Mordecai: YOU DID WHAT?
Mordecai was livid. I had finished telling him about what happened with my spell and he was doing his best Donut impersonation. My ears instinctively folded flat in a futile attempt to mute him. His reprimanding voice, shouting through my head in all caps, stung with parental disapproval.
Carl: It's my fault, Mordecai. I didn't properly warn her about Samantha's powers.
Mordecai: It doesn't matter what the spell's level is; a successful cast is always dangerous! That is exactly why I told her to never cast it! There is a big difference between creating a large fire and one that uncontrollably spreads! The fact that it was upcast to such a high level means you're all extra fucked!
My stomach knotted itself up further as Mordecai explained just how impossible it was to undo the reaction I had started with the Updraft spell. Nothing short of a spell that could call a rainstorm or tidal wave, or an artifact like the one Carl had used to dump an ocean on Laracos, could stop it now.
The funeral pyre I had created for my fallen teammates was about to include several more participants.
I was sitting on the broken remnants of a stone column, holding my face in my hands. If I closed my eyes, and covered my ears, I could almost pretend that I was in the warm sun on a windy day. Not in the center of some flaming cyclone hot enough to melt lead. I could pretend that I had not just set off a spell that would burn down all of Havana and everyone in it.
Velma and Samantha seemed oblivious to the surrounding dire circumstances and were animatedly chatting. Velma was describing, in lurid detail, the nuances of boiling and popping someone's eyes before they burned to death as if it were a family secret recipe. I was doing my best to tune it out. I was still queasy from the alcohol I had consumed and, along with my stress induced nausea, it wouldn't take much more to make me expel the small breakfast I had eaten earlier. I focused on taking slow, deep breaths, while Samantha, enraptured by Velma's passionate tale of immolation, nibbled on one of my ears.
Carl: Perhaps we can take advantage of the fire, use it to flush out Ines so she doesn't interfere with the Amayon quest. Then we hideout in the saferooms until the storm passes.
Mordecai: Won't work. This is a war spell we are dealing with. Do you know what distinguishes a war spell from a regular spell? It is not their size, it is their ability to destroy infrastructure. This fire will destroy the saferoom entrances, either trapping you inside or ejecting you. And the same goes for the stairwell exit. You likely have a few hours tops to get down the stairwell before it's destroyed.
Donut: NICE GOING REN.
Carl: Stairwells can't be destroyed, only the entry vestibules, and I know there is a way to get around them. I just need more time to figure out how.
Mordecai: By the gods, Carl, even if there were still a system bug that would allow you to do that, you don't have the time. Give it up and get off this floor while you still can.
Again with the stairwell plan.
I had been retracing Carl’s activities across various player forums and discovered that he had enlisted the help of several crawlers to help him run several experiments. This pertained to the vestibules around the stairwells and hell portals the demons were creating. Carl had hypothesized that the two could be exploited, and I was starting to believe he was on to something. I could sense his intuition through the questions he asked, leading as they were, and the conclusive results they were producing. I still couldn’t figure out what he was planning, couldn’t see what he saw, but I could tell he knew more than he was letting on.
Carl and Mordecai argued for a bit, Donut chiming in as well.
Mordecai: Ren, how is you shield holding up?
I hadn’t expected the question and mentally fumbled with my UI to pull up my player stats.
Ren: It's fine, it—holy shit. It's almost level 16. It's status is now overcharged.
It had been level 12 before I had started setting this fire. Not only that but the shield’s health pool was three times higher than normal. It must have had something to due with this new overcharged status.
Mordecai: Not surprising, your resistance is just a hair above 100% and there's still a system bug involving negative damage numbers. Your shield skill is likely gaining a massive amount of experience. Now that it's above level 15, you can charge it when it's subjected to fire damage. This will increase the maximum health pool of the shield until it is overcharged, granting you temporary invulnerability to all fire damage if it ever breaks. Then it'll reset.
Carl: That's great!
Mordecai: It's not much of a silver-lining. The shield can only be damaged with fire, and with her already high innate resistances, triggering the effect will be unreliable at best. Ren, what does your fire investigation skill say about the firestorm? How fast will it spread?
Ren: 5 kilometers an hour for now. 10 once the reaction completes.
Mordecai: And how far is it to the necropolis?
Ren: ....5 kilometers.
I had already pulled up the map and done the math. The storm would finish forming in 5 minutes, giving us less than 30 minutes to reach the Necrópolis Cristóbal Colón and hunt down Quan. After that, it was only another 5 kilometers to the church stairwell, giving us a similarly small window.
Mordecai: Once Imani is done handling those demons, I'll have her create a firebreak around the stairwell. Hopefully, it'll buy you two more time. But you better get it into gear now. You got less than half an hour to catch this Quan fellow before he bolts. Carl, you need to get that robe of his if you and the guild have any hope of making it past this next floor. A celestial tier item in the hands of a competent group is more powerful than a several dozen crawlers combined.
