by John L. Monk
Item Type: Relic
+50% Agility
+50% Strength
+50% Vitality
+50% Intelligence
+50% Comeliness
Description: Hundreds of years ago, back when people thought smoking was unhealthy unless it was called “medicine,” a man named Nelson was discovered living isolated in a place called the Chicopee woods. Soon after rejoining society, people began accusing him of various crimes, none of which he’d committed. But because of his social isolation, every time he tried defending himself, nobody could understand the words he used.
Nel, as they called him, had been raised alone by his showoff father—a stuffy professor-type who liked to use big fancy words. As a result, Nel never learned himself to talk good like the rest of us others.
Eventually, things came to a head. He was arrested and charged with the high crime of loitering, to which he could offer no intelligible defense.
At the conclusion of his trial, Nel said, “Alas! I am but a poor pusillanimous sesquipedalian, falsely deracinated for inveterate mendaciousness and calumny, erroneously persecuted as a licentious miscreant by a metagrabolised populace. Please show solicitousness, you utterly, utterly, awful people!”
Well, that did it.
The jury, not being cursed with a fancy vocabulary, failed to realize he’d used the word “awful” as a compliment, and not as an insult. All he’d meant to say was they “filled him with awe.” And they did! He’d always admired these lowbrow simpletons and their provincial affectations. But it was all for naught.
Sitting in his cell the night before his execution—for aggravated loitering—Nel folded his hands in prayer: “Oh, splendiferous beings of equanimity! The winter of my anagnorisis has arrived! Have mercy on this unworthy osculator! Assist me in transiluminating my meaning to that awful, awful jury, so that I may be emancipated!”
The gods, when they heard this, were just as confused as everyone else. Rather than admit it, they took a guess at his meaning and sent Nel the Ray of Sunshine, figuring he just wanted to kill everyone like most mortals.
The next day, after all the townspeople were dead, Nel reflected that killing awful people was more fun than confusing them, and he began looking for more to kill.
Alarmed, the gods modified the Ray of Sunshine so it’d only work once a week, but Nel didn’t mind. Once a week was just fine. He wouldn’t want to seem voraciously avaricious in his sanguineous divertissements, after all. Because that would be “bad.”
Fine print: Creatures successfully attacked with the Ray of Sunshine will immediately take 1/2 their health pool in damage. They must then pass a resistance check against fire with a -1500 penalty. Failing this check results in an additional 1/2 damage.
Exclusions: Gods, Fiends, Bridge Guardians, Champions, The Domination, all forms of invulnerability, and sesquipedalians.
“Now that’s what I call a mouthful,” I said, squinting at its brightness. “But wow... It’s an assassin’s dream!”
“I’m glad you like it,” Felix said, smiling happily.
From what I’d seen, it operated like a wand that shot fireballs or a staff that fired lightning. No wonder Elfie and Felix could waltz in and out of Ward 4 with low-levels in tow. If they ran into anything too big, they could kill it with this.
I looked at Felix and saw nothing in his face other than kind, considerate patience. The item was flagged No Loot, No Steal. There was nothing he could do to take it from me. If he killed me, I’d resurrect in Brighton with the item still on me.
Instead of that, I handed it back.
About ten seconds passed where neither of us said anything. Then Felix said, “Thank you.”
“Was that a test?”
“In a way.”
“To see if I’d take it?”
“Not specifically,” he said. “I wanted to see if your story about the Domination was true. My apologies for doubting, but as I’ve said before, we encounter all types on these runs. I’m still fuzzy on how you’d fix it, but I admire your willingness to try.”
“How does me not stealing your artifact tell you that?”
Felix shrugged. “Maybe it does, maybe it doesn’t. Just seems like the savior of all wouldn’t be a common thief.”
“And you’d risk an artifact like that to find out?”
“At the end of the day,” he said, “knowing what’s real is far more important than some crummy piece of gear.”
Odd way to think about it, but I couldn’t disagree.
Felix flashed me a wide grin. “Enough of that. Let’s go tell Elfie what happened.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The ship had been attacked by a swarm of invertebrate horrors like something out of a marine biologist’s nightmares: things that coiled, things that lurched, things that sprayed a caustic agent that ate everything it touched. The initial onslaught was so bad, Elfie had ordered the crew belowdecks over the objections of Captain Richards.
Felix snorted derisively. “Bet he didn’t like that.”
“No, he didn’t,” she said. “But after I killed everything—Temporal Vortex to undo the damage, then Dark Riot to set them against each other—he conveniently forgot.”
I smiled. “That is convenient. So, no executions?”
“Not yet,” she said. “Given that we’re not officially at sea, he seems to have lost his… I don’t know what you’d call it. Nerve? Footing? Whatever it is, I’ll take more, please and thank you. So what about you two? Find any primal fleckulents? No? What about derivative fleckulents? Any of those?”
I filled her in on the worm fight.
Afterward, Elfie looked at me with concern. “You okay?”
I shrugged. “It’s just a game.”
“You were almost swallowed alive! I’ve always been claustrophobic. And Mythian’s just evil sometimes.”
She was right. I might not have simply been swallowed, but trapped in the worm while it slowly dissolved me.
