suddenly, tendrils of Shadow shot out from the ground, wrapping around my legs.  I focused, trying to Counterspell them, but the Shadow Priest’s Will was like iron.  He seemed almost amused, as my mind struggled with his.  I unsuccessfully tried to bring up my barrier.  The much weaker Shadow tendril from the Death Knight had been a trickle compared to the amount of Shadow flowing into me now. 

Watching my Hit Points slowly tick down, I growled and lifted my foot off the ground.  More Shadow wrapped around me, but my Resistance perk, combined with the potion Jarra had given me, reduced the Damage tremendously.  More strands of Shadow wrapped around my waist, but I kept heading toward the Shadow Priest. 

His eyes, still a dull red in color, began to grow.  They grew and grew until merging together, becoming a massive glowing sphere, as he struggled to slow me down.   “Enough playing around,” he yelled, as he began chanting more words of power.  Two large spikes of Shadow began to form over his head.

A series of explosions lit up the pillar again.  This time they were louder and far more impressive.  The flashes of light seemed to weaken the Shadows holding me.  My deliberate walk turned into a run, as I started closing with the Shadow Priest.  There had been at least ten explosions on the weak side of the pillar, and, despite the quality of its construction, it still needed a base.  Thankfully, such a base no longer seemed to exist.  

“Finally,” I groaned.

As the pillar began to fall over the chasm, the Shadow Priest screamed.  “Block them, fools!”  The skeletons that had nearly reached me all turned and started marching back toward the pillar. 

“Forget someone?” I yelled, as I swung my Blazing Sword toward the distracted Priest’s head.  I followed up with a Hack and Slash for good measure, striking him on both arms and knees.  The ancient undead was knocked forcefully to the ground. 

Suddenly, my Fancy Footwork skill activated as the Undead’s staff flashed past me.  It spun so quickly that it appeared to be a solid disk.  As I landed, both the Shadow Priest’s hands were encased in Shadow. 

I slammed a Biological Aeromancy barrier between the two of us, as the spell surged toward me.  It blasted into my barrier like a missile.  The magic seemed to taint my very lifeforce.  I felt cold, while my Stamina was tainted and sucked away from my body in a torrent.  After a long moment, I shook off the taint from the barrier, a movement that only served to reveal the Shadow Priest’s glowing orb eyes.

“Enough,” He bellowed.  Shadow flowed around him, causing the very air to thicken with its evil pollution.  A wave of power shot off him, saturating all the nearby skeletons.  The Shadow Priest and I were equally startled by the appearance of Sir Dalton.  He leapt off a pillar, dashing a skeleton to bits underneath his steel boots. 

If anything, the Shadow Priest’s spell seemed to have taken the edge off the Shadow Priest, whose own malevolent form appeared to have diminished.  The obvious damage caused by Badgelor and myself was clearly visible. 

●        Parry activated.  You have executed a successful parry!

My head spun around to see the formerly destroyed Death Knight looking quite a bit more mobile and angry than the last time I saw him.  Oh, shit, they’re regenerating.

“They look angrier than last time, Dum Dum,” stated Shart.  “You have the best plans.”

“Nuts,” I exclaimed, as the reborn Death Knight began swinging his sword down in a crashing series of blows that I was ill-prepared to defend against.  By the third swing, he had driven me to  one knee.  As I attempted to roll away, the creature kicked me in the gut hard enough to send me flying.  As I hurtled through the air like a football, I passed right over Badgelor’s head.

●        Airborne Mobility activated.  You may alter your direction now.

Never one to miss an opportunity, I used my perk to send myself hard to the ground.  I landed right in the second Death Knight’s blind spot.  He was currently swinging his sword so quickly that Badgelor was pressed to get an attack in edgewise. 

●        Quick Striking Hack and Slash: You may execute 4 + 2 attacks.  Cost 20 Stamina.

It wasn’t quite Omnislash, but it would do.  I aimed low, much easier on these large skeletons, and tried for as many strikes to the knees as I could manage.  The skeletons’ knee armor was made of brass and sat neatly against the joint.  I slashed at the part where the metal met the bone and hoped for the best. 

●        You have done 162 points of Damage to Death Knight’s knee.  Mitigation failure, Knee has been seriously damaged.  Effect ignored.

I was almost in a fugue state, when a flicker of movement flashed toward me.  Even as I brought  my blade up to parry the Death Knight’s counterattack, I wasn’t sure how I had seen it coming.  The full power of his slash was tremendous, and I caught it too late.  The strike caused me to slide backward several paces. 

The Death Knight turned, racing toward me.  His sprint was short-lived.  Badgelor barreled into him and gripped his damaged leg, causing the skeleton to fall forward.  “This one is mine!  Get your own!” the furry psycho yelled.   I stepped back, as an audible crack sounded, and the bony leg went sailing behind the badger.  The skeleton was still striking at Badgelor for all he was worth, but, without the leverage of being on his feet, he was unable to overcome Badgelor’s natural defenses.

Sir Dalton was being pressed backward by the skeletons, even as Glorious Robert landed and attempted to push them back.  The empowered skeletons were too fast and struck too hard, putting both the men on the defense.  I checked my party menu.  Both men were suffering a variety of minor hits but nothing critical.  SueLeeta was in Stamina Crash from her last attack, the one that had finally brought down the pillar.  I watched Cat Thirty-Six leap into the fray for all of three seconds, before it met its grisly end.  “For Windfall,” screamed Fenris, as he leapt from the fallen pillar.  Lurching forward, he used his shield charge straight into the mass of skeletons.  That degree of blunt force was too much for the undead.  Fenris knocked them back far enough for Dalton and Glorious Robert to form up behind him.  Zorlando managed to get over the pillar last.  He got into position to prevent flankers from behind and basically hoped not to die.  The fast moving skeletons attempted to crush his hopes and dreams.

Jarra got to the top of the pillar and threw something down into the middle of the party.  A thick cloud of greenish smoke flared up, and the undead started falling back slightly.  Suddenly, Zorlando sidestepped and attacked, bringing his sword down on a skeleton’s arm.  The weapon crashed through it, shattering the bone into fragments.  This left a gap in our attackers’ line, and the rest of our party began pushing back hard.  Jarra leapt down, but, instead of heading toward the group, she ran to Bashara.  I was going to tell her to stay with SueLeeta, but, by then, my Death Knight had found me again.

I executed another Hack and Slash, at the same moment he used his identical move.  A shower of sparks flashed around me, as both of our swords clashed.  At the last moment, his sword became encased in Shadows.

●        Curse of Disarming: Your weapon flees from your hand with all possible haste.

●        Curse of Disarming vs Jim: Failure.  Countered by Sword Mastery

It was only the massive power of my grip, granted to me by the Sword Mastery perk, that kept my sword in my possession.  Still, it felt like it was trying to fly from my hand.  The skeleton assisted it by slamming his fist into my chest, sending me sliding backward on the ground.  Using Mobility, I barely managed to roll and get back to my feet, before he was on me again.  I stretched out my hand to reclaim my sword, only to have it fly right past me.

●        Two-Handed Strike does 85 points of Damage.

I saw stars and coughed out blood, as I went flying to the side.  That was getting hit by a boulder damage, and it felt like it.  I staggered to my feet, trying to cast a spell.  I failed, even as I tried to summon my blade back to me again.  I heard a sharp clang as I pulled, and the Death Knight stumbled toward me a pace.  

“Wow, right into his back!  Now, that’s just bad luck,” stated Shart.

He was swinging his sword in fast arcs around his body, as the Death Knight charged toward me.  It was time to get some space between us, I thought, as I backed up another step.  My heel nearly caught on something metallic. 

It was Jarra’s armor.  She had Bashara on her shoulder and was trying to pull her away from the battle, but the battle had come to her.  The healer was trying to give Bashara a Stamina potion, the expression on her face pure unalloyed terror. 

I wasn’t entirely sure I would have left Bashara to her fate.  I knew from experience that I couldn’t just grab Jarra in her armor and leave.  I could dodge out of the way, but what would Jim do?  Not me, not the real Jim, but the Jim that Jarra saw.  All of these thoughts flashed by in an instant. 

I snatched the Stamina potion from Jarra’s hand, turned, and launched myself at the Death Knight.  I threw the contents of the vial into my mouth, as I drew my sword closer to me.  Then, I dumped all my Stamina into my right hand. 

●        One Punch:  you have used 428 points of Stamina, attack base Damage is 20 + 428 points, effect: Knockback, resisted.

The Death Knight had been slightly surprised by my sudden shift in attacks.  He was out of place for the kind of strike needed to swat me out of the air.  What he did attempt, I knocked away with my bracer, even as my fist impacted his helmet. 

“I kind of expected his head would explode,” stated Shart.

The Death Knight went flying backward, as most of its Hit Points depleted instantly.  It slammed into the ground and bounced three times before finally finding a hard enough piece of stone to be stopped.  I crashed to the ground, face-first, from my ill-planned jump. 

A vial landed at my head, shattering on impact.  A cloud of sweet smelling smoke hit my lungs, restoring some Hit Points.  I laid there in Stamina Crash, feeling miserable.  Maybe in a few hours, I’d get back up.  I was certain it wouldn’t be before then, though.  I was wrong.

I felt my body being lifted from the ground.  A spike of Shadow scored my chest, fracturing into tiny pieces. 

“Most unproductive,” stated the Shadow Priest.  “That spike was meant for your heart.”  I glanced around.  Both Jarra the Healer and Bashara were in some sort of barrier that was being clawed at by more Shadow. 

I said nothing.  The hideous creature lifted me by the throat.  “Do you have any last words?”

“Nuce eybes huu gut thar,” I sputtered. 

“What?” asked the Shadow Priest.

I focused Biological Aeromancy Mana into my arms, restoring them.  Then, I jammed two Thingamabobs into the Shadow Priest’s eyes.  The touch of my Life energy on its face was enough to cause the creature to drop me.  An instant later, both contraptions detonated, removing its head. 

Spitting out a mouthful of glass, I tried again.  “Nice eyes you got there.”

The controlling intelligence gone, the Shadow power assaulting Bashara’s barrier faded.  She stumbled out, grinning, “Oh, Jim, I could kiss you.”

I smiled, showing blood, flesh, and shards of glass. 

“Maybe not,” she said, backing up a pace.  I frowned.  Jarra flipped open her visor and kissed me on the cheek, anyway, then snorted at Bashara.  The healer moved back toward the party.  They had nearly broken through the remaining skeletons. 

“Kind of expected them all to die when the main boss went,” I gestured, as blood started pouring from my mouth. 

“How does that make any sort of sense?” asked Bashara.  “Just because the main evil is dead, it doesn’t mean all of his minions aren’t still out there.  Believe me.”

That was it.  I stared at her for a long moment, my face utterly impassive.  We both knew.  I would have said something, but I really needed to do something about all this glass. 

“Did you drink a Stamina potion?” asked Sir Dalton, walking past.  I looked across our current landscape.  While the skeletons hadn’t all simply perished when the boss died, the spell he was  empowering them with had failed. That turned them from life or death challenges to something quite a bit more manageable.  Sir Dalton was carrying one of the struggling creatures in his hands.  Reaching the edge of the chasm, he flung it off the side into the bottomless depths below.

“I mean, you hear about people eating vials,” stated Glorious Robert, placing a leather bag around a mace head before dropping it into his extradimensional storage, “But I’ve never seen anyone who actually did it.”

“Well, if he can’t talk, I suggest that I be in command,” suggested Sir Dalton.

“Of Jim’s party?” asked Zorlando consideringly.  “It could be grand.  The Dashing Dandies at it again!  Alas, once a party enters a dungeon, I believe it is set until the group leaves.  That’s assuming the stories are true.”

“Yes, everyone knows that,” said Glorious Robert, giving Dalton a side-eye.  “Jim is in charge of the party, unless he dies.  Range doesn’t matter in a dungeon like it does in the real world.”

‘It's probably better if he doesn’t talk,” chuckled SueLeeta, as she finally made her way over. “He’s pretty enough to survive with his trap shut.”

“Yes, I was just testing everyone,” chuckled the Knight, as he tossed another skeleton into the pit.  I noticed something different in his expression that I’d never seen there before.

Fenris shook his head and looked out into space for a moment, “We gained Light Experience for this fight.”

Jarra, Combat Medic extraordinaire, walked over to me, “Say ‘ah’.”

I stuck out my tongue at her, and she pulled a twelve foot long barbed piece of glass out of my tongue.  That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it. 

Badgelor hopped back onto my shoulder.  “Good fight!  I got that one Death Knight twice, so I’m counting it as two!”

“I hepped,” I said, feeling my tongue for a moment.  “Isssss there a hoo in my tungue?”

“I think the glass was plugging it,” said Shart helpfully.

Jarra pulled out another healing potion in a syringe, of all things, and used the glass removal tongs to hold my tongue out.  She placed a few drops of the potion on my tongue, causing the hole to seal up instantly. 

“Thank you.  That’s much better,” I smiled.  Jarra gave me a wry grin before stepping back.  I think my entire chin was coated in blood.  Bashara frowned as she walked over, tilting her neck to show a rather serious wound. 

“Remove this.  I would prefer it if it didn’t scar,” said Bashara flatly.

“Of course, you wouldn’t want another one, like the terrible scar on your face,” stated Jarra coolly. Bashara flinched slightly, her eyes burning with hatred. Lacking any place to go, I stayed to watch Jarra use her healing potion syringe.  The device appeared to almost magically stitch the flesh back into place. 

“The Shadow Priest’s experience reward isn’t in the log,” said Glorious Robert, his mace back in his hand.  ”That’s really bizarre.”

“Why wouldn’t the experience be logged?” asked Jarra.  Sir Dalton looked up from kicking a third skeleton into the gaping chasm.

My hair stood on end.  I had a barrier constructed an instant before the blast of Shadow slammed into me.  Jarra was so close that I was able to grab her and hold us both behind my shield.  Bashara was not.  My last image of the Wizard was the Shadow enveloping her, right before it detonated.  The explosion sent Jarra and I flying over the chasm. 

I started using my Airborne perk to adjust my ‘jump’, but I was too high.  I looked back into the Shadow Priest’s glowing red eyes and realized he’d seen me do that before.  Then, Glorious Robert bashed its skull in. 

Jarra, Badgelor, and I hovered, for a brief moment, over the bottomless chasm.  Bashara was gone.  Jarra turned to me, her eyes full of hope.  I came to the rapid realization that both of us were not going to make it. 

“It was a good run,” I smiled at her.  We were out of the range I could throw her, and I only had a bit over 160 Stamina, anyway. 

●        One Punch: Jarra the Healer, You have caused 163 points of Damage.  Jarra the Healer has been knocked back 8 logs. 

She slammed into Sir Dalton with enough force to knock both of them to the ground.  I vanished into the darkness.

“Jim, you fecker!”

Chapter 32: Falling Into the Unknown

“So, how deep do you think this hole is?” I asked Shart, after the last shards of light vanished from above. 

“How deep do I think this magical, bottomless hole is?” asked the demon.  “Gee, I don’t know.  Miles, maybe.  Does miles sound good to you?”

“Jim, you fecker,” repeated Badgelor from his position on my left shoulder.

“And the grab-you-by-the-tail approach will not work?” I double-checked with Shart.

“Seeing as you ripped off my tail about thirty seconds ago, no, it will not,” replied the demon hotly.  He glanced back to his wounded buttocks.  Apparently, there was a speed at which that trick stopped working. 

“Well, at least we won’t see it coming,” I ventured.

“Jim, you fecker,” stated Badgelor.

“Have you checked your skills?” asked Shart.

“I have no Stamina potions and am in the middle of a Stamina Crash.  I was figuring on just splatting,” I commented.

“No drive at all,” said Shart snidely.

“Jim, you fecker,” stated Badgelor, exhaling hard through both nostrils. 

I flipped into menu time, allowing me a vastly extended timeframe to plunge to my death, and started checking out my skills.  Swords, Block, and Fancy Footwork had all gone up slightly.  My Jump skill had also risen, but insufficiently to do anything useful.  I couldn’t slow myself down with my Airborne perk.  Technically, I had to land again to use that.  I had no control over my movement at all. 

“Hey, is there something like a double jump?” I asked Shart.  He was sitting on the top of the ‘S’ in my skills list, his head in his hands.  I could occasionally catch bits of what he was mumbling to himself.  Words like “Dum Dum,” “imbecile,” and “massive fuckwad,” seemed to dominate his musings.

“A skill like Double Jump? No, you nimrod.”

“It's a perk, isn’t it?” I asked.

“Yes, of course, but it wouldn’t matter.  Even with it, if you had fallen all this distance and then jumped again, your legs would explode,” stated the demon.

●        Stamina Control has increase in rank to Journeyman.  You are eligible for a Stamina Control perk.

How the hell did I level up Stamina Control?  I flipped through my skill logs and found out easily enough.  Usually, you only earned Skill Points in Stamina Control when you were willing Stamina into something abnormal.  Just activating my skills or talents wouldn’t help much.  That said, I had been putting Stamina into my Duelist talents, when I used weapon skills on them, That helped to level them up a bit.  My Biological Aeromancy skill, on the other hand, helped out tremendously.  It didn’t hurt that the Stamina Control skill only required a limited number of Skill Points to advance. 

Glancing through the new perks, I didn’t see anything that was going to let me live.  However, I did see one that I was going to take.

●        Second Wind: You recover 75% of your base Stamina up to maximum.  Must be reenergized after use.

I selected that, obviously, and dropped out of menu time to activate it.  Instantly, I felt the bone crushing fatigue leave my body.  I might be plunging to my death, but I wasn’t exhausted.  Things were looking up.  It was even getting brighter below me.

Then, something landed on my back.  I reached over and grabbed it, coming face to face with another skeleton.  I could only assume Sir Dalton was still tossing monsters into the hole.  The Knight had torn the arms and legs off, so the only thing the skeleton could do was bite me.  I glanced around for Badgelor, but he had separated himself from my shoulder sometime during our fall to oblivion.  I could just let the skeleton smash to flinders on the ground, but I didn’t like the notion of leaving a skeleton behind.  I raised my fist to crush its skull.

“WAIT,” screamed Shart.  “Jim found a monster!”

“What?” yelled Badgelor, floating toward me.

“Sir Dalton threw it over,” I said.

“You asshole!” yelled Shart.

“You knew about this the whole time?” growled the badger.

“I thought you were dead,” yelled Shart.

“What about me?” growled Badgelor.

“I’m pretty sure you thought Jim was dead too,” said Shart.  “Hey, the ground is getting really close!  Get your sword ready.”

I drew my sword and looked at it for a moment.  The skeleton was biting at my elbow.  However, lacking flesh made the neck quite bendable.  After a moment, I shoved the tip of my sword into its mouth and pushed it underneath me.  The skeleton promptly began gnawing on the blade.

“Perfect,” said Shart.  “Just keep your arm in position.”

I was falling down a hole at terminal velocity, with my sword in the mouth of a skeleton, in a cavern that looked like it was surrounded by magma, after fighting an undead monster and his minions, beneath a magical castle.  Keeping my arm in position was about the easiest thing I’d done all day.

Wait, magma?

We hit the ground hard enough that stalactites broke off the ceiling.

●        You have executed a successful Death-from-Above attack.  Target receives 9,872 points of Damage.

I stood up and looked at the me-shaped impression in the ground.  Shattered remnants of the skeleton had become embedded in the floor of the hole.  “The FECK?” I screamed. 

Chapter 33: Burning Cavern

“I can’t believe that actually worked,” I said again, for, like, the twentieth time.  I was calming down.  I was good with this. 

“I can’t see how you thought it wouldn’t,” replied Shart, staring at me.  He had caused his body to glow a faint purple color, and his magical light seemed to fill the nearby space. I could barely make out Badgelor, sniffing the walls and crevices in the distance.

“It doesn’t make any sense at all,” I said, feeling my knees again to check for breakage.  There was none, so I flopped onto my back and looked up into the cavern above.  It was a tiny pinprick of light in the vast distance.

“It was pitch black the whole way down,” I commented.

“The light you can now see is caused by a spatial distortion,” replied Shart, looking up.  “This whole dungeon is thickly enchanted.”

I activated Mana Control, pushing a few points of Mana into the distortion.  The enchantment was so thick, you could see wisps of smoke in the background.  They seemed to be flowing over the lip of the crater I had fallen into, though.  I was about to ask Shart, but he was totally disinterested.  He had picked up the fractured skull of the skeleton and was playing with it.

“What do you think, Mr. Skeleton?” asked Shart in his regular voice..

“I think Jim is being a Dum Dum,” replied the squashed, decapitated head of the skeleton.  For this, Shart raised his voice several octaves while waving the skull around in an arcing pattern. 

“We fell thousands of feet, and, because I landed on a monster with my sword out, I didn't take ANY damage from the fall,” I said again, because it made no sense whatsoever.

“Yes, it's a Death-from-Above attack.  Those never cause any damage to the attacker, as long as you hit,” stated Shart.  “It’s a good thing that gigantic oaf tossed the skeleton down when he did.  I don’t know what we’d have done, otherwise.”

“Thousands of feet,” I half screamed.  Okay, maybe I wasn’t as good with this as I previously thought.  I had been skydiving once on Earth, before realizing that it was a terrible idea to jump out of a perfectly good airplane.  My wife had been the smart one.  When I’d told her my plan, she’d told me that she was staying at the bar.  

I had taken zero Falling Damage.  I wasn’t sure if it was better or worse that it happened in darkness, because I couldn’t tell how screwed I was.  I just had to imagine it.  I was internally trying not to hyperventilate. Badgelor, who had jumped onto my back at the last second, was totally unfazed.

“New world, new Jim,” I repeated to myself, trying to restore my stoic reserve.  I like to think I mostly succeeded. 

Of course, the fact that I hadn’t taken any Falling Damage didn’t mean I was completely fine. 

●        Jim: Level 3 Sorcerer

●        HP: 122/700

●        Stamina: 510/550

●        Mana: 128/250

Shart offered me a healing potion from. . .somewhere, and I took it.  Between it and healroot, I’d be in good shape soon enough.  My Overheal pool was empty, meaning that Badgelor had used it recently.  Even with my heightened regeneration through the demonic bond, healing potions were where it was at. 

There were three stats that played into healing, Strength, Endurance and Spirit.  Strength and Endurance governed how many Hit Points I would recover a period, and Spirit governed the length of that period.  Presently, I should recover 10 Hit Points every four hours.  However, I had a Demonic Bond ability that increased recovery by a factor of ten.  That meant I recovered 1 Hit Point every two minutes, twenty-four seconds. 

I had several deep wounds on my body.  The Shadow certainly hadn’t done me any favors. I was going to have a bunch of new scars after this. 

“Bottoms up,” I stated, drinking another minor healing potion.  They recovered 100 Hit Points within a few seconds, enhanced by the user’s stats.  I recovered 150 points per drink, and Shart had six of the things with him.  We also had a supply of dried healroot, which would restore more Hit Points, but that was more of a quantity thing.  I didn’t intend on drinking all of my healing potions here, especially not the more potent ones.  Those I kept for actual combat injuries. 

“What does the gizmo look like?” I asked, remembering the Life artifact that Shart had swallowed some time back. 

“I think it will explode if I touch it,” replied the demon.  “It's giving me indigestion right now.”

“Are you going to fart a rainbow of Life energy?” I asked.

“If this thing leaks out, it's going to force all my guts out of every single orifice I have,” replied Shart.  “I’ll probably blow inside out.”

“Shart bomb.  Could be cool,” Badgelor hummed appreciatively, as he scuttled to and fro amongst the goblins’ remains.  I wasn’t sure what information he might be gleaning, but he was very active and not actually eating.  Maybe goblin guts have an expiration date.

I paused to think about what Shart had just said.  I didn’t normally consider Shart’s guts, but he did bleed.  It reasoned that he had something making the blood and snark flow. Live and learn. 

“Could you survive like that?” I asked.

“Possibly,” replied the demon, giving me an incredulous look.  “It would be hell, though.  All my precious organs on the outside?  An extradimensional space being supported by my skin?”  He shuddered.

It was hard to imagine Shart being even uglier or stickier.  

“Wonder if he got down here the same way I did,” I pondered, pointing at the splattered remains of a decimated goblin. 

“You can never tell with goblins,” responded Shart.  “Maybe he liked high diving.”

“Loot,” I stated, sniffing around.  My nose led me to another splattered goblin corpse.  I felt through his mostly mangled form and found a pouch with several small orbs.  A sniff at one told me it was the same green compound that made Shart go all weird.

“I thought this stuff was in vials or something,” I said, realizing that I’d never actually seen one up close.  I’d only ever seen them quickly thrown.  I thought I remembered them being vaguely oblong, like a test tube or something.  I realized now that they stretched somewhat, just not very well.  I expected that when it hit the ground, it would tear and leak out the contents. 

“I don’t see why you would have thought that, other than the old standard.  You are a Dum Dum. Goblins don’t really have much Glass Making ability,” replied the demon.  I fingered the small leathery ball and tried not to think about what material it had been made of.  It was an odd leather, stretchy but still kind of soft.  I was trying to place where it came from. . . 

“Wolf scrotum,” stated Shart helpfully. 

“Thanks,” I grumbled, jamming the thing into my pouch. 

“They use every part but the growl,” grinned Shart. 

The goblin also had a few gold coins and plenty of silver, which I took.  Finally, I pulled his sword out of the dirt.

●        Man-Slayer Blade: Shortsword, Base Damage 1-6.  Item class, uncommon.  Durability 24/40, Damage 13-18, bonus effects

○        Bonus Damage, Human: Causes an additional +25% bonus when attacking humans.

○        Repress Healing: All Damage to humans caused by this weapon requires twice as long to heal.  Magical healing is half as effective. 

○        Lasting Damage: Wounds caused by this blade leave terrible scars on the opponents.  

“Crap.”  I examined the blade for a long moment.  The weapon was causing something unpleasant to stir in my gut.  It felt evil.  “Shart, how common are weapons like this?”

“Bane weapons are challenging to make,” answered the demon, examining the craftsmanship.  “They require a sacrifice, so the weapons are somewhat uncommon.  Then again, the inhuman armies are seldom squeamish when it comes to sacrifice.”

I summoned my sword back to my hand and placed the Man-Slayer weapon into my extradimensional space.  Even with its expanded size, I still needed to clear out the sheath portion to get at the extra storage Shart had made available.  Strapping my longsword to my side, I changed my magical pool back over to Sorcerer mode, feeling the catch where both kinds of magic were available to me.  Wondering if the dual states of my magic lasted any longer than normal, I started running toward the wall.  Leaping up as high as I could, I grabbed onto the surface. 

“What are you doing, Dum Dum?” asked Shart.

