by R. A. Mejia
Every time that I’d come to the fifth level of the dungeon, I’d been with Greebo or a team of hired mercenaries to help me level. But they wouldn’t be there if I competed for the Champion for the Gnomish Research Institute, so I needed to increase my solo combat damage enough to compete with the other teams. Being the same level as the competitors alone wasn’t enough. I needed to be powerful enough to survive and thrive on my own.
I chuckled quietly at my confidence. I was already planning for the competition when I still needed to prove myself to the Gnome Research Council that I was worthy of being their champion. “Focus, Repair,” I said to myself. “You’ve made the tools. Test them, modify them, and craft your way to greater power. The time you take to improve yourself now means less time to do so later. If they give you three hours to cut down a tree, you sharpen the axe for two of them.”
The reminder that I was still in the preparation phase pushed away the thoughts of future plans that may or may not come to fruition and I focused on the task in front of me. I placed the Blacksmith Hammer into my internal inventory space, ready to be recalled with a whispered command, and brought the primed and loaded rifle butt to my right shoulder, used my right hand to cradle the stock behind the trigger, and placed my right index finger outside the trigger guard--pointed straight but ready to fire when the time came. My left hand held the barrel up in front of me and provided the steady hold that aimed the rifle. The firearm weighed eight pounds and was the heaviest weapon I’d wielded, but thanks to the untiring nature of the Metalman frame, it didn’t faze me in the least. I could indefinitely hold the gun and steady if I needed to.
I spotted my target: a group of three mudmen about two-hundred yards away. There were marksmen back home who could accurately shoot much greater distances, but I wasn’t one of them. Not yet, anyway. I raised the rifle and sighted down the barrel at the middle mudman. It wasn’t more than a human-shaped brown blob, but I hoped that I’d hit and aimed for the center of its body. Mentally I was excited to see what my rifle could do, but my Metalman body was as cool and collected as the terminator searching for John Conor. My right index finger pulled the trigger, there was a moment’s pause as the flintlock was released and it struck the firing pan, then there was spark, a flash, and a loud boom as the minié ball was forced out of the barrel by the chemical explosion, spinning toward the target with tremendous force. My vision was clouded by the smoke from the gunpowder, and I stepped to the side to see if I’d hit my target.
Unfortunately, I hadn’t. But I had definitely attracted the three mudmen’s attention. They were already moving toward me, and I knew that if I ran now, I could outdistance them back to the safety of the entryway tunnels to the dungeon level. But I wasn’t there to run: I was there to test the limits and failings of this weapon that I’d made. I dropped the butt of the rifle to the ground, called a horn of gunpowder from my internal inventory, and poured it down the barrel of the vertically-standing firearm. I already knew the proper charge thanks to all of my testing of the experimental barrels and stopped pouring when I was supposed to. I called a cone-shaped minié ball and placed it down the barrel then removed the ramrod from the underside of the barrel and rammed it down the gun, forcing the ammunition and powder charge all the way down to the bottom.
The three mudmen, likely Brawlers, could cover the two-hundred yards quickly, but I didn’t let that phase me. I was very thankful that my mechanical body didn’t have nerves or an adrenal system, so when I lifted the rifle and cocked back the flintlock, my hands were calm and steady.
I heard a squelching noise and saw that the Mudmen were almost upon me, so I took aim at the closest Mudman. The trio was so close now that the muzzle of the gun was only a few feet from his chest when I pulled the trigger. There was a pause that seemed to take forever as all the flintlock pieces moved, then the spark, flash, and a bang. I knew that the smoke would obscure my vision from seeing the physical damage to the mudman body, but I caught a glimpse of a large red nine as it floated away from the monster through the smoke. I instantly dodged one of the Mudmen’s swings, and I turned and retreated as I said the command words to send the rifle into my internal storage, pulling out the Blacksmith Hammer in exchange.
The rifle disappeared from my hands and was replaced by the long-handled hammer. I stopped running, firmly planted my feet, and turned. Two of the Mudmen were only a few feet away, but the third was lagging behind with a large fist-sized hole in its chest that was slowly filling with mud. I used the momentum of my abrupt turn to add extra energy into my hammer swing and led with the wedged side, swinging it into the nearest of the two enemies. The wedged end of the hammer focused the energy of the attack, and the weapon penetrated deeply into the side of the Brawler’s chest, nearly cutting it in two and sending up a red seven from the monster. It was a clear difference from when I’d first tried to use my first or iron rod where the blunt damage was absorbed by the mudman bodies.
I forced the head of the hammer free with a pop. I’d damaged two mudmen, but the third was unharmed, and it hit me with a wet fist that splattered against the iron plating that covered my body. I took the blow and damage but ignored the Brawler in favor of raising my weapon against the monster I’d already hurt. I swung overhanded, and the wedged edge of the weapon came down with the full weight of the hammer behind it. This time, the weapon split the monster in two, leaving both halves to fall away to either side and a red seven to float away from the monster as I pulled my weapon free. Unfortunately, splitting it in two wasn’t enough. Mudmen were tenacious monsters, and I hadn’t seen a death message or experience notification, so I knew it would reform and reattack.
