The Rising of the Shield Heroine

Tale Swapper · Jul 29, 2022

The abandoned forge complex felt a little different as I browsed through my menu. For the first time, I wasn't here alone, and the differences were fairly stark.

"And you are sure you have no opinion on these options?"

I looked over at Gregor, once again very briefly startled by the small figure sitting in a rolling chair. While I'd known, intellectually, that Trainwreck's armor concealed a Case 53 (mom had drilled it into both my head and Emma's to never call someone a Monster. I should've known she was gone the minute she'd cast that advice aside) but his actual physical body was still a little disconcerting. Only a little, though.

And it was really cool to watch someone else tap away at the screens only I'd been able to consistently see. Something about my increased wisdom was letting me know that despite my Dad's acceptance and Allie's constant presence, I'd still been lacking in general peers. Gregor may have been older than me, but he was almost as new to the cape scene as I was, and had treated my revelation about my abilities with an appropriate amount of shock.

Granted, he'd been even more shocked when we came into the Abandoned Forge and cleared out the recently respawned summons. As a part of my party, he'd also gained a level from the fighting- which had immediately relegated 'Scrap Tinker' into his secondary slot, prompting him to choose a 'primary class'. After setting up his stuff in one of the larger interior rooms, he'd set himself into his chair and spent quite a bit of time carefully going through his options.

Apparently, there were different 'ranks' of available class options. Gregor had quickly discarded the lowest ranks, and had then moved on to going over his higher-ranked options. He'd had a wide range of common and a few uncommon classes, as well as a single rare class. But Gregor hadn't immediately reached for the rare class. And I could kind of understand his hesitance.

Goliath was a very powerful class; a strength-focused combat class, with a massive health pool and augments for heavy armor. But by the description, it forced the user into a brute-force, close-combat mentality, literally disabling clever tricks and advanced tactics. And it had no magic at all. For Gregor, it represented Trainwreck honed to its apex; a juggernaut of force with no intelligence or thought.

It wouldn't define him. But it wasn't what he wanted.

So he kept looking, reviewing the various other classes available. Goliath was still an option, but he wanted to go for something with more nuance if possible.

While he'd been reviewing his options, I'd been delving into the intricacies of the home base system. According to the gamer's interface, and Allie's guidance, I could declare a Dungeon I'd found and cleared at least once to be a Demesne; a permanent base I could modify and transform via magic and effort. Doing this would halt monster spawning, and would eventually enable me to relocate the entrance, make access public, or any number of any other features.

Since I didn't want Gregor to get attacked by fiery serpents in his sleep, I'd claimed the forge as my first (and currently, only) Demesne. That had opened a whole can of worms I was still trying to understand.

Apparently, I could reshape the forge using the innate magic of the dungeon… provided I could provide the resources needed to build new structures. And had the blueprints for anything I wanted to build available. And various skills could make objects more or less expensive to build, could unlock new crafting recipes, etc. Also, money could be used to 'brute-force' resource requirements....

If the guide to Demenses was a book, it'd probably have been a textbook. I was really glad Allie was there to work through all the minutiae, and summarize what I did or did not have access to. Together, we'd assembled a copious amount of notes, lists of 'must-haves' and high priority expansions to what was currently a mostly empty factory complex.

Unfortunately, one of the things I didn't have access to was a proper bedroom.

"Why the hell does creating a room with a bed cost so much?" I muttered, thumbing through the options.

"You wanted a room with a proper mattress, a side table, attached bathroom, and storage." Allie replied. "That's a lot of cloth and soft material we don't have. Bunks would be better."

"I'm not forcing Gregor to sleep in a tiny bunk. We have plenty of space."

Gregor cleared his throat. "I have my own cot and air mattress. Sleeping will not be a problem."

I sighed, moving the window to one side. "Maybe. But you deserve better than that. And even if I accept that, you still need a place to clean up and do your… business."

Allie sighed. "We can definitely salvage enough porcelain, copper, and lead to build a communal bathroom setup from what's already here. We're gonna need some bulk resources like glass and wiring if we want to do anything fancy, though. And cloth. Lots of cloth."

"Didn't we see some moldy bolts of cloth in the Boat Graveyard? Why did salvaging those get so little?"

"They were rotten, we were lucky to get a few square feet per bolt-"

"Done." Gregor spoke, closing his window. "I have made my selection."

I nodded, glancing at his window, then felt my eyebrows rise. "Oh."

Gregor Lagunov (???, Case 53)
Level 1 Squire (13)
Level 24 War Tinker (Scrap Specialty)
Race: Human (Case 53 Parahuman)
HP: 710/710 (160 + 550 Armor)
Stats:

Str: 37 (15 - 8 + 30)

End: 16

Agl: 25 (13 - 7 + 19)

Int: 25 (16 + 9)

Wis: 15 (18 - 3)

Luk: ?

Status Effects:
Parahuman: Scrap Crafter (Int +9, grants the 'Tinker' class tree and Scrap Specialty)
Case 53 (Str -8, Agl -7, Locks title and form)
Power Anxiety (Wis -3)

Torn from home dimension at the edge of death, Gregor lost his memories and his body in exchange for powers and life. Surfeit of any ties to this world, he has raged at his own existence and despaired at ever getting answers. He is carving out a new path thanks to you, abandoning his fears and false face. Will you prove worthy of his trust? Will he prove worthy of yours?

"...Squire?" I asked, peering at the screen in front of me. "What made you choose that?"

"You are a knight." Gregor said matter-of-factly. "Good appearance, good morals, good reputation. I gained access to that class because of you."

"I'm not a real knight!" I protested, my face heating up.

"You are close. Honor and courage, make the knights I read of. Or those in fantasy. You have both." He wheeled his chair a little closer. "I am rough, and in need of polish. The Squire is a class of those sort of people." He grinned. "Also, the class grants heavy armor, mounted skills, ranged skills, and melee improvements. Very wide ranging, with a possibility of magic at promotion. Even speaking skills; very important."

Well, when he put it that way… "Alright, I'm convinced. Not that it matters. Welcome aboard, Gregor; I can't promise to be your knight-master, but I'll try to live up to your expectations."

"Keep doing what you're doing." He paused. "And bring food when you can. Unless your Demesne can grow it?"

I took a look over my notes. "...it can, but I have no idea how to build or maintain a garden plot, and setting one up with straight cash is expensive. I can bring by some food soon, I guess, and we can work on production later if it's needed."

"Got it. I have some cans of beans stored in one of the boxes we brought. It will become pressing eventually, though."

I nodded absently, then paused as Gregor cleared his throat. "May I see your character sheet? I cannot access it on my own."

I blinked, then nodded. With a quick gesture, I pulled up my own sheet and spun it to face him.

Taylor Hebert (Heraldry, Rookie Cape)
Level 12 Warden of the Holy Shield (184/2000 EXP) (10+2)
Race: Human (Parahuman)
Health: 520/520 (300 + 220 Armor)
MP: 260/260
Stats:
Str: 22
End: 30
Agl: 26
Int: 26
Wis: 21 (22 - 1 Debuff)
Luk: ?

Stat Points: 58
Perk Points: (1 Special)

Status Effects:
Moody: (Wis -1, mental conditions erode 25% slower)
Power Anxiety (Sated): (Wis -0)

Gregor blinked as he looked over my character sheet, before his face scrunched in annoyance. "Broken. Your entire power is overwhelming." He considered for a moment, then shrugged. "I believe it's 'Can't beat then join?' At the very least, working with you will give me options."

I smiled, a little relieved. "Oh?"

"Having Scrap Tinker as a class has given me insight as to what is possible for my powers." He tapped a screen that popped up next to him. "Like the steam rifle, there is a lot of other things I could build, but did not because I was focused on armor. Now that all my options are laid out, it is a little overwhelming. But in a good way." His head turned, eyeing the more compact, sleeker armor sitting nearby. Getting a chance to examine it more closely, I could see that it was of a much higher quality than his old armor, and to a large degree better than my own. "I thought that was the best I could do. But now, seeing what could be, I am inspired."

I looked around the ad-hoc workshop he and I had set up in the rooms across from the forge. "Will you need more materials?"

"Yes, but not yet." He waved one tentacle towards the slagged form of his old armor laying in a pile nearby. "Salvaging that will be my first task. Pistons, joints, armor, padding; I can get a large amount of materials out of it." Looking around, he smiled. "Set up a machine shop here; better tools, and I could build something which does not look like it came of of a junkyard. Even my new armor will look crude by comparison."

"I look forward to seeing whatever you plan to make." I replied. "Let me know if you need anything I can salvage for you; you're going to need to lay low until Coil and his mercs stop looking for you."

"You are not worried for yourself?" Gregot waved one pseudopod, cutting off my reply. "No, you can just take off the mask and go home, correct? I do not have that luxury." He grimaced. "I am asking much of you. I would offer weapons, but you cannot use those, so you have my aid should you need to clean out another nest like this. Until I have armor which is not like Trainwreck's."

"Got it." I was about to say more when a chime came through my messaging system.

"I've kept Dad in the loop about what's going on, but he wants to talk to you in person." Allie said into my earpiece. "You're going to need to go circle around to avoid anyone tracing you; especially since we know Coil's out looking for you now."

"Right…" I sighed, looking up at Gregor. "Gotta go. My dad's a little worried that I ran off last night."

The Case 53 tilted his head. "...you are younger than I thought you were." He ventured. "Though then, I do not know how old I am." He mused quietly.

"...does that change anything?" I replied, tensing.

"No." The word was gruff and fast. "Nothing. You are my better in this; and I will follow. Do not consider age important; experience matters." He chuckled. "You know more than I. Especially with all this." He motioned to the screen hovering at his side. "You and your… spirit friend, will be more of a guide to me than I could be to you."

"Thank you." I stood, stretching, and re-donned my armor. "I'm going to try to make it home before dawn. Need to avoid being seen out and about as myself."

"The perils and power of wearing a mask, suppose." He acknowledged. "Take care, Heraldry."

I nodded, slamming my visor down. "And you as well, my friend."

I slipped over the fence and treaded to the backdoor, opening and closing it with as much quiet as I could. The lights were on in the kitchen, I knew Dad was up and waiting, but I didn't want to give the neighbors any reason to be suspicious.

The back door swung open on newly greased hinges, and I stepped inside with a groan. My advance was checked when Dad, face pinched, looked up at me. "Taylor." His voice was stern, and he held up a hand to forestall any comments. "Sit down."

I winced, sitting across from him. "Dad-"

"Allie's filled me in on what happened." He cut off my interjection. "I know this was time sensitive." He set his hands on the table, folding them together. "But you should have woken me up to tell me what you were trying to do."

I swallowed. "Dad, I didn't want to wake you. You have work in a couple of hours." Even as I spoke, I winced at the weakness of the excuse.

