by R. A. Mejia
I smugly imagined the monster being impaled on the spikes and thoroughly expected to be able to snipe it from my perch, so I was surprised as a clawed paw reached up through the cloud of snow and embedded itself into the trunk of the tree I was perched on. I felt the tree shake as another paw reached out and grabbed the trunk, and the monster began pulling itself out of the spiked pit.
I realized I’d miscalculated how deep the pit needed to be and that, on its hind legs, the beast was more than tall enough to escape my trap. The evergreen twisted and cracked as the Yettaur pulled itself up, and I had to leap from my branch as the tree split and toppled over. I was able to keep hold of my Flintlock Rifle as I fell, and aimed into the cloud of snow as I got to my feet. My finger was already on the trigger when I spotted a shape moving within the cloud, and I fired. The explosion of smoke and powder only further clouded my vision, so I didn’t see the clawed paw swipe at me until it was too late to dodge. I heard the rip of metal and went flying through the air until I collided into a tree. I crashed to the snow-covered ground and saw a purple number float away from me. I was confused for a moment until I looked down and saw that my right pectoral plate had been ripped from my chest, exposing the gears and inner workings beneath.
I could only imagine the loss of my hit points from such a powerful blow, but did not take the time to check my character sheet as I saw the monster step out of the cloud of smoke and snow. I called out, “Firebolt!” and watched as the bullet wound burned. I then summoned my second Flintlock Rifle from my internal inventory, having lost my first somewhere in the snow as I flew through the air. The rifle in my hands was already loaded, though with normal ammunition, and I did not bother to aim this close. I simply pointed the barrel toward the monster and pulled the trigger. The bullet tore a chunk of flesh and fur from the monster's arm, but it did not slow down as it charged.
I desperately flung myself to the side and felt a claw scrape against my side as I fell to the snow. I quickly got to my feet and dropped the rifle and yelled, “Blacksmith Hammer.” My right arm split apart and reformed into the integrated hammer I’d put there. The process only took a second, but the Yettaur was already upon me before it finished, forcing me to duck under its paws as it attacked yet again. I swung my hammer and tried to activate my Bone Breaker ability as the attack landed but got a notification instead.
Insufficient Mana to activate that ability.
I cursed as I realized that the last infused ammunition I fabricated had taken the last of my mana. I flung myself backward to avoid another swipe from the monster. I rolled to my feet, but the Yettaur kept pace, and I was forced to backpedal. My back hit a tree, and I desperately spun around, trying to put the tree between me and the beast. I heard the crack as the tree took the powerful swipe that had been meant for me but turned and swung my hammer. It connected with the monster’s ribs, but only a pathetic red four floated away from the injury. The monster almost seemed to smile at the miserable attack. It raised both its arms up to slash down at me but then froze and tried to reach behind itself and spun in place.
As the beast spun, I spotted Parker on its back, digging into it with his shoveled front legs. Chunks of fur and flesh were being flung left and right as the mechanical spider attempted to dig into the monster. “Hammer Time!” I yelled as I swung my hammer at the monster’s undercarriage, splattering his dangling manhood. Then suddenly the Yettaur stopped spinning. It had a glassy look in its eyes as it wobbled for a moment and then collapsed into the snow, dead.
You’ve killed a level 7 Yettaur.
You receive 55 XP.
I looked down at the beast. Its white fur was stained with blood, chunks of fur and flesh were missing, and it had puncture marks on its back that were green from poison. There, still hanging on and digging into the beast, was my mechanical spider. I called out, “Stop, Parker. It’s dead. You can stop.” The spider obeyed and crawled to my side with blood-covered spade-like front legs before looking at me. I looked down at my little friend, patted the top of his head, and said, “That’ll do, spider. That’ll do.”
Chapter 38 - Day before Deadline
I took a moment to examine the damage the Yettaur had done to me. There were new dents and scratches all over my body, but the worst of it was the missing right pectoral chest plate. It had been torn away, and I could see into my own frame. It was oddly disconcerting. Even though my inner workings weren’t as wet and messy as an organic, I still felt vulnerable with my gears, pistons, and glowing blue core exposed. A quick check of my character sheet showed my health and mana levels.
HP: 22/52
Mana: 02/52
I counted myself fortunate that I was able to defeat the monster so quickly. Otherwise, another attack or two would have killed me. I’d expected the monster to be trapped in the spike pit long enough to get off more shots with my rifle, but there was no way for me to predict that he’d be so tall. It was an oversight that had almost cost us the fight.
I petted Parker again, glad that my instructions to him had gone through well enough. I’d seen what his shovel legs could do to the cold hard ground and figured they could also dig through a monster, but I had not been one-hundred percent sure that his shovel integrations could be used that way. After all, it wasn’t technically a combat weapon, and the mechanical spider did not have any combat skills yet.
I shrugged. Greebo had once told me, ‘A win is a win, no matter how you get it. It’s a very goblin way to think,’ and that definitely applied here. I’d used every advantage I could think of to prepare the field ahead of the fight, and I had won. That was what mattered.
