We caught up to the rushers of the group and halted where they had. “What’s wrong?” I asked the question as nothing in sight explained their abrupt stop.
Wolfgang pointed to the sky. A massive Raventaur with black skin and a black beak hovered many yards above the canopy. His wings barely flapped. They stayed outstretched, blotting the sun. He was as large and imposing as the Sun-Touched. “This must be Brinson,” Hendrix said.
“That’s him,” Wolfgang said.
“This guy hits hard,” Manalolz said. “Think you can take less than half your health per hit?”
Wolfgang ignored him and turned to where Hendrix and I were standing. “Do you have magnetism yet?” He watched me, waiting for an answer. He shifted his attention to Hendrix when none came. “Does he have magnetism yet?”
“No,” the bard said. “We’re still level nine.”
Wolfgang cursed. “That would be useful right now.” He thought in silence for a moment. “Alright. Once he gets to about half health, he performs an attack where he—“
“Who cares,” Manalolz said, sprinting forward. “We’ll figure it out as we go. It’s not that hard. Go, go.” He dashed forward until Brinson noticed him.
“Fools!” Brinson shouted from the sky. “Dark Talon has fallen. There’s nothing you puny adventurers can do about it. The Dark Lady will reign over this world!” He descended toward the canopy at a creeping pace.
“Nice job,” Wolfgang said sarcastically to Manalolz.
“Thanks,” the healer replied, knowing full well the comment wasn’t genuine.
“Since I don’t have as much time to explain as I’d like,” Wolfgang said to the rest of the group, “Don’t stand in stuff. Run away from nova.”
I didn’t understand any of that, especially the nova comment. I scowled at the healer, who was already busy crafting his heals. I hoped Hendrix wasn’t thinking of inviting the rude medic to our guild when the dungeon was over. Not that Manalolz gave any indication that he’d ever accept such an offer, but you never know. Regardless, it was up to me as guild master to be assertive and to refuse him if such a time ever came.
“Now you will pay for defying Kaloriann!” Brinson shouted as Wolfgang — now in sheep form — charged into him.
I dashed toward the fight alongside Nikk and the two pets. All were faster than me. Buttons got there first, then Scallion, then Nikk. I followed quite a while after. The boss had a few arrows planted in his bare chest already by the time I got there.
I struck the boss with my wrench. I had an entire fight before to get used to it, but it was still strange hacking and slashing at an opponent who didn’t even seem to know I was there. I wasn’t complaining, though. I whacked at the boss’ knees with everything I had. White numbers left his battered body like steam as six separate sources dealt a steady stream of damage to him. I couldn’t even tell which damage was mine. It didn’t matter. I just had to keep it going, and he’d eventually fall. If this were all a boss had to offer, the trip to forty would be a breeze.
“Only I know the secrets of the trees,” Brinson said.
“Careful!” Hendrix called while plucking his lute.
The boss outstretched his arms and wings so that they made the shape of a tilted cross. He glowed red but continued to take damage from our barrage. Nikk, the pets, and I continued striking, but Wolfgang trotted a few steps back. I couldn’t tell why, but I followed him anyway. The Drakkon may have been a sheep and nothing close to whatever sort of tank he was in his prime, but his mind still held vast knowledge and experience.
Just as I left my station, the green canopy where I’d been standing turned red hot, almost molten. A red spot opened beneath the pets, and they took intense damage. They wailed and whimpered through the pain but kept delivering damage to the boss. Another spot appeared where Nikk was standing. The toadkin must’ve seen it at the last second, or felt the heat, as he hopped and flipped away, landing on a safe, green leaf.
“There’ll be more,” Wolfgang said in his sheep form. “They open up beneath any member of the party at random.” He looked to the ranged members of the party. “That means you, too.”
Hendrix continued plucking, but now his wide eyes were fixed on the leaves at his feet. Manalolz had stopped mixing herbs and adopted a strategy of running continuously. Max showed no worry. His narrowed eyes fixed on the boss. His stream of precise arrows remained unbroken.
The canopy at my feet heated up. I didn’t need to look down to know what was about to happen. I ran. I looked back. A patch of red burned where I’d been standing. The party scurried around in unorganized patterns trying desperately to avoid Brinson’s molten circles.
