The caravan sprawled in a large room carved under a huge dome, built with multiple levels connecting six different corridors. Enoch approached Tatiana, surrounded by her blacksmith, telling an animated story.
She paused mid sentence and greeted him, “Matbia’s seared tits –”
“Wait, I actually thought about this one, how can he have tits? That god is a male.”
“Wished he had some.”
What could he even say? He stayed quiet. Mouth half opened.
Tatiana turned to her companion and said, “you saw that Outsider in the fight? He nearly killed as much as Andrej.”
Enoch said, “nah.”
“And his purple murder ball. I shot it once you know. The lunatic showed after daylight dressed as a murder hobo.”
One of the blacksmiths piled on, overenthusiastic, “pfft, Outsiders, I am right?”
The group stayed silent. One of the guy’s friend elbowed him in the rib.
Enoch simply continued, “I’m actually here for armor. We haven’t found anything worthwhile and the gambeson isn’t cutting it anymore. The mutants go right through it.”
Tatiana looked at her own mastercraft full plate, then at the ones on her blacksmiths, “and you’re wondering if we have one these lying around, tailored just for you?”
“Kind of, it’s a bit too heavy for my style. I’d be happy with a good cuirass, arm plates, a good skirt and some shin guards.”
“Is that all?” Her group laughed.
“Magical if possible.”
“Tell you what,” she said, “I do have some mastercraft pieces for you. I’ll lend them to you right away, they’re yours if you get us to the Drones.”
That quest again. The AI really railroaded him this game. It didn’t turn too bad overall. It put a few miles of solid stone between the butthurt player killers and himself. He nodded, followed her to one of the wagons.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Mastercraft Greaves | Armor | Rarity 4
Damage Resist 5
Mastercraft Rebraces | Armor | Rarity 4
Damage Resist 5
Mastercraft Vambraces | Armor | Rarity 4
Damage Resist 5
A pebble came from a dark recess of the room. It hit the overenthusiastic blacksmith in the back of the head. Ah, Choo. Maybe Telekinesis wasn’t so bad after all.
***
Andrej’s daily scouting quest gave Enoch his level. The familiar light swirled. The catchy tune played. Dopamine hit Enoch, still there after all these games.
Enoch said, “I’ve been meaning to ask you. What's this all about? Why go deeper? Why are the mutants hunting us with this intensity? Shouldn’t they have stayed on the surface and moved on to plunder other regions?”
Andrej winked, “Clever Outsider, can’t get one past you, eh. Follow me.”
His annoying friend started protesting but the mayor waved him away. He walked with shaky half-steps toward the closest wagon.
“Old ages and war don’t mix my special friend.”
The chat caught it.
“Old Andrej knows our streamer is special.”
“Special is one way to put it.”
Enoch dismissed the comments. Internets trolls. Not worth the attention.
Andrej reached the wagon. Tapped three carved sigils in a complicated combination. They lit up in bright orange. A circular hatch opened, about ten inches wide. The old clerk put his whole arm in the opening. Reached deep. Bit his lip. Grimaced. Grunted. Then shifted his weight as something clicked deep inside the wagon. A bigger hatch, rectangular with a cut corner, opened. Pink light illuminated the whole room. [Blinded – 3 seconds]. A cozy heat followed.
Enoch’s eyes adjusted and saw the vibrant core. Three spheres of black metal, embedded one into the other, rotating in a ball of fierce energy, black pixels appearing and collapsing unto themselves, pulsating neon pink Mana. A Drone Core.
Enoch whistled. Said, “it powers the wagon. You have three?”
Andrej said, “we do. We used them for the forge back in the village. Now we have to bring them to the Drones.”
“How did you get three? Let alone one.”
“I borrowed them in my youth.”
No surprise there. The guy radiated a vibe. The retired adventurer one. Obvious from the start. Every civilized place needed a protector. This village had an old puppeteer. A crazy build. Crafting, Willpower, Intellect, and a convoluted path of Spells.
Andrej grabbed Enoch’s shoulder. Stared at him, his face way too close. “Imagine the reward.”
Andrej’s mouth, behind the pointy beard, oozed greed as he smiled. He slapped Enoch on the upper arm. Said, “I’ll share a sliver of the Drones largess with you if you help us reach their Hive.”
The rails again.
“Alright, alright, I’ll do it.”