by Neven Iliev
“My word!” she exclaimed in awe. “You have yourself an Artifact there!”
“A what-now?”
“You don’t know what an Artifact is?!”
“I… had an unpleasant encounter with a demon recently and forgot some things.”
Boxxy had internally classified this response as ‘Ignorance Excuse B.’
“Oh, I see. No worries, I’ll explain everything. Let me just get a form.”
A short trip to her desk and a quick bout of scribbling later she returned to her seat on the couch. She patted the cushion next to her, inviting Chester to get a better look at the piece of paper in her hands, an offer it readily accepted.
Name: Voidcaller
Maker: Sthulmir Grarabraarm
Type: Staff
Quality: Artifact
Offense: C
Defense: E+
Durability: AA+
Magic Amplification: 10% All, 20% Dark
Enchantments: Greater Channelling, Greater Intelligence, Lesser Magic Resistance, Reduced Weight, Innate Ability
Estimated Value: Priceless
Notes:
An adamantite greatstaff containing the essence of a powerful demon, likely its creator. Strong connection to the Beyond; only those who have embraced such eldritch energies are capable of truly harnessing its potential. Heavier than other weapons of its type, requiring a good deal of physical strength to wield properly.
Unfortunately, it hadn’t learned to read in the past half hour, so none of that made any sense to it. It could, however, recognise the shapes well enough to tell that a lot of the letter and number combinations were the same as the ones that that Grimebeard fellow had given it. Barring the difference in handwriting, of course. That meant that the dwarf had actually been truthful, but that did little to help Boxxy comprehend the information it had been given.
“Can you explain everything from the top, just in case?”
“Of course,” Alea agreed. “So, the name of the item and its maker at the top are pretty straightforward. I have to say, though, this is the first time I’ve ever seen a name like this. I’m not sure I can even pronounce it.”
“Must be a demon’s name,” Boxxy remarked. “How did you know who made it, though?”
“Most magic items are imprinted with meta-magical data. Think of it as a label that any Scribe can read, but nobody else can see.”
“Ah. Handy. What’s next?”
She continued, pointing out the words as she moved down the page.
“That’s the item’s Type, its official classification. It tells you what Skills and Masteries best work with it, this one clearly being a staff.”
“Isn’t that kinda obvious? I mean I got Staff Mastery when I hit stuff with it.”
Which, in turn, had given the pretend-elf a small but not-unwelcome boost of STR and END.
“Sometimes it can be hard to tell right away,” Alea shrugged. “It doesn’t hurt to spell it out anyway, so we put it on all our appraisal result forms.”
“Makes sense.”
“Up next we have the item’s quality rating, in this case a staggeringly powerful Artifact-grade item.”
“Oh! You mean like Superior?”
She hummed lightly.
“Yes, and no. This one is much higher. Want me to go over them all?”
“I would appreciate it,” the shapeshifter nodded.
The elf touched briefly upon the nine tiers on which items were graded based on performance. At the bottom were Unusable and Poor quality, which were mostly trash, followed by Good, Fine and Superior. Boxxy was aware of these tiers, as it had hit all of them when creating items with its Artificer Job. Superior was also the highest quality items that most common adventurers could hope to get their hands on.
Masterwork-class items were one step above Superior, and were usually created through the cooperation of multiple skilled craftsmen. For instance, a master Blacksmith might make a brilliant war axe graded Superior, then find an Enchanter to imbue it with magical properties in order to upgrade it to a Masterwork. There were also extremely talented individuals out there who could create a Masterwork entirely by themselves, but this required true mastery of one’s craft and only the absolute finest raw materials.
It was also the highest ceiling that the vast majority of artisans could hope to hit, as it took exceptionally special circumstances to create Artifact-ranked gear. These were truly unique items that could never be replicated, let alone mass-produced, so it was safe to say that Boxxy’s staff, which Alea helpfully revealed was called ‘Voidcaller,’ was the only one of its kind.