“Climbing up the wall to the cavern,” I stated, as my first handhold crumbled, followed quickly by my second handhold.  I struggled, throwing handfuls of rock below me, as I tried to find anything to grab a hold of.  Finally, the entire cliff face sheared away, and I had to leap backward.  I landed in a pool of blood left by the goblin.  Promptly faceplanting, I skidded to a halt several paces away.

Standing up and blowing several bits of gravel out of my left nostril, I tried to find a better wall.  Three attempts later, I was sitting on the ground, again.  Now, I was nursing a sprained ankle amid an expanded pile of debris.

“I take it you shut up because, for some reason, you can’t climb these walls,” I stated. 

“Yup,” replied Shart.  “They are magically enchanted.  You’ll have to go through the dungeon.”

“You can fly,” I suggested.

Shart stared at me.  “Hey, Dum Dum, look at me.  Read my lips if you need to.  I’m going to speak slowly and clearly.  Maaaggggiiiiiiccccaaaallllllllyyyyy ennnnnchhhhaaaannnttted.”

“Right.  So, no flying, either.”

“Correct,” Shart nodded.

“Don’t look at me, either,” Badgelor stated. 

“You will have to go through the dungeon,” Shart reiterated.

“I thought the dungeon was up there,” I gestured toward the inky blackness above us.

“Oh, no, you fell through space and time to get down here.  The space between the chamber above and the ground under your feet is quite distorted,” stated Shart.  “It looks like this is an alternative path to the Dungeon Core.”

“Shit,” I said, trying to mentally communicate with SueLeeta.  I failed dismally.  “Is it going to prevent me from talking to the party?”

“Yup,” nodded Shart.

I groaned.  “How is anyone supposed to survive that fall anyway?”

“Duh, there is normally a pool of water here.  It’s dried up, though,” replied Shart.

“And jumping from way up there into a pool of water,” I started, looking around until I spotted the marks where the water level had been, “That is about five logs deep?  Is that enough to prevent anyone from taking Falling Damage?”

“Yes,” stated the demon.  “Why is this so hard for you to grasp?  Is falling into water from heights lethal on earth or something?”

“No,” I signed, rolling my eyes to the point that they almost fell out of my head, “of course not.  You can jump out of an airplane without a parachute as long as there is a deep enough puddle.   Let's go through the alternative dungeon.  It can’t be any worse than what’s going on up there.”

“That’s the spirit, Dum Dum,” grinned Shart.  “Just you and me, wandering through the deep dark places of Ordinal, fighting whatever comes our way.”  Badgelor harrumphed. 

Looking over the edge of the empty pool, I could see the obvious makings of a cave entrance.  At least, I guessed that was the entrance.  My assumption was further supported by the fact that Badgelor was already walking in that direction.

The door was just above where the level of water should have been, at the edge of a rough, black, sandy beach.  The area looked like it had been made out of local pulverized stone.  It was the only clear place at what would have been water level.

“Great, the dungeon is broken,” I stated, looking around.  I didn’t recall seeing any water above and there wasn’t any obvious water here. 

“Probably.  The Mana flows around here seem weird,” stated Shart.  “I think there is something very wrong going on in there.”

“That doesn’t exactly inspire confidence,” I replied, looking into the darkness of the cavern.  I briefly considered shifting back over to Mage Knight, but I was using the Sorcerer Mana network to see in the dark.  Shrugging, I figured that my other three martial classes could carry the slack.  At the very least, I’d be able to survive the extremely short time required to switch back. 

“I’m not trying to inspire confidence here,” stated Shart.  “I’m trying to tell you important information that you should probably know, Dum Dum.”

“What would that be?” I asked.

“The Mana flows in the dungeon are wrong,” stated Shart.  “There is a Source here.  It is possibly somewhere very close, but most of the Mana is being diverted into something.  That’s what’s causing the dungeon to stretch out.  That’s what’s causing all the cracks we see forming.”

“And the stone that lacks any strength?” I asked, picking up a small chunk of granite and crushing it into powder. 

“Be very careful when you go in there,” said Shart.  “I don’t want to get banished to Limbo or anything.”

“Got it!  Don’t inconvenience you by letting you get killed,” I stated. 

“That’s the ticket,” replied Shart.

“Hey, I don’t want to be killed, either,” said Badgelor.  “I will not die before that traitor, Charles!” 

“Shart, do I need to be worried about my Mana network down here?” I asked.

“What do you mean?” replied the demon.

“Considering the disruptions to the natural Mana and how jury rigged my system is. . .” I trailed off.

Shart stared at me for a moment.  “Good point!  You are brilliant!  Oh, also, how in the seven hells should I know?  Your entire spellcasting system is totally messed up and shouldn’t work at all.  I had to mumbo jumbo it back together using a rather desperate amount of effort on my part.  Let's just hope you don’t randomly pop when you are down here.  That UnBound trait is more trouble than it’s worth.”

That wasn’t comforting.  My Unbound trait was where I picked up the overwhelming majority of my power.  The fact that it was more limited than I sometimes gave it credit for was something.  The problem seemed to be that the <system> never considered mixing the classes into one package like this. 

“How is there even a trait that breaks the system so badly?” I asked. 

Shart was quiet for a long moment, seeming to consider deeply what he should say.  “Umm, reasons.”

“Ahhhhhh, yes, reasons,” nodded the badger sagely.

“Reasons?” I questioned, turning my head to face the demon.  Shart poofed off my shoulder and reappeared more than an arm’s reach away.

“Well, you know, the Dark Overlord is returning, and we don’t have Grebthar sitting around waiting to defeat him.  So, we. . .cheated?”

“You cheated to give me Unbound?” I asked.  “Oh, boy, this should be good.  Please, explain.”

“Look, there are signs everywhere that the Dark Overlord is either coming back to the world very soon or has already returned.  Grebthar is nowhere to be found,” replied the demon.  “We needed someone to fight the Dark Overlord and his minions, and my companion suggested that we dust off some of the old <expansions> and kind of <mod> the <system>.”

“Did you anticipate the poor shmuck who got this talent would explode if he learned too many magical classes?” I asked, trying not to be angry.  It was challenging.

“Jim bomb, not so cool,’ Badgelor stated.  “At least, not until Charles is dead.”

Shart stared at Badgelor a moment before turning back to me.  “Well, no, we didn’t anticipate anyone would get Unbound at all.  It was a very low probability out of all the possibilities, but we were using loaded <dice>.  I guess it was to be expected,” replied Shart quietly.

“You used dice to assign me my trait,” I stated more than asked.  “I guess that makes sense, as you guys were also stupid enough to not wipe my brain when you brought me here.”

“Mistakes were made,” replied Shart, looking away.  “The important thing is that you, Jim, are the Chosen one we brought here to fight the Dark Overlord. . .wherever he is.”

“Really?” I asked.  “I thought I wasn’t going to be able to handle the pressure.  Isn’t that why you need to wipe me by way of making me go through your precious Demon Door?”

“Mistakes were made,” repeated Shart.  “Look, I’m not happy about it, either.  I’d really like to find Grebthar and sic him on the Dark Overlord.  You are a very suboptimal choice.”

“What is the Dark Overlord?” I asked.  “I’m really not understanding how I’m supposed to fight that.”

“He’s a being that has been sent on an all-important mission to corrupt the world into a land of eternal darkness.  He is about as powerful as a Godling,” stated Shart.  “From your perspective, think Thor or evil Hercules.”

“Comic Thor or Mythological Thor?” I replied darkly.

“Does it matter?” Badgelor asked.

Shart looked down.  “Which one is tougher?”

“Damn it, Shart,” I yelled.  “What was going through your diseased little mind when you thought having me fight this Dark Overlord was going to work?”

“We were out of options,” replied the demon defensively.  “The last time Grebthar fought him, it was a cataclysmic battle for the fate of the world.  Both of them died, or, at least, I thought they did.  My partner was much more involved in the Grebthar <program> than I was.  Suddenly, somehow, Grebthar was gone, and we needed a replacement.  You were going to be Grebthar version 2, all of the advantages and none of the attitude.”

“None of the attitude?  You sure fecked that up sideways,” said Badgelor.

“Attitude?” I questioned, glaring at the demon.  He turned from me and swore.

“Yes,” grumbled Shart shortly.  “Grebthar was not really happy with us for making him go through the trials before he fought the Dark Overlord.  He wasn’t really happy about fighting the Dark Overlord, either, but he manned up.  That’s the kind of guy he was, the Ultimate Hero.  Whenever the fate of the world hung in the balance, Grebthar was there, saving the day.”

“He sounds great,” I stated.

“That’s why there is Grebthar Day across the world,” nodded Badgelor. 

“How long did Grebthar and the Dark Overlord fight?” I asked.  “You are making it sound like quite a bit more than a one and done, like I thought.  Was it years?”

“Yes, they fought for years,” stated Shart.  “Lots of years, centuries even.  Each time Grebthar won, he banished the Dark Overlord for a bit longer than the last.  Finally, that last fight, poof, no more Dark Overlord.”

“Grebthar won?” I asked.

“I. . .don’t know,” replied Shart with a groan.  “I wasn’t in charge of the program.  My partner was.  He monitored all the fights and led Grebthar around.  He managed Grebthar, basically the same way I manage you.  It was all in meat time, so it was super boring.  Much like most of my time with you is super boring.”

“Grebthar killed the Dark Overlord but died in the attempt?” I asked.

“If I had to guess, based on the available evidence, I’m going to say, ‘kind of’,” responded Shart.

“Kind of?” I screamed, as dust particles and small rocks fell from the cavern walls.  Lowering my voice, I whisper shrieked, “What part of that sentence is a ‘kind of’ situation?” 

“Grebthar is dead, but he didn’t ultimately kill the Dark Overlord.  He couldn’t have, because, as I said before, all signs point to the Dark Overlord returning.” Shart elaborated.

“So did Grebthar,” I stated, “Right?  Fifteen times?  Isn’t that what you said, Shart?  That’s why with the fake demon door and the symbolism nonsense.”  I might have been becoming slightly hysterical. 

“Yes, but just the fifteen times.  There has not been a sixteenth return.  Thus, our problem,” confirmed Shart. 

“And I’m the solution?”

“As unfortunate as it may be, yes,” responded the demon.

“So, to be clear, this Dark Overlord is going to be around again soon to take over the world, and I, Jim the IT guy, need to battle him for centuries?  Otherwise, the world is going to be destroyed?  Then, even if I manage to beat him, he will just come back in the future?”

“See, you get it,” replied Shart, nodding.

“I fucking hate you!” I growled. 

Chapter 34: The Path to the Dungeon Core

I flicked on Mana Control while spreading Mana around me before I glanced at the entrance to the alternative dungeon.  Before, with the Dungeon Door at the castle, I had to work to see what was going on.  Now, I could easily see the magical patterns and process them without difficulty.  It was strange.  Imagine a blue latticework of magical barbs in your vision, but it seems to integrate perfectly with everything else you are seeing. 

“I should just do this all the time,” I stated, glancing at Shart.  That was a mistake.  With Mana Control active and Mana everywhere, my demonic companion was extremely visible to me, almost blindingly so.  It was like catching the sun out of the corner of your eye, then the sun becoming exponentially brighter. 

“Probably not,” stated Shart.  “I’m going to be super bright to you, because I’m keeping my Arcane form hidden from everybody else.  Let me hop off your shoulder.”

As he did so, Shart’s appearance in my vision dwindled to the point that he almost blended into the background.  I say almost, because, while he was invisible to everyone else, I knew exactly where he was.  I could clearly see a faint outline of him in my vision now. 

“Is that pattern what you were talking about?” I asked, gesturing toward him.

“Yes,” stated Shart, “You can see me with your eyes, as well as sense me with Mana Control.  Since you know where to look, you can spot me.  Most low-level Sorcerers wouldn’t have the ability to recognize what they are seeing.  Higher-level magic users will certainly notice the strange disruption, if they have focused their perks or cast certain spells.  I can mask my form somewhat more, but that requires significantly more Mana than I typically use.”

“I’m feeding you Mana whenever my own pool is full, which is almost all the time,” I stated defensively.

“That helps tremendously.  However, even if you devoted all your Mana regeneration to me, it would still be a net loss,” replied Shart.  “Not to mention, people would wonder where your Mana was going.”

I nodded.  Nothing could be done about that now, so I glanced back toward the door for the dungeon.  Now that I could easily see the patterns, it was painfully obvious that something was wrong.  All of the nearby Mana seemed to all be flowing into the dungeon.

“Is all the Mana being drawn into this place?” I asked, looking around.  I realized that the walls had crumbled because they had been drained of Mana for an extended period of time.  Everything in the nearby area was being slowly drained of Mana to feed something inside the dungeon.

“Yes,” stated Shart, “And that doesn’t make sense.  There are places on this world where magic will flow strangely, but this is a low-level area.  There shouldn’t be a drain this strong here.”

“But it's still a low-level area,” I stated.  “We’ll just sneak in, look for monsters, and rush out if there are any problems.”

“Can we please get to it?  Can we please get to anything?” asked Badgelor.  He was becoming noticeably fidgety and irritated at the lack of Charles-hunting.

Shart didn’t respond, so I began to creep forward into the dank, dark dungeon.  The entrance was hacked into the wall of the cavern, about twenty feet up the beach I was on.  Calling the mostly stone-covered path with no water a beach was a stretch, but I didn't have a better word for it. 

The path ended at the hacked out entrance to the dungeon.  I carefully peered inside.  Unsurprisingly, it was pitch black.  I held up my left hand and used my Flameology skill to generate a small, bright fire, placing the shadows inside in sharp relief. 

I was about to step inside, when my Perception skill showed me a trap.  I swallowed, as a chill ran down my spine.  I promptly squashed the feeling.  I had already encountered a bunch of traps.  One more wasn’t going to spook me. 

“Dude, grow a spine and move,” stated Shart.  “We’re wide open out here!  At least hide somewhere else.”

I glared at him for a moment.  Then, slowly, I began taking carefully placed steps, successfully avoiding the tripwire at the entrance to the dungeon.  Briefly, I considered disarming it but ultimately decided against it.  If Shart was worried about something being after us, a trap might not be such a bad thing to have.  So, after ensuring that it wasn’t attached to anything else, I continued forward. Running into such a basic trap was actually a relief, considering the death machines I’d been encountering. 

That pattern repeated itself several times, as I found a deadfall trap, some spiked hooks that struck from the ceiling, and a series of blow darts, all on the first few stretches.  As I bypassed them, I knew my confidence was being restored.  My Perception was edging higher, and I was finding it much easier to discover the traps. 

“Check out the floor of the tunnel,” stated Shart, as we continued walking.  I glanced down and saw a curve to the floor.  It was a minor one, but I still instantly thought of the boulder from Indiana Jones.  I also realized that the passage was wide enough that I’d be able to hunker down in the corner if a similar boulder came rushing at me. 

“You are seriously fixated on boulders,” said Shart.

“It's a valid concern,” I replied, thinking back to the Ironpass Mine.  That was the day a boulder had landed on my legs.  Also Raiders.  Shart groaned. 

“What I don't get are these spikes on the walls,” I stated, as we turned another ninety degree corner.  At the end, straight away from the next passage, was a series of spikes.  “You’d pretty much have to run, face first, into them to actually take any Damage.”

“Maybe Noobie adventurers were that stupid,” replied Shart, but he was looking around cautiously.  I was creeping carefully along the wall.  Life without a party was hard.  I was glad Shart and Badgelor were there to watch my back.  The thought of being all alone in the depths of the dungeon was scary, and a shiver involuntarily ran down my spine. 

“Scary and boring,” said Shart.  “Without me, you are just an uninteresting meat bag.”

“Hey,” chimed in Badgelor, “I’m the good looking one.”

“He can read my mind.  How can you tell what I’m thinking?”  I grumbled at Badgelor.  He was wandering through the room, but he had finally scented whatever he was sniffing.  Now, he was focused on the door leading to the dungeon. 

“Heh,” he chuckled, “I can smell fear, and you have a particular odor about you.  Let me guess, you just realized what it would be like if you were all alone down here.  I bet you think you are the only one who’s ever shivered at the thought of that happening to you.

Well, apparently Charles was afraid of being stuck by himself in a dungeon, too.

We made slow progress up three passages of staircases, until we reached a small antechamber at the top.  Each passage was a straight ramp that hit a ninety degree turn into the next passage, like some sort of giant stairwell.  The four previous hallways below us made me realize we were almost directly above the dungeon’s pool entrance at this point.  The only odd thing were the vines growing around the room.  Thus far, this part of the dungeon had been lacking in vegetation.

After brushing the vines aside, I struck the outer wall twice, causing cracks to form.  I realized that, with as weak as the walls were, I could probably break out of this chamber and have a good look at the empty cavern outside.  One shot of BioLightning dissuaded me of that notion.  The Mana-starved rock didn’t blast away as quickly as I’d hoped. 

“Badgelor would be faster,” said Shart, looking at the smoking hole.

“I think I could push through that rock fast enough,” I replied. 

“Focus, you idiots.  If there is going to be a problem, it's going to be here.  You’ll never know it, though, because you are busy blowing holes into the mountain,” said the badger.  He continued, much more softly, “I’m coming, Charles.”

Rolling my eyes, I focused on my Cartography skill and brought up my map.  I usually kept that hidden as much as possible, simply because it was distracting.  However, in this case, I was curious.  We were nearly forty feet up and directly over the first room.   It wasn’t much, but I could see that we had slightly less than 2000 feet to go to get to the chamber we’d originally fallen from, and we were making progress.

Suddenly, I caught a scent, as my Explorer’s Nose triggered.  This was getting better and better.  I glanced around, carefully examining the floor, walls, and ceiling.  I realized that there was a slight oddity with the space several paces away from the door that lead deeper into the dungeon proper. 

“Secret door,” I hissed, walking carefully toward it, while Badgelor watched the door further inside the dungeon.  The hidden doorway was covered in a mass of vines, but they were easy to cut away. After two swipes of my trusty sword, I was looking at a keyhole on the otherwise smooth patch of rock. 

“Think I could pick that?” I asked.

Shart studied it for a moment. “Well, it’s not busted, if that’s your question.”

I grumbled and pulled out my handful of lock picks from Shart’s belly.  After my previous lock picking attempts, this one was a piece of cake.  I heard a click, as the lock disengaged.  The door didn’t open, though. 

“Where’s the handle?” I asked, poking around at the solid mass of rock.  I didn’t even see a seam anywhere that showed where the doorway was.

“Let me try, Dum Dum,” said Shart.  I felt him start casting a spell.  He waved his hands over the rock in an arcane configuration before wisely saying, “Well, that’s stupid.”

“What?” I asked, drawing a dagger and making some slight cuts into the gritty stone, probing for a doorway.

“Well, the handle is on the inside,” replied Shart, knocking on the wall.  I continued probing with my dagger. For it being a doorway, the sound of Shart’s knocking sounded peculiar.  It didn’t sound like a knock against a hollow space or against something solid.  It sounded strange, kind of muffled, like hitting the glass wall of an aquarium or something.   “Oh, wait, problem solved,” Shart said.

It was then that the door slammed open, spraying me with a thick, oily fluid.  I frantically put my hand out, seeking anything with which to balance myself.  It didn’t matter.  The slippery mixture started to burn.  My only saving grace was that the oily substance burned more slowly than proper oil.  The continuous flow of the mixture sent me spilling down the hallway and out of the now burning room.

Far more disturbing was the shape swimming through that oily mixture.  I only saw the fin, and only for a moment, but it was enough to fuel nightmares. 

I tried to find my footing and outrun the maelstrom, but, even with Mobility, the fluid was so slippery that I couldn’t get my footing.  I grabbed a hold of Badgelor and righted myself, even as he shrank down to travel size and grabbed onto my shoulder.  That caused me to slip, and I tumbled along with the black, burning mass for several seconds.  I got past the initial tide of gunk and flowed with the tsunami. 

“What did you do, you nimrod?” yelled Badgelor.

“I found a secret door,” I mumbled.

“You don’t open secret doors without telling the party leader,” yelled Badgelor.

“I AM the party leader,” I yelled back, trying to scramble to my feet.

“No, you are the party idiot who opens doors without telling anyone,” growled the badger.

“Spikes,” I mentally called out to Shart, as we were propelled down the hallway, directly toward the first row of spikes.

“Ohhhhhh, that’s what they’re there for.” he responded.

I was tumbling end over end.  I couldn’t see anything, due to the thick fluid and, now, spikes.  The day was not going to go down as one of my better ones.  Finding my footing, I jammed both of my feet down hard.  My Jump skill fully engaged, and I launched myself out of the fluid. 

Unfortunately, I ended up bouncing off the ceiling, which I couldn’t even see.  I followed that spectacular move by flopping down into the oily water, with only my Mitigation perk preventing me from being knocked senseless.  I grabbed hard at a small protrusion of rock.  Unfortunately, the slippery oil had already coated it, and I couldn’t find purchase. 

“Alright, listen to the party leader,” yelled Badgelor, who had somehow gotten torn off my back and to my chest, “Jump to the left.”

I dug my feet down into the ground and leapt to Badgelor’s left as hard as I could. Left was a subjective thing.  I ended up bouncing off a wall, then slamming into the spikes sideways.  The flow continued to carry me down the passage beyond them.

“I meant your left,” called Badgelor.

“I can’t see, you asshole,” I called back, scrambling for purchase.  My efforts had slowed me somewhat which led to the second problem.  While the leading edge of the oil slick was noticeably free from flames, that was not something that continued the entire way back.  I had gotten far enough into the mixture to find that, when I pulled my head out to catch a breath, I was inhaling smoke.  Then, something brushed my leg. 

●        You have received the condition, Burnt Lungs: Your lungs are 50% less effective for the next 6 seconds, cumulative.  You will have the effect Shortness of Breath for the duration. 

What cumulative meant in this particular context was that the next three gulping breaths I took added additional time to the clock.  I tried to swim forward in the flow, but swimming proved about as effective as jumping.  I did manage to get to a point where the fire wasn’t actually burning me anymore, which was what I considered a plus.

“Get ready to jump again,” shouted Badgelor, as he used his massive tail to paddle over and onto my chest.  “Jump toward the sound of my voice, NOW!”

I leapt again, slamming head first into the ceiling.  Said ceiling was apparently a lot lower here than anywhere else in the history of architecture, causing me to impale myself through the shoulder with a large, gritty spike. 

●        Impaling Damage: You took 29 points of Impaling Damage from Crude Spike.

“This isn’t working,” I screamed, trying to yank my shoulder off the spike, even as the oil pressed me further into it.  I swung my hand out and encountered the corner of the wall.  “This is going to hurt.”

Tearing myself free from the spike caused another 9 points of Damage, but I was able to put my feet onto the side wall.  Using the spike coated in my somewhat less slippery blood, I leapt off, skimming the oil and landing just beyond the onrushing tidal wave. 

My Mobility began flashing, as I tried to find my footing.  That, combined with my Hiking skill, allowed me to be more surefooted on unstable terrain.  I was able to start outrunning the sludge. 

“Thank goodness you have that Hiking skill,” said Shart, reappearing on my shoulder.  I growled.

We tore down the pathway with the slick just behind us.  The footing got easier, as whatever was caked on the bottom of my boots was rubbed away against the dusty ground below.  I could still barely see with the chemical mixture covering my entire body, but the glowing red pair of eyes in the slurm was enough to keep me moving.

“Well, this isn’t good,” stated Shart.  “The flow has evened out, so the entire thing is on fire now.  Wait, you can still see the red-eyed monster in there.”

As oil was flying off me with every step, I was keenly aware of why he mentioned it. Wheezing, because my lungs refused to work properly, I dipped hard into my Stamina and kept running.  This was aided somewhat by the first few passages being at a slightly steeper slope.  Easier to run downhill than up.

Unfortunately, while it only minimally helped my speed, the slick began moving faster. 

“It's getting closer,” said Shart unhelpfully.

“Can’t you Destructive Gaze it?” I yelled to Badgelor.

“Shoot into water?” asked the badger.  He seemed utterly stupefied.  “You understand basic physics, right?  The beams will diffuse the moment they touch the water.  That thing is at least three logs in.  There won’t be enough energy in my blast for him to even notice.”

I managed to wipe one eye clean, as I further increased my pace.  Thankfully, the burning oil slick behind me was providing plenty of light in the dark passageway.  My first eye was clean just in time to see several darts firing toward me.  Activating my Dodge skill against so many darts was next to impossible, even if I wasn’t dipping into Stamina to fuel my mad dash down the path.  Instead, I reacted instinctively and activated my Barrier skill, which worked for both my Sorcerer and Mage classes.  The darts struck harmlessly, burnt to ash by the flame barrier. 

If you are thinking that using a flame barrier when covered in oil is particularly stupid, I did too. I had determined that younger Jim was a bit of an idiot, as that’s about when I caught fire. 

●        Immolated: You are covered in fire, you are taking 6 Damage every 6 seconds.  Damage doubled if running.

I spotted a ledge and threw Badgelor at it.  He yelped, but managed to get onto it quickly enough.  He began digging upward, as I continued trying to pat out the flames.  Fortunately, I was running at a high rate of speed, and, on Ordinal, that meant. . .actually nothing.  I expected the fire to burn brighter with more oxygen or something, but Shart had already pointed out that the atmosphere worked differently here. 

“Can you do something about me being on fire?” I mentally screamed to Shart.  Not only was I on fire but, as an added bonus, I was still getting more Burnt Lung debuffs by the second.

“Yes, hold your horses,” stated Shart.  I pivoted to see how far behind me the massive burning slick of oil was.  The creature’s teeth were now glowing, along with its eyes. 

“Is that thing getting bigger?” I asked. 

Then, there was a faint whacking sound, and my shoulder became noticeably lighter.  I had just run past one of those barbed hook traps that struck from the ceiling.  They were little more than  large metal hooks, and, when you stepped on a pressure plate, they sprung down at approximately head level.  Shart was currently getting acquainted with one.  At least he was, before the flaming oil completely doused him.  The force of the oil hitting him was able to dislodge him from the hook. 

Trying to find spots I’d stepped on while heading into this accursed passage, I managed to dodge past the hooks without getting hit myself.  I continued down the passageway, until I saw the next corner.  Judging that my feet were clean enough, I made the sharp turn, just ahead of the flaming oil.

Suddenly, Shart was on my shoulder again.  “Well, that was unpleasant.”

“What happened,” I gasped, as I continued sprinting.  My Stamina bar was dropping ever lower.

“The hook broke off when the big wave hit me,” stated Shart.  “By the way, what we are seeing now is just the opening trickle.”

“Still on fire,” I groaned, hoping that Burnt Lung wasn’t going to morph into something even less pleasant.

“Oh, that’s right!  I always forget that burning is unpleasant for you,” said Shart.  “Well, I guess I could fix it for you, for a price.”

