George led the way through the forest to where the entrance to the ant dungeon sat waiting for them. He was unused to the noise made by so many people walking through the woods, and had to keep himself from wincing when someone mis-stepped on a branch or slipped on a rock.
Kyla followed right behind him, her spear and shield in hand. The length of the spear occasionally became a problem as it banged against narrower gaps in the trees, but she didn’t complain at all.
Behind her, Jack strode along, looking uncomfortable but not with the exertion - rather, he continued to glance at the group, doing a headcount every few seconds as if it were a habitual tick. George felt for the man - he’d been right there when Gunther had fallen, and he could only imagine the trauma and stress that would be heaped upon someone after living through that situation.
Coming up behind Jack, Sarah and Miriam walked close to each other. They’d been slightly upset at the implication, but George had insisted they go in the middle or rear of the formation. Miriam and Sarah both lacked any defensive skills to speak of, and wore cloth rather than armour. He would not risk either of their safety by having them at the outer edges. Miriam declined to remind him of her Mage Armour, as it was untested and she liked talking with Sarah anyways.
Ezekiel brought up the rear, bow strung and arrow in hand, but he held them apart and manoeuvred through the trees with ease. Ezekiel had a knack with that bow of his, and was only getting better with it. George thought it must be nice to have a dedicated class, but then again, he could outfight the Archer in melee any day so he curbed his jealousy.
They were passing the time during the walk talking about the gains from the battle.
“I mean, Mana Efficiency is really useful, but I almost feel like it should have been a part of the class to begin with?” Miriam responded to Sarah, who had asked about her new skill. “I could barely cast anything until I got it.”
“Think of it this way:” Ezekiel offered. “When I played games Before, difficult spells would have more requirements. Whether that was a level requirement or a minimum amount of mana, you couldn’t just make a new character and then go calling down meteors to smite your foes, you need to work your way up. What’s your cheapest spell?”
“Mana Dart.” Miriam answered. “Though I think I can aspect it to use electric-”
“Don’t.” Ezekiel answered before she could continue. “If the trend keeps up, adding an aspect will likely increase the mana cost, as would any other modifications. To keep with the game analogy, sometimes you would be able to craft spells, but until you got really good, they would always cost more than the premade spells. So stick with your Mana Dart, I’d suggest. Do you know how many you can cast before you need to rest?”
Miriam’s eyes flashed blue for the briefest moment. “If my math is right - and I hate that I said those words - then I should be able to do… Well first I’d like to brag that my Intelligence is 98, thank you very much. That puts me up next to break 100-”
“Nope.” George answered. “I broke 100. I’ve got 101 Agility. Got it yesterday during the clean-up, apparently skinning and butchering the Raccans gave me experience for both of my classes. A fair amount, too.”
“Damnit. Fine, I’ll be third..” Miriam waited for someone to correct her, and seeing nobody rising to do just that, continued. “Yea, anyways, so with 98 Intelligence, I regain about 34 mana per minute. Mana Dart costs 4- Sorry, 3 now… Which means… I would be able to cast it roughly 11 times per minute without risking exhaustion. Actually, without losing any Mana at all.”
“There you go. Use that as your base spell, then cast the big ones when you need them. It’s like a tabletop - Mana Dart is your damage cantrip.” Ezekiel said proudly.
Miriam blinked. She’d always been trying to do new things, trying to create bigger and better and more versatile spells but what if she just tried to optimise existing ones instead? Miriam fell into her mental model and began reviewing arrays. Almost absently, Sarah reached out and grabbed Miriam’s elbow to continue guiding her along the path.
George fought the urge to chuckle. She was like that in their tabletop games too, always looking for the single solution, or the biggest effect. He couldn’t leave it at that though, he was just too curious. “Sarah, did you cross 15 during the fight?”
“Fourteen.” The Healer responded. “I should get a new skill in the dungeon, assuming you guys get hurt. Which, without any sort of front line fighters, I imagine you will.”
“Hey!” George protested. “Nimbus can be pretty vicious when he wants to be, and I’m a melee fighter!”
“There’s a difference between a striker and a tank.” Ezekiel continued. He was much more vocal when it came to discussing the System. “I don’t doubt you do damage, but do you have any defensive skills at all? Taunts? Self-heals? Anything that would let you be a tank instead of a ranger? You’re more of a skirmisher-striker hybrid, from what I could tell.”
