Chapter 23
Spirit Caller
June stood and sauntered out of her room, she had more than one goal planned for today. Reaching this new milestone had given her a new morsel to chase after, to devour.
But first, she needed to prepare. A new set of gear being forged was at the top of her list. She had gotten lucky, very lucky, and June knew she couldn’t continue to rely on dumb luck and the element of surprise for too long.
June wondered if Bullin had thought of that, and hoped he had. She had seen some incredible pieces of gear on those players, and she wanted her own little treasures. She wanted to be safe. June was tired of having to constantly walk around in tattered leather. “It’s embarrassing,” she thought.
June stepped into the private forge chamber with purpose, her heart singing with anticipation.
June thought about what she could do to improve the design. A cleaning enchantment sounded nice right about now. The crusty leather had already had patches adorning its surface, but it really wasn’t holding together that well. Fresh holes burned through at various parts, where the material itself sat lifeless, melted, and singed.
With a careful eye, she noted the rivets here and there, the layering of strips to make the whole assembly hold together. The Infusion Oil had hardened during the boiling process, holding the slabs of leather together quite well. “Between the layers could be a good place for runes,” she thought, recalling how Bullin destroyed the rune weeks ago.
June knew she’d need materials, but wondered how Bullin would feel about her rummaging through his stuff. He had been pretty helpful in teaching her, but the image of his massively overpowered character sheet gave her pause. It was a dangerous thought, but she ignored it. Bullin’s rage at Kotor messing with the forge had been hot and terrible, but June figured she could diffuse him. What with showing him a successful crafting endeavor.
As June searched through the various crates, sacks, and other containers in the shop, she gathered a small mountain of different items. It turned out that despite her initial assumption that this place was a nightmare of disorganization, things did kind of make sense. Everything from Infusion Oil to parchment, and basic tools, were found relatively easily. The one thing June lacked was a batch of good quality leather.
June pulled a piece of parchment, noting down various items that she needed. Hands shaking with nervous energy, June also scratched out the steps to her project. The skeleton’s mind ran, she even began sketching out various rough designs for her new leather armor.
With a backpack slung over her bare, boney shoulder, June made a quick trip to the main forge on this level, skulking around for a few needed materials. Higher quality Mana Crystals would have been nice, but she had that stash of Tier 1 crystals that she thought should work. She still needed a few other things, though, so off she went.
----------------------------------------
June strode through the door, past several skeletons and zombies working tirelessly in the light of multiple lit forges. The green and red hues whirled around the room like dancers to a song only they could hear.
The undead crafters around her worked in a flurry of motion. Hammers rose and fell, knives twanged and cried out as they were used to slice leather and other materials being cut to proper sizes. The forging floor was an absolute madhouse. Sneaking around like a mouse, June snooped out the various materials she needed. Buckles, rivets, metal strips, and finally the one thing she’d come in search of: a huge roll of Primal Leather. A large ceramic pot of Infusion Oil was also a clutch discovery.
As she walked back to the private forge with her haul, she lost herself in a maze of thoughts.
Her next problem was a more difficult one, what to inscribe. Sure, runes would do the job fine for basic enchantments, but June desperately wanted to experiment. She felt the push to create. By referring to her various tomes, she discovered a few ideas that might work. The sting of those lightning bolts from her previous combat fresh on her mind, June decided that elemental resistance was a good thing to have. Another option would be mana reservation, or at least an attempt at one. If those jewels can help store mana, maybe I can turn my entire armor set into one big battery. As she flipped through the pages of her books on runes, June noted several runes that might work. She jotted them onto a piece of parchment in an arrangement she felt comfortable with. By mixing Imprison, Arcane and Mind runes, she figured she could create the core of her battery. Time and Focus runes helped form the outer ring, with runes for different metals like gold and iron mixed in, helping to refine and tune the mana flow to a form her magic could make use of.
June moved on to cutting the leather into the sizes and shapes that she needed. Strips to act as buckles, longer strips to brace important areas. Using her original armor as a visual guide, she guessed at lengths, erring on the side of caution, cutting a few larger pieces; the straps and buckles could take care of any cinching that would need to be done.
