Rolly dodged between two razor-winged flyers and sliced through the underside of their wings as they went past. They lost altitude and skidded through the horde of bugs chasing him, killing a dozen each and disrupting the hunt.
"That's 17 for me! You're falling behind Squirmie!"
"Ok, that does sound bad. Grab me while the skies are clear; we can skip the next batch." The hissing of a thousand larvae made an eerie sound as Squirmie grabbed Rolly and airlifted him past the writhing mass of pale worms. "Hey, some of them have claws or little feet. That's sort of cute. Is that how you used to look?"
"No worries. We'll be out of here soon. There isn't a jail in creation that can hold us! And it was sort of nice. You brought me home, introduced me to your family."
"It happens. Family can be weird. At least she thinks I taste good. Hey, look over there! Is that a way out? That big one is guarding a tunnel."
The huge bug was ten feet tall and resembled a giant beetle walking upright. It held two twelve-foot spears. The tunnel was at the top of a cliff with very little room to fight or maneuver. The guardian form was perfectly shaped to block the tunnel and hold escaping bugs.
"Look on the bright side. Your mama loves you enough not to forget you out of however many hundreds of daughters she has."
Picking up speed, she flew in the direction Rolly indicated.
"Send me in, coach. I'll distract him while you pounce from above like a Jagular." Squirmie made a ninety-degree turn and headed straight for the ceiling. Rolly dropped to the edge of the cliff and rolled forward clumsily. The guardian form made a long stab at him, missing, but kept the other spear in reserve, expecting Rolly to press an attack. Instead of sprinting at the monster, Rolly grabbed the first spear while it was extended and jerked hard, trying to steal it. He lacked the strength to do it but held on, and his opponent took the opportunity to slash at him with the second spear. The weapon sliced through his armor, leaving a bleeding wound on his side. The guardian form pulled back for a thrust at his chest.
Rolly looked at his opponent. "That's right; you got me, now keep those eyes down here and finish me off."His opponent drew back the spear, forgetting it had lost track of the small flying form. Before it could look up, the bug dropped on its head, shouting, "Halloo!" Six razor-sharp talons hacked at the guardian's armor before she spun and executed a Wing Slice. The critical hit popped the guardian form's head from its body. Not quite dead, the guardian form began stabbing with both spears blindly as Rolly dodged behind it. Teetering on the chasm's edge, Rolly helped it over the cliff with a hard shove.
Rolly's side had stopped bleeding. "I'm ready. Just a flesh wound. Time to go explore the mysterious tunnel. I am so happy we got a day off to go adventuring together."
Squirmie shuddered as she saw the tens of thousands of lesser forms pursuing them up the cliff. In the distance, one of her sisters had joined the hunt. Massive wings that were too big to unfurl in these caverns pushed against the ground like extra legs; she raced forward, crushing lesser forms in her way. The small tunnel suddenly looked like a smart move, and Squirmie followed her pet.
After nearly a mile, the tunnel opened, and she could see the way out of this hellish area the swarm queen was exiled to. The path through Tartarus was just beyond. And that was where she would be forced to stop, and hopefully, Rolly could continue. But first, they had to get past the four guardians at the end of the tunnel. Each was larger than the earlier guardian and heavily armored. They blocked the tunnel completely. Rolly waited for her. She had no idea what to do.
"Hush, pretty bug. I have a plan." He strode forward, completely armored in glimmering scales, with multifaceted eyes glowing. "Kneel before the Princess! Kneel before Squirmie, daughter of the Swarm!"
They kneeled.
Rolly motioned her forward; she picked him up and carried him to the edge of the obsidian pathway that sloped up and down. Safe for now.
"Simple. You said they only had a basic nervous system and still had to be given orders. The Queen can't be everywhere. So when a heroic and handsome pet, tasting of the line of Echidna and the Swarm, demands obedience in front of a Princess, they darn well better behave. Now we can have some fun."
"Bullshit laws that don't apply to you. We are symbiotes. We evolve together—peanut butter in my chocolate and my chocolate in your peanut butter. If I can choose to respawn with you, you can respawn with me. Now get over here, young lady."
Squirmie flew over and landed on Rolly's shoulder. Nothing happened to drag her back.
