Ocean Mob

Amkati

Girhuma Fisher

Level 15

Owin slowly stalked forward. He had already passed the central passage that held the snail Ernie was worried about. With a quick glance, he didn’t spot any snail, but most of his attention was elsewhere.

The girhuma boss kicked some sand as he stood near the stairs to the next floor. He was taller than Ernie and Katalin, but shorter than most of the humans Owin had met. He hadn’t seen a girhuma before.

They were ugly.

Amkati had thin pointed ears that stayed much closer to the head than Owin’s long ears. He had curly hair that didn’t drift far in the water and huge gills on his wide neck. His eyes were overly massive for his face and blinked with two different eyelids that closed in different directions. His skin was somewhere between blue and green and dotted with tiny yellow speckles.

Amkati held a fishing pole and waved it idly, letting the hook swing in the water. His massive blue eyes watched Owin approach.

Owin looked back at Ernie and Katalin. Ernie nodded. Katalin leaned on the Thunderstrike Maul’s handle and fiddled with a pipe bomb again.

“Fish?” Amkati asked.

Owin turned around. The girhuma had closed about half the distance in an instant. He held the fishing pole with both hands.

“No,” Owin said.

Amkati’s eyes narrowed. “Fish?” he repeated.

“I don’t have any fish.”

Amkati kicked up a huge cloud of sand as he dashed. Owin’s breath caught at the sudden, incredibly quick charge. He ducked, barely dodging the girhuma’s webbed foot. Owin turned, ready to leap and stab, as the fishing pole’s hook caught his ear.

It pierced the skin without issue and pulled Owin off the ground. Amkati spun in the air and yanked the fishing pole. Owin felt water rush around him as he was launched straight at Amkati’s fist.

Owin’s cheek cracked as the fist smashed into him, launching his limp body right back into the sand. Hitting the sand felt no different than hitting a stone wall. Bubbles escaped Owin’s lips, followed by a mist of blood into the water.

He rolled to the side, but Amkati pushed off the water using his finned feet and caught Owin with a follow up punch to the forehead. This time, Owin’s feet came up while his head went into the sand. A clawed, finned hand grabbed his foot and threw him straight into the air.

Owin took a deep breath as the coral reef spun all around him. He slowed high above the coral reef. Owin grinned. There was no risk of dying from falling. Amkati was already swimming toward Owin, who slowly drifted back toward the ground.

While he wouldn’t admit it to Ernie, Owin had been too confident while approaching Amkati. The wandering bosses of the Ocean Dungeon were obviously stronger than Owin had expected. Luckily, Owin wasn’t so weak as to be intimidated by an ugly fish man.

Smoke Cloud burst from Owin’s hand. The dark smoke immediately spread out just like it did normally, not inhibited by the water. Owin couldn’t swim, but no heroes could within the Ocean Dungeon. Being in the water still had its advantages. He maneuvered the best he could out of the way, pushing himself to the side.

If he could dodge and force Amkati up, he could find a way to get a clean hit on the fish man. At level 15, Amkati would likely die from one or two solid hits. Owin had killed stronger mobs in single hits before.

Owin shoved his hands out, pushing himself back a little more just as Amkati flew upward through the smoke, moving the water with enough force that it cleared the view. The fishing hook flashed as it passed right by Owin’s face. Amkati spun himself around. His blue eyes locked onto Owin.

Amkati could swim and turn so quickly that he easily had the advantage in the air. . . or water. But overconfidence got people killed. Owin had started too confident and took a strong hit to the face.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Artivan never went into a fight with confidence that he would win. He went in with a plan on how to do his best and who to eliminate first. He avoided fights he thought would be too dangerous and fought defensively.

Owin couldn’t adopt all of those things. He had no shield or abilities that helped with defense, but he was quick and agile. Artivan had encouraged him to use those things to his advantage, but some of it was only starting to make sense to Owin.

He shoved his stone knife into his belt and adjusted his grip on Naxile’s curved knife. Amkati kept doing the same thing. It was predictable and exploitable.

Amkati kicked, launching himself like an arrow straight at Owin. The girhuma slipped quickly through the water. Owin swung with the knife and caught Amkati’s arm, easily ripping through his skin.

Owin quickly spun back around and reached for the fishing line. His fingertips brushed against it for the briefest moment before his low dexterity caused him to fumble and let go. The hook swung down and stabbed into the back of his hand, latching itself between the bones. Owin squeezed his hand shut, wincing at the pain and prepared himself for the pull.

