He was disappointed to find that only one new option had become available. The description of that Skill though, did lift his spirits a bit.
Haunt
Active
Cost: 126 Mana (.2x base Mana)
30 Meter Range
3 Second Cast
Effect: Summon a demonic spectre to haunt your target, dealing 65 (Spirit) damage (.95x Wisdom) over 14 seconds and reduces the target's movement speed by 30%.
Skill Points to Unlock: 1
Unused Skill Points: 8
Haunt may not have the added benefit of infecting everything within a given area like Blight, but it also came without a cooldown and would pair well with his Mastery: Pestilent passive ability. So, without much deliberation, Garath purchased the new Skill.
Unused Skill Points: 7
For a moment, he considered putting additional points into Mastery: Pestilent - but that was only because he now seemed to have an excess of Skill Points. On the other hand, as he had seen with the Masteries, some Skills would have a higher purchase price than 1 Skill Point. Between that and the fact that Level 20 was coming in the near future, Garath decided to hold off on making any decisions with his seven remaining SPs and see what options became available after the next wave.
Thirst quenched, APs spent, and a new Skill that he was excited to try out - Garath exited the boy’s room. He walked silently through the large and empty main hall, past the growing gaggle of children and various other non-combatants, and made his way back outside.
A quick look around revealed that the usual suspects were hanging out just outside of the doors. Athios, Fergus, TodoroKen, Warrion, and a handful of other Hawks that had fought alongside them throughout the event were quieter than they had been all day, Garath noticed. It made sense, he guessed. It had been the longest, most taxing and stressful day any of them had ever been through. Then Garath cocked his head in confusion.
The group of young boys dubbed ‘the hawkies’ (if only in Garath’s mind) were gathered around a young blond woman. The woman pointed one finger threateningly only a few inches away from AyAyRon's face and was spewing out a cluster of more vulgarities than anyone should use in the presence of children, even Garath thought so. The Necrologist approached quietly, trying not to attract any attention and prematurely end the delightful scene unfolding in front of him.
“Hey, lady…" one of the hawkies was saying, slightly cross-eyed as he cautiously backed away from Sharon's outstretched finger. "All I was trying to say is that you look good for a woman of your age. That's just a compliment! There's something seriously wrong with anyone that takes a compliment like this… are you okay?"
Sharon just looked at him, blinking rapidly.
"Like, do you need someone to talk to?" asked AyAyRon seriously. He took a step closer to Sharon and wrapped his hand around hers with a genuinely concerned look on his face. "I'm a really good listener."
This kid had balls of fucking vibranium, Garath was thoroughly impressed. The brave young man (who may be meeting his maker sooner rather than later, judging by the look on Sharon's face) had freckles spotting his cheeks and nose beneath unwashed black hair that couldn't seem to decide which direction it wanted to grow. Garath could see from his nameplate that this young man was called 'AyAyRon'.
"Ugh," Sharon grunted unattractively. "You remind me of that glowy-eyed neighbor of mine. He thinks he's pretty damn charming too." Sharon's features softened a bit, only for a fraction of a second before her taciturn visage resumed and she pulled her hand away from the boy's, then poked him hard in the chest. "Well let me tell you something, young man. If you ever touch my heiny again, I'll bend you over my knee and spank you right here in front of your friends. Now, get out of my sight you little pervert!"
“Mark it. Aaron rolls a 1 on seduction,” said a husky boy with the name 'TheDM' displayed above his head.
The rest of the hawkies laughed at their friend until SHONEN cautioned Sharon to ‘be careful’ and that, ‘he might actually enjoy that’, causing AyAyRon to fold his arms and screw up his face with one eyebrow raised appraisingly. To Garath it looked like the boy was considering whether or not he actually would enjoy that. Before the situation could escalate to any higher tier(s) of uncomfortable, the Necrologist decided to intervene.
“You guys kicked some ass out there,” he said as he approached the young men. “I’m Garath.”
“Yeah, Garath. We know. We met a few hours ago,” said a boy with feminine features and greasy blond hair that hung past his shoulders in a frayed ponytail. The nameplate affixed above the young man (‘Stabby’) told Garath that this was the party’s Rogue. It wasn’t until Garath triggered Inspect on the young boy that he learned ‘Stabby’ was actually a young girl.
“That and your nameplate,” AyAyRon added. Garath didn’t need a nameplate to know this one was the party’s shit-head (Bard).
The Necrologist’s face flattened as he looked at the adolescents, reconsidering whether he liked them at all. “Savage. Hey did I see you playing an Ocarina out there?” he asked AyAyRon.
The freckle-spotted young man’s eyes lost focus for only a second as he pulled his instrument from a tear in space that opened at his will. AyAyRon held it up for Garath to see. “You did if your eyes were open. It’s kind of hard to tell where you’re looking though, with the glowing thing. What’s that about anyway?”