After looting the Yettaur for a large white pelt, Parker and I left the seventh floor of the dungeon. I needed to buy materials to repair my chest plate. Honestly, Sandra Silverclaw had been right. The amount of XP per kill might have been higher, but it had taken me over an hour to find one monster and kill it. It was disappointing and frustrating. I needed as much XP as I could get and it just wasn’t worth the time when compared to the abundance of monsters on the sixth level. Going forward, I’d stick with the routine I’d established with my goblin friends and the Divas.
As I left the snow and ice-covered field, I felt the metal spiked snow shoes scrape against the stone of the tunnels that led out of the dungeon and remembered to take them off. I looked at the metal spikes and decided they would make a good item to integrate into my feet. They would provide great traction, and they’d likely do extra damage if I kicked a monster with them. If I came across something better, I could always replace them.
After selling off the pelt, purchasing my repair materials, I spent the next few hours getting myself up to full health and integrating the snowshoes. I spent time talking to my gnome handlers as I worked and they took notes on it all.
I’d wasted half the day on the 7th floor of the dungeon and frankly couldn’t waste any more. Part of me wanted to return to the dungeon to try and salvage the day but I did not know where my friends would be and I could spend hours wandering the 6th level of the dungeon trying to find them. Instead, I purchased as much iron as I could afford and focused on fabricating nails. I knew it wouldn’t get me anywhere with my class quests, and though it was truly boring, it was a reliable way to rack up XP. Thanks to the bonuses to fabrication given by my dexterity and efficiency class skills, by the time the sun rose the next morning I’d earned 2,789 XP for 16 hours of utterly tedious work. It wasn’t as much as I would have gotten if I’d stayed with my team in the dungeon, but it was something.
The next three days were a rush as I tried to squeeze every moment for as much XP as I could. I returned to the sixth level and the routine of finding ore, refining it, and killing monsters as they tried to mob our team. I begged my friends to stay for longer hours and though it increased the amount of XP I gained, it also took a toll on them. Unlike myself and Parker, they had muscles that tired and they needed to sleep and eat and each wave of monsters sapped their strength.
Despite the
extra time my friends sacrificed to help me, day 32 of the challenge from the gnomes arrived. The deadline for me to reach level eight was the next day and I had to report to the gnome council one way or another.
As the hours passed, and I meticulously killed every available monster the dungeon sent against our mining team, it became more and more apparent that I was not going to make it. I looked at my character sheet as the iron node our miners had been working at all day petered out.
Name: Repair
Race: Metalman
Class: Artificer Level 7
XP to Next Level: 6,235 XP
Weight: 140 lbs
Carrying Capacity: 165/180 lbs
Stat Points Available: 0
Class Points Available: 0
Money: 2 gold 89 silver 32 copper
AC: 15 (iron)
HP: 52/52
Mana: 52/52
I’d planned on bringing up the problem with Greebo at the end of the day and asking if he and the miners would be willing to work into the night to help me get more XP, but a single look at them told me that everyone was dead tired from not only the day’s mining, but from the extra hours they’d spent in the dungeon the last few days.
I briefly thought about spending my last available coin on metal and using every hour till tomorrow fabricating nails for the XP, but a quick calculation told me that still wouldn’t be enough to get me the 6,235 XP I needed. Yet, I did not want to give up and was about to pull Greebo aside to tell him I’d be going back into the dungeon with Parker when a young goblin ran up to him and handed my friend a slip of paper. Greebo read it, looked up at me, and said, “It’s time, Repair. I’ve gotten a message to meet with Tim at the bar. He marked it urgent.”
It took me a moment to recall that Greebo had asked Tim, the hobgoblin guard at the Scavenger guild, to look into who might be using their guild abilities to rob adventurers in the dungeon. I was torn. I knew mathematically that I wasn’t going to be able to reach the goal the gnome council had set. I don’t know if it was stubbornness, or some false hope that some miracle would occur would save me, but part of me still wanted to try. Yet the sad reality was that I wasn’t going to win this one. I shook my head. The words just echoed in my mind, ‘I wasn’t going to win.’ I didn’t want to, but I had to accept that I was not going to get to level eight in time.
But there was something I could do for my friend. He’d spent so much time trying to help me with my quest, especially the last few grueling days. I couldn’t leave him to deal with this alone, and honestly, an extra night in the dungeon with just me and Parker wasn’t going to bring in the kind of XP I needed anyways. I nodded at my friend, and he announced that he’d be buying beers for everyone at the Tipsy Minotaur again. They all cheered, and we went off to Greebo’s bar together.
The journey there was full of cheer for most of the group. They joked and chatted about what games they’d play and what weird goblin food they’d eat. But Greebo, for all his smiling participation, had a strained look to his eyes.
When we arrived at the bar, Greebo kicked open the door with his usual gusto and ordered a round of Green Lightnin,’ the house moonshine. The bar cheered, and the bartender shook his head while lining up shot glasses. Greebo’s eyes scanned the bar for Tim. He spotted him in the back of the room, tapped my elbow, and nodded for me to follow him.
