Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Epilogue

ARCANE ARTIFICER 3

Book 3 in the ‘Dren’s Den’ Series

A Crafting LitRPG Fantasy

by Andrew Karevik

Arcane Artificer (Book 3)

Copyright © 2025 LitRPG Freaks

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the author.

Chapter 1

The dinner party ended in a way that Dren could never forget. Everyone was present and eating merrily, and then in an instant, the merriment was over. It had been his first big formal dinner at Arthur Twisp’s manor. He had been to the mansion many times over, often to discuss business plans and to test on the new mining suits they were developing, but never had he been officially part of a big affair. That had changed at the start of the New Year, the same year that they were expected to release Undersuit to the general public.

The dinner was composed of Arthur’s biggest mining rivals: Felling Mining Company, Bigner and Sons, Lady Limericks and so on. With Dren’s hard work as a personal Artificer for Twisp’s mining corporation, they had started to realize there was no way to fight against the competition. One by one, each company that had once fiercely opposed the famed Arthur Twisp fell in line and agreed to cease their fighting against him. A monopoly was on the table, one where every metal mining company in the forest would come to join together.

Dren had been brought to the reception as a guest and nothing more. Twisp was the man who ran all the business talks and with ease. The man was high spirited, eager and always cheerful, never demurring despite the difficulties ahead of getting every mining corporation in the Verdant Forest to cooperate. And things had been going well. Until…well, until dessert.

Dren had been distracted with the peach pudding in front of him as Twisp stood to give a speech about something or other. The company representatives all raised their glasses to toast to him but the speech was interrupted by a warping sound.

A man, adorned in a black cloak and with a hood over his face, appeared on the table, teleporting through magical means. The guards were too slow to even try to respond to the presence. Arthur Twisp, standing tall at the dinner table, didn’t even have a chance to react. His eyes went wide as the stranger lowered a hand crossbow at chest level and fired straight into the great miner and explorer.

Someone screamed. Blood sprayed everywhere. And the stranger was gone in the blink of an eye, teleporting out again.

Everything after that was a blur for Dren. He remembered watching as a few people rushed up to help Arthur, trying to plug the wound with their hands, but it was far too late. The bolt had struck him in the heart, killing him instantly. Fingers pointed at one another and the various corporate heads all began to accuse each other of dispatching an assassin and violating the truce that had been made weeks ago.

This was the start of the New Year for Dren. The loss of his biggest benefactor and one of his fast growing friends in a single instant. For all of the artifice he possessed, for all of the devices he created, there was nothing that would have been able to save Twisp’s life that night. An assassin had finally gotten to him.

The manor fell into chaos almost immediately. The servants had been quite devoted to Arthur Twisp but with him dead, they found no more loyalty in their hearts. They looted and raided the place, taking as much precious items as they could before hightailing it out of Arthursberg. The city guard arrived as quickly as they could and shut down the entire building, arresting everyone—Dren included.

Despite his protests, Dren could not talk his way out of being incarcerated. The guards had decided that someone was responsible for the direct dispatch of the assassin and since the corporations present all had a reason to kill Arthur, the representatives were arrested for interrogation. Dren was simply part of the numbers.

For three days, Dren sat in a prison cell, wondering what in the hell was going to happen to Arthur’s empire. Twisp was an eccentric man, but a genius and a forward thinker. He and Dren had worked together to revolutionize the drilling of the West End Mines, using his Mining Mole to improve the ability to access both copper and iron inside of the mountain. They were working together on the Undersuit, a powerful suit capable of allowing miners to move safely in dangerous conditions, ignoring both heat and even cave-ins should they happen.

There was a numbness in Dren’s heart as he pondered the future. Twisp had been a friend. And yes, assassins came after him all the time, but this seemed different. Each time there had been an attempt on his life, the killers would boldly declare the name of the people sending their regards. Always a mining company. Always a corporation with something to gain should Twisp hit the dirt early. But with the recent truce to create a monopoly between all the mining companies in the Verdant Forest…who would have dared to try and break something so powerful?

Finally, the door to his cell opened up and two men wearing black suits appeared. “Dren,” the first one said. He was a tall fellow with blonde hair and a very stern look on his face. “You’re up for questioning.”

“Took you guys long enough,” Dren said, standing and hobbling out of the room. The guards had taken all of his artifice gear, including the metal brace that he used to keep his busted leg straight and the Scuttleboots that allowed him to move without pain.

The other guard, a black-haired fellow, slightly shorter than his companion, socked Dren in the stomach hard.

“Oof,” Dren gasped, barreling over and clutching his guts.

“We take as long as we need to, half-face,” the black-haired man said. These two did not seem like Arthursberg types. They weren’t country folk but had hardened features of people from the city. Their clothes seemed to match this assumption.

The pair dragged Dren into a small room with a table and a gaslight hanging above. The illumination was dim and he felt hazy from the punch. They tossed him into a chair. One sat on the corner of the table and the other sat across from him.

“I’m Agent Lou and this is Agent Slesher,” Lou said, rapping his knuckles on the table. “And we’re with the Drift City Investigation Team.”

“Drift City…” Dren said. “What are you doing all the way out here?”

“We’re asking the questions, freak,” Slesher said, slapping Dren across the face. The blow stung for a moment and Dren drew in a sharp breath.

“I’m not sure what I have done to earn this kind of treatment,” Dren said. “I just witnessed the murder of my friend and benefactor a few days ago…why are you doing this?”

“In short, cause you’re easily the biggest suspect on the list,” Lou said with a shrug. “See, all of those moguls in the dinner can be accounted for quite easily. Folks who had no reason to kill Arthur Twisp due to his recent dealings with them, but you? Why, you stand to gain a lot if the man kicked it.”

Dren raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about? You surely can’t think that I would have tried to have my friend killed.”

Slesher slapped a metal rod on the table in front of Dren. “Then explain this. They found it lodged in Arthur’s chest. And from all reports, it seems you’re the kind of guy who builds these things.”

Dren glanced at the metal rod. It was not a crossbow bolt as he had assumed. Rather it was a long tube that had been carefully cut and etched with the fine tuning of artifice. The design was unmistakable. This was not simply meant to pierce the heart; it delivered a high level of impact that annihilated the organ and pretty much everything else inside of a person. The telltale shimmer of magical energies was all around it.

“Wait, hold on,” Dren said as he examined the weapon. “This is…”

“Artifice,” the detective said. “Hence why we are here. We were tipped off a few weeks back that someone was looking to do Arthur Twisp in. Drift City’s not close to your little backwards town, so they deployed us to get here as soon as possible. Too little, too late. By the time we get here, the man’s dead.”

A tip off? Dren felt an intense dread well up in his stomach. Who would have known that artifice was going to be used to kill Arthur Twisp?

“So, you got anything to say for yourself?” Slesher asked, with such disdain he almost spat the words. “Any reason we shouldn’t lock you up for orchestrating the death of your business partner?”

Dren scowled. “Why would I ever want Twisp dead? I cared about the man, and if you don’t think that’s important enough, he was also bankrolling my workshop. Dren, Twisp and Associates has been running smoothly for over a year thanks to his help. With his copper and connections, we’ve been able to get our operation to become quite profitable. Why would I jeopardize all of this?”

Lou shook his head and chuckled. “Friends, pff. You know how many friends kill each other?”

“Plenty,” Slesher replied.

“Lots of pals want each other dead at the end of the day,” Lou said.

“And it takes very little to murder them, especially if you hire an assassin, right?” Slesher continued.

“So you’re saying that not only did I hire an assassin, I also constructed the weapon to kill the man, then waited until a dinner party to do it?” Dren asked, having to restrain himself not to bang his head on the table. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“You’re the only person out here with artifice,” Lou said, tapping on the metal rod. “You think this is going to look good to the people when word gets out?”

“What do you want from me?” Dren asked. “I didn’t do it, I had nothing to do with it and it seems that you have pretty much made up your minds.”

Slesher’s lips turned up into a grin. “You could confess. Make this go down a lot easier.”

“A confession means we just haul you straight to prison in Drift City,” the other detective said. “No risk of execution.”

“I’m not confessing because I didn’t do anything…” Dren said, closing his eyes. How was he going to get out of this? It wasn’t like there was any legal system that allowed him to just assert his innocence.

There was a banging on the door at that exact moment. Both of the agents looked at each other for a moment. The banging continued. “Open up in there!” Salla’s voice thundered. Dren looked at the door in surprise. His bard girlfriend had found him?

Lou stood and opened up the door to reveal a short woman wearing a red cloak. She held a writ in her hands. “By order of the town council, I demand that you release Dren immediately!” she said.

The man grabbed the writ from her hand and opened it up. “The hell is this?”

“A signed statement by the town that they do not agree with your decision to lock up the entire group of people at the dinner party to interrogate one by one,” Salla said. “You have no jurisdiction in this town and Dren is innocent.”

The two men laughed at this and looked at each other. “You hear this girl?” Lou asked. “Talking about jurisdiction. Lady, you do know that Drift City is ten times the size of this little hole in the wall? We have hundreds of agents and you have what, two town guards?”

“Size or not, you aren’t in Drift City,” Salla said. “Let my man go, now.”

Chapter 2

Dren and Salla sat outside of his growing tower, the Den as it was known. The sky was heavy with rain clouds and the wind was picking up considerably.

“Thanks for getting me out of there,” Dren said, shifting on the log that he was sitting on. Above they could hear the sounds of the Mechanical Turks working away in the factory, building more Mining Moles.

“No problem, Dren,” Salla said, gently nuzzling against his head. “How are you holding up?”

“I feel quite numb, if I’m to be honest,” Dren replied. “Arthur Twisp was one hell of a good man…and just like that, he’s gone.”

“It’s quite the shock, to lose him so suddenly,” Salla agreed. The bard sighed softly and rubbed Dren’s back. “But what can we do about it?”

“What indeed?” a smoky voice asked from across the way. Both of them looked up to see a tall woman wearing a red trench coat with thick black buttons approach. She had a parasol out, though the rain hadn’t started just yet. In her right hand was a long cigarette holder with a perpetually burning cigarette at the end.

“The store isn’t opened yet,” Dren said. “We’ve had some delays.”

“Oh, I’m not here to shop,” the brown-haired woman said. She was a little older than middle-aged, though not quite greying just yet. She sauntered towards the pair and put the cigarette holder to her lips, drawing in slowly before letting out a few bursts of smoke. “I’m here to talk to the metal man about justice.”

“And who might you be?” Dren asked.

“My name is Sandra Twisp,” the woman said, standing in front of them. “Arthur Twisp’s wife. Well, ex-wife.”

Dren knew that Twisp had been married a few times here and there but the man never really spoke about his exes before. At least not in any substantive way. He often did joke about his ex-wives caring about his empire more than he did, but Dren always chalked that up to cornball humor.

Salla hopped from the log and bowed to the woman. “My dear Miss Sandra! I’m so sorry for your loss. Arthur was a friend of ours.”

“More than a friend,” the older woman said. “A pillar of your little community. A leader in times of trouble and an industrialist. I know all about your operation, Dren. Without my husband, you were little more than an artificer struggling to make a name for himself.”

Dren nodded. “It is true. The man came through for me in many ways.”

Sandra drew out a small case from her purse; it was a metal container with two hinges on the sides of it. She unceremoniously clicked it open, revealing the murder weapon that Dren had been shown before.

“The detectives from Drift City secured this for a while, but a few thousand gold bucks managed to pry it loose from their fingers,” Sandra said, showing Dren the contents. “I do not trust the state to be able to do justice for my lost Arthur. But you? You are someone that I think I can trust. Arthur always spoke fondly of you in his letters. Said that you were a real go-getter and that you would be the future of your village.”

Dren examined the rod. It was a bluish grey bar with two prongs at the end, the points sharp enough to prick holes in the chest of a target. The magical runes and etchings on the sides of it pointed towards economic mystic design, artifice that was light and easy enough to make for a near weightless assassination tool. All that the weapon needed was to make skin contact and that would be enough.

This was the second time Dren was seeing the weapon up close and he sighed heavily. “Arthur didn’t have a chance against this.”

“The detectives are convinced that you’re the one who is behind the man’s death. They claim that since you are an artificer,” Sandra said, “that you were the one who designated the attack.”

“That’s absurd,” Salla said. “My Dren isn’t a killer. He goes out of his way to preserve life. You can just ask the goblins and werewolf who live here!”

“I share your sentiment, dear bard,” Sandra replied. “But these men are from the city. They don’t much care for your way of life nor do they want a long, drawn out case. They are far more interested in returning back home with a suspect having confessed.”

Dren said nothing but took the case from the woman to inspect the weapon more closely. The metal was something he couldn’t identify. Not iron or copper; steel was definitely out… Some kind of composite perhaps?

“The curiosity on your face is all I need to know,” Sandra said. “You recognize something strange about this, don’t you?”

“Artifice was indeed used,” Dren replied after a long period of silence. “But not a form I’m familiar with.”

“Assassins come and go,” Sandra said. “I know that I saw my fair share of them when living with Arthur. But this is different. No one has claimed victory. And the method…an attack during a serious meeting where every magical security measure was accounted for. Something stinks, Dren. And that is why I am asking for you to find the killer.”

Dren slowly nodded. “Do you have any suspects?”

“I do,” Sandra quietly murmured. She looked around just in case anyone was listening in. The great tower behind Dren and Salla was quiet today and there was no one doing work outside of the Den. “I believe that the killer was hired by one of Arthur’s living family members.”

That sent a chill down Dren’s spine. “What do you mean?”

The woman sighed. “Arthur has two sons, three daughters and an uncle who have lived off of his wealth for all their lives. They aren’t industrial types, not in the least. They grew up enjoying the riches of Arthur’s industry but never pitching in to help. His first ex-wife, Linda, whom he sired these children, also enjoyed the money without contributing a single thing.”

“Why would any of them want him dead? He’s their meal ticket,” Dren asked.

Sandra shrugged. “Word is that with his desires changing to become more focused on developing Arthursberg into something bigger, he was going to be selling his home in Drift City and moving on. Most everyone resides there. If you ask me, one of them is behind it.”

Dren shut the box and took a deep breath. “I’ll find the murderer,” he said. “No matter what it takes.”

Chapter 3

Dren sat in his workshop, quietly observing the murder weapon in front of him. Artifice was not well known in this world and there were few who practiced it openly. He checked his character sheet to see if there were any tools that he had available for learning more about this mysterious rod.

Name: Dren

Class: Artificer

Specialization: Cog Commander

Level: 8

XP: 0/8,000

Stats:

HP: 13

MP: 6

Speed: 3

Defense: 7

Poison: +5

Skills:

Artifice: A

Identify: A

Search: A

Appraise: C

Command: A

Control: B

Trapfinding: A

Mechanics: B

Herbalism: C

Researching: C

Butchery: D

Architecture: C

Abilities:

Reduce to Elements: With a mere touch, you are able to Reduce any Inert Object to its elements. This takes 1 minute per Element received. The object is dissolved and you gain a collection of Elements based on the quality and purity of the object. These Elements become cubes that have weight.

Combine Elements: When you have access to Elements in Pure or Cube Form, you can combine them to produce an Effect. These Effects must be discovered and are automatically recorded by the System for later replication.

Craft Designs: If you have a Schematic and the appropriate Crafting Material, you are able to craft with Artifice.

Feats:

Break It Down: Destroying a Magical Item grants its Schematic.

Build Faster: Adds +20% Progress each time you Work on a Design.

Hard Stomach: You gain +5 Defense against Poisons.

Upgrades!: Select one Schematic and unlock 3 Upgrades.

Rebuilder: You can repair broken inventions after 3 days of work.

Extra Schematic: You gain one additional Schematic this level.

Cheaper Builds: Reduce the copper cost by 10 to a minimum of 1.

Linked I: You can Command up to 2 Cogbots with a single Command Point.

Cog Upgrades: You can now upgrade existing Cogbots.

Metallurgist: You may use your Artifice Skill for any metalwork

Superior Cog Upgrades: You can now Upgrade your Cogbots in batches of up to 6, paying the base cost for only one.

Compassionate Commander: Your Companions gain +5 HP as long as they are in the field with you.

Defensive Position: All Companions gain +4 Defense and +2 Speed.

Room and Board: Staff do not require Upkeep or Pay.

Schematics

Cogbotics:

Level 1:

Skitterbot

Level 2:

Shieldbot

Cannon Friend

Level 3:

Floating Crossbow

Crewbot

Automatons:

Level 1:

Autogauntlet

Upgrades:

Strength

Combat Efficiency

Skill Increase

Element Extractor

Level 2:

Mechanical Turk

Steam Wagon

Level 3:

Crafting Machine

Combat:

Level 1:

Junk Gun

Level 2:

Spell Pistol

Level 3:

Wandgun

Hand Cannon

Exploration:

Level 1:

Scurry Boots

Walking Bug

Level 2:

Autograpple Backpack

Level 3:

Mining Mole

Stalking Bug

Despite all of the designs and creations at his disposal, Dren was out of luck when it came to identifying this weapon. His Identify skill did not even seem to work on the device and well…everything else was just a matter of recipe and creation.

As much as Dren did not want to admit it, he was at a loss here. A Level 8 Cog Commander lacked the ability to reverse engineer this piece of artifice. The best he could do was break it down, but in doing so, it would destroy the murder weapon itself. That didn’t seem to be the best idea. Not unless he had explored all the other options first.

Fortunately, Dren did have an ace in the hole. His friend Marvin was a mage who had plenty of identify abilities. Perhaps he would be able to assist in figuring out where the hell this weapon came from, let alone what metal it was composed of.

The magician arrived after a few hours and entered the lab. Marvin was looking well-fed, his cheeks fuller than Dren could remember. The man wore a black tuxedo with a top hat though it looked as if he would need to have his vest tailored a little more as it was tight on him.

“There he is!” Dren said, clasping his hands together as Marvin sat at the table across from the Artificer. “The master magician himself.”

“You only call me a master magician when your artifice isn’t able to tell you what’s up,” Marvin replied. “But I suppose I can’t blame you for calling in a superior intellect.”

Dren didn’t laugh at the jest. There was a numbness in him that was overwhelming and he didn’t react much to the words.

Marvin could sense the tension. “You okay man?”

“I’m still trying to process Arthur’s death,” Dren replied. “It’s like…well, it’s like it happened minutes ago even though it’s almost been a week.”

“I only met the guy a handful of times,” Marvin replied. “I can’t imagine what it was like to see him killed in front of you.”

“It was shocking to say the least,” Dren said. He pointed to the weapon on the table in front of him. “I’m going to find out who did this. And bring them to justice. But I need your help with it.”

“Of course, anything,” Marvin replied, turning his focus to the rod. He furrowed his brow as he examined it. “What is this?”

Dren explained the curiosity of the weapon to the magician. “It’s made of a metal I’ve never encountered before,” he said. “And the other metals are carefully designed to not give away the function of the item.”

“I think I got this,” Marvin said. He took out one of his magical wands. It was a slender black stick with a white tip at the end of it. The tip burned with magical energies, letting out a bit of smoke as Marvin tapped the wand against the weapon. A flash of white energy coursed across the wand and instantly a menu appeared in front of Dren.

Death Wand Analysis

Composition:

10 Blue Nickel Cubes

15 Gold Cubes

5 Silver Cubes

2 Black Heart Crystals

Stored Spell: Stop Heart

“It’s a wand,” Marvin said. “Meant to stop a heart instantly.”

Dren glanced at the words ‘Black Heart Crystals’. He had never heard of such an element before. That and the Blue Nickel…

“Do you know what a black heart crystal is?” Dren asked.

“I don’t know the first thing about artifice,” Marvin replied. “But I can tell you one thing. Blue Nickel only comes from one place and that’s Drift City.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not really nickel; it’s some kind of metal that’s found deeper in Drift City’s bedrock. They have a mine there where they were looking for copper and iron a long time ago,” Marvin said. “Blue Nickel has excellent magical conductivity and is mostly used by the magicians and wizards who reside in the magic schools. The stuff isn’t cheap, I’ll tell you that.”

Another sign that this was connected to Drift City. Dren took a deep breath. “Is the metal common?”

“I wouldn’t say common, but I’m willing to bet you could track down whoever made this wand with a tracer spell,” Marvin said. “I’m not terribly good at Wayfinding so you’re going to have to find someone else.”

“The killer used teleportation…” Dren muttered. “They could have been in Drift City one moment and then at the dinner the next. Back within a matter of seconds.”

“That kind of magic would require a lot of energy,” Marvin said. “Or maybe there’s a branch of artifice that makes teleportation easier. Hard to tell.”

Dren shrugged. “Artifice is seen as a joke in most places.”

“Yeah, but I’ve heard through the grapevine that because of you, there has been a committee that has been trying to verify whether it’s really a field of magic or not. And results are said to be positive,” Marvin replied. He stood up. “Looks like you found some answers, though I don’t know if they’re terribly helpful. Anything else you need?”

Dren shook his head. “I suppose I’m heading to Drift City.”

“Good luck on the trip, that’s going to be one hell of a walk…”

Dren dismissed Marvin and headed to find his girlfriend, Salla. She was resting in the lounge of the Den, reading a romance novel as she reclined in a long red sofa.

“Salla,” Dren said, sitting beside her. She propped one of her legs on his shoulders and shook him a little.

“What’s on your mind, chief?” she asked.

“I’ve got a lead. Some kind of crystal was used to create the death wand that killed Arthur,” Dren explained. “And it seems that the metal used was specific to a single region…Drift City.”

“Oh! Are we going?” she asked, sitting up and clasping her hands together.

“Well, that’s the hard part, Sals,” Dren said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I am going. Alone. I need you to stay here and keep an eye on operations. Princess Alara Dagon has been insistent that we begin delving deeper into the West End Dungeon and while I was hoping to captain the operation…I think this murder requires more of my immediate attention.”

“So you want me to stay behind and handle everything related to delving into the big dungeon,” Salla said. She nodded dutifully. “I suppose I can stay behind.”

Dren kissed her gently on the cheek. “I’d feel a lot better if I knew someone competent was sticking around.”

Salla turned at the last moment and allowed the kiss to land on her lips. Dren was caught by surprise by this and blushed as he pulled away. They were gentle lovers, moving quite slowly, but Salla was always full of surprises. He would certainly miss her on the journey.

“I’m taking the Walking Bug,” he said. “Drift City is far from here so if anything serious comes up, you’re going to have to be the one to take care of it. No second guessing yourself or waiting for me to come back and handle it.”

“You’ve got it. Now go, I need to finish this book and find out if the hero is going to fall for that goofy girl.”

Chapter 4

The Walking Bug ambled along the long path leading towards Drift City. There was a single road that would take him from Arthursberg all the way to his destination, but it was going to be a long trip. Dren had never been outside of his hometown before, aside from his trips into the deeper parts of the forest. But now he was departing in the hopes of finding a murderer.