My chest rumbled with a silent growl and I bore my teeth. Quan was still out there, still alive. He had killed the rest of my team and I, despite having multiple advantages against Quan, had been powerless to stop him. While I still breathed, I would hunt him down without relent. Our fight was meant to be to the death, and it was far from over.
Carl: I'm in place. Samantha, grab hold of Ren.
A thought occurred to me and I quickly checked my spell menu.
Ren: Heads up Carl, my Heatwave is still in effect, make sure you don't have any explo—"
“Gaaah!” I was cut off when Samantha, who was still chewing on my ear, turned and bit me on the neck. Her fanged teeth were made of rubber and didn’t actually hurt so much as startle the hell out of me.
Samantha: We're ready!
Ren: Wait—
I tried to say more, but Carl activated his teleportation ability to recall Samantha at that moment and I was violently wrenched away.
It was different from the teleportation that had summoned my team and I to Cuba. There had been no sense of movement, you just blinked and the scenery changed. Samantha’s teleport was more like Recall, a translocation spell that moved a target to the caster in a straight line, ignoring solid objects, but still physically moving the target. One moment I was seated, the next I was hurtling through space, followed by an equally abrupt stop.
Not the worst sensation you could experience, just some mild vertigo. But for me, someone who was already sick to their stomach, it pushed me to the brink. My head pounded painfully, and I fell to all four when I landed, overcome by waves of nausea. I took several deep breaths, trying to settle my stomach that was climbing up my throat. I opened my eyes to see a pair of immaculate barefeet right in front of me and subsequently emptied my stomach for the second time this morning.
So much for breakfast.
Carl jumped back as I heaved. By the end, my eyes and mouth were watering, but I eventually managed to keep my gorge down. I also unequipped my choker, pulling it into my inventory to disable Heatwave. Fortunately, it hadn’t had time to affect the surrounding area.
"Jesus, I'd help you up, but you're radiating heat like a stove-top. I think you're hotter than Chris when he’s summoning lava", said Carl.
"Odd complement, but I'll take it", I said, wiping my mouth.
"How are you feeling?"
“Warn a girl next time, would you. That was—urp”, I sucked in another deep breathe, “thoroughly unpleasant”
“Donut reacted much the same way. It’s really that bad, huh?” Carl helped me up into a seated position while trying not to touch anything metal on me..
“Don’t compare me to her”, I growled, “I’m still suffering from alcohol poisoning”
“Here, take this.” Carl produced a Hair of the Dog potion, a Mordecai specialty, and it would cure any alcohol related debuff.
"Thanks," I muttered, uncorking the potion and drinking it manually to wash the bile from my mouth. It tasted of pickle juice and with a splash of gin.
I shivered as I felt something squeeze the side of my neck. Samantha was still clamped to my neck. I pried her off and glared at her.
"What was that for?" I demanded.
"Don't lie, you know you liked it," Samantha teased.
I got to my feet and threw her down the street. She screamed something about my mother.
Carl observed me for a moment. “You look like you’ve been dragged through a chimney”, he finally said.
"Hmm?" I said as I continue to sip on the potion and took time to look at myself. I was covered head to toe in soot and ash. I rubbed at my fur and a gray-white cloud drifted off. My headache was clearing up, and my nausea was subsiding, courtesy of the potion, so I decided to take a simplistic solution.
“Step back a bit,” I told Carl, and he did. I then proceeded to shake myself off, just like a dog. A gray-white cloud formed around me as ash flew everywhere, speckled with glowing orange particles of still burning cinders.
“You can actually do that?” Carl seemed both surprised and amused.
I rolled my eyes, “I’m called a Dog Soldier for a reason.”
“Didn’t think it’d be so literal. Let’s make sure you don’t do that around Donut. It’ll likely set her off, worse than usual.”
“Is that why you summoned me here and not to the saferoom? To keep Donut and me separated?”
“That and because there’s a closer saferoom just inside the settlement.”
It seemed a reasonable explanation, though I suspected that preventing me from being able to challenge Donut to a card battle also played a role. Granted, it could have also been for my own safety. Donut might be trigger-happy enough to welcome any reason to fight me. It was best that we kept our distance.
“Well, in any case,” I said, pulling out Garret’s pet-carrier and a small dagger, “I want you to take some of my items and head straight for the saferoom once we are inside.
Carl stepped back and shook his head, “No, you hold on to them.”
“The only reason I bothered pulling all those goddamned bolts out of myself instead of letting myself bleed out was so I could get Garret to safety. I’m not going to risk—”
“And that’s exactly why I am not taking him from you. I am sorry that you got dragged into all of this, I really am. But I need you in the game and need your help. I can’t have anyone calling it quits now, not when we’re so close to figuring out the stairwells.”
I growled at Carl before I could stop myself.
By ‘we’, Carl meant the crawlers from the forums that were working with him to create a plan escape the floor. He was trying to save as many others as possible, just like on all the other floors. He was still at the wheel, but this time I was in the front seat with him, not some extra hanging onto the back, clinging for dear life. I was still needed.
I rubbed my temples to calm myself down and let out a deep breath before speaking.