George nodded, having already placed himself in that role. “Which makes you…”
“Ranged striker. All my skills so far have been for accurate shots and extra damage. I just picked up an Overdraw ability which increases my armour piercing, even. Kyla is a melee striker for certain, as she has similar things for her spear - or weapons in general, I think?”
“Below a certain technology level but yea, nothing I’ve found yet has been outside of that restriction.” Kyla answered. “Do everyone else, too!”
“Alright.” Ezekiel conceded. “Miriam is obviously a mage, which get their own classifications. I’d place her as a battle-mage while Sarah would be a support-mage. With her bone-breaking and adrenaline, I can’t classify her as a straight Healer.”
“My class is literally Healer.” Sarah deadpanned.
“I stand by my statement. Mitchell would definitely be a tank, as while he can take hits, it still takes him a while to actually get the kill on things his own level. John would be a marshal-type class, which typically is more rare, but relies on buffing those around you while still being in the thick of the fight.”
General murmurs of agreement sounded, until a voice cut through. “What about me?”
Jack stood with sword, spear, and shield, dressed in John’s leather armour. He looked every bit the soldier, less the horsehair mohawk - John had refused to let him wear that helmet. It was a status symbol. “I only have the skills from my Legionnaire class.”
George hummed curiously. “I suppose we never really asked about you, Jack. Do you have two classes? What are they?”
Jack laughed, abandoning the grim expression, but anyone with enough Instinct could tell it was a front for hidden emotions. “‘Course I do. Level 9 Legionnaire, Level 7 Courier. I have my Weapon Expertise from the combat class, and a minor buff to stamina expenditure from the Courier class.”
“Weapon expertise like John’s? Javelins, shields, shortswords?” George asked to clarify.
Jack grunted an affirmative. “Yes sir.”
Ezekiel hummed. “It’s too early to tell, but so far with your load-out it seems like you’re built to hold a line, but with the lighter armour… That’s tricky.”
“Don’t worry, Jack.” Sarah responded to the legionnaires look of slight distress. “We’ll get you a few more levels and then we ca-”
George held up a fist and hissed out a command. “Quiet!”
The group stumbled to a stop and held utterly still. George strained his ears, listening intently, and the faintest sound of yipping could be heard. “Coyotes.” He muttered. “Still a ways off. Let’s hope they didn’t pick up our scent.”
The rest of the walk was made without conversation, as the tension continued to build. Where once the sun shining through the forest brought periods of dappled warmth, now that very same phenomenon caused the shadows to seem like they were writhing and twisting, just waiting to expunge a pack of coyotes.
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They found themselves in front of the shimmer in the air that depicted the dungeon, without another sign of the coyotes. Whether that was due to their stealth or due to the coyotes simply going a different direction was uncertain. They took a break out front for a brief lunch that consisted of jerky from the System Store, and a few gulps of water from their canteens. Soon, it was time to enter.
George began the briefing. “Alright. Since nether John nor Mitchell is here, I’ll-”
“Be handing off leadership to me, the Healer who will have a full view of any battles, have the best grasp of how hard we’re pushing, and has actually been here before.” Sarah stepped up, and George gave a sigh of relief. He wanted to run the dungeon, sure, but he in no way wanted any sort of leadership role. Stepping aside, he gestured her towards where he’d been standing, as if that spot of dirt was more important for the role than the spot of dirt she’d stepped off.
Hiding an eye roll, Sarah turned to face the rest of them. “Alright, some quick reminders. The ants of both species are strong, stronger than us, but they don’t turn very quickly. In a straight line, they can be fast, and it’s not impossible that they’ll climb walls to get around our lines. The carpenter ants will start off hostile, but so long as we don’t kill too many and make sure we rescue the miners down below, they should accept us as allies for the final fight against the Fire Ant Queen. At least, they did when Mitchell asked.”
“Weak spots?” Ezekiel asked, his tone all business.
Sarah nodded. “The joints where their legs meet the body are weak to blunt impact. We found it easiest to remove the legs then work away at the head and body after they can’t move anymore.”
Kyla shuddered. “Damn that sounds horrifying.”
“It is what it is. We don’t know how strong their chitin is, but we know that their own bite force is enough to puncture it. I’ll go over individual units real quick - The carpenter ants are divided into Minors and Majors, led by a queen. The Minors have extensive strength and strong armour, which is only magnified in the Majors, but neither have any sort of ranged or special attacks. Their armour is also vulnerable to fire, which is why the fire ants have subjugated them.”
