50. Shammy Wow!

“Fall back,” I yelled. “We triggered an event of sorts and I’m not keen on seeing what the new kind of goblin does. Tam, get ready to stop once TG and Rella are clear. I’ll scoop up the loot if your skill works like it does with slimes.”

Tam kept up his motormouth barrage, seemingly having three conversations at the same time as his commentary. “And that’s the last time THAT particular goblin’s ever going to try that technique. Oh wow, that’s a pretty swirling ball of magic. I didn’t know shamans could summon spirits like that. HEY! SHAMAN! NICE SPELL! Do you think he heard me? I’m glad this didn’t happen later, because my mana is almost bone dry. Why is bone dry even a term? Nice one, Rella! I’ve only ever had wet bones. No, Jean, not like that. I meant in a soup. Yes, soup. You’ve never had bones in a soup? What about when you boil ribs for a boiled dinner? Of course, boiled meat is the best kind of meat, especially if it’s been salted or pickled beforehand. OY, SHAMAN. ARE THOSE BONES YOU’RE WEARING WET? ARE THEY PRE-PICKLED OR SALTED? Is cured the same as salted? Because if it isn’t, I was going to ask if- ARE THEY CURED? SHAMANS CURE CURSES, DO THEY CURE THEIR MEAT, TOO? NOT SEXUALLY, JEAN, oh, sorry. No, not sexually, Jean. I was talking about literal meat, not goblin meat. Well, it could be both, sure.”

A vein in Jean’s forehead seemed to stick out so much that I was pretty sure it was going to gain sentience and grow a mustache. Really, the man’s blood pressure seemed to be sky high as he held his magical shields up, which was weird, as I thought that he’d really get along with Tam. I thought I saw a ghost of a smile on Jean’s face, though, when he thought that Tam wasn’t looking. I turned towards the parted goblins to get a glimpse of whatever spirit magic Tam was talking about, when I noticed strange blobs of white and pale green… Something… Zipping from fallen goblins and into a growing ball of swirling energy right above the goblin shaman’s staff. I shouted at TG to hurry and for Thwain to get clear, just as Tam cut off abruptly.

“Without the need to boil - oh shit, there goes my mana.”

Tam had babbled for so long that I had almost forgotten that he was constantly hemorrhaging mana. And, oh, was it a spectacular use of mana. I swear, I heard trumpets play an upbeat symphony as heads exploded as if in slow motion. The entire floor seemed to lag for a second as if processing the sheer amount of destruction that was to come. Goblin heads popped, chests caved in, motes of light, blood and brains flew in every direction as every goblin spearman just… Died. All of the nearby swordsmen followed suit, though haltingly. Most of the closest swordsmen fell to a knee, bled from their eyes and ears, then passed out into the bloody mud before shattering into particles of ambient mana. Other swordsmen, farther away, stumbled as if hit by a concussive blast. Even farther back, goblins seemed a little dazed, but soon began rushing in.

The shaman, for his part, wasn’t left unaffected. As goblin spearmen burst apart and goblin swordsmen died off slowly, the shaman was far enough away to avoid death, but close enough to be caught in the stunning effects of Tam’s Psychic Babble skill. Unlike the swordsmen, however, who were simply stunned for a bit before resuming their charge, the shaman was mid-cast. He had been amassing a large amount of wisps, souls or whatever was powering the large ball of energy that he was planning on using against us. Unfortunately for him, a psychic assault that caused both a mental and a physical stagger wasn’t exactly part of the casting ritual. The swirling ball of soulstuff grew less and less stable, warbling and warping as the shaman frantically tried to regain control of his skill.

Just then, Thwain decided to unload the rest of his bullets into the shaman while TG launched one last totem. The first few bullets ricocheted off of an invisible shield and the totem flew wide, almost hitting the shaman. And, as the saying goes, “almost” only counts when playing with horseshoes and totems. The first totem blast shattered the shaman’s shield. The last two bullets in Thwain’s gun slammed into the shaman’s chest, sending him stumbling back a few steps. Thwain conjured another gun. The second blast from the totem sent the shaman sprawling forwards, landing in a crumpled heap, into which Thwain unloaded eleven bullets in a row.

