The Mutated Rat brought its grisly face down to snap at his head, threatening him with its diseased incisors.
Plague Rat (Mutated) bites with its canines! Argo parries the attack!
Slash! Argo’s attack lands true, dealing 6 damage! Critical hit detected! Bleeding inflicted upon Plague Rat (Mutated), taking 1 damage a second!
Argo managed to bring his short sword up in time to block the rat’s attempt to bite him. This same parry caught the rat’s neck, digging deep into the flesh and opening up an artery. The only problem was that the fluorescent yellow blood leaking from the wound wasn’t quite normal. A few drops landed on the corners of his doublet, releasing a plume of acrid smoke as the blood ate through the soft material.
Argo cried out, pulling himself up while the rat thrashed at the pain inflicted upon it. Brought to a frenzy, the rat decided to throw everything it could at him—at least inflict him with a disease before it bled to death.
Plague Rat (Mutated) takes 1 bleeding damage…
Plague Rat (Mutated) slashes with its claws! It misses, dealing 0 damage…
…but the attack was a feint! Plague Rat (Mutated) bites with its canines!
Argo was taken by surprise with the Plague Rat’s sudden switch from slash to bite, diving inside the effective range of his sword. He dropped his weapon and instinctively grabbed the rat’s tumor-infested throat, trying his best to keep its snapping jaws away from him.
Plague Rat (Mutated) takes 1 bleeding damage…
Plague Rat (Mutated) takes 1 bleeding damage…
Plague Rat (Mutated) takes 1 bleeding damage…
They wrestled on the floor for several moments, the mutated rat desperately snapping its disgusting canines while Argo held on for all he was worth.
Plague Rat (Mutated) takes 1 bleeding damage…
Plague Rat (Mutated) scratches at Argo’s arms! It deals 1 damage!
Plague Rat (Mutated) takes 1 bleeding damage…
Plague Rat (Mutated) scratches at Argo’s arms! It deals 1 damage!
Plague Rat (Mutated) takes 1 bleeding damage…
The rat continued snapping at his face, but its sharp claws made holding on to it a gigantic pain in the neck. And dangerous too, with Argo’s already-low health further reduced to just 6 points.
Deciding enough was enough, Argo rammed his knee into its belly and kicked it away with all the strength he could muster.
Argo kicks Plague Rat (Mutated)! The blow connects, dealing 1 stamina damage and knocking the monster back!
Plague Rat (Mutated) takes 1 bleeding damage…
Argo panted, strained from the effort of the brawl, with both his stamina and health dropping down to dangerous levels. Stamina regenerated much faster than health, but his continuous struggle with the rat took its toll on his body. He scrambled, retrieved his short sword, and prepared to defend himself. All he needed to do now was just wait until the thing bled to death, and—
Plague Rat (Mutated) takes 1 bleeding damage…
Plague Rat (Mutated) activates Putrid Growth! Its unnatural tumors grow over the wound, causing it to recover from the Bleeding status effect.
Argo groaned as he watched tumors crowd around the open wound.
Plague Rat (Mutated)
Level
01
Health
08/30
Stamina
9/10
Bolstered by its recovery, the rat redoubled its efforts and launched itself at Argo, its clouded eyes filled with raw animal hatred for its tormenter.
Plague Rat (Mutated) leaps!
Argo was prepared this time around, however. He stepped back, let the monster’s leaping attack fall short, and positioned the tip of his sword right in the middle of its path. The mutated plague rat impaled itself into his blade, the steel sliding right into its pustule-infested ribcage.
Argo evades the attack, and responds with a counter-thrust!
Vital organ punctured! Critical hit registered, dealing 12 damage (2 crit modifier x 6 default damage)!
Plague Rat (Mutated) dies!
More toxic blood and corrupted guts splattered about, but Argo scampered out of the way before any could splash him. The Mutated Rat flailed disgustingly on the floor. It twitched one more time and released a final death rasp before slumping lifelessly on the floor. Argo panted hard and wiped at the sweat on his forehead as the Mutated Rat’s experience orbs drifted out of its corpse.
Absorbed 20 experience points (30/100 XP, 70 XP to next level)
Suddenly mindful of his surroundings, Argo froze as he listened for any sign of movement. Nothing… the brawling orcs were still at it in the alley, their roars and shouts drowning out the noise of his fight with the mutated rat.
Moving away from the wretched creature, Argo headed to the inner door of the kitchen to make sure nobody had heard the fight and was coming to investigate. No sound came from the rest of the house, so he went back to the table and took out a health potion from his ghost pack to restore his lost points.
Minor health potion consumed. 10 HP restored.
He wiped his short sword clean, using a moldy rag—or at least as clean as he could get it—and crept back to the inner door. He turned the handle and opened it just a fraction. Peering out, he looked down a deserted torch-lit stone corridor. He slipped through the door and closed it behind him, and as quietly as he could, made his way down the passageway.