It was a thousand miles to get to Drift City from here. This was the kind of trip that few people would ever make in their life, but thankfully the Walking Bug’s speed could be adjusted to move even faster since they were moving downhill. Dren’s vehicle marched for hours as the Crewbot piloting it chattered information to itself.

“Drift City,” Dren muttered to himself as the device moved along.

He had heard of the towers there, the impossible skyscrapers that littered the streets. That was where his parents had moved to in order to escape from dealing with his disabilities and the shame of being his parents. The city itself was massive, so Dren had no fears about running into his family. But he was curious to see what the place would be like, compared to his own town. He supposed that they would be like night and day.

He traveled for a few days without any hassle, but by the fourth day, he could sense that something was off about the woods. The Verdant Forest usually made quite a bit of noise but today there was deathly silence hanging in the air. Something was following his vehicle but Dren couldn’t figure out what it was. He scanned the area but saw nothing.

Then in an instant, something happened.

From the nearby tree, a long chain fired out and speared Dren in his metal arm. The chain was made of rusted iron with a spike at the end that was a crude harpoon of some kind. Dren was too slow to react and within seconds, he was yanked out of the Walking Bug, sent to crash down to the ground.

Above, in the trees, were men wearing red masks around their faces. They were armed with bows that had chainshot ammunition. As he fell, multiple spears struck him in the torso. They pierced his armor but did not get to his flesh. He struggled to break free but could do nothing as he plummeted to the dirt.

As he was about to crash, the chains all straightened hard and he stopped inches above the earth, dangling without control. Again, he wriggled and fought against his restraints but it was useless.

Men slid down the trees, those who were armed with long spears and adorned with blood red cloaks that flowed in the wind. They too were wearing masks and said nothing. They merely approached him.

“One for the harvest!” a tall man with an eye patch finally exclaimed.

“High level too, if he was operating something like that,” another whispered.

“Let me down this instant!” Dren demanded, swinging his arm in vain. The men atop the trees pulled hard on the chains, forcing his limbs apart.

“I think not,” the eye patch guy said as he came up to Dren with a cloth. He shoved it in the Artificer’s face and then, everything went back…

Dren drifted in his dreams. There, he saw many things: the death of Arthur, the smile of Salla and the sounds of chanting. The sounds grew louder and louder until finally, he was awake once more.

One eye opened itself up and he glanced around. He was dangling above a large pit, chains wrapped around his arms. His Autogauntlet had been removed, as had been the rest of his gear. He was in plain clothes, with a red cloak bound tightly around his torso as if he were bundled up.

It was nighttime out and the chanting was perpetual. Dren’s thoughts were muddled as the effects of whatever poison had knocked him out slowly subsided.

Flames! He looked below to find that at the bottom of the pit lay red hot coals, with a fire burning steadily. The heat licked at his feet and he could feel pain slowly working its way through his toes.

Twenty men surrounded him, all bowing down before the pit. They were adorned in the same red masks and cloaks as when he first saw them, their hands going up and down as they worshipped something he couldn’t see.

A woman stood before the congregation, her hair white and wild, curling in every direction. The one lock hanging from her head was burning perpetually with fire, though it did not seem to harm her. Her right hand was missing; instead there was a long wooden staff affixed to her stump. This staff had a red gem, glistening with magical energies, and she was raising it above the fire.

“He awakens!” the woman cackled. “The sacrifice is ready!”

Sacrifice? What in the hell was going on? Dren struggled for a moment, trying to free himself from the chains but they held tightly around his wrist. He swung back and forth above the fire pit.

“What in the hell are you doing?” Dren shouted.

“You have been chosen to make the Fire Below spread!” she replied, waving her staff. Her lock of hair began to burn brightly as did the gem, the two stoking the fires beneath Dren. The heat rose up and singed his skin, causing his eyes to water. The bad leg was hurting even more now and he writhed in agony. “But first you must confess your sins! Speak now. What is your name?”

“I’m Dren,” he said. “And I have no sins!”

This caused the congregation to all laugh wickedly. The woman chortled and turned to face the people. “He says he has no sins!”

“What a fool!” someone from the crowd shouted.

This wasn’t going to go well. Dren glanced around to check if there was some way out. The forest area was dark except for the flames. A few torches were placed in the ground but they gave off dim light. If he could break free…

“The Fire Below demands that you speak all transgressions before you are taken by the flames!” the woman shouted.

“If you let me down, I’m sure we can talk this over,” Dren replied.

The woman responded to this by raising her staff completely above her head. The flames grew more intense but did not jump up to consume Dren just yet. The pain was intense and he yelped in agony. “Speak!”

“I mean…what do you want?” Dren pleaded. “I’m a good man! I’ve done nothing wrong and your god, whoever you serve, he would not want me!”

The woman narrowed her eyes as she examined Dren carefully. “You are a freak. Your body is burned and mutilated. Without devices you cannot walk well and your face shows that the fire has already tried to take you once before.”

“That was an accident from childhood,” Dren said. “I was hit by an explosion when two mining carts with dynamite rammed into each other. It could have happened to anyone.”

“You are speaking of fate!” the woman replied. “The fate of flame itself! Surely you must have had some evil in your heart, some cruel sins that led the Fire to choose you. Your parents should have ended your misery then and there, so that you could join the Fire Below!”

This was going nowhere. Dren needed to figure something out and quick. He glanced upwards, straining his neck to see what was holding him. Just a metal chain. Perhaps if he focused…

Dren started to swing his legs back and forth. This caused the chain hanging from the branch to creak. What if he used his reduction ability? The metal wasn’t that dense. It might take a few seconds to simply turn the links into nothing more than a handful of cubes.

“The Hosts say that sacrifice is a cruel and evil practice!” Dren protested. “Surely you must know that the heavens do not smile upon this.”

“Heavens!” the woman laughed. “Hosts? You foolish mortal! Can you not pierce the veil of your own madness? The Hosts are not gods to serve. They are mere entities, beings that grant spells and magic to clerics in exchange for ritual. We serve a deity that speaks! That whispers. Listen now! Hear the Fire Below and confess!”

There was silence for a moment. Everyone ceased their chanting and lay upon their faces. The leader sank to her knees and pressed her face against the dirt. Now was Dren’s chance.

He swung back and forth, focusing his mind on his restraints. He could feel the trance come over him, the mental meditation that allowed his artifice abilities to activate. The metal was weak and he could feel it begin to crumble in his thoughts. But before he could do anything else, there came a dark voice from below.

“I am here,” a gravely, disembodied voice muttered from the flames. “You have brought me another sacrifice.”

Dren’s eyes went wide as he gazed down into the pit. There was some kind of presence within the fire now, turning the red flames dark black. He shivered as the presence spread out across the entire area, sending chills down his spine despite the intensity of the heat. Something moved up to touch his toes, a long curling lash of fire that wrapped around him. That was all he needed to force the chains to break right then and there.

Instantly, the metal around his arms faded, crumbling into cubes. This was at the height of his swing and he broke free, sailing to the edge of the pit. His feet hit the solid ground and he lunged forward, grabbing the woman’s long hair for stability. She yelped in surprise as he staggered forward, pushing past her and running with all of his might.

“He breaks free!” the leader cried. “Seize him!”

Two larger guards stood from their supine positions and rushed to grab Dren. He shot to the right and rolled past them. The others started to stand as well but the flames from the pit rose up like massive tendrils, striking the cultists.

“I did not say to cease your worship!” the foul voice bellowed. The fire speared three men, killing them on the spot. “Fall to your knees!”

Everyone responded to the demand without hesitation. Even the larger guards dropped to the ground and bowed in respect of this strange entity.

Dren dashed away, hobbling along as fast as he could. His bad leg was burning with agony and he collapsed only a few feet away from the group.

Behind him he could see the fire rise up. It became an enormous pillar that illuminated the entire area, revealing dozens of cages with skeletons within them. Dren rolled onto his back and gazed at the fire, making out a silhouette within. The fire was burning black but a figure stood inside, red as ember, flickering with a cruelty that sent terror straight into his heart.

“Speak, prophet!” the flames cried out.

The woman’s hair ignited but she did not burn, nor did the hair wither away. She stood tall and aimed her stump staff towards Dren. “Do you see now? The Fire Below is a god! A true power that demands your fealty. To be sacrificed is honor. To die in the flame is to be taken to the depths of the Great Fire Fields, where you shall be made anew! Your withered body remade in a better image! Your flesh made into flame that does not end!”

Dren climbed to his feet, pushing his arms free of the cloak wrapped around him. He didn’t know what to do. He was almost entranced by this creature within the fire. It was a power he had never seen nor experienced before. The presence was overwhelming.

“You must confess what sin made you impure!” she cackled, pointing the staff at Dren’s chest. Long tendrils of wood emerged from the staff, snaking around Dren’s torso.

“Hosts deliver me!” Dren shouted, not knowing what else to say. He had never been a particularly religious man, as the Hosts were distant and without direct rule over mankind. But in this moment, he genuinely prayed that one of them would come down to bring him aid.

Of course, nothing happened.

“We cry to our god and he arrives to speak,” the leader said. “You cry out and no one answers. Will you now submit yourself to the flames?”

Dren was at a complete loss. Religion was not his specialty. He took a deep breath. “Fire Below, I wish not to besmirch your power. But I am not a man of sin or cruelty. Indeed, many sins have been delivered upon me because of how I look. But I was merely injured, harmed by an accident that could have hit anyone. My life was made lesser when I lost my body’s ability to work regularly. And the discoloration on my face has led me to be called many things.

“I endured cruelty at the hands of many but I did not deign to harm them. I rose above. If you truly are a god, then would you not be able to see that I am free of evil? That I have done nothing that earns me a place in your kingdom?”

There was silence in the air for a moment. The figure within the flames raised a hand. “This mortal speaks truth. He is without blemish. Within his heart, I see only suffering. And yet…yet there is something that could be curled to vengeance. Do you not desire to destroy your fellow man for what they have done? Have you not wished to have power over them?”

“What good would that do?” Dren asked. The wood around him began to wither and fade, leaving him free. He backed away a few feet, his left leg hurting with each step. The pain was so bad that he was losing sight in his eyes.

“You speak of good…what good is it to be without strength?” the voice said. “Step into the pit of your own will and I shall rebuild your arm and leg. I shall sear the weakness away from your flesh. You need not to fear death. Join us, for you are strong in heart. Join us and become one with me for only a moment. What shall emerge will be far greater than anything you can dream of.”

“I respectfully decline,” Dren said. “I have my own path to walk.”

The flames grew brighter and brighter until all around Dren it looked like daytime. In the distance, to the north, he could see the Walking Bug standing idly by. It was hard to miss as it glistened in the brightness of the flames. Dren bit the inside of his cheek and decided he was going to make a run for it.

He tried to sprint but it was no good. The moment he took off, his bad leg gave way and his face planted firmly into the dirt.

“You are nothing without your machines,” the prophetess declared. “You have no power but that which you have cobbled on your lonesome.”

“I can build new legs, new arms,” Dren muttered.

“Brand his leg,” the fire spoke. “The one that is unmarred. Burn it with my symbol and release him.”

“As you will it!” the woman cried out. She approached Dren and pressed her gem staff to his good leg. He yelped in pain as a burning heat washed over the back of his thigh. Words appeared in front of him.

You have been Marked by the Fire Below! +10 HP!

Despite the pain, Dren felt his body grow sturdier.

“You have been blessed this day,” the woman growled. “For the Fire Below has deigned to allow you a taste of his power.”

“Should your other limbs be branded, they will return to full use,” the voice in the flames said. “Gaze upon your body! See that you are stronger now than you were. Do you doubt my power?”

“I don’t doubt your power, great fire,” Dren said. “But I simply wish to be free.”

“How free are you, without your tools?” the voice taunted. “Go then, take your toys, those silly devices and leave this place.”

Everything in the area went dim except for a single box in between several of the cages. It lit up to show Dren where his belongings had been stored.

“But do not think that I have gotten nothing,” the voice continued. Dren climbed to his feet and walked forward, feeling a strange vigor within him. “For you have been marked. When you wish it, when you realize that your flesh is weak and will fail without my aid, call upon me. I shall eagerly accept you into the Cult of the Red. And you, Dren? You shall be one of my greatest servants!”

Chapter 5

Escaped the Flames! 500 XP Gained! appeared in Dren’s vision as he manned the Walking Bug, quickly ordering it to leave the area. His head was blank after that strange encounter. The cult did not follow after him and they did not protest as he took his gear back.

What in the hell had he just witnessed? Some strange forest barbarity? Some evil that could not be understood? Or were they truly devout followers of a god who would have rebuilt him? They had demanded that he confess his sins after all. The intensity…the strangeness…it was all too much for him.

He gazed at the symbol on his leg. It was a circle with a line through the middle, burned perfectly red—almost like a tattoo. His health points had increased significantly as well from this supposed blessing. His normal HP was 13 but now he was sitting at 23. That was as if he had leveled three times over and chosen HP each time. Surely that would come in handy when exploring and dungeoneering but…but what did this all mean?

Dren had no clue. He focused on getting out of the woods as quickly as possible, accelerating the march of the bug and keeping his hands on the controls, tightly gripping them. He had many thoughts in his head but none of them helpful.

“Marked…” he muttered. “I’ve been marked. What does this…”

He trailed off and simply meditated on the experience, playing it over and over again in his head until finally, the vehicle emerged from the woods. He was atop a hill and the height advantage allowed him to see something breathtaking. A large clearing leading into Drift City.

“Woah…” he gasped, his mind forgetting the Fire Below for a moment. There were towers! Hundreds of them, maybe even thousands. The city was full of light and towers that spiraled so high that even at a distance they looked impressive. The skyscrapers had long spires that pierced the heavens and he could see factories with smoke stacks blowing high into the air. A sign nearby told him the city was only three miles away. Perhaps he could get some answers there.

The Walking Bug climbed down the hill quickly enough and cleared the distance with ease. Dren had plenty of fuel packed for the trip, enough to get to the city and back, so he was comfortable accelerating.

The city loomed above him as the dirt in the ground slowly turned into gravel and then smooth brick pavement. The towers became mind-bogglingly larger, dwarfing even his impressive walking device. Dren grew dizzy as he looked up, trying to guess how tall each tower really was. They were clustered together in clumps, three or four towers per block and each block making up a mile of the city.

There was no wall around Drift City. Instead there were fences that surrounded the place. Each fence was a different color and the bricks were made up of corresponding colors as well. From a distance, it seemed that every part of the city was sorted into different districts.

“Woah there!” a man shouted as he approached Dren’s Walking Bug. He was a city guard, wearing armor and carrying a pike on his back. He had both hands up. “What in the blazes are you riding? No monsters in the city, mate!”

“It’s not a monster!” Dren replied, pulling on a few levers, causing the machine to lower itself to the ground. “It’s a vehicle.”

“We’ve gotten a dozen reports of a giant ladybug walking to destroy the city!” the friendly guard replied, laughing a little. “Half of the Blue District is weighing whether to evacuate the towers.”

“Oh, oops,” Dren said, raising both hands to show that he was friendly. The man in question wasn’t particularly threatening; he was a young fellow, around Dren’s age. He didn’t bear his weapon nor did he show any malice. “I am absolutely just a visitor.”

“First time in the city, eh?” the man asked. He approached the side of the device and knocked on it with his knuckles. “What a machine!”

“Is there a place to park or…” Dren trailed off. He looked around but this part of the city was without a merchant’s entrance. In fact, there was no foot traffic or wagons around him. Though he was spotted much earlier, so perhaps people were taking cover.

“Why don’t you just keep your machine on the ground like that,” the guard replied. “Normally, we have to uh…confiscate weapons and such…a device like this could easily knock down a tower if it was in the wrong hands.”

Dren pulled out the command key that allowed him to operate the bug. “It won’t work without this,” Dren explained, showing the long copper rod. “I could give it to you if that would make you feel better.”

“It would!” the man replied. He eagerly took the key and looked at Dren, grinning. “And here I thought I had drawn the short straw. They said ‘Terrance, go find out why that guy is riding a monster’ and I was positive I’d be killed.”

“No, no I come in peace,” Dren said. “I’m Dren from Dren, Twisp and Associates. I’m a merchant and Artificer.”

“Artifice?” Terrance asked. “Is that a form of magic?”

“Yup.”

“Never heard of it but you’re definitely welcome in the city,” the man said. He pointed towards an area where a blue gate was opened. “You’ll have to come in that way and get checked in. Visitors are welcome in Drift City but there is a bit of business to declare and such. And we do need to er…” he trailed off and looked at Dren’s arm. “What in the hell is wrong with your arm?”

“Oh, this is my Autogauntlet. My normal arm is pretty busted up and I can’t use my fingers very well, so I built a mechanical hand.”

“Weird…” Terrance got closer to examine it. “You’re wearing armor, got a walking machine and a metal hand…any chance you would consider yourself an adventurer?”

“I do adventure, yes,” Dren said. He grimaced. Was this going to be a problem?

“Well, that will make processing you a lot easier. Most of the time merchants need licenses to carry weapons and such,” Terrance said. “But adventurers just need a single oath to be taken. Come on, let’s get you sworn in and on your way.”

Dren climbed out of the bug and took a deep breath of the city air. He couldn’t help but stare upwards in awe. The smell was strange, not unpleasant but it was almost as if the air itself was being cooled by something.

“What you’re smelling is Frost Air,” the guard said, sensing Dren’s question before he could ask. “One of the mage guilds built a big tower in the center of the city that turns all temperatures into a single one: a cool seventy-two degrees. No matter the weather outside, it will always be cool but not cold. Heat waves? Don’t worry about them!”

Terrance led Dren up to the gate and the city grew around him as they walked. The outside of Drift City was quiet but inside? Well, that was a different story. The city was teeming with life; the towers were full of people and the windows were mostly open. Some towers had massive platforms that rose and sank on the sides, carrying people up and down. Hundreds of citizens were around, shopping, cleaning or working.

“Welcome to Drift City, the Miracle of the Middle!” Terrance said, slapping Dren on the back. “Right this way.”

The streets were not terribly crowded, despite how dense the population was. Dren noticed that there were no shops on the bottom floor. Instead, people would go to platforms that brought them quickly to floors of towers where the shopping was taking place. Magical signs were hanging everywhere, illusionary lights flickering to show off the various items that were for sale, offering bargains and hawking wares.

“Why are there no stores on the ground level?” Dren asked as they approached one of the few buildings that wasn’t miles high. It was a large metal chateau with two windows and a large door in the center. The words Guard Station 119 was painted on a metal sign above the door. Two men were standing behind the windows, manning the stations. Dren noticed there was a large alarm bell hanging from the side of the wall, with a metal rope that could be pulled by anyone.

“Ah, city laws. Blue District keeps the grounds tidy and clean by mandating that merchants rent at least one level above the ground floor,” Terrance said. “Also keeps traffic down to a minimum. Of course, the good shopping is in the Emerald District and if you’re looking for a drink, Aletown is where you want to be.”

“Aletown?”

“The Yellow District,” Terrance explained. “We call it Aletown because anything stronger than a beer can only be served there. Here we are, hang out in the front and I’ll get you checked in.”

Dren stood in front of the first window and waited. The guard entered the building and, after a minute, dismissed the other guard manning the window. Terrance leaned against the counter and opened up the window for Dren. “Alright, so you’re an adventurer, yeah?”

“Yup,” Dren said. He was many more things than that but didn’t feel a need to complicate his visit.

“Great, so first and foremost, welcome to Drift City, the Crown of Crowns. We have proudly been operating for the last four hundred years and you are one of millions who will visit this place,” Terrance said. He took out a small ribbon and placed it on the counter in front of Dren. It was a blue ribbon with a symbol of Drift City, two large towers atop a globe. “This is your welcome gift, the Badge of Visitation. You don’t have to wear it but if you do get into trouble with the law here, they will ask for it, so make sure you have it handy.”

Dren took the badge and proudly placed it on his vest, pinning it right above his armored plate. “I’m happy to wear it.”

“Some places give free crap if they see you wearing one, tourism is one of our most vital industries,” Terrance said. “Now then, a few ground rules. First and foremost, guards are the law as far as you are concerned. What they say goes. If you feel a guard is being unfair in their judgment, you are free to appeal with the court system but that takes a lot of time.

“No stealing, entering buildings without explicit permission and certainly, and I mean certainly, no interfering with citizens. The way the laws work, a citizen has rights and privileges that allow them to go about their day without trouble. If someone says ‘leave me alone’, you better leave them alone. At any time we have the right to eject you from the city, no questions asked. And that can’t be appealed without paying a hefty fine.”

“Got it, I’m certainly not here to cause trouble,” Dren replied.

“I didn’t get the feeling you were, but trouble can always vary. So what you need to do next is take an oath as an adventurer. After that you’re free to go about your devices.”

The man produced a piece of paper on a clipboard and slid it towards Dren. “It’s all written out nicely here. You just need to sign.”

Dren glanced at the words.

I hereby swear that, as an adventurer, I shall:

- Serve the Needs of the City

- Handle Quests with Dignity and Grace

- Obey the Local Laws

- Protect Those Who Are in Need of Aid without Asking for Recompense

- Keep Property Damage to a Minimum

“Any questions?” Terrance asked.

“Seems pretty easy enough,” Dren said. He took a pen from the man and signed his name at the bottom of the document.

“Great, here is your official Questbook,” the man replied, taking out a small bound leather book and handing it to Dren. “Our city is certainly safe to walk but like any place, there are always problems and dangers that need handling. Each time you take a Quest when in the city, your Questbook will log the results and as you complete them, you will gain access to City Benefits.”

“Interesting,” Dren said. “What kind of benefits?”

“Oh well, the mages here have worked hard on the quest systems to ensure that every guild works together. Quests completed grant Benefit Points. These unlock ranks, guild entryway, discounts at certain stores and even special blessings. Of course, they only apply when you’re in Drift City but trust me, a quest blessing can be really useful. And if you complete enough of these, you might even qualify for citizenship! Normally the process takes a lot longer to achieve, you have to live here for two years and work a regular job that benefits the city, but adventurers get all sorts of shortcuts.”

Dren closed the book and pocketed it. “Thanks! Anything else?”

“Nope. Like I said, usually people need to justify why they have weapons and declare what kind they have but adventurers come in heavily armed only to abandon most of their gear in a level or two. It’s impossible to keep up,” Terrance said. He produced a small identification card and held it in front of Dren. The card flashed for a moment and light washed across the Artificer’s face. In an instant, the card etched a portrait of him, and his name and level appeared on the card, as well as his class. It said Mage-Other instead of Artificer.

“This is your official Adventuring ID. Now—” The man paused to look around for a moment before he leaned in. “I’m not saying it will cause guards to become lenient on you if you flash it but most of the time citizens lose arguments against adventurers in good standing. Most guards know that some omelets require far more broken eggs than anything else, so you keep that handy.”