“Don’t run around too much,” Wolfgang shouted orders to the group, but everyone was too busy avoiding molten circles to listen. “Run around too much, and the entire area will be full of circles!”
I was the only one who listened. Max ignored the tank, but the ranger hadn’t moved since the circles started. I kept my attention on my own feet and moved as little as I had to. A few minutes into the circles, I began to see what Wolfgang had been warning about. Around me was a thick blotch of red. Each circle had appeared directly beside the last. Everywhere else on the field was littered with unorganized circles making it difficult to avoid the next one without running into a previous patch.
“The Dark Lady’s mist will cover the world!” Brinson’s cry echoed, the last three words shrill like the cawing of a crow.
“He’s done with the circles,” Wolfgang said. “Charge!”
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The canopy was still riddled with molten circles. I looked to Brinson. His arms and wings were down—already striking Scallion, who hadn’t left the boss’ side during the circles. The pets slouched with barely any HP left. I glared at Manalolz, but the healer mixed herbs in his mortar and pestle with eyes locked on the tank.
Max launched arrows, and Nikk was back thrusting his spear at the boss. I winced when I noticed Nikk’s HP hovering at around twenty-five percent. The flaming circles must’ve gotten him a few times. I looked back at the healer waiting for him to notice what I had, but his eyes fixed on Wolfgang. “We’ve got pets, and a ranger who need heals, too,” I called to him.
Manalolz laughed. “I don’t heal noobs who stand in the fire.”
“Billington, we need your damage here,” Wolfgang shouted as his sheep form struggled to keep aggro against Nikk’s tenacious green wolf.
I charged in and continued with my mindless wrench bashing. I threw my beads at Brinson’s talons. I’d forgotten about them in the heat of battle, something I’d sworn to stop doing. It didn’t matter. The boss was immune to my beads, as sure-footed as one without feet could be.
“The Dark Lady will rule this land!” Brinson shouted. He pulled two chains seemingly from nowhere and whipped them both at Scallion. The green wolf whimpered and fell over, dead.
Nikk wailed in his gurgling toadkin voice, flipped over the boss, and thrust his spear with renewed vigor into Brinson’s spine. The boss didn’t seem to notice. His attention was now fixed solely on Wolfgang.
“My God, why do you take so much damage?” Manalolz cried as he blew powders onto the battling sheep with the exhale of every second breath.
Wolfgang ignored him and concentrated on his role.
I felt useless standing there bashing with my wrench like some witless gnoll. I looked around, never taking my eyes off the boss for too long, searching for something in the environment I could use to my advantage. There was nothing but an endless field of dark green leaves, a trail of torches, and the sky above. The torches! I could’ve used them to burn the leaves at the boss’ feet. See how he liked fires ignited beneath him, but it was too risky. Not only did we share the same ground, but the boss could fly.
An arrow whistled past my face. I flinched to avoid it as it thudded into Brinson’s ribcage with the other few dozen. The torches might work after all. “Hold tight.” I left the melee and dashed to the nearest torch.
“What are you doing?” Hendrix called in song.
I ignored him. Explaining would only waste more time. I plucked the torch from the oddly thick leaf it had been planted in and ran it over to max’s post. I held the flame against his knocked arrow until the tip ignited. The elf smirked, nodded, and released.
The boss wailed in pain. The arrow alone had done about two percent of his full HP. I planted the torch, and Max dipped each new arrow in the fire before shooting. There had to be more I could do. I returned to the fight and resumed my mindless bashing. It didn’t do much, but it was better than nothing while I pondered my next move.
I watched his talons, wondering if I was simply missing something as to why my beads were useless against him. An idea struck me. It had nothing to do with the beads, but it might’ve been even better. Ever since we’d first laid foot on the strange leafy canopy in Dark Talon forest, I’d been strangely intrigued by it. It didn’t seem to make sense to me. Something about it called for deep thoughts and contemplation, or perhaps, it simply called for a good pummeling.
I crouched, caught a good glimpse of Scallion’s limp face, his pale tongue hanging from his bloodied maw. I grimaced and bashed the leafy canopy with my wrench multiple times.