Several rooms lined the corridor, and Argo peered into each of them. Most of them were full of garbage and debris, derelict like the kitchen, and he couldn’t find anything of value. A couple of times he heard a familiar hiss from shadowy corners and quickly retreated from the room to avoid doing battle with another Mutated Rat.
At the end of the corridor, he came to a flight of stone steps leading to the upper floor of the house. There was a chamber above, and he cautiously went up towards it, finding himself in a spacious, brightly-lit hall with multiple braziers illuminating every corner. Elegant leaf-shaped decorations had been carved into the walls along with exquisite reliefs of oak trees and forest scenes. The sculptures were caked in dirt and chipped in many places, but the expert craftsmanship was still visible and looked to Argo to be Elven in origin. This suggested that the house had been an Elfish villa in times gone by, before the bandits invaded and claimed it for themselves. Argo wondered who might have once lived here, whether it was abandoned or if the occupants had been murdered by Urzug and his vile band.
There was precious little cover to be found in the open hall, however. He couldn’t hide behind shadows, and it was far too easy for someone to just walk in without him noticing.
Mana
19/20
Level 3 Orc Grunt disguise draining 1 mana every 30 seconds…
Estimated Morph duration remaining: 9 minutes, 53 seconds…
Assuming his orcish guise, Argo strode confidently across the mosaic tiled floor. Swiveling his head this way and that, he came up to the fountain at the center of the hall. Judging by the rancid smell and lumpy black sludge in it, the fountain seemed to be used as a toilet by the residents of the house. There was a pair of mahogany doors directly to the left of the fountain and Argo moved towards them.
He was pressing his ear to the wooden surface of one of the doors—to try and detect any signs of life behind them—when the other one abruptly opened and Argo found himself staring into the face of an elderly and particularly ugly orc Shaman.
“What you doing there?” the Shaman demanded, his gums slapping as he spoke.
Argo froze, unable to speak. He was just about to turn his head away, stammer an apology, when he remembered what he was: an orc grunt. Orcs did not apologize, nor did they turn away in shame. This was why he frowned, and matched the Sh
aman’s glare with one of his own. Just enough defiance to uphold his pride, but no sneering or muttering that would indicate a challenge.
Argo (Morphed as Orc Grunt) has come under suspicion by Orcish Shaman! Orcish Shaman scrutinizes Argo…
…but does not see through the Orc Grunt disguise! Argo passes skill check (+1 experience!)
(31/100 XP, 69 XP to next level)
The Shaman squinted his eyes, and huffed in annoyance before hobbling back into the room. “Ah right, perfect timing. I never thought Urzug would get around to sending me someone. I’ve been whining and moaning the past week for an assistant, but does the great chieftain care? Noooo, he’s just too busy bashing heads in to listen to his Shaman when he says he needs help. Well? Stop standing there, bugs-for-brains, and get over here already.”
Argo relaxed a little and followed the stooped-over creature through the door, drawing up his HUD to review its stats.
Bogo Grubfondler
Orc Shaman
Level
04
Health
80
Stamina
40
Mana
200
Argo gulped. Orcish warriors were dumb, with low cunning and willpower levels, but a Shaman like this? He needed to be especially careful to avoid rousing suspicion. One dispel, one true-sight spell or something similar, and his Morph would get blown down to pieces by the higher-leveled caster.
Argo followed in and found himself in some kind of crude laboratory, where the tables and shelves were crammed with potions, bottles, alembics and other alchemical paraphernalia.
“Useless bumpkins,” the Shaman grumbled to himself as he meandered over to a huge cauldron that hung above a fireplace at the far side of the room—his filthy robe trailing along on the floor. “Not got one brain cell between the lot of you.”
Argo considered his options. If he attacked the Shaman while his back was turned, he might take him down before the monster could use his magic against him. He wasn’t a Rogue or Assassin, so he didn’t have a Backstab skill that would deal 10-times damage. He could only rely on critical strikes.
A sword thrust to the back would drain 12 health points at most, maybe inflict the Bleed debuff if he hit a vital organ. It wouldn’t be enough, and he didn’t know what kind of spells the Shaman had at his command. One control skill, like Sleep or Bind, and that would be it for him. Or heck, maybe a single damage spell would be enough to drain all 15 of his health in one go.
As if sensing Argo’s eyes on him, Bogo lurched around and glared at him. “What you looking at, grunt? I didn’t ask for you to just stare at my backside. Now get over here and clean up those instruments. Glass with glass, metals with metals, ceramics with ceramics. You hear me, grunt?”
Argo just pressed his lips firmly, scowled like an orc should, and nodded.
The Shaman paused and squinted his eyes, taking a closer look at Argo’s face. “You got a tongue on you, grunt, or did it fall off?”