Dren took the card and marveled at it. There was a red stamp on the card denoting his Adventuring Rank: F.

“This city really takes adventuring seriously,” Dren said.

“Oh, you bet it does! Adventurers are the grease that keeps Drift City spinning,” Terrance said.

“So we’re good?” Dren asked.

“Yes,” Terrance said. “You signed the paper, got the credentials. You are free to run wild. And if you give it a minute…” He trailed off for a moment.

Suddenly, there was a ringing throughout the entire district. The buildings all turned a single color: green. The lights flashed for a moment before they turned to blue. The colors lasted for a moment and then the sound was gone and the buildings returned to normal.

“And it’s afternoon!” Terrance said, tossing his pike to the side and pulling off his blue sash. “I’m off. Come on, let me take you to Aletown, we can enjoy your first official drink, on me!”

“What was that?” Dren asked as Terrance rejoined him outside.

“Timekeeping! The whole city is attuned to a central lightning system that follows four phases, morning, afternoon, evening and after midnight. Everyone works in shifts here, you don’t have to wait for your boss to tell you you’re off the clock, the city will alert you!”

“Does it make noise late at night?” Dren asked. “I could imagine that would wake everyone up.”

“Half the town is asleep right now, waiting for the night music to get them up for their shifts. Drift City is not a place that sleeps, it’s a place that teems with life and light. Most folks are usually too tired from all their work to pay any mind to the noise and you get used to it after a while,” Terrance explained. He had changed out of his armor and was now wearing a snazzy blue shirt with a light brown pair of trousers.

“Fascinating,” Dren said. He licked his lips. “I think I’ll take you up on that drink.”

“Awesome! It sucks to drink alone,” Terrance said. “Say, you got that arm that works for you, those skittering legs that walk for you, you have a metal mouth that drinks for you too?”

“That would take the fun out of it!” Dren replied.

Terrance laughed and gestured towards one of the streets. “This way.”

Dren liked that Terrance guy. He was friendly and affable, a fine representative of the city guard. His difference was treated as a novelty and not something to hate, which Dren could appreciate. A far cry from how he was treated in his hometown.

They walked through the streets of the blue district, following various signs that were simply made of yellow with arrows pointing in the direction of Aletown. Despite the number of streets and side alleys that were present, everything was clearly labeled. Each street had a name and it didn’t seem like it was possible to get lost in this place.

As they reached the yellow district, the ground abruptly changed from blue to yellow. There were bridges over a long channel of water that ran through to the south and as they changed districts, the vibe of the city changed as well.

Whereas the Blue District was full of busy people on their way to work or shop, Aletown was far cozier. Most of the buildings there were made out of wood and were only one or two stories high. They sported quaint signs that read off the names of the various taverns and there were a few outdoor taverns with gardens full of patrons who were drinking to their heart’s content.

“Now, the first rule of Aletown is to never and I mean never drink at a place you haven’t been recommended,” Terrance said. “Lots of places pop up for a week or so, claiming to be the next big thing only to end up closing down due to health inspections or bad reviews.”

“You’re the guide!” Dren said. As they walked down the street, a woman in an elegant dress started to shout.

“Help!” she cried, pointing at a man who was running away from her. The man was wearing a hood over his head and was carrying a satchel in his hands. “Thief! Help!”

“That woman was just robbed!” Dren exclaimed, pointing at the thief who was fleeing to an alley.

“Sucks to be her,” Terrance said. “I’m off-duty and a blueberry, this ain’t my district and that certainly isn’t my problem!”

Dren didn’t think as much as he simply reacted. He took off sprinting after the thief at full speed. The guard didn’t chase after him and so Dren was left to follow the bagman down a dark alley.

“Hey stop!” Dren shouted as he came dashing after the thief who was rushing to a building that looked as if it had been closed down. There were boards on the windows but a door that was halfway open.

“Mind your own business!” the thief shouted as he vanished inside.

Dren did not mind his business and instead ran into the building. Inside were four men waiting for him, all wearing hoods. They had knives in their hands and looked startled to see the Artificer burst in.

“What in the hell are you doing here, pal?” one of the men demanded, raising his knife up high.

“Damn bastard is trying to play the hero!” the thief replied. “Mess him up!”

“Woah there!” Dren said, putting his hands up. “I’m not looking for trouble but that guy just took something that doesn’t belong to him. Hand it over and we’ll call it right here.”

“And if we don’t?” the thief’s friend asked.

“If you don’t, I’m going to have to take it back,” Dren replied. He felt a surge of adrenaline rush through him and he took a deep breath. The last thing he wanted was to start his visit to Drift City with a bloodbath, but he was an adventurer and he had sworn an oath to rend aid to the city. A recently signed and sworn oath, but still.

Chapter 6

The thieves were not impressed with Dren’s words in the least. They drew their knives and squatted down, ready to fight. Dren’s Autocannons popped out of the side of his shoulder armor and aimed squarely at the targets.

“I’m warning you,” Dren said. “These bad boys will take you down lickety split.”

“Think you can take us all?” one of the thieves laughed. There were no exit points in the area; the thief was most likely just going to pass the goods to someone else in here and leave the way he came in.

“I don’t need to take you all down,” Dren replied. The first man lunged towards him and his cannons acquired their target, firing instantly. The shots aimed at the man’s knees and hit them square, dealing 5 damage. Dren had the ability to scale his damage down and decided to make a point.

“Arrrgg!” the man shouted, dropping his knife and falling to the ground, clutching his kneecaps.

“These bastards can fire twice as fast and deal a lot more damage,” Dren warned, the smoke pouring from his weapons’ barrels. “Think you can outrun a gun?”

“Take this!” the leader shouted, throwing his knife as fast as he could. The Shieldbot on Dren’s left arm activated and released itself, firing a jet of energy as it sailed upwards to block the shot. The knife pinged off the kite shield and bounced to the ground harmlessly.

Dren aimed his guns at the man. “You really want to try that again?”

The other thieves all looked at each other. “It ain’t worth it, Todd,” one said. “Give him the satchel.”

The leader of the thieves, whose face had turned pale and gaunt, quickly acquiesced to the demand and threw the satchel at Dren’s feet. “Alright, alright!” he said. “We give up, just don’t kill us!”

“That’s what I thought,” Dren replied, scooping up the satchel but keeping his cannons aimed at the lot. He backed away. “You might want to consider a new line of work.”

They all sheathed their knives and backed away, keeping their hands up. “Some kind of metal freak you are,” the thief who had initially stolen the package taunted. “Just you wait, the Silverbands are going to hear about this.”

“You best keep this loss to yourself,” Dren replied. “Else they might wonder why you can’t handle a random adventurer.”

He backed out of the building and no one followed him. Dren hurried back to see the woman who was standing with the guard, fanning herself with an elegant long fan.

“Ma’am,” Dren said, bowing to her. “I believe this bag was yours.”

The woman looked shocked. She was middle-aged, with brown straight hair that ran down past her shoulders. Upon her head was a blue hat with a yellow ribbon in it. She took the bag with trembling hands and clutched it to her chest. “My goodness! You saved me, young man! All of my money was in there!”

“Nice work,” Terrance commented, and the words appeared to be sincere. He clapped Dren on the back. “This is Dren the Adventuring Artificer.”

“Oh Dren, I simply must pay you for your aid,” the woman replied. She went to open up her satchel but Dren held up a hand.

“No ma’am, no payment needed. I took an oath to serve without need for recompense.”

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Just knowing that you have your things back is good enough for me,” he replied with a warm smile.

“Dren the Metal Man…” she mumbled to herself. “Thank you, thank you sir.”

Purse Snatcher Thwarted! 500 XP Gained! appeared in Dren’s vision. He felt a strange urge to look at his new adventure log, so he dug it out and opened up the first page. There was a yellow stamp with details of the quest on it. It was a simple description of the purse snatcher being stopped, but there was also a notification.

Congratulations on completing a Random Quest. You have gained 1 City Benefit!

As Dren looked at the words on the booklet, an interface appeared before him.

Rank 1 City Benefits:

1 Point Benefits:

Room and Board: You gain access to an Apartment where you may sleep and food is provided in a cafeteria.

Adventurer Discount: All prices at Adventuring Stores are reduced by 10%.

Banking: You gain a Bank Account where you may store your DriftCoins and Gold Dollars.

Teleporter Gate: You may use the Fast Travel Points to any District of your choosing.

2 Point Benefits:

Workshop: You gain access to a private Workshop that allows you to Craft.

Guild Access: You may join any Guild at Rank 1.

Reputation Boost: Your Adventurer Rank improves by 1.

Training House: You gain access to a Training House of a Skill of your choice.

3 Point Benefits:

Mage Library: You may enter a Mage Library without paying a fee.

Prestige Quest: You gain access to the Prestige Questboard.

Smithee Assistance: You may use a Smith for free once per week.

Dren gazed at these benefits. They all seemed quite useful but his eyes were immediately drawn to the Workshop benefit. He had no long term plans to stay in the city but then again, he could have scarcely imagined that it would be so huge. Sure, he knew in his head that it was big but visiting and seeing the sheer number of buildings and people all packed together… he may be here longer than expected. A workshop would allow him to continue his building projects, though he’d need to unload the copper and iron that he had brought with him in the Walking Bug.

“You good?” Terrance asked, noticing that Dren was dead silent. The woman had bid them farewell and scuttled off, leaving the two alone in the middle of the busy street.

“Just looking at the city benefits at Rank 1,” Dren replied. “These are…these are incredible.”

“Aha, the first quest always give you a point but you might need to do a few more or some important ones in order to get more,” Terrance said. “Now come on, let’s go get that drink.”

“Why didn’t you help?” Dren asked as they resumed walking through Aletown.

“Bah, there’s always going to be crime in the city. As much as I’d like to think of myself as some big hero, the truth is that I’m not going to risk my life as a Level 2 guard just to save a woman her money. She should put her cash in the banks and use checks, like the rest of us. It’s more her fault for keeping all of it on her,” Terrance replied. “And like I said, I’m off the clock. You adventuring types might never rest but I’m definitely not an adventurer.”

Dren couldn’t fault the man for that. If he was really low level, then the reticence to get involved made some sense. They continued walking together until Terrance unceremoniously stopped in front of a two story building. This tavern had a large wooden sign with letters painted on the side that read ‘Al’s’.

“Ah! Here we are, the finest establishment in Aletown,” Terrance said, pushing through the double doors leading into a smoky building. Men and women were everywhere, sitting at round tables and quaffing drinks of all kinds. Many were smoking from long wooden pipes with thin stems that were nearly a foot long. The smoke and haze caused Dren’s eyes to burn and the scarred eye began to water. The stench was foul.

“Urg, what are they smoking?” Dren groaned.

“Coal Tobacco, a most noxious herb that causes the head to get cloudy and the feelings to become numb,” Terrance replied. “Highly addictive too. Most of these folks are working class types who need something to take the edge off.”

One man, a bulky fellow with a scarred eye took notice of Dren’s discomfort and took a deep drag from his pipe then blew smoke right in his face as he was walking by, causing Dren to hack and wheeze. A murkiness clouded his head and he felt dizzy.

“Don’t worry about the smell, you’ll get used to it. Hard to find a pub in this place without at least one man puffing like a chimney stack,” Terrance said as he sat at the bar counter. In an instant, a bartender came up, a stout fellow with a towel over his shoulder. He was cleaning a glass.

“Oy, it’s Terrance,” the bartender said. “What’ll it be today, officer?”

As Dren sat down besides the guard, Terrance clasped him by the shoulders and shook him a little. “This fellow would like to fall off a tower.”

“Newbie, eh?” the man replied, grinning. “Oh I’ll make sure he plummets.”

“What does that mean?” Dren asked.

The bartender replied by placing a mind-bogglingly long glass in front of him. The cup was thin and had a rounded bottom. He took out a pitcher of beer and began to pour, the yellow frothy liquid filling the entire container to the top. He then took out a bottle of liquor and topped it off. The green liquid pooled atop the beer for a moment before it began to slowly drain into the center of the drink, causing the beer to gain a green core.

“What in the blazes…” Dren laughed.

“This is the Fall off a Tower,” Terrance replied as the bartender repeated his actions for him, placing another yard glass in front of the guard before pouring the unknown liquor. “Al’s specialty, isn’t that right Al?”

“I told ya a thousand times, Al bought the place, I just work here and my name is Ladley,” the bartender grumbled. “Drink up, fellas.”

Dren looked at the monster drink in front of him. He didn’t come into the place with the intention of getting utterly smashed but Terrance lifted his own glass expectantly. With a shrug, Dren raised the heavy glass and clinked it against Terrance’s.

“Cheers!” they both said and they drank from their glasses.

Terrance gulped down the thing in one go but Dren took only a hearty quaff. The liquor had a strong mint flavor that seemed to mingle with the taste of the beer, which had a sour quality to it. The combination was strange but not unpleasant.

“No!” Ladley said, spotting Dren. “You don’t fall off the tower floor by floor, lad! Come on, be a good man and drink like a Drifter.”

Dren didn’t want to offend the customs of the new place but grimaced all the same. He put his glass to his lips and quaffed the entire thing. The flavor burned at first but became smooth near the end and as he polished off the drink, he felt his head go light. Everything spun around him for a moment and he clutched his hands on the bar as if holding on for dear life.

“There it is!” Terrance cheered, slapping Dren on the shoulder. “Two more of these and you’ll be atop a random tower with no memory of how you got there!”

“No, nur,” Dren stammered, trying to get the words out as the head rush continued to assail him. “I’m good with the worn…one.”

Both Ladley and Terrance laughed at that and the bartender obliged, pouring a glass of water for Dren before reloading the guard’s drink with another flight.

“So my friend,” Terrance asked as he slugged down another yard with ease. “What brings you to Drift City?”

“It’s a sordid tale,” Dren replied. “But I’m here to solve a murder.”

Terrance frowned. “Murder? In the city?”

“No. The theory is that someone from Drift City came to my town and killed a friend and business partner of mine. Arthur Twisp,” Dren replied. He said the name as if it would be recognized but Terrance paid little mind to it.

“It’s a big ass city, someone who has a murder to hide would do well to just vanish,” Terrance said. “Of course, killings happen every day here.”

“This was an assassination of the most skilled degree,” Dren explained. “The guy used artifice and magic to teleport in, kill my friend, and then he vanished without a trace. The only thing left behind was a murder weapon.”

Ladley was pretending not to listen in, but he lifted his head at the sound of the tale. “You got it with ya?” he asked.

Dren nodded and dug out the weapon, placing the case on the table and opening it up. “This was made with Blue Nickel and artifice. The nickel could only have come from this city.”

Ladley quietly observed the weapon and narrowed his eyes. “Blue Nickel is mined in the Rockbluff Quarry a few miles from here. Imported into the city and sold to mages. But it’s not cheap stuff. Even a pound of it runs upwards to 3,000 DriftCoins.”

“What are these coins anyway?” Dren asked.

“Gold has a lot of uses for artisanship and magical crafting, so it’s not as in-demand with the rest of the city. Central Admin created their own currency in order to keep prices stable. Gold will still buy you coins, sure, but for the most part people use DC in order to pay for just about everything,” Ladley explained.

To make his point, Terrance took out a handful of coins and placed them on the table. They were silver coins with a tower on one side and a bird on the other side, a dodo from the looks of it. “See? It’s standard fare to pay just about everything in DriftCoins.”

“And the real scam is that you can buy DC with gold but you can’t buy gold with DC,” Ladley added. “So make sure you don’t sink your life savings into this place as a tourist.”

“Some tourism, searching for a murderer,” Dren muttered, leaning his head against the table as the buzz took full effect.

“Cheer up lad, you’ve come to the right place if you’re starting a search,” Ladley said, patting Dren on the head. “Because as a bartender, I hear all sorts of things. And since you’re a good sport about the booze, I’ll tell you where you need to go next. The Synchrony Mages Guild in the Emerald District. They deal exclusively with selling Blue Nickel and they stamp every bar they sell. I’m willing to bet a quick spell will reveal the stamp and they can check their records to tell you who bought this.”

Dren sat up immediately upon hearing this, though he probably shouldn’t have moved so quick as the room began to spin again. “What?”

“Every resource is accounted for in the city. Guilds own and control the raw goods, Crafters buy from Guilders and those are recorded. If a fella was looking to be discrete, he’d have to buy the goods off the black market, with the stamps filed off. But who in the hell is selling Blue Nickel on the black market? Stuff is for magical crafting and steel beam reinforcement. Expensive and only comes from one place,” Ladley explained.

“Emerald District isn’t too far either,” Terrance said. He tapped on the glass and the bartender refilled with another round of Fall off a Tower. How in the hell was the man sitting as if nothing was wobbling all around him?

“Then I’ll need to go there at once,” Dren said. He drank down the water and stood. The ground buckled beneath him and he was on one knee almost instantly. “After I wait this out, that is.”

Chapter 7

The Emerald District was breathtaking. Everything around him was green and the bricks were studded with actual emeralds that glistened in the sunlight. Evening was a few hours away and Dren was able to recover from his drunken state quickly enough to head out. Terrance went home but not before giving Dren his calling card, which told him where to find the man.

“Should you need a place to stay or some extra help figuring out how to navigate, don’t hesitate to give me a call, Metal Man,” Terrance had cheerfully said. “It never hurts to lean on each other. Drifters watch out for tourists and I’m no different. Without folks like you, our economy wouldn’t be nearly the powerhouse that it is.”

If only the people back at Arthursberg were so amicable.

No one seemed to pay Dren any mind as they went about their business in the Emerald District. They were mostly mages and clerics, wearing robes of all kinds as they shuffled in and out of the tall green towers that surrounded Dren. Unlike the Blue District, these towers did not have elevators on the outside. People entered in at the floor level and there were a few market stalls outside, with hawkers selling magical gear.

Finding the Synchronicity Mages Guild was not difficult. The headquarters was a magnificent tower that was taller than the rest, with long metal spikes bending around the sides of it and a great clock in the center. The clock was twenty-four hours and displayed the time with a magical illusion, the seconds ticking up into minutes and then hours. It was 4:33.

Dren approached the glass doors to the tower and they slid open magically, a cool burst of air assailing him from the inside. Despite the temperature outside, this place was way colder on the inside and Dren shivered, realizing now why the folks here were mostly wearing robes and hats.

The interior was spacious with marble flooring that was so polished Dren could see his own reflection in it. A secretary sat behind a large curved desk and waved to Dren as he approached.

“Hi there!” she said. “Are you here on business or do you wish to access our merchant floor?”

“Business,” Dren replied. “I’m looking for someone to assist me with tracking down some Blue Nickel.”

“Records are for guild members and associates only,” the woman replied. “But I’ll get a guild rep to see you.”

“Thank you,” Dren replied. What would a mages guild think of his class as an Artificer? Surely there were rumblings going on in the world about artifice, as some of Dren’s inventions had made it as far as Drift City, but the whole of the mages world seemed to ridicule and belittle such a class.

The woman got up and shuffled out, leaving Dren alone for a few minutes. She returned and waved Dren over to a large pair of doors. “You’re going to floor 5, where the Guild Rep, Shelly is waiting for you. Please don’t wander around, just go straight to the fifth floor.”

Dren thanked the woman, then entered the glass doors. It was an elevator, though much more refined than the ones that The Westend Dungeon used. The buttons were refined and clean, and there was no jerking or sounds of metal scraping as it ascended quickly up to the fifth floor.

The doors swung open wide to reveal a large hallway with dozens of doors on each side. The doors had windows but they were fogged permanently, showing only figures inside but without revealing any of the details. A woman was waiting for him.

She was short and wore her hair back in a bun. Draped around her were green robes and she carried a clipboard in her hands. A pair of squared spectacles sat upon her nose though she mostly looked over them.

“You were seeking a guild representative?” the woman asked. She stretched out a hand to shake Dren’s. “I’m Shelly Mists.”

“Dren,” he replied, shaking her hand gently.

The woman glanced down at the cold metal that was wrapped around her fingers. “What a curious device you have there.”

“It’s a custom magical item,” Dren replied.

“Ah, I see,” she said, turning around and leading Dren to one of the office doors. It was marked with the name Shelly Mist, GR. She unlocked it and led Dren into a room full of plants. These plants were curious things, spotted and polka dotted, some with bulbs the size of his head and others with razor sharp leaves, thorns jutting out from all sides. He had never seen plants like these before.

The ground was covered in some kind of grass that crunched beneath his boots as he walked up to the chair sitting across from Shelly’s desk. He nestled down and looked at a potted fern sitting on the table. It snaked left and right beneath his gaze, as if it were looking back at him.

“So then, Laura tells me that you’re trying to track down some Blue Nickel,” Shelly said, putting the clipboard down and raising her glasses up onto her forehead. The woman folded her hands together. “Judging from your pin, you’re an outsider. Normally we don’t deal with tourists or outsiders because of all the trouble they tend to cause for guilds.”

“Ah!” Dren said, taking out his adventurer’s license and sliding it on the table. “Here, I have something for that.”

“Oh, an adventurer?” she murmured as she looked at the card. “Well, that changes some things. The Guild could always use an adventurer for the work that is too dangerous to send our own. And you’re Level 8 too, that’s certainly high enough to handle some quests for us.”

“Quests?” Dren repeated.

“Indeed, if you’re going to get help from us, you’ll need to help us first,” Shelly replied. She opened one of the desk drawers and began to root around. “And we have quite the backlog.”

The woman produced a thick folder and thumped it on the table before opening it up. She flipped through the pages and pulled a few free. “If you want the Synchronicity Guild’s help, you’re going to need to prove you are worth working with. We have a Records Department that would be more than happy to process your requests but you’ll need to become an Associate and then perform enough Quests to up your rank with us.”

Dren slowly nodded. Nothing in this world was free, that much he knew, and a few quests wouldn’t hurt. Besides, they would help with gaining more City Benefits, which translated to earning a Workshop Space.

“What do you have?”

“For a Level 8 adventurer, I’m comfortable giving you these,” she said, laying out three quests on the table. “You only get one to prove you are worthy of becoming an Associate. Once you have Association, you can take as many as you want, provided that you do them all. Now, these quests aren’t exactly flying off the shelf and we can’t find people willing to do them, so you won’t have to worry about being sniped. Take a look.”

Dren glanced at the papers and his interface immediately registered them.

Quest: Missing Wizard

Description: One of our Wizards, Orlin, has entered into the Abandoned Spire a few weeks ago and has yet to return. There has been no way to contact him nor has he checked in with magical missives. Your mission is to either retrieve the wizard, confirm his fate or get him to check in with us.

Payout: 300 DriftCoins

XP Bonus: 2,500

Quest: Artifact Retrieval

Description: The Soren Stone has been stolen from our vaults by a thief who escaped into the Abandoned Spire. Find the Stone and bring it back.