I was forced to the side as the unhurt Mudman struck out with a jab-jab-right combo and spun away just enough to avoid two of the three strikes. I took the third to the side, but spun with the momentum of the blow back toward the still prone and reforming mudman and finished him off with a last downward strike from the Blacksmith Hammer.
One Mudman down, I faced off against the remaining two. One of which was down to half health and still not fully reformed. I didn’t wait for them to come to me and charged the mudman with the hole in its chest and swung my hammer. The weapon made a swooshing sound as it only hit air, and I was left off-balance and vulnerable by the miss. The two Brawlers didn’t miss their chance, and their wet mud fists made slurping sounds as they pounded away at my sides. My iron plating helped to reduce the damage but it was still adding up.
Yet, despite feeling the heavy hits bend my iron plating and seeing my health drain with each blow, I felt happy. I could not tell if it was because this was the first real fight I’d been in after such a long time spent sitting and crafting or something else but I felt almost giddy to be in a life or death struggle. I raised the Blacksmith Hammer, swung down, and saw it slice so deeply into the Mudman that it was split in half from head to waist. The monster quivered for a moment and then fell apart as the accumulated damage ended its life. The last Brawler continued to swing its mighty mud fists, and while I took a bit more damage, my superior armor, health, and weapon left no question in my mind as to the outcome of this fight. With a few more powerful swings, I ended the life of the last of the Mudmen group.
You've learned the skill Firearms.
You’ve killed a level 5 Mudman Brawler.
You receive 25 XP.
You’ve killed a level 5 Mudman Brawler.
You receive 25 XP.
You’ve killed a level 5 Mudman Brawler.
You receive 25 XP.
I dismissed the last notification for the death of the Mudman and collected their cores. As I did, I thought about the results of my experiment and pulled up the descriptions for my weapons.
Good Steel Flintlock Rifle
Damage 8-12
Weight 8 lbs
Durability 15/16
Good Iron Blacksmith Hammer
Damage 6-7
Weight 6 lbs
Durability 9/10
The
rifle, though powerful when it hit, took a good deal of time to reload and could only be fired two, maybe three, times depending on the distance to the monster, before it came within melee range. The Blacksmith Hammer was much more successful as an up-close weapon than I’d expected. I knew the wedged end would do more damage than the flat side against the mudmen, but hadn’t expected it to be quite so effective. I’d taken out three Brawlers solo while only losing half my health. The combination of the powerful ranged weapon and the effective melee hammer was better than I’d hoped they would be.
Now, I just needed to improve my aim and figure out a way to increase my reload speed to make the ranged part of that combination even better. Still, it was a good fight, and I didn’t have to split the experience with the group and instead gained the entire 75 XP for myself. It was the first time since I’d started fighting in the dungeon that I’d earned that much XP by myself, and I was proud that I’d overcome an enemy that I’d had such trouble with at first. But, more so, I was proud that all the time I’d taken to learn a craft and develop a particular weapon had paid off. I knew that I could still do better, but this was the first step in proving how powerful a mechanical crafter could be.
Chapter 19 - Goblin Conversation
I left the dungeon to meet up with Greebo after I finished the experiment. I’d spent quite a bit of time recently learning these crafting skills and neglected my friend a little. We were to meet up at the Tipsy Minotaur, Greebo’s favorite bar, and as I traveled north, I thought about how excited he’d be to hear that I’d made such a powerful weapon with such good range. We could do some serious damage in the dungeon with his help.
As I reached the local watering hole and entered the front door, I nodded to the large Minotaur bouncer and looked around for Greebo. It wasn’t hard to find him since it was the middle of the day, and I quickly spotted him in the corner of the room talking to Gnarry, the short and chesty goblin waitress that he liked. As I walked up, I heard Greebo say to her, “Gnarry, my dear, can I get a bit of your time this evening? I’ve missed that thing you do with . . .” He didn’t finish the sentence when he spotted me approaching. Instead, he gave Gnarry a shrug and said, “Sorry, got to talk some business with my friend here.” He then turned the waitress around and slapped her ample rear. “Come back with those drinks for us.” She giggled and walked away to get the drinks. As she passed me, she gave me a friendly wink.
I sat down across from Greebo and glanced at the departing waitress and said, “Sorry if I interrupted.”
Greebo stared after the waitress, his eyes glued to her posterior. “No, we have an understanding for tonight.” He shook his head and forced himself to look up at me and laughed. “And thanks to you and your brilliant idea for mining, I have plenty of coin to spend on her.”
“You’re welcome, but you’ve been doing more work on that project than I have recently. Speaking of special projects, I finally finished that special weapon I’d been working on. It’s the best weapon I’ve come across for my level. It does eight to ten damage per shot and has a range of over two-hundred feet, though I’m not quite good enough to accurately hit something that far.”
Greebo’s eyebrows raised at the mention of the range. “That’s not a lot further than what a good longbow or crossbow could do.”
