by Sean Oswald
His dad looked at mom then shaking his head, he answered, “That matches the notifications that I got. How much damage were you doing to them?”
Jackson’s face got red as he replied, “Only 10 points after their damage resistance. Except when I got a critical hit. Then it was between twenty-five and thirty, and once I had it pinned, almost half my hits were criticals.”
“Interesting, so you found that your chance of getting a critical went up once you had it immobilized. Hmm, well that will bear consideration. Right now, though, I am proud of you. We want to keep you safe, but it is a noble thing that you went to protect your mother. Now, let me show you the specs I got on these creatures from my Assess Enemy spell.
Shrubkin-fire variant, warrior type
Level: 17
Health: 345
After briefly looking at the creature’s information, his mom said, “I’m sorry if I don’t sound grateful. I can see so much of your father in you. On one hand, it’s impossible for me to forget my cute little boy, and yet, I can see the man you will become. If I am honest, looking back, you have been trying to take care of me for years. Remember how you used to always know when I was sad, and you would come and hug me just to cheer me up? Or when you heard how I was upset about that broken vase, and even though it wasn’t your fault, you spent all Saturday trying to glue it together?” His mom was smiling now. Laughter had replaced tears. “You were, what, six years old, and you made such a mess with the glue, but I loved it. I kept that vase. Did you know that?”
Hearing praise from his father puffed up his chest. But hearing thanks from his mom made him feel treasured. “You know I will always be there for you mom.”
“I know, and I just have to remember that sons grow up to take care of their moms. I love all my kids, but only of you can I say that you are my favorite son.”
They both chuckled and even his dad smiled as Jackson said back, “I’m your only son, mom.”
Then the moment was past, and dad asked him if he had gotten any other notifications. He checked and, sure enough, there was another flashing notification which he had ignored during the heat of battle.
Quest Update: Class Determination- you previously met three of the five requirements to receive the Ironwood Monk class.
1.Suffer repeated beatings which might end many a man without breaking your spirit.
2.Stand up for those unable to defend themselves.
Now you have met another criteria:
3. Slay a monster with only your fists.
Even mom seemed truly happy for him as she had learned the value of classes in Eloria. “This is great son. We will work on figuring out what the other requirements are, but trust me, as someone who had to work to find the right class, it is worth it in the end.”
Jackson couldn’t help but smile. Even though this was a life and death situation, he couldn’t remember the last time, even going back to earth, that he had had both his parents to himself for any extended period of time. It felt good.
“So a couple more questions for you before we move on. Were you able to handle those burning tips they attacked you with? I didn’t get hit near as many times as you, and I have both mundane and magical armor to protect myself with, far better than you do, but I can still tell you that they hurt like the dickens,” his dad said.
“I don’t really know why, but in the middle of battle, they didn’t seem to bother me. It wasn’t that I couldn’t feel them, it was just that I was so focused on what I was doing. Now that I don’t have that adrenaline rush though, I’m glad that mom healed me, ‘cause those burns probably would have hurt a lot otherwise,” Jackson replied.
“Well that poses another question. Do you think it was just adrenaline? Or did you go berserk in battle?”
“I’m not gonna turn into some raging barbarian dad. It wasn’t like that. It started with anger, but then I remembered something I heard earlier today, and it was like I could find my center. Does that make sense?” Jackson felt more perplexed the longer he spoke.
“Yes, it is a thing that lots of warriors of the centuries have talked about. Finding the calm in the storm of combat so to speak. It is also in line with you becoming a monk.”
“Okay, so that’s a good thing.”
“I think so. Now my other question. If there is more time during our next battle, I am going to want to enlarge you. It feels very weird, and I think we should practice, but I am also going to want you to use a weapon instead of just your hands. Are you okay with that?” His dad said. He sounded more concerned than the words themselves felt.
“I don’t know, dad. Fighting with my fists just felt so natural. I mean, I guess I can hit them with my mace if you think it will actually do more damage, but my Weapon Specialization is in Unarmed Combat,” Jackson replied.
“I know, and that is part of the reason why I asked you not to assign your stat or character points without talking to me, but what’s done is done. Now we have to help you be at your best in this dungeon. Especially, if we are going to keep your mother safe.”
Despite realizing that his dad was capitalizing on his desire to protect mom, Jackson still said, “I don’t think my mace would do much more damage even if I used the magical chain extension. And I don’t feel nearly as comfortable fighting with it. Besides, I can punch much faster than I can swing the mace.”
“Do you have character points left to spend? If so, I would like you to put some into axe,” Dave said.
“Um, axe? I don’t even have an axe, but yes, I have 23 character points left.”
“In all the chaos about dividing the raid party and which circle everyone was going in, I ended up still holding the Wind Axe we got as a reward for completing the first wing of the dungeon. It is a very light and fast weapon and has a passive effect which will increase all of your attacks. Since it is one-handed, you will still be able to use your free hand for unarmed attacks. It also has armor penetration, so it will get you past their bark skin. I know at this point that those character points are precious, but I really think this is the best way to increase your fighting power for now.”
