by G. D. Penman
[MISS]
Both legs retracted up into the central mass as his sword swung close and the whole bulk came thumping down on top of him.
[Skaife suffers 28 bludgeoning damage]
[PENANCE: Jericho suffers 28 bludgeoning damage]
What little breath he had left was driven out of his lungs by the crushing weight of the Swamproot, even though Jericho’s penance had absorbed half the damage. He couldn’t even cry out as he felt the tendrils begin to probe at his armor, creeping inside, trying to take root in his flesh.
Lindsay slammed into the Swamproot, blades first, and the shock of the impact travelled down through it to grind Martin into the tiles once more.
[CRITICAL HIT]
[Fecund Swamproot suffers 49 piercing damage]
[Skaife suffers 11 bludgeoning damage]
[PENANCE: Jericho suffers 11 bludgeoning damage]
He only had six health left, and even though he had lit his hand up with Healing Touch, he couldn’t move to touch himself with it. The next time the Swamproot moved, he was going to die from its weight alone.
Up above him, he could hear Lindsay screeching and slashing as she tried to get free of the encompassing vines. Jericho was cussing at the two of them under his breath as he strained, trying to pry their living wooden prison apart with his bare hands.
Then he saw it. In the pitch darkness beneath the tangled woods of the Swamproot, Martin could suddenly see a shape. Just like he’d been able to see the root network beneath the surface of the water.
There was a single corkscrewing root coming down from the center of the creature above him, lit up with that same strange blue glow as the Rain Tear Crystals that seemed to animate all of these monstrous vegetables. It twitched just by Martin’s face and wormed down into a crack in the tiles beneath him, spreading out in a fine web under the surface of the tiles into a massive fungal network. No wonder the Swamproot was reluctant to let go of its footing when it was drawing all its strength from the earth.
His sword was too far away, pinned as uselessly as his Healing Touch, but Martin wasn’t a human here in Strata. He was a rat. And there was nothing rats did better than gnaw.
He’d expected something tough when he bit into the root, but it was soft and spongy, like a mushroom or a tongue. It tasted vile – like burdock, licorice and anise had crossbred and then been left to rot in a bog for a thousand years – but it gave way beneath his sharp incisors easily.
[Fecund Swamproot has been uprooted]
The cohesion of the monster suddenly fell apart. The crushing grip on his arms and legs loosened, and he started to crawl his way out through the chaotic undergrowth. When he managed to pry his glowing hand free, he pressed it to his chest, then kept it close so it wouldn’t get ensnared all over again.
[Skaife regains 15 health]
Lindsay seemed like she was finally having some success too, and with a sound like tearing paper, Jericho finally managed to clear a path for her escape. Martin burst out into the dim light of the pump-room and gasped for fresh air.
The second he could speak, he called out, “All clear?”
Lindsay had a quaver in her voice. “Let’s not fight any more tentacle monsters, yeah?”
Martin hated hearing fear in her voice. She was meant to be joyful and confident – some might say overconfident. He couldn’t stand to think of that unshakeable faith in herself being broken.
“Give me a dragon any day.”
She let out a little squawk of laughter. It sounded wetter than he would have liked, but at least it sounded like her again.
“Hey now, whatever happened to good old-fashioned goblins?”
Severed from the fungal network below the tiles, the Swamproot seemed to have lost all reason and semblance of form. Martin was starting to suspect that the parts it had hidden under the floor were the parts it used for thinking.
He could still see that one blue glowing tentacle linking up the Rain Tears on one end and wriggling around wildly on the other, desperately rooting around inside the other stems. Searching. It had literally lost its mind.
This was their chance.
“Get it!” he yelled.
All hesitation was thrown to the wind. Martin could hear Lindsay hacking at the far side of the exploded Swamproot, catching brief glimpses of her through the swaying, writhing cords of green.
[Fecund Swamproot suffers 9 slashing damage]
[Fecund Swamproot suffers 7 slashing damage]
[Fecund Swamproot suffers 8 slashing damage]
His own sweeping blows cut readily through the nearest tendrils in swathes.
[Fecund Swamproot suffers 16 slashing damage]
[CRITICAL HIT]
[Fecund Swamproot suffers 32 slashing damage]
In the midst of it all, suspended on the glowing blue vine, Martin could see the Rain Tear Crystals whipping back and forth on their uncontrolled tether. He was sure that the two of them were all that was still granting this thing life, but he didn’t know how to get past the cyclone of vines to get close enough to sever them.
The whole thing was working on instinct now, automatic defenses making it flail around until it could regain sentience. Sensory input was just setting its shoots into action without any intervening logic.
“Guys, I’ve got an idea that could go extremely wrong.”
Jericho groaned as Lindsay yelled back, “Those are the best kind!”
Martin smiled despite himself. “Close your eyes.”
This time, Julia was the quickest on the uptake. “But light makes it stronger.”
“I know.” Martin’s grin was getting perilously real now. “But strong doesn’t matter when you’re dead.” He cast Halo and all hell broke loose.
The buds along the vines burst open into vicious looking thorns, dripping with some foul ichor that sizzled when it hit the tiles. The vines themselves began to swell once again, getting thicker and extending their reach even further.
