by Jason Cheek
After several more trips, Zeven was struggling to pull out the last body, when he realized the skeletal fingers were still grasping the shaft of a large two-handed weapon. Carefully pulling the bony fingers away from the shaft, he scooped up the Dwarf corpse with one arm as he dragged a familiar two-handed hammer out of the entrance to the small intestines. Cradling the corpse in the crook of his arm, Zeven did an Identify already knowing that he’d found Sub-Mine Leader Thilaelydd Flintgrog’s corpse. Sighing heavily at the confirmation and the thought of Doufalynn’s reaction, he automatically ran an Identify on the two-handed hammer as a matter of course, nearly choking when a silvery script window popped open before his eyes.
The Devastator
Item Quality: Exceptional
Item Type: Crafted
Attack: two-hand blunt
Weapon Type: Hammer
Damage: 140-200
Durability: 186/250
Weight: 14.5 kg
+40 Strength
+40 Stamina
+40 Agility
*Has a twenty-five percent chance to inflict crushing damage on a successful hit that cracks armor and breaks bones.
*50% Chance on Hit of a limb to completely shatter the bone.
Zeven hung his head as he read over the Exceptional weapon’s details, while doing his best to ignore the greed monster rattling the door to its cage that he kept locked deep down inside his soul. While it was a toss-up as to if it were truly better than the Brutal Bearded Axe of Slaying that he’d looted for himself, he still clearly remembered how the two-handed hammer had managed to hurt Warptooth the Thunderstrike when the axe hadn’t. That alone made him want it. And even if he wasn’t into wielding such a massive beast, it would still be a damn good weapon for any number of his clanmates. A weapon with stats like that could easily put a person of The World on par with a Nightmare player after the last batch of Emergency Hot Fixes.
Letting out another heavy sigh, Zeven slid the hammer into his rucksack, telling himself that he’d hand that over to Doufalynn as he laid the half-dissolved corpse next to the others. While his clan could put it to use, he respected the sacrifice that Sub-Mine Leader Flintgrog had made in her fight to save the town. Without paying due honor to those individuals willing to do what was necessary in defense of their country, kingdom, or, in this case, town, then those people would stop coming forward. The least he could do was offer the respect those individuals deserved.
With that decision made, Zeven cracked his neck and got back to the work of sifting through the monster’s intestines. He didn’t know if it were karma or what, but it quickly became apparent that there was a shit-ton of riches stuffed inside the beast’s remains. Crawling around on his hands and knees, Zeven began stuffing handfuls of copper and loadstone iron ore into his rucksack. While both of those metals accounted for the majority of what he found, there was a smattering of tin, ten smaller silver nuggets, two impressive chunks of gold, and even six glowing lumps of cobalt.
It wasn’t just ore either, Zeven happily chortled, there was a surprising number of gems and coins that he was finding too. While uncut chunks of malachite the size of his thumb were the most common, he also ended up with a respectful double-size fistful of amber. It wasn’t only that though. There were four shimmering-red blood garnets, five glittering-yellow citrines, and even a lesser azura moonstone.
Those gems were easy enough for Zeven to recognize since they were basically the same kind of gems you’d find on earth. It was stuff like the two lesser mana accumulation crystals the size of his fist that he had no idea what it was. Hopefully they’d be worth some money too, Zeven thought, as he went back to scooping out the mounds of copper, silver, and gold that had grown into the walls of the intestines. He swore, it was like the Mini-Boss had upended a pirate’s treasure chest worth of booty into its maw.
Reaching the end of the intestines and what was basically the rectum, Zeven was staring at the nether regions … aka the Elite Beithir’s asshole wondering if he should skip sifting through it or not, when he saw an odd outline of something buried in the literal shit. Holding his breath, he carefully leaned over to hook one of the odd sides with a claw and fished it out. Using the walls of the intestines to clean the item off, Zeven held up an odd-shaped belt that looked like something directly out of the Wide World Wrestling championships. Triggering Identify, he was shocked to see the silvery script that popped open before his eyes.