Jackson listened to his father’s reasoning and felt that dad was looking out for him. In the past, dad had usually admitted when he didn’t know anything about a subject. When Jackson had first gone to him for advice about baseball, his dad had encouraged him but also expressed how little he knew about it. Dad had advised him to seek guidance from coaches and had also helped him find instructional videos on YouTube. If he was so insistent now, then Jackson decided he would trust him.
“Okay dad,” he said while closing his eyes to quickly assign 10 points into axe and ten into weapon specialization: axe. Go big or go home.
“It’s done.”
“Good, now take this. If you like it, I will see what we can do about you keeping it, but we do have to be fair with the other people about how we divide up the loot.”
“Of course,” Jackson said as he took the axe. The haft was about thirty inches long and was made of dark wood with a smooth finish, but it was not slippery in his gloved hand. The head of the axe was made of a silvery metal, and if you stared at it too long, you could almost see something moving within the metal like wispy clouds across the sky. The business end flared wide and provided a full eight inches of razor-sharp edge. Being a magical weapon, it was far lighter than it felt like it should be, sorta like some aluminum bats felt compared to a wood bat. Jackson couldn’t help but be surprised at how natural the weapon felt in his hand now. The knowledge downloaded gave him a good feel for how to use the weapon and made him want to try it out.
While taking a few practice swings with the axe and moving around to see how smooth it felt, Jackson was once again struck by the changes in his body. The stat points he had spent the day before had done things to him he was still trying to understand. In one moment, he had gone from an athletic teenager short of his full growth and not having filled out yet, to a perfectly muscled herculean. Of course, he realized tha
t he was now stronger than all but the most elite of power athletes on earth–all while still in the body of a thirteen-year-old, albeit a ripped thirteen year old.
“Are you ready to try out the enlarge spell?” Jackson heard his dad ask.
He stopped swinging the axe around and saw a peculiar look on both his parent’s faces but didn’t say anything about it. Instead, he asked the question that had been on his mind earlier. “So if you were able to see the little globs of fire incoming well enough to warn me to jump left, then why didn’t you get out of the way yourself, dad?”
A confused look took up residence on his father’s face as he answered, “I didn’t warn you to jump left, and I only wish I had seen the fire orbs in time.”
“But, someone told me to jump left.”
“What?”
“As soon as we appeared in this place, before I even saw the attack coming, someone told me to jump left.”
“Well it wasn’t me,” Dave said only to be echoed by Emily.
That immediately set them all to looking around for anyone else, but there weren’t really any hiding spots.
“Just let me know if you hear it again,” his dad said, and Jackson couldn’t help but notice the concern in his voice. Then changing the subject, he asked, “Are you ready to try out being a giant?” The grin on his dad’s face helped push down his anxiety.
Without another word, Dave started casting Mass Lesser Enlarge. Jackson shuddered as he felt the magic settle over him. Then his eyes bulged, and he grimaced while unexpected pain swept through him. His muscles swelled, the fibers thickening, and the bone thickened as well to accommodate their elongation. “Wow, that was intense. Does it feel like that every time?” His dad only nodded in a response.
“I feel amazing. So strong,” Jackson said as he looked around. His mom was so small. He had to be over nine and a half feet now, and his arms and legs were just as large. He pulled his new axe from where it was hooked onto his belt. It was enlarged to fit his new size. “How long will this last?”
“About four and half minutes,” Dad said before looking at mom and asking if she was ready for some more.
When she nodded yes, Dad held out his empty hand and cast another spell. Magical missiles streaked off his fingers and struck a pair of the same little shrubkin creatures. Jackson hadn’t even seen them. They had been in the vines along the wall about 100 feet down the tunnel.
They screeched as they were struck by the attack and were knocked from their perches. Now they were running down the hallway, and Jackson couldn’t help but be excited as his dad said, “I’ve got the one on the left.”
Interlude 9
Altracia the dungeon drake
Around the same time as Sara was feeling lonely and ignored outside, Altracia was inside at the very heart of the dungeon. She was adapting to her new existence. Her mind was now stored inside of a perfectly round crystal sphere even, and what had been her body lay protectively curled up around it. The dungeon drake had taken the next step in her evolution and formed a dungeon core to house her consciousness. The crystal sphere was flawless in its structure and would be incredibly hard to destroy. This is the secret to long lasting dungeons–a core which can control the dungeon and outlast the frail flesh of its original body.
The process had been instinctive and forced upon her by the upgrading of her dungeon. If she was going to become the master of a multi-form dungeon, then she would need the greater connection allowed by her transition to dungeon core. If before she had felt in control of the dungeon, now she felt it as completely as she felt her body. Wait, not her body. Her bodies. Hmm, it seems that being a multi-form dungeon wasn’t just about having different modes or sections of the dungeon. Rather, now there were three dungeon drakes inhabiting the halls.