"You’re hiding something about this plan of yours and, frankly, I don’t care what it is. But if you really think it can work, then that’s all the more reason for you not to risk your neck more than you have to. If we are going to work together to catch Quan, then Samantha and I will take the lead and you will support us from the back. I promise not to get myself killed, but you better well as hell do the same."
"Alright, deal."
I studied Carl’s face. I didn’t know him well-enough to trust him to trust him at face value, but he was the type of person who wore his heart on his sleeve. While he could hide his communications from the showrunners, he had a god-awful poker face Even without my Earth Hobby potion I could kick his ass at cards.
After a moment, I decided to believe him and nodded.
Carl handed me a few other potions Mordecai had prepared, “How are your buffs looking?” he asked, looking me over.
"My rest buff wore off a while ago, and I’ll need to get to a saferoom to reset most of them,” I replied.
“Okay, then we should swing by the saferoom anyway before reaching the temple. These trace potions should conceal us for ten to fifteen minutes. More than enough time for you to reset your bonuses.” He paused, considering something, then continued, “When you said most, does that mean you can reset some of them now?”
“Well, yeah, I have one I can reset now, but…”, I trailed off. I hadn’t meant to bring this up.
“But what?” Carl inquired.
I began to chew on my lip. I didn’t want to enlist Carl’s help for this, but I needed every buff I could get; even if the requirements of the buff were absurd as this one. Neither Donut nor the rest of the guild were here, which was a small blessing, but I had a sneaking suspicion, based on my UI’s view count monitor, that this could make it on a future recap episode.
At least it’s not as bad as the things Carl had to do for his bonuses. You can wear shoes and pants after all.
I let out a deep sigh, “It has to be done outside, or in a really large room, and… I need a second person to help me with it”
Carl, having picked up on my reluctance, raised an eyebrow, “Okay, I guess I can help. So what's the problem?”
I huffed, “nope, no problem. Not really anyway. It’s…”, I produced a tennis ball from my inventory and muttered, “just a game of catch.”
“Catch?”
“Damnit, just read it for yourself”, I handed the tennis ball to Carl and pretended to look away while he examined it. My foot tapped impatiently.
Carl examined the ball, his eyebrows climbing higher as he read the description:
Holy Fetch Sphere of Sacred Bonding
And thus the master spoke to the beasts of the forest, and said, 'Who's a good girl?'
In the hallowed halls of companionship, there lies no bond more sacred than that between man and dog. This divine artifact, forged in the fires of unwavering loyalty and boundless affection, serves as a testament to the ancient ritual of fetch. Through the reenactment of this holy sacrament, the thrower bestows upon their beloved canine companion a boon of unparalleled might and vigor.
Let it be known that the act of fetch is not merely a game, but a solemn rite, a dance of trust and joy that reinforces the eternal bond between master and beast. Cast forth this blessed sphere with the reverence it deserves, and watch as your four-legged ally is imbued with the strength of ages. For every throw is a prayer, every catch a hymn, and every wagging tail a testament to the sacred covenant between human and hound.
When caught in mid-air, this item grants a canine companion the Good Girl/Boy buff for 30 hours. Can only be activated when thrown by another crawler. Stat values vary depending on how much love and care you put into the throw. So you gotta mean it.
“You’re kidding me,” Carl finally said, amusement in his eyes.
"Really? This coming from the guy who has to pedicure his feet every day and walks around in his underwear?" I shot back, irritation creeping into my voice.
“Yeah, I know the feeling. Our buffs come at the cost of our dignity”, if he was trying to sound placating, he failed. There was a hint of smugness to his voice, and it pissed me off.
I turned to him and snapped, “I don’t need your sympathy or anyone giving me shit over this more than I already have. I’d get it, I’m a dog, and I got to do dog things whether I want to or not.” I took a deep breath before finishing. “Okay? Any more questions?”
Carl held up his hands in a pacifying gesture.
“Alright, alright”, he said, then pointed at the ball in his hand, “so I just need to throw this?”
“Yes”, I said, letting out a deep breath as I rubbed my temples once again. “The optimal distance is about 50 meters. Mungun would use his sling to…uh” I stopped and thought for a moment.
That was it wasn’t? Why I was getting so high-strung about this. I had only allowed team members I was close to help me with this before. Mungun and Chuluuna typically helped me in the past, sometimes Khulan as well. It was part of our morning ritual: throw the ball for your friend who turned herself into a dog. A brief moment of levity.
Carl was just a stranger by comparison, and it felt like an intrusion. But that wasn’t his fault. Nor did any of this really matter, not in the face of hunting down Quan. Not after the pain and shame he had put me through. Not after killing my teammates. This little humiliation would be a drop compared to what I had planned from him once I found him.
Carl didn’t seem to notice my break in speech, as I continued."Your xistera should work just fine. Just make it a high arc so I can catch it in my mouth. It won't count otherwise."
I heard Carl try to suppress a snort.
“Sorry”, he said quickly, “uh, so, this is like a performance? The more realistic it is, the better the buff?”
“Yeah, more or less”, I replied sourly.