Amkati hit the sand below, turned, and yanked the fishing pole down. Owin squeezed onto the hook and line, ensuring it wouldn’t be ripped out, and let himself be pulled toward the sand.

Nothing was going as planned, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t work. Owin watched Amkati square up and prepare for another devastating punch. Owin dropped the knife and squeezed his hand into a fist.

Uncertainty flickered in Amkati’s eyes as he planted his feet and punched up, ready to catch Owin in the jaw. At the same time, Owin yanked his left hand up, pulling on the hook and fishing pole, while he threw his speed and strength into a punch.

His fist collided with Amkati’s for a blink before everything was red.

Owin crashed into the sand, taking a few small points of damage. He squeezed his eyes shut, blindly dug the hook out of his hand, and rolled away. Thick blood coated his face, only slowly washing off with each movement. Owin shook his head violently, throwing blood all through the water.

Amkati remained standing, staggering, with a cloud of blood where his arm had once been. His eyes were wide and his mouth agape.

Owin dashed across the sand, jumped, and kicked the girhuma directly on his nose. Bones snapped as Amkati went limp and sank to the sand.

“Well, alright.” Ernie held out Naxile’s knife. “Consider me impressed.”

“That was chaotic,” Katalin said.

Owin grabbed the knife and stuck it back in his belt. “That wasn’t exactly what I tried to do.”

“Need a health potion?” Katalin asked.

Owin shook his head, stopping her before she reached into her bag. His hand bled a little, and the bite on his arm still leaked into the water. Bleeding ticked down his health slowly, but not enough for him to really care.

“Have you ever considered wearing actual armor?” Ernie asked.

“I haven’t found any to wear.”

Katalin nodded at the corpse of Amkati. “He normally has some good loot. Go check.”

Amkati floated just off the sand. Most of the water around him was filled with blood, making the whole area taste like metal. Owin pushed the corpse away with his foot, causing a brown piece of cloth to fall out and slowly sink to the sand.

“It’s just a piece of cloth,” Owin said.

Katalin’s index covered her eyes as she approached. “Eh, check again.”

Owin snatched the strip of cloth from the sand and held it in an area of clean water.

Band of Power 1

Apprentice Magical Item

While inside the dungeons of Verdantallis, the Band of Power 1 grants its hero with one extra use of a Power 1 spell once per floor. When wearing the Band of Power 1, the first spell at Power 1 used by the hero on each floor will not consume mana.

Note: Magical item effects vary by user

“That isn’t as good as I was hoping,” Owin said.

“Here.” Katalin took the band and tied it around Owin’s forehead, placing it just above his ears.

“It isn’t armor, but extra spells have to be good for a wizard,” Ernie said.

“I—”

“Wizards don’t punch mob’s arms off,” Katalin interrupted.

“I’m not a good wizard,” Owin said.

“We noticed.” Katalin walked toward the stairs. “Time to hop down?”

Owin immediately ran over to grab his hammer. He hefted it off the sand and stopped at the space leading to the snail’s canyon. “Does the snail have good loot?”

“Not worth it,” Ernie said. “At this point, Akos and the heroes will be passing through. Seeing Amkati’s corpse might slow them to wait for a respawn, but I’d rather not wait around to find out. Remember, we’re here only for the gilled mushrooms on the fourth floor. Anything you want to explore, you can do it on your own in the future.”

A huge mound moved between moss-covered rocks. Owin watched the mob from a distance. It was slow, but Ernie wouldn’t warn against it if he wasn’t actually concerned. He had let the gnarled moray leap at Owin and he was happy enough to watch the fight against Amkati.

“The snail is that dangerous?”

“Yes. Let’s go.”

Katalin waited at the top of the small staircase. It had two turns as it led into a pit. Somehow, the sand didn’t spill inside. Owin hurried over in time to see Katalin disappear into the hazy black doorway at the bottom.

Ernie went slowly down as he waved Owin on. “Don’t lag behind.” He disappeared as soon as his foot touched the doorway.

After seeing Siora when he waited to pass to the fourth floor back in the Great Forest, Owin had no intention of falling behind. If other heroes were going to attack him, he wanted the alchemists to back him up. Owin hopped down, not even using the stairs, and immediately passed through the door.