As June cut each strip, she pictured her previous combat encounters, wincing at her own idiocy. She’d charged recklessly into too many fights. She recalled each feint, failed blow, spell that struck home. With a newly appraising eye, she considered her own technique, how sloppy it was. Should have waited for that opening. Shouldn’t have gone that way. June considered where this new knowledge was coming from.
It’s possible this is what XP is like in this ‘real’ world.
Then came the first of her major failures. The painful infliction of her reincarnation still stung. The frosty air, shadowy memories and gaping maw. It all cut deeply, burrowing into the summoner as she tried to focus. A gut punch of remembrance and fear blossomed within her at the memories; though she didn’t let it stop her progress now, she couldn’t. She wouldn’t let her anxiety morph into a weapon against her, dividing her from her agency. Within the fortified form of her new body, protected by this renewed armor, she would feel like a stone giant.
She began her work carefully, starting with the runes on the inside layers of the armor. June felt the Jovian pressure of a thousand invisible eyes on her as she worked. She knew she was alone, but the nervousness that racked her bones remained in place despite internal attempts to jar it loose.
Rolling the tool back and forth, June found a comfortable spot in her hand, and set to tapping out her desired shapes. Brief pulses of death mana leapt from her finger bones to the tool as she worked, before being sucked into the crevices in the leather—taking root. She watched carefully as each thread slotted into place. June could swear she could almost see the individual threads of mana flow into place, welcomed by its kin with open arms.
As June worked, her pace grew quicker, more insistent. With a light touch, she went through the next process of dipping the tool in powdered mana crystal, before placing each dose into the previously carved formations. Her eyes glinted like orbs of ice as her Mana Vision guided her path.
Each stroke of the hammer onto the tiny metallic tool was precise, as was her mental focus. With each strike, her mana flowed like trickles of water, freezing over the runes as each part of the construction went into place. Tendrils of mana gripped onto the leather, spreading like bluish veins over its surface. Each strike sent a pulse of power through the leather, hardening on its surface before dissipating into tiny bits of arcane power.
Each time June brought the hammer down, she poured her heart into each blow. The anger and resentment at being sent here, against her will, bound itself to her hammer, hanging on like an angry serpent, striking at the runes like a predator to prey. Her hatred marched on like a thousand angry warriors, intent on destroying all opposition. June’s eyes blazed blue with dark, hellish power. Like ancient shadows stirring on a moonlit night, her very being seemed alive with eldritch magic. Brackish death mana flowed out and around her in waves, pulsing in rings across the floor. Her Nexus sang amid the chaos, pulling the spent mana back in, and reconfiguring it to best respond to her emotional state. Like some infernal machine, her magic churned and chewed through its fuel, pouring its energy into June’s work.
With careful strokes and liberal applications of Infusion Oil, June began by binding the larger sheets of leather together, completing the basic form of the chest piece. The stench remained strong as she worked, as the adhesive and magical influences lingered over the chamber like a foggy cloud.
----------------------------------------
The giant metal box used for her previous armor creation was still tucked away in a corner, but she wasn’t quite sure how to go about finishing the project. With some effort, June scooted it across the floor, heaving the empty frame into the barely lit forge. “Damn, that big blue bastard made it look easy,” June thought in frustration.
As she filled the giant box with water, June thought through various issues plaguing her mind. The gibbering nightmares of death mana danced in the edges of her vision. Like fruit flies, the little black specks buzzed at her. She unleashed her hungering Nexus on the little punks, content in the notion that they would be consumed and obliterated from existence, used for her own purposes. She turned that flow of power into fuel, pushing it into the jewel that powered the forge. Angry and hot, the giant red gemstone drank in her magic, pulsing the green flames to renewed life.
June placed the armor form, and all into the box as the water bubbled away. Spitting up at her, the violent reaction took shape. June wondered what to do next, and just winged it. She started feeding portions of both fire and death life force into the box, as runes on its surface began flaring to life. Over the next few minutes, June boiled the armor before plucking it out with a pair of heavy iron tongs, placing it to cool on the table. She was thankful that bones couldn’t get burned by water, as boiling-hot water splashed all over.
June let the form cool, then slogged the armor off with substantial effort. The final missing component was a set of runes on the outside of the armor, designed to focus mana. That simple matter would then allow her to set gemstones for a new glamour.