The ball of energy went from rippling to warbling to catastrophic failure as the shaman lost every shred of control that he had over it. Instead of exploding, however, the ball sucked in on itself, dragging the fifteen or so nearest goblins closer to it, before seemingly disappearing.

“Well, if dat ain’t da dumbest-” Jean’s complaint was cut off by a massive explosion. A shockwave of force shot out, obliterating every goblin within just under fifty feet and flinging the next fifty feet worth of goblins off of their feet and onto their asses. I was sent tumbling back, even though I was suspended inside of Slimey. TG and Rella were flung hard into Jean’s blue magical barriers, which also took a strong beating, flickering in and out as Jean’s mana bottomed out. A pillar of intertwined blue and green energies shot up into the sky, not quite as powerful as Yagmar’s skill, but worryingly potent nonetheless. If one of us had been hit by that spell… Hopefully the spell’s instability from its failure increased its potency. Otherwise, I wasn’t sure how we’d ever be able to deal with goblin shamans.

Between our earlier assault, Tam’s max-powered skill and the soulstuff explosion, the zone immediately around the portal was littered with white, green and blue loot orbs as well as devoid of goblins for the first time. I rushed over, swallowing loot orbs as fast as I could while the goblins were still disoriented and picking themselves off of the ground. I beelined it for the location of the shaman’s death, my heart feeling like it was going to lodge itself in my throat. The shaman’s loot orb wasn’t blue. It was purple. I scooped it up and circled the portal one last time, nabbing the last few loot orbs, then followed the rest of the group through the portal.

The mood on Floor 1 was a mix of jovial celebration at our loot haul and disbelief at the shaman’s failed skill’s power.

“Should we bring everything back to base before opening the loot orbs?” I asked.

“Not a chance in fuck!” Jean protested.

“Absolutely,” Burt opined.

“Indeed,” TG boomed.

“Sure!” Tam agreed.

I looked to Rella to see what she thought. She shrugged indifferently. “Bring me back when you crack them open,” she said, then disappeared in a puff of smoke. I stared blankly at where she had been standing. She just… She just dismissed herself. I had no idea that she could unsummon without my prompting. I mean, it was fine, but I didn’t know that it was possible. Slimey hadn’t ever shown any signs of wanting or being able to do so. Maybe I should ask him? He’d probably just burble, though.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“Alright, I guess we’re going back to base first.

When we were all back at the base, we chose a secluded meeting room with plenty of slits to let in light from above. I excitedly unsummoned and resummoned Slimey into the room to let me dump the loot orbs onto the table, but hesitated when it came to the purple orb. With a held sigh, I made Slimey deposit it onto the table, as well, then dismissed my summon.

“Floors above, that’s not blue!” Tam exclaimed. “That’s… That’s purple! Hey, aren’t purples [EPIC]?” He reached forwards tentatively but Burt swiped his hand away.

“Yes, purples are [Epic], Tam. Which is why we’ll chop off your hand if you touch it.” The Warfare Specialist smiled as if he had just said something sweet to the boy. Tam quickly tucked his hands into his pants to avoid temptation.

“Den, who gets ta touch da purple orb?” Jean asked, excitedly rubbing his hands together.

“We must make it fair,” TG proclaimed. “An arm wrestle or a similar test of strength is the Tower’s way.”

“You’re just saying that because you’d win!” Tam complained.

“I agree wit shrimpy,” Jean said, crossing his arms.

“We draw straws,” Thwain proclaimed. The bickering stopped as we all looked towards the shirtless Gunner. He shrugged. “I don’t need it, so I’ll go get set up. Hurry up and decide the picking order before the orbs decide to sink into the ground or something.” With that, he walked off, only to return a minute later with sticks in a clenched fist. What followed was a bunch of mumbling and grumbling where TG won, followed by Burt, Tam, Jean and then me.

I hastily summoned Rella as TG approached the purple orb, feeling quite a bit of strain, but far less than before the cost reduction. To be honest, it was pretty ridiculous. Before my upgrade, I could only summon Rella once a day or so. Post upgrade, I had already summoned her three times in a day and only felt strained instead of absolutely exhausted. She gave me a nod, then laser-focused onto the purple orb.

TG strutted up to the loot orb, proud to be the chosen one. Then, he frowned, looking over at a sulking Tam. “Ok. Alright,” he said. “Come and poke the orb, kid. Chances are, I still want what’s inside, though.”

