by R. A. Mejia
I thought we’d work together to kill the last two brawlers, but Hoofmeister said, “No! The last two are mine alone. You will not steal my honor by helping further.”
The threatening way he gripped his axe left no room for discussion. It was also hard to argue with his effectiveness as a fighter. Unlike me or Greebo, Hoofmeister had actual training as a warrior. He swung his axe with skill, deflected their attacks with the broadside of the weapon, and used hoof and horn to push them back when they got too close. He killed the two brawlers all on his own, just as he’d promised.
I used Inspect on the minotaur after the fight and saw that his health was only down a third despite taking a good bit of damage. I wondered just how much health he had and how many points he’d put into his constitution and strength to be able to solo monster several levels above him.
The rest of the day together went similarly. The minotaur ran headlong into each fight and refused to listen to either me or Greebo. He was a fierce fighter, though, and he had no trouble slicing through the mudmen Brawlers or mudslingers. But he had a fierce hatred for the mudmages and would ignore all other enemies to take them down first. He was actually too good at his job, as he left little XP for either Greebo or myself.
The next day, we met with another potential hire at the Adventurers’ Guild, Dadkrouta, a level five Punster. He was human and didn’t wear any armor at all, only a workman’s dark breeches, vest, and a hat. For a weapon, he had a staff. When he saw us, he walked right over and greeted us with a big smile on his face. “Hey there, you two. I’m Dadkrouta. I assume it's you two I’m looking for. Not too many other goblins and golems working together.”
I held out my hand to the friendly, dark haired man. “Yup, that’s us. I’m Repair, and this is Greebo.” I gestured to my goblin friend and continued, “It’s nice to meet you, Dadkrouta. Can you tell me a bit about your class? I’ve never heard of a Punster before.”
He shook his head and held out both arms wide. “Nope. First, hugs. I’m a hugger.” He then wrapped me in a warm embrace, and I instantly felt at ease with the man. He tried to hug Greebo, but the quick goblin kept dodging his attempts until Dadkrouta eventually just shrugged and gave up. “Well, that’s fine. Not everyone appreciates a hug delivery.” Turning to me, he said, “To answer your question: Pundamentally, I’m a bard specialization that focuses on magical buffs and debuffs through the use of puns.”
“Oh, a bard specialization? That sounds interesting,” I said, unsure if he was what we were looking for. Greebo and I had already discussed that we were seeking a damage dealer or a tank.
“Can you do any fighting? Got any killing spells?” Greebo asked, getting to the point.
Dadkrouta shook his head. “No, I’m afraid I specialize in weakening enemy groups and strengthening mine. I can do some damage with my staff, but I wouldn’t call myself a real fighter.”
Greebo and I stepped away from the Punster to confer privately.
“Well, what do you think, Greebo? I like the guy, and he’s not a mage, which means that we’ll have some magic with us.”
Greebo shook his head. “No, if we’re going to pay for help we need someone that can do what we can’t. We need someone to help us kill those mudmen more quickly, not joke them into submission.”
Greebo made a good point and I nodded in agreement. We returned to Dadkrouta and were about to tell him he wouldn’t be a good fit for us when he started to talk, “Look, I can tell from your body language that you are hesitant to hire me. Well, don’t fear. I’m willing to pay. Being any kind of bard is hard early on, but I still need to level like anyone else. I’ve never been through the fifth level of the dungeon, but if I don’t work out for you at the end of the day, I will pay you a silver for your time. If you like what I can do for your group, you pay me a silver and consider grouping with me again. How does that sound?”
Greebo and I could not think of a good reason to refuse. At worst, we’d walk away a silver richer. We accepted his deal and headed to the dungeon. When we entered the fifth floor, we explored the east side of the dungeon floor and eventually discovered a group of five mudmen that was a mix of brawlers and mudslingers.