“You’re missing the boss, buddy,” Hendrix sang.
I was insulted that the bard thought such blatant incompetence possible out of me, but I ignored it. I continued smashing the rock-hard foliage until it finally gave way beneath my blows. The large leaf at the boss’ feet crumbled like weak stone, and his black talon dropped through. Brinson fell into the hole up to his hips. One leg stayed outstretched above the surface of the canopy. He sat motionless. Perhaps in shock.
“He’s stunned!” Wolfgang shouted. “Attack with everything you have!”
Max increased the frequency of his shots and aimed each for the motionless head. Some glanced off the hard beak, but most planted into flesh. Buttons clawed and gnawed as she’d been doing from the start. Nikk delivered hundreds of savage thrusts into the boss’ nape, turning the black flesh of his neck into a sort of mush. I pummeled the top of his skull repeatedly while Wolfgang alternated between biting his exposed thigh, just above the bony area where the talons began and head-butting his gut.
The damage flowed from the boss’ body like an inverted hailstorm. It wasn’t long before his HP reached zero. “The Dark Lady knows your names. Do not think this will go unpunished!” Chains erupted from within the canopy, like angry snakes. They wrapped around each living party member, rendering us immobile. Brinson flapped his battered wings and pulled himself from the hole I’d made for him. He looked us over one last time and flew away, following the path of torches. We’d see him again.
A small crate fell from the boss as he flew away. It landed not far from us. The chains released us. Hendrix cheered. “We did it, buddy.” He wrapped an arm around me. I didn’t know how he’d gotten to me so fast. “Our first real dungeon boss. Doesn’t it feel good?”
Wolfgang had already reverted to his human form. He was sweaty and out of breath. “Eat some food. Revive that wolf. We’ve still got a lot of work to do. This was just the first boss. We’ve got two more to take care of. They only get harder from here.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. Manalolz dashed to the crate that had dropped from the boss. “Yes!” His voice echoed through the open sky. “I was hoping this would drop.” The healer reached into the crate, pulled a mess of cloth from it, and donned a pink robe.
“Is that all the crate had to offer?” Max asked.
“Yup,” Manalolz said. “All mine. Alright, let’s go to the next part. Come on.”
Even Nikk grunted at the healer’s hastiness. The toadkin crouched beside his fallen wolf, pulled something from his pocket, and began the strange ritual of reviving a pet.
“Too bad,” Hendrix said. “You and I could’ve really used some new gear. I know I’ve got this hat, but that dropped when I was level three. At least I got these pants. But now this clown comes in here and gets a damn good robe.” He chuckled. “The man looks ridiculous in it at least, but it’s a good robe nonetheless.”
I hadn’t noticed until then that Hendrix was missing nearly two-thirds of his HP. The molten circles had been more devastating to the party than I’d initially realized. Manalolz danced around in his robe, holding his flowing mustache so that it didn’t tangle. I clenched a fist and stormed toward him.
I put myself in his way, and he was forced to stop lest he run into me. “We going? Good. About time.”
“No,” I said. “You want to continue this dungeon, don’t you?”
“No kidding,” he said with a sour note of sarcasm in his voice. “What gave that away, champ?”
“Then, how’s about you start healing?”
“I healed the tank.”
“Heal everyone.”
“We beat the boss.”
I stepped forward. He stepped back. “Scallion’s dead. Nikk and Hendrix are damaged. Do you really want to get to the next fight with half-dead party members? What do you think will happen to you when all the damage dealers are dead?”
“Maybe don’t stand in the fire?”
“I was watching,” I said. “No one was standing. That whole phase of the fight was a mess. Those circles came fast. From here on out, it doesn’t matter how someone takes damage. You heal them. Got it?”
Manalolz said nothing. He stroked his long moustache and averted my eyes.
“You pull anything like this again. We’ll turn right around and pug a healer who actually wants to heal.”
Manalolz nodded. His eyes stuck to the leafy canopy.
I walked away but turned to face him again only a few steps later. “And another thing.”
He reluctantly looked up to face me.
“Stop insulting our tank.”