“So”, he said, in a tone of voice that made me narrow my eyes at him, “if I patted you on the head after you returned with the ball, would that improve the buff?”
“Yes.” I said through gritted teeth. I could see crows feet by his eyes, hinting as the stupid smile plastered across his face, hidden under his black bandana. Carl really did have a shitty poker face and I could tell what he was thinking.
Don’t you fucking say it.
“What if I called you a good—?”
"Bite me, Carl! Just throw the damn ball!"
----------------------------------------
Entering Innistrad
Carl and I received the notification as we crossed into the Necrópolis Cristóbal Colón. The necropolis was quiet and colorful, a stark contrast to the chaos I had left behind in Havana.
Carl whispered, “The name of the settlement is different. Quan must have killed the mayor.”
We crept through the necropolis that served as the Ghommid settlement under the effects of the stealth potions Mordecai had prepared. The Pass Without Trace potions concealed our whereabouts, preventing us from showing up on the player map. While not as good as invisibility, they would last much longer: at least 15 minutes for me, and about 10 for Carl, since my intelligence was higher than his. Quan wouldn’t know we were here unless he was looking right at us or we did something to announce our presence.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
I regained some of my strength after the game of catch. I now had a +10% bonus to all my stats, a 12% reduction in damage, and 20% increase in bite damage. The stat bonus had triggered after I returned with the tennis ball to Carl. The damage reduction was added on after Carl patted me on the head, and it might have been higher, if not for me slugging Carl in the stomach immediately after—before he could call me anything. Hitting Carl had added the bite damage. The incentivization structure for this buff was all over the place and I was convinced the AI was just making stuff up on the fly.
Not that I minded having an excuse to hit Carl, now or in the future.
“It’s a ghost town,” Carl muttered, “I mean, it’s inhabited by ghosts, or spirits, but it’s deserted now.”
The settlement had buildings fashioned after gravestones, mausoleums, and mortuaries. Yet the atmosphere of the place was more akin to Spirited Away than that of The Nightmare Before Christmas, though it was still decorated for the Christmas holiday. The streets were well lit by lamps, Christmas lights, and glowing wisps. Beautiful creeks and streams cut through the necropolis: the result of Carl and Donut having captured the plague god Asojano and resurrecting the goddess Yemaya at the center temple.
I didn’t know the full story, but I understood that the temple had been a Celestial Thorn Room. A place meant to resurrect a god. Not a real god, mind you, just an in-game god. It had been in that temple that Carl and Donut had a falling out with Team Quiteria, where Anton had died, and where Ines had turned Paz into a totem.
Carl consulted his map. “I can see Quan’s marker in the temple. What do you see on your map?”
Carl could see Quan while I couldn’t, thanks to his Find Crawler skill. But, with my superior senses, I could see and identify the mobs in a wider area than he could. Several white-tagged NPCs, the Ghommid residents, hid inside various buildings, occasionally peaking outside for threats. The settlement was filled with several large red-tagged mobs and prowled the streets. Even without the map to reveal what they were, I could tell by the thick trails of orange slime that smelled sickly sweet what had chased the inhabitants into hiding..
“Sluggalos everywhere, and lots of them. They appear to be patrolling the settlement,” I said.
Carl nodded, “They must have chased away the Ghommids. Let’s be careful and stick to the shadows. Something unusual is also going on, but I don’t know what. The viewer count is skyrocketing, so they must know something we don’t.”
“My counter has been at the top ever since you teleported me,” I replied. “I just thought those were viewers hoping we’d fight.”
Carl shrugged, “Your numbers are going to be high simply because we are together. Use the rolling average counter. It’s better at showing unusual upticks in view counts.”
I changed the counter in my player UI, and the needle was still high but Carl assured me that it would soon readjust.
It was a straight shot to the temple at the center of the necropolis, but the main paths were patrolled by Sluggalos. They milled about, wrecking shop fronts and attacking any Ghommids that found themselves outside. We had to take several detours down backstreets and through overgrown wooded areas to avoid the slugs.
I noticed that I couldn’t hear Carl’s footsteps when he stood in the shadows, but I could still smell him. He had some kind of stealth ability, but it was underleveled. Likely, because he was always with Donut and her pet velociraptor, Mongo, neither of whom knew the meaning of stealth.
A large central plaza encircling the temple was swarming with Sluggalos. Dozens upon dozens, and some of them were huge. They hadn’t been any larger than a cat last I had seen. But these were a full head taller than me, some even larger.
Ren: Donut, what’s Quan’s player level?
Donut: HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT? WHY DON’T YOU KEEP TRACK OF IT YOURSELF?
Carl: On the leaderboard Donut, what’s Quan’s level?
There was a scoff and a pause while Donut went to check the leaderboard.
Donut: HE’S LEVEL 74.
Carl and I looked at eachother
“I thought slug pox killed you after it exceeded your player level. How the hell are there slugs in the eighties and nineties”
“Maybe he transferred the infection to something higher level. Could have done that with a spell like Community Pool”, Carl suggested.
“If he could do that, why didn’t he just transfer it to me after he emptied his hand?”