Payout: 500 DriftCoins

XP Bonus: 1,500

Quest: Collection of Fees

Description: Three Guild Members entered the Abandoned Spire without having paid their dues. They owe 3,000 DriftCoins between all three. Since they have used Guild Resources and borrowed Guild Items, they are required to pay their dues. If they have been slain, the Guild Items must be retrieved.

Items:

Burst Wand

Ring of Agility

Healing Rod

Sword of Alacrity

Payout: 300 DriftCoins

XP Bonus: 2,000

“All of these are in a place known as the Abandoned Spire,” Dren remarked. “What is it?”

“The Grey District had an accident a few decades back and one of the towers was abandoned. Monsters and other spookies got inside and nest within,” Shelly explained. “There’s a lot of treasure to be found, it’s like a vertical dungeon. Each Floor contains its own sort of perils. Criminals and troublemakers also reside in there, trapping the place and keeping it perpetually dangerous. The City officially condemned the spire and told everyone to keep out. Now only adventurers and those looking for secrets or treasure enter.”

Dren rubbed his chin. The missing wizard quest had caught his eye and he took the paper. “I think that I’ll start with finding this Orlin fellow.”

“Oh good, that one is important because normally wizards are good about keeping in contact when entering adventure zones," Shelly replied. “And I’m sure if you can find Orlin, he’d be happy to pay you from his own pocket.”

Dren accepted the mission and watched as his interface uploaded the data. On his map, a district in the distance became illuminated and the Abandoned Spire became highlighted.

“Good luck, come back when you’ve finished. I work 2nd and 3rd Shift every day, so don’t worry about making an appointment.”

Chapter 8

The Grey District, aptly named, was a place without color. The buildings were mostly under construction or decrepit, crumbling all around. There were many people here just as in every other part of the city but these folks were poor. They lived in half-finished structures, squatting in towers that were without solid walls, with some even taking shelter in tents in the streets.

In the distance, Dren could see the Abandoned Spire. It was a long tower that was isolated from the rest of the other towers, though it was taller than most. A long point rose upwards towards the heavens, a nonfunctional clock hanging in the center. It was stuck on 12, the long hand inert and the minute hand perpetually going up and down, unable to complete its circuit.

As Dren walked through the sea of people, a blood red cloak caught his attention. There was a man standing on a street corner, holding pamphlets in his hands and shouting out to the uninterested crowds that were moving past him.

“The Hosts grant spells!” he shouted to the crowd. “They grant spells but so do classes and wizards! What are we to say about them? That they are worthy of being worshipped? That they should be followed? The Fire Below is a true god, a great power! Come to him and he shall set you free from your poverty and misery!”

Images of that terrible night came crashing back to Dren’s mind. All he could think about was the fire burning and he felt a strange pain on his thigh, where the brand rested. The man spotted Dren staring at him and pointed a hand. “You there! Take a pamphlet, learn the truth!”

He extended the paper towards Dren. The Artificer looked at him squarely, wondering if this man had been present at that sacrifice. But he didn’t seem to recognize Dren, only his interest in his words had caused him to speak directly. Dren hesitated but decided to take the pamphlet, his curiosity too great.

“The blessings the Fire gives are greater than any cleric’s power,” the man claimed as Dren approached and took the paper. “Do not think that you are without hope.”

“Thanks.” Dren turned and walked off towards the tower. The stranger in the cloak continued to bark, calling on the people to turn from the Hosts to his own deity. As he walked to the tower, Dren read through the pamphlet.

The Hosts do not give power. They are simply conduits to classes. One does not need to worship them to gain their ability for a class requires only that rituals are performed once at the start of the path. No cleric communes with them and they do not speak. The Fire Below is a powerful god who is responsible for light and flame, his power is endless and his blessings are many. You who are lost can be found! You can join the Cult of the Red and learn what it means to have power for yourself. Your broken body can be healed. Your shattered heart can be mended. And you can gain for yourself a kingdom of fire with the rest of the true believers. All it takes is to simply come to our meetings and learn for yourself.

There was an address for a place in the Blue District, a meeting hall where they congregated together. Dren shivered at the thought of whatever was going on in that place. Did the city know that they sacrificed people? Or were they ignorant to the Cult’s cruelty? He did not know.

Dren crumpled the pamphlet up and tossed it in a trashcan as he approached the Abandoned Spire. The building was old and burned in many places but the walls still held up. Many of the windows were boarded up with wooden planks and Dren could see a sign that warned any who came within range

Caution! This Area is Highly Dangerous, Turn Back! the sign read. Dren took a deep breath and readied himself, drawing his Hand Cannon in his left hand and his gas lantern in the right, affixing it to the Autogauntlet’s pinkie.

“Here goes,” Dren said, approaching the doors and pushing through. Immediately, he was greeted with darkness that seemed to smother all light.

You are entering a Dungeon! Floor One!

Anomalies:

Zone 1: 2

Zone 2: 1

Zone 3: 4

Zone 4: 2

Zone 5: 1

Dren hadn’t been out adventuring in a while. Working with Arthur Twisp for the last year had led him to mostly spend his time in the workshop, building and improving on the Undersuit design. They had had so many plans for expansion into Drift City, to improve the mining systems there, but those plans were now dashed. Dren didn’t know what the future held, but he had a job to do. Orlin was missing and he had to find him.

The first Zone was a lobby with a long desk in the middle. Dozens of tables lay everywhere, shattered and destroyed from some kind of explosion. The darkness seemed to push all around Dren, smothering his lamp light, giving him vision of only a few feet ahead. The rest was shrouded in darkness.

“Who comes here?” a gravelly voice said in the distance. “What are you doing in this place?”

Dren could see a question mark a few feet away; an anomaly was present. Dren raised his hand cannon and looked around for the source of the voice.

Behind the desk was a ghoulish creature, a wiry corpse that was sitting as if he were the receptionist. He had shaggy white hair and half of his face was peeling off.

“I come in peace,” Dren said, inching closer to the desk. He raised his lantern up high but that didn’t seem to do much.

“What is peace in a place like this?” the ghoul asked. “The Abandoned Spire is home only to the dead and to darkness. You best leave before I consume you.”

“You don’t have to attack,” Dren replied. “I’m just looking for someone.”

“And who would that be?” the creature asked.

“A wizard by the name of Orlin,” Dren said. “Have you seen him?”

“I see only a dead man!” the ghoul cackled. He slammed his hand on the table and there was a click from above. A panel on the ceiling opened up and a long metal tube emerged, two green tanks attached to the bottom of it.

Danger! Attack Turret!

Stats:

HP: 12

Defense: 3

Speed: 5

Attacks:

Explosive Fire: Turret shoots a burst of flames that explode on contact, dealing 10 damage.

Tracking Shot: Acquires a Target and Fires, hitting for 15 damage.

Rapid Fire: Shoots three blasts that deal 5 damage each.

The ghoul laughed as the turret made a grinding noise and aimed towards Dren. His Scuttleboots activated immediately and he hurried out of the way as the turret fired, shooting straight at him. He dove to the side and rolled a few feet from the explosion that caused the entire room to light up at once.

Dren’s shoulder cannons popped out and he gave the command for them to shoot at the turret. They acquired their targets and fired simultaneously, sending explosive rounds towards the stationary turret.

The detonations rocked the turret, dealing 5 damage each and dropping the target’s health down to 2.

The turret activated its Rapid Fire ability and unleashed a hell barrage upon Dren. The Artificer managed to duck the first one but the second and third hit him. Fortunately, the damage was separate and his Tinkerer’s Armor held, reducing each blow to 0.

Dren raised his Hand Cannon and fired at the turret, sending a slug straight into the long barrel. The twin glass cases cracked and broke, and the turret exploded into splinters, sending flaming shards everywhere.

Before Dren could celebrate, the ghoul was atop him. The creature had snuck up behind him during the scuffle and smashed him to the floor.

“Feast!” the ghoul screamed as it tried to bite Dren’s exposed throat.

Dren’s Autogauntlet was able to activate first and he grabbed the creature’s jaw, preventing it from closing around him. The cannons couldn’t do anything at this range and Dren was forced to wrestle with the beast. It was quite strong and though its stats appeared in front of Dren, he was too busy grappling to read them.

“Crossbow, activate!” Dren shouted as he trapped the monster’s leg and rolled over, getting atop the beast.

The Floating Crossbow attached to his back immediately dismounted and flew into the air, its jets humming. The long metal crossbow took aim as Dren punched the monster with his good hand, stunning it for a second.

Dren rolled off the ghoul and the crossbow fired, shooting a bolt straight into its chest. The creature roared in pain and the words 7 damage popped up.

Dren clambered to his feet and pulled out his Junk Gun. The ghoul crawled away on all fours, avoiding the attack just as Dren fired. The bolts spread out and embedded into the shattered metal ground, and the ghoul leapt behind the desk, vanishing from sight.

“Come on!” Dren shouted, reloading his weapon. The crossbow circled in the air, searching for a target to acquire but the supernatural darkness impeded its ability to find one.

Dren raised his gun up high and aimed it towards the desk. “Get out here, you coward!”

“Not a coward,” the gravelly voice said. “Just a survivor.”

There was a shifting above Dren and he looked up just in time to see the monster leaping towards him from the ceiling. Dren fell onto his back and let loose, all three bolts shooting upwards in an instant. The bolts crashed into the sailing ghoul, killing it instantly. The corpse landed atop Dren and jerked for a moment, then ceased moving entirely.

Dren shoved the corpse off of him and gasped for air. The adrenaline subsided as he climbed to his feet and dusted himself off.

Combat Encounter Won! 750 XP Gained! appeared in Dren’s vision as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

“Well, that was one hell of a greeting party,” Dren said to himself as he approached the question mark on his map leading him to the desk.

The piece of furniture was long and decrepit, made of iron that had rusted over the years. On the other side Dren could see a myriad of controls though they didn’t make much sense to him. There were buttons, most of them broken, pried out or smashed in. A small silver switch was sitting in the center of the console, looking no worse for wear.

With a shrug, Dren flipped the switch and heard a click on the western side of the room, followed by the sound of a door opening.

Anomaly Cleared! 250 XP Gained! appeared in his vision as he looked down the western corridor. In the distance he could see dim lights.

There was still one more anomaly in the area and so Dren began to search. As he wandered the broken desks and shattered flooring, a blue hue washed around one of the walls. His search skills must have picked something up.

Dren used his Autogauntlet to feel around the edges of the wall, finding that there was space in between the paneling. With the pry tool built into his glove, he opened it up to find a strange black lantern. It hung in the center of the wall and Dren’s own lantern flickered from being in such close proximity.

“What are you?” Dren asked himself. His identify skill activated to quickly tell him what he was looking at.

Everdark Lantern

Description: This device emits darkness that smothers other light sources.

Value: 100 DriftCoins

Dren examined the device and looked at the center, where black smog was billowing out of it. This was the reason it was so hard to see in here. Perhaps a reduction would reveal something useful about it.

With intense focus, Dren entered the meditative state necessary to break the lantern down. Energy washed around his hands as he focused and within minutes, the lantern had been converted into a series of cubes.

Reduction Success!

10 Darkness Cubes

25 Red Steel Cubes

2 Dark Crystal Shards

The components fell into his hands. The cubes were made of different elemental and physical properties but the shards were nothing like he had ever seen before. They were long crystal pieces that pulsed with dark magic.

“And what are you?” he asked quietly, holding the shard up to the light that had returned to the area. The lantern on his hand was now working properly and the darkness retreated from him, allowing him to see there were three doors in the room, to the north, east and west, though only the western one was open.

The shard did not reply, obviously, so Dren shrugged and placed it in his backpack for later. The Red Steel cubes were interesting too, another Drift City resource perhaps? He would have to see what he could do with these things once he had his workshop up and running.

Chapter 9

Anomaly Cleared! 250 XP Gained!

Zone 1 Cleared! 500 XP Gained! appeared in Dren’s vision as he made his way to the western door. His lantern was working normally now and cast light down a long hallway.

Before he could walk through, his eyes spotted a red aura on the ground, circling around the entrance. A trap of some sort. Dren knelt down onto the ground and inspected the flooring. The ground in this hallway was made of smooth steel that was undamaged. Running his hand along the floor, he could find no panel or any other such thing that would reveal the nature of the trap. He wondered if the floor panel was rigged or if it was the entire hallway.

Dren pulled out of his Skitterbots and placed them on the ground. “Run through,” he ordered.

The device immediately rushed forward, skittering quickly through the hallway. As soon as it crossed the middle point, there was a loud shunk! A long blade came crashing down in front of Dren, indicating that the trap sensed movement and was not based on weight.

The Skitterbots pressed on and in doing so, triggered several more long blades to come swooshing down. They immediately retracted upwards into the ceiling, meaning that one would have to be quite fast and small to make it across safely.

“Maybe it’s floor activated,” Dren said to himself. He sent his second bot to crawl across the walls. Nothing happened this time as it made its way down the hallway.

“Aha!” Dren pressed his arms against the interior of the walls and sallied up, shoving his boots hard against both sides of the hallway. As expected, the traps did not trigger. He angled his Autograpple Backpack towards the end of the hall and activated it, sending a long grappling spike into the door frame on the opposite side.

The line went taut and Dren was able to slide across the walls, keeping his hands and legs firmly against the sides, avoiding the ground at all costs. The momentum from being pulled allowed him to leap off the wall and into the open room.

Zone 3 Discovered!

Dren turned around to look down the hallway and noticed that there was a lever on the side of the wall. He reached out and pulled on it. This caused the hallway to emit a loud clack! A simple test of sending the Skitterbots back through revealed that he had disabled the trap. That would be good in case he needed to turn tail and run.

Trap Disabled! 150 XP Gained! appeared in his vision as he raised his lantern and turned around. This room was rather small and had a cage in the corner. A man sat in that cage, his arm shackled to one of the bars.

“Who are you?” Dren asked, raising the light up high to inspect the stranger. He was a middle-aged fellow, dressed in a simple green tunic with blue trousers.

“Need water,” the man groaned. “Help.”

There was nothing else in the room save for a smashed crate that had been looted ages ago. Dren neared the cage and offered a flask to the prisoner. He slipped it between the bars and the man grabbed it eagerly, drinking all of it down in one go.

“Thank you!” the man said, life returning to him. He was brown haired, not terribly muscular and with a gauntness to his eyes.

“What happened?” Dren asked as he examined the lock on the cage. There was a large keyhole in the center and he wondered if he could pick it open. He had a Mechanics skill of B and his gauntlet had a lockpick set. If he broke the lock he could probably just blast the door open with his Hand Cannon.

“The Lady, she came and attacked my adventuring party,” the man said. “Slaughtered them all but decided to keep me as her thrall. When I resisted her hypnosis…she brought me here and chained me up. Comes in every now and then with some food and water but not enough to get by.”

“The Lady?” Dren asked as he switched his middle finger to the lockpick and began to rake the inside of the lock. This wasn’t a very complex design and he could feel the pick easily push the pins into place, one at a time.

“A vam—” he started to say only for his eyes to go wide. “She’s here!”

Dren spun around to find a blonde woman wearing an elegant black dress, complete with a black cloak and a veil over her eyes. He hadn’t heard her sneak in. She walked each step as if she were gliding on the earth itself, making no noise as she approached.

“Well, well, well,” the woman said. “It would seem we have a meal today. How delicious!”

Dren’s Autocannons popped out but she was impossibly fast. In an instant, Dren found himself slammed hard against the bars, the woman seizing both of his arms. His Autogauntlet was strong but, somehow, she was even stronger. The woman smelled of lilac and vanilla, an intoxicating perfume that caused Dren to soon cease struggling.

“There you go, relax…” the woman purred. She opened her mouth, revealing a pair of fangs that jutted out from her normal teeth. Dren felt a strange hypnosis fall over him and he went limp as she clamped her fangs around his neck.

You are being Drained! his vision informed him, yet Dren didn’t care. He was unable to move or react to this creature’s presence.

“Fight it!” the man shouted. “Wake up! Come on man, wake up!”

The words echoed in Dren’s head as his HP began to tick down. 1 point dropped, then another and another. The woman pulled her mouth free of him after dropping him to 12 HP.

“Delicious! You have a high level!” she said. “No reason to waste a good body. Follow me.”

“Resist it! You’re being hypnotized!” the man shouted, desperation in his voice. Dren didn’t think or respond, he merely shuffled after the woman.

“It’s rare to find someone so high level on the first floor,” the woman said as he walked after her. “You are going to make for excellent cattle.”

Dren said nothing. His mind was completely controlled by the domination of the vampire and he simply followed her into the first zone again. She led him to the eastern passage and opened up the door, revealing a room with more cages in them, all of them empty.

“Climb in,” she ordered, pointing to one of the cages. There was a corpse laying in this cage, a woman with eyes wide in terror. Dren complied, though something inside of him stirred. The sight of the body caused something in his mind to begin realizing something was off.

The woman slammed the cage behind him and the lock clicked itself. She pressed her arms against the cage and laughed. “Good boy. Now you wait for me to drain you. Make no attempts to escape. And take your weapons off.”

Again, Dren complied, and handed her his Junk Gun and Wand Gun. Something in his mind was rousing and he resisted the urge to take off his pauldrons, though he had to give up his Hand Cannon as well. She took them and left without a word, slamming the door shut behind her.

Time passed as Dren stared blankly ahead. Slowly, the hypnosis wore off and his senses returned to him. “Gah!” he shouted, grabbing his neck where two pinholes were located. “What in the hell was that?”

“Vampire,” a weak voice said. Dren glanced up to see in the corner was a cage in shadows. He had not noticed it at first, but could now make out an old man in the cage, his arms shackled to each side of the metal bars.

“Vampire?” Dren repeated. “I’ve heard of them but…I always thought they were a myth.”

“Oh, they’d like to keep it that way,” the old man said. “I’m Orlin.”

“Dren, I’ve been looking for you!” Dren replied. He immediately began to examine the metal bars. They looked brittle and weak. He reached out to grab one with his gauntlet but found himself hesitating.

“The hypnosis will stop you from trying to leave,” Orlin explained. “Her power is great, The Lady. She got the drop on me and found out I was a mage. I’ve tried to escape a dozen times but she simply hypnotizes me and drains me.”

Dren pushed against his mental block with all his might but his hand would not obey. “She took my weapons but…”

He found that he could not command his Cannon Friends to activate either. “Gah!” he gasped. “Something in my head…it’s controlling me.”

“That would be the hypnosis,” Orlin replied. “No way around it, not without a feat or something.”

“There has to be a way,” Dren said, not giving up.

Despite his words, he soon found that there was nothing he could do to break free of the effect.

“You could always try to overcome it with meditation,” Orlin said. “But you’d need to be a spellcaster class. Without my hands, I’m not much good.”

“I’m a caster,” Dren said. He sat on the ground and closed his eyes. “I just need to…” He focused himself and tried to find his center. The dark energies of the vampire’s mind cluttered his own and he found himself struggling to focus.

He couldn’t take combat actions or try to pry himself free from the cage but what about reduction? Dren placed both hands on the ground, which was part of the metal cage, and continued to focus. His thoughts turned to artifice equations and meditations upon the nature of metal. This seemed to circumvent the block preventing him from trying to escape.

A cage was a big heavy thing and Dren took an hour of hard focus to break it all down. Once the hour mark passed though, he heard the sound of metal blocks crumbling as the cage turned into iron cubes all around him.

“Aha!” Dren said, climbing up to his feet. The compulsion to remain put faded. “Can’t stay in the cage if there is no cage.”

“You did it!” Orlin gasped. “I’ve never seen anyone do something like that. You…you turned the metal into raw materials?”

Dren nodded as he approached the man’s cage and began picking the lock. He kept glancing behind himself this time, hoping against hope that she would not be back. No one entered and he hurriedly got the lock open.

The door swung open and Dren hurried up to Orlin’s side. The older man was ragged and weary, his green robes tattered and torn. He quickly broke the shackles with his Autogauntlet, the brittle metal chains no match for his superior strength.

Orlin rubbed his wrists after being freed. “The Lady might sense us escaping. Quick, we have to go.”

“What do we do if she catches us?” Dren asked.

“Split up and hope she chases the other one!” the mage replied.

Chapter 10

The two managed to escape the tower without being caught. The vampire was nowhere to be seen and Dren felt relief upon walking out into the busy street. Despite the fact that it was after midnight, the city didn’t seem to be asleep. The lights of the Grey District were glowing brightly and it was almost like daytime in Dren’s eyes.

“Well, that was one hell of an escape!” Orlin said, clapping his hands. The elder mage sighed and rubbed his neck. “I lost a lot of hit points over the weeks.”

“I was hired by the Guild you work for to retrieve you,” Dren said. “I’d feel better if I could escort you back.”

“Sounds like a plan,” the old man said. They quickly walked through the crowds, both of them glancing back every now and then, worried that there may be some monster still following them.

Dren was sore that he had lost his weapons but was grateful to get out with his life. He still had his Cannon Friends, so he wasn’t completely unarmed. But without access to his normal workshop, it would be a while until he would be able to get new weapons. Then again, he was being paid for the adventure and he had brought two thousand gold with him. That would be enough for him to go shopping and get some proper adventuring gear—including something to thwart a vampire.

He felt guilty about the other man they had left behind. The fellow was designated to be cattle as well, to be drained over and over again for the rest of his life. It was a fate that Dren had almost fallen prey to, if not for his artifice abilities.

“I must ask,” Orlin said as they took the long walk back to the Emerald District. “That power you have. It’s not traditional magic, as I sensed no spells being cast. What exactly are you?”

Dren grimaced. He would rather not talk about artifice with a mage. “It’s just a class ability.”

“Yes, but what class?” he pried.

Dren sighed. There was no getting around this. “Artificer,” he said.

This caused Orlin to burst out laughing. He paused when he realized that Dren was not joking. “Oh my goodness, you aren’t joking are you?”

“Afraid not,” Dren said. “I have the power to reduce things to their basic elements and to build magical constructs through artifice.”

“I always heard it was a quack science, some kind of fake magic that conmen use to sell devices that promise the world but break when used, often in a moment of great peril.”

“That’s probably true, that some people are lying about how it works, but I met a man who bequeathed a great power to me,” Dren said. “And ever since then, I’ve used artifice to improve my life and to help my village.”

“Well, even though I may be skeptic, there’s no getting around what I saw,” Orlin said. “I believe you’re the real deal.”

“Thank you,” Dren replied.

They walked together back to the Emerald District and Orlin let out a sigh of relief as they made it across. “Ahhh, I never thought I’d see home again.”

They reached the Synchronicity Guild’s tower and Dren couldn’t hold the yawn he had been holding inside. “You must be exhausted my lad,” Orlin said. “You won’t be able to collect your reward for another few hours, so please, come back to my apartment and rest. I have something I wish to give you as well. Something that will undoubtedly be of aid in your adventures.”

“I’m already being paid for the quest,” Dren protested.

