"Who the fuck calls a place Crookshollow?" Lorelei muttered, rubbing her scraped knee after, yet again, tripping over. Her poor luck in finding an appropriately solid grounding for her feet was getting to the stage where she was close to asking Pete to carry her.
"Are you pissed or something?" Hild asked, making no effort to help Lorelei to her feet. "Every time I look around, you're back on your arse!"
"Look, I have a debuff running, okay?"
The Valkyrie stepped backwards as if suddenly worried whatever was wrong with Lorelei was catching. The glow of a summoned Skill appeared around her. "The fuck you say?"
Lorelei levered herself back to her feet. "It's from the Skill I used to down the Chimera. It's not got much longer to run, but it's making me more than usually unlucky at the moment. Look - " She shared her Stat screen with Hild, enjoying the flash of irritation in the woman's eyes when Lorelei's higher level was smacked into her face.
Lorelei Norton: Fortuna's Herald
Level 13
Experience 0/2500
Health 485/510
Mana 442/442
Primary Stats
Strength 17
Agility 34 (+3 Gloves of the Seer, +10% Veil of Vindication)
Stamina 23 (+2 Cloak of the Wanderer)
Intellect 22 (+5 Whispering Gloves of the Seer)
Spirit 29 (+5% Vigilante, + 3 Earrings of the Lucky Gambler)
Secondary Stats
Critical Strike 12.5% (+2% Whispering Gloves of the Seer + 2% Earrings of the Lucky Gambler)
**Reduced by 50%**
Haste 10.5% (+1 Earrings of the Lucky Gambler%)
**Reduced by 30% **
Mastery 6.5% (+0.5%)
Versatility 4%
Skills
Lucky Strike (Passive) Sometimes, you just have to trust a certain Old One is on your side. With an improved knack for hitting the mark, Lorelei’s luck seems almost... deliberate. Just don’t get too cocky. Lvl 3 - Increases the chance of positive outcomes by 15% (up from 5%) and reduces the chance of negative outcomes by 10%. Lorelei’s attacks have a 10% chance to ignore enemy defences.
Coin Toss Conundrum (Active)- **The coin will always land tails-up** Why leave things to chance? With an enhanced coin toss, even your enemies might start rooting for tails. Either way, it’s a win-win... mostly. Lvl 3 - The devastating attack on heads now deals an additional 75% damage, and the heal on tails has a 75% chance to heal Lorelei instead of the enemy. Additionally, there is now a 10% chance for both effects to occur simultaneously. Mana Cost: 50 Cooldown: 2 minutes
Random Resilience (Active)- **Chance to negate damage drops to 10%.** You might shrug off a dragon's breath or trip over a pebble. Life's a lottery! But now, the odds are more in your favour. Lvl 2 - When taking damage, there’s a 50% chance to negate it entirely. If not negated, the damage is reduced by 40%. The cooldown is reduced to 18 hours. Mana Cost: 100% of available pool. Cooldown: 18 hours
Charmed Life (Active): ** Status effects are always negative**Life's full of ups and downs, but with a charmed life, the downs aren’t quite so bad. Maybe you’ll even get a boost from the chaos! Lvl 4 - The random status effect lasts for 30 seconds (down from 2 minutes) and has a 75% chance to grant a positive buff instead of a negative one. Healing amounts are increased by 25%. Mana Cost: 30 MP Cooldown: No cooldown
The Old Swapperoonie (Active): Wah! Why is all my luck bad? Wah! For someone with a luck-based Class, you don’t half moan a lot about random outcomes... But now, you can make someone else take the fall. Lvl 2 - Once per day, you can offload all the negative consequences of your abilities onto someone else. The cooldown resets if your target dies within 5 minutes of the swap. Additionally, the transferred effects are now 25% more severe on the target. Mana Cost: 200 MP Cooldown: 24 hours
Rogue is the Best of the X-Men (Active) ** The backfire chance increases to 50%, and the stolen ability is weakened ** Sometimes, borrowing is better than owning. And when you can take someone else's powers for a spin, why not? Just watch out for that backfire… Lvl 3 - You channel your inner Rogue to temporarily steal the abilities of someone within range. The stolen ability lasts for 20 minutes and has a 20% chance to backfire. The cooldown is reduced to 45 minutes. Mana Cost: 100 MP Cooldown: 45 minutes
Inventory
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
Cloak of the Wanderer (+ 2 Stamina)
Whispering Gloves of the Seer (+5 Intellect, +3, +2% Critical Strike)
Veil of Vindication (+10% Agility, conceals identity)
Earrings of the Lucky Gambler: +3 Spirit, Increases Critical Strike chance by 2%, and Haste by 1%
Skinning Knife
2x[20 Leather Offcut]
8 [Charred Steak]
7 [Charred Steak - poisoned]. Poisoned status is hidden.
25 Gold. 87 Silver. 8 Bronze
Professions
Jack of All Trades
Skinning - Lvl 23
Cooking (Life in Your Own Hands) – Lvl 9
Leatherworking – Lvl 10 (upgrade available)
Campfire – Novice
Tailoring – Level 4
Talents
Spoilsport: Increases the chance of a positive
Fortuna's Favour: Allies within a 10-meter radius gain a 5% increase to their Critical Strike chance
If you can Dodge a Wrench: Critical Strike and Haste are increased by an additional 5% when health drops below 50%. Additionally, whenever an attack is successfully evaded, there’s a 20% chance that her next attack will be an automatic critical hit.