“He’s fine,” Felix said. “He even earned some XP—and he got a new item. Go on, show her.”
I smiled. “You asked for it… Blackout!”
Two things happened in quick succession: The world turned pitch black around us, and sailors everywhere began screaming in terror.
Cursing myself for a fool, I shouted, “Blackout!” and the world turned bright again. To the sailors, I said, “Sorry guys! Just experimenting. Can someone help Gulfrin over there? Sorry about that, Gulfrin…”
The sailor in question had slipped on the deck, upending a bucket of soapy water all over himself. He cast me a baleful look as his mates set him and his empty bucket aright. They didn’t look at me too kindly, either.
I stole a glance at the ship’s stats. The crew’s loyalty had dropped from 100% to 99%.
“Neat effect,” Elfie said diplomatically. “From the robes?”
I nodded. “Twenty-four-hour cooldown… Probably shouldn’t have wasted it, but we have to wait anyway.”
“Possibly not,” Felix said. “Elfie, I loaned him my healing ring and it’s used up. I’d like to see what’s at the bottom of that worm hole—hopefully before it respawns. Would you happen to have a spare?”
Elfie’s expression turned mock-tragic. “I do have something that might help, but nobody’s kissed me today, and I can barely think about such things whilst I’m so grievously neglected.”
With a smile, I stepped forward, puckering for all I was worth, only to be knocked aside by Felix.
“Out of the way, you lumbering oaf,” he growled. He then stood on tiptoes and kissed his taller wife, who leaned graciously down to receive it.
“Much better,” Elfie said in satisfaction. “Oh! I just remembered where my ring is—in my bag, with everything else. Here you go. I was going to loan it to you when we got to Ward 4 because it protects against poison.”
She’d pulled out a nearly identical ring to the one Felix had given me. I went to give it back to him and he said, “Keep it for now.”<
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When I checked the Active Effects tab of my character sheet, I whistled in surprise. Elfie’s was a real monster of a shield ring. It blocked 55,000 points of damage and offered a fifty percent bonus to health regeneration. It also regenerated to full every three hours and offered +2000 poison resistance.
“Wow,” I said. “This is a Ward 4 ring!”
Between Felix’s artifact and this ring, I was beginning to feel decidedly inferior. Even in my best days, I’d only had one good piece of Ward 4 gear. After losing one of my ten lives, I’d stayed away.
In a bored, aristocratic tone belied by a slight smile she couldn’t suppress, Elfie said, “ ’Tis but a trinket, I assure you.”
I bowed low. “I’ll be sure to return it, or die trying.”
“Enough of that,” Felix said. “Did you use the whole muffin?”
“Went straight to my hips, but I’ve got more.”
Elfie said, “We’ll also need to redo our revenge cake. Feelsy?”
Felix patted his pouch. “Already prepping the ingredients. Timers popping all over the place. We’ll be ready in time, don’t you worry.”
Elfie’s mouth opened in a long yawn. Afterward, she blinked and shook herself.
“Why don’t you get some sleep?” I said. “Both of you. Shouldn’t be another attack today. If there is, I’ll muffin-smash what I can and wait for the drums to wake you.”
Felix nodded grudgingly. “You’re a good man, Howard. We’ll try again later tonight.”
Leaving me on deck to stand watch, the two of them turned in for the rest of the afternoon.
As predicted, there were no new attacks on the ship. Before we left, Elfie refreshed my resistance spell and I ate another bran muffin. This time, however, I controlled my digestion and didn’t shoot into the sky burning XP like a rocket. Felix nodded approvingly, and we set off across the Tormegazonian landscape at night.
Our first night … and wow, what a sight that greeted us. Lookouts on the ship had reported heavy seas beyond the shores of the massive turtle. The swells filled subterranean tunnels, sending geysers of glittering water hundreds of feet into the air. This kept the landscape wet, bringing out the corals that had hidden from the sun. It seemed wherever I looked something glowed back at me in greens, blues, reds, yellows, pinks…
A cynical part of me wondered if the beautiful display was just Mythian’s way of lighting dark places, but I quickly dismissed it. The island seemed more like the work of a rogue designer who still cared about their job—an artist among corporate peons—and I silently saluted them.
Felix tapped me on the shoulder. “It’s just ahead. We should go in slow.”
I nodded. “Lead the way, Feelsy.”
We landed in the clearing before the big worm’s hole. The body was gone—rotted away or eaten by the strange creatures living in the encrusted shell. Felix and I jumped around experimentally to see if the core trapper had respawned, but nothing happened. Either it was still gone or the creature only attacked during the day.
There was only one way to tell. We had to go in.
Felix said, “Don’t worry. I’ll be right behind you.”
“But you’re higher level!” I said.
“Ah, but of the two of us, you’re the best tank, what with that fancy ring and my muffin. I’d eat one myself, but the XP cost for high-levels is miserable. Fear not! I’ll employ my other powers as needed.”
“I feel potentially safer already.”
The capstone was still open, which lent credence to the theory that the worm hadn’t respawned, but it also offered another possibility: that something else could have wandered in looking for food, or possibly a new home.