With a final, booming, hammer blow, June finished the last piece of the runes, a wash of sparks flowed around her in red, blue and black swirls of powerful magic.
Item Gained
Name
Primal Warlock’s Gambeson
A simple pressed gambeson made of magically hardened leather. The special runic formations woven into the armor grant it special bonuses, and new abilities to the caster.
Crafted by June Vallentra
Rarity
Magical
Grade
Normal - Item Level: 35
Affinity
Death
Effect
+50 DEF Rating
+20 MAGIC DEF Rating
“Item Levels, what the hell?” she thought, as she stared blankly at the item window. Thinking quickly, June began going through her gear, finding everything now had item levels where they hadn’t previously. A wash of realization slammed into her, dredging up her last memories before landing in this undead body. With a bitter sense of chance, the patch teaser from Duneria came roaring back to her mind. It had never clicked until now, but of course, patches would have an impact. June considered the possibility, wondering if this was an observable trend in this world. Did they all just become used to it, not noticing it? Did they expect me to do the same? It would seem that her ignorance of game lore might be about to bite her in the ass. If she had known more about the world of the game, she would have felt more secure in her ability to answer her own questions. Instead of uselessly pondering, she returned to her work.
Grabbing the finished armor from the table, June surveyed her work. The leathers were strangely warm, even after cooling, cradling her bones in their embrace. June could almost hear the magic thrum between the leather layers. As she fed her mana into it to test the enchantment, the tendrils slithered towards their runic destinations. The armor pulsed, spreading a strange pressure through her bones. Like something similar to a fresh cup of water on a hot summer’s day, a wave washed over June.
Content in her accomplishment, June moved on. She checked her weapons with a deeper, discerning eye. The most obvious thing that stood out to her showed itself when she appraised her dagger with Mana Vision. Those swirls of mixed mana layered across the blade less like shifting blankets, and more like jagged chunks. Peering deeper, she followed the form of the blade and saw the same issue, but on a tiny scale within the blade. On an almost microscopic level, the metal bonds that made up the piece had the tiniest cracks and imperfections. But to her more advanced eye, they stood out like inflamed pimples.
That would have to wait, she couldn't make a better weapon without help, she thought. Glancing over her planned steps, June grinned internally, her goals were within sight. Next was the re-summoning of her minion, Kotor.
The ritual was long and complicated, involving turning fire mana into a new form. Tapping into her previous experience in rituals, drawing the needed runic configurations was much simpler this time around. She quickly gathered the materials she needed, repeating the ritual from his initial summoning. She was quite proud of her handiwork in recreating these runes. They looked beautiful.
June put her mind to the task, focusing her mana into the ritual, forcing a flow of fire mana into runes, causing them to glow a soft orange. The letters and lines grew angry and hot, spewing heat in waves, in time with the pulsing of their light.
Each pulse of light stopped a few inches away, collecting into a slow and steady spiral. The spiral grew wildly, spreading out into a sphere before filing out into a twisted and angry orb. The orb looked like a marble made of red hot magmatic glass. A slowly pulsating glass orb shimmered and twisted, sprouting tiny tendrils of gold and orange. June saw her reflection twist within the light of the sphere, turning to a twisted rendition of her skull.
Rolling waters of fire boiled off of the growing ember, breaking down to ash as they fell to the floor. Heat boiled the air, causing a heat shimmer to flood June’s vision.
As her Nexus worked to churn magic into its fire form, the glass ball sucked in it just as quickly. After several minutes, the infernal orb cracked, shattering into millions of tiny, star-like pieces.
And within the ember that formed at the base of the falling stars, a tiny imp popped his head out. Kotor shook his head off like a wet dog, the tiny imp quickly looked around before cracking a big fiery smile. “Boney!” he shouted in a shrill tone, before eagerly hopping his way out of the rapidly cooling pile of embers.
“Welcome back, little buddy!” June said, matching the Imp’s excitement.
The two shared a tender moment, smiling and content to be back in each other’s presence.
“It’s been a bit, has it?” Kotor paused, his smile dropping to a burning frown. “Since you went to sleep.”
Sleep? Is that what he thinks happened? Is he really just a child?