Yet, extraordinary as that was, there were two tiers above even that, namely Phantasmal and Divine, each class significantly rarer and more powerful than its predecessor. If the Artifacts in circulation around the world numbered only a few hundred, then there were only twenty or thirty Phantasmal items. Boxxy really wanted to get its tentacles on one of those, but it would appear that their owners were insanely powerful individuals far above its current power level.
The ultimate in equipment, Divine items, were unfortunately nothing but a pipe dream. They were shrouded in myths and legends, said to have been forged by the gods themselves. It was speculated there were only nine in existence – one for each member of Terrania’s pantheon – but history suggested that even that was a generous estimate. According to Alea, only three of the nigh-mythical items had been recorded in the Lodrak Empire’s six and a half centuries of history.
“And two of them were so powerful that they sparked armed conflicts with other nations,” she concluded. “Then again, this is the Empire we’re talking about, so those wars could’ve been fought over anything.”
“Very interesting,” Boxxy commented. “You sure know a lot about stuff.”
“Well, I am a Scribe, after all,” the elf smiled, tucking her green hair behind a pointy ear. “I wouldn’t be able to accurately evaluate items if I didn’t know a fair bit of everything.”
Indeed, if the Scribe doing the appraisals wasn’t knowledgeable in a great number of fields, then the results of their analysis would be inconclusive at best, outright misleading at worst. That was why Boxxy couldn’t have just asked that guy at the gate to inspect its gear.
“So, what’s next on the list?” ‘Chester’ inquired.
“Right. Next, we have the offensive, defensive and durability ratings: how much damage the item can deal, prevent, or withstand, respectively. Voidcaller’s offense is at C, meaning that it’s about as damaging as an unenchanted steel war hammer, and defensively it’s at E+, which is pretty terrible. Not surprising, since you can’t block much with it and it has nothing to diffuse the impact of a blow.”
“So… it’s a terrible weapon?”
“Relatively, yes, but still better than the double-Fs most staves receive in that category. Oh, and I should mention that the offensive rating is purely in terms of physical damage. The staff’s ability to boost magic is not factored into it.”
“Alright. And what does the durability rating mean?”
“Double-A plus means that it’s practically indestructible. Like, a dragon could probably step on this thing and it would barely make a dent. I mean, it’s made of adamantite.”
Now there was a word Boxxy was familiar with. To its knowledge, adamantite was considered the ultimate metal in both hardiness and weight. It had assumed that the material would be shinier, though, not this thoroughly unappetising pitch-black.
“Next, we have magic amplification,” the elf continued. “Ten percent to all Spells and twenty percent to darkness-based Spells is extremely good, by the way. You don’t see these kinds of numbers on anything below Artifact. At least, not at the same time.”
“Is it just Spells? Does it amplify Skill damage, too?”
“Yes, assuming that they directly deal elemental damage,” she nodded.
This was good to know, as damaging Skills didn’t scale with INT in the same way that Spells did. That meant tha
t they would likely only fall behind its other means of killing as Boxxy’s Level continued to climb. Admittedly, at present that applied only to Acid Spray, but it was nonetheless good information to have when considering future Skill choices.
“Next, you have your passive enchantments,” Alea stated, beginning to list them off. “Greater Channelling cuts ten percent off your Spell costs. Greater Intelligence is a passive boost of twenty-five INT points. Lesser Magic Resistance reduces all magic damage taken by five percent. Reduced Weight makes the item three times lighter, which is kind of necessary for adamantite gear. I doubt even your… powerful arms… could lift this thing without that.”
Feeling a bit daring, she decided to test the waters by throwing an arm around Chester’s shoulder. Boxxy was at first rather confused by her action, but it quickly remembered one of Snack’s lessons. Handshakes, salutes, waves and other hand-based gestures were meant to be reciprocated, firmly whenever possible. As such, it returned the gesture and held Alea tightly, causing her to blush.
“Th-the, um, the Innate Ability,” she tried to continue, “it’s like an item-based Skill, something unique to Artifacts and higher, but not all have one.”