Dad seemed to think the same thing. "I'd rather take a half-day off to catch up on my sleep rather than spend an entire day off searching because my daughter is missing." He said, voice trembling slightly. "I woke up from a nightmare, and it was only because Allie was able to let me know what was happening that I didn't run off to try and find you." He let out a breath, shoulders falling slightly. "You need to let me know what you're doing, Taylor. Allie is good, but she can't bail you out if you get in trouble. Not yet."

Allie's voice cut from the speaker attached to the phone. "Dad's right, Taylor. Gregor's going to be good backup, but the only other people we can call on if something happens are the police and the PRT. And doing that will raise a lot of questions."

I tensed, about to fire back, before my brain caught up with my tongue. I closed my eyes, letting the anger turn to ash and dissipate before responding. "Okay, I should have let you know. This shouldn't be a regular thing, but in case it happens again, what should I do, dad?"

Dad nodded. "Wake me up, Taylor. I'm used to sleeping fitfully, so I can just set regular alarms, or doze until Allie gives me a warning. But I never want to wake up expecting you to be abed only to find you gone, understood?"

"Yes sir." I groused. Dad was right to be worried, and it was good that he was paying attention. Still a little irksome, though.

"Thank you." He clapped his hands. "Alright. I'm not going to punish you for this. Someone you knew asked for help, and you went. That's the right thing to do. There will be consequences if it happens again." Dad smiled, relief causing the wrinkles around his eyes to loosen. "Okay, now, Allie told me you chose your class?"

"Yeah, I chose the magic one."

"Going to be a proper paladin, hmm?" Dad murmured. "Well, I think you would have done well as a knight build, but that's fine." He began to flip through a notebook he'd been reading over, and I stood up and took a look at the pages he had open, my eyes widening. Dad had been taking pretty detailed notes about me, using the nomenclature of his old tabletop games. He glanced up at me, grinning. "Helps me keep your very strange powers in perspective."

I nodded. "Alright. Any insight?"

"No, but then I don't know what Perk you unlocked when you promoted." He glanced up at me. "What'd you choose?"

I shook my head. "Haven't taken a look yet; was too busy with some of the new systems. Has Allie filled you in on the Demense system yet?"

"I think she mentioned you had a base now." he said. "Are we going to have to go furniture shopping?"

"I've got my contacts across the city, remember? Probably better if I lean on those." I brought up my 'Old-School Shopping Network' Quest. I'd already spoken to eight of the various craftsmen and women scattered across the city, but four remained. I hadn't had a need to speak to a Farm Arts craftsman or a construction surplus firm yet; though considering my new base, that had changed.

"Fair. Let me know if you need me to snag a truck from the motor pool" He turned back to his book. "Since you're so full of energy and concerned for my work habits, why don't you handle breakfast this morning?"

"Sure thing, Dad." I headed over to the fridge, humming slightly. "When I go perk hunting, any suggestions?"

"See if there's any metamagic feats. Ignore anything which just grants more spells or mana." Dad offered. "Flexibility is more important than volume when it comes to spells."

"In game, or in practice?" I wondered as I pulled eggs and milk from the fridge. "Also, sweet or savory?"

"Savory."

I pulled cheese and bacon from the fridge to add to my inventory, before heading over to the stove, ejecting my ingredients onto the counter. "I'll take a look over my perks after breakfast. Are you going to head into work today?"

"I will." He gave me a deeper look. "Also, until and unless you turn into a Noctis cape, we're going to talk about curfews or sleeping schedules once you get back to class."

I froze, lips tightening. "...that's next week, isn't it."

"Yup. Have you been keeping up with your studies?"

I nodded slowly. "I think so. I mean, I've been doing some studying daily, and I think my improved memory will help…"

"If you've been doing your best to keep up, you'll do fine, Taylor." Dad said, shutting his book and standing. "I'm going to go freshen up, be back in ten."

I nodded absently, considering what was going to come next. "Got it, Dad."

Author's Note: Mid-December. Well, I'm either seven months late or five months early. Very sorry about that.

My delays on this chapter are mostly rooted in starting a new side project (which has been going well but not as well as I'd hoped) and working on ~~three~~ four separate collabs with the ever-industrious Miho Chan. Follow her stuff and check out my other works, if you will. I promise, they don't disappoint, even with the lack of Worm.

Hopefully, now that I've gotten over the fact that I couldn't remember Taylor's actual stats and have given up tracking the minuet of her EXP the updates will come more frequently. If anyone wants to work out exactly what her actual stats would be and let me know, that'd be great. Seriously, do other Gamer fic writers just have a spreadsheet ready from the get-go? Is that what I did wrong?

Tale Swapper · Aug 2, 2022

Party Classes Information

Taylor:
Primary: Chosen of the Holy Shield -> Warden of the Holy Shield (Special Class, Heroic)
Stat Gains: ~~+1 END, +1 RAND, +5 Points p/level~~ -> +1 END, +1 WIS, +1 INT, +1 RAND, +5 Points per Level
Tags: Hero, Unique, Tank, Caster
Chosen of the Holy Shield Skills: Shield Bash, Shield Rush, Shield Throw, My Body is the Shield
Warden Skills: Heal, Mage Burst, Enchant Weapon, Battle Casting, Apprentice Metamagic, Armor Training, Elemental Magic
Special: Weapon Slot(s) Locked. EXP to Level 1/5 standard for all party members. Grants all other party members +3 Points per level, Bound Equipment: Holy Shield
One of the Legendary Holy Weapon classes, bound to the Shield. A staunch defender, with the potential to rival the gods and shake the world.

Secondary: -none-

Gregor:
Primary: Squire
Stat Gains: +1 END, +2 RAND
Tags: Trainee, Knight
Skills: Melee, Conditioning, Ride, Learn, Survival, Speechcraft, Ranged, Service, Command
Special: Gain 2 Weapon proficiencies (at levels 3 and 8), Armor Agility Mitigation Reduction (at level 6)
It's said that the path to knighthood is made of trials great and small. Those that walk it start weak, but have their eyes set on a glorious horizon.

Secondary: Scrap Tinker
Level Cap: 65
Stat Gains: +1 INT
Skills: Engineering, Demolition, Armorcraft, Weaponcraft, Tinker(Scrap Specialization), Blacksmithing, Armored Combat
Tags: Parahuman, Tinker, Craftsman, Harvester
Special: Grants the 'Crude Hyper-Furnaces' Recipe Codex. Levelling increases crafting synergies and grants crafts skill levels. Inflicts Power Anxiety.
To make armor from a box of scraps and craft generators from the remains of times long past; ugly and unrefined, but power as strong as any gleaming steel.

Madison:
Primary: Wild Witch
Stat Gains: +1 AGL, +2 WIS, +1 RAND
Tags: Hybrid, Caster, Rare, Witch
Skills: Hermitcraft, Elemental Magic, Archery, Formshift, Survival, Herbalism, Hexcraft
Special: Unlocked Crafting trees via Hermitcraft start at its level, EXP gain from crafting
A young witch running free, forsaking the greater and more terrible magical arts in exchange for self-sufficiency and a connection to nature.

Secondary: -none-

Tale Swapper · Aug 2, 2022

"Strike team in position. Ready to attack on your order, sir."

Thomas Calvert scowled as he looked through the body cameras of his soldiers. Recruiting Trainwreck was supposed to be a milk run, and he'd even gotten permission from his patrons to dangle false hope in front of his eyes. He'd not even bothered to split the timeline of the actual meeting, instead using the split to handle a difficult negotiation with one of his out of town suppliers.

When he'd finished up that timeline, he'd discovered that the Monster Cape had rejected the deal, as was preparing to walk off with the knowledge of his infiltration plans. The hastily assembled ambush had nearly worked, but it hadn't been enough to secure the tinker's demise.

Now he was caught assaulting a Tinker in his own workshop. Not a worst-case scenario; Trainwreck hardly had any reinforcements and was unlikely to have any but the crudest of traps available. This would be simple enough.

Splitting the timeline, he sent one team in via the west entrance, only to wince as they were cut to shreds. Several dropped and re-split timeline later, he confirmed that Trainwreck had a second suit, and had multiple layers of simple defenses and traps. There was no easy way in; he'd have to coordinate a three-pronged assault.

"Sweep in on my mark." Calvert split the timeline, lips tensing. Aloud, he spoke. "Team C, breach. A and B, follow up in thirty seconds."

In the other world, Calvert spoke aloud. "Team A, breach. Team B and C, follow up in thirty seconds."

As the timelines moved ahead, Calvert felt a strange pulse jarring his thoughts. His second timeline collapsed, and as he toppled over head cracking under his first thinker headache, he couldn't help but blink as he saw a green pane of light shimmer into existence above him.

This feature is considered DLC content. Please purchase the 'Rising of the Shield Heroine' content expansion to access this information, or purchase our strategy guide. Thank you, have a nice day!

Reality Development: TSW Studios

"...what?"

Tale Swapper · Aug 7, 2022

After a breakfast of bacon, eggs, and skillet potatoes, Dad headed off to work. I took a seat, pulling up the interface to take a look at my options for my 'special' perks.

Current Available Perks:

Gamer's Mind: Grants the Gamer's Mind Passive Skill at Max Level

Wanderlust: Enables the minimap (if not already activated), grants the Waypoint Travel Active Skill, and the Seeker Passive Skill

Know When to Fold: allows you to see your luck stat, and allows you to unlock luck-related skills, abilities, and perks

Munchkining: Enables the acquisition of Secondary Classes, and grants access to two secondary classes not already unlocked

Boss Rush: allows the construction of the Boss Arena in your Demesne, and grants a compendium of 24 stratified bosses to fight therein

Speedrunning: causes time passage in Dungeons to quadruple compared to the outside world. May be toggled on and off for Demesne

Double Up: Trade your single Special Perk for two normal perk points. Sometimes, the base game is all you need

I blinked twice. "Allie, I don't remember most of these being options."

"Well, the one which allowed you to unlock the Party System has been removed. You already grabbed the one which would allow you to get items out of the system directly, so that's gone. The last three options are entirely new, though." Allie replied, apparently looking at my options. "Well, Gamer's Mind…"

"Is still out."

"Yeah, yeah… Luck still hasn't been a huge factor, and I'm almost positive there's a way to unlock seeing it naturally."

"My luck's always been horrible. Until now, I guess." I mused. "I don't think I'm going to waste time worrying about it, not when I have some control over my fate."

"Wanderlust would cut down on travel time…"

"Pass." I thought about some of the options for my base. "Couldn't we instead set up gates to and from my Demesne around the city? We've got the map feature already."

"True. Secondary Classes are great, but we're pretty close to unlocking that system anyway at level 15. Boss Rush is really just there if you need or want to grind for high-end materials, but considering how we lack any means of resurrecting if we fail one…"

"That's a thing?"

"There's a lot of options which allow you to shrug off death. Wouldn't surprise me if we already meet the requirements for one or two of those."