“I am going to die, and you still need me, you daft bastard,” I screamed.

“Hold that over my head, will you?” replied Shart, but then the Burning Damage ceased.  To be clear, I was still a burning man, running down a hallway.  I just wasn’t taking any more Damage from it.

“Why didn’t you do that earlier?” I screamed, this time with conviction, as my lungs weren’t hurting anymore.

“Look at your hand,” replied Shart.  Some of the oil had burnt off patches of my skin were visible and the patch I could see was now a deep, unnatural red.

“Please tell me I can turn that off,” I stated, spotting the Deadfall trap in the distance. 

“In your menus,” replied Shart.  “My, that stuff just keeps getting closer.”

My legs burned, in the exhausted sense, not from actually being on fire.  As a reminder, they still totally were, but the burning was definitely from overworked muscles.  Even so, I needed to make this last jump.  I lined up with the trap and leapt over gracefully, like a burning howler monkey being chased by a meth addicted puma.

As I leapt, my Stamina bottomed out from the combination of sprinting and the burning lungs, which prevented me from catching my breath.  I hadn’t realized it at the time, but being Short of Breath prevented natural Stamina regeneration.  Even when you perform Stamina-dependent actions, you are recovering Stamina the entire time.  The loss of that regeneration caused me to significantly miscalculate how far I could push myself. 

For one horrifying instant, the burning liquid looked like it might somehow flow completely over the pit.  In the end, there was just enough distance that the burning fluid poured itself down into the shaft.  It got dicey, as the flow grew higher.  However, even then, only a small amount of the fiery liquid managed to slosh over the edge, causing a ring of fire.  I was bound, by a wild desire, that I not fall into that ring.

“Wow, those flames are getting higher,” stated Shart, as I wheezed on the ground next to him. 

“That pit is pretty deep.  I don’t think there is enough to fill it anytime soon,” I replied.

“Yes, Dum Dum, but there is more of it coming in just a moment,” stated Shart.  “Much more.”

I turned to look up the hallway, where the burning flow was first crashing into the spikes at the end of the passage.  From there, it began flowing down the sloped hallway.  The burning oil lit everything in an eerie sort of hellscape that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.  Or it would have, if they hadn’t been burned off.

So when the light stopped, I noticed it.  You could feel the blast of pressure from the deluge that followed the initial trickle that I had been stuck in.  As it crashed into the spikes, there was so much liquid that it extinguished everything.  There was no room for fire after the liquid’s passage.  Except, of course, for the glowing red eyes and teeth. 

“I think the creature has plugged the hole,” stated Shart appraisingly.  “Now, he’s trying to break free.  I do hope that fragile, easily crushed rock holds him.”

“SHITTTT,” I screamed, while trying to get back to my feet.  With my Stamina depleted, I didn’t quite see how I was going to make it out of this.  Then, I remembered my Second Wind perk.  Of course, the problem was I didn’t quite know how to activate it.  I mean, on Earth, you just kind of got your second wind sometimes.  Normally, it occurred when you were motivated to do something.  If a million gallons of sludge wasn’t enough to motivate a person, then I don’t know what would have been.

It was a Stamina perk, so it stood to reason that it worked like any other Warrior ability.  I concentrated, trying to figure out where I needed to activate it.  I moved over to my Stamina pool, kind of sensing it the same way I did my Mana pool.  Suddenly, it clicked.

My Stamina instantly shot up from 0 to 260.  It was like drinking a Red Bull that had been loaded with an espresso shot and about half a kilo of cocaine. 

I launched myself back to my feet and engaged Sprint again, blasting toward the entrance.  The flow of oil behind me was now causing the entire passageway to rumble.  The rumbling, in turn, was causing pieces of the ceiling and walls to break off.  I thought that was probably not a very good sign. 

As we crossed the threshold of the entrance, I was forced to dodge a particularly nasty looking piece of stone.  Then, I felt my foot catch on something.  It was that damn tripwire.  I tumbled through the dungeon’s door and onto the path toward the beach.  I was a rolling heap, as a particularly loud boom sounded from the dungeon. 

Glancing back, I realized that there was a deadfall trap attached to the tripwire, after all.  The boulder had blocked the entrance to the dungeon. 

“Well, that’s a tiny bit of luck,” I said. 

Shart had toppled off my shoulder and come to rest in his own ungraceful heap.  He stood, wiping dust from his tomato-like body, and walked over to the boulder.  Placing his hand on it, he said, “Oh, yeah, this guy is really heavy.  That should stop it cold!”

Tensing up as the rumbling reached a crescendo, I waited.  For an instant, everything looked like it was going to work out.  Suddenly, there was a loud thud, and the mouth of the dungeon entrance cracked.  A huge spray of oil shot out. 

“Hey, Dum Dum,” stated Shart, backing away from the boulder.  He got two steps away, before oil exploded around the boulder on all sides.  The huge rock was propelled out of the entrance and straight toward me. 

I didn’t even want to comprehend how much Damage a boulder that size would do.  With that much oil around it, and me still being slightly on fire, I didn’t expect a swim to be all that enjoyable.  Instead, I sucked it up and Jumped once, landing on the boulder.  Using it as a platform, I Jumped again, launching myself over the entrance of the dungeon and onto the cliff wall.

The fragile, brittle cliff wall. 

My hands dug into the soft sediment.  The rock felt more like drying mud than stone.  I supposed that was a bonus, considering how slick my hands still were.  I pulled out two large handfuls of debris, flinging them into the tunnel-wide stream of oil splashing behind me.  Some of my burning oil dripped off, landing on one of the rocks below.  The oil, which had extinguished itself as it fell, suddenly caught fire again. 

As I scrambled, more and more stone broke away.  I was becoming desperate.  Reaching to my side, I grabbed my trusty sword and attempted to stab it into the wall.  Unfortunately, the hilt was slick with oil, as were my hands.  The sword slipped from my grip, clattering to the rocks below.  One of those monsters leapt out of the oily mass and bit down on the blade, vanishing under the oily water’s surface. 

I grumbled and tried to call the sword back to my hand.  Nothing happened.  Remembering that I was in Sorcerer mode, I took a single moment to concentrate and flip myself back to Mage Knight.  I again tried to summon the sword back to my hand.  The weapon exploded out of the liquid and flew back into my hand, hilt first.  It then slipped free and smacked me in the face, before embedding itself in the wall.  Then, I somehow caught more on fire from the oil spray the sword had brought up with it. 

“Balls,” I said to Shart.  He shrugged and ate my sword.  I wasn’t worried.  I’d get it back later. 

“Here, take this,” called Shart, handing me a large piece of metal with a hook on the end of it.  Swearing inwardly, I drove the hook into the stone.  A few feet in, it caught on enough solid rock to support me. 

Using that as my lever, I began scaling away from the burning lake of fire, as the flames climbed higher. 

“Well, Dum Dum,” started Shart, as I climbed my first ten feet or so.  Each use of the hook pulled down a sheet of rock.  “You know how I explained that you don’t really breathe oxygen on Ordinal, but rather draw Mana from the air with your lungs.”

“Life Mana,” I choked.  The smoke was getting kind of bad.

“Well, lots of burning starts breaking down the Life Mana, and the smoke isn’t helping matters any.”

I inhaled sharply, feeling short of breath.  I checked my Mana pool.  It was doing alright, and my Stamina pool was slowly replenishing, now that the Burnt Lung effect was gone.  It certainly wasn’t replenishing at its usual level, but I wasn’t operating at a deficit yet.  However, I would need to get to a spot with clean air soon.

“Options?” I asked.

“Climbing is out,” stated Shart, as I pulled off another sheet of rock.  “The effect goes up well beyond the level you will survive.”

“Down?” I questioned.  The lake of fire was unappealing, but, with my new found fire immunity, I wouldn’t take too much Damage from it.  That's when I noticed the slight marring of the surface of the lake.  Then, I spotted the fins.

“How many of those things are there?” I groaned.

“Big ones or little ones? I counted at least six small fries,” replied Shart, wiggling his little fingers toward the sludge. 

“Are they some sort of sharks?” I asked.

“They are Fire Sharks,” responded Shart. 

“Well, are those better or worse than regular sharks?” I questioned, gripping the stone wall with one hand and the hook with the other.

“Worse, I think.  A shark would be expected to die in oil -laced water like that, while a Fire Shark is going to do just fine in it.”

“Good to know,” I stated.

“It could be worse, though.  There is also a Fire Kraken,” replied Shart idly.  I looked around for a moment, but the demon snorted.  “She got bumped around, but, when she gets over her debuffs, she’s going to start reaching for you with tentacles.  By the way, you are only thirty logs up.”

As I looked down upon the lake of fire, I became aware of a blob of goo landing on me from above.  Having seen more than a few horror movies, I instantly swung to the right, pulling out my hook in a spray of spongy rock.  I drove it back into the cliff and desperately tried to regain my footholds on the collapsing surface.

●        You have increased your rank in Climbing.  You are now Novice.  The world is your tree.

Instantly, my grip felt better and I was able to pull myself up somewhat easier. 

Suddenly, there was an eruption above me, and a badger’s snout stuck out.  “Jim, ya stupid git,  I was afraid I was going to have to fight those Fire Sharks for ya.”

I chuckled.  “Any chance you could get us back to the top room?”

“Aye, I can do that.  As party leader, it would be my choice, though,” stated Badgelor.

“Badgelor, we are partners.  I screwed up, but you aren’t the party leader,” I said.

He said nothing for a moment.  “Partners, huh?  I guess I can live with that.”

Now that I was repositioned, I risked a glance upward.  I saw a small stream of fire seeping from the wall of the cavern.  A blob of flaming tar had landed on my ashen, grey cheek.   I could guess that the crack was about at the level where the room at the top of the stairs was, but I brought up my map to quickly confirm it. 

The climb up was interesting.  Badgelor had a burrowing speed that allowed him to travel through most kinds of rock, even magically depleted rock.  Because of that, he'd been able to make good progress.  I tried to climb after him in the tunnels, but that led to two issues.  The first was that I was getting buried by debris that crushed to dust when you touched it.  The second was that the walls would turn to dust while you tried to climb them.

Eventually, I had to ride Badgelor up.  Holding onto his neck, we managed to dig our way up and into the antechamber again.  I had half-expected another flood, but Badgelor had a sense that told him if the next room was full of liquid.  His freshly dug passage came out toward the top of the room, but, as his claws breached the chamber, there was an odd popping noise. 

The popping sound was followed by a sucking noise, as the room attempted to refill itself with air and equalize the pressure.  At least that was the same as Earth.  I spent the next several seconds popping my ears, but the pressure eventually evened out.  I realized that this chamber must have acted like a barometer, with the liquid emptying out of the room and creating a partial vacuum.  If I’d managed to stay here, I would have exploded. 

I wriggled over Badgelor, until I could properly enter the room. The badger watched me for a moment, before entering into the chamber himself.  “Now, you owe me a shoulder ride.”

I chuckled, standing in the room that was formerly filled with liquid 

For a moment the room was dark.  Then, I heard a splashing sound, and, suddenly, the room was ablaze again.  I swore, but my panic was short-lived.  There simply wasn’t that much oil, and the flame resistance Shart had given me provided protection against it.  I spotted the perpetrator of the light and noise a moment later.

●        Fire Shark Baby: Level 8

●        HP: 12/90

●        Stamina: 0/120

●        Mana: 20/20

The creature was suffocating, as the room it was in was now mostly empty.  The few small pools of water were insufficient to let it breathe.  I brought my hand up and cast Firebolt at it. 

“What did you expect that to do?” wondered Shart.

“Nothing actually,” I replied.  “I figured it might even recover Health from that attack.”

“Then, why do it?” asked the demon.

“It’s an aquatic creature in three inches of water.  I don’t think it's much of a threat,” I replied, walking over to the creature.  Not wanting to get slick oil all over my weapon’s hilt, I remembered my first weapon skill, Powerful Blow.  I glanced at the hook for a moment. 

It took three smacks, and I leveled up my Club skill. 

“What’s in the chamber that the oil came from?” I asked.

“It appears to be magically sealed.  I can’t tell,” replied Shart.  I glanced at him for a moment.  “And since I’m invisible and intangible, I should just go take a quick peek.”

Shart left us.  My dripping wet badger and I stood there for a long moment.  I used my hands to brush some of the oil off my chest.  I would need lots of water to do my face.  Badgelor expanded and shrank several times, causing most of the oil to fall off him. 

“Use my belly,” he said, after a moment.

I looked down at him, and he shrugged.  “I can get clean pretty easy, and that oil has to sting.  Wipe your face off with my belly.”

I thanked him, picked him up, and started using his belly fur to wipe off the massive amount of clotted oil on my face.  In the middle of me using Badgelor like a towel, Shart returned.

“What the hell are you two doing?” asked Shart.

I dropped Badgelor, who landed with a thump.  “I was just wiping off my face.”

Shart flew back and plopped onto my shoulder.  “Uh huh.  The room is clear.  It's just a large lake of oil, with a waterfall pouring into it.  There appears to be a path over it from the top.”

I considered for a moment, but the Suffocation effect was starting to get serious.  The air quality was quickly diminishing.  I could always loop back.  I flipped open my quest menu, only to shut it a moment later.  I didn’t have enough air to be worried about quests. 

I walked over to the door leading further into the dungeon and opened it.  A blessedly dark and stagnate blast of air hit me in the face, causing the Suffocating condition to vanish momentarily. 

“This is probably the much easier way to go,” I said, looking down the perfectly flat hallway.

“Most likely,” said Badgelor.

“Never been much of a fan of the easier way,” I stated, turning toward the secret door. 

Chapter 35: Underground Pumas

“Run, run, run,” I yelled, as another creature leapt at my side.  I slashed it, cleaving off a mandible.  Badgelor blasted another with his Destructive Gaze. 

“I have three marks at two and ten,” stated Shart, his pudgy, little hands waving in front of him.  His spell located three more of the new, underground beasts.

“Any of the larger ones?” I called out, as another creature lunged at me.  Its strike drove me back a pace, but the insect quickly caught a Firebolt to the head for its trouble.  I frantically searched for a way out of the room. 

“None,” stated Shart.  “I see two more paths out of here.  Both are on the right!”

“Badgelor, cut to the left!  I’ll take the leader,” I yelled out.

“I’m at forty-two.  This will push me up to forty-five,” yelled the badger, as he rushed forward.

“Damn it, Shart, he’s in the lead again,” I growled.  “Find me some more Underground Pumas!”

“These are large insects.  They are NOT pumas,” protested the demon, as his fingers continued flicking through the air.

“Any limitless group of creatures are Pumas!” I commented.

“These things are almost as tough as those Drak-ish, and you aren’t having any problems with them?” asked Shart, as I turned toward the tunnel.

“They are attacking just below my reaction speed, making them easy to dodge and attack,” I yelled, as I cast a double Fireball toward the room I was charging into.  Even with all of my perks and abilities, my Fireball spell required three different runes to function.  That fact rendered its explosiveness in a pretty limited way.  Shart had said the chamber was empty, but Shart had been wrong often enough that I knew it was useful to have a backup plan.

The tunnel that we were following had led us into some sort of magical insect hive.  In proper dungeon fashion, the mess of creatures inside didn’t seem to follow a logical pattern.  There were the smaller ones, which were some sort of oversized beetles the size of mastiffs.  Then, there were the larger ones, which were some sort of scorpion rivaling Badgelor’s largest size.  The scorpions were in the same league as the Dragon Kin we had fought earlier, which had changed our tactics somewhat.

Personally, of all of the various insects, I found the spiders to be the most trickiest.  They didn’t actually build webs, which would probably have been worse, but they were still annoying.

Something in the room screamed, as the hidden door it had constructed blew inward.  Its den filled with flames.  A massive Spider emerged.

●        Massive Trap Door Spider

●        Health: 280/280

●        Stamina: 300/300

●        Mana: 20/20

●        Biting Attack: Trap Door Spider’s bites do a combination of Poison and Piercing damage

●        Ambush Attacks: Attacks by a Trap Door Spider made from Stealth do extra damage.

“Damn it,” yelled Shart, as I executed a Thrust and drove my Flaming Sword deep into the creature's guts.  It shrieked as the ichor in its torso started to boil.  It swung one of its heavy legs at me threateningly.  I activated my Fancy Footwork skill and sidestepped out of the way.  The blow still came too close for comfort, as I Dodged. 

“Your spell just doesn’t work on spiders,” I said, slashing at the creature’s underside twice more before leaping backward.  The spider’s eyes hardened, and it charged after me.  “It's not like they are hard to find.  Any empty room probably has one.”

Shart harrumphed just as a pair of massive fangs bit down on his head.  Of course, he was intangible, so the spider’s actions didn’t do anything more than make Shart’s voice sound hollow.  “It's just that being so limited in this world is annoying.”

“Ha,” I yelled, hacking off a second leg, causing the spider to wobble.  I followed that up with Flame Stream, lighting up the creature’s backside.  “Think of how I feel.  You still have way more useful spells than I do.”

I focused, and cast Break Wind on the spider.  Nothing happened, as it lacked the appropriate bodily systems to actually break wind.  “See,” I said.

The spider was even more annoyed and started swinging its one remaining leg.  I dodged and wove backward.  I didn’t quite make it, and the creature’s sudden burst of speed was enough for the heavy razor, wire-like limb to smash into me, sending me sprawling backward.  I rolled to my feet and snarled.  The spider was leaking badly through its semi-cauterized stumps.  By now, its reach and speed should have been significantly reduced. 

“The most useful thing I’ve done for you lately was give you a vial of my blood.  You used it to make that poison that I’m not supposed to know about,” said Shart, eyeing me.

“Would the poison work on you?” I retorted, hacking off another leg on the creature’s left side.  The huge spider was down to only one leg, causing it to lose all sense of balance.

“Of course not,” growled the demon.  “Elder Demon’s blood poison will not work on me, an Elder Demon.”

“Then I don’t see the problem,” I said, preparing to make the final strike on the creature.  Out of nowhere, two purple beams tore into it, obliterating its head.

“I’m up to forty-six,” said Badgelor, “And I think I see the way out.”

“Feck,” I growled, “That doesn’t count.  I did all the work!”

Badgelor chuckled at that, and we both continued down the tunnel.  His tunnel and mine had merged up in the last chamber, which itself had only one exit.

“That’s strange,” I said.  “Every other room here has had monsters in it.”

“Isn’t it obvious?  The boss is in the next room,” stated Badgelor.

“Where are the health kits then?” I grumbled.

“What?” asked Shart.

“You know, health kits and ammo.  They are usually in the room right before the boss,” I said, looking around.

Shart laughed, “Hah, is this more of your stupid Earth logic?  Why would a boss monster leave health items right outside his chamber?”

“Found ‘em!” yelled Badgelor, pushing aside a rock.  Underneath it was a somewhat recently crushed goblin.  The pouch he was carrying contained three greater healing potions, each with an odd mark carved onto them.  Shart’s shoulders slumped. 

“Recognize this maker’s mark?” I asked, studying it.  Three serpents wrapped around each other, forming a triangle.  A serpent’s head made up each of the triangle’s points.  I vaguely recalled seeing this somewhere, but I couldn’t place it. 

“Nope,” replied the demon.

“Geeze, Jim,” said Badgelor, “You need to figure out how to get out of the way of all these strikes.”

I glanced down at my scarred and pockmarked armor.   Just under my reaction speed.  The suit was still at slightly more than half Durability, but it was starting to look pretty ragged.  I was sturdy enough to take a great number of hits, but this hang-up was causing me to get hit far too often for my liking. 

“I’ll be okay,” I said finally.

“Not if we end up fighting Charles,” grumbled Badgelor, wandering toward the next chamber.  He stopped near the exit and looked back at me.

“When I upgraded my Dodge skill to Fancy Footwork, I expected it to work better than this,” I said to Shart.  “I need to do better.”

“Well, Dum Dum, let me use the all-knowing mind of Shart to resolve this for you,” said the demon.  “Have you tried moving out of the way faster?”

I gave the demon a glance of disapproval.  “It has to be more than that.”

“I don’t know then.  Maybe stop trying to enter menu time every time you Dodge something,” said Shart.

“What?” I asked, pausing.

“Every time you Dodge an attack, you start to enter menu time.  When you do that, you don’t cycle up to full speed in that instant.  It's probably slowing your reaction time somewhat,” replied the demon.

“I didn’t know I was doing that.  Do other people have time slow down right before they Dodge?” I asked.

“No, of course not.  Well, except for magical duels, but those have their own rules.  Most people just use their skills the way they are supposed to,” replied Shart.  “Before you even ask, no, I don’t know how you are slipping into menu time when you Dodge.”

That made sense.  I’d figured out that the window to Dodge was getting shorter, not because I was getting worse at Dodging, but because everyone else was attacking much faster than before.  The time it was taking me to enter into menu time was making avoiding those strikes much harder.  Up until now, I’d been encountering targets whose skill level was about the equivalent to Journeyman.  That meant that even with entering menu time, I still had enough time to react.  It also meant that, ultimately, I was fighting with several hundred milliseconds of lag.  That wasn’t going to cut it much longer, not with each new monster attacking faster than the one before.

Plus, I had absolutely no idea how I was doing it. 

“Quit staring at your navel,” yelled Badgelor.  “I want to eat some boss insect!”

I walked over slowly, thinking about the problems.  How was I dropping into menu time, and how could I stop it?  Nothing came to me in the short walk.  Soon, I was standing next to Badgelor.

We were looking into another chamber, this one with a significant dip going toward the center.  The ground looked more earthy than hard rock, and there were numerous boulders scattered throughout.

“Scorpion?” I asked.

“Not quite sure,” said Badgelor.  “Could be, but the scent is off.”

“Thoughts?” I asked Shart, adjusting the grip on my sword again.  It turned out that spider guts were really good at breaking up oil. 

“You are an idiot,” replied the demon.

“I think there is a monster in there,” said Badgelor sagely. 

“Let's go then,” I grinned and stepped into the room. 

Chapter 36: Badgelor’s Two Best Friends

The chamber was a broad basin with a hefty-sized piece of rock in the middle.  The whole room might have been the size of a baseball diamond, if one was being generous.  The ceiling was the same craggy rock that filled the rest of the area.  Six torches, burning a bright, blue light, were positioned equally around the room.

“See, this looks like a boss room,” I said, as we got our first clear look at the chamber.  Badgelor stepped in on my left, in his medium size.  He was large enough for something to take him seriously, and it still left him one size in reserve, in case he needed it. 

“If it's a trap door spider, I’m not seeing it,” said Shart, as his hands waved around. 

“You haven't seen the last three,” grumbled Badgelor.

“Four,” I replied, causing Shart to stomp his little foot on my shoulder.  Badgelor chuckled. 

“Found him,” said the demon.

“Wow, I’m impressed!  Your spell worked,” I said.

“No,” replied the demon, looking straight up.  “I’d jump forward right about now.”

I leapt forward and to my right, just as a massive stinger blasted to my left side.  A thunderous sound, like a whip snapping, quickly followed.  Badgelor reacted likewise, spinning around and spotting the massive, spider-like creature.

“It's fecking half scorpion!” exclaimed the badger, as he charged forward.  He was rewarded with a stinger to the side for his trouble.  Badgelor stumbled backward, as the stinger swung toward him twice more.  The hybrid creature moved so quickly that my eyes couldn’t even track it.  Badgelor took both shots but managed to catch them in the rolls of his fur.  Thankfully, that was able to minimize his Damage. 

An instant later, twin purple beams erupted from Badgelor’s eyes.  One beam glanced off the tail of the creature, while the other beam missed entirely.  I took the opportunity to use Lore.

●        Scorpider, Floor Boss

●        Hp 1600/1600

●        Stamina: 800/800

●        Mana: 200/200

●        Perks: Improved Pincer Attack, Rapid Sting, Improved Rapid Sting, Potent Poison

●        Scorpider’s are a hybrid creature capturing the best qualities of both Scorpions and Spiders.  They are especially dangerous in their Lairs, which one should never stumble into. 

“Well, that is unfortunate,” I said, sheathing my sword.  I began to cast BioLightning.  The motions caught the attention of the Scorpider’s spider eyes, and a ball of thick webbing fired out of his mouth.  I dodged it, but the action caused me to lose my spell. 

“I thought they shot webbing out of their ass?” I muttered, rolling back to my feet to prepare the spell again.

“You thought Scorpider’s shot webbing from their ass?” chuckled Shart from his position on the floor.

“Wait, how did you get off my shoulder?’ I continued, as Badgelor and the Scorpider wrestled. 

“Funny thing.  Apparently, that thing’s webbing can catch immaterial objects.  Don’t worry, though.  I’m pretty sure it can’t actually eat me,” said Shart.

“If it did, that poison you call blood would kill it,” I commented, as the spell completed.  I yelled the word of power, “Guyver.”  The instant I shouted it, the Scorpider leapt off the ground and onto the craggy ceiling.  I held up my hand and blasted it anyway, but at least part of the bolt was deflected by the rocky ceiling.  The Scorpider shot another blob of webbing at me. 

Badgelor was busy blasting it with his Destructive Gaze, and it only took a few moments before the creature leapt down and went after the badger again.  Leaving Shart to his fate, I attempted to close with my sword.  It should have been an easy strike, now that the creature was on the ground with its back to me.   However, it turned out to be a mistake.

The instant I closed, the Scorpider’s tail lashed out at me.  I didn’t even realize it was coming, until after it struck me.

●        You have taken 25 points of assorted Damage.  Stinger Piercing Damage 10, Stinger Poison Damage 15, you have the condition Poisoned

●        You are being attacked.  Would you like to use Fancy Footwork to avoid the attack? (Yes/No)

The attack already hit.  Why did I get the prompt to Dodge after I’d already been hit? 

The Scorpider realized who the easier target was and started swinging its stinger toward me.  Again and again, it swung.  Each strike was enough to send me back a pace. 

There would be a moment where my Fancy Footwork prompt would start to form, right after the stinger impacted.  I would stare at the place a prompt should appear, willing it to come faster.  Each strike seemed to make the prompt take longer to appear.  On the tenth strike, the monster’s poison had filled me to the point that my knees felt like water.  I fell over backward, entirely unable to move. 

I lay paralyzed for a while, with Shart screaming in my ear.  Finally, Badgelor was above me, trying to fend off the creature by himself.  I continued to lay uselessly below him.  In my poisoned state, I thought about meatballs, of all things.  My thoughts then roamed to beans, golf balls, teabags, and. . .

Suddenly, my eyes snapped open.

“WHY,” I screamed, as Badgelor’s furry balls danced across my face. 

“Get up, ya fecker!  I can’t hold this arsehole off forever,” yelled Badgelor.