Her original body was wrapped around the core, which was her mind and the true container for her identity now, but while it was the original, it was not the only. She also had a body that she felt equally connected to at the end of the survival mode section of her dungeon. Oh, and another at the end of the raid section. That body was powerful, imbued with might that she would have lusted after when she was still solely a creature of flesh and blood hunting in the Chenhou forest. If she had possessed that might back then, she would have ruled the forest. At least that was how she perceived the difference in that new form.
As instinctual as the process of forming the dungeon core had been, she was still dealing with the oddity of her mind being able to perceive so much at the same time. She could equally operate all three of the dungeon drake forms, something she demonstrated by raising each form’s tail simultaneously and then slamming them into the ground. Beyond that, though, she could feel the hallways of each of her modes. They were distinctly separate sections of her dungeon divided by barriers of spatial magic so that they never actually intersected. Altracia could feel the humans and elves and ohhh … a dwarf crawling through the tunnels of the raid section, but the others were empty.
That wouldn’t do. She, now better than ever, understood her purpose. She still burned with an animalistic hunger for the life blood of these raiders. She felt the symbiotic relationship she had with them. They grew stronger by gaining XP and loot within her halls while she gained as much or perhaps even more from them. She gained new patterns for items to create, new types of magic, and even by their struggles, she drew energy. Each of their bodies was a little battery of sorts for her, generating mana, Stamina, Teamwork, and all the other assorted types of energy. Even more, she seemed to actually draw energy from their struggles. It was as if she was powered by the very nature of conflict.
Thus, as a child who first taste’s chocolate, one bite was not enough. She needed more. She could sense that there were other creatures outside. Perhaps she could lure some of them inside her halls. Perhaps some of them wouldn’t be quite as strong as these in the raid hall. She might even get to taste that sweetest of all morsels, their death.
So with that in mind, she set about looking for a way to draw others in. They all seemed to ignore her. She sent out what she thought were waves of desire seeking to entice other beings in. Altracia knew that she had almost mindlessly done this in her early days in the dungeon, drawing in animals which she had consumed in the way of a dungeon. Actually, the more she thought about it, the more she felt like the pull of the dungeon was something beyond her. She had vague memories of luring in a forest drake even as another part of her realized that she was that forest drake. Hmm, the more she tried to think on that, the cloudier her thoughts became. It was a struggle to formulate thoughts. She decided it wasn’t worth worrying about and again turned her thoughts to how she could get more of these humans and elves inside her halls.
Then, almost as an echo, she felt something from one of the creatures outside. Oh, it was a desire to enter her halls. As she focused on that sensation, she felt how strong that desire was. It was centered in loss and a sense of abandonment. Altracia the forest drake would never have understood such concepts, but Altracia the dungeon core had begun to see the world in more depth. She knew more and felt more. Yes, this desire was something she could work with.
Every time she sent out a pulse of enticement, the small creature tried to come closer. Altracia’s senses were too dull outside the dungeon. She could tell that it was smaller than most of the other creatures, but she didn’t think it was a goblin. It had the feel of a human or perhaps an elf. Hmmm maybe one like the two hybrid creatures in the raid hall now. It was interesting to her that creatures could be combined to form a new type. At first, she had only augmented the dire hounds with some of her traits, but that had not been a true blending. Not until she had experienced the offspring of the one known as David Nelson had she understood just how completely two types of creatures might be combined.
Her understanding had grown even further during the offspring’s second trip into the dungeon. Even better, she had obtained a sample of the offspring’s blood. There was only so much that she could learn
from a creature entering her halls. The more contact they made with the surfaces of the dungeon, the more they struggled, even secretions like sweat could be useful; but blood was the best of all for it held the very secrets of life in it.
What was she doing? Altracia almost snarled at herself. She could in many ways divide her thoughts, and yet, when it didn’t involve controlling some aspect of the dungeon, she seemed to lose her focus very easily. She needed to figure out a way to get this little creature into her dungeon, not ruminate about her species breeding projects. The wolf-pigs had been the first, but she hoped that her new creations would prove to be more productive. Arghh. There, she was doing it again. She needed to focus.
Each pulse drew the little elf-human thing closer, but frustratingly, whenever it got within a few feet of the dungeon entrance, it would be intercepted by others and prevented from coming closer. Altracia thought about alternative ways to get the creature inside. The dungeon only had one entrance, so she felt stymied. But then it occurred to her that perhaps there didn’t have to be only one entrance.
With that thought, she pulled up the TMI menu and started looking at options. Ah, that one would work perfectly. She went to work.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“What makes the grass grow? Blood! Blood! Blood! — Full Metal Jacket
Dungeon: Bastion of Thralls - Sara Nelson, Altracia, Emily Nelson
Sara stood up. None of the guards were looking at her directly. The only one close to her was Krinnk. “Let’s go see what’s in here,” she said looking at her goblin friend.
“Oh noz, Sara. That be a bad idea. Sara told stay outside,” Krinnk fumbled over his words a panic rose within him.