I hummed. "So that leaves Speedrunning." I paused. "Dungeons are going to get longer, right? And it took a while to craft my armor…"

"More hours in the day are always useful." Allie allowed. "We can't use it constantly; but in short bursts to sturdy or craft…"

I nodded, tapping the last of the options, letting it lock in, then pressing 'no' over the option to speed up my Demesne. Wouldn't make sense to speed up time when we're trying to get Gregor out of sight for a week. As the screens shifted to my perks page, I stopped, noting a pair of perks which hadn't been there before. "Wait…"

Grail from Garbage
One man's trash can be made into another man's treasure.
Attempts to Refine trash, scrap, or common level materials will always succeed at maximum effectiveness. Refine crafting projects do not have a critical failure state. Transmute's maximum loss level reduced to 25%
Recruitment Bonus: Gregor Lapunov

Slapdash Creation
Improvisation can create wonders, so long as you aren't concerned with long-term durability…
Sub-par materials can be substituted for their proper counterparts at a 15% durability and 5% effectiveness cost per rank of inferior material used on final product.
Teammate Bonus: Gregor Lapunov

The first Perk was excellent; the second was interesting, though I winced at the cost to the final product. Closing the menu, I spoke aloud. "So, I get perks for recruiting and keeping people in my party?"

"According to the manual? Yep. Something about encouraging the gathering of a proper adventuring group." I heard rustling pages, causing me to raise both eyebrows; I knew for a fact Allie did all her work though the system. "Someone put a lot of effort into giving you the most bang for your buck without making it actually easy to succeed. Big rewards, but you need to work for them."

I nodded, thinking back to the scowling statue hanging out in the space beside Allie. "That makes some sense. That guy doesn't look like someone who gives anything away."

"No kidding."

I stood, brushing myself off and heading over to do the breakfast dishes. As I finished putting them into the dishwasher, I let my thoughts become words. "All of this – recruiting Gregor, unlocking my Demesne, and feeling the bullets ping off my armor – we need to get some enchantments, magical materials, and spell capability." I looked over at the basement, my brow furrowing. "If we had the right skills and materials, we could put a door to and from the Demesne downstairs, and save a ton of travel time and risk."

"That's pricey, but doable." Allie allowed. "But it's not like martial arts skills and steel. We can't get what we need in the real world."

"So we need to go dungeon diving again." I finished. "Fine. I'm setting 'getting magical skills and materials' as a priority in the system." I logged the priority, watching as it spawned the appropriate quest for me.

*ding*

New Quest!
A Certain Magical Primer
Mages need many things; fortunately, the bare essentials are things seeped in spiritual energy. The best place to go is a place spirits linger, so it's time to go grave robbing! Sort of.
Tasks:* Visit the Crypt of Bones Dungeon, and clear the top three floors.
*Locate the hidden Lab and claim the materials and knowledge therein
*Bonus: Clear the fourth and fifth floor of the Dungeon
Success: +500 EXP, Magical Reagants Loot Bag (normal)
Improved Success: ???
Failure Condition: 1 Month without clearing the basic requirements
Failure: -25% magic skills EXP for 1 Month

"Allie, is there…"

"Yeah, there's a cartoon on Aleph called 'A Certain Magical Index.' The name is a pun, though one which is a bit of a stretch."

"Someone thinks they have a sense of humor." I muttered.

"Are we going today?" Allie asked.

"Nope." I walked upstairs. "One, we should talk about it with Dad. Two, I want to bring Gregor along."

"Having someone to guard your back would make things a lot easier…"

"My thoughts exactly." I replied. "For now, though, I need to study."

"A new router? Did the old one give up the ghost already?" Mr. Douglas eyed me over the counter of his shop, looking down at the most expensive component of my shopping. "I don't do refunds on the parts, but for boxed products…"

I'd come back to Operator Errors on my way through my daily run, handling my shopping one piece at a time. On the way, Allie had passed me a quick list of things Gregor thought he'd need for his new hideout, along with a few food requests. I'd managed to stuff everything I'd bought thus far into my inventory, and had circled around to the scrap electronics shop near the tail end of my journey.

"No, the old router's working fine. Our home wifi's doing fine." I assured my first ally in Brockton Bay's commercial scene. According to Miss Ashwood (an apothecary who seemed touched I was interested in her herb bundles) they considered themselves an 'alternative to the corporate machine.' Shaking off my reflections, I continued to speak. "I recently set up a little clubhouse for myself and my friends. I wanted to set up wifi there."

Douglas nodded, his face oddly passive. "I see." He looked over the empty shop, then eyed the doors. "And would these friends be spandex-wearers, perhaps?"

I froze, then reflexively Observed the man as I recognized him as a threat.

Charles Douglas
Level 14 Handyman
Race: Human
HP: 150/150
Stats:
Str: 14
End: 16
Agl: 12
Int: 28 (21 +7)
Wis: 17 (19 - 2)

Status Effects:
Old Scars (Max HP-10)
Ghosts of a Gift (Int+7, Wis-2, Resistance to 'Cog in the Machine' Halved)
Cog in the Machine: Dormant (Renders subject subservient to caster)

An old man who made a poor decision out of desperation, but was wise enough to avoid compounding it. Douglas still regrets ever accepting Teacher's gift, even as he shrugged off his mental control. The memories of the skill Teacher gave him still haunt and inspire him- and make him fear what would happen should Teacher return. Still, Douglas has carved out a good life for himself, and his contacts across the country can provide him with odds and ends to satisfy his natural urge to fiddle with interesting technology.

The word slipped from my lips even as I finished reading. "Teacher…"

Charles' eyes widened, but his shock gave way to laughter. "Hah! Yes, young one, I guess that proves what I've suspected; and now you've got leverage on me, too." He emerged from behind the counter and moved to the door, flipping around the open sign. He held the door ajar for me. "We should talk. Jerry has an excellent lunch special."

Reeling from the revelations and the changing situation, I shook it off, barely noticing the Event trigger popping up. "Wait, what are we doing?"

"You want an explanation. I want confirmation of what I've suspected, and would like you to agree not to tell people about me." He winced slightly. "Folks get nervous around mastered people. Doesn't matter if the effect is gone."

I hesitantly nodded. "Alight. And who's Jerry?"

Jerry, as it turns out, was a fry cook. And a lunch god.

I couldn't help but moan as I bit down on my burger, letting the juicy meat and savory bacon juices roll across my tongue. As I swallowed my bite, I had to hold myself back from immediately taking another. "Okay, how did I not know about this place?" I asked my dining companion. "I don't think I can ever eat at Fugly Bob's again."

Douglas chuckled. "One, it's a little pricier than Fugly's. Two, it's out of the way, and unlike Bob's, doesn't advertise. Three, Jerry only opens six days a week from ten to five; no dinner crowd, no delivery, and no late-night service." He motioned to his milkshake. "But between Jerry, Betty, and Al, the Red Caboose serves the best lunch grub this side of town.

I couldn't help but agree as I looked around the little diner made up of three refurbished shipping containers and the eponymous red caboose, all attached to a small brick building. Douglas and I sat in the corner of one of the shipping container booths, each with a burger, pile of fries, three assorted fried bits (I had two hush puppies and an onion ring, while Douglas had two rings and a skewer of fried pickles) and a milkshake. For twelve dollars apiece, it was a high price for lunch, but not too much considering how much food we got.

Taking another bite of my burger, I studied the older man across from me, wiping my chin. "So. Teacher?"

Douglas sighed. "Not much to tell you, to be honest. The man came to speak at the college I worked for very early in his career. That was… fifteen years ago?" He shook his head. "At the time, everyone was fascinated with tinker tech, trying to replicate it and data-mine it for new developments. I was doing my thesis on… well, it doesn't really matter." He looked down. "I'd hit a dead end on my research. The device I was experimenting on was running down, and I'd had no success understanding what principles it ran off of. When Teacher made a tour of my labs, he offered a 'test' of his power; the ability to understand some of the higher and deeper physics behind the device. Framed it very casually, while implying I might come work for him if I liked the effects."

"And you took it."

"I did. I spent maybe three days feverishly exploiting his 'gift'. Working myself to the bone, using every scrap of data and power, endless cups of coffee to stay awake." He groaned. "I woke up two days after finishing my studies, passed out on the table. For all that his power had been brilliant, it had faded. And my first urge was to go to him for another fix."

He paused, and I watched the lines on his face deepen. "I'd… experimented with harder drugs in my youth. I knew that feeling, that addiction, from the first brush. It made me stop, kept me from going back to him before he left campus, left the city. Gave me enough time and distance to fight off the urges, puzzle through the data left behind." He sighed. "Of course, when the review board found out I'd abused a parahuman power, they tore my thesis apart. Perhaps they were right; and Teacher likely was counting on that to drive me back to him."

"But you didn't. You went into the electronics trade, instead." I summarized.

"I did. I told everyone I could about my experiences, everyone who I thought would accept my words without thinking they were just sour grapes. And then I left academia, and took my knowledge elsewhere." He shugged. "Turns out, even without Teacher's direct gift, some of the connections he forged still remained."

"The control isn't gone. It's just dormant." I explained. "That's what I'm reading off you, anyway."

Douglas sighed. "I thought as much. I've kept track of every story and report on that man that hits the web, and there've been eight attempts by his former 'students' to get him out of the Birdcage. Legal challenges, hostage situations, political maneuvers." He swallowed a gulp of milkshake. "If he ever gets out, I'm staying as far away from him as I can get. I don't need the temptation, and he'd likely not let me go, since I was one of his earliest detractors."

I nodded, swallowing the last bite of my burger. "And now you're here in the Bay."

"I bought my shop nine years ago, just after the cargo ship got sunk in the bay. The building went dirt cheap, and I expected things to pick up after the tanker got moved." He shook his head. "Instead, the whole city went to pot. But I'm doing fine, and the world keeps turning."

"None of that really explains how you knew I was a cape."

Douglas tapped his lips. "I recognize the look you get sometimes. Like you're seeing on a deeper level than most can get from their five senses. I've felt it too, back when I had Teacher's poison pouring through me. Meet enough Tinkers and Thinkers, and you can tell the signs." He nodded once. "And here's where I make my pitch, because you've been hella lucky thus far."

I eyed him, considering what he could mean, trying to connect the dots. Coming up blank, I shook my head. "You're going to explain what you mean, Mr. Douglas."

"You're a tinker; or at least, you make stuff." Reaching into one pocket, he tapped something, rotating it so I could see a rough sketch of an armored figure with a whirling scarf. With no weapon and a mounted shield, I could tell it was possibly the first piece of Heraldry fanart. "You stopped by John's metalworking shop, and then a fortnight later this cape debuts. Not pointing fingers, but I bet I know who made that armor. Tinkers always need materials, and you would've given yourself away eventually if you ever needed more exotic supplies."

I acknowledged his observation with a nod, then ventured my own observation. "You wouldn't have 'outed' me without a specific reason. You could have just kept our business as is; instead, you reached out directly, but not without sharing a lot of info I could easily confirm, so you're not aiming for blackmail." I paused. "You mentioned that you enjoy working with tinkertech several times, and that I'd likely need more supplies. Do you want me to do business with you?"

