novelnext 45: A Paid Gig
45: A Paid Gig
45: A Paid Gig
It took us a week to get the foundations built, and several more to block out the central donjon. During that time, we messed up and wasted more of my stone bricks than I was comfortable with. Still, it was finished, and we moved on to adding the flooring, ceiling, and miscellaneous enchantments.
Of course, there was one issue that’d become more pressing than actually building the structure. We needed to get our tree registered with the game as a guild vehicle, and fast. Since Silver Ridge had gotten wind of the fact that my new friends were in contact with me, or at least my old character, they were beginning to snoop and talk shit about us on the forums. It was more than a little stressful.
Unfortunately the protections on a guild vehicle weren't nearly as robust as those on a guild house—That would have made it completely unassailable. A guild vehicle was less protected, but it could, obviously, move around.
Normally the mechanic was used for ships and such, where players were expected to be able to board or destroy the ships of guilds they were at war with. The mechanics were a little finicky, because Rellithesh treated PvP as a side thing, rather than an integral part of the game like other MMOs did.
Basically, you needed to either board the enemy ship and capture the core, or you needed to use your own vehicle to destroy it in battle. This prevented people from just walking within range and nuking it with spells. It did mean we’d need to load our tree up with armour and defences, however. Assuming we could even get it turned into a guild vehicle.
To that end, Ethan and I were on a mission to get the funds we needed for a guild charter. Couldn’t have a guild vehicle without a guild charter, of course. So, we’d looked around for people willing to pay for something we could do. Eventually, we found a forum post asking for a single-target melee damage-dealer, and a competent, geared healer.
When I’d saw why they needed us, I’d openly winced. The developers, in their infinite wisdom, had inadvertently created a catch-22 for healers in our region. The best gear for anyone of the chanty-healy persuasion was found inside one nightmare of a dungeon, and that dungeon just so happened to contain mechanics that needed a very competent healer. A healer with, say, the gear from that very same dungeon.
On top of that, there was a mechanic within the dungeon that required specifically a melee damage dealer, and they had to be good. If they weren’t the team wiped and your dungeon run failed. It was a miserable, and thus, many groups opted to beg or pay people to come and help out. That’s obviously where Ethan and I came in.
“What are these people like?” I asked Ethan while we walked through the city. Mainly I was trying to fill what I felt was an awkward silence hanging between us. We hadn’t really spoken one-on-one since before I left Silver Ridge.
Ethan considered my question for a moment, then shrugged, “I’m not really sure. They seemed nice enough when I answered their chat messages. I only spoke to the GM though.”
I glanced up at him. It was like taking a little journey up a large hill or a small mountain. Goddess, but he was tall. “What was he like, at least?”
“Like a small-time guild leader,” Ethan chuckled wryly. “He had a lot of confidence but enough social acuity to not come off as annoying. He knows he’s small fry right now but has big dreams for his guild in the future. That kind of thing. Also, he was kinda boring, you know?”
We shared a little laugh. It was a bit of a stereotype, I had to admit. The stereotype wasn't necessarily negative, though, but more that it was just amusing how small guild leaders were generally similar like that.
When we arrived at the dungeon hub, it was packed, as per usual. People were everywhere, forming groups and shouting that they needed a tank. Funnily enough, although healers were still hard to come by compared to damage dealers, they were actually pretty popular in MMOs like this one. Some people just didn’t like the close-and-personal nature of stabbing or exploding things in VR.
“Oh man, don’t I know it,” I sighed, sharing a nod of respect with the dude. He might be a Strider wannabe, but I totally understood the pain of hunting down the Prismascouts. Those bastards were like mountain goats in human form. When I’d finally tracked them down to ask for training, they were literally camped out on the side of a cliff. Sleeping in fucking sacks nailed to the rock wall. “My advice? Wait until the expansion and see if you can get one of the new ranger upgrades.”
He deflated. “Ah, shit. But they’re so badass...”
“Well, looks like we’re already getting along,” Ethan said. “Want to head inside so we can smash this out?”
“Good idea,” said Draz, turning for the portal that would take us to the dungeon. “Let me tell you our current strategy...”
The dungeon’s world location was somewhere over in the lizardman shoals, which was on the complete opposite side of the playable world from where we were. The area was a huge flat expanse of rock that went on for miles, and the sea periodically rose up to flood the place with about four inches of water.
As such, much of the rock had eroded away, leaving it looking like a massive chunk of very ancient swiss cheese. Tidepools and boulders littered the area, limiting freedom of movement and in the latter’s case, visibility too. Hence the name of the dungeon—Tidepool Forest.
The monsters were all aquatic in some way or another, which made fighting them a smelly, slimy affair. That was the absolute least of the problems with the place, though. Almost everything had some way to vomit, inject, or otherwise inflict you with toxic damage. It sucked.
Of course, that was why Ethan was here—to cleanse the toxic debuffs and heal away the damage.
“Careful!” Draz shouted unnecessarily. “The first pull is an ambush by Salablen scouts. Keep your guard up.”
Actually, it might not have been a totally useless callout. I had no idea how competent his friends were. Maybe they needed the reminder.
Sure enough, as we rounded a particularly massive boulder, I saw a flash of black scales up on one of the smaller rocks. A blow dart rose to thin lips, and there was a slight puff of noise. I lunged, summoning my wings in the process. The dart was aimed right at Ethan, but as my wings appeared, so too did one of my newest abilities.
Steelfeather Guard snapped into place, creating a shimmering shield of black and green feathers that deflected the dart. It spun wildly off into a nearby tidepool, splashing the water with the poison it’d been carrying and the acid from my attuned ability. The water very loudly proclaimed its displeasure my hissing everywhere the acid touched. A moment later, the graceful arc of feathers I’d summoned, faded from view as though they were swept away by a gust of wind into some other-realm—beyond sight.
“Shit!” Draz growled, and threw his arms wide. With a roar, he bathed the area in a red mist that lasted only a few brief seconds. “Come and get me, you slimy scale-faced bastards! Orisci will purge your filth from this land!”
I breathed a sigh of relief. That was a damn good taunt ability, even if the way he cast it was a little... odd. We might actually get through this. Hopefully.UppTodated from