by S. R. Witt
Robert decided to give the Risi something else to occupy his mind. He retrieved a pair of heavy gauntlets from the pile of treasure. Each of the gauntlets had a thick cylinder attached to the back of its wrist guard by heavy copper bolts. Braided wires led from each of the cylinders to the tips of each of the gauntlet’s fingers. “Gauntlets of Lightning,” Robert said as he tossed them to Targ. “These will turn those clubs of yours into thunderbolts.”
“Better than being struck by ’em,” Targ said with a grin, slipping the gauntlets onto his hands. He furrowed his brow in concentration and then his eyes lit up. A faint hum rumbled from the cylinders, and crackling sparks of electricity sizzled along the wires. Targ grabbed one of his clubs, and the electricity shot up its length to crackle from the spiked tip like some bizarre piece of equipment in a mad scientist’s laboratory. “Oh, yeah. These’ll do nicely.”
“And this is mine,” Sandra said, reaching past Osmark to grab a pair of short swords with strangely hooked tips. “Forged Tears. Armor-piercing. Let’s see those mechanical monkeys come at me again. I’ll cut them up like a can opener.”
The rest of the pile was all for Robert. He picked up a strange weapon that looked similar to his repeater—except where the handle and trigger should’ve been, there were four metal slats—almost like miniature helicopter blades—folded along the sleek gun casing. Osmark’s eyes widened as he examined the object; it looked like some sort of steampunk drone.
<<<>>>
Flame Spitter
Weapon Type: Firearm
Class: Forge-Branded Relic, Automaton
Base Damage: 20
Primary Effects:
20 pts impact damage + 5 points of fire damage/second for five seconds
Upon activation, fires at every target in a 20' diameter sphere designated by the wielder.
Does not require wielder’s action
Uses wielder’s Intelligence bonus to-hit, no damage bonus
Secondary Effects:
Any Any target struck by Flame Spitter’s initial activation is marked. Flame Spitter fires at one marked target per second for ten seconds after activation
Flame Spitter is most effective against targets with reduced movement. If a target has a movement penalty, Flame Spitter’s damage is doubled for every 20% reduction in movement speed. This effect can stack for a total of x32 normal damage against a paralyzed or immobile target.
<<<>>>
Sandra sidled up next to Osmark and nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. “This is some nice stuff, Robert. I take it yours is the cream of the crop?”
Osmark chuckled. “It is my restricted area, you know. And yes, it’s good stuff, though I haven’t finished going through it yet.” He raised an eyebrow at her, but she ignored his pointed comment.
“We need to figure out how we’re going to proceed,” she said matter-of-factly. “I have the skills to get around most mundane traps, but this whole place is a bit outside my area of expertise.” She glanced around, nervously running one hand along the hilt of her new sword.
She was right of course.
Robert considered the issue as he picked up a pair of boots from the remaining loot, turning them over in his hands, inspecting the fine cogs attached to the leather. Already, the challenges within the Artifactory were more daunting than he’d expected, but the rewards outstripped them. Each of the mechanical creatures was worth a full 2,000 EXP, and even split five ways, that was still 4,400 points from this one engagement alone. And, if he found more gear like the Flame Spitter or these boots, he’d be a force to be reckoned with by the time he left here.
<<<>>>
Geometrically Threaded Boots
Armor Type: Light, padded
Class: Ancient Artifact; Set Item
Base Defense: 10 (20 vs. Mechanical Creatures or Automatons)
Special: 2 Small Mounting Brackets; 1 Sigil Plate
Primary Effects:
+20 to Intelligence
+10 to Reputation with all Friendly Factions
+10 Renown
Secondary Effects:
Part of the Artifactory Engineer’s Uniform Armor Set
+5 Armor against all mechanical or automaton attacks per set piece worn
All Stamina Costs are reduced by 15% (2 pieces)
+10 to Movement Bonus (3 pieces)
+25% increased chance to avoid Movement Restricting Debuffs (4 pieces)
+1 Large Mounting Bracket (5 pieces)
+1 Sigil Plate when the full suit is worn (6 pieces)
<<<>>>
The boots were poor protection against most attacks, but against the types of steampunk monsters Robert expected to face in the rest of the Artifactory, they’d be more than sufficient. The boost to Intelligence was also very, very nice. Robert pulled a pair of matching armored pants from the pile of loot, and couldn’t suppress a grin when he examined them.