Douglas grinned. "Exactly." He tapped the table. "I've been a PRT consultant a time or two, but I've also dealt with Toybox, the Bronze Bench, and Dragontech a time or two as a purchaser or assessor. There's a lot of material which passes through Brockton on it's way north, not to mention those two idiots Uber and Leet." He smiled back at me. "You can pick up any specialty materials through me, and it won't look weird to any gangs or agencies which track those sorts of purchases."

Thinking quickly, I spoke. "And I bet you could fence any of the stuff I gather or create in exchange for a cut." As he nodded, I thought hard. "Alright. I think we can work together."

"Excellent." His face turned grave. "Stay alive, please. You seem like a good kid, and I'd rather not lose a business partner so soon after I found her."

I responded with a wry grin, my head spitting out an idea. "Actually, I do have a question, one which would make me safer. What do you know about Coil?"

The man across from me frowned. "Hmm. Now, that's a new name on the scene, and not much weight behind it. You've picked an obscure subject, Miss Hebert."

"You don't know anything?"

"Didn't say that." Douglas waved his hand. "I don't know much, but I do know that most of his men aren't locals. They're hired mercenaries, armed with imported tinkertech. One of my contacts said that a caravan of men headed into the Bay a few months ago. The snake has to have a base in town, a big one; none of the other gangs have reported his men claiming lodgings, and I've not heard of any hotels getting a large number of permanent residents."

"If he has a major base, he's planned this setup for a while." I mused.

"Especially if he's bringing in men without any local loyalties. He's preparing for something big."

I nodded, finishing off my meal. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it. Just remember to reach out if you need anything brought into the city." Douglas chuckled. "We heading back for you to pick up your purchases?"

I nodded, before I stopped and looked over his shoulder at the counter. "Actually… do you think they'd put together something to go?"

Gregor grunted as he chewed through his burger. "Contact with the wider community is no small thing."

"Yeah, I can't help but agree. Is there anything you need in particular?" I asked, looking at him.

"Yes, but not by special order." Gregor finished off his burger, one pseudopod scooping a few fries over to him. "I have been practicing with my new skills; the scrap you brought from my old shop was easily reclaimed with Demolition. I will need more scrap, and preferably more salvaged engines and materials to practice on." He turned his gaze towards the forge. "...also, good steel. Spring steel, or maybe some good tool steel, I could make use of."

Remembering my abbreviated searches on types of steel, I arced an eyebrow. "Forging a sword?"

"Yes." He mumbled. "Bare hands was fine for intimidation, or brutal fighting; but I wish to be different than Trainwreck." He finished off another scoop of fries. "A sword, yes; but also, perhaps, an ax. Something with weight, to make proper use of the strength of my armors."

"So, we need to go on a salvaging run." At his nodded response, I pulled up a screen, looking over my inventory. "I could stand to polish up my armor, too. Right, let me call my dad."

A brief conversation with Dad later, and we'd hashed out a plan. I'd go home for dinner, and then Dad would drive me out and drop me closer to the docks and the Forge. I'd link up with Gregor, and the two of us would move under cover to the boat graveyard and the abandoned shipping containers for another round of salvaging.

As I finished my call, I couldn't help but shoot Gregor a look, only to find him looking idly at the wall, eyes unfocused. "Are… are you alright?"

"Yes and no." He replied after a long moment. "Yes, in that this is better than I have had. No, because I wonder who I left behind. Before Trainwreck. Who was Gregor Lapunov?"

I shook my head. "I'm sorry."

"Pheh. I am fine. Just wondering." The warped man smiled at me, face relaxed. "I have seen your powers, and what they are capable of. You will find a way to bring him back, I know."

Touched, I reached out, holding out my hand until the fleshy tentacle of Gregor's pseudopod wrapped around it. "I'll do my best, Gregor."

Thanks again to @nemo1685 for their help proofreading the chapter![/hr]

Tale Swapper · Aug 17, 2022

I planted my fingers into the cracks between the two doors on the shipping container, grunting as the rusted doors swung open. Beneath me, Gregor's metal hands caught me as I fell from my precarious perch, quickly shifting into a throw to put me back into the now-open container. With help, I was able to get into some of the more sheerly stacked containers, plumbing the depths of previously untouched shipments.

"Anything good in this one?" Gregor called up to me as I turned on my flashlight, sweeping the stacked internals. Stepping forward as he spoke, I pulled a heavy tarp off the shrouded object within, before the sight beneath caused me to stop dead. I didn't respond as I stared, incredulously, at the grill of the tan vehicle inside.

"Looks like a pair of… Humvees? Military surplus." I clambered inside, looking over the former military vehicle. Leaning over, my eyes widened as I saw the wooden crates laying inside. "And maybe more stuff, too. Someone was shipping US castoffs."

Gregor laughed, the sound echoing within his helmet. "Excellent!" He then sobered, as he and I came to the same realization. That particular crate was situated on the fourth layer of a large stack, and my new partner voiced his own thoughts. "Though… how are we going to get them out?"

"We could just salvage them for the metal… Be a huge waste, though." I acknowledged, then headed back to the door and looked down at my partner. "You're not strong enough to lift this, are you?"

Gregor's helmet shifted, and I could hear the regret in his voice. "This armor can lift six hundred pounds easily, a thousand at a stretch. How much…"

Allie chipped in over comms. "Military Humvee weigh anywhere from five thousand to six thousand pounds." She thought for a moment. "We could leave them for now, then come back with help from Dad. Not like anyone else is going to take them…"

I looked back, nearly whimpering at the second big find of the night. This was our ninth container which hadn't actually been opened and looted before, and the wealth of materials and opportunities of the two military vehicles made me anxious. We'd struck rubbish twice; two crates filled with rot and decay. Three had contained raw material; steel, leather, and cloth. One had been filled with sealed containers of cocoa; another was filled with propane tanks; some had leaked out, but many were still stable. There'd been another container filled with tools and hand machinery. The other big find had contained wooden chests packed in crates; each filled with genuine silverware.

I sighed as I eyed the humvees. "We can leave the trucks, but let's get at the stuff inside. I think I have enough inventory space…" Gregor had his own inventory as a party member, but on experimentation, it wasn't that big. With only thirty slots to my still-growing hundreds, he could stash quite a bit of material, but I was the real pack mule between the two of us.

Slipping up to the top of the first humvee, I picked the lock on the roof latch and squirmed in through the top, nearly landing on the wooden crates inside. Salvaging the crate took only a few moments, but as the wooden construction shifted to a few planed boards, the contents scattered through the interior, and I froze as a selection of long, narrow weapons clattered to the bed of the vehicle. I quickly scooped the firearms and ammunition into my inventory.

"Oh. Well… that's gonna be interesting. Think the DWU could use an armory?" Allie asked as she watched me dissipate the last shotgun.

"Unless we want to hand them over to the police, maybe." I muttered. "This has to have been a weapons deal, or something."

"Or preppers. Private security buying surplus. Some bigwig wanted a fully kitted defense force. Who knows?" Allie countered. "Ours now. And the police would either lose them, send them to the army, or some corrupt ass would sell them to the gangs."

I sighed, conceding the point as I raided the lockboxes of the other Humvee. Heading back to the exit, I sealed the container and dropped to the ground. Looking over at Gregor, I saw the armored helmet gazing into the distance, towards the sounds of sirens. "Thinking deep thoughts again?"

"Nay. Police are busy. Apparently, Squealer is tearing up the outer trainyard. Not near our base." He sounded pensive. "Should we be helping with that?"

I sighed, my own feelings lowering a bit, but my voice held steady. "Neither of us are ready to take on Squealer's tanks, if we could even catch her. Do you think you can knock together a serviceable melee weapon over the next couple of days?"

"Will not be difficult, no."

"Once you've done that, we can hit the dungeon together, and then we should have the skills and materials needed to start patrolling." I elbowed the man, metal bouncing off metal with a clang. "We'll be out and about in less than a week."

Gregor nodded, then turned back to eye the marked crate. "Tomorrow night, we should come back here. I can assemble a lift for the cars; the parts will not be hard to find." He looked back at me. "Do you think your father could help?"

"With driving them?"

"Da. Or getting some of his subordinates." At my questioning look, Gregor's suit moved in a rough approximation of a shrug. "He is boss. I have heard that name spoken of him."

"He's just the hiring manager," I countered.

"But he is the highest still working. Thus, the boss." Gregor shrugged again as we began to trot towards a different stack of crates. "You trust him with your identity. Mine is no secret. If he can trust others, all the better."

I winced. "Maybe. For now, we should be able to…" My drive to continue raiding containers was cut off as something white dropped in front of me. Then several more, coming in a dusting pattern.

Gregor looked up, then snorted. "The weather is telling us to retreat. The forge is warm… and out of the weather."

I groaned, looking around at all the still-unopened crates. "Fine. We can come back later." As we began to weave our way out of the containers, I couldn't help but stop at a brief thump from overhead. Looking up, my eyes widened as a dark figure leapt between the piles of unclaimed freight, a dark blur which faded into the dusk outside the range of our flashlights. "Wait-"

"I saw it." Gregor rumbled, even as he moved to watch the upper tiers, unlimbering his spike thrower and hooking it to his armor. "Was moving quickly."

I nodded, and called up my inventory. With a green flash, I shifted from my rough scavenging apparel to my armor, the enchantments on my helm altering my voice and demeanor. "We will stand against-" I began, only for a shrill squeal of shock to echo through the air.

Seconds later, the black form vaulted over the edge of the crates, tumbling gracefully to the ground before it ran over to us. "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh it's you!" I jerked back as the figure closed the distance, my eyes widening beneath my visor.

The figure stood a scant inch shorter than myself, perhaps shorter than her actual height based on the slight bend to her knees. A lithe body rested beneath tattered black and gray clothing, several pouches of leather and cloth hanging from a pair of belts looped around sturdy hips. A long knife was thrust through a makeshift sheath, and the whole ensemble was mounted by an open black hoodie.

What was most striking was her features. A long, curved nose framed above a wide smiling mouth, yellow-brown eyes blinking between a hedge of black feathers sprouting from dusky flesh. Messy black hair spilled out from beneath her hood, interspersed with more feathers, and the skin on her fingers and bare feet was a dark gray, complimenting her long black nails. Finally, her arms were covered in more of the black feathers, which seemed to have allowed her to mitigate her fall.

The girl squealed as she got close, before abruptly composing herself. "Um- ah- you probably don't remember me, I looked a lot different, but–" She cut off, clasping her hands together. "Oh gosh, I thought you were villains, but you're Heraldry! This is perfect!"

Gregor lowered his gun, gazing at the little woman in concern. "Ah. Are you a case 53? Do you-"

The girl cut him off before he could speak. "No! I mean, maybe? But I have all my memories, and no tattoo, so probably not?" She shook her head. "Heraldry saved me!"