All of these things would have terrified Martin if it weren’t for the fact that the moment his Halo struck the Swamproot, all of the dozen eyes it had been using to track them had been struck blind.
He didn’t hesitate, just dove headlong into the venomous thicket of paralyzed vines, hacking his way through to the Rain Tears, ducking and dodging wherever he could.
When the Swamproot came back to life, this place was going to be like standing in an oversized blender. Martin had no intention of ever letting it come back to life.
The blue glow of the Rain Tears shimmered ahead of him and the sword in his hand felt like an extension of his arm. He was already swinging the moment the thought crossed his mind.
[CRITICAL HIT]
[Fecund Swamproot suffers 36 slashing damage]
Fecund Swamproot has died.
Skaife has earned 840 experience.
[LEVEL UP]
The crystals shattered into a shimmering dust and the plant fell limp with a sound like a deflating balloon. All the vines thudded down in a great spiraling blossom around him and he finally saw the rest of the party again.
Jericho was glaring across at him with the very special annoyance that he reserved for situations like this; when everything had gone right despite his warnings and now he didn’t even have something to be angry about.
Martin savored those moments; they had come less and less frequently, the more competent he had proven himself to be.
Julia healed Lindsay, who looked across at him with something like admiration in her eyes. Admiration marred by jealousy.
“Next time, maybe you could tell me what is happening so that I can fight too, yeah?”
Martin’s pride shrank a little. Maybe he was getting too used to playing by himself. “Sorry, I didn’t have much time to think.”
“Well, don’t leave me standing around with nothing to do again.” Lindsay had already been irritated with him for taking the lead earlier. Now he’d stolen the killing blow out of her hands too. She wasn’t petty, but sh
e still needed to be in charge. “You know, you got lucky this time, but I could have hit those eyeballs faster than you if you’d just given me the go-ahead. You know?”
Martin should have just let it go. He should have just taken his lumps and moved on, but some treacherous little voice of logic in his head made him ask, “You could see them in there?”
Lindsay set her shoulders, feathers rustling down her back. “I could see them just as well as you.”
“Are you sure?” He cocked his head to one side. He really needed to stop talking, because there was no way that this wasn’t going to escalate into a full-blown argument if he kept poking at her. “Because I’ve got Night Vision and Swamproot Sight.”
Jericho rumbled, “The hell is Swamproot Sight?”
Martin crouched down and scooped up some of the less poisonous-looking sap from one of the many wounded vines. “Come here, big guy.” He smeared it over Jericho’s eyelids and then saw the hulking Wulvan blink as the notification appeared.
“So, what, it helps you see plants?”
“I guess? It came in handy in the swamp.”
Lindsay and Julia wiped some on themselves. Lindsay’s temper was temporarily defused by the new discovery.
“Come on, let’s loot this bitch. Get our key and move on!”
Martin turned to the Swamproot’s corpse and the looting tooltip appeared.
Fecund Swamproot
The undisputed masters of the fifth deep, the Swamproots are the lethal leaders of the Morasses, Stranglers and Snapjaws of your earlier tribulations. Strangely lucid and cruel for a plant, they will torture their prey for no discernable reason.
Loot: 79 silver, Rain Tear Crystal Dust, Swamproot Sap, Tarnished Censer, Swamproot Stave, Pearlfeather Cloak.
Requires Herbalism to Harvest: Unknown Plant, Unknown Plant, Unknown Plant, Unknown Venom, Fertile Substrate.
Masters of the fifth deep? This was yet another displaced monster. No wonder it had nearly wiped the floor with them. If it had been a toe-to-toe fight like you’d expect in an MMO then they would have been slaughtered by this thing.
It was really just luck that had put Martin in position to hit it where it was weak. Luck, and the help of his little frog-friends with their handy goop. Otherwise things would have gone very differently.
A second realization followed on the heels of the first. If the Swamproot was a wandering monster from further in the dungeon then it probably wasn’t the boss of this level, and it wouldn’t have the Deep Key.
He let out a groan, then turned his attention to the loot. The crystal dust would probably sell for even less than the whole crystal had. The Swamproot Sap was incredibly useful in the context of this one deep and would probably be of great benefit to anyone fighting these creatures down in deep five, but they had all gained the buff now, and the lack of any countdown seemed to imply it was permanent.
Anyone they sold the sap along to would have the same advantage that Martin had earned for the guild, and when the competition was as fierce as it seemed to be, he wasn’t sure if giving anything away was smart, not unless they could trade it for something better.
The censer, stave and cloak all looked a lot more promising, and he was less conflicted about upgrades that they could use themselves instead of passing on to whoever had the most ready cash.
Tarnished Censer [4-8 damage]
The Crusade stretches ever on into the future, but it began many years ago and for every hero raised up in triumph there have been a hundred laid low by the trial. This relic belonged to one of those forgotten martyrs and has lain rotting in the fetid waters until now.
