I immediately swap my armor in my ring with the new stuff and, except for the brigandine that Victoria crafted for me, I drop the old gear into the group storage. As a precaution, I keep the chest piece for emergencies since things seem to like tearing into my torso. Vic does the same, but she dumps all of the weapons she was keeping in her ring and starts from scratch while wielding one of the iklwas.
"Let's see," she says, sounding like she's picking out ingredients for cooking, "One of the hammer axes, a couple daggers..." She rests the short spear on her shoulder as she withdraws Ramona's Memory from the bag. She admires the violet sheen of the katana, Ramona's silohouette etched on the side of the blade. She stoically places it into her ring and walks toward me.
"The weight of this weapon is very different from what I'm used to. I have to hold it near the top of the handle."
I accept it from her and constantly change my grip, "Is it bad? Should we make something else?"
"No," she takes it back and puts it away, "It's just going to take some getting used to. We have very fine weapons and armor now. Let's use them to protect the people of Linqs and kill that damn Halfling."
"Well said," I respond while searching through the inventory again.
"I'll go see if I can find everyone and let them come back to exchange their gear." She gives me a somber kiss, much different from the ones shared moments ago, and heads out.
With all the crafting I wanted to finish, I pushed several notifications to the side and discovered that I not only leveled up Leatherworker to 12, I also gained enough XP from converted craft experience to level up to 14! "Must have gotten a lot from teaching everyone Minor Survival Craft. Oh! That must have leveled up, too!" I flip through screens, wanting to see how it evolved before doing my Stat Points.
[Minor Survival Craft IV (2SP+2MP)
[Requirements: 1 free hand
[Max Level at Level 18
[Heal 7MP
[Reduce Poison effects by up to 5 damage per 2 seconds/Remove Blind Debuff
[Create small sparks for starting fires, deals no damage
[Purify up to 3gallons of water or 15 pieces of meat.
[Produce 4 bedrolls and padded mats, and a 4 person tent
[Produce 40feet of hempen rope, 2 hour recharge
[Create a magic bubble around your head that supplies 10 minutes of fresh air. Bubble lasts 10 minutes/dismissed/struck by an attack
[Able to make advanced improvised gear from non metals: melee/throwable/ranged weapons, shields, armor, artisan tools
[Activate Analyzer Feat]
So, based on what I can remember from the last time I checked it: the healing aspect went up 2HP, I now have an anti-poison and blind ability, more water and meat can be purified, another bedroll and bigger tent, more rope, and the air bubble which will be extremely useful. I still can't craft with metal and there's only one more level left, so I'm pretty sure I won't be able to. My Alchemy Skill is lagging behind because of how many Alchemists we have and how few are able to craft weapons and armor. The militia can probably help later on, but right now their Survival Craft starts at level one and it'll grow after they gain four levels.
And now for the entree. I put all seven Stat Points into Arcane, bringing it to 45 and I ignore all the other Spells to increase Arcane Bolt to level 2. Normally, one wouldn't waste an opportunity based solely on a magic item, but, just like when I chose my Adaptability Feat, I've become a sucker for versatility. I wasn't always, but after working in places that demand their workers to fix their own problems I often see having more tools in the bag as a good thing. I glance at my new ring, itching to just blast off a couple of bolts right here and now.
I go through the new items we crammed into the bags from the Chessts, reading their descriptions as I shove them into my storage for distribution.
[Amulet of Bracing, Advanced Apprentice, Neck
[Once per hour, you may fortify any door: adding 300HP, 20Armor, and magically locking it from your side.]
[Hedge Mage's Hat, Advanced Apprentice
[Durability: 150/150
[Armor: 2
[All Arcane Spells that cost 5 or less MP are reduced to 0. Able to use the Prestidigitation Spell.]
Not sure who's getting the Amulet, but Kona and Serenity are getting a hat, leaving one for maybe Richter the only other spellcaster besides me. The last item in the bag intrigues me and I read it as I walk toward the doors, passing the two soldiers with the Forager Class, presumably dropping off more food and materials they had found around the lake.