<<<>>>
Geometrically Threaded Breeches
Armor Type: Light, padded
Class: Ancient Artifact; Set Item
Base Defense: 10 (20 vs. Mechanical Creatures or Automatons)
Special: 2 Small Mounting Brackets; 1 Sigil Plate
Primary Effects:
+20 to Intelligence
+10 to Reputation with all Friendly Factions
+10 Renown
Secondary Effects:
Part of the Artifactory Engineer’s Uniform Armor Set
+5 Armor against all mechanical or automaton attacks per set piece worn
All Stamina Costs are reduced by 15% (2 pieces)
+10 to Movement Bonus (3 pieces)
+25% increased chance to avoid Movement Restricting Debuffs (4 pieces)
+1 Large Mounting Bracket (5 pieces)
+1 Sigil Plate when the full suit is worn (6 pieces)
<<<>>>
Robert wondered what the mounting brackets and sigil plates did, but he hadn’t unlocked the skills related to them yet. Until he’d gained the Mechanical Artificer class kit, the more esoteric armor features were barred to him.
For the time being, he’d have to satisfy himself with the dramatically improved Armor and Intelligence bonuses provided by the first pieces of his new armor set. He kicked off the ratty old boots he’d been wearing since the moment he’d landed in V.G.O. and started untying the laces of his Tinkerer’s Breeches.
He glanced up at Sandra, who grinned impishly in his direction, cocking an eyebrow at him. Please proceed, that look said. He’d been in such a hurry to gear up he’d forgotten he wasn’t alone.
“Turn around,” he ordered his assistant, rotating his finger in the air to illustrate. She hesitated, just a moment, then turned her back on him with a pout. Robert ignored her silent protests, quickly kicking off his boots, slithering out of his old leggings, and stepping into the new Geometrically Threaded Breeches. Before he even had them up to his knees, however, a long loud whistle echoed through the pipe-lined room.
Osmark shot a dark glare over his shoulder at Eldred, who wiggled her tongue at him and gave him a wink that made him feel a little weak in the knees. “Nice legs,” she said, arms folded across her chest as her eyes roved over him.
Robert almost tripped over his pants in his haste to yank them up to his waist. He’d forgotten about the NPCs in the room and had revealed a lot more of his anatomy than just his legs. When he finally had the leggings cinched tight around his waist, Robert resumed his conversation with Sandra without missing a beat. “Okay, we’re going to have to discuss teamwork and tactics with the mercenaries.”
“Darn,” Sandra muttered, “I missed the show. But you’re right about that last part. That was a disaster. We’re lucky to be alive. One second, I was alone in the tunnel. The next we were surrounded by Scavlings. I don’t even know where they came from.”
“A trap, I think,” Osmark said. “You must have accidentally triggered it, releasing some sort of hidden compartment which dumped those things right on top of us.” He shook his head. “I think I
know how we can avoid that in the future, but let’s talk to the others.”
When all eyes were on him, and Eldred had stopped her tittering, Osmark cleared his throat and launched into his best inspirational speech. “I’m not sure how you’re used to operating, but that encounter was sloppy and unacceptable, ladies and gentlemen. This was the first room and those creatures were only the first wave—the easiest opponents we’re likely to face—and we barely managed to scrape by. So, clearly whatever we’re doing isn’t working.”
Eldred snorted, her wings flexing as she examined the tip of a short dagger. “I handled it just fine.”
Targ groaned. “If by fine, you mean you nearly cooked me alive, then yes, you handled it just fine.”
Karzic thumped his hammer against the floor and tugged at his gray beard. “Friendly fire’s gonna put a strain on my abilities. I can shield one of you at a time, and I can heal you all after a fight, but if we get swarmed like that again there’s no guarantee we’re all getting out alive.”