Jack grumbled something under his breath, a look of anger on his face and a violent set to his posture. Sarah briefly marvelled that she could tell so much about him from a split-second glance, then continued. “The fire ants are the real threat. Don’t get me wrong, the carpenter’s-”
“I vote we call them carps and fires.” Miriam cut in. “For efficiency.”
“Fine.” Sarah accepted. “The carps are still dangerous, but only if you’re not paying attention. The fires can use a short range flamethrower attack, but they never did it more than once in our fights which implies a recharging time. Other than that, their Queen is a monster in combat, but their armour is weaker than that of the carps, and there’s less of them from what we saw. We avoided a few side tunnels, though, so for all we know, there could be thousands.”
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
Ezekiel chimed in. “So for tactics, we want to avoid getting swarmed - of course - which leads to having a backup, more mobile formation. We obviously want to keep what we discussed before, with squishies in the center, but if we get outnumbered it will be difficult to keep them off you.”
Miriam scoffed. “If any get past, they can taste lightning.”
Ezekiel blinked. “I suppose they can, as long as you’re sure it won’t chain to us instead?”
“Only if there’s not enough valid targets.” Miriam said. “But thankfully, I can count to three, so if I were you I wouldn’t worry.”
With their strategy discussed, and the lot of them fed, the first true party of Old Mill Town delved into the dungeon.
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John stood before a scraggly group of recent Aspirants that had arrived this morning. With the levels and bonuses the settlement had gained, Mitchell had ensured that everyone arriving would be at the minimum standards to become a recruit.
12 Aspirants. Eight men, four women. All of fighting age, none with families, and all ready to fight and bleed for Old Mill Town. It was his job to ensure that when they fought, it was their enemies who bled. He missed Jack’s presence. His Optio should be the one organising this, even though John could admit keeping busy was good for his own mental health.
Mitchell was in the Clan House, dealing with something or other, so it was just him out here. Regardless, he knew there were certain ceremonial aspects of his position he needed to upkeep. With his budding Legion, though, he allowed more of his personal preference to show than he might have otherwise.
“Welcome to Old Mill Town, Aspirants. My name is John Forrest, and I am the Master of Law and Order here. More importantly than that - to you, at least - is that I am your Centurion. I am the brain behind the body of the Legion, and you will be my eyes, ears, hands, and feet. Together, we are all one unit, one Legion, and I will not tolerate any infighting of any sort.”
John sweat under the sun and the heat getting trapped in his heavy helmet, but did not let show any discomfort. “The last time my Legion fought, we were set against a vicious foe who showed no mercy, showed no qualms about killing the civilians and eating the dead. They were uncivilised barbarians, and we routed them to the last man. Yes, we took losses, but more so than that, we performed a feat of incomparable weight - the Legion held.”
He began to pace back and forth in front of them, in the grassy spot near the eastern wall he’d used for brief training before the Raccan Siege, as they had taken to calling it around the town. “When every single soul in this beautiful Town relied on us to hold back the dark, we did. When all that stood between death and damnation was a few brave men, just like you all, they held strong. That is what we are, Aspirants. We are the shield that guards the innocent and the sword to punish the wicked. We are the Legion.”
John snapped to a halt before his captive audience, then slowly and deliberately reached up, and removed his helmet. “Well, I am, at least. For these first few days, you all have only one goal - keep up.”
He placed his helmet gently on the ground in the shade, then stood, stretched, and took off at a slow jog. Well, a slow jog for him - with 36 Agility and a solid 30 in Vitality and Constitution, he could have run at a fast pace for the next hour, but he knew the new immigrants arrived at the level of the town and so he had a batch of 3rd level Humans to level up, but he couldn’t even start until he was sure they could wave around a sword for more than 30 seconds without getting gassed.
So for the entirety of the morning, they ran. They ran around the outside of the wall from the south gate to the north, cut back in, then ran by the docks to the amusement of the Aspirants working there - John made a mental note to see with Mitchell about what exactly could get someone bumped up to an Outer Member, as having his fresh recruits at the same rank as the Siege survivors seemed a bit disrespectful to him.