Girdle of Stone Giant's Fortitude
Item Quality: Epic
Item Type: Crafted
Slot: Waist
Defense: 400
Weight: 2 kg
+60 Strength
+60 Stamina
Melmor Smelttoe was a Dwarf from the Smelttoe Clan captured by Mountain Trolls in the Dwarven Mountains and had all of the hair on his head burned off during the fighting. To his surprise, he was rescued by Stone Giants who took him in to be a part of their tribe, thinking that he was an injured baby giant. When it was discovered that he was not as strong as other Stone Giant children, his father crafted a magic girdle to give his adopted son the same fortitude and power as that of other Stone Giant children. Melmor Smelttoe was the only Dwarf to ever be friends with a Stone Giant tribe and was considered by some Dwarves to be a traitor to his species when he returned home to his Clan.
-Crafted from plates of brown granite and bound together with braided gray strands of Stone Giant hair. The large buckle in the middle is crafted into the shape of a hammer.
-Allows the wearer to speak, and write Jötunn, the language of giants.
-Allows wearer the ability to catch and throw stones like a Stone Giant.
-Temporarily grants the wearer the universal hardiness of a Stone Giant. When activated, the wearer's Armor Class is increased by a thousand points, is immune to all poisons, elemental resistance is increased by fifty percent, and hit points are increased by two thousand. Duration is for five minutes. Can be triggered once every twenty-four hours.
It was a freaking epic, Zeven mentally crowed, as he stripped off his mostly disintegrated leather equipment belt and strapped the wide stone belt in place as power filled his body. He couldn’t help chuckling at the title, Girdle of Stone Giant’s Fortitude. If anyone would’ve told him that he’d be gladly strapping on a girdle at any time in his life, Zeven would’ve laughed in their face, you know, after punching their lights out. Now though, Zeven silently thought, as he stood up straight while flexing his muscles and puffing out his chest, that it looked impressive as hell on his beefy muscular frame.
The plus sixty to Strength and Stamina alone for a belt slot was crazy in its own right, Zeven incredulously thought, let alone the whole fortitude of a Stone Giant ability. Even if it was only a five-minute buff once a day, it was a guaranteed win for almost any fight. A temporary increase of a thousand to his physical armor class, an added two thousand hit points, a fifty percent boost to elemental magic resistance, and an immunity to poison. If he couldn’t make it after all that, then he’d simply run the fuck away.
Even if the rest of the belt’s special abilities were just role-playing fluff, Zeven wasn’t about to complain. Not that he could see ever having a reason to use the whole Stone Throwing ability. Well, that, or the need to speak and write Jötunn. It wasn’t like he had any future Stone Giant meet and greets planned in the near future, Zeven thought with a chuckle.
Looking over at Warptooth the Thunderstrike’s rectum once again and the knee-deep sack of internal fluids the size of a kiddie pool, Zeven mentally suppressed a shudder at what he was about to do next. It was amazing how riches and fat loot could drive a person to do things they’d never thought possible. All that Zeven had to say about that was it had better be worth it.
Letting out a deep sigh, Zeven climbed over the rim and began slowly feeling his way through the pudding-like thickness with his clawed feet. It was the best way he could think of to look for loot. Sadly, there was still a lot more ore and coins here too. While appreciate
d, it really wasn’t what he’d meant about finding something spectacular. Though, in the end his diligence paid off when he came to the very end of his trek and his foot hit an odd shape item at the base of the large brown-puckered star. Fishing out the curved item, Zeven held it away from him, while he double-checked that he’d found everything possible, before making his exit.
Cleaning up the curved item, Zeven nearly gagged when he realized it was basically a horn that had to be blown to be activated. All that he could think of in that second was that the damn thing was going to need a thorough cleaning before he was going to be willing to put his lips anywhere near that mouth piece. Obviously, that was one of the worst negatives about being forced to scour corpses for your own loot, he silently bitched, while cleaning up the horn. Seriously, whichever game developer came up with this whole concept must have one sick sense of humor. As those thoughts were going through his mind, Zeven’s eyes widened in shock as he cast Identify on the object and another window of silvery script appeared before his eyes.