Dadkrouta started us off with a pun. “One man told another that he was so unfamiliar with a ‘gym’ that he still called it James. The other responded, ‘Oh, you'll get to know it. Just weight . . .’”
I chuckled at the joke but my laughter was cut short when I suddenly felt more powerful, and then I noticed a brief green glow around my body. I looked at Greebo, who also glowed green for a moment. Turning to Dadkrouta, I asked, “What was that glow?”
He smiled and answered, “It's a group buff for strength. You should have one extra point in that stat if you check your character sheet. It’ll last for half an hour. I thought it would be the most helpful in the fight. Though, I could boost a different stat, if you want? They don’t stack, so you’ll have to choose.”
I turned to Greebo, who was flexing his arms and had a far-off look in his eyes. It was a look that I’d learned to associate with someone looking at their character sheet. “See, this is already going well. More strength means more damage.”
“We’ll see,” Greebo answered with a shrug. Then he pointed at the mudmen forty feet ahead of us. “How do you want to do this fight? It’s a big group.”
The monsters had not spotted us yet, and I wondered if they even had eyes or used some other sense to detect us when we got close. I knew from experience that the key to managing these monsters was to thin their numbers quickly. “The mudslingers do more damage than the Brawlers and have less health. We focus on taking those out first. You and Dadkrouta take those three out first. I’ll distract the Brawlers and keep them off you two.”
“Dadkrouta, do you have any debuffs to make this fight easier?”
“Yes, I have several. I can slow them down slightly or sap their strength or try to immobilize a couple.”
“Oh, that last one. If you can immobilize a few, it would let us focus on the rest.”
He nodded and said, “I’ll have to get closer--maybe ten feet--so I’m sure they can see and hear me.”
“Got it. I’ll take point and have a spell infused and ready to use to draw their attention after you pun them. Then help Greebo with whoever he’s attacking. Follow his lead, ok?”
With plan set, we readied ourselves. I cast an infusion into my right hand for Extended Air Blade and felt the fifteen mana drawn away from me. The infusion had no material components, so it cost more mana than the other damage spell I had, Firebolt, but it was more effective on the mudmen. I equipped my shield on my left arm and made sure the poor hand axe in my inventory was in good shape.
Poor Copper Handaxe
Damage 2-3
Weight 0.8 lbs
Durability 4/6
Watching Greebo and Hoofmeister fight yesterday had made me realize that their slashing weapons were more effective on the mudmen than my bare fist or my iron rod, so I had fabricated one before we started the day and was anxious to see if I was right about it being a more effective tool against these monsters.
“Everyone ready?” I asked.
I got nods of agreement from both of them, and I started to walk forward. When we were within ten feet of the monsters, Dadkrouta shouted, “What does a farmer say to the cows at night? It’s pasture bed time!”
I chuckled at the silly word play, but unlike when Greebo and I had been the target of the pun, there was no green glow over the monsters. Instead, they finally noticed us and went from blobs of man-shaped mud to moving monsters. The Brawlers raised their fists and started to walk toward me, the Mudslingers raised their hands, balls of mud forming in them.
I raised my empty right hand and faced it palm out toward the closest mudslinger and shouted, “Extended Air Blade.” A barely-visible burst of highly compressed air shot from my hand in a horizontal slash and traveled the distance to my target. The air blade slashed into the mudslinger just above his neckline, al
most severing the raised arm and cutting into its expressionless face. A red five floated away from the monster. The creature staggered back, dropping the ball of mud that had been forming around its hand. I’d been lucky with my aim and noted to myself that my version of the spell did much less damage than the one Harrison Freud used.
Still, the first blow was struck, and that shifted all of the mudmen’s attention to me. I raised my shield and pulled my handaxe from my inventory as the other two mudslingers threw their mudballs. I waited until I felt the impact of their attacks on my shield and then charged the two Brawlers. I needed to make sure they focused on me and not my less-armored group members.