It looked like a very ineffectual morningstar, a ball of hollow metal at the end of a chain. Once, it had all been filigreed in silver, but now it was clotted with thick verdigris. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but closer examination revealed that it was useable by any class, even the usually empty-handed martyrs. He tossed the censer to Jericho.
“Something to use next time we’re up against something immune to light.”
Jericho dangled it from his meaty fist with a sigh. “Fine.”
Swamproot Stave [4-8 damage]
Amidst the tangled wood of the Swamproot, it is rare to find even a single stretch that is straight, yet in your hands you hold a length worthy to be wielded as a stave. Beneath the surface of this still-living wood, the flow of sap can still be felt.
It could only be used by hierophants, and the practical information about what it actually did was hidden from Martin’s sight when he tried to read it. With disgust, he tossed it to Julia. She fumbled the catch and had to scoop it up from the floor, but whatever irritation that might have caused vanished as she read through the special effects of the staff. A glint appeared in her eye.
“Thank you very much.”
Pearlfeather Cloak
The Pearlfeather Clan of Corvan are few in number, in no small part because of the bounty upon these feathers. Shimmering and iridescent, they shift color to match their surroundings, providing the wearer with a great boon to their stealth.
Martin almost grumbled as he handed the last piece of loot across to Lindsay, who was clapping her hands and rambling something about him being Santa Claus. Another powerful enemy beaten and not a piece of loot for him. It was getting past the point where he could believe it was just bad luck. He was being sabotaged. The Master had been true to their word.
Lindsay flung her new gear on without a second thought.
“Invisibility cloak. Nice! Going to sneak up on all y’all and tickle you. Make you think you’re haunted. Woo. I’m a ghost.” She froze, realization spreading across her face. “Oh! Oh! I’m the ghost of Christmas past. Rat-boy is Scrooge, handing out presents after seeing us all. Jericho can be the big guy that eats everything. Julia, get your hood up, you can be the spooky skinny one at the end.”
Jericho growled – actually growled, like a dog – and Julia gave one of the watery smiles that somehow translated well onto a lizard face. “I would prefer not to.”
Lindsay fluttered over in a shimmer of changing colors to drape herself on Martin. That was one of the best things about Lindsay. She got angry quickly, but it vanished just as fast when she found something to amuse herself with.
“Dude, where is your Christmas spirit?”
“Firstly, it is August.” He counted off on his fingers. “And secondly, bah humbug.”
She gasped in faux horror. “Shame on you, sir. Shame.”
Jericho butted in before she could launch into the next round of antics. “You have the key?”
“No. This monster wasn’t even supposed to be up here. It’s from deep five. The actual boss must be around here somewhere…” Martin trailed off.
If this was an ecosystem, it wasn’t likely that the new apex predator would have tolerated the previous one for long.
“It’s probably underneath the body. The Swamproot probably killed it when it took over.”
Jericho grumbled some more, but it didn’t take long for all four of them to work their way across the walkway, dragging the now-limp branches of the Swamproot out of the way. Julia found what they were looking for, eventually: the mostly decayed body of another Sythvan.
It was almost mummified, with all of the moisture dragged out of the corpse to feed the parasitic plant that was sprouting from the top of its head. Closer examination revealed that the hybrid was called a Sprouting Snapjaw, and it had been a much more appropriate challenge for their levels.
The Deep Key was all that was left in its decaying inventory, but Julia claimed it without complaint.
Lindsay was bouncing up and down by the time they had the key. “All right. All right. Let’s go.”
On their way out, Martin eyed the mechanical apparatus that dominated the room with avarice. Technology like that, it was a whole new development on what he had thought was a thinly veiled medieval fantasy world. The developers were laying the groundwork for an almost industrialized society somewhere in the game’
s history.
Which meant that at some point, almost inevitably, they were going to end up going head to head with the remnants of it. He could hardly wait.
Eighteen
The Deep Rains
As they made their way back out past the trapped Morasses, which seemed to have begun decaying, Martin blinked open the menu and started to level up, eyes flickering open every once in a while to make sure the group were heading the right way.
He wasn’t sure if the others had leveled up too, but he didn’t want to slow them down or start an awkward conversation about why he was levelling faster than them.
At the same time, there was a terrible temptation to take over, to tell them how they should be assigning their stats and which abilities they should be picking – a temptation that he knew from painful experience that he must not indulge.
People didn’t like being told what to do at the best of times. When you were telling them it was for their own good, it was infinitely worse. And when you were telling them how to build their character – essentially telling them who they should be – they really did not like it.
Friendships had been lost over much less, and Martin was already walking a dangerous tightrope with the guild, trying to maximize their efficiency and progress without making them hate him in return.
He put everyone else out of his mind for now and concentrated instead on doing a little bit of personal improvement.
Skaife Murovan Exorcist
Strength: 6 Agility: 8
Endurance: 9 Willpower: 7
LEVEL 4
You have 3 points to assign.
Now that he had seen a little bit of what the lower levels were going to hold, the course he should take became more apparent to Martin. Humanoid enemies that needed to be blocked and parried were giving way to huge monstrosities that had to be dodged, and for some reason that wasn’t half the drain on stamina that blocking and parrying had been. Or at least, it was a more gradual drain.