I blinked twice. "Wait… child, I have saved only…" I paused, then cast Observe. There was no way…

Madison Clements (???, Redemption Seeker)
Level 2 Wild Witch (2)
Race: Birdman [Raven] (Human)
HP: 120/120
MP: 110/110
Stats:

Str: 11

Agl: 19

End: 12

Int: 11

Wis: 16

Luk: ?

Status Effects:
A Face not Your Own (Inactive) (Allows you to return to your old- and false- self at will)
Burden of Guilt (You can never forget what you did and failed to do. You haven't forgiven yourself, yet you think you know a way… Locks in 'Redemption Seeker' title.)
Redemption Seeker (You will break if you walk the path you did before, and you cannot stay here. Forces mandatory quests. Boosts EXP gain by 25% when completing heroic actions.)
Chilled (You are very cold. Energy restoration halved, HP regeneration nullified.)

Old guilt and self-hatred slowly cool, but the pain will linger. Offered a chance, she accepted a new face- near-monstrous, something to hide the self she hates. The path she flies now is one of redemption, born on the wings of ravens.

"...Madison Clements." I cocked my head even in the midst of my shock, letting the words born by my lips form around the enchantments in my helm. "You seem… different."

"Yeah." Her wide grin twisted into a grimace. "Not exactly what I thought would happen… but I kinda deserve it." She let out a cawing laugh. "The face matches the soul, I guess."

Something in me broke a little at the wretched lilt of those words. Seeing someone who was ultimately an old adversary consider herself so poorly… Well, considering the last two times I'd met her, there wasn't much anger left. Disdain, and some little hatred; but no real anger. "I would say that you've traded one gift for another, perhaps."

"You don't know what I did." She said softly, before my hand settled on her shoulder.

"I do, actually. And perhaps it is right that you feel that way, but I hope that it is a transient reflection." I looked her over, evaluating the status my observation had revealed. Despite her evident cheer, Madison shivered slightly in the snowy wind. "...why are you not home?"

Madison flinched. "My parents… they were trying to shield me. I know that's what they should do, but I chose this." She motioned to her form. "I wasn't going to let them shove me into the Wards or keep me home. I needed to find you."

I took a step back. "I saved you for your own sake, young lady. You do not need to join me to repay that."

"I know! But the…" She shook her head. "You won't believe me, but I need to seek the shield. That's you, right?" She looked at the silver shield slung over my arm.

Gregor shifted beside me. "...I do not understand all that is going on. But you wish to aid us, yes? What can you do?"

Madison perked up. "Oh! Well, I can turn into a bird, and I have some… magic? I guess?" She opened her fingers, a few flickers of green light forming around her black nails. "I can do more with it, but not much yet. I've also got some urges to make… potions? And some sort of talismans."

I sighed. Madison had a proper class, one which seemed derived from my system, or wherever it came from. Was someone meddling to give me help? Was it right to accept? After a few moments, I made a quick decision. "Come along. We will talk more at our base."

"Yes, I mean, right!" Madison gave a throaty chirp. "So, Heraldry, who's your friend?"

Gregor shifted. "Ah, my name is Gregor, girl. But you may call me Bogatyr."

"Umm." She trotted beside us, head tilted. "What does that mean?"

"It is a term for knight, coming from Russia." Gregor explained. "I am trying to live up to it."

Madison leaned to one side, looking at his back and the gun slung there. "I mean, the armor's nice, I guess…"

"To be sure, my gear is a work in progress." Gregor allowed. "And I have yet to build my arms. We were on a mission to harvest material from these abandoned places."

Madison cooed. "That's cool." She looked at me. "So are you going to get a sword or something?"

"Nay. I cannot wield a weapon. My shield is a jealous tool, and allows no competition." I explained, cringing slightly at the wording. I liked the helm, but…

"Oh. Well, I've seen you fight. You do really well anyway." She complimented. "How long have you been doing this? Are you a brute, or…"

"It is complicated." I responded, even as we neared the entrance to the Forge. I paused. "Madison, if you can truly fly, would you mind checking to see if we are followed?"

"Oh, sure!" Madison cawed, spreading her arms. As I watched, her form seemed to distort, becoming a black silhouette as it shrunk to a tiny form. Seconds later, a common raven flapped its wings, taking off to head into the air, circling above us.

Gregor looked at me. "Are we trusting her?"

I tapped my foot. "I think we can. She used to use her looks to get others to aid her." Considering the significantly non-standard appearance of our new acquaintance, I couldn't see that happening anymore. "If she chose that, and wants to aid us, perhaps we can use her help. She is a witch."

"A spellcaster." Gregor grunted. "If she is trustworthy, a good ally. If not…"

"She's very weak right now. We can contain her, but I do not believe she is lying."

"...no. Neither do I." Gregor allowed, even as the small black bird swooped back to us.

"We're clear! Don't want anyone to follow you back to your base?"

I nodded. "Of a sorts." I opened the gateway to the forge. "Come. We need to talk."

Madison was on her knees halfway through my explanation. "Taylor, I- why would you-" She looked up at me, eyes wide. "I mean…"

I sighed, going on my own knees in front of the tearful beastgirl. "You didn't deserve what Sophia nearly did to you, Madison. I couldn't just stand aside."

Madison sniffed, wiping her eyes. "You're so good, Taylor. Even after everything…" She looked at me. "Teach me, please!"

A little unnerved, I came back to my feet, hauling her to her talons and keeping her from kneeling again. "Teach you what, Madison?"

"How to be good. How to be a hero!" She waved at Gregor, who was watching calmly from nearby. "You're helping reform a…" She looked over at him. "I think you're Trainwreck?"

"I was. Not anymore." Gregor responded easily.

"Yeah!" Madison hopped in place. "I mean, he wasn't that bad, but still!"

"...you seem a lot less composed." I noted.

Madison shrugged. "I don't think I am. The old man in my dreams mentioned he was merging my soul with that of an infant's." She shook her head. "I mean, I'm not depressed anymore, which is nice, but I'm really moody, and the guilt feels a lot worse? So does the joy of seeing you, and… everything. Like it's all new."

I squinted at Madison, before sighing. "So. You want me to teach you, and lead you." I pulled up my screen, adding her to the party. "Welcome to the team, I suppose."

"You won't… what's this?" Madison started as a green box appeared before her. "What?"

"That's the other thing…" I sighed, even as Gregor chuckled. "Let me explain…"

Tale Swapper · Sep 5, 2022

A.N.: So, I've had a lot of people over the years tell me they really like my work. And I've always been telling stories; that's not going to change. What might change is how often and what types of stories I publish... depends on my patrons. Yeah, I have a Patreon now, with a couple chapters of my old work and side projects stowed away there. If some of my readers would help me out, it would let me write more, and have a little less anxiety. Also, anyone interested in voting to have me put out more chapters, or focus on one story over another, will have the option there. So yeah, please take a look.

With that said, many thanks to Nemo1685 for their proofreading. Let's get on with it!

"...and if you hurt her again, I will see to it that the PRT, the BBPD, and your parents know where you are at all times, if I can't convince Taylor to drag you back to them yourself." I frowned as I passed by the door to the locker rooms, just barely hearing Dad's voice through the thick door. "Understood?"

"I promise I won't do any of it, Mr. Hebert." I sighed softly as Madison's own voice wavered in the other room. "I… just wanted to apologize."

"I don't know if I can accept that yet." Dad's voice was stern, but his next line seemed a little softer. "Thank you for trying, at least. This is your second chance."

"Not going to waste it, sir." I edged away from the door, heading back into the complex and towards the recently converted 'living space'.

While Madison had been perfectly willing to set up a little 'nest' in the corner of our workshop, I'd been unwilling to allow her to live that way; Gregor was bad enough, but with two occupants and the possibility of staying over myself, I decided to bite the bullet and pay up for a major upgrade. One of the larger spaces off the main complex was converted into a spartan layout; four cramped bedrooms, a small kitchen, and a sitting area. The self-described 'Dorm Apartment' was only furnished with beds and dressers in each room, but it was still leagues ahead of Gregor's old inflatable mattress and camp stove.

With an area reasonably suitable for company and no threat of spawning monsters, I'd decided to invite Dad over to the Forge to meet my team, do some planning, and have a communal dinner. Madison, as it turned out, had a few cooking skills both from her class and from her old life, and had prepared a nice chicken and mushroom soup. Gregor had tried to prepare some sort of baked good, but abandoned his project halfway through to work on making a better oven, so I'd picked up some good bread from another of Douglas' contacts.

There was an Italian Bakery run by an old couple in the uptown region, past the docks. The first time visiting them, I'd fallen in love with their zeppoli. Allie had stopped me from adding the bakery to my morning run; likely a good thing, but I was now taking any excuse to head on over there.

Between Madison's soup, the bread I'd provided and the almond green beans Dad provided, we were looking at a pretty good meal. Just as soon as Dad finished threatening my new teammate.

I sighed as I walked into the new communal room, finding Gregor outside his suit. The case 53 was instead controlling an upright, skeletal 'frame' of metal he'd pulled together; sort of like an ad-hoc skeleton. "You know, Dad wouldn't mind you being au natural for this."

"The fact he shook my hand is proof, yes. But I wish to practice table manners." Gregor responded. "Soup is hard to eat without fingers, after all."

"Mugs are a thing."

"And my frame is a different thing." His shoulders rolled. "Your father is interrogating our new partner, yes?"

"He is, and he doesn't have to." I grumbled.

"He does. For his own peace of mind, not yours." I started as Gregor eyed me. "I think he feels lesser for not seeing the pain in the first place. He is trying to make up for it. And I cannot blame him."

"...ugh." I groaned, admitting the point. Madison wasn't going to do anything to me, I was certain. And, considering how broken she'd been the last two times she'd run into me in her old body, I didn't think she'd walk the path of the bully again. But she had hurt me, and by proxy Dad, pretty badly.

After a few minutes of contemplation, Gregor sighed. "They will be coming soon. Shall we lay out the meal?"

I nodded, moving to our new cabinets as footsteps sounded in the passageway behind us. This meal… might be a little awkward.

For once, I was glad to be wrong. Dad and Gregor, once they'd gotten to talking, had proven to get on pretty well, and Madison was content to stay on the sidelines until the talk turned to our skills. Gregor's choice for class had given Dad some pause, but he'd agreed that it made sense to go for flexibility over pure power. Madison's class, meanwhile, had turned out to be just as broad, something she was happy to talk about.

"...and I think my Hermitcraft skill is pretty basic on most things, but as I level it up it'll unlock other crafting skills." Madison chirped, dunking her bread into her soup bowl. "Which is good, because I wasn't able to find much in the way of stuff to make healing potions, you know?"

Dad nodded, sipping his own soup. "I suppose there aren't many fresh herbs or wild berries this time of year, and it's not like there's dried athelas or gallows-weed in the shops."

Madison blinked, even as Allie chuckled from her floating screen. "There's no Gallows-weed listed in the herb list, but apparently athelas is actually a thing. Lord of the Rings?"

"Can't beat the classics." Dad responded.