I could only move my neck, and only a little at that.  Badgelor was hanging low and loose, as he dodged to either side.  Every move he made to avoid the creature caused his low-hanging fruit to bounce off my forehead.  On top of everything else, I tried to ignore it.  I tried to block out what was happening, when something magical happened.

My head jerked to the side, and Badgelor’s coin purse narrowly missed my face.  As I stared on in wonder, his love spuds made a return visit.  They plopped onto my face for a moment, before Badgelor was driven back. 

“What happened?  I dodged them,” I half croaked.  I tried to reason out what I’d just done, as Badgelor’s giblets smacked into the top of my head. 

“He has to be fighting to intentionally get his balls on your face as much as possible,” said Shart. “I mean, they have been everywhere at this point.”

“I wasn’t thinking about that,” I said.

“I wouldn’t be, either.  I mean, seriously, they look like overripe watermelons,” groaned Shart. “He sorely needs to get a girlfriend.”

“If I find a polymorph scroll, I’m going to have Jim turn you into a female badger,” stated Badgelor.

Shart started to chuckle, then considered my earlier luck with scrolls.  His eyes went wide. 

Clearing my mind, I waited.  Suddenly, my head snapped to the side, as Badgelor’s gonads zipped by.  A moment later, my head lurched again, narrowly avoiding a quick visit with the boys.  Then again, as Badgelor’s marbles raced by.  The poison expired, and I could move.  I rolled to my feet, facing the Scorpider.

“Jim, ya fecker, get behind me!  Blast it with lightning,” ordered Badgelor.

I stood there, watching the creature. The tail flashed toward me, its stinger dripping poison.  My body gracefully arced to the side, narrowly avoiding the strike.  The stinger flashed forward again, and I Dodged it effortlessly.  By the next strike, I had my sword out.  I let my body know what to do, and my body responded.

The stinger tore toward me.  I sidestepped and brought my sword down in a slash that sent the tail into the dirt.  The Scorpider stepped forward, its two pincer claws moving to snap me in half.  I flowed like calm water between both, slashing it across the face.

“Whoa, Jim,” said Shart, impressed. 

The creature continued to strike, but it was only a distraction at this point.  Each pinch, bite, or strike with its tail was simple to avoid.  Soon, the Scorpider bore a litany of wounds across its body from the effort.  I had achieved zen, a perfect calmness.  In this, the Scorpider could not intrude. 

I could have ended the battle faster, but there was no need.  My Fancy Footwork was ready to move up to Expert, and I had Stamina to burn.  Occasionally, Badgelor would blast it with his Destructive Gaze or move in to strike.  Overall, I just dodged and slashed, until the creature finally collapsed.

“That was amazing,” said Badgelor, congratulating me.  “Usually, you suck at fighting, but you were really great.”

“Yes,” agreed Shart.  “Normally, watching you fight is like watching a dead cat decaying on the side of the road.  That, though?  That was poetry.”

“You solo-ed a boss,” said Badgelor, causing me to raise an eyebrow.

“Yes, but because Dum Dum is your pe- erm, companion, you both get equal shares of experience,” said Shart.  “None of your party members are close enough to share any.”

“I’m at max level,” I said.

“I’m not”, said Badgelor, and I realized that ‘we’ had earned some new Beast Master talents.  I had also earned a new Mage Knight talent.  Actually, I had a host of prompts at the bottom of my vision. 

●        Fancy Footwork has leveled up to Expert.  Please choose a Fancy Footwork perk.

●        Sword has leveled up to Expert.  Please choose a Sword perk

●        Alchemy has leveled up to Journeyman.  Please choose an Alchemy perk.

●        Monster Lore has leveled up to Journeyman.  Please choose a Monster Lore perk.

Badgelor was busily devouring the Scorpider’s corpse, so I started searching for treasure.  That process didn’t take very long, as I quickly found a chest. 

●        Scorpow, Scorpion Venom Crossbow with Webbing attachment

●        Venom Sting, Component.  The Scorpider’s stinger can be used as a crafting component to make a weapon.

●        Chitin armor: Improved heavy armor

●        Spider’s amulet: Stick to walls

“Holy shit,” I said, looking over the treasure trove.  There were also over one hundred and eighty gold pieces, but, compared to the other equipment, it was meaningless.

“Should I be worried about cursed items?” I asked Shart, eyeing the horde.

“I already checked.  They are all clear.  Keep in mind, that’s not usually the case in dungeons.”

I quickly stripped off my dented armor and shoved it into my extradimensional storage, before putting on the Chitin armor.  It was a shiny black material that felt lighter than I expected.  I also would have expected it to be weaker than my steel armor, but, according to its stats, it was actually 2 points more durable and granted me 50% poison resistance.

Next, I grabbed the Scorpow.  It was a very strange looking crossbow.  It looked like something HR Giger and Ikea had cobbled together while drunk.  I’d used one of them before, though.  In fact, I still had one in Shart’s storage, if I ever needed it.  However, this crossbow was a bit different.  Looking down the chamber, it appeared that there wasn’t any room to insert a bolt.  I experimentally tried to reload it, but there didn’t seem to be a mechanism.

Activating Mana Control, I infused the weapon with a slight amount of Mana.  It looked dim, due to being unattuned.  Since Badgelor was still gorging himself on Scorpider, I took the time necessary to attune the weapon.  As my Mana seeped into it, I became aware of its capabilities.  Its current issue was that it lacked poison. 

Walking over to Badgelor, who was busy gnawing on a leg, I pulled out one of my daggers.  Carefully, I began to cut into the Scorpider’s tail, searching for the poison gland.  Thanks to my Poisoner perk, the gland was highlighted in purple.  It only took me a few moments to expose it and cut it out.

“Thanks, that stuff gives me gas,” stated Badgelor. 

“Considering how much of that stuff is in my system, we all better hope it doesn’t,” I said, delicately expressing the venom into vials.  Once I had milked that gland for all it was worth,  I discarded it over my shoulder.  Then, I carefully poured a small amount of the raw poison into the back of the Scorpow. 

I reached back to cock it with its almost syringe-like plunger and felt the weapon drawing slight amounts of Mana from me.  Checking my bars, I confirmed it was only a single point of Mana that I quickly replenished.  The fast result of the poison was impressive.  The venom had formed itself into a magical green bolt.  I inhaled sharply.  Lifting the weapon to my shoulder, I aimed at a nearby rock and activated my Power Shot skill. 

●        Rock takes 65 points of assorted Damage.  (50 Points of Poison Damage and 15 Points of Piercing Damage)  Cost:10 Mana.

“Can rocks take Poison Damage?” I asked.

“From magical sources, sure,” replied Shart, glancing at the hissing green rock. 

The familiar sensation of lockdown that my other crossbow caused didn’t happen, but I also didn’t get the extra boost that my mechanical crossbow gave me.  I considered that for a moment and decided it was a wash.  The extra power was useful, but locking out my Mana pool put me at an extreme disadvantage.  Now, I could use a crossbow without crippling myself.

●        Magic Shot, Damage 65 Magical.  Cost: 10 Mana

I could also still use my Magic Shot, allowing me to do a double shot like I had been before.  The cost of the Magic Shot was much greater than when I was shooting a regular bow, but I didn’t need to cock the crossbow, either.  As I was focusing on the Magic Shot, I realized that there was a new shot option.

●        Web Shot, Damage 0, Entangling.  Cost: 2 Mana

Next, I tried the new Web Shot.  That seemed to be a kind of shot specifically for this bow.  It caused a solid glob of webbing to fly out and stick to whatever it hit.  It got better, though.  If I concentrated, I could make it stick to the bow as well, allowing me to quickly generate a rope.  There were even handholds on the weapon to make it easier to hold while swinging.

Reaching backward, I slapped the Scorpow to my back.  It instantly adhered there with some webbing.  No amount of shaking would break it loose, but when I reached for it, the weapon came right off. 

“SueLeeta is going to have a cow,” I chuckled.

“Surprised you aren’t going to give it to her,” stated Badgelor.

“I’m sure she’s found a better bow by now.  Besides, I’m a gentleman, not an idiot,” I said, petting my bow protectively.

“Debatable,” deadpanned Shart.

I held the tip of the stinger.  Even without the poison, the stinger was painful and cruel looking.  Small spines ran the length of its tip.  With my crafting skills, I could already see a half-dozen different ways of adding it to my weaponry.  Alas, all of them would take equipment and materials I did not have.  I’d just have to make do with the totally awesome Scorpow.

“The amulet is less obvious,” said Shart, “But it grants Spiderwalk.  That allows you to walk on walls, like a spider, for up to fifteen minutes a day.  Don’t ask, Dum Dum.  You can’t wear two amulets at a time, unless you have two heads.”

I looked down at my groin.

“Well, you have about as many brains in that one as you do the one on your neck, but no.  For some odd reason, penises don’t count,” said Shart sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

“I’ll have you know my wife said I did most of my thinking with that one,” I smiled. 

“That explains a lot,” said Badgelor.

“That’s what’s wrong with you?  You lack experience thinking with your brain and not your head?  I see,” said Shart, before he lifted off my shoulder. 

“For your information, it was perfect,” I said calmly. 

“Well, it's not now,” grumbled Shart. 

I picked up the amulet.  It was impressive, exuding more power than my Amulet of Shadows.  I was considering my options, when Badgelor looked over at me.

“Can I have that?” he asked.

I looked at the tiny strap holding the amulet and perceived that it was magical.  “Sure.  I’m curious to see how that fits.”

“It's always so annoying.  For you humans, it's a nice little necklace.  However, that’s not the case for me,” grumbled the badger.  He pushed the metal spider symbol onto his neck, and the little leather cord that was supposed to hold it expanded.  First the cord thickened.  Then, it grew much longer to accommodate Badgelor’s massive neck.  By the time it was done, the amulet was very clearly a collar.  Badgelor looked upset and happy at the same time. 

He walked over to the wall and placed his front paws on it.  Within moments, he had climbed to the ceiling and was standing overtop me.  I stepped to the side as he released and flipped, landing neatly on all four paws.

“That’ll do, Jim.  That’ll do,” stated Badgelor.

“Are you ready to kill Charles now?” I asked.

“Yes!  I can feel that we are getting closer to him.  Pretty soon, I’ll spot the bugger.  Then, it's curtains for him,” stated Badgelor.  He headed for the exit that led deeper into the dungeon.

“Hopefully, we will find Charles soon,” I said, rubbing my face with my hands.  I debated taking a healing potion but decided to hold off for the time being.

“Me too.  It would be nice to finally get rid of Badgelor,” stated Shart.

“Maybe he’ll calm down once we kill Charles,” I retorted.

“Imagine Badgelor calm,” chuckled Shart. 

I grinned like a loon, feeling some blood from my earlier wounds run down my cheek and into my mouth.  It tasted like badger balls.

“Damn it, Badgelor,” I said.

Chapter 37: Skills and Powers

“I think we are getting closer,” I stated, as I attempted to sense where my other party members were.

“You could just check the map,” grumbled Shart.

“I’ve already zoomed out as much as I can.  From what I can tell, they aren’t on it,” I stated. 

Shart grumbled more and reached into my mind.  Instead of going toward the group, he began retracing our steps.  Pretty soon, he was back up the crevice and to the floor where everyone else had been. 

I got some notifications on the map about where treasure had been located, based on SueLeeta’s findings.  Shart spun the map around for a moment, then found the door they had traveled through last.  He zipped off in that direction for a while.  Several rooms and a boss later, the demon found five of them sitting around a fire.

“Dungeons are non-Euclidean space.  There are only a few constant points, so you sensing them ‘that way’ means jack and also shit,” stated Shart.  I tried to see where I was on the map, but I was lost to the strange folds that made up the space.  Zooming in, I could at least see all my party members were alive, and that their health bars were full.  Several of them were low on Stamina, though.

“Bashara’s not there,” I said.

“I didn’t see her anywhere else,” replied Shart, before grinning wildly.  “Guess that situation sorted itself out.”

I wanted to say something, but I didn’t have any witnesses around.  I opted to keep my mouth shut. 

I glanced at my Stamina bar and realized I was in the same boat.  There was no nefarious reason for it.  We had been in here for hours, and everyone was tired.  I looked around for a place to rest.  Now that I wasn’t fully engaged in battle, I had to admit that this place was pretty spectacular. 

We were in a natural looking cavern with a massive waterfall on one side.  The entire floor was  made of jagged rocks, with a single stream cutting through the middle.  You could have flown a jumbo jet through here, the cavern was so vast.  We were about half-way up one side, and there was a massive bridge spanning the cavern.  The bridge curved, so I couldn’t see what was on the other side.  Our side had a nice covering of moss with a small fire pit in the center. 

“Safe zone?” I asked, as I stepped into it.  Badgelor stepped past me and plopped down in the moss.  He promptly started snoring. 

“Yes, it’s fairly normal after a boss to run into one of these,” said Shart.  “I could explain the reason, but you wouldn’t be interested in it.”

“I have perks to go over,” I said.  There was a poof from my shoulder.  Shart hated it when I tried to figure out my perks, but it still needed done.

Flipping over to Alchemy, I was actually interested in how I’d earned enough Skill Points to level that particular skill.  With Jarra the Healer making potions constantly, I hadn’t had much need to practice.  Turning to my skill logs, I found the reason quickly enough.  I had suffered hundreds of points of Poison Damage, but my Poisoner perk reduced that Damage by 50%.  Because I had that perk, whenever I took Poison Damage, I’d also get Skill Points.  I’d taken an absurd amount of Damage. 

As it was a crafting perk, all the bonuses seemed to be moving in that direction.  Dual Flasks let you make two potions at once, if you had twice the normal amount of ingredients.  Miserly Flask let you make more doses for less reagents, but the benefits didn’t include rare ingredients.  Those options didn’t look appealing, so I continued sifting through the dozen or so possible perks.  Finally, I spotted Superior Weapon Oils.  That one was more impressive.

●        Superior Weapon Oils: You can turn any base potion into an oil.  When crafting a weapon oil, you can apply a mixture to the formula to allow additional properties.

Whenever I leveled up my skills, I tended to pick up a bit more poison knowledge. I knew oils were superior ways to put poison on blades.  That was my biggest issue with general poison use at the moment.  More often than not, I couldn’t actually get the poison where I needed it, when I needed it.  Furthermore, most of the poisons I knew how to make didn’t easily convert into an oil.  This corrected everything, all at once. 

The application of a mixture was also handy.  Mixtures were kind of like chasers for potions that would grant them additional effects.  Jarra the Healer could do that for healing potions.  At least one of the healing potions I’d gotten from her also granted a Stamina buff.  The problem was that mixtures tended to degrade after a while, at which point both the potion and the buff typically stopped working. 

I selected Superior Weapon Oils and moved on.

Monster Lore was easier.  As a Woodsman, I had Hunter’s Lore, which was an improved version of general Lore.  However, Lore itself had many categories, from Insect Lore all the way up to Demon Lore.  I had dozens of ranks in Lore.  In this case, my Monster Lore had finally leveled because magical insects that were hybrids of two species were Monsters.  The other creatures, the ones that were mostly just big scorpions or spiders, were classified by the <system> as insects. 

As usual, the bigger and meaner the creature was, the more Skill Points you gained.  Fighting a boss Monster was a huge gain; fighting house flies was not.  The perks for Monster Lore were actually pretty simple, broken down into two general categories.  You could choose something that gave you faster information, or you could choose something that gave you more detailed information.  They were pretty narrowly defined.  I took a moment and found one with more detailed information that I liked.

●        Improved Monster Criticals: Locations where a strike would cause increased Damage will highlight in your vision.

That seemed the most helpful, so I selected it.

That left me with Swords and Fancy Footwork.  Swords was, likewise, a pretty simple choice.  I had enough defensive options, so I focused on Damage.  When I’d hit Journeyman a long time back, I’d taken Unavoidable Strike.  It let me use the Force of my Will to strike a target unerringly.  That was great, but I’d frequently had to make some compromises to get it to activate.  Now, I was looking for a purely passive benefit.  I found one quickly enough, when I spotted Enhanced Damage. 

There were damage types for physical attacks.  At the lowest level, it was simply untyped Damage, which I was tremendously resistant against.  After that, you got up to the higher tier damages, like Slashing, Piercing, and Bludgeoning.  Those had better results when striking a target.  A Slashing strike could sever a limb, while a strike that simply caused Damage would just give you a bruise. 

My Soldier’s Longsword did about half Slashing and half normal Damage.  Thanks to my Sword Master perk, I also did 2 points of Severing damage.  Severing was the more serious version of Slashing damage.  Where it took 10-20 points of Slashing Damage to remove a limb, a Severing attack could do it in 5-10. 

Plus, armor on Ordinal mitigated Damage.  My armor caused a certain amount of Damage to be converted from Severing to Slashing, and from Slashing to Damage.  The higher damage types were always harder to resist, so anything that could reduce such Damage was a plus.

That’s what I was looking for, Enhanced Damage.  It would turn absolutely all of my Damage into Slashing Damage.  It would also make my strikes much harder to ignore.

That left me with Fancy Footwork.  When I’d first hit Journeyman, while training with Glorious Robert, I’d taken Combat Reflexes.  It was supposed to further enhance my reaction time, especially versus attacks from multiple opponents.  Yet, when I’d chosen that perk, it didn’t seem to change anything. Now, I wondered what it was going to do, because I didn’t have an accurate yardstick. 

I scanned through Fancy Footwork, searching for something to pick.  Unfortunately, the Journeyman perks could be divided into two categories, better Dodges or closer Footwork.  The problem with focusing Fancy Footwork toward Dodging or Footwork meant it became a more expensive version of that skill. I needed to pick something that made Fancy Footwork better.

As per usual, there were too many options to review.  Filtering to find something useful was impossible, based on my criteria.  Except. . . 

Instead of trying to filter out the options I didn’t want, I used my filter to deselect all the perks that met the criteria of being either a better Dodge or a better sidestep.  That left me with only a few options. 

The first was called Leaf in the Wind.  It simply ignored the penalties for avoiding multiple attacks.  Given that additional attacks increased the cost of Dodging, Leaf in the Wind held some potential.  Next was Whipping Willow Branch, which let you avoid an attack in such a way that you’d be in an optimal position to counterattack.  Finally, I saw another Force of Will perk.  I had to take it. 

●        You have gained the perk, Perfect Dodge.  You can, without fail, avoid any one attack directed at your person.  Cost: 30 Stamina, 1 Force

My Force pool also increased by one, for a total of two points.  I was living the dream.

The Mage Knight choice was also easy.  I had spotted a talent called Weapon Channeling.  It allowed you to channel your spells through your weapon like it was a wand.  That didn’t sound impressive, until you realized it meant that I didn’t need to have a hand free to cast certain spells.  Those just so happened to include almost all of my Biological Aeromancy spells. 

Sitting down next to Badgelor, I flicked my fingers toward the firepit and ignited the loose sticks that were there.  Shart was sitting on the stones, and, as the fire started to burn, he sighed contentedly.  The demon concentrated on the fire for a moment, and it began burning brighter. 

‘Magic could do just about anything,’ I thought and recalled that I’d leveled up Arcane Lore to Journeyman.  I hadn’t selected a perk at the time, mainly because I didn’t have any idea what I was doing.  Now, I did have an idea.  I found what I was looking for quickly enough.

●        Arcane Scribe: Allows you to develop and record advanced magical runes.

Each magical spell was cast using runes.  Those runes were similar, but not identical to, the magical runes I used when inscribing something.  So far, my main issue had been that I was using basic runes, which were both simple to use and underpowered.

The main reason for that was, in order to make a spell work, you had to use those runes to program the spell.  The instructions I had for those programs were very simple.  The second issue was that I could only maintain a certain number of runes at once, and that number was six.  Beyond that, I couldn’t focus enough to keep the runes functional for the spell. 

That was what made my simple spells, like Flame Stream, do more Damage than the more complicated spells, like Fireball.  When I cast Flame Stream, there was one rune to make the spell into a stream, and a second rune to make it burn.  Fireball had a similar effect, but required three runes.  I could stack additional runes, using the pair of Flame Stream runes three times while casting, and I’d get a spell that was three times more powerful.  With Fireball, I could only do that twice, so it tended to be less effective than I hoped.

However, with BioLightning, I’d combined the Aeromancy runes with a Lightning Bolt’s runes and compressed them into a single rune.  That meant I could stack BioLightning up to six times.  Doing so required quite a bit of mental focus to pull off, but I could do it.  I’d combined those runes with Arcane Lore.  Doing so had improved that skill. 

I reviewed all of my casting runes using Arcane Lore.  I quickly found that, of the ones I knew, only the ones in the Fireball spell would actually work to make Fireballs.  I got a solid impression that the other runes would be explosively incompatible. 

Next, I examined all three runes of the Fireball spell.  I studied them from all sides, until I was comfortable with them.  Each rune was like a three dimensional letter.  For example, the ‘ball’ part of the Fireball spell was a cube with thick and thin lines connecting it.  The lines didn’t follow a pattern that I could recognize, even with Arcane Lore, so I didn’t know what would happen if I got the rune wrong.  I assumed it would go poorly.

Combining the runes involved little more than sliding them together mentally.  That had to be done in just the right way, so that all the parts connected correctly.  Eventually, as I fiddled, something clicked.

●        You have crafted Advanced Rune: Fireball.  The Fireball rune combines Fire, Launch, and Ball runes.

I stepped out of the circle and walked along the bridge a bit.  After doing a quick Puma check, I found a good spot to practice. The bridge hadn’t come straight out of our side of the wall, so I’d found a nice spot near the edge, where a stalagmite had given up the ghost a long time ago. 

The nearby wall seemed off, but a quick glance didn’t reveal any threats.  I could investigate it in a little bit.  Right now, it was magic time.   I could sense Shart but not clearly.  I was just at the edge of him being too far away.  Holding my hand up, I prepared to cast my new and improved Fireball. 

●        Word of Power is required to cast the spell.

I considered for a moment, but there was really only one choice.  “Spaghetti!”

The spell formed into a pea of pure fire, just like a regular Fireball spell.  I gestured, and it launched forward and exploded into a pile of rocks for 20 points of Damage.  I grinned.  Now for the hard part.  Hoping my Flameology was up to the task, I started stacking Fireball runes, until I reached my limit of six.  The Fireball was the size of a grape and thrummed with power.  I gently pulled my hand away, after I finished casting it.  The small orb of fire hovered, waiting for me to Will it at a target.

As I looked around for another target, all I could see was a rock.  Hatred burned in my heart for that one foul object.  “Fuck you, rock.”

The second spell was far more powerful, causing the offending rock to be blasted to bits.  It was also much louder.  I heard a voice in my head.  “Dum Dum, would you mind telling me WHAT THE FUCK YOU ARE DOING?”

“Hey, Shart,” I replied, “Killing rocks?”

“Well, that is always a worthwhile endeavor, but do I smell advanced rune?” asked Shart.  I felt him begin to root through my mind. 

“I made an advanced Fireball rune,” I replied.

“Of all the stupid, moronic. . .” began Shart, as he glanced at it.  Then, he peered out from my eyes, taking in the blasted bits of stone that had made up the rock.  “Um, you actually didn’t do that bad a job.”

“That’s high praise from you,” I said.

“I realize that.  After that BioLightning you made, I was concerned you’d have gone off half-cocked again.  This is fairly decent work,” stated Shart. 

Aw, he can be nice.

Drawing into my Mana reserves, I went to cast the spell again.  I was unpleasantly surprised to discover that the Mana and Stamina cost of BioLightning had skyrocketed into something obscene.

“You are still on cooldown.  Advanced runes take a lot longer to cool down in your Mana network, especially if you stack them,” said Shart. 

“Why didn’t you say so?” I asked, flipping over to Sorcerer and preparing the spell again.  The Mana cost was normal, and it was worth experimenting with.  I yelled out the word of power and blasted the bits of rock into powder.

“Clever,” said Shart, nodding.  “I really hadn’t thought about the advantages that having two Mana networks would give you.  If you flipped between them, you could probably do some things that would be rather impressive.”

I generated a Fireball in each hand, straining as I got to the last rune.  I tried to pull my hands away, but I couldn’t Will myself to do so.  Instead, for a long moment, I held both Fireballs together in an outright anime-style pose.  Then, I thrust my hands out into a double Fireball. 

“Well, the cooldown on that is going to be forever,” I chuckled, flipping back over to Sorcerer.  That Fireball had just come off cooldown, so I generated another one at half the strength and held it there.

“Are you trying to cook your hand?” asked Shart.  I pulled my hand away and looked at the glowing ball of fire.  The Fireball flickered for a moment, as I tried to reinforce it mentally.  After a minute, it stabilized. 

“No, just seeing how long I can maintain it,” I answered.

“Should be a long while, but it's not smart to leave magic like that out.  Someone could hit it with an arrow and detonate it in your face,” stated Shart.

I reached up and grabbed the floating orb, holding it in my left hand.  Looking at my right, I shrugged and began gathering up more Mana.

“What are you doing now?” asked Shart.

“This,” I said, trying to cast BioLightning.  Instead, I caused the spell to fizzle and pop before fading.  I had to mentally reinforce the Fireball as well. 

“Don’t do that,” said Shart.  “You already have a link to your Fire Core going.  Linking in your Biological Aeromancy core is going to cause feedback on your Mana network.”

“Really,” I said, flipping back over to Mage.  Shart’s eyes got buggy, as I was able to draw in my Mana and Stamina to form a BioLightning spell.

“Easy peasy,” I said, chuckling.  I held both hands up for Shart to inspect.

“Well, I’ll be!  I’ve never seen that before,” stated Shart, as he moved his head closer to examine the spells.  A small current of electricity shot out of the held BioLightning, but Shart was nearly invulnerable to magic.  He ignored it.  Next, a wisp of flame shot out from the Fireball.  Shart paid it even less attention. 

I remember the exact moment those two streams of magic collided.  They seemed to wrap around each other and then pull, like they were somehow entwined.  I didn’t even have a moment to react before my wrists slapped together with bone-bruising force.  The Fireball and the BioLightning merged into a singular point of energy only a few inches from Shart’s face.  The demon screamed, as a flash of something that was neither fire nor lightning flickered away from the ball.

●        Shart has suffered 27 points of Plasma Damage. Shart has suffered Critical Damage. Dimensional storage compromised.

Shart screamed, the sliver of plasma having cut through him like a hot knife through butter.  Even as I felt the ball of plasma start to wobble, a streak of fluid slipped past my fingers and through my wrist. 

●        You have suffered 58 points of Plasma Damage.  Your ulna has been severed, Mitigate inapplicable.  Wound will take 40 Hit Points to recover.

Iron Will had nothing on this.  I screamed but forced myself to stay standing, as I tried to hold the bolt in place.  I was able to direct most of the plasma away from me, but even the slightest bit would cut through anything it hit. 