When those very same dock workers stopped what they were doing and clasped their arms to their chests in admittedly sloppy Legion salutes, he sped up his pace. He didn’t want anyone to see the way his face screwed up at the display. The same thing happened as they passed the farm - workers stood straight in their fields, saluting like military scarecrows, and John's emotions finally settled as he saw that Mitchell was right. It was something he knew, deep inside, but wasn’t allowing himself to feel out of guilt.
Now, though, with a larger Legion taking form and the expressions of gratitude from the people he had given his all to protect, John allowed himself to slow back down and lope along with his head held high and his heart full of pride.
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“Three left!”
“Rotating! Miri-” the crackle of lightning muffled the rest of the sentence.
“Got it!” The Acolyte called out, already forming the arrays for another Mana Dart. She was finding that MP wasn’t her restricting factor for her spellcasting, but the formation of the arrays themselves.
So whenever she found a good opportunity, she didn’t hesitate to use her newer spells. She was finding less and less situations for it though, as the group settled into their rhythm. Kyla and Jack barely needed to do anything at this point - Ezekiel and George had taken it upon themselves to hold a competition to see who could get the most ants in the least amount of time, and the battle was fierce. Miriam thought that Nimbus would give George the edge, but Ezekiel was faster on the draw than her Ranger friend, so it could end up being close.
So, she shot Mana Darts at any who were far away, working on her aim. It wasn’t like her arrays came with an ‘Aim Here’ array - if it wasn’t a guided or targeted projectile, it just came out of the arcane construction perpendicular to the plane she crafted it on. Or, to make it simple, if she put her arrays flat on the ground, the dart would shoot straight for the ceiling.
She fought back a curious intuition of some sort of device she could make the arrays within in order to have a scope or some other way to aim atop of it, but she- Oh, she could just use a telescope and make the arrays small enough-
“Snap out of it, wizard lady. If I gotta pay attention to the combat, you do too.” Kyla called back to her, and Miriam cursed. She’d been distracted and hadn’t been firing off Mana Darts, but soon the arrows took care of the rest of the carp Minors in the small cave they were in, and the group decided to rest and discuss.
It was only their fourth room, but the numbers had steadily grown, and from Sarah’s experience she said the various ants were at a higher level than when they last entered. There hadn’t even been any injuries yet, but she distinctly recalled the dungeon taking hours to get through, and if it kept growing at this rate…
Miriam dismissed the thought. They were here for loot and levels, and she hadn’t gotten either yet. As George and Ezekiel fought over who had a higher count so far, she slipped an arrow from George’s quiver. Stealing turned out to be less of an issue when the one in question could remake it with a small application of otherwise unused mana, evidenced by George looking down at her mid-grab and turning away conspicuously as if he didn’t see her, which only drew more attention.
She huffed at their antics and took her prize aside - still within the light of the odd crystals in the side of the tunnel, but not close enough to be distracted by the rest of her group.
She would work on levelling up her secondary class, then, if things were mostly handled by the others. Snapping the arrowhead off, she began to sink into her less-developed but still robust mental model of enchantment.
Enchantment worked largely like spell arrays did, though the arrays themselves were absent. Enchantment was more about modules than full arrays, and she would slot those together to make her own mosaic - or at least, that’s what she called it, as the various modules were colour coded in her mental model. To make things easier on herself, she decided to try out a basic enchantment she’d done on the walls but would need to be adapted for a held tool - a Strengthening Enchantment.
As it was a simple enchantment designed to be applied directly to the material it would be strengthening, it was all but the easiest possible enchantment to create, save for one thing - In her initial attempt, the enchantment took hold, but as soon as she lifted the improvised wand off her lap, she could essentially feel the magic slip away and fade into nothing.
Things continued in this manner for a few more rooms until Miriam had a breakthrough mid-combat, upon seeing Nimbus hop on top of one of the carp Minors and subsequently slide right off when the Minor dodged to the side.
“Damnit!” Miriam cried in frustration, letting the arrays for a Lightning Bolt fade as Kyla impaled the final enemy through the mouth. “Guys, do you mind waiting for a moment? I have an idea and don’t want to lose the inspiration.”
Jack looked around. “I uh.. Sure? I suppose I could bring out lunch.”
Jack looked up from his bag to see many pairs of eyes gazing avidly at his pack. He shrugged with a smile. “What? Legion rules - if you’ll be on campaign, you bring enough food for an extra half-length. I’ve got lunch, tonights dinner, tomorrows breakfast, and tomorrow’s lunch. What did you think I had in here?”