"Now we go visit my buddy, The Manticore, and then all the way down so you can meet grandmother and thank her for that gift."
"It looks like a medieval rummage sale. How much junk do you and Layla get from the dungeon each month?" Ozzie picked up a small shield. It identified as giving the using ten extra mitigation than normal, but only vs. trolls. The next item was a spear that did one additional point of damage but weighed ten pounds.
Suzette pulled more stuff from a crate. "30-40 pieces right now. There's a lot of junk, a few good items, and many crafting materials. The Tier One dungeons give mostly items that are slightly better than normal. At Tier 2, things become more powerful. Bigger bosses, bigger treasures. Stuff from a Named boss is rarely great, but a monstrous boss has some nice stuff. Of course, those are hard to kill and easy to wipe out. And after seeing over two-hundred items come out of the dungeons and noting the party makeup, contract workers apparently get better stuff than adventurers of the same level. I suspect we are counted as lower in power and ability."
Ozzy agreed with that. "We probably are. Some of us can power our way through a Tier 1 and Tier 2 dungeon because of our high health, but the lack of armor, good magical weapons, and spell casting holds many people back. The few groups that tried the Menagerie and The Butcher's Pit struggled. The special abilities and sneaky abilities some of the monsters have can make fights difficult for a lot of workers. That giant sow's scream almost caused a total wipeout, and the Terror that the big gopher caused was the same."
Suzette finally found the stuff she was looking for. "Agreed. Getting everyone to earn the abilities in the Hunter's and Butcher's guilds will help a lot. And we need a method for making the gear we can use. Showing off your skill with a Woomera opened a few eyes. If each worker went into a dungeon with six spears, it would add a lot of ranged weapon abilities. We could work on one group at a time. Make sure they have the skills from the guilds finished up, then outfit them as best we can and start them on the dungeons. You mentioned helping Delbert. He deserves it. He works so hard keeping the lower levels cool and some of the rooms frozen solid."
She handed him some rings and a pair of gloves. "The rings I have aren't much, mostly single stat bonuses. But here's one with +2 AGI. You must be careful around spider monkeys; they won't appreciate your taking their sacred ring. The others give +1 WIS and +1 CHR. And the gloves came from the stuff Billy got from Squealer."
Sacred Totem of Ehecatel, The wearer of this ring, is granted her blessing. +2 AGI Beware: The tribe vows a long, painful death to outsiders.
Wise Old ring. Slide it on your finger and gain +1 WIS. Sometimes, late at night, it will tell you stories about its past adventures.
Pretty Copper Ring. Adds +1 to your CHR.
Bloody Butcher's Gloves (+30 physical mitigation, +30 damage)
Made from the tanned hide of a Blood-crazed Ogre, These gloves are drawn to carnage and are only happy when saturated in the blood of newly killed creatures.
Cursed: If the gloves go for more than a week without blood, they give the user dreams that urge them to violence until they are once again fed on blood. During this time, sane creatures will avoid the wearer, noting your crazed eyes, and fearing a berserk rage. Each day that passes increases the chance of such a rage. The gloves can only be removed when sated.
Ozzy liked the gloves. "These do fit the theme of Gadobhra. I'll take them and the monkey ring. It shouldn't be tough at all to keep the gloves happy. That's sort of my job description. But I'll take them to a butchering session before I put them on; they're probably hungry by now."
Suzette agreed. "Yep, newb mistake. Try them on to see if they fit, then slaughter a town. Identification is such an important skill."
"So, what do you have from your horde?"
"Well, I had been wearing a ring of Feather Falling, but one of my spells covers that now, so I'm swapping it for the Ring of Minor Health I showed you. The other ring I want to use came out of the Pit. Remember that group of adventurers who were angry a few months ago and lost all their gear?"
"Lords of the Ultra-realm? It was just before I headed for the Smoke." Ozzy had seen them march into the pit wearing the best gear he'd seen on anyone yet and full costuming that must have cost them a lot of gold, even if it wasn't magical. "I was surprised when they respawned naked. People lose gear sometimes, but not all of it."