“Counterspell it,” cried Shart, his left eye missing entirely from where the plasma had gotten him.  “Plasma is the highest form of magic!  It will overload anything it touches.  You have to get rid of it!”

Reaching out with my mind, I grabbed at my own spell and began to leech the power out of it. For a moment, it appeared that draining the plasma might work.  Then, one of the bolts of plasma nearly cut off my hand.  I decided to leave it in place by yanking my hands back.  That was a mistake.  If you take your hands away from an existing spell, that spell becomes harder to maintain.  It was everything I could manage to contain that ball of plasma.

That’s when I heard the claws fervently clicking.  “Jim, ya daft bugger!”  Badgelor leapt past me and slammed bodily into the ball of plasma, his inertia carrying him over the side of the bridge.  He sailed down for a long moment.  Then, there was a blisteringly bright flash of light, right before a wave of searing heat hit me. 

Half-blind and in agony, I stumbled backward, falling down.  I frantically reached out toward Badgelor.  My heart jumped into my throat at the realization that I couldn’t sense him at all.

Chapter 38:  And Then There Were Two

I don’t think I passed out, but I had to check the logs to be sure.  I had been temporarily blinded from the explosion.  Once I recovered my vision, I slowly got to my feet.  My wrist was ruined.  A dark, black scar cut through the flesh.  I could see two blackened hunks from my ulna, the main bone of my wrist destroyed. 

“Badgelor,” I croaked, stumbling back over to the edge of the bridge.  With all the spots I was seeing, I couldn’t find him. 

“I’m sure he’s fine.  Your magic can barely hurt him,” stated Shart, plopping back down on my shoulder.  He was glaring at me with his one eye.  “Where did you see him last?”

I gestured off the side of the bridge and into the vast cavern beyond.  The bridge was hundreds of feet up, and you had your choice of jagged rocks or whitewater to land in.  Shart paled.

“Oh,” said Shart, waving his hands about.  “That is unfortunate.”

“Did you find him?” I mouthed, pulling out a healing potion.

“No, but I did find them,” stated the demon, gesturing toward a swarm of bat-like creatures.  They were heading right for us.  As they closed, I realized they were enormously large.

“Bats eat bugs, right?” I asked, considering the massive size of the insects we had just fought.

“Oh, you are so screwed,” stated Shart, looking around.  “We should probably find a way out of here.”

A quick glance at the safe zone and I knew, somehow, that it wasn’t safe anymore.  If I had to guess, it was because I killed my companion or aggroed the entire room.  In either case, I needed to find another way out. 

Across the bridge was much too long, and back the way we came was still full of the giant insects.  Somehow, I doubted those wide caves would be too much trouble for the bats. 

“What about that?” asked Shart, gesturing at the wall behind me.  Where I thought I’d detected something before, I could now see an open door, leading to somewhere.  I nodded and started to chug a healing potion.  Shart stopped me.

“Let me see that,” he said and grabbed my arm.  Even through Iron Will, the pain was intense.  He poured the potion into the wound, causing the two halves of bone to fuse.  The flesh around it knit back together.

The pain of it dropped me to my knees.  “When Jarra the Healer does that, it doesn’t hurt.”

“Jarra the Healer probably knows what she is doing,” replied Shart.  “It’s right in the name.  Jarra the HEALER.”  I stumbled through the door and closed it behind us with a click. 

It was dark for a moment, as the door shut.  I flicked over to Mage and sent Mana through my eyes, bringing the room into stark relief.  We were standing in a stairwell, heading down.  My Tracking skill picked up goblin footprints.  

I’d killed Badgelor.

“It appears so,” said Shart, answering my thought.  “All because you were fucking around with magic.”

“All he ever wanted to do was eat, swim in corpses, and kill Charles,” I said, reminiscing about my homicidal little companion.  I leaned my back against the door and slid to the floor.  That promptly caused the door to open up, and a massive bat the size of a horse reached in and grabbed at me.

“Guyver,” I muttered, sending a bolt of BioLightning at its face, causing it to release me.  I pressed a button, and the door closed again.  I turned to the side and slumped down.

“I didn’t think anything could kill that little idiot,” I said softly.

“You are in a dungeon.  People die.  Companions die,” said Shart. 

“You said you could raise me from the dead once.  Could you do that for Badgelor?” I asked.

“Assuming you could find some of him, I could.  I won’t, but I could.  I need that spell to help defeat the Dark Overlord, and Badgelor isn’t going to be doing that,” said Shart.  He bowed his head slightly before continuing, “Sorry.  I know we got on your nerves, but he was a good badger.  Very homicidal.”

“He’d appreciate that,” I muttered, then stood up.  Mourning over lost loved ones was old hat for me anymore.  Once you lose the love of your life, along with your whole family, nothing else bites quite as deeply.

“Hey, at least your Plasma Control skill leveled up.  If you ever accidentally generate another ball of plasma, you’ll be slightly less likely to kill yourself and those you love,” said Shart.

“So that was plasma?” I asked.

“BioPlasma, technically,” responded Shart.  “If you’d meant to do what you did, it would have been very impressive.”

I looked down for a moment,  “Let’s go.”

Chapter 39: …Beyond the Pale

We wandered down the stairs for a long while.  The nature of the dungeon was that, despite the stairs feeling like they were going down, we could have been going anywhere on the map.  Who designed this, Willy Wonka? 

When we finally got to the bottom of the stairs, I stopped.

“Traditionally, one climbs off the stairs,” said Shart.

“Goblin trap,” I responded, gesturing toward a well-concealed trip wire before stepping over it. 

“Lots of goblin markings around here,” said Shart, as we looked around the bottom of the stairs.  It was something like a natural cave that had been worked on.  There was also a small fire and the faint smell of smoke.  “Wait a second. . .”

I fired Scorpow at the goblin hiding in the corner, the webbing splatting all over her.  She had effectively been pinned against the wall. 

●        Mucky’Puck, The Last of the Weird Sisters.

“Kill me,” she begged.

“Try harder,” I returned, glaring at her.

●        Intimidate vs Mucky’Puck: Your check is successful

“Slay me, you genocidal maniac, or I’ll crush your craniac,” she spit out, seeming to deflate.

I walked over to the stew pot she had been cooking in.  It was full of fungus and rat stew.  Sadly, it was the only hot meal I’d seen in a while, so I spooned out some into a nearby cup and started to eat.  Mucky’Puck hissed.

“And my food too?  Kill my friends and eat my stew,” she half-choked, half-wept.

“Why are you down here?” I asked.  “I figured the Wargs would have killed you.”

“Traitor dogs came at us fast, but Mucky’Puck was built to last,” she said, a tiny hint of pride edging her voice.

“You know, I used you to find out where your final warren was.  If I had just let you drown, your people would still exist,” I stated conversationally.  I was in a bad mood, but maybe not that bad.  Not bad enough to mask the slight guilt I felt at the expression on her face.  It was one of ultimate failure.

“Failed, I did, when it mattered most.  Through me, the death of all the host,” she murmured quietly.

“Why are you down here?” I asked again.  For an instant, I saw a fragment of defiance in her eyes, but it just as quickly collapsed.  It was not often that one was confronted with the fact that you, personally, were the instrument of your people’s demise. 

“Tomb is nearby, where power we draw.  So, throw myself into its maw.”

“Is there a way out of the dungeon there?” I asked.

“Your journey will end at that terrible place, but there is a way out of this waste,” she said softly. 

I finished my cup and stood up, turning to face her, my crossbow drawn and leveled.  No need to draw this out.  Suddenly, she was gone.  In her place, the webs had assumed her shape.  The lips made of rope were still moving.

“A pox upon thee, Jim of Windfall.  Mucky’Puck will be your downfall.”

With that, the webbing caught fire, burning away to nothing. 

Chapter 40: Tomb Raider

The remaining path was not long.  The amount of goblin tracks were overwhelming.  It looked like generations of them had been coming to the tomb, drawing from its power.  My Tracking was high enough to see that the ones going in were lighter than the ones coming out. 

My Hit Points had mostly recovered through my significant use of healroot.  The time it had taken to arrive at the tomb had also helped.  I drew my sword and made sure my Mana and Stamina pools were topped off.  I stepped out of the small hallway and into another world.

The floor was made of perfectly cut stone, unblemished by any dust or debris.  The goblin tracks ended abruptly where the natural stone of the floor ended.  There seemed to be some enchantment going that kept the floors clear at all times. 

The chamber itself was circular, with a small bump where the pathway entered.  The room looked odd to my Mana-infused sight.  I stopped feeding Mana into my eyes and held up my hand, causing it to glow brightly.  I’d seen this room before.

“This is the Chamber of Heroes,” said Shart, gesturing at the walls.  I looked at them for a moment and was shocked.  They appeared to be out in the deepest part of space, with only the tiniest amount of starlight breaking through. 

It wasn’t a perfect copy, though.  The actual Chamber of Heroes, which apparently was the name of the selecting room at the Citadel, had statues in it.  Here, those statues were noticeably absent. 

Shart appeared and flew over to a spot right inside the door.  He placed his hands straight out, palms down.  Then, he frowned.  “I suppose that was too much to ask for.”

“What’s that in the middle?” I asked, gesturing toward a dark orb that seemed to be receded into the floor.  I activated my Arcane Sight and examined it.  Aside from its obvious power, I couldn’t determine much.

“The entire Source is being used to power this,” whistled Shart.

“I thought that the Source was powering the barrier?” I asked.

“It can do more than one thing at a time.  It’s not you, “ said Shart, while he examined the area. “The Source is not like your electricity.  It's more like water, flowing out of a river.  As long as it's properly channeled, the same Source can do many things.”

That wasn’t quite true about electricity, but I decided to let it go.  “Can we open the barrier or divert the Source?”

“That’s. . .wow,  you’re dumb.  You really want to fuck around with magic some more?” asked Shart.  Suddenly,  his eyes went wide.  “Fuck, no!  I’m your only living companion.  I am NOT your next murder victim.”

“That’s low, man,” I said.

“I have one eye.  I don’t want to hear about how bad you feel,” said Shart, looking around some more.  Finally, he flicked his pudgy hands and three glowing runes appeared on the floor.  “Besides, it's a puzzle.”

All three stones were now distinct and dimly lit on the floor.  One had a line running fully across it.  Another had a line that ran to the middle and then shifted away at a 90 degree angle.  The third was a T-junction. 

“This is going to be next to impossible,” said Shart.  “It's a puzzle unlike any I have seen before.  I think those runes mean something in an ancient magical language, though.  We’ll need to hit a major library, like the one in the Zentarim Academy, to figure them out.”

I walked over to the first rune and touched it.  It promptly shifted ninety degrees, causing a line of power to pass through it to the orb.  Looking at the other dim lines on the floor, I decided to push the first rune twice more.  The second rune, I pressed once; the third, I pressed twice. The lines of power all passed through them and into the orb.   “It's an old video game puzzle.”

Shart looked baffled.  “That’s amazing!  These Video Games you speak of must be great teaching aids for adventurers.”

As the runes aligned, the orb in the center seemed to thin out.  After a long moment, a body became visible inside it.  “Look, a body!” I said.  “I guess they call this a tomb for a reason.”

“Does he have any good loot?” asked Shart.  That was a reasonable statement under the circumstances, though grave robbing was a bit unpleasant.  Unfortunately, he did not.  When he was buried, and the corpse was obviously a he, little more had been done than to put him into a simple linen robe.  There was an amulet around his neck, but a quick scan showed it to be non-magical. Probably worthless. 

“Cracked amulet,” I said, continuing my examination, “and some linen robes.”

Then, I got to the face.  For a moment, I was awestruck.  If this man had been in a movie with Leo, George, and all the Chrises, I would have assumed them to be extras.  He was by far the most handsome man I’d ever seen with my own eyes.  I was about to attempt Lore on the dead body, just to get some idea of what his stats had been, when I remembered where I’d seen him before.

I rushed over to Shart and jammed my arm into his protesting mouth.  A moment later, I’d found the book he had pocketed when he thought I wasn’t looking.  I stared at it.  “It's Grebthar!”

“Grebthar has been dead for nearly a thousand years,” said Shart, fluttering over to the body.  “OH MY <ADMINS>.  IT'S GREBTHAR!”

“Dead Grebthar,” I said, and Shart immediately quieted.

“Feck,” stated the demon.

I stared for a long moment, a plan formulating.  “Your resurrection spell.”

“I said I’m saving that for you,” said Shart.

“So I can fight the Dark Overlord,” I continued.

“Yes,” said Shart, turning to face me.

“Who’s better to fight the Dark Overlord than the actual Grebthar?”

Shart paused for a long moment, as the gears in his brain turned.  Eventually, the demon smiled.  It was an actual, genuine smile.  “Yes, I don’t have to make do with an inferior copy, and you don’t have to go through the eternal agony of having your brain wiped.”

“Yes,” I began, “Wait, what?  Eternal agony?”

“Water under the bridge.  Let me get out the ingredients,” said Shart.  He reached into his own mouth and began pulling out various items and implements.

“What did you mean about eternal agony?” I asked again.

Shart mumbled something, as he pulled out a large bush, two braziers, and a dead chicken.  He snapped his fingers, and the chicken came back to life. 

“Wait, you can resurrect a chicken?” I asked.

“You want to compare the complexity of a human life with that of a chicken?” asked Shart.  “After all, you eat them and use them for building materials.”

“PETA would hate you,” I replied. 

“What does a Perpetual Ethereal Teleportation Array have to do with chickens?,” asked Shart gruffly.  “Now, watch as I work.  You’ll learn a little something about Ritual Magic.  Wait!  Actually, if you watch, you will actually learn Ritual Magic.  You aren’t supposed to know how to do that.  If I asked you not to watch, would you?”

“Do you want me to lie?” I asked.

“Fuck it, it's Ritual Magic time!” exclaimed Shart, as he began the spell.

I quickly learned that Ritual Magic was very boring.  There were a great number of steps, and all of them were rather tedious.  Fortunately, I had nothing better to do, and this WAS a resurrection spell, after all.  I decided to pay all sorts of attention.  My Arcane Lore skill seemed to help me keep things in the right order.

●        You have learned the Skill Ritual Magic.  You are Amateur

●        You have learned of the Ritual of Resurrection.  You are unable to use this Ritual, but it has been added to your Ritual Book.

●        You have earned the reward, Ritual Book

A large book fell at my feet, landing with an audible plop.  I picked it up and started trying to read along with what Shart was doing.  He muttered something that sounded like, “Stupid Familiar Bond.”

Finally finished, Shart looked over at the body of the Greatest Hero in the History of Ordinal.  The demon looked down and, in a moment of supreme reverence, hacked out the Life Energy gizmo.  It stickily plopped onto Grebthar’s chest. 

“Is hocking a loogie with the final reagent really required?” I asked.  “My book just updated with that.”

“I guess not,” said Shart.  I began scanning the book for the relevant passage.  By now, the magic was flowing throughout the room.  It was so powerful that Shart probably would have been visible to anyone who knew what to look for, though the actual light in the chamber was fleeting.

“One second, I can barely see anything in here,” I said as the ritual neared completion while I desperately jotted down notes.

“Bit late now,” said Shart as he suddenly looked up, “Wait a second...”

I turned to look at Shart in the face.  Quite unexpectedly, a bolt of pure, white light shot out of the side of the room.  It struck the demon square in the hole where his missing eye should have been.  His entire body flickered for an instant before vanishing.

●        Your bond with your familiar has been severed.  Your familiar has been returned to Limbo.

●        Perks lost: Demonic Regeneration, Demonic War Leader

●        Benefits lost: Familiar Bond

I fell, face-first, onto the ground.  My body twitched as Bashara walked into the room.

Chapter 41: An Obvious Betrayal

“You are an idiot,” said Bashara, as she knelt down next to me.  Looking back over to Grebthar, she added, “A very capable idiot.”

“Why?” I moaned.  The loss of the Demonic Bond had hurt. The snapping of my Ring of Mental Bonds had only increased the agony. 

“Because I can,” smiled Bashara.  “Wait, did you mean ‘Why did I betray you?’, or ‘Why am I killing you?’  Oh, who cares?  Same answer to both questions.”

I began struggling to my feet.  Bashara jammed her staff into my back, forcing my weakened body down.

“If you must know,” she continued with disdain, “I have been searching for a dungeon under a castle that contains a very important prize.  Instead, I found the body of Grebthar, and you trying to leech power from him.  I expected better from you.  Still, it has an easy solution.  I’ll just destroy the body and continue about my business.  No fuss, no muss.”

“You are one of the Dark Overlord’s minions?” I asked.

“Oh, that’s a terrible thing to think, Jim!  People can be evil without any Dark Overlords.  I work for my master, and she’s plenty evil without a Dark Overlord,” chuckled Bashara.

Suddenly, I rolled to the side and got back to my feet unsteadily, longsword in hand.  “You’ll have to get past me to get to Grebthar.”

“I was really hoping you’d say that.  It’s why I didn’t just obliterate you first,” said Bashara, a wicked grin contorting her features.  “You see, Jim, you’ve embarrassed me a number of times now, and I always wondered why.  How fortuitous for me that SueLeeta gets a bit loose-lipped after a few drinks.  She let it slip that you had your little friend by your side.  From there, it was just a matter of figuring out who he was.  I talked to Grace and figured out it was an Elder Demon.  It was suddenly crystal clear what was happening.”

“What exactly do you think is happening?” I growled.  I was suddenly free of both Shart and Badgelor.  Instead of being a burden lifted, I was growing more and more angry. 

“Your unusual powers, skills, and abilities, a low-level, podunk mayor doesn’t have those.  You were drawing your power from your Elder Demon familiar,” she said wickedly.  “I’m guessing that’s your actual trait, but I’m hoping it's an item.  Then, I can have my very own Elder Demon.”

“That’s not my trait,” I said, throwing all of my Mana into my palm, “And you aren’t going to find out what it is.  Guyver!”

I shot out a blast of BioLightning, while Bashara readied her own spell.  Hers was a lance of pure fire, and it slammed into my spell with all the force she could muster.  Instantly, I became aware that Bashara had been holding back in our practice bouts.  Just as quickly, she learned something terrible about me.  The BioLightning bolt blasted through her Fire Lane spell, slamming into the tip of her staff.  The force was great enough to blast the crystal from its head. 

“That’s not possible!” she exclaimed, the cooldown of her spells giving her a moment to recover. “That little demon is gone.  You shouldn’t be able to work enough magic to light a candle.”

I flipped from Mage to Sorcerer and prepared another bolt, launching it before she even had a moment to realize what was happening.  Her hands flew up anyway, forming a tight disk of a Void Barrier.  My BioLightning flashed towards her.  For an instant, the Void seemed to contain my spell, but then it shattered.  The BioLightning slammed into her, throwing the Wizard  backward. 

Bashara landed hard, pointing her hand toward me. She uttered an arcane word, and I felt my ears pop.  Silence descended on me.  I couldn’t hear anything.  I tried to speak, but nothing came out.  That would make casting my spells impossible, as I couldn’t speak the words of power.  Fortunately, I had other options.

I reached into my scabbard and drew my shortsword, closing with her.  I came in a flurry of blows, using my Quick Strike skill to gain two extra strikes with each blade.  Her staff moved to block my longsword, and a barrier erupted from her hand to block my other blade.  A bolt of lightning flew from the barrier, catching me in the torso and exploding in a cloud of ozone.

Bashara grinned.  Then, her head jerked back, as my shortsword slashed forward.  My Sorcerer class had given me a perk that significantly increased my magical resistance.  Her spell hurt, but the secondary effect of stunning me had not succeeded.  She had moved out of position, slightly, though, which totally threw off my target.  I swear I wasn’t actually aiming for her eye socket.  As she jerked backward, my sword cut down the side of her face.

The results were terrible.  A second massive scar now ran down the side of her face, boiling with the dark energies that flowed through my Man-Slayer shortsword.  I moved in to finish her, when she crushed a stone in her palm.  A massive explosion detonated between us, sending me flying backward.  My unattuned shortsword landed between us.   

Bashara stood shakily, her hand to her ruined face.  She glared at me with her one remaining eye and mouthed, “You bastard.”  Her silencing spell was still in effect, so I couldn’t hear her speak.  Then, her eyes lowered to the sword, and the look of horror was complete.  Her hand unconsciously traced the smaller, healed scar on the intact side of her face.

Suddenly, the shortsword lifted from the ground and started spinning.  Bashara screamed.  An instant later, she magically flung it at me with all of her hatred. 

If Bashara had hoped that would buy her time, she was in error.  I launched toward her with my sword, batting away her strike.  She looked startled, as my sword pierced her chest.  Then, her body blasted away into fragments.  A bolt of fire sizzled past me, but, with my Fancy Footwork skill and the Evasion perk, I was able to avoid it. 

As I turned, there were six more Basharas waiting for me.  Each one was holding a different wand and preparing a different spell.  I slashed at the nearest one.  Another spell blasted toward me from my left.  That Bashara became invisible and cast a Void Bolt at me.  That spell was targeted.  Normally, it was unable to miss, but, as it closed, I activated my perfect Dodge.  It cost me a Force point, but I considered it well worth it. 

Every single Bashara looked shocked. Using my second Force point, I closed my eyes and concentrated on finding the real Bashara.  Suddenly, one of the image’s faces had two scars.  I lurched forward, my Unerring Blazing Thrust readied.  One hit from that, and Bashara was going to be dead.  At the very least, she would wish she was.  As I propelled myself forward, six rings blasted out of empty air before me.  They wrapped around my calves, thighs, waist, arms, neck, and face. 

My Unerring Strike would not miss, but it did require me to be able to reach the target.  I collapsed as the Burning, Acidic, Frigid, Electric, Void, and Shadow rings did their work.  I began to Counterspell the first ring and despaired.  If Bashara could keep these things powered up, I wouldn’t overcome them, not before succumbing to her magic. 

She knelt in front of me again, her face ruined and her staff destroyed.  She was screaming at me.  I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but her posture and expression told me she was shouting.  She screamed until tears flowed down from her one good eye, the flap of her cheek spraying blood in all directions.  After several minutes of her yelling into my blank face, she realized I couldn’t hear her.  Bashara reached into her magical sack and drew out a black dagger.  She stared at me for a long moment.  Then, she straightened and walked over to where Grebthar was lying.  From where my head was, I could only see the edge of the platform.  Bashara stepped out of view.

I had failed everyone.

Steeling myself, I continued trying to break apart the bands.  Bashara was a powerful Wizard, and her spells were hard to counter.  However, she wasn’t invincible.  The first band, the one around my neck, snapped.  Suddenly, I could breathe normally again.  It wasn’t much, because the other bands were crushing me, but it was enough.  At the very least, I wasn’t going to black out.  By now, my Health bar was well below half.  Only five more rings to go.  I was just about to start on the second band, when, suddenly, they all collapsed at once. 

I concentrated for a moment, and the silencing spell ended.  Opening my eyes, I saw Grebthar standing above me, “And who might you be?”

“I am Jim.  I’m here to rescue you,” I said lamely.

“Well, you certainly have an interesting idea of how to achieve that,” said Grebthar with a smile.  “Would you like me to show you a trick?”

“Sure,” I said, getting to my feet.

He snapped his fingers.  I looked at him.  He looked at me.

“Am I supposed to get you something?  Pants, maybe?” I asked.  Those linen robes were not covering up anything.

“I must be a bit out of practice.  Do you know where we are?” asked Grebthar, his confident smile returning.

“Under Windfall Castle,” I said. 

“That is most excellent!  How is my old castle?” asked Grebthar.

“Destroyed.  We are rebuilding it,” I replied.

“Bully, let's get out of here, then.  Out of curiosity, do you have a spare pair of pants?” asked Grebthar.  “Also, could you perhaps tell me why you raised me from the dead?”

“I’ll check on the pants.  I need you to fight the Dark Overlord,” I said.

Grebthar reached up and rubbed at his neck.  Then, he looked around uncomfortably.  “Is he back?”

“I heard word that he would be back soon,” I said.

“Well, let's be about it!  If I wasn’t constantly fighting the Dark Overlord every waking moment, I wouldn’t be Grebthar, now, would I?” said Grebthar patiently. 

“Sure.  What happened to Bashara?” I asked, looking around the room.  Aside from her burnt staff, I didn’t see any evidence of her presence.

“I killed her, of course.  Try to keep up,” grinned Grebthar.  “I’m not called ‘Grebthar’ for nothing.”

Grebthar took a moment to stride around the chamber, looking in several hidden spots.  Whatever he was searching for remained hidden.  I fished a pair of pants out of my extradimensional space and switched over to menu time.  I needed a minute to try to absorb what was going on. 

Shart was banished, Badgelor was dead, and Grebthar was alive.  It was difficult to comprehend everything that had happened.  It had all occurred so quickly.  As I stood, simply thinking, I felt a tap on my shoulder.  For an instant, I thought it was Shart.  As I turned to look, I saw Grebthar looking at me sourly.

“Where I come from, it’s considered impolite to go into your menus while others are talking to you,” stated Grebthar.  I was in real time, just like everyone else.  My bond with Shart had given me the high speed menu time that I’d taken refuge in.  Now, it operated at the same speed as everyone else’s.  I’d been staring at my navel for the better part of a minute.

“Sorry, just checking some things,” I said.

“Bad habit, don’t worry about it.  You are only a third level Sorcerer after all,” stated Grebthar.  “Idle question, how did someone of your level manage a resurrection spell?”

“Uh, er, life glitch.  I found it some time back and couldn’t think of a more deserving person to use it on,” I stuttered.  The answer appeared good enough for Grebthar, who was nodding.

“Ah, yes, of course.  I am the most deserving.  I am Grebthar, after all.  Now, I suppose I’ll lead you out of here in exchange for these pants you’ve given me.”  I blinked.  That was an error Shart had made, as well.  You were not supposed to have more than one class.  If someone did a quick check with Lore, the first class listed was always the last class the person had used.  There was no way to use Lore on myself, and Shart and I had never experimented with it.

“Thanks,” I said, not wanting to brag about all of my abilities to Grebthar, of all people.  Plus, Shart had told me to keep that close to the chest.  Since he was gone, I’d let Grebthar figure it out on his own. 

Grebthar waved dismissively and went over to the rune stones and started fiddling with them.  I started to walk over, but my foot kicked into something that was pure black.

●        Dagger of Human Slaying: If a human is struck in the heart by this dagger, it will instantly cause final death. 

It was Bashara’s dagger for killing Grebthar.  I quietly pocketed it inside my extradimensional space.  I didn’t want Grebthar finding out how close she’d come to actually killing him.

The mighty hero had partially removed his death shroud and wrapped it around his neck like a cape.  On anyone else, it would have looked ridiculous.  On him, it looked like what a hero would wear. 