“It’s a difficult spell to pull off. Even Prepotente wasn’t able to get it to work, but not for a lack of trying. Maybe Quan learned such a spell by worshiping a god or something.” Carl paused and thought for a moment, then shook his head. “But, I don’t think that is it. As I said before, something else is going on and I think we’ll need to get to Quan to find out what.”
“So what now?”
“Up to you”, he thumbed over his shoulder at the crypt a ways back with a large neon sign, “saferooms right there and maybe Mordecai can help us figure this out.”
I nodded, “Okay, let’s duck into the saferoom. I will drop off some of my things and reset the rest of my buffs while you consult Mordecai. It’d take me five minutes tops. Once we’re ready, it’s like, what, two, three hundred meters to the temple? We can down our invisibility potions and rush to the temple. We’d be there in seconds.”
“Okay, but I should take the lead since I can spot traps better than you.”
“Can’t you just use your Tripper to disable any traps?”
“It’ll set them off, not disable them. Explosive and alarm traps will still make a lot of noise, and even if there aren’t any, I’m pretty sure he will still get an alert for any trap triggered.”
I didn’t like the idea of Carl taking the lead, putting himself in more danger, but he made a solid point. I knew Quan had a few traps already, Carl’s teleport traps that he had disarmed for one. Those alone could throw a wrench into our plans if we tripped one.
“Fine, let’s go”
The saferoom was in a small town square that looked like it had been a bazaar of some kind before a herd of Sluggalos wrecked the place. Their orange slime trails were everywhere, but the slugs had since moved on and there were no patrols around the square. I headed straight for it, eager to access the guildhall while Carl lagged behind. His eyes flicked; he was communicating with someone. I suspected it had to do with his stairwell plan.
I stepped through the crypt door with neon sign spelling “The Yellow Zone,” I found myself in what looked like a medieval-styled pub. I had barely time to take in the wooden beams and dim lighting before a sudden jolt hit me, and I was outside again, standing in a different town square from before. I was enclosed in a small, fenced-in garden in the middle of the square with a marble carving of an angel at the center.
A booming announcement shook the ground.
Peaking at Number 53 on June 6, 1998, it’s “Hokus Pokus”
The alarm trap I had set off blasted god-awful rap music at a deafening volume. My sensitive ears felt like they were being shredded by the noise. I covered them, diving to the ground and fumbling for my invisibility potion in my menus while I desperately searched for the alarm module. The auditory damage was slow, yet excruciating, and the beat of the music hammer through my skull.
Ren: Carl, the saferoom was trapped. I just got teleported. Now an alarm trap is playing.
Carl: I can hear it. I think you’re opposite the temple from me. I’m running to get to you.
Ren: No! Take an invisibility potion and meet me at the temple. I’ll find you by your smell. We need to get to Quan before he rabbits.
Carl: Don’t engage any Sluggalos. They’re Quan’s minions, and you’ll be pulled into a card battle if either of you attacks.
I sent my affirmative and finally located the alarm module, pulling it into my inventory to mute it. The silence left my ears ringing violently. I surveyed the square, a surreal landscape that looked like a cartoonish depiction of a Halloween cemetery with Christmas decorations scattered around. Tombstones adorned with tinsel, skeletons wrapped in festive lights, all scattered about, covered in a thick layer of orange slime.
The square's perimeter was lined with two thick walls of Sluggalos on opposite sides, attracted by the music of the alarm trap. They still bobbed their heads to the beat of the now-muted music and I was pretty sure several of them were beatboxing. Their absurd face-paint and studded black leather made them look like a clownish version of the band KISS. They ranged in sizes from that of a small dog, to that of a deer or small horse, and they carried an assortment of random weapons, from spiked bats to rusted swords, one even held a flaming katana, all adding to a bizarre spectacle.
It didn’t appear that they had seen me before I had taken the invisibility potion, and I saw I had a straight shot to the temple through the corridor of Sluggalos. I could sip through the mass of slugs without them even knowing I was here.
Just as I prepared to run, I noticed a smaller slug had climbed atop the marble statue next to me. Over the tinnitus ringing in my ears, I heard it scream.
“Mosh Pit!”
The Sluggalos on either side charged at each other, brandishing their weapons like medieval warriors heading into battle, whooping and hollering as they sought to crash into each other, right where I stood.
For slugs they were frighteningly fast, closing the distance in seconds. Panic surged through me, and I reflexively encircled myself with a Wall of Fire. The flames roared to life around me and the little flower garden where I stood. The surge of fire erupted, and the Sluggalos ran into it screaming with battlerage and then pain, punctuated by a sound like fat crackling on a skillet. The air filled with the sickly sweet smell of burnt marshmallows as the Sluggalos' slimy bodies ignited.
Combat Started.
My invisibility ended as four cards appeared over my left hand. I unclipped my handaxe from my belt, holding it in an inverted grip so I could interact with the card, and attached Velma to her support arm. The blazing wall stood between me and the chaotic melee. The Sluggalos, still intent on their collision, barreled into the flames. Their shrieks and the sizzle of their burning flesh filled the air, but they didn’t seem to notice me yet and I had a moment to scan my cards.