Argo suppressed a shudder, pushing down his vocal cords and curling his lips up in a snarl. “Yeah. I hears you.” He wanted to say that he mispronounced on purpose to emulate the rough language of the orcs. Truth was, he just flubbed his line because he was too focused on lowering his voice to match an orc’s guttural response.
The Shaman snorted and turned back towards the cauldron. “I should have known Urzug would send me someone soft in the head. Never mind, just get started with the cleanup.”
Argo abandoned any thoughts to attack the Shaman and began picking up the scattered instruments. He peered at the Shaman as he fussed about a cauldron filled with a bubbling green liquid. A sharp acrid smell wafted up from the mixture, making Argo’s eyes water.
“You done with the cleanup yet? Good, now get over here.” Bogo the Orc Shaman picked up a ladle that was resting against the side of the cauldron and pointed to a pile of small round ceramic containers that looked suspiciously like grenades.
“Measure out a ladle of this stuff and pour it into each one of these, grunt. One ladle—no more, no less. Don’t spill a drop and don’t get any on you if you don’t want your skin to melt off your bones. Put on the protective gloves if you’ve got any sense.” Bogo nodded his head off toward a desk, one with a few pairs of oversized gloves on top of them.
Argo looked at the cauldron in alarm, but before he could do anything Bogo shoved the ladle into his hand. “Get a move on! Useless berk! I’d do it myself if my hands weren’t shivering like a breeder’s tits. Now get on with it!”
Argo nodded, matching the Shaman’s glare, before turning his attention to the cauldron. Bogo muttered something under his breath about stupid grunts and hobbled over to a workbench where the dissected corpse of a mountain goat lay, cut up for some unknown and unpleasant purpose.
With no other option open to him, Argo did as he was told. He dipped the ladle into the bubbling liquid and carefully filled up the first of the grenades, taking care to push in the little stopper that accompanied each one as tight as possible. A wooden box filled with straw lay beside the cauldron, and he placed the grenade carefully inside before moving on to the next one.
He had just filled his fourth grenade up when he noticed the iron bars in the far corner of the room. It looked like some kind of cell had been set up in that section of the laboratory, with piles of crates and equipment set up inside.
Argo’s heart skipped a beat when he spotted the fine array of weapons carefully lain out on a trestle table inside the cell. They weren’t rough orcish weapons made from bone and pig iron. No, they were a mix of human, elvish, dwarven, and even gnomish weaponry. Various enchantments and styles, shining different colors.
This was the stash he was looking for, guarded by the Shaman who was constantly skulking about in his laboratory.
“Ay! What you gawking at?” Bogo shouted from across the room. “Get back to work!”
Argo had been so engrossed with the cell and its contents that he almost dropped the grenade he was holding. He quickly put it in the box and got on with another one. The Shaman shook his head and carried on with his grisly work.
Argo filled two more grenades and then risked another glance at the cell. A thought struck him. He shot Bogo a wary look and cleared his throat. “Bogo,” he called out, his voice low and growling to sound as orcish as he could possibly make it.
Bogo was halfway through slicing open the goat’s heart when Argo spoke. He looked up irritably. “What?”
Argo lifted up the grenade he was holding. “This stuff I’m handling… can it eat through metal?”
Bogo snorted. “Of course, you idiot. My formula can eat through anything! It’ll chew through the hardest substances you can think of! An army of Paladins would be eaten alive by just two of them grenades! Why are you asking anyway?”
Argo (Morphed as Orc Grunt) has come under suspicion by Orcish Shaman! Orcish Shaman scrutinizes Argo…
Argo cursed his impulsiveness. He was supposed to be a grunt: all brawn, no brains. He thought fast, scrambling for a way to diffuse suspicion. “Me wondering why this ladle doesn’t melt. It made of metal, yes? Then why not formula melt ladle like Paladin armor?”
The Shaman squinted its eyes at him, his sneer turning into a thoughtful frown. He raised his finger, tracing glowing runes in the air. Argo pushed down the spike of fear surging up through his throat, suddenly worried that the Shaman was casting a detect spell of some kind.
Instead of his Morph ability melting away, the ladle he held in one hand hummed as a column of glowing runes revealed themselves.
“Neutralization spell, custom inscribed them myself. Not as if you could understand, grunt. Now stop wasting my time with stupid questions and just do what you’re told.”
…but does not see through the Orc Grunt disguise! Argo passes skill check (+1 experience!)
(32/100 XP, 68
XP to next level)
Argo groaned and went back to his work. If what the Shaman said was true, just one of those things could deal with the bars of the cell. They would also come in handy when the Manticore Crew got into the compound and started to cause havoc. Getting hold of these would certainly prove his worth as a Spy, help him play a pivotal role in the coming assault.
With renewed vigor, he completed his task as fast as he could and packed the grenades carefully away in the straw-filled box.
Spy: Reborn Page 16