“Really?!” Tam bounded forward, not giving TG a chance to back out. He slammed his hand into the purple loot orb, his eyes going wide as it coalesced into a small black orb.

“It’s… Uh… It’s a ball? Or an eye?” Tam asked, looking at the orb confusedly.

My mouth watered at the sight. Sure, it was a strange reaction, but I was probably one of the only three people on the entire floor that knew how to use the drop. “It’s a skill,” I said softly.

“Like what Thwain used for his wings?” Burt asked, looking between me and Thwain.

Thwain and I both nodded seriously.

“A skill!” TG exclaimed. “This requires further deliberation. I would not want to take such a thing on the basis of a pedestrian stick pull.”

We all responded with variations of shrugs. “You won fair and square,” I said. “It’s not like we’re going to open it to the rest of the base, and I can’t think of any other way other than random draw to pick fairly.”

The others agreed, but TG wasn’t convinced. “What if-”

“Oh Goshen, if you don’t use it, I will!” Jean yelled.

“No,” Burt started, but then reconsidered. “Actually, yeah, TG. You’re being a little ridiculous. Take it or let someone else nab it. We already decided that it was yours, though.”

After a little more back and forth, TG finally caved and swallowed the orb. As he collapsed to the ground in a twitchy heap, I wondered if swallowing the orb was the right way to use it. Maybe next time, we’ll suggest sending mana into it or extracting mana from it. While TG processed the new skill, I grabbed Thwain and dragged him to Pyro, leaving the rest of the loot to the others. It took a while for us to find him, but we eventually found Pyro at the end of a tunnel leading towards the church’s portal.

“Hey, did you read the note?” I asked. Pyro grunted and shrugged.

“Yeah, but that’s a weird list. Why’d you write it?”

“I didn’t!” I explained to both Thwain and Pyro how I had found the note and my theory about how I was probably supposed to have seen it when I had first grabbed the box of Awakening Stones. Pyro just looked at me like I had three heads, but Thwain frowned seriously.

“Time loops and regressors have both been confirmed throughout the years,” he said, stretching his back like he was flexing his unconjured wings. “With how the note’s written, though, it’s either a time loop or someone is trying really hard to convince us that there’s one.”

“Can’t we, like, look at the stars or whatever or try and contact the gods? Aren’t those supposed to be fucky in a loop?” Pyro asked.

Thwain shook his head. “The smog above the Slums is too thick to see the stars, and Floor 1 doesn’t have any stars at all.”

“So, assuming it’s real, what do we do? And if it’s fake, what do we do, then?” I asked, looking between my two friends.

“If it’s real, that explains a few things. People don’t usually throw around Awakening Stones just to see what happens. Plus, the way the gangs instantly started working together… If it’s fake, though, we’ve got a spy problem. Someone’s been watching us closely for weeks.”

Pyro shuddered. “I don’t know which one I hate more. That we’ve been dying on a loop an unknown amount of times or that someone has a skill that lets them watch us everywhere, all the time.”

“What do we do about the instructions to go to the Gilded Hornet?”

“Ignore,” both Pyro and Thwain said in unison.

“Probably a trap.”

“Definitely a trap.”

“I bet you walk in there and ask for a Bab, they give you a rusty knife right in the kidneys.”

“Maybe it’s a ploy to catch whoever steals the Awakening Stones if someone takes them before whoever stashed them got them back,” Thwain offered.

“Nah,” I said, shaking my head. “The note is too specific. Too pointed towards us. They even knew about the raid.”

“Enchanted paper?”

“Too finicky.”

“Mind-reading glyphs linked to an inscription glyph?”

“Too expensive.”

We talked in circles for the rest of the night, never reaching a bulletproof conclusion. Either way, I was clearly the most worried of the three of us. Pyro was busy with carving more tunnels, convinced that he’d be safe from scrying if he dug far enough down. Thwain, for his part, simply liked knowing that we were under surveillance, even if it meant that there was more trouble coming towards us. Eventually, I forced my eyes to stay open as I made my way to my room, letting Slimey carry me most of the way. I snuggled up in my pillow-filled corner, willing myself to sleep like the dead until someone came and woke me. They would, no doubt. It was raid day in the morning.