“Happened when I chose my Class,” Garath explained with a shrug. “So, your Class is listed as Minstrel. The description sounded legit but I don’t play any instruments, so I passed on that one. Did you get the Ocarina as a starting item or did you just happen to have it with you when this all went down?”
“It was a starting item. The ‘System’,” the boy put up exaggerated air-quotes with his hands, “gave me a few options. But like, there really wasn’t an option. Had to get the Ocarina. I mean, I already know all the songs.”
“You don’t mean…” Garath started. No way this kid was even a thought in his daddy’s loins when the N64 changed Garath’s life with Ocarina of Time.
“Yeah, Ocarina of Time. Don’t worry about it, it’s probably before your time.”
“Ha. Ha. Ha,” he laughed humorlessly, but decided that he did like the little shits, even if they were little shits. “Good one kids. Listen, the next wave is about to start. Let’s all get to positions.”
Chapter 18
Just More Undead, Please?
Begin Combat Log:
[17:01:59:82] Your Blight inflicts 7 damage (Death) on Skeletal Tamer.
[17:01:59:82] Your Blight inflicts 7 damage (Death) on Skeletal Tamer's Dragonling.
[17:02:59:02] Your Death Bolt strikes Skeletal Tamer's Dragonling for 27 damage (Death).
[17:02:59:82] Your Blight inflicts 7 damage (Death) on Skeletal Tamer.
[17:02:59:82] Your Blight inflicts 7 damage (Death) on Skeletal Tamer's Dragonling.
[17:03:01:91] Your Death Bolt strikes Skeletal Tamer's Dragonling for 28 damage (Death).
[17:03:01:91] You have slain Skeletal Tamer's Dragonling.
[17:03:01:91] You have been awarded 393 Experience for slaying Level 18 Dragonling.
[17:03:04.09] Skeletal Tamer's Bow Shot strikes You for 31 damage (Physical).
[17:03:05.1] Your Death Bolt strikes Skeletal Tamer for 56 damage (Death)(Critical Hit).
[17:03:05.1] You have slain Skeletal Tamer.
[17:03:05.1] You have gained 455 Experience for slaying level 16 Skeletal Tamer.
End Combat Log.
Garath winced as he pulled the protruding arrow from his arm. The evening sun hung suspended in the sky over the Pacific, painted crimson by a filter of thick smoke rising from burning buildings as far as the eye could see.
The Skeletal Archers of the previous waves had been replaced for the sixth wave of The Culling by Skeletal Tamers with fierce Dragonlings. The subservient winged reptiles - roughly the size of an eagle - sent bolts of impossibly hot fire from their fanged mouths, laying waste to
the city at large. Even the sturdy brick school building had taken a beating from the fire breathing fuckers and, with the surrounding neighborhood ablaze, it was starting to become clear to Garath that The Band of the Hawk may need to abandon their stronghold.
Though the time reflected on his MENU panel showed 17:03, Garath (along with the rest of The Band) was used to Pacific Standard time - in which the same moment in time would be numerically valued at just after 8:00PM. The Band had been fighting for seventeen hours and, even for gorging on an actual video game in the comfort of his computer chair, that was pushing the limits for anyone. The luxury of frequent breaks and running water had been a Godsend, but adrenaline and the bit of luck they had were running out.
As the clock ticked toward 17:30, when the gap between waves six and seven would provide a welcome half hour of rest for all of them, Garath worried. For the first time since his apartment went dark and the first prompt appeared, he worried.
"I'm going to sit down," Garath said to the exhausted Hawks fighting beside him outside the doors. Another rest-break wasn’t exactly vital for the Necrologist at the moment, but they had already managed to get the hang of this wave. The trick, they had found, was to first bring down the Dragonling, making its Tamer no more than a Skeletal Archer like those they had already fought. Garath had also managed to keep a loose track of the Undead Legionnaires that spawned in the surrounding area and, by his count, only one more of the commanders was scheduled to respawn before the next half-hour break. He was sure the hawkies could handle it. "You guys alright here?"
"We're all tired, G. But yeah, we got this,” Warrion Jested. “You go on and take a break to do your makeup.”
"Thanks,” Garath replied, ignoring the jab. “Actually Warrion, see if you can get someone to cover for you too and meet me in the main hall."
Garath turned back and looked fondly at the scrawny, snarky Assassin and smiled. He had never really known Warrion even the two of them had only lived two doors away and had similar interests. Garath had never really had friends though, not in the real world. The closest thing to a friend he had ever had would’ve been another loaner gamer that went by the tag ‘Auto’. The two of them met playing World of Warcraft and had played through a handful of other MMOs together over the course of almost a decade. Yet, as he looked at Warrion - silently cursing himself for not remembering his real name - he found that he quite liked the snarky Assassin.