Unsure how to process what Kotor had said, June rolled with it, asking an indirect question. “What was it like for you?” June asked, genuinely curious.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“It was a good nap,” Kotor muttered, stretching his ember-orange body. “I got very tired after triggering my ability.” Kotor finished in a flat tone.
“You have an ability?” she asked, curious if she could learn more about how the imp worked in this real-world setting.
“I do, and you do too, right, Boney?”
June thought about it, and come to think of it, she hadn’t learned everything about her class, at least compared to the class from Duneria Online. Sure, she had a more open path to new spells, rather than them being completely class-locked. Abilities had been something she was conspicuously lacking. Class abilities in Duneria Online had been a big part of making your build work. Summoners had various summons they could use, both temporary and permanent. And aside from the Imp, June had gained none.
“I really need to get more skill gems,” she thought, before rushing over and rummaging through her newly acquired books. She searched for any mention she could find of either Called Spirits or Bound Spirits. These were the two terms that the MMO version of the game used.
Even the tome that included various skill descriptions didn’t include any info on it. June decided it was time for an adventure to the library. “Come on, bud, we’re going to the library.” And off they set.
----------------------------------------
As the pair wandered through the doors to the library, June-didn’t see Mukkrag. After a few seconds of perusing the shelves, the giant skeleton rounded the corner.
“Welcome, June, what brings you to my wondrous domain this day?”
“I have a question, well several actually. For starters, do you know anything about Called Spirits, or Bound Sprits?” June asked, taking a direct approach, feeling driven to avoid the cryptic nonsense.
A glint formed in the golden eyes of the undead and they responded with glee, “There are a voluminous number of texts on the subject, as I am assuming you are referring to the Summoner ability?”
June nodded her affirmation.
“I must say, I am rather impressed by your ambitious research efforts,” called the larger undead from deeper within the library stacks. Their voice boomed, deep and commanding. “Though I am loath to admit, you will likely need assistance with learning this ability.”
“Is that because of me not having a Skill Gem?”
“Yes, and no, the Skill Gem accelerates the acquisition of knowledge. You can learn it simply with a bit of guidance.”
June and Mukkrag spent several hours talking through using Called Spirits. The core idea was that June needed to focus on creating a simple image, and then projecting that image through her mana.
The idea that she wasn’t just given her class abilities right away was rather annoying. I guess Duneria is much more open-minded about making builds.
June continued to practice forming a simple recreation of Kotor, thinking a smaller image would be easier to create.
“You want to make a copy of lil’ old me?” Kotor seemed extremely excited at the prospect.
“Just hold still, I need a clear image in my head of every detail,” she told him through a mental command. He froze like a statue, but not without a small smirk crossing his fiery lips.
June captured the image of the imp in her mind like it was going into a scrapbook. The fiery embers slowly formed out of her mana. Like raindrops on a hot surface, each drip of mana sizzled as it landed on the table before her, turning to steam and forming into a small, ghostly ball. June kept the image in her mind of the imp, trying to form the smoke into a form that could be used. Though despite her best efforts, the form ended up being malformed and almost entirely useless. The Spirit version of Kotor was too thin in the arms, but also too fat in the legs. Its head was also much rounder than Kotor’s own. It reminded June of a lawn gnome, in a way.
Kotor chuckled when he inspected it. Mukkrag was a lot more appreciative, even though June saw her attempt as a warped failure.
“You have done quite well, congratulations,” Mukkrag said as he seemed genuinely pleased, judging from their jovial tone.
Hopefully, this guy doesn’t tell Varren or Bullin about this.
The conversation turned to new topics as Mukkrag asked more questions. They began asking about various topics, June knew right away that they were probing for details on her magic capability.
“Tell me, do you ever have visions? Dreams of something you cannot explain?” Mukkrag asked, “If what I see in you is true, and I suspect it is, then you have a great destiny before you.”
For a moment, June considered what to say, what secrets to reveal. She could tell that Mukkrag wasn’t on her side, not really. Or was that her anxiety talking? Friends had forsaken her before, and she’d never had the chance to get redemption or revenge. These people were her puppet masters, and she hated them for it. But most of all, she hated the lack of knowing and understanding they’d cursed her with. June had always found comfort in the mind's adventures. Be they through art or books, June hunted for something that would let her escape. Now, she would have to work to escape a new prison, and she suspected that someone in these tombs held her keys. I just need to keep everyone else in the dark while I find the keys, she thought.