Titles
Kobolds’ Worst Nightmare: 35% damage against Kobolds
One Cold Bitch: Frost Resistance: +10%
Vigilante – Spirit 5%
Chance’s Gambit - Become the very embodiment of luck. However, the universe demands balance. The more she bends fate to her will, the more fate will bend back in the hours to come. Can invoke once per day. While in this state, all luck-based abilities are maximized
"Fuck's sake," Hild said, clearly unimpressed. "So, you're even more useless than usual?"
"I mean, I'd politely remind you which of us was recently largely responsible for defeating a Raid Boss. But I guess your wider point holds. Right now, I'm not firing on all cylinders."
Hild dismissed the shared notification and put her hands on her hips. "Well, just make sure you don't fuck things up for the rest of us." She turned to go, then paused and looked back,
"There's nothing there about why you're stumbling about like a smack addict."
***Help Message***
Yeah, sorry about that, flumple. That's just me being a dick. I'm rolling on every one of your footsteps for shits and giggles. Would you like me to stop?
"If you wouldn't mind," Lorelei said through gritted teeth. "I think I might have enough to be going on with."
*
The trek leading towards the cavern of Crookshollow had started innocuously enough - especially considering the rather doom-filled beginning to their journey. However, it quickly became apparent that the landscape was more than just unfriendly—it was actively hostile. The giant yew trees overhead grew thicker and more twisted as they went. As Lorelei was already experiencing, the ground beneath their feet was uneven, and from the moment they’d entered the woods, every few steps, she had been stumbling over a hidden root or sinking ankle-deep into a patch of mud that squelched hungrily as if it were considering swallowing her whole.
“This place is bloody awful,” Chrissy grumbled. “I’ve spent more than my fair share of time in festival fields, and I have to say, Glastonbury '97 was way more pleasant.”
“I’d take a Coldplay set over this any day,” Kris’s voice was barely audible over the sound of his own boots sloshing through yet another puddle.
Steffan—busy consulting his Guide and Map—suddenly raised his hand, bringing them all to a halt. “We’re getting close to the edge of the Cursed Cavern. So, from everything I can see, we should be on the lookout for sentient puddles of acid.”
Michael, who had been on the receiving end of the Chimera's
“Sentient puddles?” Kris said, glancing back the Necromancer. “You mean to say that some of the puddles here have evolved and now spend their time pondering the meaning of life before they dissolve your feet?”
Steffan shrugged. “Not so much. It’s more that they tend to move towards any heat source and consume it, which, in this case, would be us.”
“Lovely,” Zorrobar muttered. “So not only do we have to worry about where we step, but we also have to worry about the water trying to eat us.”
“Just what we needed.” Hild moaned. “Murderous puddles. What’s next? A river with anger management issues?”
“I wouldn’t joke about that,” Steffan said, his tone far too serious for anyone’s comfort. “From what my Guide is sharing, it appears this place has a habit of turning bad jokes into worse realities.”
As they pressed on, the path grew even narrower and the canopy of trees more densely packed. The fog that lurked on the ground thickened, making it difficult to see more than a few feet ahead. Lorelei tried to shake off her growing feelings of paranoia, but it was impossible. Branches seemed to lean in closer as they walked, blocking out what little light was left, as if the forest was trying to choke them, to suffocate them in its damp, fetid embrace. Suddenly, there was a splash from behind them, followed by a curse from Hild.
“Fucking hell, what is that?”
Lorelei spun around to see Hild standing in the middle of a large puddle of what could only be described as liquid hate. The water—or whatever it was—bubbled and hissed around her feet, sending up tiny tendrils of steam that curled in the air.
“Don’t just stand there!” Hild snapped, her voice strained as she struggled to pull her feet free. “It’s trying to melt my boots!”
Steffan was already accessing his Guide; his brow furrowed in concentration. “That would be one of the sentient puddles I mentioned. They’re drawn to body heat, so it’s best to avoid standing still for too long in one spot.”
“Now he tells us,” Hild gave one last, desperate tug that sent her stumbling backwards, free of the puddle but minus one boot, which was now slowly dissolving in the acid. “Great,” she said, glaring down at her ruined footwear. “This really is the quest that keeps on giving."
Lorelei suppressed a laugh. It wasn’t that she found Hild’s predicament funny—well, not entirely—it was just that in the face of everything else they had to deal with, the sight of the mouthy bitch hobbling on one foot was almost making her feel warm towards karma.
“Maybe the puddle’s passing comment on your foot hygiene?” Zorrobar quipped, earning a glare from Hild.
“Laugh it up, firebug,” she shot back. “You’re next if we come across anything that hates flashy robes.”
“We should keep moving.” Steffan said, keen to break in to the squabbling. “The Guide says these puddles tend to travel in packs.”
“Packs?” Michael and Michelle asked at the same time, a note of incredulity in their voices. “Puddles don’t form packs.”
“These do,” Steffan said, his tone grim. “And they’re not just mindless blobs of acid—they’re smart. They know how to hunt.”
“Brilliant,” Lorelei said. “Hunted by puddles. Can this day get any worse?”
***Help Message***
Sorry, I can't leave just leave that hanging there.
The ground beneath them began to tremble, sending ripples through the surrounding puddles and shaking loose bits of dirt and rock from the trees. There was a deep, guttural rumble from somewhere beneath their feet.
“Ah, there it is,” Zorrobar said, his voice laced with false cheer. “Well done. That’s the sound of things getting worse.”