‘Who else…’ Garath thought to himself, smiling briefly as he passed the healers still flinging restorative spells to the fighters outside.
"Athios, Sharon, Gary, Raul, TodoroKen, and anyone not currently fighting at the doors - meet me in the main hall as soon as you can," he said over the Raid communication channel.
Garath arrived in the vacant main hall and started arranging the chairs, couches, and cushioned love-seats into a rough circle. Once satisfied, he took a seat in a chair facing the entrance. The chair itself wasn't anything special, just an old wooden chair. Sitting down, however, was absolute bliss. His bones and muscles ached and his head felt heavier and harder to keep upright than normal.
When Athios and the others arrived, they fixed him with questioning looks, but found their seats.
"God damn that feels good," said Warrion, kicking his feet out and sprawling into his seat. "Almost to the next break, G. How long, like fifteen minutes? If I start now, I may actually get some shut-eye... That's almost an hour," he said, mouth watering as he relished the thought.
"Yeah..." Garath's face scrunched up in a way that can only mean one thing - 'I’m about to hit you with some baaaad fucking news'.
"He's going to give us bad news, isn't he?" Sharon asked as she entered the hall with a purring Tarzan cradled against her chest. "And stop making that face, young man. You look constipated."
Garath made a different face.
"Well, that's why I asked you guys to meet me here.” He paused. “I think we need to leave the building. The smoke is getting ridiculous and we don’t know if this building’s going to hold up through another wave."
"But where would we go?" Gary asked, shifting uncomfortably in his wooden school chair.
"I'm open to ideas..." Garath told them. "But we could start by considering the Navy base. They have plenty of weaponry that should still be effective, it may be a good option. What do you guys think?"
"And just exactly what makes you in charge?" asked an older man that Garath didn’t recognize. The bald, mustached, and overweight man stood from the loveseat he had been occupying on the other side of the hall. Garath was sure they had met, but in the chaos of the last several hours - during which time the Necrologist had met dozens of people - unless something about an individual popped out, they all tended to blur together. "I brought my wife here because of your message, sure. But I'm not going to risk my life on an order from some punk like…"
“That brings up an interesting point, Phil,” a graceful, but severe looking woman of middle age interrupted the man. Garath recognized her as TodoroKen’s wife. The nameplate affixed above her head displayed the name ‘Heather#1717’. Heather stood up from her position on a long, deeply cushioned couch where she had been seated between her husband and their two small children. “My family also found this group from your message on the Community board, Garath.” Phil looked like he could pop any second, his face was so red. Heather continued without waiting for the man to say another word. “I will say that it has been a few hours since I looked at the forums. The last time I did though, there was nothing there from any kind of military or government operation. Now, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I find it pretty hard to believe that’s just a coincidence.”
"I don't believe in coincidences," Phil said, folding his arms at Garath and huffing as he swelled with his own self-importance.
"Then you're an idiot," Heather replied calmly, her expression unchanging and unreadable. Garath couldn't help smiling, the man basically just agreed with her and she called him an idiot.
"What is it, exactly, that you're implying anyways?" asked Garath's neighbor, Sarah. She was looking at Heather from the far side of the hall. Sarah looked confused by her own question for a second, and then clarified. "About the coincidence, I mean. You were pretty clear with the second part."
"What I was implying is that, regardless of the situation, the government desperately clings to its control over its citizens. If there haven't been any orders from them, the only explanation can be that nobody is left to give them." Heather sat down. She had made her point.
Garath now understood just a little bit more about TodoroKen. Heather was a petite woman, but she had a towering presence that commanded attention and demanded respect. Garath had never been married, but even he may have hid the time he wasted on video games from this woman.
“Heather’s got a point,” Garath agreed. “But even if everyone there is dead, the Navy base may still be our best option. It was literally designed to be defended, the buildings are concrete, and we may even be able to pick up some guns and ammunition."
"Why do we need to leave at all?" Sharon asked. "It seems to me like we have a pretty good thing going here."
"Well it's just a theory," replied Garath speculatively, "but each wave has been more destructive than the last, and I don't mean just to humans. First it was just skeletons, then archers, then magic users, then those little fire breathing dragons? I'm noticing a pattern here, aren't you? Will this building hold up for two more waves? Do you want your kids to be inside it if it can't?"
“I am with Sharon,” said Almaria, the uncomfortably pregnant hispanic woman. “The messages that have come to my brain says that billions of people has died. We are alive. It is not good for us to leave.”
The Culling of Man: A litrpg adventure (Peril's Prodigy Book 1) Page 13