Gregor grunted. "We will need soil and glass to build greenhouses if such a thing be necessary." His mechanical hand lifted his spoon, even as he continued. "Live components… I am fortunate such a thing is not necessary."

Madison grumbled. "Most of the cool stuff I should be able to make needs either magical ingredients or an enchanting table. I'm glad I found you guys; I would've been really lost without actually being able to see the system."

Dad's face twisted slightly, before he took a deep breath and relaxed. "Well, I'm glad you're on my daughter's side, now." He said lightly, causing me to sigh slightly and Madison to flinch. "On that note, what's everyone bringing to the table for tonight's mission?"

I shrugged, tapping the shield charm around my neck. "I've been practicing my spells and have unlocked a few new shields, as well as practicing with old ones. I've also reforged the less quality pieces of my armor, and have equipped my new upgrades. Should be good to go."

Gregor nodded. "My armor is repaired and ready, and I have a saber and axe ready for the fights ahead. I haven't managed to make a better ranged weapon than my rifle, however."

Dad coughed. "Normally, I'd be nervous about a gun that shoots railway spikes, but considering what you might face, I'm not concerned. Please watch your friendly fire."

"Da, da."

Madison smiled, shaking off any nervousness. "I have a couple of knives, and my new bow. Not the best, but…"

I'd taken a quick trip out to a sporting goods store and picked up a bow; it had cost me over a hundred bucks, but seeing Madison go from fumbling with the bow to making it thrum as she put four arrows into a target in a minute told me it would be a worthy investment. Madison told me that the composite, plastic, and metal bow wouldn't hold up to serious enchantment, but it would do for a starting weapon.

Dad nodded. "So, you have a tank, a damage dealer, and a rogue. Considering you all are going looking for magic, that makes sense." He finished his soup, mopping the bowl with his crust. "And you're all well rested? Full up?"

We all nodded. Gregor and Madison had gotten up late; the demihuman had actually slept in until ten, half a week on the streets not being conducive to a good night's sleep. Myself, I needed less sleep, and I'd taken an hour's nap just before dinner. We were ready.

"Alright. Get kitted, I've got a truck from the yard. I'll handle the dishes while you all get your armor on."

Brockton Bay had existed, in one form or another, for over three hundred years. A coastal settlement, transitioning into a major port, and all along gathering and destroying buildings and history. There had been a thriving historical reenactors society during the thriving years of the city, and enough historic sites to make tourism possible even before Capes.

That meant that graveyards and abandoned churches were common on the ground. When I'd tracked down the source of my newest quest, I'd only been slightly surprised to find myself outside one of the ones still in semi-regular use. Oddly enough, the graveyard itself wasn't the source of the dungeon; that honor went to one of the structures inside.

Coming out of the back of the truck, I looked over at the church. "...Allie, did we ever see if churches had magical properties? Or something like that?"

"We did not." Allie responded, intrigued. "I'll add it to the list."

Gregor grunted as he planted his feet on the ground and stood, the truck lifting half a foot as he came upright. "We should head on in. If we are spotted, it could be bad." His armor was much sleeker now, jagged edges rounded out, turning the scrap-heap suit into an imitation of a knight's armor. His helm had been entirely rebuilt from the refurbished welding mask; a conical imitation of a slavic helmet capped his armor, with a bronze-brushed face mask replacing the industrial visor. Slung across his back alongside his rifle was a long-handled ax with a sizable blade, a half-circle of sharpened metal. A long saber was belted at the side of his armor, sized for the bulky hands of his armor.

My armor was mostly unchanged, but I had gone ahead and attached my new Relic to my gauntlets, causing the rough braces to be wrapped in dully gleaming chains. Along with the quest reward rings and amulets I had equipped, I felt prepared, even in my inexpertly upgraded armor.

Madison hopped out of the cab, giving my dad a small wave as she came to stand by us. Gregor and I hadn't had enough time to assemble a full suit of armor for her, not that she could have handled it regardless. Instead, I'd given her a leather buff coat and pants, and Gregor had given her a short sword and dagger he'd made for practice. Her bow was strung, slung over there back while her quiver hung at her right side. She peered into the cold night air. "...I'm nervous."

"Nothing wrong with that." Dad murmured, coming to stand by us. "Stay safe, please."

"Aye." "Got it, Dad." "Yessir." Despite being the only normal one between the four of us, none of us contradicted him.

"Thank you. I'm heading home; big day tomorrow. Taylor…"

"I'll see you in the morning, Dad." I gave him a nod before I slammed my helmet on. "Come, we have much to do before the sun breaks." I spoke, striding into the graveyard.

Madison gave a tiny moue of excitement as she fell in behind me, Gregor bringing up the rear. We crossed the lawn and entered the graveyard, knocking snow from weathered and fresh gravestones as we approached the mausoleum I'd marked previously. Walking up to the structure, I rattled the door. Locked… but-

Enter the Crypt of Bones?
Y/N

I tapped the Y key, and with a jolt, the world twisted around us. As the vertigo passed, I Found myself before a much larger structure, with the modern metal barred door replaced by one made of iron-bound, white wood.

Madison squeaked, and we all turned as she looked about. The whole graveyard had changed; it was now much larger, mist hanging between the rows of perfect tombstones, a massive full moon hanging in the cloudy sky. The demihuman gulped. "This… wow."

Gregor grunted. "The forge is much the same, really. This does not surprise me." He eyed the mist cautiously. "I wonder if there are enemies here, in the overworld…"

I shook my head, turning back to the door. "We may play with the ghosts another time. The vaults below hold our treasure; and we must make haste." I tapped the door, this one swinging open at my touch. As I strode on in, I found myself standing at the top of a flight of stairs, leading down into darkness.

Quest Dungeon: The Crypt of Bones
Partial Clear: Find the three keys, and defeat the Crypt Mother (1-3)
Full Clear: Defeat the Anima of Loss

"I do not know how deep we can make it in one night." I said to my allies. "I was able to clear the forge in one evening's effort, but this seems a more daunting venture."

Gregor nodded beneath his helm. "We should try to clear the first floor, at least. To get an idea of what we are dealing with." Beside him, Madison gave a small head nod, then twisted her fingers, summoning a globe of green light.

At the sight of the orb, I swapped shields. The Lantern Shield was… well, underwhelming. But it allowed me to cast an orb of light like Madison's own, and leave it hanging for up to an hour. Gregor, meanwhile, pulled something within his armor, small flaps on his shoulders lifting to reveal a row of red LED lights. Once lit, the four of us descended the stairs, weapons at the ready.

As we headed down, Madison sniffed. "...do you guys smell rot?"

At the bottom of the stairs, I halted. "No, but I see where it came from."

The first room was square in shape, the staircase descending to fill one side of the room. Three doors, unmarked arcs of stone, led into darkness. However, the four corners were all covered in hazy white spiderwebs; massive drifts of silken strands, three of them wrapped around corpse-sized mounds.

As I spoke, one of the mounds rustled, before bursting open, a chittering screech sounding. I casually deflected the attack with my shield, only to find myself driven back a step by the force of the lunge. Lowering my shield enough to peer over it, I observed the eight-legged creature.

(False) Ambushing Crypt Weaver
Level 9 Beast (Insect, Manifestation)
HP: 150
Attack: 85
Defense: 15
Stats:

Str: 25

End: 15

Agl: 30

Int: 6

Wis: 5

Luk: N/A

Status:
False: (This creature is a manifestation of the dungeon, not a living being. It cannot be tamed, captured, or negotiated with, and cannot persist outside of the dungeon.)
Ambusher: (This creature does double damage if it strikes first in combat or attacks from concealment.)
Envenomed: (On a successful bite attack, this creature applies Lesser Necrotic Toxin)
Brittle Carapace: (This creature's defense drops by 5 every time it takes a hit)

Crypt spiders are a predatory and territorial variant of the monstrous spiders, who parasitically live in conjunction with the undead. This variant is specialized for quick attacks on unwary targets, but suffers from a lack of defense to allow for its springing speed.

From behind me, Gregor's rifle coughed, a railway spike passing over my shoulder and slamming into the monster, which died in seconds to the well-placed shot. He grunted. "I expected-"

There was a quiet twang as Madison fired her bow, and I turned to see her put an arrow into a hastily stumbling figure, a pallid corpse with a massive jaw and bared teeth. I spun, driving my fist into it as it lunged at Madison. The impact caused the monster to stumble, whereupon the demi-human drew her dagger and sank it into its chest. With an unhealthy gurgle, the monster collapsed.

(False) Ghoul
Level 10 Undead (Manifestation)
HP: 200
Attack: 70
Defense: 35
Stats:

Str: 25

End: 20

Agl 25

Int: 7

Wis: 12

Luk: N/A

Status:
False: (This creature is a manifestation of the dungeon, not a living being. It cannot be tamed, captured, or negotiated with, and cannot persist outside of the dungeon.)
Undead: (This creature is Undead. It is immune to many status effects, cold damage, and toxins, but has no natural health regeneration and takes greatly increased damage from fire and holy sources.)

One of the Hungry undead, alike to vampires in the most minor ways. Animalistic and savage, these creatures often utilize their great stamina and speed to run down living prey.

"-undead." Gregor finished. "Hmm. Two types of enemies."

"Maybe more. I suspect this tomb will not yield as easily as the last." I murmured. "Multiple routes. Let us collect our spoils, then move on."

Madison jerked as the corpse of the ghoul collapsed, just like the body of the spider. "Huh… ghoul teeth, necrotic bone, and… Hunger Essence?" She held up the mote of dark green light. "Weird."

Gregor scooped up the remnants of the other defeated enemy. "Spider chitin, Life Essence, and silk." He looked around, and I followed his gaze to the massive quantities of spider silk carpeting the walls. "Do we have a use for that?"

I eyed the webbing, then grinned as the crafting stats popped up. "Indeed we do. This is fine material; I will harvest what we can."

I heard a quiet squelch, then a gag as Madison cut open one of the sealed cocoons, a random assortment of bones tumbling out. After a brief second, she gulped, eyeing the scattered detritus. "...I don't think this was a person. There's a skull and a lot of leg bones, but no spine… or hips."

"Set dressing, then." Gregor mumbled, as I cast Salvage on the cocoon. "The monsters here seem easy enough to deal with, so we should not join them."

"Pray do not tempt the gods." I mumbled, inwardly grumbling at the phrasing dictated by my helmet as I exwardly grumbled at Gregor's tempting fate.

Madison nodded even as she slit open the final unopened sac, only to start as a mess of white orbs spilled out. "Um… do we have any use for spider eggs?"

I turned, glancing at the baseball sized orbs.

Giant Spider Egg (Generated)
Reagent, Ingredient, Spawn
May be hatched into a Giant Spider, variant depending on environment
An egg planted by a Giant Spider. Due to being created by a dungeon, this egg will not hatch unless properly incubated, and has a greatly extended shelf life.

I walked over, hefting the eggs into my inventory. "While I have no use for these beasts, we may as well keep the eggs. At worst, they could be used in potions."