Mountain Strider Horn
Item Quality: Epic
Item Type: Crafted
Durability: 400/400
Weight: 0.5 kg
Snaldrugret Orebuckle was a Dwarven adventurer that spent most of her life wandering in search of new ores for crafting. During one of her many adventures, she was traveling in the northern hinterlands of the far frozen wastes, when she was captured by Frost Giants. Instead of being slaughtered for sport, Snaldrugret was taken as a slave once it was discovered that she was a Dwarf. One day, during her many years of captivity, she ran into a herd of Mountain Striders while she was out gathering ore outside the capital city of Jötunheimr. The entire herd was trapped on the side of the mountain from a massive avalanche that had cut off their path to safety after angering a spiteful Frost Giant Princess who wanted the herd for her garden. Knowing her decision would mean death, Snaldrugret still chose to secretly clear a path along the side of the mountain so that the herd could escape its death sentence. Due to her selfless act of defiance, the lead stallion chose to offer its own life in service to free Snaldrugret from her own imprisonment which allowed her to return back to Aeroch Nor.
*Instantly calls a Mountain Strider mount to serve the owner of the horn. The Mountain Strider's base speed is equal to that of a level one mount. The Mountain Strider can carry up to two humanoid individuals and comes with the following attacks: Bone Horn charge, fanged bite, front hoof strike, and rear hoof kick. Additionally, the owner of the horn can fight while mounted without any negative effects. Called Mountain Strider will return to horn if too much damage is taken. Mountain Strider can be recalled after a minute cooldown. The owner of the horn must be at least level 40 to call Mountain Strider.
*This item will scale with the owner’s level.
“Holy shit,” Zeven unconsciously exclaimed as he sat down at the edge of the bloody pool where he’d laid out the Dwarven corpses. Mentally triggering his HUD, he brought up the in-game wiki to search for any information on Mountain Striders. To his surprise, they looked relatively plain. Kind of like a combination of a mountain goat mixed with a plains horse, except they had an odd mane of hardened horns that grew progressively smaller as they moved from the animal’s foreheads back to the base of their neck. A good thing, since that would’ve made them unrideable otherwise. The wiki article said that they had the special ability to climb like a mountain goat and had thick tuffs of white fur around the base of their necks that functioned like natural armor against physical impacts and cold attacks.
While all of that was interesting, Zeven didn’t particularly understand why the mount was considered epic. Curious, he next pulled up the general information on mounts, which helped him get a better understand of what made the horn’s Mountain Strider epic. Comparing the listed abilities of a regular Mountain Strider against that of the horn’s, it looked to be basically due to the horn’s mount having the unique ability that allowed the owner of the horn to fight while mounted along with the unique ability to carry two humanoid individuals without any negative effects due to lack of riding skills. That, and from the common attacks listed for general mounts, the Mountain Striders had a unique Bone Horn Charge attack and were considered quite rare. Supposedly, all of those abilities were pretty unique for new mounts. While an epic mount was something more like a raptor or flying monster in Zeven’s opinion, he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth either. Besides, you didn’t cry about a mountain of loot and a free mount.
Letting out a tired sigh, Zeven was staring at the massive corpse when he suddenly realized that he’d never found the old Dwarf’s hammer. Wait, where the fuck was the thing? Thinking back to the battle with Warptooth the Thunderstrike, Zeven clearly remembered Borear Hammertoe dropping the hammer when he was eaten. With a frustrated sigh, he got up and began carefully pacing around the town square.
Zeven had already carefully checked the shallow lake of bloody goo when he’d been collecting the Dwarven bodies the first time. After shuffling his feet all through the bloody slime, he went to look around at the burning buildings trying to picture where exactly the hammer had been dropped during the fight. That’s when he suddenly realized, the Elite Beithir’s corpse was covering the area where it had fallen.