Listening to his NPCs bicker didn’t do anything to improve Osmark’s mood. He distracted himself by flipping through the Artificer’s skill tree in search of something useful. The last time he’d looked at his abilities was back in the forest, before he’d bumbled into the Fungaloids. Robert was shocked to see there were several notifications waiting for his attention—all the battles he’d fought had earned him enough experience points to reach level thirteen. That left him with 6 unspent Proficiency Points and 30 Stat Points to distribute.
He quickly poured 10 more Stat Points into his Intelligence and was pleased to see it rise to 98.5. Thanks to his skill with engineered weapons, this provided him with an impressive bonus to hit the bad guys with his repeater. As long as he could get a clear shot, he’d be more of an asset to his team than ever.
Next, he added one more point each to the Clockwork, Firearms, Focus Fire, and Caltrops skills to further bolster his effectiveness. The first skill would help him spot the nastier engineered traps waiting for them deeper inside the Brand-Forged Dungeon. Firearms and Focus Fire would make him more of a force to be reckoned with in a scuffle. There was a boss fight coming at the end of this dungeon, and Robert wanted to be ready for it.
And that was why he was especially interested in the Caltrops skill. The point he’d invested into it increased the movement penalty for anyone caught in its radius to 75% and the duration to a full two minutes. Combining the caltrops’ debuffs with the Fire Spitter’s awesome damage against slowed targets was a huge synergy Osmark couldn’t pass up.
“What was that?” he asked, realizing Sandra had been speaking to him the whole time he’d had his nose buried in the V.G.O. game screens. “Sorry, I was thinking about something else.”
“I was just saying, I don’t have the knowledge to spot whatever triggered those metal spiders.” She folded her arms across her chest and raised one eyebrow as if to say, What now, boss?
Robert waved her concern away. “I have the skills to identify the triggers that are activating the Artifactory’s defenses. I’ll lead—”
All four of Osmark’s companions protested at once. The clashing words flooded over him like an approaching storm, but Targ’s thunderous complaint overpowered them all.
“No. I was paid to see you safely through this place, and that’s what I’m gonna do. End of story.” He hooked his thumbs into his weapon belt and shook his head vigorously. “I’ll lead the way. The dwarf will keep me alive.”
Karzic squawked and stomped his foot. “That means I’ll be right behind you. So every trap you blunder into is likely to catch me as well. That’s not going to work. And that doesn’t even take into consideration the fact that I can’t heal you every few minutes. My resources are more limited than that. Even with our stock of Health and Spirit Regen potions, we’d be courting disaster.”
Robert scowled.
He didn’t have time for these arguments, and he didn’t like having his authority challenged. Still, he couldn’t deny taking point could put him in a potentially dangerous position. After all, if something happened to him, then all of this was for nothing. He’d respawn, but the time lost might be the edge Sizemore needed to get his plans into action. None of his other Artificer abilities would be of any help here, but a sudden flash on inspiration struck like a lightning bolt. He toggled out of his Artificer skill tree and pulled up his general skills.
There. His racial Overseer ability.
Although the ability itself leveled up through use, there were a variety of specialized skills he could unlock with Proficiency Points. Most of those skills were locked by level requirements, but not all of them. He dropped a single Proficiency Point into a skill called Micromanage. Robert was rewarded by a sudden burst of light surrounding the skill’s title, and a short pop-up message that told him everything he needed to know. He read it once, then again to make sure he understood the implications of what he was about to do.
“Sandra, you can lead,” Robert said. “I have a different plan that should help us avoid the worst of the traps.”
Sandra leaned back on her heels, a skeptical frown pinching her lips. “That fast? Something tells me I’m not going to like this plan.”
Osmark couldn’t suppress an evil grin. “You’re definitely not going to like it, but it’s the only way we can make this work.”