The fight was a blur from then on with me hacking away at the mudmen Brawlers while simultaneously trying to defend against the mud balls thrown at me by the mudslingers. I took several serious blows, but my iron plating and shield absorbed a lot of the damage.
Any chance I got, I tried to steal a look at Greebo and Dadkrouta to make sure they didn’t need more help. But from the glances I managed, I saw Greebo almost gleefully slashing away at the mudslingers and the Punster bashing them with his staff. Greebo was doing serious damage since he’d figured out the best ways to disable the monsters, but Dadkrouta was doing little more than a few points of damage per hit.
As the number of thrown mudballs decreased, I was able to focus more on offense. Soon thereafter, I landed a wicked chop to one of the Brawler’s legs. A red five floated away, and the monster quivered before bursting in a blob of mud and melting into the ground. I turned to attack the last Brawler but found Greebo and Dadkrouta finishing him off.
The fight earned us some decent XP, but after I examined my character sheet, I saw that I’d lost a third of my health. It wasn’t bad compared to some of our first fights on the level, but it wasn’t good enough. I sat and started to repair myself using the wood and iron in my inventory then looked up at Dadkrouta and asked, “What happened to your spell? I thought you were going to immobilize at least a few of them?”
He looked abashed and answered, “I’m not sure. My puns usually catch at least one or two of the group as long as they can hear and see me.”
Then it clicked for me. I’d often wondered why the mudmen did not attack until we’d come within ten feet of them. After all, we’d often cleared away enough of the surrounding fog to see them thirty or forty feet away. Yet, they did not seem to notice us. I’d guessed that they didn’t have eyes, even if they had the approximate form of a human, but this confirmed it. “I don’t think the mudmen have eyes. They may not even have ears. They’re not stupid creatures, but I don’t think they perceive the world the way we do. That might be affecting your puns if they have to be heard to be effective.”
Dadkrouta blanched. “But then I’m useless to you both if I can’t debuff them.”
“No, your muscle spell was good. I cut much deeper each time I attacked,” Greebo said.
“I agree. That buff alone made my handaxe do as much damage as my better quality iron rod. So, don’t sell yourself short. Besides, I’m only really guessing that the mudmen don’t have eyes or ears. We’re doing well enough that we can test it out to be sure.”
Greebo agreed to continue with the Punster for a while longer. I think he liked the strength buff enough that he was willing to test things out. After I finished repairing, I checked both of them to see if they needed healing. Thankfully, they’d only taken minor damage since most of the mudmen had been focused on me.
We searched out more monsters to fight, and Dadkrouta tried several of his best puns on the mudmen: “What room can’t a skeleton enter? The living room! Your calendar's days are numbered!” Yet, after two more fights, it became quite clear that the monsters were not affected by his puns no matter what Dadkrouta tried. We worked through the day only facing the mudmen Brawlers and Mudslingers, but he just wasn’t much help without his puns, and he only had one buff that increased a stat by one point for a half hour that went into effect when he told us the pun. While we made it through the day, he felt so bad for leeching off our kills that he paid us the silver at the end of it. We wished him much better luck in the future and promised to look him up when we moved on to the next level of the dungeon.
The last adventurer we worked with for the week was Wraithwig, a level four lizardman Guardian. He wore almost no armor and only used a shield and spear, but his naturally scaly hide and his defense-oriented class made him the best tank we’d seen. On the battlefield, he used taunts to gather the mudmen to him while moving around to give Greebo and myself the best shots at doing sneak attack and ranged damage to our foes. Greebo could safely get behind the mudmen while they were focused on Wraithwig and sliced into them for extra damage. I switched to ranged attacks and used Extended Air Blade until my mana ran out and then switched to the crossbow that I fabricated from the trees on the field. If anyone got hurt, we paused and rested while I used an infusion of Minor Regeneration to get them up to full strength. I took almost no damage since I wasn’t the tank, and we didn’t have to waste time waiting for me to deconstruct materials or repair myself. Wraithwig showed me that, no matter how much armor I had, I would never really be able to take the place of a good warrior or tank. The only downside to working with the lizardman was cost. He was so good at his role in the group that he was in high demand, and it cost us 5 silver to procure his services for the day. It was worth it since we were able to kill more mudmen than we’d ever imagined, but it was not something we could afford to do daily.