Ren: Sorry, Carl, I had to engage.
Carl: What happened?
Ren: Was caught in a mosh pit.
Carl: Shit. We’ll have to work with this. Quan should be stuck in combat as well. Hopefully he wasn’t able to activate his flight.
Ren: Wait for me to get there. Don’t fight him alone.
Carl: I won’t be alone. Donut’s in place, I’ll summon her totems to my location. We’re going with the original plan.
Ren: Like hell we are!
Quan was dangerous, and even with a full team I hadn’t been able to stop him. Carl was formidable, and his use of explosives allowed him to take down foes that would normally outclass him, but facing Quan alone, even with the help of his and Donut’s card exploit was an unnecessary risk.
That, and I wanted to be the one to kill Quan.
Forced to improvise, I threw out one of my cards and summoned Hailibu, a two-headed serpent the size of a horse. With the other hand, I spun and I laid down a line of fire with Velma, cutting a blazing path through the sea of slugs.
“Hailibu, keep them off me,” I shouted at the totem. Whoever had designed the totem had severely misinterpreted the story of Hailibu the Hunter, but they had at least given the totem the hunter’s noble spirit.
“We will protect thee, Huntress” said the head on the left, and it sprayed the slugs on my left with a petrifying breath, temporarily turning them into statues.
“We will smite thy foes,” said the other head, and it fired a bolt of lightning from its mouth at the slugs to my right, causing the nearby slugs to swell and explode like potatoes in a microwave, covering me in orange gore.
“I said keep them off me,” I growled in disgust as I wiped the slime off my face and spat. Some of it had gotten into my mouth.
Velma: I have been defiled! Cleanse me this instant!
A large gooey mass of slime had covered the front of Velma, gunking up her pilot light and nozzle. Normally, I could easily clear the obstruction by casting any number of fire spells through Velma, but my spells were locked down by card combat. Behind me, Hailibu whipped his tail around, striking down a slug with sheer force, then turned to bite down with each head as two more Sluggalos approached. More were coming and they eagerly threw themselves into the melee, many of them just attacking each other. But several Sluggalos had finally taken notice of me and charged, while even more were just being forced towards me by the growing throng.
It looked like I’d have to blast my way out.
Just before the surge of slugs smothered me, I used my Protective Shell card, sending the slugs flying in all directions with the expanding sphere. Hailibu, who had his tail wrapped around a slug clad in a studded biker jacket, also went flying away along with his slug. In the pocket of space I summoned my next totem: a small, yellow, labrador retriever.
Upon seeing me, Yellow Dog—yes, that was his name—wagged his tail with such force at the sight of me that his whole body shook and wobbled. He sniffed me eagerly, interested in all the new smells I had acquired since my last shower. And there were a lot.
I had only a dozen or so seconds to calm the dog totem and get him to behave. Usually, I had a teammate get him under control and give him commands. Getting him to attack wasn’t too difficult either, but I had been the first thing that the happily aloof dog had seen, and I didn’t think I’d be able to get him to focus in time for me to aim him. But, fortunately, I didn’t need his precision strike for this situation.
So, I howled.
I wasn’t casting one of my bard spells this time, it was just a normal, animalistic howl. Because Yellow Dog was still a dog, and wouldn’t be able to resist joining in. The totem’s ears shot up, and he went suddenly rigid. I could hear a rumble in his throat. I howled again and that did the trick. I dove to the ground, covering my still-ringing ears, as Yellow Dog threw back his head and howled.
A telekinetic shockwave erupted from his mouth, a directionless wall of force that slammed into everything that heard it, sending slugs, ornaments, tinsel, and tomestones flying. On the ground, near the epicenter, I was relatively safe, but the blast rattled me to my bones. I began to lift my head but ducked down immediately as Yellow Dog continued to bark excitedly, firing focused blasts into the fire. I managed to shoot out a hand and grab hold of his muzzle to silence him long enough from me to pet the dog and calm him down.
“Good boy,” I said to the dog who still wiggled with excitement, as I surveyed what remained of the square. The marble statue was gone and so were most of the Sluggalos, but there were still several around the square, many dead or disoriented, but several were quickly recovering. I summoned the last totem in my hand, Sunchaser, and I used my Taunt card, which I had attached to my Card Clip. I sent the giant kangaroo rat off running through the square in a loop and then through the largest group of Sluggalos, attracting their aggro, causing all the remaining slugs to chase after her.
“Go get ‘em, boy!” I said as I coaxed Yellow Dog, who gleefully chased after the slugs, barking after the slugs, blasting them to pieces and destroying more buildings in the process.
Good thing there are no town guards, I thought, as the protective barrier timed out and I bolted for the temple
Perhaps it was because of the ringing in my ears, or the slime in my nose, but I didn’t since the approach of the new arrival beside me. It was only because of Velma's Auto-Parry that I even reacted at all. Velma barrel suddenly swept out to my side to catch the blow: a spiked ball tied to the end of several strands of long braided hair, as thick as powerline cables. The other end was attached to the head of a towering Sluggalos the size of a pony. He must have been outside the effect of Sunchaser’s taunt. It whipped its head back and the flail-like weapon wrapped around Velma’s barrel Indiana Jones style.