TWENTY-FIVE:
Steamwraith
The party spent the better part of half an hour gathering up the remaining loot from the Scavlings’ lair, which included 3,328 gold coins and a large sack of polished gemstones worth another 1,000 gold at least. Not to mention, a ridiculous amount of interesting steampunk salvage. While the others dealt with the more mundane treasure, he sorted and organized all of the Scavlings’ loot into piles by type and rarity.
“This looks like fun,” Sandra offered dryly, poking at a pile of hinged joints with the toe of her boot. “What are you going to do with this scrap heap?”
Osmark held up a double handful of metal shards and said, “This.” He flicked his eyes over to the build menu and selected Caltrops. He’d gained several levels since the last time he’d done any engineering builds, which had increased his stats, but creating the caltrops still drained the majority of his Stamina. Osmark felt the wind sucked out of his lungs and swayed on his heels as energy leached away.
“Are you all right, Robert?” Sandra asked, brows furrowed. “You look”—she paused and frowned, scanning his face—“unwell,” she finally finished. “Like you’re about to pass out.”
“I’ll be fine in a minute,” Osmark grunted, showing Sandra a completed caltrop grenade. He tucked the shiny gray sphere away in his inventory, where it’d be ready for later use. “Building things burns a lot of Stamina. It’s all right, as long as I have time to prepare. Better to pay the price before a fight, than during it.” He groped at his belt, pulling free one of the yellow, citrus-flavored Stamina Regen potions. It vanished down his throat in a single gulp, and immediately left him feeling better.
The party rested for another fifteen minutes, letting Robert prepare ten more caltrop grenades and recover from the Stamina loss naturally, without burning through his finite supply of potions. Osmark wanted to spend more time experimenting with the build menu, to see what he could do with all these fancy new spare parts, but there wasn’t time to indulge his curiosity. They needed to wrap this up and get back to town—Robert’s to-do list wasn’t getting any shorter, and he still needed to get a good night’s sleep tonight.
Meeting Sizemore was going to be a helluva challenge, and Osmark didn’t want to compound the difficulty of the board meeting by pulling an all-nighter. Not if it could be avoided. Before they ventured on, he needed a clearer picture of his team’s capabilities and how they could put them to better use. The fight with the Scavlings had almost ended in disaster—they might not be so lucky the next time.
“Targ, what’s your class and what specials do you have available?”
The Risi grunt
ed and folded his arms, clearly unhappy with the question. “Standard Brawler,” he finally offered. “Basically, a modified tank. High HP, high defense—though not as high as a straight Shield Bearer—with some good movement bonuses and a helluva right hook. In terms of specials, Taunt helps me draw aggro, Bloodlust kicks up Health Regen rate and Attack damage when I drop below 25% Health, and my Savage Blow increases damage by 25%, and raises Critical Hit by 15%.”
“Eldred?” He quirked one eyebrow at the winged woman. “Report.”
The Accipiter folded her arms across her chest and flexed her wings, just as unhappy as Targ had been. “I’m a Fell Summoner. Not much in the way of combat abilities or friendly auras—mostly, I rip holes in the fabric of the universe and pull Nether beasts into our plane. Unlike other summoners, I don’t have access to a small army of low-level minions—skeletons, ghouls, trolls, that sort of thing. Instead, I can summon one powerful creature at a time.”
“And what about you, Karzic?” Robert asked the dwarf, knowing the key to any successful party was an effective and efficient healer. “What spells do you have equipped?” Figuring out the chanter’s capabilities and limitations was the first step toward refining their strategy.
The dwarf fidgeted and leaned on his hammer, seesawing his head left then right. “I can use the Chant of Restoration once more today, which will restore all of us to full Health and remove any status conditions. It takes five minutes to complete, though, and I can’t do anything else while I’m performing the ritual. And if I get interrupted—by taking a hit, for example—then the chant ends, and the healing is negated.
“What else, what else,” he said, drumming his fingers on the haft of his hammer. “Well, I can also use Stream of Life, as needed, on one target at a time. So long as it’s sustained by my chanting, it doubles all armor and resistance ratings, and gives the target 50 Stamina and Health Regeneration per second.”
