A bone deep rumbling roar began to pull Gus out of the nightmare he was having. He was a burnt out bartender enduring frothing verbal abuse from a high pitched Karen type lady. His eyes had difficulty opening due to an odd cold weight on each of them. He tried to bring a hand up to clear his vision, and noticed his arms had been placed crossed over his chest like a vampire. His hands found the two silver coins that had been covering his eyes, puzzled he looked around to find a lanky figure in black hooded robe studying a stained scroll in the dimly lit cinderblock room.
The figure mumbled to himself in nasally voice, “I had the ritual all laid out perfectly before that freaknin’ giant koala tried licking the body’s mustache, likely drawn to the eucalyptus scent. What else do I have to do in order to bind his soul to my will? How am I supposed to get that Necromancer class if I don’t have a proper undead minion… This Guild is freakin’ weird.”
Recognizing Charles’ style of prank at work, Gus decided to play along. He leaned on the bass projecting voice he used in choir and D&D when running the Big Bad, letting one word reverberate off the walls he groaned, “Braaaains!”
The dark acolyte jumped, actually loosing a shoe from the sudden action. It sailed straight into Gus’ face withering his nose-hairs from the miasma wafting within. His previously refilled HP looked like it dropped by a point, but it blinked and threw up the notice.
Safe Zone: Alter Ego Comics, Cards, and Games does not allow combat. Pain filters have been set to 50% by Zone owner Sterling Wadzinski, *Owner’s Notice - No fighting until we finish building the Dungeon Area. Somehow we already have t-shirts and we haven’t even paid the Dungeon Guide Pixie yet. -
The trembling wannabe wizard held up the tattered scroll defensively and stammered “Y-you can’t hurt me, I’m your master… Now I order you to stop and stand in the corner!” The mysterious magician might have sounded commanding if his voice hadn’t cracked partway through. Gus gave his best rendition of a Thriller dance and shambled rhythmically toward the indicated corner of shame. He plodded in place when a box blocked his path halfway there.
With a deflating sigh the summoner face palmed saying, “Great, my first servant is glitching like an NPC. Do I have to get him a sweetroll as well as a map? Why is good help so hard to find?” The clatter of claws on concrete drew away the attention of the Hogwarts dropout. A horse sized koala drifted around the corner of the hallway then sniffed the air hopefully.
Profundo Bass Drop Bear (Mount): Level 19
HP: 42/42
Status: Hangry
The chocolate brown eyes of the beastie locked on Gus with curiosity. It chattered to itself which transitioned into full on beat boxing that wobbled the walls like Gus’s previous performance dialed up to 11. The murmuring magician wobbled his half barefoot self in between Gus and his adoring fan. “No, I raised him so he’s mine. You can’t have him for your boring barbershop quartet or whatever acapella adventure you karaoke crazed koala!” This of course was ignored by the DJ from Down Under who promptly tossed the goth groupie aside like bowling pin. This tussle of course liberated the other piece of footwear that skirted the line of the Geneva Convention, giving the gas maskless grouch a gasp of his own alchemical aroma.
As Gus set about giving his potential duet partner a proper scalp scritch, a chuckling posse of Guildmates moseyed onto the scene. Leading the pack was the Battle Brewer himself Charles Dean he wore what looked like a novelty beer drinking hat but with small wooden casks on each side instead of cans. Several copper pipes and funnels spiraled out of the contraption and every now and then a puff of steam smelling of cider tooted out. He turned to Nick who sauntered out beside him and had a familiar fishy friend with him that he was currently using as a back scratcher. “Oi you oaf, give the man back his fancy fishing pole. Throck has already contributed more to the Guild than your sorry self and he’s only level 2.”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Feigning dramatic sorrow Nick the Level 14 Hammer Slammer grovelled, “Please don’t take my favorite stick sir, I need it to fight the rats that live in the orphanage I’m staying in. The rats are orphans too, but their jerks about it. Just because Batman never shells out the cash for therapy its now gotta be a competition about how dead your parents are. Mine are so dead, me Mum gave birth to me at the funeral for my Pop then just keeled over and joined him. Saved some coin, not havin’ to dig another hole, but I got saddled with the bill anyway. Most kids get to have fun playin’ in a sandbox. Little ol’ me had to bury my folks all on my lonesome. Do you have any idea how hard it is to chisel a headstone when you can barely even hold a crayon? Kids these days, got it so easy with their fancy weapons that do blunt, piercing, and slashing damage. Back in my day you were lucky if the stick you sparred with didn’t have ants on it, or maybe you were lucky, its bonus damage afterall.”
The group shook their heads at the detailed backstory Nick had worked up. Charles chortled, “Are you sure you need all those extra letters in your Class? Just Ham would have summed things up nice and simple.”
“Simple like your Mum, your sweet simple LIVING mum.” Nick laid the snark with lard like thickness. Taking the thankfully clean Blood Swimmer back from the buffoon, Gus looked over the Combat Log from the latest brouhaha.
Party joined by fellow Master Teacher’s Guild members:
Charles - Battle Brewer
Nick - Hammer Slammer
Brandon - Legionnaire
Matthew - Blade Dancer
Guild Achievement Unlocked: SHAMELESS OVERKILL! - Deal more than 10 times the HP of a monster in the first 5 seconds of combat.
Reward: Spectral Taxidermists - The souls of your slain foes are bound to the trophy of their corpse, forced to recreate their moment of demise for 1 year after being slain. At the end of their ‘internship’ they are allowed to challenge your Guild for a Rematch, potentially earning their freedom in the land of the living and sweet revenge for all the silly hats you forced them to wear.
Gus looked down from the after action summary to see the awkward teen trying to reclaim his Damage Over Time and Area of Effect sneakers and make a quick exit. Gus gestured to the stealth newbie and asked “So who’s the new guy you conned with that scroll? Isn’t that just tea stained toilet paper that you wrote on with ketchup? Thats a critical fail on the arts and crafts dudes. Even more of a nat 1 for the perception check from the rookie though.”
The new recruit in question was soon pinned in the middle of an impromptu group hug. He managed to stick a hand out of the cuddle puddle to shake Gus’. “I’m Zedidiah the Terrible, sorry for the bad first impression. Once these jokers found out my name really is Zed they got the grand idea for me to become a Zombie wrangler or something.”
Using practice combo, Gus gave him a firm handshake, winning smile, and honest compliment. “You’re stage presence is quite impressive, quite convincing when you had me march to the corner to think about what a disappointment I am as a minion. Welcome aboard, I’ll keep you in mind when I start research on pet based classes like Necromancer and Swarm Lord. That is if I could get proper funding…” The added emphasis on his economic predicament wasn’t lost on Charles who just shrugged and pointed to the two coins still sitting on the ground.
“We give you an advance on your salary and this is the attitude we get? I wanted to put a full gold coin under your tongue but I was vetoed. The Boatman has to make a living too. Or is it an Unliving? Regardless, until I get a proposal for breeding a Bacon Tree on my desk, you’ll have to fund your own Mad Science. Someone has to pay to keep the spooky lights on.” He gestured to the flickering fluorescents on the ceiling. “Proper ambiance doesn’t come cheap. We had to put Brandon on stilts to put the real mold on the crown molding.”
The discussion devolved into petty squabbling about the psychological impact of active versus dusty spiderwebs, and the hazard pay tall people should get for walking into them all the time. It seemed the end of the world as they knew it just meant the start of more moments of insanity.