Well, shit.
I braced my feet and leveled Velma at the slug, only to remember that I still couldn’t fire her with her nozzle gunked up. I flipped the grip on my handaxe to hack at the cable-like braids of hair, but the slug yanked back its head and I was pulled bodily off my feet into the air, tumbling head over heels, until I was slammed down on the ground behind it.
I hit the cobblestone street with my back at the foot of the Sluggalo, knocking the breath from me, and landing close enough to examine the massive slug.
The Big Small. Sluggalo. Level 83
The goddamn slug was almost twenty levels above my own.
The Big Small spun on me, and swung a large, bent metal bat as thick as a fire extinguisher, held in its slimy tail, aiming for my face. I tried to parry the blow with my handaxe but only managed to deflect it towards my chest armor where it hit me with the force of a sledgehammer. My armor, meant to protect me from projectiles, shrapnel, and fire, did little to absorb the crushing impact of the blow and I fell more than one of my ribs crack. My health plummeted by more than half and the air forced from my lung was tinged with the smell and taste of blood.
“Get wrecked!” The Big Small bellowed in my face as he lifted the bat from another strike. Fear shot through me like ice cold water in my veins as I struggled to breath. I couldn’t take another hit like that. I glanced at the fourth card in my hand, took a gamble.
In hindsight, it was a regrettable decision. Not that I had many other options.
I play Temporary Immortality, on myself.
Two things happened. The first was that my whole body was covered in an amber light. The second was that my health bar disappeared and a solid yellow bar with a 30 second timer took its place. What didn’t change was that The Big Small still stood over me, swinging his oversized bat, and, this time, I took the full force of the blow with my center of mass.
A word the wise: immortality hurts.
The blow should have killed me, but under the effects of the card, I couldn’t receive a fatal blow. But that didn’t stop it from hurting like hell. Being immortal only meant I couldn’t die, but not that I couldn’t feel pain or receive injury. Even worse, I couldn’t get to my feet. Hell, I couldn’t even feel my feet, and the rest of my body hurt too much to even move. I was unable to run away, so, out of desperation, I played possum, and prayed that the Sluggalo would relent before the timer was up.
But it didn’t.
The Sluggalo struck me again, and again. And again. Each blow pounding me further and further into the ground, creating a Ren-shaped indention in the process. All I had managed to do with the card was draw out my death to be longer and more agonizing than it had to be. The great irony of it all was that I had bought the self-destruct bracelet, the one I had used to blow up Carl’s stairwell, for this very reason: to ensure a quick and painless death. This game was screwing me over, even in death.
With 15 seconds still left on the clock, The Big Small wound up for his sixth strike, or seventh if you count the hair flail, and promptly exploded like an over-pressurized soda bottle. Its insides ruptured out over me, drenching me and filling my personalized crater with orange slimy fluid and entrails. If I could still breathe, I would be drowning in the orange offal.
Same blessings, I suppose.
I was barely aware of my surroundings as a pair of unseen hands dragged me out of my hole. I was laid on my back and a liquid down my mouth. I recognized the taste as a healing potion, and a superior one at that. I felt my bones knit themselves back together. I would have screamed in agony if my ribcage were any faster at piecing itself back together. It was all I could do to suck in a small breath.
“Ow” was all I managed to say.
By the time my immortality card expired, I was fully healed. Continued to lay on my back, looking up at the thick clouds of black smoke obscuring the early dawn sky. I was vaguely aware of the presence next to me, hidden from my vision, but not my sense of smell.
“Holy shit, I thought you were dead”, said the invisible Carl and he helped me to my feet. My whole body ached and I had several injury related debuffs. Good old Sore as Shit was back, accompanied by its evil twin, Battered and Bruised. Many of the debuffs would eventually disappear over time, but most required me to rest.
“Remind me never to never do this again”, I told Carl as I let him support my weight while I steadied myself. When he let go I could see his outline from the slime I had transferred to his arm. I myself was covered head to foot.
“What the hell did you hit the slug with?” I tried to wipe the slime off my face but my hands and sleeves were also covered. I only managed to smear it around.
“My Daughter’s Kiss ability. Sorry about that. It can be pretty powerful”
“What happened to going after Quan”, I tried to spit the sweet tasting gore out my mouth. I was pretty sure I had swallowed some of it along with the potion.
“He disappeared soon after you started a card battle. He couldn’t have used his cloaking ability so I’m pretty sure he ducked into the club. But, if he was prepare, he could set an invisibility potion outside his inventory. Are you still in card combat?”
“Yeah”, I said, indicating the T’Ghee cards floating above my left hand.
Carl nodded. “Good. This means Quan should still have his spells locked down. I say we destroy the entrance and trap him inside”
“What about his cloak?”
“Too much trouble at this point,” he said, shaking his head.