“Nonsense, an adventurer is only as good as his gear, I always say,” Orlin replied. “And besides, there is a private matter that I wish to discuss. Something not meant for the outside world to hear. You never know who is listening in the city and these streets are full of spies and rogues who would like nothing more than to report back to our rival guilds.”

Dren was weary and decided to take the man up on the offer. They entered the tower and took the elevator up to the 8th floor. This floor was wide open, with plenty of doors without windows on them. They had apartment numbers and small mailboxes outside of each area. Some of the apartments had welcome mats while others bore signs that warned people not to bother them.

Orlin’s apartment was spacious. There was a living room, kitchen and two bedrooms, one of which was assigned to Dren. Inside was a dresser, a writing desk and a window that looked out on the city. Dren gazed out the window and took in the vastness of Drift City for a few minutes, before his exhaustion overtook him. He undressed, threw himself in the plush bed and passed out almost instantly.

The next morning, Dren woke up to the smell of fresh coffee brewing. He blinked a few times, looking out the window to get a read on what time it was. Indeed, he had nearly slept a full twenty four hours but his health was back to normal. The draining effect from the vampire had faded and he was feeling much better.

After he dressed in his regular clothes, deciding to wear his armor only if he went out, he wandered into the living room where Orlin was sitting, reading a huge book that must have had thousands of pages. On the coffee table were a large pot and a mug made of ceramics.

“Oh good, you’re awake!” Orlin said. “I would have worried about you, had I not woken up an hour ago myself. Something about being in that dungeon really takes the vigor from you, yes?”

In addition to the coffee pot were eggs, bacon and some squares of cheese. Dren looked at them for a moment and then up at Orlin, not wanting to be rude by eating without permission. Orlin nodded and swept a hand towards the food, closing his book. “Please, eat. I’ve already had my fill.”

Dren tried to have dignity in eating but he was starving. He sat and grabbed a few hard-boiled eggs, and shoveled them into his mouth quite quickly. Orlin laughed. “The food isn’t going anywhere, my friend.”

Dren didn’t reply, he merely ate and helped himself to the coffee. He took a sip and glanced down at the black brew. “This tastes nothing like coffee!” he exclaimed, drinking down half of the warm beverage.

“Oh, you will find that is how coffee is supposed to taste. I don’t know what you folks drink out in the boonies but here Drift City imports the finest beans from the far southern region, the Planes of Agara where hundreds of fields bloom with the best ingredients. There’s some vanilla and milk in it as well. Adds flavor and reduces the bitterness of the bean,” Orlin replied, pouring himself a cup.

“So then,” Dren said. “What is it that you wanted to talk to me about?”

“Well Mr. Dren, I had good reason to enter into the Abandoned Spire,” Orlin said after drinking another glug and setting his mug down. “Within lies something that will allow the Synchronicity Guild to return to its prominence. Now, if you ask a Guild rep, we are the foremost mages guild in the city, with popularity and prestige, but the reality is well…less than ideal. There are 12 mages guilds here and we are almost dead last, though no one will ever outpace the mediocrity of the Mystics Association, those lazy bastards. No, our guild has seen better days and there’s a reason for it. Headhunters.”

Dren looked up. “Someone’s taking the heads of your members?” he asked.

“No, what?” Orlin laughed. “A headhunter is a man with a suit who comes to your residence with a briefcase full of bribes and goodies, offering higher pay and rank if you come over to a different guild. Many of our top wizards have left for the Geoarcana Guild, a powerful organization that practices Geomancy. In fact, just last month we lost our top guilder, Harry Crowns, to these headhunters. Our guild has weak leadership and our magic is…well, it’s less than ideal.”

“What exactly does your guild do?” Dren asked.

“Good question! We here use Chronomancy, the control of time itself. With it, we are able to synchronize all of the clocks in the city, investigate the past by conjuring images of what happened—this allows us to solve murders easily enough—and reversing injuries. Our magical abilities are highly dependent on our resources, and well…”

“Your resources are less than ideal?” Dren asked.

Orlin chuckled. “Indeed, well put. You see, the high ranking mages are leaving and taking their libraries with them. Most of our magical abilities are not learned from leveling up, as our guild doesn’t adventure much. We gain our power through study of spells and books that are available in our great library.

“The trouble is the books within are growing thinner and thinner as people leave. And well, we have lost our power to perform psychometry.”

“That’s a ten gold dollar word,” Dren said. “Forgive me but I don’t know much about mage magic. Just artifice and even then…most of it is a mystery.”

“Psychometry is what pays our bills. With the right Psychometric Spell, we are able to place a hand upon an object and project images of the past of that item. To say it is useful would be an understatement. We work as Finders and Investigators, solving things that the city authority would like to have figured out quickly. Suppose there was a murder, some chap is done in by a plank of wood. The city is massive and the person flees into the Grey District or worse, hides in the Underground Apartments, away from the world. How then would you find the killer and bring him to justice?”

Dren perked up at these words. “You’d have a mage use psychometry on the murder weapon.”

“Exactly! Now, the best wizards are only able to produce upwards to a minute of the actual event but that is usually enough to get an ID. The Diviner’s Guild can’t find someone based on vague questions but an image? With a sketch artist present, we are able to capture the likeness of the killer and even hear audio of the events, sometimes allowing us to perceive the motive of the murder. The city takes the evidence to the Diviners and boom!”

“The killer is located with magic and captured by the city,” Dren said. This was…perfect! The weapon he kept in his inventory, that terrible rod, could receive the benefits of psychometry.

“Harry Crowns was our chief psychometrist and well, he’s gone. Along with all of his books on the subject,” Orlin said. “Which led me to take matters into my own hands. I’m a researcher, my job is to find the books that someone is looking for. No matter how vague the question, I pride myself in being able to find something that will undoubtedly aid the mage in their quest for spells.”

“So you were looking for something in the Abandoned Spire that would help?”

“Yes. After Crowns left, I was given a promotion to Senior Researcher and given keys to the library. What I found was shocking to say the least. All of our resources on the subject, all the books, the scrolls, even the pendants that gave novices the ability to experience the spells, were gone. Crowns had the authority to take what he claimed as his but…but it seems to me that the Geomancers want the power for themselves. They’re making a play for our status in the city and if they get the contract next year, we are screwed. The central administration spends a lot of coin on us and if we can’t as much as conjure a sound of a murder…well, we’re down to working with civilians and the problem remains the same. The situation therein is…less than ideal.”

Dren nodded. “What led you to the spire?”

“Records. In our records room, I was able to find that the Synchronicity Guild, forty years back, maintained an office in the Grey District, having purchased an entire floor in what was known as the Combine Office. There are entrepreneurs who spend a great deal of coin to build towers and then sell or rent the real estate to other guilds. With the Grey District being the number one source of murders and theft, our guild had decided to put a central office for both processing and training. The poor folks were more than happy to get jobs working as clerks and mail room workers, occasionally rising up to become an actual mage. According to my record searching, we trained people in psychometry first, as that was our primary need at the time. Most mages, you will find, become very dug into their field of research and Chronomancy has many facets. It’s easier to take a scrub, some hapless fellow who just needs a job, and train them in a new magical art than it is to convince even a Level 2 wizard to add a new field to their work.”

“But there was some kind of accident that took the place out of commission,” Dren said. “Leaving the records and books there inaccessible, yes?”

“No accident, my friend,” Orlin said darkly. “Indeed, the people say it was but the truth is, one of the rival guilds of the four that were present in the building sabotaged an experiment. The Pyromancer’s Guild accidentally opened up a portal to a strange world and was working to close it. Someone snuck in and broke the seals. Monsters escaped and overwhelmed the people working there, leading to explosions, destruction and rapid evacuation.”

Dren was fascinated by this tale. A portal to another world? And monsters were getting out? He wondered if the portal was still open and if it was, how many creatures emerged each day.

“The area was warded, of course, but the damage was done. Few expeditions were undertaken to explore the place and many came back dead or worse, injured and demanding higher payment. The Combine Office was dubbed the Abandoned Spire and now only adventurers enter. Adventurers and vampires, I suppose.”

“What possessed you to even try to go in?” Dren asked. “You must have known it was dangerous.”

“The desire to save my guild from a fate worse than destruction: the loss of a city contract. I tried to get a team together, to get the board to give me a budget for the expedition but they are all too eager to look after their own interests. I don’t make the kind of DriftCoin to hire my own people and so I decided to try and just sneak in and find one of the books. Or a scroll or a pendant,” Orlin sadly replied. “I knew it was foolish at the time but I figured…well, I figured I could just use invisibility spells to stay out of the way of any monster. Little did I know there was a vampire there.”

He sighed heavily and lowered his head. “It is embarrassing, but I was caught on the first floor. I found a man in a cage and the next thing I knew, I was being fed upon each day. I had a few tricks up my sleeve to beat the hypnosis at first, but once my hands were shackled, there was nary a thing I could do. But you! Dren, you are a seasoned adventurer, Level 8 and with that artifice stuff, you most certainly will be able to handle your own.”

Dren nodded. “It might actually serve me to get a hold of some of those magical books for you,” he said. He was quick to tell the tale of the murder of his dear friend and partner Arthur Twisp. Orlin listened to the tale and nodded.

“Indeed, psychometry could help with it. I say could because well, magical items are the one thing we can’t read. But this artifice is a mystery to me. I would be more than happy to commission some people to work on it for you. And if not, well, I am a Senior Researcher, I have access to all the records you could need to find who purchased the Blue Nickel. I’d be happy to do it if you are able to aid me.”

“Then it’s settled,” Dren said, finishing the cup of coffee. “Orlin, I’ll help. For the good of your guild and to find the killer.”

“Cheers! Allow me to send you the quest,” Orlin said. He raised his hands and a quest immediately appeared in front of Dren.

Quest: Field Research

Description: The Synchronicity Guild has an old office located on the third floor of the Abandoned Spire. Gain access to the floor and breach the Records Vault. Within should be the psychometry books that will allow us to regain our prominence. Retrieve as many psychometry resources as possible, books, scrolls and magical items.

XP Bonus: 2,500

Chapter 11

Dren left the Synchronicity Guild with a full plate of work. Orlin was pleased that Dren was sympathetic to his cause and gave him a key to the apartment. “Please, stay as long as you like. Getting a place of your own might seem nice, but there’s all that cleaning and maintaining,” he had said. In addition, he gave Dren his life savings, 300 DriftCoins, to purchase gear for the mission.

After Dren had concluded his business with Orlin, he returned to see the Guild Rep and turn in the quest. This netted him an additional 2,500 XP as well as 300 more DriftCoins. The quest, when completed, was stamped into his book and he saw his progress was one more quest before he gained another City Benefit. This would give him access to a Workshop and so he took another quest that had been offered to him. He was officially an Associate of Rank F with the Synchronicity Guild, which provided him absolutely no benefits other than access to the Guild’s Tavern which was on the second level of the tower. But he was not here to drink.

The quest he grabbed was based more on the cash reward than anything else.

Quest: Artifact Retrieval

Description: The Soren Stone has been stolen from our vaults by a thief who escaped into the Abandoned Spire. Find the Stone and bring it back.

Payout: 500 DriftCoins

XP Bonus: 1,500

If Dren was going to return to the tower, he would need gear and something to protect him from the vampire’s hypnosis. But where to find such items? This question was answered quickly enough: The Lavender District, where the finest of shops were located.

Before Dren made his way there, he headed to a local bank and exchanged his gold for DriftCoins. That had been Orlin’s advice, as few merchants took gold these days. Dren was shocked to find out that the value of his gold was relatively little compared to a DriftCoin. Three gold dollars were worth one coin. This netted him 666 coins, leaving him with a grand total of 966 DriftCoins. He hoped that would be enough to get him at least one weapon and a device to ward off vampires.

The Lavender District was in between the Yellow and the Emerald, and it lacked any of the towers that were so prominent in the city. It was a flatland with hundreds of market stalls set up; shops were far and few in between. He had received a tip from Shelly Mists that there was one shop that dealt with all manner of supernatural threats. It was known as the Slayer’s Store and would cater to Dren’s exact needs.

As Dren walked in the direction of the store, a street hawker shouted at him. “Friend, friend!” he said, standing directly in front of the Artificer. “You seem like a man who has desires! Wishes, even! Come now, look at this.” He dangled a long pendant with a little oil lamp made of brass hanging at the end. “For only 50 DriftCoins, this marvelous wonder can be yours! Rub the lamp and gain three wishes! Three wishes friend, anything in the world.”

Dren scoffed at that. “Anything?” he asked, unable to resist.

“Anything! A home, a great tower, even a bride from far off who marvels at everything you say!” the man replied.

“What about vast riches?” Dren asked.

“Oh yes,” the hawker said. “You can be as rich as a king! As wealthy as a banker!”

“So why don’t you use it and get rich enough to stop hawking on the street?” Dren asked.

The man paused, taken aback. “Well, er, you…you see..” he stammered. Dren chuckled and pushed past him, leaving the man to contemplate an answer for the next skeptic he tried to sell to.

Dren made it to a shop on the corner of Hallock Street, where a large store was waiting for him. It was made of steel, with barred windows and an open door. A sign above read in magical illusory letters ‘Slayer’s Shop.’

Dren entered and took note of all the equipment pieces at once. There were hundreds of weapons resting on tables and hanging from the walls. In one corner was armor of all kinds, placed upon dummies to display how it looked when worn. One corner had all manner of magical amulets and potions. He knew immediately that he had come to the right place.

A grizzled man with a long white beard was sitting behind the shop counter, on a stool; he nodded wordlessly to Dren and made no effort to sell his wares. He merely watched with mild curiosity.

Dren approached the counter. “Good afternoon, sir.”

“Aye,” the man replied.

“I am an adventurer who has recently lost his weaponry. I was hoping that perhaps I would be able to find some tools that would aid me in a dungeon.”

“What’n you hunting?” the man gravely asked. His tone was strong and his words intense, though few.

“Well…erm,” Dren lowered his voice. “I encountered a vampire in a tower. And I fear that it may come back to fight me when I return to complete my quest.”

“Ahhh,” the man said, standing tall. He was a burly fellow whose size was hidden from sitting down. Now that he was up, his broad chest showed that he was probably a retired adventurer, someone with countless battles under his belt. “Vampires are rare in the city. But they do exist. I have known many an unsolved murder reported, drained blood, gashed body, corpse cleaved in two and the innards feasted upon. You will need much to fight one.”

Dren didn’t like the sound of any of that. “Right,” he said. “The foremost thing I’m worried about is—”

“Resisting the hypnosis. I’m guessing the vampire disarmed you with a look and took you as a prize to be fed upon,” the man interrupted. “We have something that can help.” He walked out from behind the counter and led Dren to a small section in the way back, with a glass display.

As Dren gazed, the items appeared in his system.

Weapons

Stake Crossbow

Description: This hand crossbow is modified to hold wooden stakes within them. When the trigger is clicked, the crossbow launches a Stake at Target. Stakes must hit the Vampire’s heart to slay it instantly.

Stats:

Range: 30 Feet

Accuracy: 5

Damage: Lethal

Speed: 1

Targets: 1

Ammunition: Wooden Stakes

Cost: 500 DriftCoins

Sunblade

Description: This shortblade has been infused with sun magic. When a vampire is exposed to the weapon, they are Slowed and when struck, they take damage they cannot regenerate.

Stats:

Range: Melee

Accuracy: 10

Damage: 10

Speed: 5

Targets: 1

Cost: 1,000 Dritcoins

Silver Dagger

Description: A dagger made of pure silver and blessed by a Cleric. Vampire cannot regenerate from damage taken with this weapon.

Stats:

Range: Melee

Accuracy: 5

Damage: 5

Speed: 10

Targets: 1

Cost: 250 DriftCoins

Defense

Holy Trenchcoat

Description: A Trenchcoat lined with holy runes and blessed by various Cleric crafters. Protects from being Drained and provides some light protection.

Stats:

Armor Points: 2

Special: You cannot be Drained while wearing.

Cost: 2,000 DriftCoins

Spectacles of Salience

Description: A pair of glasses that are tinted. All vampiric hypnosis fails on you when worn.

Cost: 1,500 DriftCoins

Warding Holy Symbol

Description: A Holy Symbol that has been infused with magical power. When presented to a vampire, causes the target to cower and flee.

Cost: 500 DriftCoins

Vest of Righteousness

Description: A leather armor vest that prevents claw attacks from striking you. Also grants moderate armor protection.

Stats:

Armor Points: 5

Special: Immune to Claw Attacks.

Cost: 2,000 DriftCoins

Consumables

Vial of Holy Water

Description: When splashed on a vampire, deals damage that cannot be regenerated.

Stats:

Range: 10 feet

Damage: 10

Targets: 2

Cost: 100 DriftCoins

Daylight Orb

Description: An alchemical orb that contains sunshine within it. Throwing it shatters the orb, releasing a flash of daylight that deals significant damage that cannot be regenerated.

Stats:

Range: 50 Feet

Damage: 30

Targets: All within Range

Cost: 500 DriftCoins

Rice Bag

Description: An ordinary bag of rice. When poured on the ground, causes all vampires to compulsively count each grain. If combat actions are taken against them, they will no longer be under the compulsion to keep on counting.

Cost: 25 DriftCoins

Dren grimaced at the prices but marveled at the items. These all seemed like the perfect tools to handle a vampire menace. The only trouble was that he could scarcely afford any of the good stuff. Maybe he could haggle.

“I don’t suppose you could lower the price of these glasses?” Dren asked.

The shopkeeper replied to this by pointing at a sign hanging over the store counter. We do not haggle, barter or trade.

“Ah, of course, my apologies,” Dren said, sheepishly. Maybe he could go and get those wishes and wish for a better price.

Chapter 12

The Abandoned Spire was officially off-limits until Dren could get the money to buy all of the very expensive gear that was necessary for fighting a vampire. This left him in a predicament, as he had no weapons to adventure with. The solution was to purchase a longsword from the Slayer’s Shop, paying 300 coins for the privilege. The blade wasn’t all that bad and as an Artificer he was able to use swords just as easily as he was able to use his artificer gear.

Longsword

Description: A longsword made of Red Steel.

Stats:

Range: Melee

Damage: 7

Accuracy: 5

Speed: 1

Targets: 1

The weapon came with a hilt and Dren fastened it to his belt. It swung a little as he walked but he had to admit that it felt good to have a means to defend himself with again after all this time—though he certainly wouldn’t be using it in the spire. No, he would have to find other quests to solve first. He wished that he had more money to bring with him, but most of his cash was tied up in the Undersuits and those were now a far cry from being sold on the markets.

But rather than fuss about the past, Dren decided that it would be good to take some quests and level up before entering the dungeon once more. The spire was full of danger and while he had done well against the ghoul and the turret, the thought of confronting the vampire again made his skin crawl.

Thankfully it was a big city and there was a lot of work to be found. There was a quest board up in the Yellow District with large scraps of paper pinned to them. Terrance was more than happy to tell Dren where to find it and in less than an hour, he had access to general quests that were interesting, to say the least. He chose a few, based on how long he thought they would take.

Quests

Quest: Dragontooth’s Own

Description: A famous mercenary by the name of Dragontooth lost his favorite weapon, the Knuckles of Might, when adventuring in the Sunken Abyss. He will pay handsomely for anyone to retrieve it.

XP Bonus: 500

Payout: 300 DriftCoins

Quest: Strange Noises

Description: The Vermillion Tavern reports strange sounds coming from underneath the basement. The proprietor, Nicky, requests that an adventurer uncovers the nature and reason of those noises.

XP Bonus: 250

Payout: 250 DriftCoins

Quest: Curse of Stone

Description: A wizard has turned to stone in his own workshop. A note was found requesting that if he is found in a stony state that he be returned to normal. His notes indicate that the cure is in his workshop but all efforts to find it have failed thus far.

XP Bonus: 500

Payout: 500 DriftCoins

These three quests, when combined, would grant him an additional thousand DriftCoins as well as a large amount of experience points. Currently, Dren sat at 4,750 XP which was a little more than halfway to Level 9. Whatever encounters were within these adventures would surely grant him enough points to level up.

The first quest he decided to embark on was Strange Noises. Simply because the quest was local and the Vermilion tavern was only a block away. Dren headed straight there and entered the establishment.

The Vermillion was a fine place, much cleaner and nicer than Al’s. There was a piano on stage in the corner and people were drinking fine wines and cocktails out of glasses that looked quite fancy. The pianist played a soft tune that added a bit of luxury and sophistication to the room. Dren approached the bartender, a young woman with pigtails and a beaming disposition.

“Welcome to the Vermillion,” she said. “What can I getcha?”

“Actually I’m here to help,” Dren said. “I’m looking for Nicky?”

“Here in the flesh,” the woman replied.

“I’m here about the quest,” Dren said. “You said there was some kind of strange noise underneath the basement.”

“It’s a strange voice, something that sounds ethereal,” Nicky said. “I’ve been mostly serving gin and wine ever since I heard it. Sometimes someone will be brave enough to get a cask of ale from the basement but for the most part, we’re staying out of it.”

Dren nodded. “Well, that’s what I’m here to help with.”

Nicky took off a key that was hanging around her neck. “Alright good, here’s the key to the basement. Go investigate, do whatever it takes. Just get rid of that terrible voice.”

“Got it,” Dren said, grabbing the key. He headed downstairs to the basement in the back of the tavern and unlocked the door. As soon as he opened it, a dread chill fell across him. A supernatural wind blew, causing him to shiver.

Dren entered the basement to find nothing out of the ordinary. There were many kegs of beer and casks of wine lined up neatly, forming a small maze. He poked around a bit, looking for any sign of trouble, yet there was nothing but that terrible chill. His breath was visible, puffing out in small clouds as he breathed.

“Where are you?” he muttered. As if sensing this, there came a reply.

“Brooookennnnn,” the voice said, the pitch high and ethereal. There was an echo to it that was otherworldly and he jumped at the sound. Dren had not dealt with ghosts before and had not the slightest clue of what to do with one. They had unfinished business, right? Perhaps all he needed to do was help it move on to the afterlife.

“Hello?” Dren shouted. “Where are you?”

There came no reply. Just another blowing of wind that made him quiver. He searched for a few minutes until he noticed a blue aura around one of the floorboards. His Search skill had picked something up.

Dren walked to the floorboard and examined the plank. It had gaps around it and the air seemed to be blowing from it. With a shrug, he activated the pry tool on his Autogauntlet, converting two fingers into a crowbar, and dug it into the board. It resisted for a second but came up easily enough.

Below was some kind of cavern. Dren could see the rock formations at the bottom and the distance wasn’t too far. The Artificer dug up a few more floorboards, prying them out to make an opening wide enough for him to fall through.

Once he was finished, he took a deep breath and climbed down, hanging from the remaining flooring as he dropped to the ground.