[Cloak of the Raptor, Advanced Expert, Shoulders
[Durability: 190/190
[Armor: 2
[For 1 hour, -2 Armor and this Cloak retracts into the wings of a bird of prey, achieving a maximum flapping speed of 35 Miles Per Hour, or a diving speed of 90 MPH. The wearer's wings can only support the wearer's weight including any equipment worn at the time of retraction but nothing else. Recharge is 12 hours after the wings are dismissed or at the end of the 1 hour.]
The water's edge, normally bustling with visitors enjoying calm waters and sunshine, is empty by the time we get there. The dark and heavy clouds finally unleashed their watery payload, driving most everyone away like a handful of dropped marbles. Our vardo is one of maybe three vehicles left near the lake. There is a stream that leads away and, according to the map, eventually bends around Kes Rentas and flows through the mountaind to the west. There is a simple, white canvas covered wagon near where the lake drains into the stream, but we haven't seen anyone come out of it yet.
Rachel's squeals skip across the water like river rocks, crashing on the shore where the rest of us are equipping our new gear. The soldiers, except for Gorm, and all the citizens have long gone back inside since she first donned the cloak through a continuous stream of high pitched words. The novelty of watching her flying wore out and it was time for a light meal, so they left the rest of us in peace. Victoria, Dawn, Elsbeth, Richter, Serenity, Gorm and I are watching Kona try to keep up with the Avian Half-Faunus, much to her embarrassment.
"Slow down, bird brain!" Kona shouts, her new pointy hat flopping about as it clings to her as best as it can.
Rachel's only response is more laughter as she soars straight up and goes into a high speed dive, narrowly avoiding the cat mage and straightening her flight a few feet before hitting the water.
A flash of light followed by a thunderous crash and water hitting water stab at us like shivs of concern. From above the lake, two more bolts of lighting narrowly miss Rachel and Kona, hitting the water. Thunder is joined by a chorus of splashing water. We go on high alert, forming a party and searching for the spellcaster, but end up watching in horror as a large magic circle quickly forms above Rachel. It chills the air immediately and covers her in a layer of frost. The magical ice causes her to drop several dozen yards away from the shore.
I snap back at the group, "Vic!"
"On it!" She grabs Gorm as they rush down to the shore. She tosses her Pocket Canoe forward and it quickly grows to its max size, moments before hitting the water with a splash. Gorm holds it steady as Vic jumps in. With a running start, he slides in and they row with all their strength to our frozen friend.
"It came from the wagon, bro!" Richter's Arcane Lenses glow blue as he fixes his sight in the distance. "I saw flares of mana inside it." Awesome, I guess they don't just make him look cooler.
I wouldn't have wished for an opportunity like this to test my new ring, but I fire off two, long range purple bolts. They splash harmlessly on a dome of energy, visible only in areas where the bolts strike and fizzle out for a second or two. An arrow follows close behind, passing through the energy unhindered and tears through the canvas. Several shrieks emerge from the wagon accompanied by several aggressively roared explitives. A bloody body flies out of the curtained rear, hitting the dirt in a mangled heap, El's arrow sticking out of the head.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
Three players storm out of the wagon, aggressively donning their armor and equipping mean looking weapons. Two of them are Half-Orc/Half-Giants, about eight feet tall and bodies piled with muscle. The third is a Fissit, a specific type of Faunus that looks like a rat, with black fur, a long, pink tail, and beady, black eyes. Their equipment composition reminds me of players who wear a mash-up of equipment, only caring for the stats and not the style.
"Hey!" The Fissit hisses at us, waving a staff topped with an animal skull, "You killed my hooker! How am I going to get my deposit back on it?" A naked Elf tries to sneak out during the commotion but one of the Orc-Giants,Veron Townsend, grabs her by her slender waist with a single hand and throws her mercilessly back into the wagon. Their laughter sounds like the grunting of hogs, pained sobbing eminating out of the white canvas.