“I need a weapon,” announced Grebthar, as he looked over at my longsword.  I didn’t know where the Man-Slayer weapon had gone.  Glancing toward the star field it had flown toward, I got the solid impression that I wasn’t going to be finding it anytime soon.  I didn’t necessarily want to tell Grebthar that I needed his help looking for a weapon specifically designed to cause terrible injuries to traitorous Wizards. 

“Take it.  I have a spare,” I said, pulling out my old Soldier’s Longsword from my storage.  Grebthar nodded and picked it up.  He glanced down the blade and nearly vanished, before appearing next to me.  My own sword slashed toward my neck.

●        You have successfully parried an attack.

I stared, wide-eyed, at Ordinal’s greatest hero.  He looked at me with an inquisitive expression. “There is no way you are a third level Sorcerer.  Care to be honest with me?”

●        You have fully resisted a mental attack check.  Critical success!  The caster is unaware you resisted his check.

“I’ve really got 14 levels in Mage Knight,” I said sheepishly.  Grebthar grinned.

“That wasn’t hard, chum!” he said, slapping me on the back.  “I was just testing you.  Can’t be too careful, you know.  The Dark Overlord has minions everywhere.”

Well, Grebthar had seen through my initial omission in about ten seconds flat, if that.  He quickly used some of the linen of his death shroud to make a sheath and pointed toward the door.

“Let us depart this place.  You look depressed.  Was your party killed, or did you become separated?” he asked.

“I was separated,” I returned and started to follow him.

“Let me tell you a tale of my adventures.  I once got separated from my party,” began Grebthar.  By the end of his tale, I had to admit, I did feel better.

Chapter 42: Return of the King

We began going through the tunnel toward where Grebthar knew the exit to be.  He told stories and laughed at my jokes.  He was just about everything you could expect from some sort of hero of legends. 

The first several chambers we entered were empty, but the third had a dozen insect-like humanoids.  They were all carrying raw ore into an opening on the far wall.  The exit we needed was about half-way down the opposite wall.  If we were crafty, we could probably avoid all the monsters.

“Ah, Insectoids,” stated Grebthar.  “I fought their kind many times.”

“Couldn’t we avoid them?” I asked, trying to pick a path through the cavern.

“What, and leave them alive, so they can come at us from behind?” scoffed Grebthar.  “Think of the Experience Points!”

Before I could protest again, Grebthar tore out of the hallway.  He ran toward them in a low crouch, makeshift cape billowing behind him.  He got about half-way across the room, before the first Insectoid spotted him.  The creature raised a crossbow to fire and promptly exploded.

The other Insectoid guard pulled a horn to his lips and started to blow.  He, too, exploded.  All the Insectoid civilians that were gathering stuff were also systematically blown up.  Then, just for good measure, Grebthar threw a Fireball into the tunnel the Insectoids were using.

There was a clicking sound and, suddenly, a dozen much larger Insectoids ran out.  Each was armed with much better gear than the initial guards.  They took turns exploding, too.  Their tunnel collapsed, as Grebthar continued casting spells down it. 

I drew my crossbow and was looking around for targets, when one of the Insectoids that I missed stood up behind Grebthar.  The creature was wielding a wicked looking sword.  Grebthar seemed to blur, and the creature fell into quarters.  

Stepping out of the cave, I yelled, “You think you got all of them?”

“Of course,” he said with a grin.  “I suppose I’ve had enough fun and games.  Let's go.”

As we walked through the chamber, the Insectoid base on the far end started to collapse.  “At least you live up to the hype,” I commented

“Ha!  Actually, I was channeling a bit of Badgelor back there.  He always was the violent one,” stated Grebthar.

“Really?” I asked.

“I think all War Badgers are like that, though.  The least aggressive of them are quite angry all the time,” stated Grebthar.  “It's a fascinating language, if you ever care to learn it.”

“I speak War Badger,” I replied.

“Will wonders never cease?” grinned Grebthar.  “Well, let me warn you, they often sound like they are being polite.  Don't trust it.  They are all ornery.”

“Actually, I had a War Badger companion,” I started, watching Grebthar give me an appraising look.  “Oddly enough, mine was named Badgelor.”

“Ha,” he laughed again.  “They are still doing that?  It always upset Badgelor when I rode him into a new town, and there were two or three other Badgelors walking around.”

“You rode him into town?” I asked.  Badgelor had never wanted me to ride him, and he’d certainly never suggested that I do it when going into town. 

“Of course, that’s how they knew I was Grebthar, after all,” smiled Grebthar.  “Only Great Champions were allowed to ride War Badgers.”

“Mine let a Wizard ride on him once,” I said.

“So, he was able to achieve true War Form,” stated Grebthar, rounding on me.  “That is an impressive trick.”

“He was quite proud of it,” I replied. 

Grebthar seemed to consider that for a moment.  “Well, enough talk about dead companions.  Have people finally forgotten me?”

“We just had Grebthar Day,” I said.  Grebthar once again stopped walking.

“I was hoping that would have fallen out of favor by now,” said Grebthar, before he resumed walking.  “I was never fond of the holiday myself, despite the need.”

“The need?” I asked.

“You haven’t gotten a Path yet, have you?” asked Grebthar, eyeing me.  “I shall let you in on a secret.  I am a Godling.  My Path requires me to have a certain number of followers worshipping me.  Otherwise, my Path will not advance.  I find the notion distasteful, but it's laid out for me in black and white.”

“I thought Godling was the most powerful class,” I said.  I remembered the brief moment I could have selected the Godling class, before Shart destroyed that statue.

Grebthar looked at me.  “There are a lot of strings with that class.  I require followers and can hear all of their prayers, even when I rest.  No one prays for important things, either.  It’s always “Let this team win this game.’ or ‘Let me find money in the street.’  It lays bare the human condition in a way I was never comfortable with.  I truly had no desire to take the class, but fate thrust it upon me.”

I hadn’t thought about that.  The Godling class was powerful, but it also looked like it came with its fair share of downsides. 

“A Godling has to have followers?” I asked.  “What happens if you don’t?”

“If you don’t have any followers, you will die.  From what I have gathered, it happens pretty much instantly,” answered Grebthar.  “That’s why it's the last class you can choose.  If you chose it right away and no one knew you, you would perish as soon as you got to Ordinal.”

I swallowed hard.  I’d had the opportunity to choose that class, but hadn’t managed it. Now I realized that if I had, I wouldn’t have had the slightest idea of how to attract followers.  I would have died. 

We entered into another massive cavern, this one with a lava floor.  A walking path seemed cut into the side of the far wall.  Grebthar grew quiet as we continued on our way.  He seemed to be considering something but not really making up his mind.  As we walked, we came across a point where the path had cracked.  There was a ten log gap between the two sides.  Grebthar simply vanished from our side and materialized on the other in motes of Shadow.  I jumped and landed next to him. 

He paused, turning to face me.  He watched me for a moment, his eyebrows furrowed.  Then the smile returned.  “For a Mage Knight, you are pretty mobile.”

“I try,” I said, thinking for a moment.  Grebthar looked conflicted.  “It's not like I can teleport like you can,” I added.  I wasn’t even aware of  Teleportation magic.  If a spell existed, I imagined it would be something like Shadow Step.  I knew goblins had a Shadow Dodge, and Grebthar’s effect seemed similar enough.

“So, I’m guessing you are magically focused?” I chanced, hoping to get Grebthar talking about himself some more.  That was far better than him scrutinizing me.  Fortunately, he seemed excited for more self-aggrandizement. 

“Yes, I obviously have great skill with melee weapons and the like, but my current build is based around being a God of Magic,” stated Grebthar.  He held up both hands, showing me ten different runes, one at the tip of each of his fingers and thumbs. 

I had similar runes, but they only showed when I was actually casting a spell.  My runes looked quite a bit more basic, though, and not focused.  Activating my Arcane Vision, I glanced at my fingertips and pushed a small amount of Mana into my hand.  My runes became brighter but reflected the kind of Mana I was using.  I fed Fire Mana into them, and they looked like fire.  Grebthar’s were permanent and of a variety of different elemental types. 

“Those look different,” I said.  “How do they work?”

Grebthar open and shut his hands for a moment, then held up his left pointer finger.  It had a Fire rune emblazoned on it.  “This is an advanced Fire rune.  It allows me to cast Fire magic at increased efficiency.” 

I considered that.  Having an improved casting rune on each finger would be helpful, but it did force you to always cast your spells the same way.  Then again, I typically cast almost all of my spells the same way, over and over again.  It's not like that would be a major issue for me.  I puzzled as we moved along, until Grebthar got tired of me not paying attention to him. 

“Jim, let me ask you a question,” said Grebthar, as he walked closer to me.  “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?” I replied.

“This,” he waved his hands around, “Going into dungeons, risking your life.  To be frank, you don’t seem to have the kind of mettle required for this sort of task.”

“Saved you, didn’t I?” I said, a bit peeved.

Grebthar rolled his eyes.  “I doubt you seriously expected to find me.  I’m not sure how you managed to save me, either.  Dumb luck?” he asked.

“No, I recognized a puzzle,” I said, miffed.

Grebthar looked down.  “Well, thank you for saving me, then.”  That seemed genuine, which made me uncomfortable.

Looking to change the subject, I asked, “Aside from those Insectoids, we haven’t encountered any monsters down here.  Any idea why?”

“I’m Grebthar,” replied Grebthar with a grin.  “Jim, I’m level 60.  It says so right here on my character sheet. . .“  Grebthar stopped abruptly and looked back at me.  “Well, I was level 60. Did you know your resurrection spell drops people to half level and gives them a substantial resurrection debuff?”

“No, I didn’t,” I replied honestly.  Grebthar watched me carefully.

“Well, it’s only 30 levels.  No issue for me, the mighty Grebthar,” stated Grebthar, as he picked up his pace a bit.  “To continue, even at my presently diminished capacity, I’m still massively more powerful than anything in this dungeon.”

“You’ll get stronger,” I chuckled.

“I’m probably riding at about a quarter of my usual combat power, maybe less,” said Grebthar gravely.  “The mountains tremble before the might of Grebthar, etcetera, etcetera.”

“What if the Dark Overlord tries to get you?” I asked.  “Aren’t you worried?”

“I seriously doubt that will be a concern,” stated Grebthar knowingly.

I wondered about that and seriously missed Shart’s advice at the moment.  Hell, I missed Badgelor’s advice, even if his answer was just straight violence.  I knew the town interface worked from down here, in a limited capacity.  However, we were also in an extradimensional space of some sort.  Maybe the Dark Overlord couldn’t detect Grebthar, until he went back to Ordinal.  Maybe it was just harder to sense Grebthar in general. 

“What was it like?” I finally asked, as we turned a corner into another empty chamber.

“What was what like?” smiled Grebthar.

“Fighting the Dark Overlord,” I clarified. 

“Repetitive,” said Grebthar.  “I fought the Dark Overlord fifteen times, I think.  It all kind of blurs together after 400 years.”  The idea of fighting the same battle, time and time again, for centuries was enough to sour anyone’s stomach.

“How did you manage?” I asked.

“Every man has a reserve of strength deep down, Chum, and a reason to fight.  I had to save everyone.  I am Grebthar the Grebtharian, after all,” stated Grebthar.

“I thought you were Grebthar the Destroyer,” I replied.  Grebthar turned to look at me for a moment. 

“That’s new,” replied Grebthar wistfully.  “So, what are you going to do now that you’ve resolved your quest to find me?”

“I don’t know,” I replied, not quite honestly.  I didn’t have a quest to find him.  At the same time, he would have assumed such a quest was the reason I’d gone down into his chamber.  It was a logical assumption.  “I’ve been preparing to fight the Dark Overlord ever since I was level 1.  Now, I don’t know.  Maybe settle down?”

“Is there a girl?” chuckled Grebthar.

I thought about that for a long moment.  “Yes, I guess there is.”

“Don’t guess with women.  They hate that,” replied Grebthar.  “Be honest with them and with yourself.  It will go much easier.”

As we carried on, I considered that.  There were two big reasons I had not gone after Jarra.  The first was that I had died less than two months ago, and I just hadn’t been ready to do anything like date.  Now, I was more accepting of the fact that I had died.  I had taken time to process my death.  I understood that I wasn’t ever going to get back to Earth. 

The second reason was that, since I’d lacked a purpose, I’d kind of latched onto the idea of fighting the Dark Overlord.  I figured that was probably suicidal, and getting Jarra involved was something she didn't deserve.  I wanted her to be happy.  If we were together, and I died, she wouldn’t be.  She seemed like the vengeful sort, and I didn’t like the idea of her entire existence being defined by a need to avenge me. 

Now, neither of my hang ups really applied anymore.  Heck, now that Grebthar was back and Shart was no longer bonded to me, I was pretty much in the clear. 

“Yeah, I do have a girl.  When I get back to Windfall with her, I’m going to enjoy every moment of it,” I said, the enormous weight of all my responsibilities sliding off my back.  “You are really quite good at putting things in perspective.”

“Of course, I am.  I’m Grebthar,” replied Grebthar.

“You understand that from anyone else, that would be massively condescending,” I said.

“Oh, believe me, I know, but I’m Grebthar.  I can get away with just about anything,” he grinned.  I grinned back.  Damn me, if he wasn’t right.

Chapter 43: Past the Dungeon Core

We continued walking mostly in silence after that.  I was still mentally adjusting to my new circumstances.  Grebthar seemed content to leave me be, after I conceded to his amazing awesomeness.  The underlayer of the dungeon was mostly free of monsters, due to the presence of Grebthar.  The few we did encounter, he tended to blast out of existence before I was able to react.  I couldn’t imagine what he would be like when he was more powerful than this.  That was probably for the best.

One should not have nightmares about the greatest hero in the land.

We finally reached a staircase and started heading up.  The chamber here looked more used than the part of the dungeon we were leaving.  The underside of the dungeon was more primal than this civilized staircase. 

“The Dungeon Core is just past the next room,” said Grebthar, as he took the stairs two at a time.  I followed him, taking two stairs myself.  He switched to three, so I did as well.  By the time we reached the top of the staircase, we were taking six stairs at a time. 

“You have the Hiking skill,” he chuckled, as we stopped.  “It's the most useful skill for adventurers in the whole game.”

“I guess we do a lot of walking,” I said, wondering if he was being serious.  We had both nearly sprinted up the staircase, and neither of us even looked winded. 

Suddenly, I got a host of alerts on my menu.

●        The dungeon boss has been defeated

●        The Dungeon Core has been claimed.

●        Each party member gains class buffs for conquering the dungeon.  They need only to touch the Dungeon Core.

●        You have not touched the Dungeon Core.

●        A dungeon heart shard has been claimed for the party.  Claimed by: Sir Dalton.

Shart had been right.  That was useful.  We needed the dungeon heart shard, and everyone got class buffs when they touched the Dungeon Core.  I was still in the party, but I hadn’t been present for the defeat of the boss.  I wondered if I even could touch the Dungeon Core.  

“They just beat the dungeon boss,” I said proudly. 

“Bully for them,” replied Grebthar.  Now that I was close to everyone, I didn’t have to bring up anything to see their Health bars.  All of the remaining members of the party were healthy.  At this range, I could tell that everyone was right in the next room.  I started walking that way.  I was anxious to see the Dungeon Core myself. 

●        Sir Dalton: Knight, Level 26

●        Hit Points: 420/420

●        Stamina: 400/400

●        Mana: 40/40

Sir Dalton stepped out of the Dungeon Core chamber first.  He looked around but clearly did not see me.  I activated Lore just to see how much he had progressed and was amazed at his progress.

Then Jarra stepped out, her golden hair loose as her helmet had been cast off somewhere. She was radiant.  Sir Dalton was waiting beside, trying to talk to her.  The healer was smiling and crying, all at the same time.  I activated Lore.

●        Jarra: Cleric, Level 22

●        Hit Points: 280/280

●        Mana: 360/360

●        Stamina: 63/70

The legends of the Dungeon Core were true after all.  She spotted me and called out my name.  Jarra started running toward me.  I unconsciously took a step toward her, but Grebthar put his hand on my shoulder.

“Let me show you a trick,” he said.  He wore the same smile he always had.  He lifted his hand and snapped his fingers.

I would always remember that moment.  Jarra seemed to stumble for just an instant, her golden hair flashing in the light of the Dungeon Core.  Sir Dalton was still chasing after her.  Grebthar smiled wider, and I realized it never quite reached his eyes. 

Mainly, I noticed Jarra’s foot seeming to sink into the stone, as a shadow spread from the ground to surround her.  Then, in one horrible instant, she was pulled down into blackness, her golden hair the last thing to vanish. 

“What I don’t get is why that doesn’t work on you?” said Grebthar, turning to me.  His right hand grabbed a hold of my sword, the one that I had buried to the hilt in his chest.  His left hand snapped three more times at me.  Each snap caused shadowy sparks to flash from his fingers.  His face seemed to turn more plastic by the second. 

“Why?” I mouthed, wide-eyed with horror.  Nothing made sense.

“Because I like fucking with people, especially adventurers,” stated Grebthar.  He was still smiling, but the mask had slipped.  Dead, black eyes stared at me.  “It's the only thing that kept me sane for all these centuries.”

“I’m going to kill you,” I said.

“Please, better men than you have tried,” replied Grebthar.  He pushed back on my sword.  Despite my massive strength, he had little trouble pushing my blade out.  “You don’t even have a magical weapon.”

“You can’t possibly be Grebthar,” I said.  “I’ve read the stories.  Grebthar is the champion of goodness.”

“I can be a lot of things, James,” said the false Grebthar.  “I can be Grebthar the Grebtharian, savior of Ordinal, time and time again.  I can be Grebthar the Destroyer, who snaps after defeating the Dark Overlord after battling with him one too many times.  Mainly, right now. . .”

Grebthar’s skin seemed to pull taunt and shadows erupted from every part of his body.  He continued, “Right now, I think I’ll be the Dark Overlord.  I’m about to shatter this entire world.”

Gone was the personification of the hero that had been, replaced by a god of darkness and shadows.  A Shadow God.

“I thought the Dark Overlord was reborn after every fight,” I said.

“When you see it happen as often as I did, eventually you figure it out,” replied the Dark Overlord, laughing as I pushed my sword in with all of my might.  I focused my Mana, and the blade sprung into flames.  That got a reaction.  The Dark Overlord snarled and backhanded me hard enough to send me flying through the air like a ragdoll.

●        You have been struck for 34 points of Damage.  Base 70 - 20 Damage (armor) - 16 Damage Mitigate.  All Bludgeoning Damage converted into regular Damage.  You have been knocked back 5 logs (12 base - 3 Endurance - 4 Mitigate)

Catching myself as I landed, I rolled back onto my feet and charged toward the Dark Overlord.  By this time, the flame of my sword in his chest extinguished.  The Dark Overlord didn’t even bother to remove the sword this time.  Instead, he moved both his hands together, gathering power for a spell.

I magically yanked hard on my sword, using my Mage Knight’s Summon Sword talent.  The weapon tore itself free from the Dark Overlord’s chest, causing him to stumble.  Snatching it out of midair, I ignited it and slashed at his exposed neck, before landing behind him.  His foot exploded into my chest, sending my sprawling backward.  I managed to roll to my feet again and face him.

His head was partially detached, the neck only holding on by a thin sliver of glowing, white shadow.  If that bothered him, he didn’t show it.  He looked more disappointed than anything else. 

“That’s not going to work here,” stated the Dark Overlord, his head snapping back into place. “I’m a god, Jim, with all the perks that implies.”  Suddenly, his body seemed to flow sideways, just as Sir Dalton’s massive, lightning-infused Greatsword slashed down in an attack that would have bisected him.

Sir Dalton swung again, and Grebthar casually sidestepped the attack.  “Oh, was the blond fool your friend too?” Grebthar taunted Sir Dalton.  “It's all Jim’s fault that I killed her.  Did you know she prayed to Grebthar that you would let the idea of her go, because she loved Jim?  It seems you weren't good enough.  Again.”

For an instant, Dalton’s mind slipped away from battle.  In that moment, the Dark Overlord struck him in the chest hard enough to buckle one of the heavy, steel plates in his armor.  His second strike knocked the Knight’s Greatsword away, sending it clattering to the floor.  The third strike landed with a meaty thunk in Dalton’s chest.  Sir Dalton caught Grebthar’s fist in his own massive gauntlet, pulling the fallen hero forward.  Next, Dalton grabbed his head and started to squeeze with enough force to crush stone. 

“Grebthar, give me strength,” screamed the big man, as he tried to crush the Dark Overlord’s skull.

“Denied,” responded his god. 

Sir Dalton’s strength seemed to fade, as whatever part of Grebthar remained in the Dark Overlord forsook him.   The Dark Overlord continued to look annoyed, even as Sir Dalton brought his knee up to the god’s chin, only to have it casually blocked by a hand formed entirely of shadow.  Before Sir Dalton had a chance to do anything else, the Dark Overlord pressed him backward with casual indifference.  He brought his hand around and smashed Dalton in the chin, denting his helmet before knocking it clean off his head. 

Closing, I activated Hack and Slash and added in Quick Strikes for good measure.  Grebthar grinned, his own sword at the ready.  He activated his own talent.  Our swords flashed between us so quickly that all I could see was a blur.  Somehow, each strike seemed to counter the other.  Unfortunately, the Dark Overlord was a bastard.

●        Dark Overlord: Divine Strikes, Divine Skills: 8 Strikes.

●        Jim: Quick Striking Hack and Slash: 4 strikes + 2 strikes.  Cost 20 Stamina.

It seemed that when two people used rapid striking skills on each other at the same time, their strikes were compared by the <system>.  The person with the most strikes won.  I stumbled backward, blood fountaining out of a wound in my chest. 

●        Unerring Blazing Force Thrust: 130 Damage, Force point, 15 Stamina, 65 Mana.

My sword plunged into the Dark Overlord’s back, the blue flames searing into his divine flesh.  Even with the tremendous amount of Damage in that attack, his body seemed to stitch itself back together almost instantly.  It didn’t matter, though.

I thrust the Dagger of Human Slaying into his heart, twisting it as I did so. 

For an instant, Grebthar seized up, an expression of even more annoyance than usual on his face.  He grabbed me by the arm and flung me into Sir Dalton.  He then fired a blast of Force toward us, driving Dalton and I nearly to the door that led to the Dungeon Core. 

Suddenly Fenris was in front of me, wearing new armor and carrying a new shield.   Glorious Robert yanked me up by the arm, with Zorlando doing the same for Sir Dalton.  SueLeeta stood off to the side, staring at the few wisps of golden hair that were all that remained of Jarra at the spot she died.

“What is it with everyone and this dagger?” stated Grebthar conversationally, yanking the dagger from his back.  “Oh, a Slaying dagger, how cute.  Doesn’t work on me.  You see, it only works if you are a human and have a heart.  Here, let me demonstrate.”

He flung it at a blurring speed, straight toward SueLeeta.  Her eyes shot up at the sound, but there was no time for her to move fast enough.  I could barely see the dagger, flipping through the air.  I felt powerless, unable to do anything to stop it.  Suddenly, Fenris was there.  The dagger struck his shield with a mighty thunk. 

“You are no fun at all,” stated the Dark Overlord.

“I get that a lot,” replied Fenris.  He knocked the Dagger of Slaying from his shield with his sword, “Interception perk.  Evildoer, beware!  You face the might of Windfall.  The mayor is a good and honorable man.  Yield, and you may live to see another day.”

“He killed Jarra the Healer,” I growled out.

“Oh,” replied Fenris, his eyes narrowing.  “Well, then, evildoer, prepare to get thy shit wrecked.”

“It's the Dark Overlord,” I said and actually heard a feminine gasp. . .from Zorlando.  That man did not gasp well. 

“She was just Jarra now,” stated Zorlando, stepping forward carrying a magical pike, of all things.  His movement seemed more confident.  “We were both reborn at the Dungeon Core.”

“Are we about to have a boss fight?” mocked the Dark Overlord. “I haven’t had one of those in ages.  Might be fun practice.”

“For the forest,” yelled Fenris, rushing forward.  Grebthar countercharged and met him in the middle, batting him away like he was nothing.  However, that left an opening for Glorious Robert, who smashed him in the chest with his mace, while SueLeeta shot him in the head with an Explosive Shot  Then, Sir Dalton hacked off an arm, while Zorlando slammed his new pike into Grebthar’s middle and bore him to the ground.

It didn’t last.  Grebthar slid up the sword’s blade, ignoring the fact that it penetrated his body.  He batted Zorlando away, as Sir Dalton and Glorious Robert both attempted to strike him with their weapons.  Somehow, Grebthar dodged both, despite there being too little space for that.  Then, he was through them and charging straight at me.

I leveled my new crossbow at him. He sprung forward, coming to a stop just a few feet in front of SueLeeta.  Suddenly, he zipped backward, the webbing I had shot at him constricting, working like a bungee cord.  He slammed into the ceiling, the floor, and a wall, in that order.  All three looked like they hurt.

“Well, now you did it,” groaned the Dark Overlord, standing up.  He had landed next to the sword I’d given him, and he picked it up.  “I’m going to actually use a weapon to kill you now. No more Mister Nice Guy.”

He didn’t Dodge this time.  Instead, he just appeared, sword poised to strike, right in front of me.  I Dodged the first strike and the second strike.  The third, I blocked with my bracer.  The fourth smashed into my armor.  Then, while I was off balance, he smacked me with the flat part of the blade.  I was sent flying through the doorway that led to the Dungeon Core room.

He spent a moment blocking two arrows from SueLeeta, before he entered the room.  He kicked the massive door shut and turned to me with a grin.  “Now, where was I?”

In an instant, he slashed all three exploding poisoned bolts I’d fired out of the air.  Thankfully, that had been the point.  In the moments I’d had before he shut the door, I’d managed to load the Scorpider venom into the crossbow.  That shit slowed you down.   I blasted him with another Magic Shot, before he had time to recover.  Then, he was back on me. 

This time, the Dark Overlord came in slower than before.  He made up for it by being more deliberate, though.  I was forced on the defensive, trying to get far enough away to shoot him with more poisoned bolts.  It wasn’t going well.  Occasionally, the Dark Overlord would play along.  He would stay out of range and easily avoid my shots.  Most of the time, he got in close, just to see how well my Dodging was working out. 

As I blocked two more strikes, one with my bracer and one with my shoulder pauldron, I stepped forward.  I brought the butt of my crossbow in for a strike to the face.  He caught it with his off hand and looked annoyed at me.  He kicked me hard enough to send me flying across the room again.  Scorpow bounced twice, skidding out of reach. 

An instant later, Grebthar was on top of me again.  He slashed down with his sword, driving the blade into the space I had just occupied.  I twisted and flipped to my feet, narrowly avoiding two more strikes.  I brought up a barrier to function like a shield.  He hit it hard enough to crack the barrier on the first strike.  The second strike to my barrier caused it to shatter. Quite unexpectedly, my leg was out from under me, and I was staring at the point of my old sword.