Tim sat at a back table, alone with a tall glass of ale in his hands. He looked nervous and started when Greebo touched him, splashing the ale on the table. “Oh, there you are. Been waiting ‘ere over an hour. You don’t have much time if you’re gonna catch them in the act.”
“What do you mean?” Greebo asked.
“I overheard ‘em talking today. The ones I’d been suspicious of are supposed to be meeting with some client in the dungeon. I checked, and there aren’t any official meetings in the books for anyone, and even if there were, we don’t meet on that frozen level of the dungeon but at the guild.”
“The frozen level? You mean the seventh level of the dungeon? The one they make ice on?” I asked.
“Yup, that’s the one. It seemed like the kind of thing you asked me to keep an eye out for.”
Greebo patted the hobgoblin on his forearm and said, “It is, Tim. Thanks for bringing this to me. When are they going to meet?”
“That’s what I been trying to tell you. It’s tonight. You need to get going if you’re gonna catch them red-handed.”
Greebo looked up at me questioningly, and before he could even ask, I said, “I’m with you, Greebo. Let’s go.”
“We’re with you too, cousin,” a voice behind us said. Greebo and I turned and saw Manny and the twins standing a few feet away.
“How much of that did you hear?” Greebo asked.
Manny patted the mace on his belt and said, “Enough to know that you’re heading into trouble.”
Frik nodded and said, “Yeah, trouble, and we won’t let you go alone. You and Repair have helped us out, and we aren’t about to let you two go off and ruin it.”
“Yeah, we got to protect our investment,” Frak added.
I gave Greebo two thumbs up and said to him, “We might as well take them, we don’t know what we’re going to face and there are some pretty tough monsters on the seventh level.”
Greebo thought about it for only a moment before he shrugged and said, “Fine. We’re already running behind.”
Thankfully, none of the miners heard, or we’d have had a whole troop following us. Still, with one Metalman and one heavy armor user, we weren’t going to be the stealthiest group. But I wouldn’t have had anyone else besides me. The goblins made a quick detour to their nearby apartments to grab their winter clothes, which they donned under their armor. They sweated all the way down to the dungeon level, but the moment we entered the dungeon tunnel past the city guard, everyone was very glad to be wearing it.
The air in the dungeon was easily fifty degrees cooler than the outside. We stepped out of the connecting tunnels and onto the ice-covered rocks, and I activated the ice shoes that I’d integrated into my feet, and the iron spikes popped out, giving me more traction as I walked. I’d made sure to fabricate ice shoes for each of the goblins, but Manny still had a terrible time finding his balance at first. He seemed to slip and slide any time he tried to take a step, and he crashed several times before he got the hang of how to take little steps in the ice shoes to maintain his balance.
The four goblins and I walked past the shanty ice makers and deeper into the dungeon, which was really made up of a series of hills covered in snow and ice with sparse clumps of evergreen trees here and there breaking up the white landscape. We’d been given a general distance and direction from the dungeon entrance and a landmark that marked the location for the meetup, a place where three trees grew together. So we hurried through the ice-covered paths and over hills until we found the landmark. The five of us hid behind a few trees, and I happily noted that the goblins white winter coats blended in with the landscape. I stood out a bit more, but I crouched down on the ground and covered myself with snow to help hide my metal frame.
We waited for what seemed like forever before we heard talking out there. We were up near the peak of a hill and could look down to see a group of goblins with expanding backpacks walking along the ice-covered path to the meeting location. I could just make out what they were saying.
“I can’t believe how much we get paid to haul around some sealed-up caskets. It feels like it should be harder to make this much coin.”
“I know, but we’re risking ourselves by smuggling it out of the dungeon. We could get into a lot of trouble with the guard if they caught us.”
The group laughed and one said, “Ha! As if the guard would bother searching for us among all the people coming out with ice. We’re just a few more goblins hauling ice.”
The group moved farther away, and I couldn’t hear them, but it was enough to know that they were indeed smuggling something out of the dungeon. Now, we just neede
d to know what they were smuggling and who they were working for. I turned my head and saw Greebo scowling down at the group of Scavengers. He must have heard the same thing I did.
The Scavengers waited below for a few minutes, and then there was a flash of light, and three cloaked figures appeared, standing in the icy clearing. It was hard to make out any of their features, but one of the figures was much taller than the others, a small one that could have been a halfling or another goblin, and a normal-sized person.
The two groups met and talked, though I couldn’t hear what they said, then they all started to walk north toward a copse of trees.
As the group walked over a hill and out of sight, Greebo turned to me and whispered, “We should follow them and see who exactly they’re working for and if Guild Master Dobliao is there.”
No one disagreed with the plan, so I chimed in, “Uh, Manny and I aren’t exactly the most stealthy people in our armor. Why don’t you and the twins take the lead tracking them, and we’ll follow farther behind?”