“Oh? What’s mine do?”
“I’m not sure, but you can find out by activating it.”
“How do I do that?”
“Typically, you grab the item and start channeling your mana into it until it’s fully charged, at which point it should activate and- What are you doing?”
Before Alea could stop it, Boxxy had stood from the couch, gripping Voidcaller with both hands. Fizzy had already taught it how to channel its mana when she had showed it how to use a mana-fuelled welding torch, but it hadn’t even considered trying to use it with the un-shiny thing. And now that it tried, it discovered that the staff was thirsty.
“C-could you not do anything unnecessary?!”
Boxxy ignored her complaints and channelled precisely 666 MP into the weapon. The ornamental skull’s jawbone rattled as though it were trying to come alive, its four jeweled eye sockets glowing intensely. At first, nothing seemed to happen, but it was suddenly struck by the strangest urge to summon something. Deciding to see the experiment through, it dismissed Snack, then activated Summon Familiar to bring her back.
But what transpired next differed vastly from the usual spinning concentric circles of light. Instead, a number of things happened at almost exactly the same time, starting with the appearance of an oval-shaped portal of bright red energy directly in front of Boxxy. A gust of wind followed, strong enough to scatter most of Alea’s paperwork and belongings around her office workshop. A blue-skinned succubus fell through the person-sized interdimensional doorway, landing in confused disorientation on the nearby coffee table.
The arcane energy and erratic air currents faded a few moments later, less than a second after the whole thing had begun.
“What! The fuck! Are you doing!” Alea finally managed to shriek.
“Uh… testing?” the not-an-elf replied dumbly.
“You don’t just do that in someone’s workplace!” she continued shouting. “Especially not-”
“Ugh… Master?” Xera grumbled, rising to her feet.
“Is that a succubus?! Really?!”
“She’s my familiar. She burns things real good.”
“I don’t care! I want you to-!”
“Sleep.”
Xera did what she did best and pacified the situation through underhanded means, putting the woman under her Spell. Alea collapsed on the couch, and Xera busily began altering her short-term memories with her Dreamweaver Skill. She didn’t even have to ask what was going on, as she knew her master well enough to understand the gist of it.
“Snack. Tell me what this says.”
Boxxy shoved the appraisal report in front of her face and she read the whole thing out for it as she continued to mess with the elf woman’s brain. She was a skilled multitasker though, so she was able to give it the information it wanted without any issue. Once everything was settled, she was sent back to the Beyond so that her box-brained master could resume its meeting a few seconds prior to everything going to shit.
… Business as usual, in other words.
“C-could you not do anything unnecessary?” the elf repeated herself after abruptly waking up.
“I apologise, I got a bit excited,” Boxxy bowed its head, then sat back down.
“It’s not as though I don’t understand, but please keep your surroundings in mind.”
“Of course. I’ll test this later in a safer space.”
And when it did, it would realise that Voidcaller had the ability to summon either of its familiars instantly and at only a fraction of the MP cost. And despite spending significantly less MP on conjuring their bodies, both Snack and Arms would still arrive at full strength with no apparent negative side effects, other than a brief moment of disorientation. It was an ability best used in emergency situations, in which one or both of its familiars died in combat. However, it would have to be used sparingly, as Voidcaller’s summoning empowerment could only be activated once every two hours.
Once it had finished testing the Artifact’s limits, Boxxy would finally start to question how, exactly, it had come into possession of the staff. It was so perfect for the shapeshifter’s peculiar take on the Warlock Job that it almost felt as though it had been custom made just for it. If this had happened earlier, it would have attributed its acquisition to good fortune and that would have been the end of it. However, it was currently beholden to a Goddess of Chance, so it couldn’t help but ponder the possibility of interference on her part. Indeed, it would be impossible not to at least suspect Willy’s involvement in the matter, considering that it was his recruitment that had set the whole thing into motion.