Madison nodded. "...I do have some ideas…" She murmured. "Not sure when we'd need an instant glue flask, though."

"Collect what you can, and then we should move on." Gregor stressed. "We have a lot of ground to cover."

I nodded, standing. "Let us take the right corridor, and then weave back around. We should check every nook and cranny; our goal is hidden somewhere in the upper floors."

My party fell in behind me as I headed towards the door. Spiders and the undead; a cliche challenge, but one we were ready for. I hoped…

Tale Swapper · Oct 7, 2022

The first floor of the Crypt was a slog.

Firstly, there were more than just the 'ambushing' Crypt Weavers. Armored, Venomous, and Web-Spitting variants also existed, and there were rooms in which entire clutters of the beasts swarmed out of the stonework, attempting to drag us down and tear us apart.

The web-covered portions of the dungeon's floor often deviated into dirt caverns, but the stonework sections had their own horrors. The ghouls were joined by skeletons, zombies, and floating will-o-wisps, trying to bear us down under undead might and savagery.

This led to a lot of extended fights.

"Another wave!" Gregor roared, axe chopping into a pouncing spider. "We're flanked!"

The wide chamber we'd blundered into had seemed clear at first but we'd known better than to take it at face value; we'd hugged the edges of the room, being careful to probe every egg sac and clear away thick weaves of silk to check for sarcophagi beneath. Naturally, the first one we found had contained an ornery ghoul and dispatching it had prompted the other seven caskets and eight web sacs to burst open at once, flooding the chamber with an ambush. Unfortunately, that left several burrows and four entryways open for more attackers; and though we'd been able to handle the first ambush, the new wave seemed daunting.

I cursed, swinging my shield to knock aside one staggering zombie even as Madison's bow spat an arrow into a nearby spider. "Madison, do you know of any spells which could clear this?"

"No! I've only got a few direct spells, and enhancements!" She squawked. "Nothing for this!" She leapt backward as two ghouls slipped past me, slipping her bow over her shoulder and drawing both her knives, and I was forced to fall back to cover her as she wrestled with the undead.

Gregor grunted as a spear-wielding skeleton jabbed into his upper arm, and he was forced to smash it apart with his bare hands. "I have something! Taylor, cover Madison!"

I drove my fist through a zombie's skull even as Madison finished wrestling with the second ghoul, dagger coated in shearing winds as she pierced and cored its brain. Diving back, I put myself in front of Madison, interposing my shield before my ally and triggering one of my new spells, unlocked at level 13.

Protect (40 MP)(Level 1-68.5% to next Level)
Create a barrier centered on the caster extending up to (5+1 per level) feet away from the center. The barrier absorbs damage up to (100+10*Level) HP. You cannot move while Protect is active.

Bonuses:
Level 5: Protect's barrier now shares your armor level.
Level 7: You can now move at half your normal foot speed while maintaining Protect
Level 12: Protect can now be refreshed though magical investment.
Level 18: Gain spell 'Mage Armor'
Level 20: No movement restrictions while Protect is active.

As Protect snapped up, Gregor bashed his armor, yanking a small gray canister from the compartment which snapped open in response. "Fire in the hole!"

The grenade tumbled into the midst of the swarming spiders before detonating in a hail of razor-sharp shards, several spiders outright shredded by the blast in a single instant. Others were quickly crippled, and one unfortunate ghoul lost a leg to the shrapnel. I grimaced as my protect barrier failed as subsonic flak burst it, a few errant shards pining off my armor and shield. Gregor had spun to face the hefty rear armor against the blast and as it cleared he turned back and resumed chopping at the skeletons that continued to advance.

"Was– was that a bomb? Where did he even get that?" Madison yelled before I could wrap my hand around her arm. A quick blast of healing, and her ears popped, before I turned and slammed my shield into one of the wounded enemies.

"I took apart and rebuilt several of the grenades we found, and those we claimed from those mercenaries!" Gregor explained as he swung his axe into a zombie skull, splitting it with a wet crunch. "I only have one more ready, though."

I nodded once. "It is indeed." I spun, looking around the room and finding it empty at last. I came out of my combat stance, only to freeze as a bright flash of light flared in the corner of my vision. "What–"

"Hey, a chest!" Madison chirped, practically skipping as she sheathed her blades and slung her bow over her chest. She landed in front of the chest and opened it, peering inside. "...Taylor, does your power make real gold?"

Jogging up next to her, I peered into the chest. Unlike a stereotypical chest in a game or tv show, the coffer wasn't filled to the brim with gold coins. Instead, a small sack, top open to reveal a glimmering light within sat nestled among faded silks and a few odd pouches. "The Power of the Holy Shield can create real wealth, or objects worth true value. The gold is likely legitimate."

Madison nodded, before sniffing and grabbing one of the bags. "...oh my gosh!" She opened the apple-sized bag, revealing a mess of small black specks. "Vitae Flower seeds! Oh, I can do so much with a few of these sprouted!"

"Vitae flowers?" I asked, even as I scooped up the gold and dropped it in my inventory.

"Well, that's the name that's popping up in my head. They're a type of magically receptive plant, whose self-healing properties can be used to make regeneration potions." She frowned. "Going to need a place to grow these… too cold outside."

"We can work on that when we do the next round of improvements to the Demesne," I allowed. "What is the rest of this?" I began to scan bags; some more seeds, a few bags of other potion ingredients, and two bags of what the system called Diamond Dust. All of it was nestled into a mess of faded silk and cotton cloth. I scooped all the items into my inventory, salvaged the cloth, and after a few seconds of consideration, picked up the chest and dropped it in too. No sense in leaving an iconic metal-bound adventuring mainstay behind.

Standing, I checked the minimap. "...hmm. We seem to have cleared this wing… and there's only a couple of rooms left on the main thoroughfare. The descent to the next level is likely nearby."

Gregor nodded, even as he continued to keep watch. "The time is coming on two. We will be wrapping up soon?"

"We will." I confirmed. "Let us clear the floor, and then we can retire for the night. I believe our main goal will be on the floor below, but there's no reason to press onward with lowered reserves."

Madison and Gregor both nodded; I was really the only 'fresh' member of the group. Despite leveling several times and getting both better magical regeneration and new spells, Madison was flagging; she'd run through more than half her quiver of arrows, shafts snapping or splintering off enemies, and her magic reserves had burned lower and lower. Gregor's armor had taken a significant beating; it could handle the impact of all but the strongest without issue, but accumulating dents had slowly exposed more and more of the critical joints and machinery inside his suit. He'd also slowly run through his stock of railroad spikes.

I was feeling a little tired, but I wasn't going to press on without them; as a team, I could act to disrupt enemy groups, while Madison sniped and Gregor took down one undead at a time with his axe. Alone, I'd be forced to commit to engagements at melee, and risk getting surrounded.

We rallied up and headed down the one passage from this chamber we knew headed deeper into the dungeon: me in the lead, Gregor at the rear, and Madison in the middle. We kept our heads on swivels as we advanced; multiple ambushes had bogged our early steps, but this last push seemed clear.

The next room we entered was another hewn-stone chamber, one with few blemishes or marring cracks. My eyes were first drawn to the marge fresco which adorned the single untouched wall; four interlocking bones, hooked together to form a stylized M in brilliant white.

"The Marche." I murmured. "A place of bone, dedicated to the one who manipulated it… I am not certain why I did not see it sooner."

Madison swallowed. "So, if this place was dedicated to the Marche… why are they here?" She pointed with one crooked, taloned finger, and I turned to see the three figures shaking off their chains beside a heavy, barred door.

The first was a tall figure in simple, hefty armor, daubed with red and black paint. The twisted undead looked forward, sunken eyes in withered flesh glowing a sickly, pale white. The creature reached down, lifting a hefty fire axe in its hands as it began to walk towards us. I hit it with an Observe.

Draugr Warrior (Bound)
Level 15 Undead
HP: 400 (250 + 150 Armor)
Attack: 80
Defense: 50
Stats:

Str: 30

End: 25

Agl 17

Int: 10

Wis: 10

Luk: N/A

Status:
Bound: (This creature has been forced into full existence by the dungeon. It cannot be captured or tamed and cannot persist outside of the dungeon. Its destruction will have an effect on the outside world.)
Undead: (This creature is Undead. It is immune to many status effects, cold damage, and toxins, but has no natural health regeneration and takes greatly increased damage from fire and holy sources.)

The angry body and soul of a self-styled warrior. Lied to by the false All-Father and his get, he has been denied both Valhalla and Heaven for his actions and is animated by the hatred and rage he felt in his life.

I swallowed as the reanimated Empire gangster advanced, before my eye swerve drawn to a blur of motion. Beside me, Gregor cursed as a bladed ghoul barrelled into him, and as he delivered a wicked backhand I focused on this second foe. The monster was still humanoid, but the various bony spikes and misplaced teeth ripping out of its pallid flesh made it impossible to tell if it had been male or female, much less discern any features beyond spitting hunger and aggression.

Butcher's Ghoul (Bound)
Level 15 Undead
HP: 250
Attack: 100
Defense: 40
Stats:

Str: 40

End: 25

Agl 30

Int: 4

Wis: 6

Luk: N/A

Status:
Bound: (This creature has been forced into full existence by the dungeon. It cannot be captured or tamed and cannot persist outside of the dungeon. Its destruction will have an effect on the outside world.)
Undead: (This creature is Undead. It is immune to many status effects, cold damage, and toxins, but has no natural health regeneration and takes greatly increased damage from fire and holy sources.)

A savage in life, this being has had its appetites for death, murder, and battled magnified to true hunger. The bones which once adorned it have become fused with their flesh, even as the hunger for blood has become much more literal.

Beside me, Madison whimpered, her bow snapping to send a shaft towards the third advancing figure. The wispy silhouette of a man flowed forward, the wooden shaft of her arrow passing right through it as it drifted forward, silver sword the only physical object on its frame. Beneath the white drapery, the ghost wore green, silver and white trappings twisting into a mockery of lacquered armor.

Lost Yurei (Bound)
Level 15 Undead
HP: 100
Attack: 75
Defense: 30
Stats:

Str: 20

End: 10

Agl 40

Int: 15

Wis: 12

Luk: N/A

Status:
Bound: (This creature has been forced into full existence by the dungeon. It cannot be captured or tamed and cannot persist outside of the dungeon. Its destruction will have an effect on the outside world.)
Ephemeral: (This creature is not physical and exists as an imprint on the world. It cannot be touched by physical attacks, and takes half damage from natural elemental damage, but takes triple damage from extraplanar attacks and purifying magics.)

The ghost of a man who tried to build and fight for a new life after his old homeland was destroyed. Struck down by his enemies, he rises with purpose, but cannot remember who he was, or whom he has to fight.

I raised one hand, swapping shields to allow a bolt of brilliant lighting to blast forth, causing the vengeful ghost to fall back screaming. "They're all enemies of the Marche, who fell in combat. This place may be a tomb of all those who have suffered or fell before Marquis' forces."