I'm staring at this mangy creature, an angry speech coming together in my head concerning his actions so far. But I only whisper under my breath.
The Fissit, who's real name is William Borjer, mistakes my lips moving with no sound for mumbling in fear and starts cackling, "Ha ha! Praying isn't gonna help you!" He waves his staff, a magic circle forming beneath their group, "Unholy Strength!" All three of them glow with swirling red and black light that culminates with a red plus above them that slowly vanishes. Their muscles bulge, veins pulse, and mouths froth in a deranged frenzy.
The second Orc-Giant, Taylor Rounds, glows yellow and lets out a roar. It was annoying to say the least, but Dawn and Elsbeth rush ahead of us toward them.
"Shit! Stick to the plan everyone!"
What William mistook for praying, was actually me relaying the makings of a battle plan to everyone. Unfortunately, they didn't include a Taunt Skill, so a bit of improvisation is needed. We're fortunate enough that the rest of us have a high Willpower and that gives me an idea. I ready a Mana Potion as I sign the Command Spell, first targeting Elsbeth and then Dawn. I order them both to "Stop" as the near the halfway mark between both groups. I chug the potion with wild abandon.
Being the tanks that they are, Veron and Taylor charge at us, first aiming to run down Dawn and El. They both perform Dash, the Skill equivalent to Blink Step, cutting down the distance to just a few more steps. Their fists are clenched, knuckles pale as one brings up a two handed broadsword and the other a double sided battleaxe overhead. I dig my feet into the dirt, churning my legs harder and grit my teeth hard enough to almost snap off my jaw. I have a choice to make and I don't have much time to make it.
As much as we've all been through, the choice is still difficult to make. There's no time to waste in second guessing and I activate my skill. It'll hurt for a while and I'm hoping I wont get scarred for life by the events that follow. It takes a moment for everyone to realize what I had done, both Dawn and Elsbeth are released from their berserker states just in time to see me and stare wide eyed at my decision. I can't blame them, my choice is going to put someone in a world of hurt, possibly killing them.
The heavy blades swing towards the girls. The effects of my Command Spells are still active and they're still stuck in place, unable to dodge the fury of bladed runaway freight trains. Which, given the unfortunate debuff that had befallen them just moments ago, is exactly how I need it to be for this to work.
The Orc-Giant attacks miss their original targets by no more than an inch. Their new target, a dancing fool, waits as they knock the girls over with their charge and attack me straight away. I don't get much of a Agility bonus since there's only two of them, but I should be fine for a while. That is, until my three minutes are up.
I counter their taunt with Distrating Footwork, watching their eyes switch focus over to me. I secretly celebrate and curse my luck knowing the next part will be the hardest. Their swings are ferocious, tearing up the ground as I dodge and parry as best as I can. Even with my metal- like claws, there's nothing I can do to straight up block or stop their heavy weapons and powerful strikes.
Arrows zip by us, aiming for the Fizzit who blocks them effortlessly, creating another magical circle. My immediate area glows blue and I'm too focused on the two behemoths trying to rend me in two. The newly freed Dawn and El manage to roll out of harm's way and I brace myself for impact.
The ground below me erupts in flames, a yellow and orange wave envelopes me as the roar of the fire smothers all other sounds. But, even with all of this, I feel no pain. The purple barrier protecting me, strains against the strength of the Fizzit's magic. It lasts long enough to protect me from the fire and shatters like glass when the spell starts to recede. Hovering above me, preparing another spell, is Kona on her Flying Broom. I wave at her, grateful for her timely Arcane Dome.
Before the flames fully extinguish, two malicious weapons swing at me and I have enough presence of mind to dodge only one, leaning away from the sword and into the downward axe.
[Taylor Rounds deals 89 slashing damage!]