“I’ve seen things, but a lot of it never makes any sense.” Mukkrag seemed to lean forward just a hair as June spoke. “Death, fire and so much more. All of it feels way too real. I’ve seen one thing that really creeps me out, though.” A forceful shiver ran through June’s bones, though she fought to not let the anxiety show.
June fought through the anxiousness to tell the tale of her experiences in her core. She eagerly shared glimpses into the visions of that eerie forest and the burned dragon rider. June also gave Mukkrag as grandiose a tale as possible about the elemental arena within her core. As she sang her proverbial song of fantasy and magic, her voice rose higher, her cadence grew more frantic. With every detail of how mana had felt alive to her, her excitement built further.
Mukkrag stood stoic, listening intently, as June explained the sights and wonders she’d seen. Occasionally, he would nod along with her retellings, showing his interest. But as the minutes dragged on, his posture sagged. Instead of the gilded, walking nightmare of bones, he gave of the impression of a dusty corpse, sleeping forever under a shroud. But the undead rose to life with a simple question, interrupting her spiels about fire and earth magic.
“Do tell, what visions of death have you seen?” asked Mukkrag, his tone soft and coaxing.
The image of a rotted arm and a cloth-covered face barged into her mind, and June paused to collect herself, steeling her resolve through indignation against whatever dark destiny had been laid out before her. “I don’t know who or what it is, but I do know I hate it.” June took to a seat at one of the large wooden tables, resting her skull in her hands as she talked. June described the vision of death itself, risen like a sack of ashen bones from a charnel pit. The rotting skin, the worms and bugs, all the horrors she’d seen. And she didn’t stop there, with her recounting of the sounds and smells, Mukkrag held up a solemn hand.
“That’s quite enough,” he said, silencing her grandiose tale.
The idea of even this massively powerful undead giving up on hearing the gory details terrified and excited June in equal measure. *If she had managed to overcome it, mostly, maybe she had some grand destiny? Maybe she was stronger than she was willing to let on? June couldn’t escape the sense of creepiness that welled within her in that moment, though.
“Is that too much for you, really?” June pressed, trying to punctuate her question with a slightly jovial tone.
A deep chuckle ripped itself out of the mouth of the undead giant, and he spoke amid gasps of laughter, “Quite the opposite, I’m happy that you were so capable in communing with death.”
The idea that Mukkrag was happy at hearing such horrors made June uneasy. What the hell is wrong with these freaks, do they just really love death?
“I have experienced my own visions, though, they were not as you say. My communion with death was more a voluntary thing.” The Tome Lord spoke in a near-cheery tone, betraying that he felt much more happy about his interactions with the aspects of death mana than June did. Perhaps he was correct, perhaps something his knowledge gave him some insight she didn’t have.
“So you came to this place,” she said as she gestured wildly to the library around them, “because you just love death so much?”
A chuckle escaped the Lord, sounding more like a cough, “I died a long time ago, and I was a very studious person in life. It seemed wasteful to give it all up in a world as splendid as this.”
June did agree that the pursuit of knowledge and embracing one’s curiosity was a beautiful thing. She just wasn’t so sure that it made sense to die to fully embrace it.
“I died once already, and I made it out, relatively fine,” June thought, repressing the horrifying vision she’d seen in her reincarnation. Maybe there was something to being in a world of magic and exploration that she couldn’t quite understand yet.
She couldn’t shake the lack of understanding clinging to the back of her mind. With a world of magic, all that splendor held both terrible truths and wonderful lies. “How do you know your visions are true? I’ve heard this little speech about destiny multiple times since I got here, and I have trouble believing it.” June drummed her hands against the table’s surface, trying to dispel the tension from her bones.
The Tome Lord’s response came slowly, as if he was considering his words carefully. His tones drawled out from his large skull, “Because, I have studied the annals, and there are travelers who have come before. Walked the same roads that you and I walk now. They tread upon worlds unknown, searching for the great mysteries of life and beyond.”