“... Supplies? Which now that I think of it, would include food..” Sarah said offhandedly. “Alright sure, let’s take a break. I don’t think anyone’s gotten hit yet, but let me do a Diagnosis on everyone while we’re stopped just to make sure.”
Jack got out some basic cooking supplies and a bag of dried potato pastries, and soon was helping George with cooking up lunch. No reason not to share the experience after all.
Miriam retreated to her mental model and continued to puzzle over actually attaching the enchantment to something that was designed to move.
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As the sun set over Old Mill Town, one could hardly tell the place had been host to a violent siege. A part of this was due to the Raccans lacking siege engines, or any other method of demolishing buildings and structures. Another was due to the layered defense ensuring battle never took place in one spot for too long.
Mostly, though, it was due to the clean-up efforts of the Aspirants, and Mitchell knew that there was a change to be made. These people had endured the harrowing experience with grit and tenacity, and not one person could say they didn’t belong here, so he’d gathered everyone once again.
“Firstly, I would like to extend my apologies to each and every one of you. Your time is valuable, and your free time even more so. I will make this quick. With the authority of the Patriarch, seconded by the Master of Law and Order, I hereby promote everyone here to Outer Members. This is a significant moment in ou-”
Mitchell’s planned speech was cut off by a collective cheer, and as he looked over the crowd, he could see a few people even had glistening tears in their eyes.
This was the result of spending extra for the cultural aspect of immigration - the people here acted as if they’d been in Old Mill Town their entire lives. As Mitchell watched a couple embrace each other in celebration, their child doing a small dance, he-
Wait, what?
Mitchell did a double-take, and his eyes did not deceive him - at some point, a child had shown up, and he had never noticed. He took a quick moment to raise a hand. “Yes, it is very exciting! Over the coming days, more Aspirants will arrive and I’m relying on you all to get them situated. However, I have more good news. Tommen, step forth.”
“Yes, Patriarch! How may this Outer Member please you?”
Mitchell cringed, knowing that the man meant it as he said it, and not with any other implication, but it still felt weird to have that level of subservience. “This Inner Member may rise to his feet. You took initiative and are performing an invaluable service to the Clan. I name you friend and ally to all here, and I give you the power to induct any Aspirants you believe would be beneficial to this Clan. Do you agree to uphold the laws and customs of the Clan, both in your personal life and professional dealings?”
Tommen looked up at him with squinted eyes. “Yes, Patriarch! My life and means are yours!”
Mitchell knelt down to Tommen’s height. “You understand your duties? Your responsibilities?”
Tommen nodded solemnly, even with the grin threatening to split his face.
“Then stand up already, Tommen. Inner Members do not kneel.” Mitchell stood and raised his voice. “Let it be known today that Tommen is the first of his line to become an Inner Member. You may submit a surname to the Clan archives, and those who share that name while you live shall also share your status. You may recruit Aspirants, discipline Outer Members who fail to uphold our code, and directly petition the Core Members. You are also given the right to sit in on our meetings in the longhouse. Furthermore, you are permitted to build your house within the Inner Walls. Note that since we have yet to create any outer walls, that provision applies to everyone, but once we expand, you and yours will be held close to the centre of the Town. Finally, as our primary merchant, I give you this grant of coin, that you might begin the celebration you all deserve!”
Within minutes of the meetings end, cheap mead flowed. It was not well-made, nor was it particularly strong, but Tommen managed to get himself three barrels of it for the 50 F coins he’d been granted. The first drinks were harsh, but as the people let go of their emotions and inhibitions, they let themselves feel what had been repressed by duties and work for so long.
The celebration was equal parts trauma processing and ill-conceived coupling, yet despite the riot of celebration and emotion outside of the longhouse, the interior was quiet.
Inside, sitting on opposite sides of the long pit, three men raised poorly carved wooden cups filled with hard spirits and raised a toast to a fallen comrade, and the recovery of one thought lost.
Aleks had never drank liquor this harsh before, but as he found himself at the bottom of his cup, he wordlessly held it out to be refilled, barely noting that the Patriarch himself poured his cup without complaint. His eyes were all but locked on his Centurion, behind whose eyes he could see the exact same pain he felt in his own heart - the pain of failing a friend, and dealing with the hole they left behind.