Suzette remembered that day. She'd directed them to Billy as soon as she could to avoid the screaming. Not her dungeon, not her problem. They'd marched to Gadobhra, mostly naked, and marched back out later with ten coppers to their name. Baron William had pleaded that it was a harsh year, and he only had so much money for charity.
"This must have been the cleric's. I remember him screaming about a ring with an eagle on it."
High Clerics Merciful Ring of the Eagle
If the bearer of this ring is a healer, all healing spells cure +100 health.
The bearer also benefits from the Lesser Eagle Sight Blessing, granting +1 Perception.
"Billy and Layla let you have that?
Suzette laughed at the idea. "I offered him three shitty magic items and 1000 gold. He's weak regarding gold, and I had extra."
Ozzy agreed. "Gold doesn't help when you're knee-deep in lemmings or ghouls. Magic is better. Speaking of which, when do you want to go grab our loot from the chest? I was beat the other night, and the farmers were lining up for their gold. It seemed rude to break the line. I have to keep up my reputation as the kind-hearted local Butcher."
Suzette suggested waiting for Rolly, Squirmie, and Ben. Ozzy agreed. They'll be back soon."
Ozzy put the other two rings in his pocket. "I'll stop by and give these to Delbert. They'll give him some extra mana, and we can watch for something else for him. If he comes to Gadobhra for some night shifts, maybe we can put him in the first adventuring group we train up."
Ben opened his eyes and wondered if he'd taken a nap in the Sistine Chapel again. He'd done it once in the Quest for Rome mini-game in EQO2. Inquisitor Harold hadn't been happy about it, nor finding his wife asleep next to Ben. A shame that he never lived to the end of that scenario, no matter how many times he played it. Then again, he was paid to play a role that caused havoc among the nobles. Eventually, someone caught him.
But no, this room was smaller, even if the ceiling was just as ornate. The bed was huge, with room for four people to sleep peacefully. He was tempted, so very tempted, to roll over, go back to sleep, and take a day off. But not when he didn't know where he was.
He got out of bed, noticing he was dressed in white silk pajamas with the letters 'DF' embossed on the breast. His courier gear was cleaned and pressed on a chair. Or so he had assumed. The clothes were new and well made, not his worn and much-patched gear. The weave was high quality and very comfortable. He was sure it was enchanted. He dressed and found that all his other gear was there, even his old boots. They'd been cleaned and polished and set beside a much nicer pair. He kept his old boots. New boots would squeak and betray you at the worst moment and were no good in a fight.
There was a sword with his gear, a beautifully balanced rapier with a glowing blade and silver basket. He sighed and left it. It was pretty but dead weight, and you didn't steal another man's sword. Unless he tried to kill you with it, it was fair game. Dressed, he examined the room. All of the bookshelves were filled with thick books and strange knick-knacks. The books proved to be mostly romance novels—good reading, possibly, but at another time.
Two doors led out of the room. The first proved to be a bathroom with a working toilet and hot water in the bathroom. He was so curious if all the rich people had working toilets. They were still mostly using chamber pots and outhouses in Sedgewick. A few water closets had been rigged, but that was all. The second door led to a study. It was huge, with long tables for work or study, comfortable leather chairs, a custom table for playing Whist, and even more books. Many of the books bore a resemblance to a book he had at home. He took down one, Lost Potato Recipes of the Outer Chonian Islands, by Damien Franklin, and found it locked. There were 63 more such books, along with hundreds of volumes by other authors on natural science, mathematics, chemistry, alchemy, unnatural science, and the quest for the perfect philosopher's stone.
He ran to the window and tossed back the curtains. He was in a large city with buildings covering architecture from many periods and places, with a slight prevalence of gothic-style houses similar to what he saw in Sedgewick. The gates to the grounds surrounding a golden palace were ten blocks to the North. The other door to the study clicked open, and an older woman entered the room. Her strong features reminded him of Harmony, but an older version. Her long grey hair was in several braids, decorated with gold beads. Her dress style was odd, quite piratical, down to the sword she pointed at him. Ben approved of the look. She be right at home standing on the Splinter.
"Nice to see you finally make it home, Damien. We need to have a little talk about the rules." She advanced on him, swinging her sword to loosen up, never taking her eyes off of him.
Ben sighed. He definitely should have stayed in bed.
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