The news disheartened me a bit, but I continued, “But the penetrative power of this gun is hands-down better than a bow. I mean, I tested it on those mudmen and blew a fist-sized hole through one’s chest. It should punch through armor too.”
I wasn’t sure if I was trying to sell the idea to Greebo or myself, but he just nodded and said, “Ok. I’m sure it’s a good weapon, but I still prefer to get a proper spell caster or tank when we go down into the dungeon. The fifth level boss is going to be tricky from what I hear.”
“Well, I’m ready to go when you are. I killed three brawlers all by myself this morning.”
“Did you? I guess that makes me a bit more interested in this weapon of yours. Let me finish my drink, and then we can head back into the dungeon to see it work.”
Greebo’s beers came shortly after, and he quickly downed them one after another. I was concerned for a moment about him going into the dungeon after drinking alcoholic beverages, but he assured me that the two were nothing for a goblin, and he didn’t seem impaired in the least as we left the bar.
As the two of us traveled toward the dungeon, I asked him, “How are the miners coming along?”
“They’re doing fine, Bolts. I bought Manny the Defender class, and he’s been doing a bang-up job protecting the guys while they dig for copper. His class gets extra XP for protecting other people, so this kind of work is perfect for him. I’m glad we’re going into the dungeon. It’s been too long for me. I don’t get much XP killing level 3 monsters.”
“Good, good. I’m glad we’re investing in your roommates. They really helped save our bacon when you were cursed.”
Greebo turned and nodded, but I thought I heard him mutter something about ‘debts being paid.’ We reached the center of the city where the massive underground dungeon that was the heart of the city lay. We only paused briefly to show our adventurer’s guild plates to the guard, and then the two of us went right into killing Mudmen. We’d long ago mastered the attack patterns of the Brawlers and Mudslingers and could handle any of those together. Add in the use of my new Blacksmith hammer, and Greebo was already impressed by what I had created. But I wasn’t there just to gain XP; I was there to show off what my new Flintlock Rifle could do.
I saw the perfect opportunity after we killed a few groups of mudmen. I used Gust to clear another patch of fog ahead of us and had a clear view of six mudmen, including a Mudmage and two Mudslinger. The group of six were more than we’d normally take on with just the two of us, but they were just enough ahead of us that they hadn’t sensed us yet, so I had time to prepare.
“There, see that Mudmage? I’m going to take it out first, then the Mudslingers,” I said, pointing to the Mudman with the wooden staff and the two thin Mudmen beside him.
“And the Brawlers?” Greebo asked.
I infused a cast of Extended Air Blade into my right hand then pulled my Flintlock Rifle from my internal inventory space, loaded, primed it, and told my goblin friend, “That’s where you come in. You just keep them off of me for a while, and we’ll whittle them all down.” I’d thought about how to manage a large group like this for a while, and what it all came down to was preparation.
Greebo shrugged. “Ok. I trust you, Nuts. Just be sure to heal me up if things go badly.”
I nodded as I aimed at the mage from two-hundred yards away. I spread my legs evenly for balance, took aim, and fired. I was getting used to the delay between pulling the trigger and the actual ignition of the gunpowder, but I’d forgotten to warn Greebo about it.
He had just asked, “Did it work?” when the powder went off with a loud bang and a cloud of smoke.
“What in the Dark Gods?!” he exclaimed.
I quickly moved to the side, out of the smoke and saw the staggering Mudmage. The arm that had been holding the staff was almost gone along with his shoulder. I turned to Greebo and said, “Sorry about the noise. It’s a trade-off for now, although I have a few ideas in that area. The Brawlers should be heading this way. You mind going and distracting them?”
He nodded and then ran off at an angle toward the enemy, disappearing into the fog. I knew the monsters could travel pretty fast in the mud and started to reload. Powder, ball, tamp, priming powder. The quicker I got through the steps, the faster I could fire. I heard and felt my body being hit by balls of mud thrown by the Mudslingers, but I ignored it. I trusted my iron armor to mitigate most of the damage and focused on the steps.
Once the reload was done, I looked up and saw the three Mudmen moving closer. Suddenly, out of the fog to their right, Greebo popped out, short sword slicing through the leg of the closest Brawler, making it stumble as its weight was no longer supported by the limb
. Greebo stabbed the next-closest Brawler then turned and fled back into the fog, disappearing. The attack hadn’t done much damage, but it had accomplished its purpose: distraction. Two of the Brawlers turned and chased after Greebo, and the third paused and considered which enemy to chase after.
I didn’t hesitate. I took aim at the still-reforming Mudmage and fired. The shot hit center of mass on the Mudmage, and the monster’s brown body quivered before it popped like a water balloon filled with mud. The two Mudslingers continued to throw balls of mud at me, but I moved toward them and reloaded the rifle, making me a more difficult target to hit. I got off one more shot, which was easy to hit at less than one-hundred yards, and saw the satisfying fist-sized hole appear in one Mudslinger’s body with a red nine floating away from it. I instantly switched to my Blacksmith’s Hammer and finished off the wounded monster with two swings of the weapon. The last Mudslinger took four solid hits of the hammer before it died. I took eight damage but was still above half health.