“You disappoint me, Jim,” stated the Dark Overlord, a look of absolute contempt on his face.  I had one trick left up my sleeve, and it never failed.

“Hoopie,” I yelled, dumping every bit of Mana I could into the most powerful Break Wind spell I had ever cast.  The Dark Overlord stood there for a long moment, unmoving.

“I mean, you hear about someone stupid enough to learn that spell every so often, but I always thought it was an old wives tale,” stated the Dark Overlord.  “I am a god!  That spell will not work.”

“Crap,” I muttered.

“Crap indeed,” stated the bored Dark Overlord.  “I think this game is just about over.” 

The Dark Overlord thrust the sword forward.  I grabbed the tip, right before it entered my throat.  In theory, I was safe for a moment, but he could have easily pulled the blade from my hand and tried again.  What he did was worse.  He just started pressing harder.  I slid backward, until we got to the base of the Dungeon Core.  Its green light made the Dark Overlord look even more malevolent. 

He kept on pushing.  I could feel the blade starting to slip.  It was going to go right through my neck.  Even the sensation of holding the blade, while he pressed against it, was making my skin crawl.  He was going to kill me with my own weapon.  My own weapon.

I concentrated for a moment and realized that the weapon was still attuned to me.  I could attune multiple weapons, and, while that attunement would eventually break, it hadn’t done so yet.  Grebthar could have broken the attunement, but, to him, it was a non-magical weapon.  He hadn’t bothered.

Well, fuck him.

●        BioLightning: 180 points of Damage,  cost 90 Mana and 90 Stamina

As BioLightning ran through the sword, the Dark Overlord screamed.  In one fluid motion, I stood and pulled out my Dagger of Wounding.  I quickly used the weapon to slice off two of his fingers, while simultaneously yanking the sword free of his grasp.  There was a sharp twanging sound, as my old dagger snapped in half.  I summoned my other Soldier’s Longsword from my Dimensional Sheath and executed a Hack and Slash.  At the same time, I used my other blade to make a series of Quick Strikes on Grebthar.

I quickly discovered that shadow-infused ichor flew off a god when they became sufficiently wounded.  I was using Blazing Sword on every strike.  I severed his arm, ruined his head, and Thrust my final strike straight through his body.  Then, he kicked me, slamming me against the Dungeon Core. 

There was no give to the Dungeon Core, and I was pretty sure I felt my spine break as I slammed into it.  From there, I spiraled through the air and slammed onto the ground next to the exit.  My head was facing Grebthar, so I got to watch all his wounds seal up instantly.  It was like I’d never even hurt him, except for one spot. 

“Well, that was interesting,” he began, when five explosions lit him up like the fourth of July.  The rest of the party entered the room.  Grebthar snarled and stretched out his hand, causing a glowing orange barrier to surround his person.  A javelin and several more arrows struck the barrier and exploded into nothingness. 

“Hey, Arrow Lady, you are really starting to get on my nerves.  Let me show you a trick,” said the Dark Overlord, holding up his hand.

The stumps of two fingers that had not regenerated greeted him.  I smiled.

Chapter 44: The Vengeance of an Angry Godling

“You had Elder Demon’s blood oil with you?” shouted the Dark Overlord, a slight hint of frenzy in his eyes. 

“Doesn’t everyone?” I hissed.  Yup, my spine is definitely broken.  It was kind of ironic, as I was literally laying next to Jarra's healing kit.  She had dropped it inside the doorway, when she tried to run to me. I could see five or six vials of potion, just out of reach. She had been a Cleric.  She no longer had any need for potion.

When I’d learned to convert poisons to oils, I’d had a small amount of the Elder Demon’s blood that Shart had gifted me left over.  I’d used my Poisoner skill to make it into a poison.  I mean, it was already poisonous.  I just figured out the correct dosage to make it worse.  It had taken a surprisingly small amount, when combined with necrotic healroot, of all things.  I’d had just enough blood to make one dose.  I’d put that dose on my Dagger of Wounding, because I'd never been able to fix the damn thing.  I figured if I could only use it once more, it should be spectacular.

●        Elder Demon’s Blood Oil:  Prevents all forms of healing or regeneration for a period of 9999 years.

“I’m going to heal you up enough to torture you, after I finish your friends,” stated the Dark Overlord, turning away from me.

“We just successfully defeated the dungeon boss, you false dark overlord,” said Zorlando.

“You killed Jarra and picked a fight with Jim, big mistake,” yelled Sir Dalton.

“Yeah, now that you are done screwing around with Jim, you get to see what I can do,” growled Glorious Robert. 

Mentally reviewing the fight, I saw that Sir Dalton was the only person who’d actually seen me fight the Dark Overlord.  Everyone else had just seen me and Dalton getting tossed around like rag dolls.  Their brief fight had been little more than the Dark Overlord barreling past them faster than they expected.  They’d had time to strategize, while they opened the door.  Maybe that would help.  I wasn’t really in a position to complain at the moment.  

With a busted spine, next to no Hit Points, and nearly drained Stamina and Mana, I was pretty much out of combat.  The others left me behind to engage the abomination. That was important.  If you were out of combat, you could allocate perks, buffs, and talents.

Which is what the <system> thought, because I’d just bounced off the Dungeon Core. 

●        You have Touched a Dungeon Core claimed by your party.

●        As this is your first Dungeon Core, you gain the following benefits: +1 buff to your primary attribute, +1 talent for your Core talent, +1 perk for your class.

●        

That had been a nice buff for everyone involved.  For me, as a man with five classes, that meant the results were spectacular.  I scoured my class lists and found a Warrior perk that I just couldn’t wait to select.  It required an absurdly high level, I’m sure, and a whopping +7 to Endurance.  Thanks to my latest buffs, I happened to have a +7 Endurance. 

●        Ignore Injury: You can expend Stamina to ignore the effects of any injury.  Missing body parts will not be replaced.

I threw the talent into Hack and Slash and then moved on to adventurer.  I was in real time, so I didn’t have time to fuss.  I selected Quick Steal.

●        Quick Steal: You are unusually adept at taking things from your foes.  If you successfully make a hand-to-hand attack on someone, you can attempt to steal something easily accessible on their person.  Requirements: a free hand with which to make the grab.

I skipped selecting an adventurer talent.  Those were all exploration and discovery.  Next, I hit Mage Knight.  I found what I was looking for almost instantly.

●        Enhanced Elemental Blade: You can commit Mana to permanently activate your Elemental weapon.  If you have Blazing Sword, you can commit 25 Mana and the effect will work at half-strength on all attacks. 

That was incredibly useful.  Normally, Blazing Sword was a huge Mana hog.  Each separate attack with it was powerful, but I could only perform a handful of them in battle.   If I could pay the cost once and get the effect at half-strength on all my attacks, that would be a huge Damage boost. 

For the Mage Knight talent, I chose Improved Weapon Channeling.  It allowed me to use both hands on an attuned weapon’s grip to cast spells.  In practical terms, that meant that I could cast BioLightning with both hands, turning my sword into a double-barreled Spell blade.

Sorcerer only had a perk, and I found one for Spell Stability.  It would improve my control over magic.  I was hopeful that it would allow me to use more runes with less effort.

Finally, I switched over to Beast Master.  I wasn’t sure what to do with this one.  The entire class revolved around the companion, and he was gone.  It hadn’t even granted me the talent point.  I paused, checking my log.  Had it?

Digging down, I found a perk that looked suddenly useful and closed my menus. 

●        Jim: Sorcerer, Level 3

●        HP: 257/715

●        Stamina: 102/565

●        Mana: 99/270

Presently, I didn’t even have enough Stamina to activate the Ignore Injury perk I’d just selected.  I had to idly watch, as the surviving members of the party fought a god.  SueLeeta was firing arrow after arrow from her bow, occasionally pulling out magical arrows as the situation merited it.  Zorlando and Glorious Robert were peppering Grebthar with javelins.  Meanwhile, Fenris was using his shield to block repeated blasts of magic from Grebthar. 

They were losing.  Not only that, but it was obvious that they couldn’t keep it up for much longer.  Sir Dalton was injured and leaning up against half a wall, stuffing food into his mouth.  It took me a moment to realize he was eating eggs, raw eggs at that, out of a dimensional storage box. 

As I watched my Stamina slowly rise, I had an idea.  I struggled to move my hand.  Once I accomplished that, I summoned my sword to it.  Dragging it across the ground, I got the blade to slide into Jarra’s pack.  Focusing, I tugged the healing pack to me and pulled out the remaining five vials. 

One was a Shadow Resistance potion.  I dropped it onto the ground, where it clattered but did not break.  Of the remaining four, two were healing potions, one was a Mana and one was a Stamina potion.  I couldn’t deal with potion cooldown, so I upended all four and drank them at the same time. 

●        Potion Miscibility check, partially successful.  All potions work at 75% efficacy.  You will gain the Sickened Condition for 12 hours in 5 minutes.

With my Stamina above half, I was able to activate Ignore Injury.  I stood up.  The sensation was strange, to say the least.  I could feel my spine wobbling, but, due to the perk, it didn’t seem to affect anything.  Even though they were much faster than herbs, it would take a moment for the full effects of the potions to kick in. 

Grebthar was blasting at Fenris with a fiery tornado.  The Warden was using his shield to block the entire effect, causing a massive spray of magic to fly in all directions.  The only unaffected place was behind Fenris.  Suddenly, an arrow slapped onto the back side of his shield and Fenris’ head twitched back, watching Sir Dalton out of the corner of his eye.

The Fiery Tornado suddenly reflected off Fenris’ shield, rebounding back to the Dark Overlord.  He swore, cutting off the spell so quickly that it lacked the energy to get back to him.  That had caused a gap, however, and Zorlando and Glorious Robert both moved in.  They were ready to engage the Dark Overlord in close quarters. 

Zorlando didn’t even last a full second, as the first blow knocked his legs out from under him.  The second blow sent him sprawling backward.  This, however, exposed the Dark Overlord’s back.  Glorious Robert drove his mace down into the back of his skull with impossible force.  The Dark Overlord didn’t seem to notice.  He caught the mace, just as Glorious Robert tried again.  A second blade was already in the Fisherman’s hand, and Glorious Robert slashed the Dark Overlord across the torso.

That weapon began melting away into nothingness.  Glorious Robert released it and drew two more weapons, continuing the assault.  Each strike landed with audible cracks, as the powerful Man-at-Arms did his level best to slay the Dark Overlord.  He might have even done it, if each of the god’s wounds hadn’t healed up instantly.  The Dark Overlord laughed. 

“This is what I wanted!  Your paltry efforts are hilarious,” chuckled the Dark Overlord.

“You expect me to believe a skeezer like you is the Dark Overlord?” yelled Glorious Robert.  He headbutted the Dark Overlord as hard as he possibly could.  There was a tradition in Basstown, where bouts had been decided with headbutts.  It had been that way for as long as anyone could remember.  It was also a known fact that Glorious Robert had an impossibly hard head.

Glorious Robert stumbled backward, stunned from the force of the impact.  The Dark Overlord didn’t even move.  He held out his good hand and flicked Glorious Robert with one finger.  The squat man tumbled backward.  Before Grebthar could capitalize on that, though, Fenris crossed the field.  He charged, his shield held low as he impacted the monster.

The Dark Overlord drove his remaining fingers through the shield and spun Fenris over his head, slamming the Warden to the ground.  He hit so hard that I felt it 20 logs away.  Fenris didn’t move. 

As the false hero lifted his bare foot to stomp on Fenris’ skull, Sir Dalton roared forward.  The Knight tried to stab him with his massive two-handed sword.  The Dark Overlord batted it away, but Sir Dalton didn’t stop.  He slammed into Grebthar with his shoulder. His massively oversized shoulder. 

“Dalton isn’t that big,” I thought.  He was normally taller than me, but now he was massive.  He was holding onto his two-handed sword with one hand, because there wasn’t enough room on the hilt for both. 

The Dark Overlord didn’t so much roll to his feet as he did defy physics.  He flowed like water backward and just refused to fall over.  Dalton was on him again, swinging his sword hard enough that the Dark Overlord's stolen mace was batted aside.  The Greatsword carved through the god’s shoulder.  The arm came free in a great spray of the shadowy white ichor that passed for the Godling’s blood. 

If losing that arm bothered him, the Dark Overlord refused to let us know it.  It wasn’t even the first time it had happened in this battle.  He struck Dalton in the chest with an open-palmed strike.  The large Knight staggered, as Grebthar kicked his sword free with an audible crack.  Dalton’s other hand grabbed hold of the Dark Overlord’s skull, palming it.  The hulking Knight exerted skull-crushing force.

The Dark Overlord’s head exploded in a spray of white ichor.  Dalton again staggered for a moment, his Health bar at less than half.  He released his grip, preparing to watch the body collapse.  Instead, it just stood there, headless.  Dalton looked confused.

A voice came from nowhere, “Did you know your best friend is sleeping with your daughter?”

Sir Dalton paused, cocking his head.  “Do not tell lies to me!  There is no way my gut would betray me like that.” 

The Dark Overlord looked flabbergasted for a moment.  Then, he extended his palm, and a blast of air sent Dalton flying backward.  The Dark Overlord appeared over him, his head grotesquely reforming.  He was holding Dalton’s sword.  He moved to strike.  As the Knight prepared to draw his final breath, a bolt slammed into Grebthar’s wrist.  It exploded, knocking not only the sword, but also the hand, away.  I looked over to see that SueLeeta had picked up my Scorpow.  The Dark Overlord looked up, as another bolt slammed into his eye. The bolt erupted out the back of his skull, forcing him a step back.  Then came another bolt, and another.  SueLeeta’s emotionless eyes tracked where each bolt needed to land to do the most Damage. 

The Dark Overlord’s amputated hand began to hover right next to its owner.  It made a rude gesture, and SueLeeta resumed firing bolts at him.  This time, they all simply missed, as wisps of wind snatched them out of the air.  The Dark Overlord pointed his hand backward, firing an orb of fire at the space Fenris had occupied moments before. 

Fenris was skittering across the floor, having been captured in webbing by SueLeeta.  She was frantically pulling him to safety.  The Dark Overlord looked around to see Glorious Robert, likewise, being pulled away.  It was obvious that the Fisherman’s arm was broken.  Zorlando was safe, but his sword was gone.  His buckler had also been cracked in two.  Sir Dalton stood next to SueLeeta.  Despite everything, he was glaring defiantly at the Dark Overlord.

The Dark Overlord looked amused, until he spotted me.  “You are still standing, too.  It seems I’ve lost my touch for mass murder.”

“I said I was going to kill you,” I said.

“You and what army?” replied Grebthar boredly.

“You mean me and what badger?” I sneered, activating my new Beast Master perk, Summon Companion. 

●        Summon Companion allows limited telepathic communication and the ability to summon your companion, as long as they are within 2 leagues of your present location.  They will appear immediately or at a point of your choosing.  The companion has the ability to refuse this summons, if you place them in a point of overwhelming danger.

The Dark Overlord looked up, as a horse-sized, dripping wet badger fell from above.  He landed squarely on top of the god.  Badgelor was the size of a well-fed Clydesdale, only broader.  Well, more like two overweight Clydesdales standing next to each other.  That, coupled with his massive claws and sharp teeth, made him a veritable wood chipper when he landed on someone.

Assuming, he started moving at some point. 

“He’s unconscious,” yelled SueLeeta.

“I see that,” I replied.

“Why is Badgelor sleeping?” yelled Zorlando.  “We are in a battle!”

“He will wake up shortly.  Then, he will kill him,” I replied, watching the massive form of the badger being pushed around by the smaller form underneath him.

“Why is he all wet?” asked Glorious Robert.  The Fisherman stumbled toward Fenris and lifted the Warden onto his shoulder with his good arm.

“He was taking a bath.  He wanted to be nice and clean when he killed the Dark Overlord,” I groaned.

“You shouldn’t go to sleep when you are taking a bath.  Bad things can happen,” stated Sir Dalton, nursing his hand. “I learned that the hard way.”

“I never get any badass moments,” I muttered, as Badgelor’s unconscious form was tossed aside.  He landed in a pile, as an extremely wet, angry Godling glared at me.

“WET FURS,” he shrieked, as his arm hovered off the ground and snapped back into place.  “Your master strike is to pile wet furs on top of me to suffocate me?  FOOLS.  All of you are nothing but fools.”

“Why don’t you guys get out of here?  I’ve got to kill him now,” I said, stepping forward, brandishing my sword.

“Jim, I’m all for heroic last stands, but I didn’t even last ten seconds versus him.  I had help, too,” said Glorious Robert. 

“No one is leaving,” screamed the Dark Overlord, frantically holding up his hands.  “This was fun for a while, but it’s grown tiresome.  Now, we are going to play a game called Evaporate the Idiots.  Hi, idiots!”

A massive Fireball formed in Grebthar’s hand, the uninjured one, also known as the One That Still Had All Five Fingers.

●        Hellball, Base Damage 640.

I charged into the path of the spell, bringing up my strongest barrier.  I knew it wouldn’t stop such a powerful spell, but I did it on instinct.  I prepared to slam myself into the Hellball, hoping that prematurely detonating it would keep the rest of the party alive.

“You’ll know when you get to hell.  It's cooler there!” screamed the Dark Overlord.  By now, I could feel the heat of the Hellball from nearly thirty feet away.  He leveled the molten orange ball at my chest before launching it.  The spell brushed aside my barrier contemptuously and struck me square in the chest. 

●        Hellball, you suffer 22 Damage, Damage Resistance ignored 618 points

The Dark Overlord looked shocked for all of one instant.  Then, he extended his good hand toward me and let fly with a massive stream of acid.  I charged down the stream like an anime character, Cooler if I had to pick one, popping out at the last second to slash at the asshole. 

●        Jim’s Damage: Acid Geyser, 3 points of Damage per second

●        Grebthar’s Damage: Sword Slash, 35 points Damage

I hit him five more times and followed up with a series of Quick Strikes.  He tried, and failed, to block my strikes.  Each time I struck him, his Hit Points went down for a split second.  Then, they snapped back up to full.  It went on like that, until I executed a brilliant strike to his left thigh.

●        Dark Overlord, Godling of Magic, Hero of Legend

●        HP: 647/700

“Your Overheal pool is empty,” I said, as I waited out my attack cooldowns. 

“I really am starting to dislike you,” stated Grebthar.  I closed with him, activating Hack and Slash and Quick Strike.  The Dark Overlord swung his mace in retaliation. 

●        Dark Overlord: Divine Strikes, Divine Skills: 8 Strikes.

●        Jim: Quick Striking Hack and Slash: You may execute 5 + 5 attacks.  Cost 35 Stamina.

Just like that, two of my strikes got through.  They tore chunks of flesh out of the Dark Overlord, even as he stumbled backward.  He tried to find a stance to counter me, but I didn’t let up.  Dodging his return strikes, I continued fighting with him, sword to sword.   He launched himself forward.  I met him in the air, anxious to see if I could split him in half.

“I thought you said you easily won your duel with Jim,” said Glorious Robert.

“I thought you said he couldn’t Dodge any attacks,” replied Sir Dalton. 

Zorlando struggled by, taking the unconscious form of Fenris from Glorious Robert.  “Jim was not fighting you seriously.”

“What?” asked Glorious Robert, repositioning Fenris’ other arm.  Sir Dalton frowned and looked away.

“I have seen Jim fight before.  He only really fights when his life is in danger,” stated Zorlando. “Any other time, he isn’t really trying.”

“I know warriors like that,” whispered Glorious Robert, as the Dark Overlord and I launched ourselves into the air again.  Again, the Dark Overlord was sent crashing into the hard stone floor. 

“Mind you, I’ve never seen him this angry before,” said Zorlando.

I was in a world consisting of me and Grebthar. 

“Are your friends so impressed because you aren’t dead yet?  Do they think this is some sort of show?” growled the Dark Overlord, extending his hand toward them.  The action forced me to block his spell.  It rebounded into the chamber, causing no real Damage.  In spite of being a god, a vein over the Dark Overlord’s left eye started throbbing.  “All of them are fools, especially her. What is she even doing?”

As he tensed to strike, I moved between him and SueLeeta.  He didn’t, though.  Instead, he activated a Counterspell on my old sword, breaking my attunement to it.  Then, he magically drew it to his hand. 

“You know the funny thing, Jim?” asked the Dark Overlord.  “If you hadn’t said you were into the girl, I would have let her live.”

“Why?” I asked.  There had been no reason for it. 

“Someone needs a reason to fight the Dark Overlord, and I’m certain Grebthar won’t be doing it,” stated the god, as the shadowy ichor of his body began to smoke away.  For a moment, I thought he was healing, but, moment by moment, the shadows grew darker.  “Want to see another trick?”

SueLeeta screamed, as the Dark Overlord’s body became wreathed in shadow.  He looked like some sort of nightmare creature.  I felt the color draining from my face.  My stomach froze, and my legs turned to jelly. 

“Grebthar, you have to be in there somewhere!  Resist him!  You can’t become the Dark Overlord,” I yelled.

“Grebthar’s problem is that he always did what everyone else told him to do,” stated the Dark Overlord .  “From the moment he arrived on Ordinal, right up until the time he was betrayed, the fool spent every moment fighting a battle that could not be won.”

“But you have been defeated,” I said, staring at the Dark Overlord.  He smirked. 

“You cannot defeat Evil.  You can only temporarily contain it.  Every time I was defeated, I would just find a new host.  I always ended up back here,” smiled the Dark Overlord.  “You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.”

“Grebthar will resist you,” I yelled.  He chuckled heartily.

“Grebthar and I fought countless battles over many centuries,” stated the Dark Overlord.  “I know Grebthar like the back of my hand.”

A spike of earth materialized from behind me, but, with Fancy Footwork, I got out of the way.  A second and third spike appeared on either side of me.  I shattered one with my sword and smashed the other with my bracer.  The fourth one blasted right through my intestines and exploded out my back.  I shattered it as well, and the Dark Overlord’s smile faded.  It should have killed me. Due to my Resistance, I survived, much to his chagrin.  God, I love Hit Points.

“You are one tough son of a bitch,” stated the Dark Overlord, watching me.  I cracked another spike off and waited for an opening.  He tossed his head, his eyes frantic.  “How about her?  How tough is she?”

SueLeeta screamed, leaping onto Badgelor’s back.  The spikes hammered into his fur.  Finally, the badger stirred.

Spotting me, Badgelor’s eyes shot into focus.  He started to snarl something, before stopping.  He sniffed the air, becoming aggressive in his movements.  He turned his head, his eyes glowing a deep, dark purple.  The stone spikes shattered uselessly off his fur.  Standing tall, Badgelor snarled, “Long time no see, Charles.”

Twisting my head so fast I was afraid my neck would snap, I gaped at Badgelor.  “What?”

“Search your feelings.  You know it to be true,” answered the badger.

“He’s Charles?” I stammered.  “No, he can’t be Grebthar, Charles, and the Dark Overlord, too.  That’s impossible.”

“Not only is he all of the above, he is also all sorts of crazy asshole,” responded Badgelor.

“If it isn’t my little Badgelor.  I thought I recognized the smell,” stated the Dark Overlord.  “I left you to die!  I left you to die hundreds of years ago.”

“Yet, I’m still here.  I warned you never to betray a badger,” growled Badgelor.  “Every waking moment of my existence has been planning on how to kill and eat you.  Now that I’m here, I find that my companion has already done half the work.  You got sloppy, Charles.”

“Sloppy!  I’ll show you sloppy,” screamed Charles.  A massive Hellball, nearly double the size of the one he’d blasted at me, formed in his hand.  Badgelor looked unimpressed, right up until he leveled it at SueLeeta.  The Dark Overlord released it.  Badgelor shuffled into the way, the subsequent explosion turning all the stone around him into molten rock.   All that was left was a stone cutout that looked vaguely like a badger flipping someone off.

“Still sloppy,” tutted Badgelor.  “You know what I’ve been doing since I got back?  Getting ready for you.  You like tricks so much, I’ll show you a trick.  My current build is a perfect, magical, wanna-be-god-eating machine.”

“How?” asked Charles, as Badgelor moved toward him.  The god’s eyes narrowed.  “You are still my Path companion.  I just wasn’t ever stupid enough to give you anything to make you resistant to my magic!”

“Have you met Jim, my current companion?” asked Badgelor.

Charles’ eyes went wide, staring at me.  The mental arithmetic took only moments.  “Badgelor’s a raging psycho.  Why would you grant him resistance to any of your attacks?”

“Seemed like a good idea at the time,” I replied.  “Frankly, right now, I’d say I was justified, asshole.”

“Okay, then,” replied Charles, drawing magical power into himself. . .before promptly dashing down a side corridor, away from the Dungeon Core. 

“Shite, he’s running toward the Dungeon Door.  How badly did you beat him up?”  yelled Badgelor, charging after him.  “He’s going to break his Path!  When he does, I’ll lose my immunity to his magic.”

“He said he didn’t give you immunity to his magic,” I responded, as I paced the badger. 

“I got it from you, you dolt!  When you granted me immunity, it affected not only my Path with you, but also my Path with Charles. 

“Is the immunity over instantly?” I asked.

“No, we have about five minutes after the bond is severed.  Then, it will fade,” stated Badgelor.

“He killed Jarra!  I’m going to go slow him down for you,” I yelled.

“Jim, he’ll kill you,” screamed Badgelor.

“Then you have five minutes,” I yelled, increasing the pace.

●        Badgelor’s attitude toward you has increased to Friendly.  You have achieved the first step on your Path to become a Beast Lord.

●        Your Path is burnt into your soul.  No other Woodsman paths are available.

●        Your Path ability is based on your companion.  You have gained Badgelor’s Fortitude and Badgelor’s Rage!

“Like hell,” yelled Badgelor, shrinking and landing on my shoulder.  I smirked. 

“Let’s go kill that motherfucker,” I shouted. 

Chapter 45: Collapsing Star

“Where’s the damn demon?  This would be about the only time he would be useful,” grumbled Badgelor, as we moved down the hallway.

“Banished.  Bashara was trying to kill Charles and took him out,” I said, as I sprinted.  My Arcane Vision kept catching bits and pieces of danger, as we rushed down the hallway.

“Shite, can’t be helped then.  Don’t hold back one bit, or he’ll kill you,” stated Badgelor.  “He broke the Path right after he fled the room.”

Gripping my sword more tightly, I fired a BioLightning bolt into a ward that someone had recently left at the end of the hall.  My magic disrupted whatever spell Charles had laid.  We were well past it, before it exploded. 

“Where are we going?” I yelled, as we found another staircase.

“Follow this hallway.  It should lead us straight to the Demon Door,” stated Badgelor.  “He can teleport from there, if we give him enough time.”