Without warning, the Tome Lord stood and sauntered off into the stacks. June sat there in shock for a few seconds, until the head of the gilded undead popped back up, standing tall over one of the stacks. “Jesus christ, don’t do that,” she thought as the Tome Lord slowly appeared, like a worm slithering out of the ground. With a simple invitation, Mukkrag beckoned June to follow. As June walked the forest of wood, leather and paper, colors and words spun beneath her fingers. Letters of faded gold and embroidered silver adorned hundreds of books and tomes, bearing titles like ‘Songs of Strife’ and ‘The Red Death’. There were too many to count, and they just kept going. Like an unending tide, the shelves formed a taunting horizon. June’s mind swam with the possibility of reading them, her inner bookworm showing itself for the first time in this new body. But her focus and need for new magics won the battle between the two. She needed to know what she’d been missing.
As the pair walked, June listened to Mukkrag ramble on. He spoke about many things, from the weapons of legend, to vague murmurings about the mysteries of magic. June stopped listening after a while. She was too engrossed in what his hands were grabbing. With ease, he grabbed a variety of books from different shelves. The pair twisted through the maze of shelves, grabbing nearly a dozen works before returning with haste to the entrance, June buzzing with excitement. Mukkrag placed the titles on a table, instructing June to read and learn from them. When she had more questions, she was to return to him.
June looked through the various tomes arrayed before her, trying to memorize the titles, deciding which one felt the most important to her. One stood out to her, even though it was a simple brown affair.
A Tale of Rainbows and Shadow, A History of the Great Eastern Empires
The title alone jumped at her, she loved mystical and poetic turns like that. Eager, she snapped it up and added it to her growing pile. But there were so many tomes that June didn’t know which one to grab first. It was Mukkrag who broke her considerations.
“I must say, your recent efforts worked out rather well, considering you performed the task on your own.” He stopped to file through some of the books on the table, before selecting a thin tomb, bound in black leather. “You may find this helpful in improving from beyond your rudimentary state.”
Gee, thanks for the mild condescension.
The 100, Tales of Legend, was emblazoned on the cover in faded gold lettering.
“That particular tome will describe the legendary tools of this world’s greatest adventurers. I suggest you study it, learn from it.”
That prospect alone was enough to convince June to rush off like a child at Christmas, wanting to play with their new toy. June crammed the dozen or so books into her pack, before blitzing towards her room, but not before muttering a thank you to Mukkrag, who bowed deeply.
The next several days were spent doing just that, with the occasional break to let Kotor stretch his legs up on the surface. After she had spent at least an entire day trying to put the forge room back into the order Bullin had left it.
----------------------------------------
Several days later, her quiet study was interrupted. While June was busy reading one of the many tomes she’d collected, a knock came on her door. Heavy and loud, she didn’t have to open the door to know who it was.
The form of the dwarf was encased in something different from his usually nondescript leather apron. The meat of his frame was packed into a set of glittering leather armor, positively soaked in runes and magical energy. Even without Mana Vision, June could see the crackle of mana and enchanted energy on the armor’s surface. Great pauldrons hung over his shoulders, offering a bit more protection.
“You’re looking different. Did you get a haircut,” June joked, hoping to lighten Bullin’s mood. The fact that she had trashed his forge making some new armor still remained fresh in her mind, and she really didn’t want to anger the massive smith.
He was all smiles as he spoke, “Get up, grab your gear, we’re leaving.”
What, no hello, how was your vacation? I brought you a present?
The skeleton quickly threw her armor, weapons and pack on, lacing and cinching them as she ran after Bullin. June followed behind the armored dwarf as he blazed through the forge, not even remarking on her new armor.
“You seem awfully cheery for someone in such a rush,” she said as she caught and cinched her sword sheath tight.
He stopped cold and turned to face June, who promptly walked right into his massive back.
Oof...
“That’s because we’re headed somewhere important, and we’re on a deadline. We’re preparing for your first mission.”
Finally.
“So, what’s the first step?” June asked, wondering why Bullin had a pack and stood proud, suited up from head to toe.
“We’re going on your first trial run,” Bullin said, as the pair took a trip up to the surface via the teleporter network.
Bullin and June set out from the mouth of the Tombs, a path June had taken many times. Its look was still the same sodden mix of loose stones and earth leading down a dusty stairway. After a couple hours’ march, the pair arrived at a sunken hole in the earth, mud the color of rust and blood mixed around it, smearing over the ruins about the hole. The water bubbled up through the earth, like a heartbeat pulsing from the earth itself.