“I say we head inside and find him. Tight, well-furnished corridors, Velma and I will have the advantage, and I don’t mind wrecking the place to get to him.“ I leaned down, my body slow and stiff, and picked up the handaxe I had dropped. It had bent like a croissant after deflecting the blow from the Sluggalo. It too was drippin with the goo of the late Big Smalls.
I wiped at my mouth and spat again, “why do they taste like Fanta?”
Carl stared at me for a moment, then snorted. “I think it’s Faygo”
I looked at him blankly.
“Uh, Faygo, like the soda. Because they’re Sluggalos. You know, slug Juggalos,” Carl replied.
“Am I supposed to get that reference?”, I said, dryly.
Carl shrugged, “never mind. Just try not to swallow any of it. Could be infectious.”
As if on queued, I received a notification.
Warning: You have been infected with Slug Pox.
“God fucking damnit!”, I snarled, and threw my warped handaxe on the ground, “This is your fault! You just have to say something.” I could feel a boil starting to form on the back of my neck.
Carl grimaced, “I guess we’re going into the club then. We’ll find you a healer inside and look for Quan. If we—”
I stiffened, then turned to kick Carl with all my might, sending him flying. Sure, I was angry with him, but that wasn’t the reason for hitting him. I had just felt the haptic buzz of my Canine Instinct, and had glanced at the map, noticing the blue dot. Before I could plant my foot and move myself, I froze in place, a familiar red light covering me: Quan’s Stasis.
Ren: Carl, lookout! Quan’s here! He can cast his spells. Get out of sight now!
Carl would have only mere seconds left on his invisibility potion before he’d appear and I had the duration of the stasis spell to figure out how to save myself. I could see Quan’s blue dot on the map, right above us, but something was wrong. Even if Quan had managed to cast his flight before card combat started, he had cast a spell. That meant he had to discard his entire hand within the first minute. He would have had to be using a deck of only totems to pull that off in enough time. But I couldn’t see any of his totems on the map.
Further, it still wouldn’t explain how his attack had triggered my Canine Instinct. Only dungeon-generated mobs could trigger the skill.
“Well now, I was certain there were two of you”, Quan said, touching down behind me, just out of sight and continued to speak.“Judging by your interesting position, I’m guessing that you just saved your ally. Those were some good reflexes,” Quan said, addressing me with a voice and tone that felt entirely off. His personality and voice were different. He sounded amicable, instead of sneering and patronizing, and his accent had shifted from Asian to… what? British? Or at least something like it.
“I wonder which one you are”, said Quan, “You aren’t marked, such is a shame. You are not him, and too big to be a cat either.”
Quan walked around me. I couldn’t move my mouth to speak, but managed to growl at him as he came into view—not all that intimidating, I know, but it was the best I could muster given the circumstances.
And that’s when I saw it, Quan's status: Possessed.
I examined him.
Quan Ch. Sergeant at Arms. Level 74. Vessel of Papilio, The Red Admiral.
Something clicked in my brain—The Demon Eviction. It was still ongoing. The dead and dying were subject to random possession, and Quan had been at death’s door because of the Slug Pox. It must have allowed him to get possessed by a demon. The reason he could use his spells and had triggered my Canine Instinct was because it hadn’t been Quan using them. It had been the demon, Papilio.
My mind raced and I sent out an urgent message to Carl and Mordecai..
Ren: It isn’t Quan anymore. He’s possessed by a demon.
Mordecai: Get the hell out of there, now! This isn't your run of the mill demon! You're in real danger!
Ren: Would if I could, Mordecai!
Carl: Hang on Ren, I got a plan.
“Ah, now I know who you are'', said the demon-possessed Quan, interrupting my train of thought, “the slime makes recognition difficult. You're the one that forced my client to strike a deal with me. I have you to thank for my predicament. Daresay my client thought you were dead so you were left out of the contract. As such, I am under no obligation to slay you.”
Contract? What? I wanted to ask him, but my mouth was still frozen shut. But it sounded like I might be able to walk away from this. He wasn't after me.
“But”, the not-Quan pause and turned back to me, “I still have a soul quota to meet”
So much for wishful thinking.
Quan—or Papilio—raised his hand to summon a black energy bolt.
“It’s nothing personal,” he said in a professional manner, “but I have travel fees to pay”.
Just before he fired the spell aimed at me, a metal ball, one of Carl’s Bangersheres, struck him square in the hand, jerking it to the side. The black bolt fired way off course.The spell triggered in the air off to my right, and a ripping, screaming sound erupted as a burning hole of black flame, the size of a backyard swimming pool, tore itself open.
A massive hell portal.
Papilio cursed, holding his broken hand, while Carl, now visible several dozen meters down the street, stood atop a large gravestone, his xistera extended. Rocks, debris, dead slugs, and everything not bolted down was sucked into the portal. I could hear the horrifying screams and smell the sulfurous fumes emanating from the hell portal.
Fear pulsed through me as I realized the only thing holding me in place was Stasis. I frantically looked for something to anchor myself nearby, but I still couldn’t move my head. Then the red light around me faded, and I was pulled towards the burning portal.