[You have lost control of your right arm]
[Debuff! Bleeding 10, per 2 seconds]
The lifeless hunk of flesh that was my arm up to the shoulder joint hits the ground like a stunned fish and I focus every mental faculty I have left into a quick 7HP Survival Craft heal to stop the Bleed debuff. I have enough time to watch my arm start to evaporate before I teleport behind Taylor and instictively try to use my right arm to attack, but I only feel horrifying pain as nothing moves. Instead, I drive my left claw into the bastard's spine and am rewarded.
[Vital Spot! You deal 174 piercing damage!]
[You receive 20 lightning damage!]
[You are paralyzed for 5 seconds!]
My body involuntarily tenses up and I slide off the Orc-Giant's back, hitting the dirt for another 5 damage. (24/138HP) From the ground, I can see Taylors armor crackling with electricity. He's trying to turn around, but his legs turn to soggy noodles and he uses his arms to brace himself for impact. Behind him, a Thunderstruck repeatedly flies into Veron who's using his large broadsword to deflect it while also being pushed back. The ebony weapon disappears after making a deep, resounding CLANG with each strike, only to quickly fly back at him over and over again.
Taylor grips one of my legs and drags my still unresponsive body toward his fang filled maw. There's only two seconds left, but his jaws are already closing around my knee. An arrow to his head stops him momentarily, but he doesn't die. With a blank face, he traces the shaft of the arrow with his fingers, just long enough for me to regain my senses. I jam my pointy fingers into his eye sockets, dealing just enough damage to put him down for good.
The other Orc-Giant is preoccupied with a broken weapon and the efforts of trying to draw another weapon, so I look back at Fizzit William. He's using a staff, a wand, an amulet, and a ring to chain cast spells at the rest of my party. He's calling out the names of spells like a fast paced roll call. He's a magical fireworks factory that caught on fire, dealing impressive amounts of damage to everyone.
While still on the ground, I drink a Medium Health Potion and I have to ignore the intensely interesting and strangely pleasurable effect of my arm forming from a glowing mist of red. Bolts and swirls of random elements crash all around.
(74/138HP)
[William Borjer deals 45 ice damage!]
Damn rat! I look over and Veron is dead on his feet, skewered by arrows and icicles. A strange, black weapon is lodged in his right eye. Dawn is towering over me, "Sanctuary!" A huge magic circle forms beneath us and my regen wait times drop to only a few seconds, so they start their steady climb sooner. She offers her hand to me as Elsbeth, Richter, Serenity, and Kona on her broom gather inside the circle.
William is downing a bottle of blue liquid, shattering the glass on the ground. "Why d'you have to attack us, man? What did we do to you?" He points his staff at me as I dust myself off. My right arm is naked except for my Storage Bracelet. I check my inventory and laugh. Of course my Bracer and Glove are in there, they didn't technically break after all. I equip them and stare off at the Fissit, going through a list of ways we can send this idiot for a respawn.
"First of all," I walk slowly towards him, "You attacked my friend for no good reason. Second, though I really don't have anything against the hiring of NPC escorts, I don't appreciate the manner of which you treat them." The skull he's pointing my face is quivering. I push the staff to the side and he yields. "Third. Well. It looks like you have a lot of nice gear. Do a lot of missions?" Maybe he did, or maybe he and his goons killed a lot of players and NPCs to get them.
His nose scrunches, eyes rapidly jerking left and right, seemingly searching for an answer to my question. His lips move, but I can't hear anything.
"What was that?"
"I… uh… I said…"
We all notice too late. The staff head that I pushed aside shines a bright, deep blue as William shouts, "Erratic Teleport!"
I'm wrapped in a blanket of blue energy and I feel a sudden yank on my whole body. The whole world blurs around me and I finish my wild ride on a paved road surrounded by a desert. It's not the sandy, barren kind, but the sharp and crunchy bushes, lonely cacti, and shriveled trees kind. I check my map and spot my location in a sea of dark unexplored land. I zoom out, glad that I'm at least on the same continent and practically on my knees thanking Dimitria that I'm in the same country.
"Shit. I'm still about fifty miles from the lake."
I look both ways down the road, heave a deep sigh, and take my first step. Rat bastard.