“How did you find this place?” June asked, looking at the damp stone around them, black and seemingly sweating entire buckets of water. Drips and drops accented her every word.
“Some kobolds found it, and I sent them in ahead of you.” His eyes betrayed his unsaid point. A sinister gleam filled his eyes, shining like fire burning its way through someone’s childhood home. But June would soon learn what he had wanted to say firsthand.
“I’m assuming you’ve already run it?” June blurted out without thinking.
“Yes, I did. I will remain on the first floor to guard the entrance, and give ya the time to need to test ya mettle. That means we also get to see how well you lead a team.”
Lost Crypt of the Swamp Lord
Level 15 - Wild Dungeon
Reward: ???
The entrance was a small hole in some stone ruins, leading straight down another set of dusty stairs. Bullin pulled and struck a torch, before heading down in the lead. With trepidation, June followed Bullin down the stairs. As she reached the bottom, torchlight spilled out, lighting the open chamber in a soft orange glow. Inside the now cramped chamber was a trio of undead that were complete strangers.
You didn’t say anything about me having help. June was a bit relieved at not having to take on the Dungeon alone.
The trio of various undead were all geared in simple leather armor of various colors. June scanned each one with her Mana Vision as she glanced over their gear.
A level 15 Priest and level 15 Mage had the most well-made gear, although still fairly weak. Their armor was a basic dark leather piece, with no noticeable magical enchantments. The one difference is that the Priest bore a huge mace at their side, one positively dripping with the black ichor of death mana, a silvery shade of brutality. In fact, their whole person, from rotten head to toe, was oozing the stuff. The shadows hung off their frame like a thick cloak. The Priest was called Umago.
Another notable thing about them, aside from gear, was their eyes. Each of the undead had the same color of dim, barely lit orbs. June didn’t see emotion in their eyes, just pure nothingness. The lit embers glowed a soft white, something June hadn’t seen in any other undead so far.
June couldn’t believe it. These were the highest level undead she’d seen since coming here, other than the Lords, and they were weaker than her. Really? I’m the only one out of that crop of undead that’s gotten this far? Is everyone here just weaker than me?
The lowest level of the three was the Warrior. A skeleton bearing simple leather armor and a basic round shield. When June asked his name, it surprised her that he even responded. “Marrak,” he choked out in a gravelly voice.
The Mage wore similar-looking items, dark leather wrapped around their forms with basic straps holding it in place. June’s Mana Vision revealed no latent magic on its surface. A small black-steel short sword hung at their side—their name was Allaran.
Every question asked of them, like where they came from, was met with either no response or a single word. June could only gather that they were denizens of the Tombs, and had to guess at their origins. Luckily, she didn’t need them to be chatty; they just needed to know how to follow her directions and swing a weapon.
The party spent quite a bit of time in a phase of preparation. June distributed her scrolls to the mage, with instructions to keep in the back and focus on healing. “The warrior and Priest will handle the frontline as best they can.” June hoped her level advantage would make up for her lesser ability to tank. Having Kotor back to help manage aggro would be a blessing as well. With a mental command, she told Kotor to stick by and guard her and the mage. June also took the time to pump mana into her armor, hoping it would hold charge, and then poured her last Mana Distillation to top back up. With one last check of their gear, the group descended deeper into the dungeon.
Name
June Vallentra
Race
Undead (Skeleton)
Magical Offense Defense Crafting
Arcane Prowess Tier 3
Death Magic Tier 2
Fire Magic Tier 1
Arcane Knowledge Tier 1
One-Handed Weapons Tier 2
Combat Prowess Tier 1
Physical Resistance Tier 1
Magic Resistance Tier 1
Runic Mastery Tier 1
Spell Crafting Tier 1
Smithing Tier 1 Level: Total: 20 (Summoner Tier 1) Class Points: 0 Attribute Points: 0
Magic Affinities Combat Affinities
Death Magic (Racial)
Class Abilities Equipment Abilities Called Spirit
Eldritch Battery
Strength
Endurance
Agility
18
30
30
Willpower
Intelligence
28
35
Passive Perks
Active Perks
Mana Vision
Tongues
Fire Imp Companion