Gregor grunted as the E88 draugr attempted to take his head off, countering his clumsy ax swipe with the shaft of his own weapon, before pivoting and delivering a devastating chop. "This dungeon seems to have taken the theme a little far, then!"

I scowled as I blocked the incoming strike from the ghoul, before spinning to block the incoming blade of the ghost on my shield. "Madison, the ghost is somewhat vulnerable to magic! Use your spells!"

"Got it! Wind arrows, fly!" Madison's bow snapped, sending a piercing shot of wind wrapped around her arrow and through the ghost, causing it to waver before a second lightning bolt destroyed it. I whirled back, running forward only to see Gregor stagger as the ghoul tore into him, its powerful frame and claws yanking a chunk of armor off his chest as it began to rip into him. I screamed, triggering Shield Rush to close the distance and send the monster sprawling, interposing the Holy Shield to take a hit from the roaring draugr as it tried to follow up from its ally's attack.

Gregor righted himself, even as the recovering ghoul was pinned to the ground, a pair of quick-fired arrows punching through its flesh to drive it into the wall, screaming as Madison reached for her quiver and flinched as she found it empty. "These things need to die quickly!" He roared, pulling out his rifle. On my mark, Taylor, duck!"

I nodded, shield driving back and forth to intercept the now-frenzied blows coming from the undead fascist. "I hear you! Fire when ready!"

There were several long moments where I stood between my partners and the whirling hail of ax blows, before Gregor screamed once. "Now!" I threw myself down, just before a green-lit railroad spike drove into the druagr's armor, shredding right through it and coring out its heart in a single, well-placed shot. As it teetered, I sprung up, my fist catching fire as I swapped shields and drove it through its withered skull. Behind me, I heard a meaty thunk.

I swiveled to find Madison still wrestling with the ghoul, her knife buried deep into one of its thighs even as her outstretched arms held its claws from driving towards her torso. Before I could close the distance, Gregor reached over and grabbed the monster on one of its bone spurs, ripping it and the arm it was attached to free from its shoulder as his armor whined in protest. Thrown off balance, the screaming ghoul was pitched to the floor, Madison yanking her second knife free from her holster and ramming it through its skull as its single good arm and leg scrambled to lift it from its prone position. With a gurgle, the last foe in the chamber fell silent.

As each monster began to dissolve into dust and bones, Madison dropped on her rear, knife clattering to the stone beneath her. "...that was nerve wracking…"

Gregor huffed as he walked over to the pried-off armor plate, looking it over with a critical eye. "We were not fresh enough to handle all three of those opponents."

Madison nodded, even as I moved over to help her back to her feet. As she came upright, a pair of quiet clunks could be heard throughout the room. Turning, I watched as the barred door which had sat at one side of the wall cracked open, a latch sliding unlocked as I watched. In the same instant, a stone slab beneath the Marche symbol popped open, revealing a cubby within.

Walking over to the hidden stash, I looked inside and withdrew the package within. Cracking open the zippered pouch, I took a look at the contents. "...Madison, do you have any uses for raw opium? Otherwise, I'm going to destroy this."

Madison whisked over, peering at the brown, tar-like substance in the package before her. "I have several uses for it, though I'd have to have a higher alchemy skill to refine it into something really useful," she said, her eyes glowing slightly. "I mean, knockout drugs, hallucinogens, sedatives… there's a lot of potential here. And stuff like this makes a good base for a lot of other potions, too." She looked at the rest of the package, her eyes bugging out. "Um, is that money?"

"It is." I replied drolly, lifting the four bundles of twenty dollar bills from their place. "2000 dollars. We can split that once we leave, along with the value of that gold from earlier." I paused. "We probably should have talked about that before we claimed our spoils

Gregor grunted from behind me. "Money was not my goal in working with you, but without your power, we would see nothing." He tapped one armored finger on his suit's shoulder. "...half should go in the pot, for common use. The remainder, split evenly? Or half that to you, and then the rest split evenly."

I shook my head. "The first, not the second."

Madison cleared her throat. "Um, my portion can go in the pot–"

"No." Gregor and I spoke as one. I eyed him, and he spoke first. "Devalues you to leave you out of this. Your guilt is not unreasonable, but self-respect is important."

"Also, you did risk your life tonight. It would not be fair to cast your share aside, your past notwithstanding." I added, meaning every word. Madison had been a bitch, but I wasn't going to cheat her out of her fair share.

"...okay." She said softly, then peered at my helmet slit. "...erm, when you guys get unarmored… could I give you both a hug?"

Gregor shifted nervously, and it was only my stiffened spine that I didn't mirror his own actions. "...I will think about it." I managed to push out.

Madison nodded, an odd look crossing her face. "Okay, so… are we going to keep going?" She wiggled her quiver, the two arrows she'd managed to retrieve rattling within. "I'm tapped out, nearly."

Gregor grunted, raising his fist. A slight golden glow formed on it, and with a bang he slammed it into the loose armor plate on his chest. With a rough hiss, the plate inched back into position, broken connections reforming. "My mend spell is only a patch job. I am thinking we clear the next room, then return later for the floor beneath."

I nodded, even as I turned towards the ajar door. "Let's see what's within, then…" I advanced, swinging the door open… To reveal a mostly empty room.

Gregor and Madison trotted in behind me as we came into the next chamber. The room only had a few noteworthy features. The first was the symbol of the Marche, once again emblazoned on the walls. The second was a wide, dusty stone staircase leading downward, iron handrails leading into the dark below. The third was another chest; this time a wooden chest, with 'US Navy' faded into the weathered wood.

"...um. I guess that's it for the floor?" Madison mumbled. "Kinda anti-climactic…"

"Those last opponents were the guardians of this floor, I suppose." I paused. "A moment. Allie, why were those enemies 'bound' instead of 'false'?"

Allie spoke, all of the party tilting our heads as she explained. "Okay, so… most of the enemies you fight, they're created from whole cloth. But there are things out there, even in our world without magic, which can react with magic. I think. This is really deep lore, base-code of the universe type stuff, and I can only see the barest ways it interacts with your system."

Gregor gave a tiny ah of understanding. "So… these things were the shadows of those who really did live and die?" He eyed the already dissolving corpses through the open door, and I made a quick note to loot those before we left. "I do not think they were ghosts."

"Yeah, no soul. But the grudges they carried, kind of stuck around?" Allie explained, confusion evident in her voice. "It might be one of the reasons Brockton Bay's so shitty; old grudges seeping into the fabric of reality."

"And killing them, then, would expunge a measure of the taint." I surmised. "A worthy endeavor."

"You'd have to kill an awful lot to make much of a difference." Allie warned me. "Like, thousands. And unless you actually fixed the problems which caused that pain to build up in the first place, it'd come back."

"Small steps, right?" Madison butted in. "We're already clearing this place out. Might as well make a clean sweep of it."

"Not saying you shouldn't." Allie replied.

I nodded, before rapping my shield. "All of this is good to know. Let us clean out the chest, and prepare to depart." I walked over, undoing both latches and hauling open the vintage ammo crate. "...hmm." Of the four items within, three seemed tailored for each party member. I eyed the quiver sitting at the bottom. "Madison, this is for you, I think."

Peeking over my shoulder, Madison reached past me and lifted the dark purple hip quiver, giving it a once over. "...arrow return? Useful, I guess." She slung it over her shoulder. "A good upgrade, though I'd like a bow to go with it."

Gregor reached in beside me, coming up with a stack of metal plates. "Hmm. Dwarven iron?" He cocked his head. "I could make something of this, yes."

My prize, meanwhile, was a small booklet, which disintegrated at my touch. With a start, I found a schematic for a gauntlet upgrade unfold in my mind. "Minor rewards, for the first leg of this challenge." I observed, even as I lifted the leather pouch from the bottom of the chest, opening it to reveal a trio of restoratives. "We shall have to go deeper another night."

Both my partners nodded, and I stood, pocketing the chest along with its contents. Gregor headed back over to the door, bringing his ax back to hand, but I stopped him before he could make it to the far door. "There may yet be ambushers on our way back. In formation, I think."

As we fell back in, I couldn't help but yawn a little behind my facemask. Truth be told, I was pretty damn tired myself. A good night's sleep, and we should be able to handle the next floor tomorrow; and hopefully, locate the laboratory we'd came here to plunder.

Of course, the new enemies at the very end were probably going to show up more often. We'd have to be prepared. As we began to head towards the exit, I began to plan my gear upgrades, and what techniques I would need to practice for the next push. We could do this; but getting overconfident was the worst thing that could happen to us. I wouldn't make that mistake.

Newter groaned as the van hit a bump, his tail jamming into his ass as it coiled beneath him. "Evelyn, couldn't we take a different road? Or at least, could you please not hit every damn pothole on the way in?" He cursed, looking up at the black-clad driver up front.

Evelyn Shapely, better known by her nomme de guerre Faultine, growled from the front seat. "You know we need to stay off the main roads, so quit complaining. There aren't many ways across the border that avoid a checkpoint."

Gregor the Snail sighed from his own seat, his large arm wrapped around the dozing form of the crew's smallest and youngest member. "Newter, we are fortunate that we didn't end up getting caught. Best not to tempt fate."

Newter grunted, sliding back in his seat. "...coming in from the ass-end of Maine. We're going to be a week late getting back to the bay, you know?" He looked out the window, waving off Gregor's attempts to speak again. "I get it, I get it. We'll get there when we get there, and all that." He sighed. "Can we at least stop sometime soon? If I could recharge my Gameboy, it'd at least give me something to do."

Faultine looked in the mirror, eyes crinkling. "There's a campground up ahead, just across the river and the border. They don't ask many questions, so long as we don't bring trouble. We can sleep and recharge there, and if we get up early, make the Bay tomorrow afternoon."

Newter nodded, then looked up at her. "You know, if you let me drive–"

"If you had full control of your abilities, and you knew how to drive, I would let you." Faultine replied. "However, I don't want you driving, only to leave me hallucinating next time I took the wheel."

Newter grumbled slightly, conceding the point. "Fine, mom."

Gregor chuckled. "Is that how you speak to your mother, young man?" He opened his mouth to say more, only to stop to rock his seat-mate as Labyrinth began to toss in her sleep. "Ah, my mistake."

Seeing his fellow Monster Cape busy with their smallest charge, Newter took a look out the back windows, watching as the tail-light lit trees and road fade into darkness as they cruised for the border. Soon enough, they'd be home free and free at home. He sighed, eyes drooping. Damn but I'm glad the job's over. It'll be good to be home.

First off, I'd like to thank SeerKing and nemo1685 for proofreading and editing this chapter. I really appreciate their efforts!

Second, I'd like to thank my Patreons, who were the ones to select this story to be the next one to get a push, and in particular Daniel Einspanjer, who made this one a bit longer than usual with his choice for the month! If you want to join their ranks or see some of my Patreon-exclusive content, find my Patreon page here.

The Rising of the Shield Heroine

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