He was inside of some kind of cave. The area was open and rocky, with rough cut walls all around him. Whatever was speaking must be down here.

Dren activated his lantern and raised it to have a better look. The light washed across the area and he could see a massive sarcophagus chained to the back of the cave, hanging from the wall. It was an ornate coffin with runes in a language Dren did not understand or recognize. Etched into the lid of the sarcophagus was a fierce-looking head that was holding up a longsword.

Dren approached, the cold air around him getting worse. There were no entrances or exits within the cave, meaning the wind was supernatural in effect. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he placed a metal hand upon the edge of the lid. With a heft, he pried it open, revealing a hideous ghoulish corpse within.

The corpse was ancient and withered. Silver chains were wrapped around the arms and legs, keeping it in place, and there was a metal pole in the torso. It had shaggy grey hair and as soon as Dren looked at the eyes, they flickered with a silver light.

“Finally!” the ghastly voice said as the mouth moved, the words coming out with a slight delay. “Someone has come.”

“What…I mean…who are you?” Dren asked.

“I was once a great warrior, a fierce fighter who commanded armies. But my men betrayed me and mutinied. They slew me in my sleep but the darkness of the deed brought me back. I was reanimated in the middle of the morning while they sought to bury me. I had my revenge but a few escaped with their lives,” the ghoul said. “Alas, I was afflicted with a horrific visage and words that none understood. When I returned home to my wife, she was terrified and the clerics and paladins came to fight me. I slew many of them but fell to their silver chains.”

“I see. And they buried you down here?” Dren asked. That must have been at least a few hundred or maybe even a thousand years ago. Well before Drift City built its first foundation.

“Indeed. Long have I waited to be freed,” the creature replied. “Break my chains and release me, please!”

“I don’t know if that’s the best idea,” Dren said, taking a tentative step back. What was he to do here? The creature was obviously intelligent but with a story like that, and the undead state, he was unsure if he should be dealing with it as a friendly.

“I cannot be slain,” the ghoul said. “They tried many times. My head grows back. My organs do not exist any longer. I am immortal. But I yearn to be free to walk the land once more and to return to my homeland.”

“What will you do in your homeland?” Dren asked.

“I shall slay those who betrayed me.”

“It has been a long time,” Dren replied. “They are surely all dead. Do you remember a great city above?”

“Nonsense, these were empty fields that they buried me within. Dug deep and made a cavern for me,” he said. “A testament to my fierceness and strength.”

Dren grimaced. There was no way in hell he was going to let this creature out. But what did he know about putting spirits to rest? He would need some more information. The city was huge, surely there were some undead hunting temples that could assist him.

“I’m just going to close this back up, try not to make too much noise, eh?” Dren said as he closed the lid.

“Freeee meeeee!” the monster demanded before the lid slammed shut. Dren headed back up and used his Autograpple Backpack to ascend. He headed straight to the tavern’s main floor and spoke to Nicky.

“So good news, bad news time,” Dren said.

Nicky grimaced and leaned across the counter. “Bad news first.”

“There is a ghoul of some kind living in a cavern beneath your basement,” Dren said.

The woman’s face turned pale. “A ghoul?” she hissed. “Lower your voice, I don’t want customers to hear.”

“The good news is that it’s chained up and can’t do anything. But it’s seemingly immortal. I must seek out a cleric or a temple to figure out how to get rid of the creature.”

The woman nodded, rubbing her temples. “Just my luck. And I thought I was getting a deal on this piece of land. I’m gonna kill that real estate agent. Please don’t tell anyone where it is. If people hear there’s a monster down here, they will undoubtedly stop coming.”

“Well, your staff is safe to retrieve drinks and kegs,” Dren said. This may not have been appropriate but it occurred to him that he might have some bargaining power. “I must admit, the price point for dealing with an undead abomination that is hundreds of years old…well, you’re not offering that much.”

“I’ll double the payout! Just get it done!” Nicky said without hesitation. “I thought it might just be intelligent rats or something. But a ghoul? I’ll pay you five hundred without blinking if it means you get rid of the thing discretely.”

Chapter 13

The Silver District was where the majority of the temples were congregated. Some of these temples inhabited towers while others were free standing buildings. Clerics of all kinds walked the streets, giving out blessings and alms to the beggars who were just about everywhere. There was also a hospital, a massive tower where the infirm gathered to be healed.

Dren had received a tip from a stranger that there was a temple in the Silver District that might be able to help with his problem. The Temple of Holy Fervor was where paladins and clerics who dealt with undead worked around the clock. The city did have an undead population, with zombies and ghouls rising up as unlicensed necromancers raised them only to be killed by their creations. The Underground Apartments was one such place where the undead freely roamed. Sometimes they would find a sewer that would grant them access to the city.

The Temple of Holy Fervor was a magnificent standalone building. It was made of pure silver and had three poles around it, extending almost as high as half a tower’s height. The building had glass doors and windows everywhere, where Dren could see people inside, working, studying and training for combat.

Dren entered in through the main doors, to a foyer where a single man was standing. He was the greeter and wore silver robes that twinkled like starlight. He was elderly and carried a staff at his side, leaning against it in a half-sleep.

“Er, hello,” Dren said, waving to the man. He woke with a start and stood up straight, switching his staff from one hand to the other.

“What?” he gasped. “Ah yes, hello! Welcome to the Holy Fervor. How may I help you, young man?”

“I have an undead problem that needs to be handled discretely,” Dren said. He showed his adventurer card. “I’m an adventurer on a quest.”

The old man nodded as he read the card. “Ah yes, of course, of course. Tell me, what seems to be the problem?”

Dren was quick to explain the details, though leaving out the location of said problem. The old man, Hanas, listened intently. When the Artificer finished, the elderly cleric spoke.

“It seems to me that you will need an unbinding ritual,” he said. He clicked his tongue and whistled. “Unfortunately, you can’t get one without a donation to the church or you could research it yourself. If you had guild rank that is.”

Great, more red tape. Dren sighed. “How much is the donation?”

“For unbinding? Two thousand coins,” he said. “Not cheap by any means but we have many problems with revenants like the one you’re facing. They are powerful and effectively immortal unless one unbinds the soul from the body.”

Dren groaned. That was a king’s ransom in this city. “What are my other options? How do I get guild rank?”

“Associates are free to research anything they please within our libraries. And to become an associate, one must perform a quest,” the old man said. “Part of my job is to help people join so if you’re interested, I have a few quests available.”

A quest to complete a quest. How novel. But what else was Dren to do? He reluctantly agreed and was shown a bevy of quests in one of the rooms, where a large silver quest board was waiting for them.

Quest: Corpse Gang

Description: Myrtog and his group of zombies have holed up the Sunken Abyss. Due to guild contracts we cannot enter dungeons, so they will need to be dealt with. Find and eliminate the wight and his undead spawn.

Payout: 500 DriftCoins

XP Bonus: 2,500

Quest: Dangling Body

Description: An undead was found impaled in the Emerald Distract, stuck to a tree. Someone must have raised it. Eliminate the undead and track down the necromancer who raised it.

Payout: 1,000 DriftCoins

XP Bonus: 3,000

Quest: Tower Ghoul

Description: A ghoul has nestled in a tower in the Grey District and has taken the lives of all who have tried to slay it. Enter the top floor of the tower and dispose of it.

Payout: 250 DriftCoins

XP Bonus: 1,000

Dren read over the quests. For a church they certainly paid well for the work. This wasn’t going to be all bad, especially since the first job involved going to a dungeon where he already had a quest waiting for him. Why not kill two birds with one stone?

“And I just need to do the one?” Dren asked. “And I get associateship with your guild?”

“Indeed. None may enter our libraries without having slain the dead in our name,” Hanas replied. “Did you find something you liked?”

Dren pulled the paper from the wall and nodded. “Yup.”

The old man looked at the quest taken. “Ah! I see you’re going wight hunting. A bit of word to the wise. Wights drain with their touch. Take pains to avoid making contact with them in any way, as they rapidly suck down your essence.”

Dren thanked the man for his advice and headed out. The Sunken Abyss was also in the Grey District, so he made his way there, following his mini-map for guidance.

It took three hours of walking on foot to get to the Grey District. The trip was never dull, as there was so much going on in the city. But what Dren enjoyed the most was the fact that he was totally anonymous. No one paid any mind to him, or his disfiguration. While the town of Arthursberg had warmed up to him over the years, they still pointed and whispered when they got the chance. Here the world was so big that he could easily get lost as just another face in the crowd. He certainly didn’t mind that.

The entrance to the Sunken Abyss wasn’t hard to find. Amongst the decrepit buildings and worn down towers was a large hole with a sign placed beside. Sunken Abyss, keep out! It read. Such warnings didn’t apply to adventuring folk and so Dren approached the hole. There was a long metal chain hanging from the side of the wall, mounted to what appeared to be very sturdy beams. There was only one way down.

Dren took out his lantern and affixed it to his glove, then grabbed the chain and began to shimmy down. The chain was quite long and he traveled for some time until finally, he reached the bottom.

Immediately his goggles registered the location.

Sunken Abyss! 3 Zones Detected!

Zone 1: 2 Anomalies

Zone 2: 1 Anomaly

Zone 3: 1 Anomaly

Dren wondered if perhaps he should clear the entire dungeon. It wasn’t that large and he could use the experience. Besides, there was probably treasure down here.

He raised his lantern to inspect the area. He was in a circular room with three passages. Wind blew through all of them and it was terribly cold. He decided to take the eastern passage and walked forward, his boots squishing against the damp ground. The earth was wet here, wet and muddy.

The passageway he was heading down was rocky and the walls were made of smooth stone. It was unclear whether this was a natural formation or if someone had carved their way through it.

Dren entered into Zone 1 which was a wide area with sewer tunnels in the sides of the walls. Water was pouring slowly from the tunnels and the water went up to Dren’s ankles. His Scuttleboots didn’t mind the liquid, however, and he continued to move at a regular pace. There were two anomalies in the area and the zone was large enough for some exploration.

“Alright, I’m looking for a wight gang and a pair of brass knuckles,” Dren said to himself. Maybe his Skitterbots would be useful here. He deployed two and sent them to scurry off to investigate the other two zones while he handled this one. No reason to be caught by surprise.

As the bots rushed out through the way Dren came in, he turned his attention to the large sewer room. There were two doors standing side by side to the north, as well as a large set of boxes in the center.

Dren went to investigate the boxes but when he was in the dead center of the room, there was a loud click sound. Immediately, a heavy metal grate fell around all doors and water began to stream faster out of the sewer pipes.

“That’s not good,” Dren said as the water began to pool up around his ankles, going higher at a steady pace. He looked around but could not find an exit. His boots worked just fine in the water and so he was able to move at regular speed, scuttling along the ground as he searched.

On the wall, a blue aura caught his attention. He raised his lantern to see that it was a valve. That must be the control to the trap that he had walked himself into. He hurried over and grabbed the valve with both hands. With a heft, he tried to twist it but to no avail.

“Come on…” he said, realizing the damn thing was rusted. The water continued to fill the chamber and it was almost up to his thighs at this point.

He struggled and tried his best but couldn’t get the thing to budge. Perhaps leverage was the answer.

Dren found one of the spokes of the valve and grabbed onto it with his metal hand. He pressed down with all of his might, applying the extra strength from the gauntlet to get it to move. There was a hideous grinding as the valve resisted due to its rusting. Dren didn’t give up, as he pulled he extended himself backwards and started to fall, gripping onto the spoke for dear life. His weight added to the pull but still nothing.

By now, the water was up to his hips. He gasped in agony as he yanked for all he was worth, feeling the straps around his elbow dig deep into his flesh, burning him in the process. But he didn’t give up. He pulled and pulled until, finally, the valve budged. It moved a half inch at first but this freed it to move more and he grabbed with the left hand on the other side and pushed up with it. This did the trick and the valve shrieked as it rotated. There was a loud click and the water stopped flowing at long last.

Trap Disarmed! 150 XP Gained! appeared in Dren’s vision as he stopped pulling, having rotated the valve to its completion. He released both spokes and rubbed his elbow where some blood was dripping. That wasn’t so bad.

A loud splash informed him that this wasn’t over just yet. He turned around quickly, the water having not drained from the room and so his ability to turn was slightly impeded. Raising the lantern high, Dren searched for signs of trouble.

Something was moving in the water. Towards him!

He quickly drew his longsword from its scabbard and his Cannon Friends popped out. His vision was able to catch view of a long skeletal fish moving at a rapid pace. The fish was about six feet long with a snout that was pointed like a blade. It was made of pure stone.

“Crap!” Dren shouted as the fish leapt out of the water and dove towards him, needlenose angled right at him.

His boots were quick to scuttle sideways, allowing him to strafe out of the way, which caused the creature to miss him and land back in the water. Words appeared after he got a quick glimpse of the monster.

Skelemarlin

Stats:

HP: 20

Defense: 5

Speed: 10

Attacks:

Swimming Charge: Gathers speed and leaps out of the water, dealing 15 damage to a target.

Knee-knocker: An underwater attack that targets a person’s knees, damaging them for 5 points and Staggering them.

Water Wave: Sends a wave of water that crashes at high speeds, dealing 10 damage.

Defenses:

Undead Affinity: Immune to all forms of piercing damage.

The creature turned around and began to rush towards him again, leaping out of the water at blinding speeds. Dren was unable to get out of the way this time, as the skelemarlin accounted for a dodge and guessed the direction he was taking. The thing’s long sword nose pierced through his chest armor, breaking the Tinkerer’s Armor instantly. Dren took 5 points of damage, dropping him down to 18 hit points. Armor Shattered, his vision informed him as he reeled back. Blood soaked his torso and he felt dizzy from the speed of that attack.

“No way!” Dren said, looking up. The ceiling was only 8 feet above, enough distance for his Autograpple Backpack. He fired the pack and the grappling hook latched into the top of the dungeon, immediately reeling him up.

Dren’s cannons were having trouble tracing the creature, so he activated the Aim ability. Both cannons immediately found their target, tracking it as it swam in a circle. He was a sitting duck if the creature could jump but he worried that the explosive shots would do little to affect it in the water.

Instead of going on the offensive, Dren held his breath and waited, sword raised high. Maybe he could deflect the thrust as it came and if he was able to pull that off, he’d be safe up here. That said, if the skelemarlin tried to use its Water Wave ability, Dren might just get thrown back down in the water on top of eating the damage…

“Come on,” Dren said, watching as the creature moved around. It was then that he realized something. The beast didn’t know where he was. It was searching for him at a rapid pace, desperate to kill him.

That gave him an idea. He grabbed one of the Steel Cubes from his pouch and threw it down. Immediately the creature leapt out of the murky sewer water to attack. The cannons locked on and fired both at the same time. Twin bursts of explosive energy rocked the beast in midair and it fell into the water, inert and floating to the bottom.

The Artificer waited a few moments but was thankfully greeted with words that confirmed the kill.

Monster Defeated! 650 XP Gained!

Dren let out a sigh of relief and lowered himself back into the water. He looked around for any other signs of a threat but saw none, and so he made his way over to the skelemarlin’s corpse.

“What are you?” he asked, dredging the monster up out of the water. The creature was made out of pure bone and something was glinting out of the ribcage. Dren broke the ribs open and pulled out a small purple pearl that was slightly pulsing in his hands.

Swiftness Gem

Description: A gem that imbues the user with increased speed. Must be worn on a jewelry piece in order to be activated. Swallowing it also provides the speed.

Bonus: +5 Speed

Value: 1,000 DriftCoins

“Well, howdy,” Dren said, looking at the pearl. While the speed bonus was good, he was far more interested in the cash value. A few more treasures like this and he’d be well on his way to being a well-outfitted vampire hunter. He’d just need a place to sell it.

He pocketed the gem and was greeted by another message. Anomaly Cleared! 500 XP Gained! At this rate, he’d be Level 9 in no time.

The water still filled the area but that didn’t stop Dren from investigating the crates. They were floating to the top, bobbing up and down. Whatever was in them wasn’t heavy. The Artificer approached the first crate and opened it up.

Inside were some metal parts, gears and cogs meant for construction. Nothing too interesting. The second crate yielded more of the same. But the smallest crate amongst them held something special. There was a large stack of papers with a silver clip around them. The papers were for construction orders, not terribly exciting, but the silver clip had a value of 200 DriftCoins. Not a bad treasure.

Anomaly Cleared! 200 XP Gained! appeared in his vision. Zone Cleared! 500 XP Gained! So the anomaly consisted in these papers? Dren wondered if they would have any value to anyone in the end, and so he decided to pack them and take them with him just in case. No telling what was being searched for in Drift City.

It was after the excitement of battle and looting that Dren realized the metal grates had retracted as well. There were still the two doors that needed investigating, and so Dren opened the one on the right.

This was a hard task due to the pressure of the water but as soon as the door was free, the water rushed forward. There was no room in front of him; rather it was a large pipe that was angled downwards. The excess water drained into the pipe and vanished who knows where.

Dren opened the other door to find that it was a storage closet and nothing more. There were broken crates lining the shelves and a broom. He was glad he opened the drain door first.

Chapter 14

The search for the wight continued. Dren headed back the way he came and waited in the hub area, wishing that his Skitterbots would return. They did not. This was concerning as they were fast movers and scouts. Had they been destroyed? Captured by something or someone? If they had, he didn’t have the materials to build new bots, which was a real shame.

Dren hadn’t considered that he would have to adventure his way to solve the murder. He had figured that he would ask around, spend some coin and get the answers fast enough to go right back home. But now he was in an impasse. Without the supplies, he couldn’t rebuild his broken armor, his bots if they needed attending or even craft new items. He was effectively stranded. He would need to work carefully to protect his shoulder cannons, lest he be without proper defenses too.

The Artificer decided to keep going in the hopes of retrieving his bots and finding the wight gang. He turned to the north and headed through the open tunnel, walking along carefully.

This tunnel led to a few branching pathways that were just dead ends. As Dren finished investigating the last dead end, he heard a gravelly voice echoing all around him.

“I’m telling you, someone’s here!” the voice said. “That metal snack was a sign someone is scouting the place.”

“Yeah, well, the master isn’t going to be pleased that you left the nest. He likes to keep an eye on us,” another voice said, equally as croaky.

Dren peeked out from the corner and saw two ghouls had walked past his side tunnel. They were undead monstrosities, lanky and pale. They looked like ghouls except for the fact that their legs dragged as they walked and they didn’t seem to be moving very quickly. His scanners registered them immediately.

Danger! Wight Spawn Detected!

Stats:

HP: 10

Defense: 1

Speed: 1

Attacks:

Wight Bite: A vicious bite that drains 5 HP every second.

Defenses:

Undead Affinity: This creature is immune to piercing damage.

Dren looked at the sword in his hand and shook his head. He had no idea that undead were immune to piercing damage. That left only his cannons. If he was quick, he could take them both down at the same time with his Rapid Fire ability, especially since they only had 10HP.

Well, there was no time like the present. Dren leapt out from behind the corner and fired both of his guns. The explosions filled the corridor and overwhelmed the wight spawn. The guns tore them to shreds and he was immediately greeted with information.

Monsters Defeated! 150 XP Gained!

“Okay, so the wight spawns aren’t so strong,” Dren said. As he spoke, there was a blood curdling scream that echoed down the hall.

“My spawn! Someone has slain my spawn!” the voice shrieked, the sound bouncing through all of the dead ends. Dren felt his hairs stand up on the back of his head.

There was a sound of claws against the ground and Dren decided he’d better hide. He leapt back behind the corner of the dead end he had been hiding in before.

A terrible undead creature came running down the passage on all fours, long claws scratching the stone as it ran. The monster had shaggy white hair and looked almost human, if not for the pale skin and rank smell that accompanied it.

Upon reaching the blast zone, the creature stood up and looked around. “Come out!” it cried. “Adventurer, I can smell you! Come out and face me.”

Danger Detected!

Wight

Stats:

HP: 30

Defense: 10

Speed: 10

Attacks:

Greater Wight Bite: Drains 10 HP per second when latched onto you.

Dark Pulse: A wave of negative energy drains Speed and Stuns Target.

Exhausting Aura: Standing within 10 feet of the Wight causes you to lose 5 Speed until you leave.

Defenses:

Undead Affinity: Immune to piercing damage.

Dren grimaced at the sight of the creature’s stats. It was large and strong, with plenty of hitpoints and a drain that would make short work of him—definitely a step up from those weak spawns. How in the hell was he going to fight it?

The beast sniffed the air and moved into one of the dead ends. Dren quickly headed out from his hiding spot and towards the nest the creature had emerged from. The monster was fast and would search the dead ends before heading towards the main hub. It would spend more time looking for him in the other zones, giving him a chance to figure out some kind of plan.

He could hear the wight rant and rave for a time until he turned a corner. This led to a large hollowed out cavern where the nest was located.

The nest was made of bones scattered just about everywhere, piled in ways that was reminiscent of a bird’s nest. Lying in the back was a wight spawn, sleeping quietly. The beast was just as frail as the other two, but Dren did not attack it right away. Instead he kept very silent and made every effort to investigate the area without making a sound. If he killed the creature, the chief wight would notice it and having to deal with that brute was the last thing he wanted.

There were corpses and junk spread around the messy nest as well as a long table made of metal that had a few items upon it. One of which was a gleaming pair of brass knuckles.

Dren carefully stepped up to the table, finding not only the knuckles but also his Skitterbots, shattered and crunched on. He was dismayed to see his cogbots damaged but gladdened that he found one of the quest items. The only question was how was he going to get out of here?

As he examined the table, his vision scanned the knuckles. Therein lay the answer to his question about how he was going to face against the chief wight.

Knuckles of Might

Description: These powerful brass knuckles improve the Strength of the wielder, allowing them to lift up to 100 extra pounds. In addition, they can be used to attack, dealing heavy damage to any target and ignoring all armor.

Stats:

Range: Melee

Accuracy: 10

Damage: 15

Speed: 8

Targets: 2

Damage Type: Bludgeoning

Dragontooth surely wouldn’t mind if Dren borrowed these for an encounter. He slipped them onto both hands and felt a surge of energy wash through him. He felt his muscles begin to bulge and his arms thicken. The gauntlet was unaffected by the magic but still, the spiked golden knuckles would deal damage if used.

Dren pocketed his broken Skitterbots and then prepared an ambush. The best way to kill the creature was to soften it up with his Autocannons, but it was very fast. Rather than attack with the cannons on his shoulders, he decided to mount them to the walls. This was easy enough to do as there were metal pegs studded into the sides of the nest, part of the construction of the dungeon.

The twin cannons were angled towards the center of the room, where the wight would undoubtedly rush into upon the death of its spawn. Dren had to act quickly. He approached the sleeping spawn and ended its existence with his knuckles, punching down with a supreme force that caused it to immediately wither up into a shriveled husk.