“No light runes,” I said after a few hesitant steps inside.
“I got it,” Felix said as he took out the Ray of Sunshine, lighting the way ahead.
“Handy,” I said.
The tunnel was cylindrical, mirror polished, and gently sloping. It also smelled of ammonia. The farther we went, the stronger the smell, causing my eyes to water.
“Wow, it stinks,” Felix said.
I quickened my pace when it was obvious nothing was going to spring from below and gobble me down. Felix, to his word, followed right behind me. We went like that for no more than a few minutes before the tunnel began to narrow. A minute more and we were stooping.
Felix nudged me aside. “Here, let me get ahead of you.”
“Such bravery…” I said.
Soon we could only progress on hands and knees. The tunnel was no longer smooth, but bumpy and jagged in places, and my shield ring was soaking up tiny amounts of damage. The stench was almost unbearable.
“Can’t … squeeze … anymore,” Felix said. “It keeps going, but it’s just too narrow. I’m gonna try a mining pick.”
“Good idea,” I said.
Having only recently started the game as a necromancer, I couldn’t use a mining pick to do more than scratch the surface of mineable stone. But Felix would certainly have the skill trained. If the shell were mineable, the walls would crumble into fist-sized piles of rubble when he hit it.
After winding up for a swing, he gave the tunnel a solid whack. A few flakes popped off, but that was it.
“Not mineable,” he said.
“Got anything to shrink us?” I said after he put it away.
“Nah. I could make something back at the ship, but… Hey, wait a minute. I just had a thought.”
“I promise not to tell Elfie.”
Felix snorted. “Let’s head back.”
As we returned to the entrance, Felix said, “My guess is there are more worms and more tunnels. At least one of them will let us go deeper into the shell. Question: When you fought that worm, do you remember if the mouth itself was armored? We could kill the tentacles and focus our attacks there.”
I thought back. “It had needle-sharp teeth that spiraled down like a meat grinder. No flesh to speak of, except for the tentacles, and they were different creatures.”
Felix sighed. “The teeth are probably invulnerable, just like the scales.”
“And don’t forget: The thing has mind control.”
“Which means you’re invulnerable,” he said.
An old joke, but I smiled anyway. It was good to adventure with others again. I’d almost forgotten what it was like to rely on people.
Halfway to the opening, I halted in my tracks.
Felix stopped too. “What?”
“Just thinking,” I said.
“Always knew you could do it.”
“What if we don’t have to kill them?”
Felix chuckled. “You mean we should make friends?”
“We could probably do it without your relic, but that takes time, and there’s some risk. If I slip like last time and can’t recover…”
“Noted. So what do you suggest?”
I told him.
Back at the ship, Felix told Elfie the plan.
“Interesting plan,” she said. “What sort of fire runes?”
“Any kind, so long as they’re transferrable,” Felix said.
Elfie sighed. “I figured as much.”
“You seem disappointed,” I said.
“Just a little bored, is all. Being the only class for miles with AOE has its drawbacks. But hey, at least I get to use my runemaster class for once. Leveled it to a hundred and stayed there for … oh, the last hundred and twenty-odd years. I keep meaning to reset it at a shrine.” She smiled wistfully. “I’d love to level-up as a shapeshifter! In a hundred levels, I could turn into a snowy owl!”
“Don’t forget the Trial of Pain,” Felix cautioned. “And that weirdo, Bite.”
Elfie made a disgusted face. “Don’t remind me. Anyway, sure, I’ll start scribing. How many do you need?”
“How many can you make per hour?” I said.
“Not sure. Drawing time … curing time for the transferrable parchment… I’ll know more once I get started.”
An hour later, we l
earned Elfie could create sixteen fire runes an hour. Each rune, she said, would blaze at a blistering one thousand degrees and last for two hours after being applied. When she declared herself officially out of transferrable parchment, we had one hundred and twenty-six runes.
“Is there a way to get more parchment?” I said.
Elfie said, “Not unless we can get off this turtle.” She turned to Felix and leveled a finger at him. “And just you remember, we’re here for Howard first and foremost, and fleckulents a distant second.”
Beside me, Felix growled jokingly.
Chapter Thirty
We found the next worm not because we saw it, but because of the giant balls of dull, reddish scat left everywhere, which we’d seen at the last lair.
Felix pointed. “There’s the cap. See it?”
I nodded. “Blends in almost perfectly. You get in place. I’ll bring dinner.”
Felix flashed me a quick grin, then soared through the air and landed daintily on a ridge just above the capstone.
I had to fly for maybe a quarter of a mile before I found a small swarm of crabs occupying a section of reef shining wetly in the mist of several nearby geysers. Like the others, they raised their claws in lockstep warning. An almost cute display, and I sort of regretted having to kill them. In the old days, my normal quarry when leveling had tended toward gibbering horrors no one would miss.
“Quit being a baby.”
I launched myself at the nearest one. With my heightened agility and strength, I easily brushed its claws away. I drew sharply on the muffin and smashed a fist through the crustacean’s perpetual frown, bursting its brain for 16,235 points of crushing damage.
ENEMY DEFEATED: Hulking Sand Crab, 6520 EXPERIENCE POINTS