“Surprised there weren’t more traps,” I muttered, as I cleared three flights of stairs in three steps.

“He knows healing magic.  He’s refilling his Overhealing pool,” stated Badgelor.  “Typical crazy-ass Charles.”

“Why did he go crazy?” I muttered.

“Not much to say on that.  He went crazy before his last trip through the Demon Door.  He found that amulet and, suddenly, he was the Dark Overlord.  Then, he went extra crazy and tried to destroy the world.  One of his lieutenants betrayed him and locked him inside the Tomb of Shadows forever,” stated Badgelor.  “Before that,  he’d already gotten sloppy.  He left me as his companion.  A bound companion doesn’t age.”

“Which is why you think the animal half of the bond is the better half?” I groaned.

“I think it is the better half, because it is the better half.  Obviously,” replied Badgelor.  “Smarter and better looking, too.”

“Hold on, are you saying the amulet is the Dark Overlord?” I asked.

“Yes and no.  There is some cockamamie story about how the amulet was forged by a dark god to control a bunch of other amulets.  It is said the god put most of his own power into the amulet.  Supposedly, his body was destroyed afterward.  The amulet is too powerful for any mere mortal to wear, so anyone who finds it will become the Dark Overlord.  Right up until they explode.”

“Except, Grebthar is a god,” I said.

“Yes, and as a god, he’s immortal and immune to the effects of the amulet,” stated Badgelor. “So, he won’t explode, and he has been locked away in the Tomb of Shadows for 800 years.  I knew it was in Windfall Valley, but I didn’t know exactly where.”

“You sure had a long time to look,” I said.

“Wouldn’t have mattered.  I was a level 1 War Badger.  Even if I’d found him, I couldn’t have done anything.  I needed a Beast Master, and there are precious few of those in the world anymore,” growled Badgelor.

“So, you are the actual Badgelor?” I groaned, “Grebthar’s Badgelor?”

“Yes, meet the legendary Lord of the Badgers,” growled Badgelor.

“That means you are over 800 years old,” I muttered.

“Closer to 1200,” replied Badgelor.  “Grebthar’s first class was Woodsman.  He chose Beast Master, after I saved him in a cave.”

“And Charles betrayed you,” I said.  Badgelor snorted.

“We had gone to the most terrible place on all of Ordinal, searching for a Divine Shard.  It was a place so unimaginably horrible that most people would rather die than go there.  Charles called it something dumb.  He said it reminded him of a place called New Jersey,” stated Badgelor.

I shuddered involuntarily.

“Is Charles from Earth?” I asked.

“Yes, place still sounds stupid as hell 800 years later.  Honestly, I thought he was making most of that shite up,” replied Badgelor.  “That is, until I met you.  You are full of the same stupid tales.  He even had me convinced that falling into water didn’t stop all Falling Damage.  Anyway, we fought a few epic battles, and, finally, Charles found the Shard.  We were supposed to enter into the Demon Door together, but he decided that he didn’t need me anymore.  Words were exchanged.  I may have called him a wiener dog.”

“So, he left you alone and in Ordinal’s version of New Jersey,” I replied.

“Yes, it was ghastly.  Because he changed classes, all of my powers went away,” stated Badgelor.  “One moment, I’m a 60th level killing machine.  The next moment, I’m a plain old War Badger.”

“You escaped?” I asked.  Of course, the answer was yes, but I was curious as to how he escaped.

“Everyone is always trying to escape New Jersey,” said Badgelor.  “I’m just more clever than most.”

“One last thing,” I said, realizing that I could finally see light at the end of the tunnel.  “Why didn’t you tell me who Charles was?”

“Oh, hi, guy I hardly know!  Do you want to go fight the all-powerful Grebthar and the Dark Overlord. . .at the same time, because they are the same person now?” replied Badgelor.  “You’d have slit your own throat, if you were smart.”

Chapter 46: the Final Battle

We entered the chamber at my maximum speed, blasting past the opening so quickly that the single trap detonated well behind me.  There were no walls or ceilings here, just a flat, tiled floor and a series of pillars heading toward a circular door.  Beyond that, there was an endless void that somehow seemed fitting for a chamber like this.  Grebthar stood in front of the Demon Door. 

I don’t know what I expected from the Demon Door, but it wasn’t this.  The glowing maelstrom of power that it consisted of looked nothing like the circular wooden door in Windfall.  I felt cheated.  The glowing ring of power beckoned me, but all I really wanted to do was kill Charles. 

Grebthar snorted, saluting me with my old sword.  Glowing runes had been traced down the blade, and they glowed shadow black against the pitch black background.  Grebthar’s visage was entirely gone.  The shadows had consumed him.  What stood before me was entirely the Dark Overlord.  His face was severely distorted.  All I could see were two glowing, blue eyes and a set of pearly white teeth, showing in a rictus grin. 

I ignited my sword, as Badgelor leapt from my shoulder.  As he flew through the air, he expanded to his full size.  The pressure wave from an explosion behind me caused his fur to whip back and forth.  My spider black armor shone from the dents and damage Grebthar had caused me.  Badgelor’s eyes glowed a fiery red.   

“Quite impressive, Badgelor and the Legendary Hero, fighting the Dark Overlord, as he attempts to escape through the Demon Door,” laughed Charles.

“I remember, you arse,” called out Badgelor.  “You remember that the Dark Overlord perished here?.”

“Do you think that you and this one are up to the task?” chuckled Charles.  “I just don’t see it.”

“You never saw anything you didn’t want to see,” stated Badgelor.  Charles turned to look at me.

“What, no banter from you?” laughed Charles.  “I was hoping for some dry wit!”

“I will kill you,” I screamed, launching the most powerful BioLightning blast I could manage.  The previous one had hurt him, so twice the power should work even better.  Charles casually lifted his hand, blocking it.

“You understand yet?  Now that Badgelor is here, I’ve enabled my protections.  I have the same resistance to your magic as you do to mine, at least until the cooldown expires.  Then, I’m going to evaporate you,” stated Charles, flicking away the fragments of green lighting, before he realized I’d moved.

“Falling Star Strike,” I yelled unconsciously, as I flew downward.  Charles tried to parry.  My sword exploded into his, driving both of his feet into the tiles, as power washed over him.  The floor directly under him shattered. 

Charles pushed himself off the broken fragment of floor, striking with Quick Strikes.  I returned blows with him, using Hack and Slash.  The air between us was a blur of steel.  He connected multiple times, driving me back a pace.  I executed a Thrust and followed up with my own Quick Strikes, pressing him.  The mighty Dark Overlord gave a pace, then a second. 

●        Unstoppable Force: Divine Tier Strike.  You have been pushed for 9 9 9 logs.

Then, Charles struck me in the torso with an unreal amount of force, sending me rocketing backward.  I focused my Airborne Control perk and adjusted my trajectory.  Doing so caused me to slam into a pillar, instead of flying right off the edge.  Badgelor tackled him.  I still had too much momentum, and, despite slamming into the pillar hard enough to break ribs, I continued flying.  I was going to skim right off the edge.

However, I had hit something.  That meant I was able to use Airborne Control again, barely forcing myself back onto the edge of the platform.  It cracked as I landed on the edge.  Windmilling my arms, I realized I was going to fall.  I frantically extended my hand and summoned my sword to me.  The sudden jerk pulled me toward the platform just enough to remove me from the edge.  My sword, unfortunately, flew over my head, into the abyss below.  I felt my bond with it break.

There goes another sword.

Badgelor and Charles were hammering on each other.  Charles’ sword glanced off Badgelor’s fur, while the badger snapped forward, attempting to tear off some delicious chunk of Charles.  Dozens of cuts adorned Badgelor’s face and neck, and there were several glowing rents in the shadowy form of Charles.

Most of my ranged attacks on Charles had been lackluster.  Now that he was distracted, I had a prime attack opportunity.  Scorpow was with SueLeeta, but I had other options.  Drawing Simple Bow 23 from my extradimensional space, I took aim and loosed an arrow into Grebthar’s shoulder.

●        Power Shot: You have done 54 point of Piercing Damage.  

“Fuck, why won’t you die?” he yelled out.  Badgelor took advantage and bit down on his arm.  The limb tore free, as Charles stumbled away. 

“I’m a curious puppy,” I yelled back, firing a second arrow.  The strike knocked the blade out of the Dark Overlord’s reach.  I continued to bear down on him.

“WHAT?” screamed the dark god, as he used his remaining arm to slap Badgelor away.  He stretched out his hand to call the blade to him, but I activated Flash Steps and my new Quick Steal perk.  I shouldered his arm away and went for the weapon.  Snatching it out of the air, I quickly dumped Mana into it, attuning the sword to me again. 

Badgelor stood up, moving to Charles’ other side.  That was more challenging than one might expect, because the cracks on the floor were getting larger. 

“I must know,” asked Charles, as he picked himself off the ground, “Was it <Mike> or <Kevin> that plagued me with you,” 

“Get used to disappointment,” I replied, saluting him with my new, magically-enhanced Soldier’s Longsword.  He nodded.  Badgelor launched from behind, and Charles leapt into the air.  I met him with steel.  He somehow dodged my first strike, so I executed a Cleave attack, catching him in the leg and sending him careening to the ground. 

It was only Luck, and I mean that quite literally, as the bastard had a high Luck stat, that he managed to avoid being caught by Badgelor.  Charles’ limbs bent unnaturally, while he attempted to keep away from both Badgelor and me. 

“He’s trying to run out the clock,” yelled Badgelor.  Suddenly, my entire body convulsed. 

●        You have gained the Sickened Condition for the next 24 hours.  You will find all tasks more challenging, due to the effects of the sickness. 

●        Badger’s Rage is active.  You can ignore the effects of status conditions, such as sickness.  You have 2 minutes duration left.

I slashed at Charles twice more, but he was wily.  Now that he’d decided on defense, his body kept morphing into shadows.  He half-teleported, half-dodged away from me each time.  I activated Unerring Thrust.  Launching toward him, my sword altered direction three times, before I finally had Charles lined up.  He Dodged away again, using Perfect Dodge to avoid the strike.  He then materialized behind me, his own fist glowing.  I used my Perfect Dodge to avoid his strike, before using Riposte to slash him, my blade carving deep into his flesh. 

Charles landed hard, flipping back to his feet and firing off three massive stalagmites at my companion and me.  That clumsy spell was easy to Dodge, and I continued trying to close.  He desperately fired more and more stalagmites at us. 

“Jim,” yelled Badgelor.  I ignored him, leaping from one cracked piece of floor to the next, trying to catch up with Charles.  The Dark Overlord continued trying to get his rocks off.

“Jim, he’s breaking the floor,” yelled Badgelor.  I stopped.  The stone platform I was going to land on suddenly vanished into nothingness, as another massive Earth spell destroyed it.  I was hanging alone in a sea of nothingness, floating on one of the only remaining sections of the floor. 

“And done,” stated Grebthar, bowing to me.  “You have been a somewhat worthy adversary, but the time limit has expired.  Your immunity to my magic is at an end.  Do you have any last words?”

“I’m going to kill you,” I replied.

“Charming, but we are at the evaporation portion of this evening's festivities,” stated Charles.  The Godling of Magic prepared to cast something impressive.  A ring of arcane energy appeared directly in front of him, his spell gathering power behind it.  My Arcane Lore called the ring an Amplification Lens, a powerful spell designed to amplify the effects of basic elemental magic. It would also provide the caster with some defense from incoming spells.  My BioLightning wasn’t going to be able to penetrate that.

I had one option.  I glanced at my Plasma Control skill, which had leveled up to Initiate.  What the hell.  “Badgelor, when I’m done, make sure you finish him off.”

A second ring snapped up in front of Charles.  I began feeding Mana through my intestines.  I was acting as a Mage, so, as I gathered Mana into my right hand, I formed it into BioLightning.  The blade seemed to amplify and empower the effect, causing the runes to glow green inside the blade.  I continued gathering my Mana. 

“BioLightning?” laughed the Dark Overlord.  “Impressive, but not good enough!”

Switching to Sorcerer, I pulled Mana through my groin, letting it fill me for a long moment.  Then, I dumped it into my other hand.  Charles looked amused, as the small bead of fire formed between my fingers.  My blade was already thrumming with BioLightning, when I slammed my other palm onto the hilt.  The Dark Overlord’s rictus grin vanished, replaced by a look of true horror.  A ball of plasma began to form at the tip of the blade. 

The sword hissed and popped, as I continued dumping more Mana and Stamina into the spell.  There was too much uncontrollable power.  Plasma discharges ran down the length of the blade, one taking off my right hand entirely.  With Badger Rage and my improved Spell Stability, I paid the price without hesitation. 

You could have anything you ever wanted, as long as you were willing to pay the price.

“What are you doing?  You’ll never survive that spell, you fool.  You’ll kill us both!” screamed the Dark Overlord, as a massive string of discharged plasma carved another section off the floor.   

The Dark Overlord was working frantically now, trying to get his third ring built.  Magic continued to flare around me.  My sword started to warp, even as another discharge took off my left arm.  The sword magically stayed in place. 

My weapon was the focus of my magic.  As such, it hovered in the nexus of the spell.  I poured every drop of Mana I had into it.  The blade glowed red, then white, before it started to half-melt, half-disintegrate.  I continued working the spell.  Charles managed the third ring, just as I felt my hair begin to burn away.  Steam was rising off my torso, but, by now, the spell was cast.  I was operating like a battery.  With my last bits of sight, I released the spell. 

●        Solar Flare: Flameology Spell.  Empowered.  1st Tier Elemental Ring Bonus.  2nd Tier Elemental Ring Bonus.  3rd Tier Elemental Ring Bonus  Damage 1500 Fire, Line Effect (Base Damage 500, +50% 1st Ring, +50% 2nd Ring, +100% 3rd Ring)

●        BioPlasma Blast:  <Error> Plasma Control.  Damage 1100 Plasma, Line Effect (Base Damage 1000, +10% Plasma Control)

Both our spells released at once, meeting in the middle.  They caused a massive, blasting explosion.  The Dark Overlord’s spell was cast with the most advanced runes, through amplifiers designed to vastly increase the Damage while simultaneously protecting him.  I had just cheated.  On Ordinal, there were different types of Damage, and some Damage counted much more than others.  Fire, no matter how well cast, was considered a lower-tier magic, whereas Plasma was considered by many to be the highest tier. 

My spell flowed down the path of fire and blasted into the first ring.  With only the briefest of pauses, it shattered each ring in turn.  Finally, the ball of plasma ended its journey, buried inside Charles’ chest.  For a brief instant, his entire body, except for that cursed amulet, went transparent.  Then, there was a soul-shattering explosion.

Chapter 47: Burning and Useless

I awoke and found myself being pulled across debris by my neck.  The floor seemed to have partially reconstructed itself.  I could see Charles out of my one somewhat functional eye, dragging me somewhere. 

“You are one tough son of a bitch,” grunted Charles, as he found what he was looking for.  I tried to strike him but realized that neither of my arms worked.  Looking down, I saw that they ended in stumps.  Neither of my legs worked, either. 

“How did you live through that?” I groaned.

“I am a god.  I have the ability to regenerate from even death,” answered Charles.  He wobbled for a moment, and I could see his Mana bar depleting. 

“So, I did kill you?” I questioned.  Charles said nothing for a long moment. 

“Yes, but I have a perk for even that,” he said, pulling up the ruined husk of my old sword.  Sighing, he thrust it into my chest. 

●        You have suffered 4 points of Damage from Ruined Soldier’s Longsword

“Why won’t you just die?” muttered Charles. 

“That kind of tickles,” I said.  “Feel free to keep trying.”

“You want me to make it hurt?  You don’t even know what pain. . .wait,” Charles shook his head, as if to clear it.  He took a long moment to look around. Specks of his divine body flew away as he moved.   “You are just trying to stall me for Badgelor.  “

Suddenly, I was dropped to the ground, giving me a chance to look at the Dark Overlord’s wounds.  His chest was burned away, exposing a single glowing shard, floating in his center.  The light from it was dim.  As I watched, more of his flesh seemed to char over.  I half-wondered if I could rip the shard out of his chest or break it somehow, but that seemed impossible without arms. I also wondered if I kept him talking long enough, if he’d just blow away. 

“Clever.  I don’t have time to kill you, but I can’t have someone as powerful as you at my back, either,” stated Charles.  “Thankfully, as usual, Ordinal provides.”  Charles grabbed me by the leg and staggered toward a glowing circular door.  My leg was so badly damaged that I couldn’t even feel the pain, despite it being obviously little more than cooked meat. 

When we got to the door, Charles lifted me up.  The grueling effort caused his arm to shatter, and he dropped me painfully to the ground.  Glaring at his stump, he focused himself.  His Mana bar began to deplete more quickly.  “I don’t know how those pricks knew where I was, but you tell the little shits something for me.  You tell them that by the time you’ve regained your levels, I’ll already be at endgame.  Goodbye, Jim.”

The Dark Overlord kicked me through the Demon Door, laughing frantically.  My last sight of the dungeon was the glowing red field.  Charles used his last bits of Mana to teleport away.  Then, blackness enveloped me.

Chapter 48: Epilogue

All my battle wounds were gone, and I was standing at attention in a large cavern.  It was a place I recognized.  I’d been here a month and a half ago.  The fog was much less intense this time, though.  I started walking toward the statues almost instantly.

The room looked eerily like the tomb I’d found Charles in.  I recalled watching Shart standing somewhere.  I walked over to that spot and held out my hands, just like I’d seen him do.

●        Admin Privileges Recognized: Permission, Level 1

●        You have access to Chat and Basic Services

A Console appeared from the ground, looking like something straight out of a high budget sci-fi, complete with the flashing red light.  There was a keyboard with symbols I didn’t recognize, but there didn’t seem to be a screen in any capacity.  Ordinal was weird, so I decided to just brush past that fact. 

As I looked at the keyboard area, the characters began to stabilize.  Once that happened, I could actually read them.  The Admin skill I’d learned from Shart by accident was even now feeding my brain, based on the limited permission I had. 

I started searching, typing in a command to find Shart.

●        Shart, user not found.

Wait, that wasn’t his name.

●        Kevin, user found.  Current location:  Limbo

<Kevin, are you there?> I typed.

<New Console, who dis?> came the response.

<Shart, I need your help to kill the Dark Overlord,> I replied.

<Jim?> came the response. <Why the sudden change of heart?>

<Because he fucked with the mayor of Windfall.>

: End

The space between light and shadow parted, and Charles collapsed into his sanctum. Opening the portal with his diminished powers had been a challenge.  The fact that he was missing two fingers had not helped.  Looking down at where his legs ended in stumps, Charles groaned. 

“You should have killed him when you had the chance,” came an unbidden voice.

Charles laid there for a long moment, looking at his maimed hand.  There were ways to cure even Elder Demon venom, but they would require significant effort.  “I don’t know that I could have.  I think he was playing with us.”

“Why kill his woman?” asked the voice.

Charles had no response to that.  He looked around, truly taking in his surroundings.  His hidden sanctum seemed different somehow.  Almost. . .

Magical bindings shot up from a dozen different spots, wrapping around him, trapping him.   Within moments, his entire Mana pool had been depleted.  He could already tell that his Stamina would be insufficient to break the chains. 

The smell of her perfume hit him first.  It was a sickly mixture of honeysuckle and plums.  The Sphinx walked from his throne to prostrate herself before him. 

“Oh, mighty Lord, I have done my best to keep you. . .safe.”

……

Force Captain Grayeir stared at the magnificent wall for the umpteenth time, before returning to his Battle Map.  The notion of such an impressive fortification right next to his field of battle was intolerable.  The fact that it was guarded and claimed by someone who was not allied with his liege or HarCharles was just another stage of annoyance. 

“What the heck is up with that Velociraptor?” asked Grayeir, gesturing to one of the large flags adorning the outside of the wall.

Sheblin looked up from her book, patiently waiting for her old friend to calm down.  “It's an ancient fortress wall.  It dates all the way back to the wars with the Dark Overlord.  That is the mighty fortress where the First Dark Overlord’s hurricane broke, the Windfall.”

“I still can’t believe that Grebthar’s castle is in there,” stated the Force Captain.

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much.  It's probably a heap of rubble.  The whole area is supposedly infested with goblins and trolls.  We’ve sent a few spies in, but no one has come out recently,” she continued. 

The trolls were new.  She’d learned about them through her dealings with Falcon Crest.  Not that it mattered much anymore.  She doubted that she would be hearing from her contacts any time soon.  Civil wars had a way of doing that. 

The rumors regarding the Dark Overlord’s rebirth seemed to have struck up every minor border war at once.  The current conflict between TimSimons and HarCharles was the perfect example.  Five years ago, they had been old friends.  Now. . .

Sheblin glanced back over to the king’s tent and watched the stream of messengers running in and out.  She didn't have much longer.  The fact that the king was on the field was causing her to become jittery.  The very notion of a king being present was preposterous.  The fact that the king was also carrying his Kingdom Weapon was something else. 

Looking at the large crack in the ‘impossible’ to break wall made her eyebrows raise slightly.  The thousand logs of flat, burnt terrain inside the circle of its destructive force was enough to make anyone question the idea of staying here.  When kings fought, it was best to be elsewhere. 

Not for the first time, Sheblin considered vacating the premises.  However, with Falcon Crest gone, there was nowhere else to run.  “We could always get a boat and sail off somewhere,” she said to no one in particular.  She most certainly did not direct her comment to Grayeir. 

He, of course, pretended not to hear her, for the fourth time.   Obviously, she wasn’t being serious.  Still, nervous tension was nervous tension. 

Sheblin stood up and dusted off her robe.  Glancing around, she saw the sea of Chosen that were present.  There were more than one hundred, nearly a third of all active Chosen in the entire kingdom.  Everyone here was at least level 20.  Some notables, like herself, had levels in the 30s. 

Sheblin hid a sly smile.  It would be so easy to pop the heads of some of the younger Chosen, the ones who were boasting about how these battles would be quick Experience Points.  Many of them would die, but those with true power would survive.  Then. . .

The flap to the king’s tent opened, and a small, wizened man stepped out.  He paused to survey the army with a keen, critical eye.  Then, he tottered on old legs, as he took one step outside the tent.  Sheblin knelt as the king followed him. 

His presence was so powerful that everyone who had not already knelt dropped to their knees awkwardly.  The birds grew quiet, and even the air stilled.  TimSimons was here.  As he stepped down from the tent, the camp seemed to shake.  His alabaster plate armor, another Kingdom Artifact of lesser pedigree, glittered, as a ray of sunlight shot through the clouds.  Sunlight always caused the armor to shimmer.  That was all window dressing, though.  At his hip sat the most powerful weapon in the kingdom. 

Sheblin swallowed involuntarily.  She knew her aunt would ask her if she’d actually seen Excalibur, Grebthar’s ancient sword. 

As TimSimons walked, the very land responded to his presence.  Flowers bloomed behind him.  The adoration for the Chosen was tempered; the adoration for this man was absolute.  His aura was so strong, the men had no other choice.  Sheblin felt the edge of his power, as he walked toward the Force Commander.  The king paused to nod curtly to both of them before examining the map.

“The Northern Garrison has fallen.  We will meet the enemy north of here, where the road cuts through the fens.”

“That’s going to bottleneck the regular troops, but it will leave the Chosen free to battle,” said Grayeir.  “Hopefully, that will be enough.”

“It shall be,” stated TimSimons, his voice resonating through the camp.  “I have every confidence that we can blunt this invasion, here and now.”

“And Windfall?” asked Grayeir.

“If they didn’t respond when I knocked, I don’t see them coming out until later.  We might even breach their wall, after the battle,” stated TimSimons. 

“It would be easier to just sail around, like we always do,” huffed Grayeir. 

TimSimons nodded.  He’d sailed by the Windfall coast a few times.  There was apparently a port with a pretty nice beach tucked in there somewhere.  That assumed one was willing to trace the craggy coast, while avoiding the various dangerous reefs.  Most sailors just kept the edge of the coast in sight and sailed right past. 

“Sir Dalton is supposedly in a dungeon,” stated Sheblin.  “Lord Dookie has reported that he expects to be back to us prior to the march north.  Sir Dalton is trying to lure away a few Chosen from Windfall.

TimSimons chuckled slightly though his armor.  “The Forces of Windfall in the field?  It's like the battles against the Dark Overlord all over again.”

“I saw the comet,” Sheblin said flatly.

“Sheblin,” said Grayeir calmly, “There are always comets.  Just because you saw one falling into  Windfall Valley doesn’t mean Grebthar is coming back.”

Sheblin bowed her head before nodding.  “I suppose those are all legends anyway.  Would you mind, your Majesty?”

TimSimons paused for a moment, before reaching into his pouch and drawing out a small shard attached to an ancient leather cord.  “You realize that I’m using one of the kingdom’s greatest artifacts just to make you happy?”

She grinned like a schoolgirl at him, and King TimSimons grinned right back.  “Thank you, cousin,” she stated.  As she took the token from his hand, she was hit by a strong memory.  When they had been children, Sheblin would often ‘steal’ cookies from her larger than life cousin.

In reality, there was little risk to using the Eye of Sier like this.  It was a trophy from Grebthar’s time, if one believed that sort of thing.  Stories claimed that Grebthar had taken it out of the head of one of the Dark Overlord’s lieutenants.  By pouring a bit of the kingdom's Mana into it, the Eye could be used to find the Dark Overlord, finally putting Sheblin’s mind at ease.  Technically, it could be used to find just about anything you asked for.  Even if the Dark Overlord was hidden away, the Eye would at least tell you if he was back or not.  The problem was the cooldown; it lasted one whole month.  That, and if the Dark Overlord was hiding in an extradimensional space, the Eye couldn't find him. 

Getting the head priest to hand the Eye over to him had required TimSimons to actually wheel and deal a bit.  His exalted level 57 self was not used to those kinds of dealings.  Then again, the high priest had been level 54, and it was always better to have the church on your side.  TimSimons had been forced to make a few concessions, but none of them were particularly onerous.  Where was he going to find a War Badger for Grebthar Day, though?

Grayeir nodded at the king and went back to staring at the map.  Sheblin watched the rock closely.  Leave it to Grayeir to do something useful, thought TimSimons.  Digging through his menus, TimSimons got to the kingdom interface and found the Mana tab.  His class didn’t use Mana, so he had to power up the artifact with the kingdom’s Mana.  The interface was clunky here, and it was taking him a long moment.  Finally, he finished.  The small rock started glowing, awaiting his question. 

Suddenly, Grayeir’s hand slapped the table before gesturing to the north.  “That’s the second perimeter.  Why are they launching flares?”

In that instant, TimSimons changed his request to the rock.  Scanning forward, he instead searched for something else.  “They are much closer than we were led to believe.  Get the men moving.”