Then again, as the god himself had said, a prediction was not the same as a prophecy. There existed in all things an element of randomness and uncertainty, and no outcome was truly one hundred percent certain. He had also mentioned that he despised having to interfere directly, since that would make things boring, and the entertainment value had been her only reason for making Boxxy her Hero in the first place. Therefore, it was also plausible that the ‘ganger acquiring the first of hopefully many Artifacts was nothing more than blind luck.
The fact was, it was ultimately pointless to question whether something had happened by pure chance or due to some divine plan devised by Boxxy’s patron deity. And honestly, the two things were completely indistinguishable whenever Ernesto was involved, anyway. It was impossible to come to a definite conclusion one way or the other, and Boxxy would eventually just accept the magic stick and move on with its life.
Such mental gymnastics were for the future, however. Right now, the shapeshifter had a far more pressing question.
“So, the estimated value says ‘priceless.’ Does that mean that I can sell it for infinite money?”
“… Hah! Hahaha! Ahh, that was a good one,” the elf forced a laugh. “No, silly. It just means that you literally can’t put a price on something like this. You’d have to auction it off if you ever wanted to sell it, but I wouldn’t if I were you. Even if you receive enough money to set yourself up for life, you’d never get another like it.”
Boxxy wasn’t entirely sure what to think about that.
“… Can you appraise another item for me?”
“Of course, Chester. I’d be delighted to.”
“Hold on, let me go get it.”
It left the office in a bit of a hurry, leaving Alea alone with her thoughts. Now that she was no longer distracted by the strangely-hunky youngster, she couldn’t help but notice that things seemed a little off. Although Snack and Boxxy had done their best to put everything back to where it had been while she’d been asleep, they had failed to do a very good job of it. Thankfully, the false elf returned before the Scribe could put two and two together, dragging a ridiculous-looking thing along by the shoulder.
“Hi, I’m back,” it sai
d casually.
“I can see that. And what, uh, have you got there?”
“This is Fizzy. She’s my golem. She talks.”
“Hi,” the steel Paladin said dully, giving the woman a lazy wave.
“Oh, that’s the one everyone’s been losing their marbles over, huh?” Alea stood to take a closer look. “She does look extremely lifelike. Wait, is this the item you wanted appraised?”
“No, just the shield,” Boxxy clarified.
“Look, can we get this over with?” Fizzy demanded. “Those idiots down there don’t know a bi-directional spark-plug from a Hopperback connector circuit, and I do not trust them to handle that order by themselves.”
“Sure, I’ll be just a moment. Care to show me the- ooooooookay! That’s a cursed item, isn’t it?”
She had barely even had to look at the article to guess what was wrong with it.
“It is. That’s why I’m having the gnome use it. Golem!” Boxxy quickly corrected itself. “I meant golem. Not gnome.”
“Ugh, whatever. Just… let me see it.”
Alea seemed unwilling to touch the profane object for even the few seconds necessary to complete the evaluation, but she forced herself to do it. Once the examination was complete, she headed to the sink next to her enchanter’s station to scrub her hands thoroughly while Fizzy returned to the smithy. The elf took another appraisal form and filled it out before presenting it to Boxxy.
Name: Left Hand of the Forsaken Sentinel
Maker: Unknown
Type: Plate Armour
Quality: Artifact
Offense: D
Defense: B+
Durability: A
Magic Amplification: None
Enchantments: Enhanced Durability, Self-Repair, Well Fitted, Lesser Lightning Resistance, Curse of the Steelshaper
Estimated Value: Priceless
Notes:
An ancient gauntlet from an age long past, forged from mithril-enriched steel alloy and fortified with magic. Supremely well-crafted, has survived the passage of time as well as numerous battles with no permanent damage. A terrible power dwells within, for it still bears the grudge of its former wielder.
The creature was only slightly less clueless this time around, as it already knew what each field said, as well as the shape of at least some of the words. It was able to recognise that there was no ‘Innate Ability’ to the gauntlet, which was unfortunate, though it was still ‘Priceless,’ at the very least. As far as the enchantments went, Alea was kind enough to explain each of them, as she had done with the staff.