It was disappointing that none of the hires from the Adventurer’s Guild worked out. Between being blacklisted by the Mage’s Guild and the limited number of low level adventurers willing to work with us, I wasn’t sure if we’d ever grow our group, which would limit just how deep in the dungeon we could explore.
In addition to dungeon diving, Greebo and I also worked to earn money. After each day of monster killing, Greebo and I would go to the copper mine on the third floor, and we’d use the poor copper picks I fabricated to mine raw ore. I’d then deconstruct the ore to get the copper, and we’d sell our haul to the Merchant’s Guild. The copper picks broke easily, but I could quickly repair them with my Artificer abilities. Due to Greebo’s massive carry capacity, we made between 9 and 13 silver each day and split the money. Greebo quickly finished his class quest, gaining the last class point he needed to get Scavenger Strength III and increasing his carrying capacity to 30 lbs. per strength point. The next class quest he took was Analyzer I, which required him to use Analyze on 50 opponents.
Over those days, we earned 24 silver each for our mining and repeatable mudman quest.
It was exciting to see such progress. On Earth, I’d only ever earned enough to pay my bills, buy junk food, and buy a few video games to play. Even on this world, when I first started out killing monsters in the dungeon, I had only earned a few coppers a day, even if I worked all night and day. But because I did not have to pay for food, lodging, or healthcare, I could save every copper. It was odd to realize, but after that third day, I recognized that we were slowly making enough money that Greebo and I could look into investing it into better weapons, armor, or even a business project.
After that third day when we split the profits from our mining, I took Greebo to his favorite bar to talk to him about investing. He ordered a yellow lager and a big plate of steak and boiled potatoes. I felt a twinge of envy as he dug into the crisp meat and steaming potatoes, but I found myself missing the taste of beer the most. I’d enjoyed a thick dark stout beer when I went to my favorite restaurant around the corner from where I lived, and as I watched Greebo drink his beer, I could almost taste the stout from that place.
I shook my head to clear it of my drink envy and began. “Greebo, we’ve both hit level 5, and while it may be a bit before we get our next one, the truth is that we’re doing really well for ourselves.”
Greebo smiled and raised his mug of ale, spilling a bit of it over the side. “Well, that’s only ‘cause of you
, Bolts. You made me my armor and short sword, and you helped me earn enough through our repair business to save for my class. If it weren’t for you, I’d still be classless, grinding away at monsters from the second and third level with my knife.”
“Thanks. But I wasn’t saying it to get appreciation. I mentioned it because I think we’re at a place where we can invest our money to work for us. The only question is how and what our goals are going to be.”
Greebo cut another piece of his steak and chewed on it as he asked, “Invest? You mean we need to be buying new weapons or something?” He shook his head in agreement. “I can see that. We could save for some good quality equipment. It’ll cost some gold, but we can make that in a few weeks.”
“No, we should be able to save that in a few days. That’s what I’m talking about. With my Artificer abilities, we’ve stumbled upon a unique way to make coin. I’m essentially a perfect smelting plant that’s able to take ore and process it into pure metals. That’s what’s enabled us to make so much money since the Merchant’s Guild pays more for pure metal than raw ore. Where we’re bottlenecked is at acquisition of ore--which I’ll get to in a minute--but, first, I want to ask you: What do you think we should do with our money? It’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot. What I want for my life, my goals, and how I want to get there. It’s become an issue for me since I got the notification for my class specialization. Do I just want to fight in the dungeon and earn XP and loot monsters? Or do I want to do more?”