There was a hideous scream that echoed all the way to Dren. He scuttled to the middle of the nest and activated his Autograpple Backpack. It hooked to the top of the ceiling and yanked him up.

The creature came charging in a mere minute later, screaming and ranting. “My spawn! You are going to be ripped to shreds! I will suck the marrow from your bones!”

The wight ran into the room to investigate the loss of its creation, moving in perfect range of the cannons. Dren silently activated them both, and the cannons aimed and fired. The wight seemed to sense the danger before it happened and managed to dodge out of the way of the first explosion though it was hit by the second.

The creature’s health dropped down to 20 points after it was struck and Dren disengaged his grapple, landing right behind it. As soon as he was on the ground, Dren punched with both fists as the same time. The wight spun to counter but wasn’t fast enough as Dren’s Autogauntlet had a combat upgrade that let him strike with melee attacks first.

The fists connected and smashed the monster in the back, sending it flying into a pile of bones. Femurs, humeri and vertebrae scattered everywhere while the creature’s health dropped down to 5 points. Dren raised his fists and charged forward.

“Coward!” the creature said, scurrying up the wall. “Attacking from behind is weakness!”

Dren ordered his cannons to fire again but the wight was well aware of them this time around. It ducked out of the way of the explosions as it ran across the ceiling, and dove down towards Dren.

The Artificer had anticipated this and raised his Autogauntlet up to catch the beast. The metal pistons whirred as he snatched it by the throat. The enhanced Strength from the Knuckles of Might made all the difference in the world and Dren slammed it down onto the ground.

The beast howled in defiance but could do nothing as Dren punched with his other hand, smashing it straight in the skull. His left hand was like a hammer and the heavy force of the blow caused the braincase to cave in like a watermelon.

“Gross,” Dren said, pulling his dripping wet hand away and flicking it rapidly to get the juices off. The wight moved its arms and legs a few times before the negative energy left its body. The creature was dead.

Encounter Won! 1,000 XP Gained!

Zone Cleared! 500 XP Gained!

Dren grinned. This was enough XP to level up! He had a grand total of 8,050 now and he was prompted by a new menu. His eyes went wide as he read the words.

Level Up! You are now Level 9!

Mastery Unlocked: At Level 9, you are able to choose a Mastery. This unlocks new Abilities, Feats and Schematics related to your Mastery. Be warned, choosing a Mastery alters your options permanently, closing off old paths and opening up new ones.

Select a Mastery

Artificesmith: This Mastery is for those who spend the majority of their time crafting. Special Artificer Weapons, Armor and Gadgets are unlocked.

Abilities:

Mass Production: You produce 10 Copies of an Invention with the cost of only one.

Sales Expert: The sale value of your Inventions is doubled.

Automatist: This Mastery grants the Artificer greater schematics for cogbots and automatons.

Abilities:

Independent Thinkers: Your Cogbots now act independently and do not need to be ordered in order to act. They anticipate your needs and respond to your thoughts.

Self-Powered: You no longer need to use Energy Cubes to build Automatons or Cogbots.

Thaumaturge: This Mastery expands the magical potential of the Artificer. They are granted the power to cast spells at will, drawing from their Mana Pool in order to execute them.

Abilities:

Spellcaster: You gain access to a Spell List that you can call upon in order to cast spells. Each day you may choose 4 spells to cast at will.

Mana Charge: You gain +10 Mana.

Dren looked at the options with curiosity. He had not expected to be greeted with Mastery options in the least. But all things considered, he was getting pretty high up in level. The different choices were all fascinating in their own right but Dren found his interest drawn to the Thaumaturge. He already had all matter of schematics and inventions from his eight prior levels but they all required copious amounts of materials and time to build. Having access to magic itself, the ability to cast spells…that was something beyond his wildest dreams.

People would never fully understand artifice. But if he could cast spells in front of people, then they would have to take him seriously. And if he was a caster, a true caster, he could use scrolls too. His rank in the Synchronicity Guild would eventually go up enough to allow him to research new spells and get scrolls too. But what kind of spells were they? Surely they were the kind that augmented his abilities and perhaps even improved his inventions.

The other two masteries were remarkable but Dren was already a Cogbot Commander, able to mentally control his bots, and he had plenty of command points that regenerated quickly enough. The smith one was more for those who wanted to spend their time inside of the workshop. Dren had enough time in his Den over the last year, working with Twisp on various mining designs. He had not realized how much he missed being out in the field as an adventurer. The twists and turns were all too fascinating. Not to mention all the treasure and XP he generated.

The matter settled itself in a moment. Dren picked Thaumaturge and watched as new potentialities opened up.

Thaumaturge Selected! You have gained 2 new Abilities!

Level 1 Spell List has been Unlocked! New Feat Branches are available.

Level 1 Thaumaturge Schematics are now available! All previous options are closed.

You Gain 4 Skill Points! You may purchase a new skill or increase a skill by 1 Rank!

Learned Skills:

Artifice: A

Identify: A

Search: A

Appraise: C

Command: A

Control: B

Trapfinding: A

Mechanics: B

Herbalism: C

Researching: C

Butchery: D

Architecture: C

Unlearned Skills:

Meditation: Allows you to regenerate a number of mana points equal to your Rank in 15 minutes.

Focus: Extends the Duration of a Spell by 1 each Rank.

Counterspell: Allows you to attempt a Counter of another Spell. Your Rank determines the likelihood of countering.

Aura Sense: Grants detection of magical auras. Each Rank provides more information.

Siphon: Allows you to drain Mana from Charged Magic Items. Each rank adds more mana.

Dren saw right away that his unlearned skills had changed. They were entirely focused on magic now. The different skills allowed for him to perform different kinds of practices. With four skill points he had a few options. He could always increase the rank of his current skills but the magic ones were too interesting to let alone.

Meditation was a good start. The ability to regenerate MP was always helpful and the time wasn’t too long either, just fifteen minutes. He put two ranks into that and then took one rank of Counterspell and one of Aura Sense. He was then greeted with the Feats list.

You gain 2 Feats! Select from the list below!

Infuser:

Mana Sink: You may store up to 5 Mana into an Invention. At any time, as long as the invention is present, you may draw that Mana out. This may only be done one at a time.

Overclock: You may spend 2 Mana to enhance your Cogbots’ performance for a minute.

Enhance Gear: You may spend 1 Mana to grant a +2 Speed, HP or Defense bonus to an item you have equipped.

Caster:

Rapid Casting: You may cast a spell for 2 Additional Mana as an Instant Action.

Delayed Spell: You may Delay a Spell for up to a minute to activate after casting.

Improved Caster: You may Study 2 additional spells each day.

Mystic:

Resistance: You gain 20 Points of Armor against Fire, Ice, Electric or Dark Magic. Choose which upon selecting this feat.

Energy Reserve: Gain 10 additional Mana Points.

Aura Reader: You gain additional information when detecting a magical aura.

These feats were certainly different. They didn’t augment his crafting abilities but rather unleashed his power as a caster. He was drawn to Energy Reserve to increase his mana pool, Rapid Casting in order to use two spells at once, and Improved Caster, which would ultimately expand his versatility. The other abilities were interesting enough and perhaps he would have to take Enhance Gear on his next level.

He made the selection and was brought down to the Schematics section, which sported brand new categories and options.

You have 2 Schematics! Choose from below!

Level 1 Thaumaturge Schematics

Conjuring: These schematics allow for the Summoning of powerful beings that serve you in various ways.

Binder’s Circle

Description: This metallic circle allows the Artificer to capture an elemental, fairy, demon or spirit, transferring it into a Summon Square. Summon Squares can be used to power inventions, granting bonuses to their function, or they may be used to later Summon the entity to serve you for tasks.

Cost:

100 Red Steel Cubes

25 Blue Nickel Cubes

10 Ethereal Crystal Shards

10 Iron Cubes

Spirit Armor Necklace

Description: This necklace conjures powerful spirit armor that blocks all forms of damage up to 40 points. The armor is reduced each hit.

Cost:

20 Blue Nickel Cubes

5 Dark Crystal Shards

Anti-Spirit Ray

Description: A powerful weapon that deals damage to spirits, ignoring their ethereal state.

Stats:

Range: 50 Feet

Accuracy: 10

Damage: 15

Speed: 3

Targets: 1

Damage Type: Force

Cost:

100 Yellow Band Copper

25 Light Shard Crystals

Wands: A wand is a device that has charges. When utilized, it unleashes a powerful spell.

Wand of Fireball

Description: This wand releases a fireball that deals heavy damage to targets.

Charges: 10

Stats:

Range: 100 Feet

Accuracy: 5

Damage: 20

Speed: 5

Targets: 30 Foot Circle

Damage Type: Fire

Cost:

50 Fire Cubes

25 Magic Cubes

10 Red Steel Cubes

10 Wood Cubes

Ice Skate Wand

Description: This wand grants the user +10 Speed and the ability to skate across solid ground. The skating ignores all terrain and can move across solid water as well.

Charges: 15

Duration: 1 minute

Cost:

25 Ice Cubes

25 Magic Cubes

10 Blue Nickel Cubes

10 Wood Cubes

Forcefield Wand

Description: This wand creates a wall of invisible force that prevents anything from moving through it.

Charges: 5

Range: 20 Feet

Duration: 5 Minutes

Cost:

25 Force Cubes

25 Magic Cubes

10 Green Iron Cubes

10 Wood Cubes

Rings: A ring provides a perpetual bonus or a special power that can be activated at any time. Up to 4 Artifice Rings can be worn at any time.

Vanishing Ring

Description: This ring allows you to vanish from one area and teleport to another within 10 feet, regardless of the distance, though you cannot go through walls.

Charges: 10

Range: 10 Feet

Duration: Instant

Cost:

50 Smoke Cubes

10 Dark Crystal Shards

5 Silver Cubes

Ring of Regeneration

Description: This ring heals you 10 HP every minute.

Cost:

25 Earth Cubes

25 Light Cubes

5 Light Crystal Shards

5 Silver Cubes

Ring of Iron Skin

Description: Wearing this Ring grants you 5 Innate Armor that cannot be damaged.

Cost:

25 Heart Cubes

25 Red Steel Cubes

5 Silver Cubes

Dren finished reading through the section. There was some heavy firepower located in the wand section, namely the Fireball Wand. Such a weapon would allow him to handle a vampire let alone any other threat. Not to mention that the fire damage would be useful against any undead he faced.

For his section choice, he became interested in the Vanishing Ring. The ability to get out of harm’s way instantly would allow him to dodge grapples, avoid ranged attacks and move past traps that were short-ranged.

Once the inventions were selected, he was finally greeted with the spell list. Dren’s eyes went wide when he looked at the options before him.

Level 1 Thaumaturge Spell List.

Select 4 Spells to Study to gain access to them immediately!

Repair Invention

Description: This spell allows for the instantaneous repair of an invention of your own creation.

Mana Cost: 5

Summon Golem

Description: Summons a golem of one type. This golem will serve you for as long as the spell duration lasts.

Iron Golem

Fire Golem

Ice Golem

Electric Golem

Duration: 5 Minutes

Mana Cost: 10

Find Secret Doors

Description: Grants you the ability to see all secret doors in an area.

Duration: 4 Hours

Mana Cost: 2

Spell Bolt

Description: A powerful bolt of Arcane Magic that strikes 2 targets at once.

Damage: 10

Mana Cost: 1

Infuse Weapon

Description: Infuse a weapon with Fire, Electric or Light energy, granting it +5 Damage and converting it to that kind of base damage.

Duration: 1 Minute

Mana Cost: 2

Grease

Description: Creates a field of grease on the floor, causing all standing on it to slip and fall, reducing their Speed by 10. May also be used to coat an item, causing the wielder to be unable to hold it.

Duration: 5 Minutes

Mana Cost: 3

Enhance Item

Description: Target item gains a bonus of +4 to Defense, Speed or HP.

Duration: 8 Hours

Mana Cost: 10

Dispel

Description: A powerful spell that disperses all magical effects of a target. Does not affect magic items.

Duration: 1 minute

Cost: 5 Mana

Speed Boost

Description: Grants you or a target +5 Speed. Also affects your weapons.

Duration: 5 Minutes

Cost: 10 Mana

So these were the spells. A perfect blend of utility and versatility for any dungeon delver. Dren could select 4 but all of these spells were part of his memory now, he could easily choose any spell each day. Since he was still in a dungeon, he decided to pick Infuse Weapon, Speed Boost, Enhance Item and Spell Bolt. He was greeted with a notice from his recently acquired Improved Caster feat that he had two more selections to make. For those he picked Grease and Find Secret Doors.

When he finished with his selection, he was greeted with an updated character sheet. Level 9 was looking quite fine!

Chapter 15

Dren was eager to test his first spell. The magical knowledge coursed through his mind and he felt a general awareness of the magical properties all around him. His gear hummed with a certain frequency and he could see the vague aura of artifice magic on his gauntlet. He had plenty of mana now, 26 to be precise, and so he decided to test out Enhance Item.

The Artificer placed a hand on his gauntlet and focused. The magical formulas came to his mind and he silently transferred the spell. A green aura washed around the metal creation and he infused it with +4 Defense. Instantly, he could feel his body shift and change, the defensive properties bringing his defense up to 11.

His mana dropped down to 16 but that was still plenty to go around. The duration of the Enhance Item was 8 hours, giving him enough time to continue exploring the dungeon. There was one unexplored Zone left and he figured he may as well visit it. The anomalies would grant him plenty of XP and there was always a bonus for clearing an entire dungeon.

Dren headed back through the tunnel leading to the hub and then down the southern passage. He was feeling confident now that he had some arcane abilities to help him out. Any more undead and he could infuse his weapon with fire or use a Spell Bolt to take them down.

This passage was cleaner and more constructed. The tunnel had brick flooring and walls. Torches also lined the sides of the tunnel, flickering with warm light. They had been lit recently, which was concerning. Who would dare to be in a place like this?

As Dren continued along the path, he heard something. It sounded like chanting. A shiver ran down his spine as he had a flashback to the sacrificial offering he had been a part of. The chanting sounded identical.

The Artificer raised his sword and stepped forward, soon reaching the end of the tunnel. He poked his head through to see the room was a very large chamber, complete with two pairs of steps that led up to an elevated platform.

There were braziers scattered around, copper lined holders that burned with great fires within them, illuminating the entire area. Up on the platform were six hooded figures, all wearing blood red robes. The Cult of the Red! They were here!

Dren was about to turn around and leave the place as quickly as he could but he spotted someone in the center of the group. It was a woman in chains. She was pale and slender, bruises upon her face and a gag in her mouth.

“Damn it!” Dren whispered. There was no way he could let the cult sacrifice another victim. Not on his watch.

The Artificer crept towards them, trying to formulate a plan. Standing in front of the five cultists was a leader, a man holding a red staff with a gem atop it. The gem burned eternally with fire and gleamed for all to see.

“Brethren! This woman has resisted our demands far too long. She has not submitted to the Fire Below!” the leader crooned. “And for that crime, she shall be immolated! Sent to him straight away so that she may see that her lack of faith was merely a stumbling block.”

The man’s staff ignited even more and the men around the poor victim began to pour lantern oil at her feet and on her clothes. Dren was unsure what to do. He could strike first, hitting them by surprise, but they were humans. Sure, they were about to murder someone, but he wasn’t the kind who made use of violence when reason could prevail. Perhaps the threat of his presence could get them to stand down. Maybe he could somehow convince them to stop this madness.

“Stop what you’re doing!” Dren declared from the bottom of the stairs on the right. He kept his blade raised high and his spells ready, knowing that this could easily turn into a fight if he didn’t speak rightly.

“Interloper!” the leader shouted, turning around to face Dren. He took in a view of the Artificer and grinned. “A disfigured freak comes here to stop us? You won’t last a second against the Fire Below, you fool.”

“What could this woman have possibly done to deserve death?” Dren asked.

“Ah, she joined us several months ago. But resisted our teachings and especially our sacrifices,” he said. “She defied the Cult of the Red and sought to leave. Such a thing is against our greatest laws. You, friend, are broken in many ways. Come and join us. Leave your life as an adventurer behind and become what you were always meant to be. The flames will make you whole!”

Dren shook his head. “I’m warning you, what you are about to do is murder. You don’t have the right to kill another human being, even if they don’t want to be part of your group. There will be dire consequences if you keep trying.”

The leader laughed at this, prompting the other men to all laugh as well. They drew their own weapons, swords, maces and shorthammers. They all gathered behind their leader. “Come now, half-face, do you really think you can take down six of us?” the leader asked. “There is greater strength in numbers, so just join or leave. Do not interfere with things you do not understand.”

“I understand this all too well,” Dren replied. “You are nothing but bullies who rely on numbers to take those who are weak.”

“Only strength is respected, fool!” the man bellowed. He raised his staff up high and the flames began to course towards Dren. They formed an arc and came crashing towards him. Before they could hit, Dren rushed forward up the stairs. He dodged the flames as they smashed into the floor behind him.

The other cultists rushed forward to the top of the stairs and advanced recklessly. Dren raised a hand and prepared his first offensive spell. The power of magic surged through his left hand as he stretched it out and a thin layer of grease sprayed out onto the top of the stairs where the men were running. They were caught off-guard and began to slip and trip, stumbling and tumbling down the stairs towards Dren.

The Artificer had no mercy as they fell past him. He slashed downward with his sword, striking one hard in the torso and drawing blood. This man wasn’t particularly high level and died instantly, jerking forward and collapsing at the bottom of the stairs.

Dren raced up the stairs, his Scuttleboots easily ignoring the grease conditions. The other men were all at the bottom, injured from the fall and trying to get back up. The leader howled in rage and prepared to cast another spell, a fireball forming at the top of his staff.

“Prepare to meet the power of the Fire Below!” he shouted before he chucked the fireball straight at Dren. Dren was prepared for this and cast Dispel as he charged. A thin beam of silver magic flew out from his fingers and met the fireball in midair, fizzling the spell instantly.

“Seems your magic doesn’t have his power,” Dren taunted. His twin cannons popped out of their resting place and acquired their target, firing two shots of explosive ammunition. The leader tried to get away but was too slow. The shots hit him, dealing 20 damage and dropping his health only to 5.

The men downstairs were busy rushing to the other set of stairs to ascend, though one was hopelessly trying to get up the way he came, stumbling and falling in place many times.

The leader reached out a hand and hurled another spell that sent burning spikes towards Dren, but he countered with another Dispel—the last one he would be able to cast as he was low on mana now. The spell fizzled and Dren closed the distance. He slashed with his sword, striking the man in the core of his chest, dropping him down to the ground.

“No! Fire save me!” the leader groaned as he fell back and released his staff. It fell over and the flame went out, just as the light of life left the cult leader’s body.

“He killed Arlen!” the men shouted. “Run! Run away!”

Courage was not the better part of these cultists and they fled into a sewer pipe, vanishing from sight.

Fight Won! 500 XP Gained! appeared in Dren’s vision as he sheathed his blade. Sweat was pouring down his goggles, prompting him to remove them and wipe the lenses. He did this only for a moment before he approached the woman.

“You…you fought off Alren,” she said, tears running down her face. “I can’t believe it.”

“Let’s get these chains off of you,” Dren replied, finding the lock in the back and breaking it with his metal hand. It took a moment to undo all of the chains but she was soon free.

“I’m Dren, by the way,” he said. The woman grabbed and hugged him tightly, surprising him for a moment. He weakly hugged her back, figuring she needed some comfort after a harrowing experience like this.

“It was nothing like they promised,” the woman whimpered. “They said they would heal the sick and the wounded. But they just tossed them into fire pits and immolated them. It was horrific. The moment I saw it I knew I had to leave. But they wouldn’t let me go. Oh they did such horrible things to me, they burned me, they mocked me and locked me in a cage for all to see.”

“That sounds horrible,” Dren said, still holding her.

“But you saved me! You’re my hero!”

“Oh please, I’m no one’s hero,” Dren replied. “I’m just an adventurer and I help where I can. I swore an oath to the city to rend aid where it was needed.”

The woman looked up at him. “I’m Yvara,” she said. Her fingers ran delicately along Dren’s chest. Those sent shivers of another kind down his spine. “Tell me, hero, is there anything I can do for you?”

At this point, the hug was concluded. Dren pushed Yvara off and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Oh no, no, uh, no, everything’s okay. I’m just glad you’re safe.”

Yvara looked a little red at this but nodded. “Of course, I just wanted to make sure you were taken care of.”

“I have a lovely girlfriend back home,” Dren said.

“Right,” she replied.

“Tell me though, do you know where they meet?” Dren asked. “And what their plans are? I encountered a group of them in the woods and it was terrifying, to say the least. I want to know what it is they are working towards.”

Yvara thought on that for a moment. “They…they have big plans. And I fear that I will say no more on the subject. There are too many consequences for speaking about their operations and while I’m lucky to get out alive, they might come for me if they know I talked.”

“Well, let’s get you out of here.”

“I know a way to the surface. We best split up in case more come after you. They’ve seen your face. No doubt their agents will be hunting for you. Good luck,” Yvara said, scampering off.

Dren shrugged and turned his attention to the corpse of the leader. The staff was at his side, the red gem still gleaming. “No reason to leave you behind,” Dren said and he picked it up and identified it.

Staff of Burning Power

Description: This powerful staff augments a Pyromancer’s spells, allowing them to focus their magic through it, amplifying the damage and reducing mana costs.

Bonus: -5 Mana on all Spells. +5 Damage on all Spells.

Value: 2,000 DriftCoins

There was a strange sense of dread and uneasiness as Dren handled the object. As if something was looking at him. The feeling would not abate and he decided that he would reduce the staff when he got his workshop up and running. He could try and sell it but then someone might ask where it came from and that would be a hard conversation to have. Worse yet, one of the cult members might see it and inquire as to who sold it. Then Dren would be tracked down…if he wasn’t going to be hunted already.

Chapter 16

Zone Cleared! 500 XP Gained! Dungeon Cleared! 1,500 XP Gained! appeared in Dren’s vision as he made his way out of the dungeon. Already he was at 2,500 XP, well on his way to Level 10. As he climbed out of the hole that was the Sunken Abyss, he was greeted with more words.

Citizen Saved! 250 XP Gained! You’ve gained 1 City Benefit Point!

Dren let out a sigh of relief upon seeing this. It would seem that his good deed had a reward attached to it. He quickly selected the Workshop benefit and his map changed to reveal that his new atelier was located in the Burgundy District, where many crafters worked. Now he had a base of operations. Everything was going to get easier after this.

The Artificer hurried through the Grey District, making his way to his workshop. The Burgundy was rich with color and lights. Men and women were carrying large crates or dragging them on carts, occasionally with a donkey or horse leading them. Open forges were everywhere, blacksmiths tinking away at their various projects. The air was full of fire and industry.

Dren found his workshop on the fourth level of a tower. It was an impressive building, stretching way up into the heavens, square and formidable. There were many other workshops in the building, mostly mages who were busy crafting all manner of magical items. It was good to be in their company and Dren wondered if he would be meeting any of his neighbors.