With a frustrated sigh, Zeven began carefully searching the intestines and stomach on his hands and knees. Thinking that would be easier than trying to drag the corpse away. Of course, he’d started at the wrong end first. It wasn’t until he neared the Mini-Boss’s upper chest that he found an odd shaped lump. Using his new Brutal Bearded Axe of Slaying, Zeven hacked a hole through the spongey stomach as a glowing gem the size of his fist became visible. A quick use of Identify showed him what he’d found.
Heart of an Elite Beithir - could be useful in crafting and enchanting.
Okay, while that was admittedly cool, that wasn’t what Zeven was looking for. Stuffing the gem into his rucksack, he continued his search while questioning if he’d remembered the location correctly or not. It wasn’t until he was at the mouth-end of the esophagus that Zeven felt the familiar lump of a hammer underneath the ribbed skin. A quick series of chops and he pulled out the old Dwarf’s smithing hammer. Holding it up with a sigh of relief, he did a quick Identify only to freeze as another silvery script window popped open before his eyes.
Shadowbane of Clan Hammertoe
Item Quality: Epic
Item Type: Unique
Attack: one-hand blunt
Weapon Type: Hammer
Damage: 200-260
Durability: 320/400
Weight: 18.5 kg
+80 Spirit
+80 Intelligence
+80 Strength
+80 Stamina
This smith's hammer is the symbol and weapon for the Chieftain of Clan Hammertoe. Besides being a bringer of death, the hammer also signifies the ability to create and build. The ancestral Dwarves that have wielded this hammer have incorporated a part of their souls into it. Their combined skill has created the skill of Spectral Smithing and has made the Clan of Hammertoe's ancestral weapon into an epic artifact that is unique amongst all other Dwarven Clans. Due to the phantasmic nature of the enchantment not being able to be seen by normal or magical means, the Clan’s Spectral Smithing skill has been repeatedly called into question over the centuries even if the Clan of Hammertoe’s crafting ability is considered second to none within the Kingdom of Sayer.
*Grants the owner of the hammer the mastery of Spectral Smithing along with all related spells and skills, including the ability to teach the skill of Spectral Smithing to others.
*Spirit Cleaver - Creates a Spectral Blade on command that can pierce any physical armor or magical shield. Does 500 to 600 points of Spirit Damage.
*Can only be used by a member of the Clan of Hammertoe.
Do you want to soul-bind the Shadowbane of Clan Hammertoe?
Accept: Yes/No
“You’ve gotta be fucking killing me,” Zeven exclaim
ed, breaking out into an instant sweat as he stared at the stats trying not to freak out. Three epic drops falling all at once?
“Okay … okay … okay,” Zeven muttered to himself as he read through the silvery script a second time, “this really doesn’t count as another epic drop.”
Still, it was freaky as hell. He’d never heard of any epic items dropping in The World up till now. Well, besides his Nightmare quest reward of the Spirit Lochaber of Chieftain Diongmhalta. Though, that really didn’t count since every player that completed their Nightmare start got one. The epicness of those items mainly had to do with how they leveled up with the player’s level and held the core mastery of the Nightmare magic tree of the player’s land.
While the two epic drops from Warptooth the Thunderstrike were pretty sweet, they were nowhere near the same level as that of the Shadowbane of Clan Hammertoe. It wasn’t just an epic item with the most incredible attributes that he’d yet to see on an in-game item, it basically gave the wielder access to a whole new Nightmare tree called Spectral Smithing. Zeven had to seriously fight the urge to just say fuck it to the secret quest “Bring Mutoline Hammertoe, along with the other surviving Dwarven children, and the smith’s hammer, Shadowbane of Clan Hammertoe, back to Aeroch Nor!” and just keep the smithy hammer for himself. Seriously, what could he possibly get as a reward that would be better than this?
“Fuck!” Zeven swore, breathing heavy as his mental finger hovered back and forth over the Yes/No option. Shaking his head in disgust at his own lack of willpower, he selected “No” and tucked the hammer safely back into his rucksack. He didn’t dare to actually equip the damn thing. Besides not knowing if he could actually remove a soul-link, Zeven knew that he’d never give it up if he did that, especially not when he could use it fight the triple “A” guild.