The workshop itself was perfect. The magic that had created it was more than just assigning space. The city magic itself had conjured tables, metal saws, pikes and even hand torches that were ideal for welding. Though people did not understand artifice, it was as if the workshop here did.

“Dren’s Den 2,” he muttered to himself as he sat down at one of the workshop tables. He placed the staff in front of him and laid it out on the table. “Now let’s see what is inside of you…”

He entered the meditative state that allowed him to break down items and he pondered the nature of the staff for a while. Time flowed quickly around him but in reality it was nearly an hour of focus. As he began to break it down, there came a dark presence to his mind.

“You again,” a terrible snarling wind muttered in his head. “What are you doing with one of my blessed staves?”

“Go away,” Dren mentally commanded, his focus waning as the dark presence tried to interfere. There was powerful resistance coming from the gem, as if it didn’t want to be broken down.

“You are that half-faced man who was denied sacrifice,” the voice continued. “How dare you? How dare you snuff the life of my followers?”

“Didn’t you say that weakness could not be tolerated?” Dren replied mentally. He pushed past the voice’s resistance and began to break down the gem, focusing with all of his might. The meditate skill seemed to help here and he was able to recenter himself quickly.

“You are a fool to resist my power!” the voice said, breaking up as Dren forced the gem to yield. There was a burning pain in his head and he felt his mind resist some great force. In an instant, the entire staff broke down into cubes…and shards!

Reduction Success! You have gained:

100 Fire Cubes

50 Magic Cubes

20 Dark Crystal Shards

20 Wood Cubes

5 Red Steel Cubes

Dren let out a deep sigh as the real world came back to him. He now had a splitting headache and he felt a sense of alarm wash over him. That dark presence seemed to be directly in his home and perhaps now they knew where he was. No, no that would be improbable. The thing seemed confused as to how Dren was breaking down one of its items. And he forced it away before it could inquire any further.

What was this cult of the red that was present within the city? Yvara was too scared to tell any details, wanting to give nothing away for fear of retribution. They were luring people in with promises of healing but were sacrificing those who were deemed too weak. Surely this Fire Below was not a god but some kind of demon lord, or dark energy that was feeding off of the sacrifices. But how present were they in Drift City? Did they only have a small following? Or were there countless numbers, waiting to take the place over, one convert at a time?

Dren did not know. What was his responsibility in this mess? That he also didn’t know. All he could do was just continue on his own journey and find the man who had murdered Arthur Twisp. That was what he came to this city to do, not fight some mysterious cult.

After reducing the staff, Dren checked his inventory to see what he had available. He had brought some materials with him and before he visited his workshop he retrieved all of the cubes he had stored in the Walking Bug.

Inventory:

1,000 Copper Cubes

500 Iron Cubes

500 Energy Cubes

250 Silver Cubes

170 Wood Cubes

10 Darkness Cubes

30 Red Steel Cubes

22 Dark Crystal Shards

100 Fire Cubes

50 Magic Cubes

Dren had two new Schematics to work from, but he didn’t have the materials needed for the Vanishing Ring. He checked the requirements for the Wand Fireball…

Cost:

50 Fire Cubes

25 Magic Cubes

10 Red Steel Cubes

10 Wood Cubes

With the dissolution of the staff, he now had enough cubes to make the wand. This was exciting as he had never built a wand before. The methodology was more or less the same as building any item. First, he merged the cubes together, then he whittled them down into a long stick. With the sandpaper available from the workshop, he smoothed it out until it was nice to hold, though he left a bit of roughness on the handle so that it could be gripped more easily in the heat of combat.

After that, he fused the Fire and Magic Cubes. Once those were bonded, he studded the base of the wand with four thick gems that gleamed with perpetual magic. The Red Steel went into the handle and the tip, giving the wand a polished look. A bit of magical infusion, and a spark of power combined together, gave the wand life. Some focus added the 10 charges to the device.

“There we go!” he proudly said, raising the wand up to the light.

The magical device looked formidable and he was pleased with its production. It felt good to be back in the crafting saddle and he hoped that as he continued to explore the city and its dungeons that he would find more interesting materials to use.

When he was finished with the wand, he took a magnifying glass and began to examine the Dark Crystal Shards. They were interesting, to say the least. They were slender and jagged, with a dark pulse of magic emanating every few minutes. He was familiar with cubes but shards were new to him. Did they function similarly to cubes, just to be used for crafting? Or did they hide some other purpose?

As he examined the shard up close, words appeared before him.

Dark Crystal Shard

Description: These alchemical shards contain Dark energy. When enough are amassed, they form completed crystals that provide bonuses to the wielder.

Progress: 22/50

Interesting. So the shards could be turned into full crystals? He wondered what kind of bonuses they would provide.

As Dren put down the shards there was a knock on the door. “Knock knock!” a voice said, “just a neighbor saying hello!”

Dren felt dread wash over him at the sudden intrusion. He was quick to sheathe his wand in his pocket and looked at the sword hanging by the door. He would be careful, as the Cult of the Red might be after him. This could be a ruse meant to lower his guard and get him to expose himself.

The Artificer approached his door, holding his breath and placing his hand on the sword in its scabbard. He slowly opened part of the door and looked through it. On the other side was a congenial looking fellow with a pair of bottles in his hand. He was wearing a pink robe with little hearts emblazoned all over them. His hat was tricornered and little fairies were sitting in it. Surely this was not a member of the cult.

“Can I help you?” Dren asked.

The fellow took off his hat, causing the little fairies to fly up behind him, their wings flittering rapidly as they took flight. “My name is Garis Louver the Twentieth! I work in the shop across from you. I thought I’d do the neighborly thing and come say hello. I’ve got drinks!” He raised up two thin-necked bottles containing pink fizzing liquid.

“Do come in, I’m Dren,” he said, opening the door for the oddly dressed man.

“Wonderful!” Garis replied, pushing his way past Dren. “Ahhh, what a wondrous building you have. And from the smell of it, you’ve been hard at work! Making wands, I would guess.”

“That’s a hell of a guess,” Dren said, watching as the fellow sauntered over to a table where he slammed the bottles down.

“What kind of work are you in, Dren?” Garis asked. The fairies fluttered past Dren and landed on the odd man’s hat, giggling and waving to him. “Ah yes, these are my fine fairy friends, this is Twinkle and Sunshine.”

The fairies chittered in some kind of language that Dren did not understand. Fey were rare creatures to find and they were quite mischievous. It was an odd thing for a human to have them as friends or attendants, as they were constantly causing trouble with minor pranks that often ended in the human getting injured or worse.

“I’m an Artificer,” Dren said, too tired to beat around the bush. He was proud of his profession and with his adventuring, people would start giving it a good name. Or so he hoped.

“Ah! The fine art of making magical doohikies!” Garis said. “I knew an artificer once. Or so he claimed. Fellow told one of the nobles in the Golden District that he could make a Potion of Flight, but the noble was skeptical. Had the man test it himself first, by tossing him off a tower! Needless to say there’s a street known as Huckster’s Folly because of it.”

“Well, I make real magical artifacts,” Dren said.

“Of course you do!” Garis cheerily replied. “Come, have some of this good stuff. It’s called Reeble Fizzwine, full of bubbles and sugar. No wine, actually, as I don’t dare touch the devil’s nectar.”

Dren shrugged and grabbed the other bottle; he uncorked it and took a swig. It was quite sweet and fizzed on his tongue. It tasted great and sure enough, he couldn’t detect any alcohol in it.

“So tell me, what brings you to the city? That ribbon indicates you aren’t from around here.”

“Just some investigations,” Dren said. He didn’t feel like spilling his guts to this very inquisitive stranger. “What do you do?”

“Me? Oh well, I’m so glad you asked!” Garis said. “I am a love mage! You can see by the hearts on my robe, I take my work very seriously.”

“Love mage?” Dren asked.

“Oh yes, oh yes. I mostly deal in potions and tinctures. Folks have all sorts of troubles with love and I’m the man to solve them! Soldier can’t rise for battle? Just have some of my Energy Solution! Wanting a baby but it isn’t working? My fertility potions bring about a whole litter of kids.”

“I had no clue that was a kind of magic,” Dren said. He blinked a few times to process the information.

“Indeed! It is certainly not treated seriously by other mages in the city, but what would they know? They all work for guilds and are broke as hell. Not me! My unguents and oils fly off the shelf, as people always need good love,” Garis proudly explained. “And I am wealthy beyond imagination! Well I would be if my two darling assistants didn’t spend it all on drugs.”

The fairies chittered and laughed at that. Dren chuckled too. “You are a strange one, Garis.”

“A bit of an oddball, as my mother used to say,” Garis acquiesced. “Tell me, Dren. Have you any troubles or needs that I could assist with?”

“I am very good, thank you,” Dren said.

“Ah, so you say. But please, take my card,” the purported love mage said. He handed a short metal card to Dren that gave an address and had the tagline For Lovers of Love.

“How long have you been in the city?” Dren asked, quickly changing subjects.

“Oh, a good twenty-two years. Moved here after my last job as personal advisor to a very vindictive queen abruptly ended with an order for my execution. Something about everything going numb for weeks, I can’t remember. Either way, I decided to move to Drift City and try my fortunes as a vendor. Big success, I can tell you.”

“Have you ever heard of the Cult of the Red?” Dren asked.

Garis frowned at those words, all of his mirth fading. “Why do you dare ask such a brazen question?”

“I’ve encountered them recently and it was a harrowing experience,” Dren said. “I’m just curious to see what the people of the city know about them.”

Garis swigged his drink for a moment. “Girlies, go home, this isn’t meant for innocent ears.”

His fairies quickly vanished from sight.

The man sighed and rubbed his forehead before speaking. “They arrived some five years ago. Men and women wearing these deep red cloaks, speaking about the Hosts being inadequate. They speak blasphemy openly but the city has policies on religion. No one religion may have dominance over another. All may be practiced openly and freely. There are no evil Hosts, no dark gods that demand anything of us, so we live in relative religious harmony. But when they showed up… well, I think that law should change.”

“What do you know exactly?”

“Not much. Well, a bit more than not much. I knew a couple that was bright-eyed and full of vigor. Couldn’t keep their hands off each other and visited my shop regularly, buying wares and giving custom orders that would make a countess blush. Lively folks, my favorites. And then one day, they came wearing cloaks. Hands at their sides, expressions dull. They aren’t there to purchase anything. They say that the Fire Below has provided them with all the love they will ever need.”

Dren felt his skin crawl at Garis’ dark words. “I remember her more than anything. Face used to be full of life, always down to make a filthy joke…expressionless. Not content but more like…without desire any further. And the man, he kept his distance from her. They used to hold hands and rummage the shop, laughing and talking the whole time. But they were eerily quiet. Like some kind of spell had fallen on them.”

“What did they want?”

“For me to come to their meetings. To join the cult. That’s how they spread. They find people with influence and relationships then leverage them to invite others, taking advantage of that trust. But I knew something was wrong right away,” Garis said, nervously taking another drink. “I sure wish this were hooch. I was worried at first that they had been dominated, no not that kind, their minds ensorcelled by some kind of dark magic. So I agreed to visit, just out of respect for my beloved customers. And what I saw? Well, I swore I’d never speak of it again.”

“I don’t want to pry,” Dren said.

“Bah, if you’ve run into them, you have your own horror story,” Garis replied. “We went to a temple in the Underground Apartments. A building that looked ordinary on the outside but inside? Everything was quite twisted. Thorns growing out of the ground, fires that burned without torch. And the sound of a terrible heart beating at all times,” Garis continued, shuddering as he spoke. “The meeting was the worst thing I had ever witnessed. Hundreds of people in there, all like me. Concerned friends and neighbors, interested folks and injured people who were searching for healing. All of them huddled together in a chamber that barely held us.

“There was a woman wearing a red hood who led the meeting. She had this staff, a red gemmed thing with perpetual flames on the top of it. She spoke of there being a coming day of judgment on the decadent city. Claiming the people were sinful and impure. She said that the only way to avoid that judgment was to join the cult and acquire power for ourselves. Offered special abilities to those with classes and healing to those who were injured. And then, they lit a great pyre in the center…and something spoke.”

Garis paused for a long time after that. “From the flames a voice beckoned us. And all of a sudden, those who were uncomfortable started bowing down to worship it. The head priestess cheered with glee and the cultists all seemed like they were feeding on the power. I could sense no magical aura, but my meditation skill is top notch. I was easily able to resist whatever binding power was in that room. Many fell to it and then, we were offered punch and snacks. Can you imagine that? Punch and snacks after seeing something so horrible.”

“What happened after that?” Dren asked.

“I got the hell out of there. The couple, I saw only one time after that and it was concerning. They were in the Lavender District, offering pamphlets. The fellow, his arm was missing. I was horrified to see it and asked if he was okay. His answer?” Garis shuddered once more, shaking his head. “He said that his arm was weak and needed to be sacrificed. He was stronger without it.”

“Damn…” Dren muttered. “That is horrifying.”

“No kidding. I see red robes every now and then, but it’s the deep red that signifies them,” Garis explained. “I never saw my customers again. But I hear complaints from people here and there. Quests are given out to find missing people but they almost always mention that the person was a member of the cult. Those quests remain up on the board or are taken and then promptly returned.”

“And is the city aware of this?”

“Hard to tell. Drift City is massive. A few hundred people going missing isn’t going to really make a splash in the water. There are hundreds of thousands here. A report will be written, something will be sent to the city council but nothing will be done.”

Chapter 17

Garis had certainly overstayed his welcome after finishing talking about the cult. The man had a lot of nothing to say and said it all as much as he could, babbling about city politics, fairies and of course, his beloved love magic which went into graphic detail that deeply embarrassed Dren.

But the story of the cult’s headquarters at least gave Dren an idea where they were located. The Underground Apartments. It was a nickname, of course. It was just a sewer network that criminals and black market dealers had dug out over the years into a place with buildings and streets just like up here. There were no apartments down there, just places for criminals to hide and for those who were selling illegal or stolen goods to profit. A perfect place for a cult to set up shop.

Dren had no intention of getting any more involved in this sordid plot though. The city would eventually have to reckon with them, and that was their problem, not his. The best he could do was to avoid any red cloaks and avoid dealing with them if possible.

The next morning, after he slept in the workshop, Dren wrote a letter to Salla. He detailed that his short jaunt in the city had turned into an adventure unto itself and that he was doing fine. He wrote about how he missed her and hoped that she was doing well. Included in the letter was a request for her to ship a hearty amount of his cubes to his new address, as well as a promise that he would bring the killer to justice before the year was out.

He stopped by a post office and sent the letter, then headed out to complete his quests. The first stop was by a Quest Hall, one of the many buildings in the city that allowed for one to turn in their quest and get paid without needing to track down the original quest giver. This was good because Dren had no clue how to find Dragontooth in order to return his beloved brass knuckles.

The Quest Hall took the job and Dren’s booklet updated as he received not only a payment of 300 DriftCoins but also a bonus of 500 XP. Once he was finished there, he headed back to the Temple of the Holy Fervor, where Hanas was waiting for him.

“I’ve done it,” Dren said. “I have defeated the wight and his spawn.”

“Excellent!” Hanas replied. “Our tracking system indicated that they were destroyed yesterday. As promised, you are now an Associate of the Temple of Holy Fervor. Welcome aboard! Now then, I believe a payment is in order…”

As the old man fished 500 DriftCoins out of his coinpurse, Dren was greeted with words. Quest Completed! 2,500 XP gained! With the 3,000 he had earned from completing the dungeon and facing the cult, he was now at 5,750—more than halfway to Level 10. He had to admit, working in the city was a quick way to level up.

“Great, so now do I have access to the archives?” Dren asked.

“Indeed!” Hanas replied, pulling out a small card and handing it to Dren. The card immediately updated to show that he now had a rank with the temple as an Associate. That was now two guilds that Dren was officially associated with. He wondered what other benefits would be available if he continued to do quests for the temple but then again, undead hunting was rather difficult. He already had his hands full with the revenant beneath the tavern.

The temple was open to him now and he found himself able to wander about unimpeded. Most of the people there were busy, walking alongside each other and talking about corpses, ghouls and spirits. Most were paladin and cleric combos, eagerly sharing tips on what to do when facing this or that.

The archives were massive. Dren could scarcely believe his eyes when he saw them. It was a huge room with books as far as the eye could see, three floors high with ladders on each book case allowing one to travel all the way up. Thankfully there was an attendant there who was more than happy to help Dren find what he needed. After about half an hour of waiting, he was given a book titled The Neverending Hunt.

Within the book were all the details he needed on revenants. They were creatures that had unfinished business on the earth, but unlike spirits or ghosts, they never were satisfied with killing those who had betrayed them in their past life. Instead their hunger only grew and they slew and slew without care. They had the ability to change their body shape and could take on the face of any they had previously slain.

Thankfully the book also contained a ritual that allowed for an unbinding, separating the spirit of the revenant from its body. Without a body to indwell, the spirit would be pulled to the afterlife, forcing it to leave this earthly realm once and for all. The ritual had many words attached to it but the general consensus was that the words themselves were holy and thus one without class levels in Cleric should still be able to use it.

With the ritual secured, Dren quickly checked out the book and made his way back to the Vermillion tavern, where Nicky was waiting for him.

“About time you’ve come back,” she hissed. “I don’t know what you said to the damn thing down there, but it’s now howling wildly. I’ve had two people quit on me and a new hire who pissed himself!”

“I know, I know,” Dren said, showing her the tome. “I had to go on a long journey to fix this problem. But have no fear, I have the solution with me now. Just hang tight and your undead problem will be solved.”

“Not so loud!” she fussed.

Dren headed downstairs, really hoping that the ritual would work. The last thing he needed was some old book that promised a lot but delivered nothing.

The Artificer made his way into the cavern below the tavern and took a deep breath. The sarcophagus was sealed shut but the ritual stated that Dren would have to see the creature in order to perform it. He took another breath and approached the lid to open it up.

The revenant within had changed its face to that of a young woman. “Please sir!” she said, her flesh altogether there and supple as youth would give. “Some terrible person trapped me in here! Please, pull the binding pike out of my chest and let me free. I’m a princess and can reward you in many ways!”

“Nice try, but it’s me,” Dren said.

The woman scowled and her body transformed back into the original figure of the husk of the ancient warrior. “Curse you, adventurer. A million men have tried to slay me but I always return. You cannot kill me. But I will do no harm to your precious city. Let me go and I will take my revenge upon those who sprang forth from my land. Undoubtedly they have ancestors who were party of my betrayal.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Dren replied, taking ten steps back and opening the book. This was the first time he ever performed a ritual and he was following the instructions down to the letter. He cleared his throat and placed two candles on the ground before him, lighting one but not the other. The wind from the cavern caused the little flame to move about.

“It will take more than candles and some words to kill me!” the revenant growled, fighting with all of its might to get free. Thankfully, the spike in its torso prevented it from escaping its prison.

Dren found the page with the ritual words and began to read them. “Above there is endless joy,” he started. “But the ground is endless toil. Men work and live only for a brief moment, as the candle burns, so does his life from the moment he comes forth. Shadow is no existence and the unlit candle cannot burn again without some spark of flame. What gives you a spark to continue, terrible creature? What makes the revenant live again?”

The monster roared at him. “Revenge!” it howled, thrashing in its chains. “Revenge! I crave it! I desire it.”

“Thou has no satisfaction in revenge,” Dren continued. The interruption was part of the ritual as revenants could easily be compelled to talk about their desires. “For you have taken many lives. And you will never find satisfaction upon the earth.”

The candle to Dren’s left, the one that was lit began to flicker. This meant the ritual was working. “As the candle can light another with burning, so I say to you that you must move on! Your spirit burns with hatred but it does not belong here. By the heavens, by the Hosts, I command you, spirit. Separate from your body! Move to the ether!”

A great wind blew past Dren and the candle went out. The revenant let out one final howl of fury before it suddenly stopped moving. The next part was crucial. A blue spirit began to emerge from the corpse, bearing the likeness of a great warrior with a long beard and shaggy hair that was full of life. He wore full armor and carried with him a spectral sword.

“What madness are you performing upon me?” the spirit boomed.

Dren ignored it and quickly lit the other candle, then he opened up the book again. “And with the lighting of the second candle, comes the second life. All men must live and die, but it is the Hosts that carry them up to the heavens. Spirit! You have been satisfied! Go forth now into your eternal rest and trouble not the mortals on this plane any longer. Hosts! Send forth your angels to guide this wayward spirit to his home!”

At those words, the second candle blazed brilliantly for a moment before returning to normal. The spirit, who was flying towards Dren, suddenly found himself held back. Above, a great portal opened up. Two slender women with four long feathery wings descended from the portal and gently grabbed the spirit.

Dren’s eyes went wide. Never had he witnessed such beauty before. Wind whipped all around him as the spirit was pulled up through the portal and then, in an instant, he was gone. The stench of the corpse was still present but there was no life within it. Dren had successfully performed the unbinding ritual.

Spirit Released! 250 XP Gained! appeared in his vision. He let out a sigh of relief and stored the book in his backpack. Though the beauty of the angels had stunned him, his adventuring side took over. It was time for him to get paid.

The owner was thrilled that Dren had solved the problem. He took her down into the cavern system and showed her the sarcophagus and the now lifeless corpse. She was shocked that such a place lay beneath her tavern but ever the entrepreneur, she started to plot what to do with the extra space. She paid Dren 500 DriftCoins as promised and he received 250 XP for his hard work on the project. Not an amazing amount for banishing an ancient spirit but it was also relatively painless.

With the matter settled, Dren saw another stamp added into his questbook and he was alerted. Adventuring Rank has increased! You are now Rank D! You may now access better Quests!

Being a higher rank was always nice. Dren seemed to be well on his way to becoming a city slicker. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, he wasn’t particularly keen on rushing back to Arthursberg. There was so much going on in the city and people didn’t care about him here. If anything, they treated his metallic hand as a novelty and just another part of adventuring life. No one bothered him, castigated him or whispered about him. He was just an anonymous part of the crowd, going about his business like so many others.

Dren checked his coinpurse as he sat in the upper deck of the Vermillion, enjoying a fancy gin cocktail that was courtesy of Nicky. He was at 2,266 coins. A far cry from being able to raid the armory at the Slayer’s Shop, but enough to get him the necessities. The rest he would have to figure out on his own.

His first stop in the Lavender District was a magical pawn shop where they promised they paid the highest rates in the city. He still had that Swiftness Gem that was worth a thousand coins. There was some haggling involved but he managed to get 800 coins for it. This put him at 3,066 DC, enough to buy a few good items at the shop.

The vampire hunter’s section was thankfully unbothered by the customers, and everything was still in full stock. The big man behind the counter was more than happy to unlock the cabinet, allowing Dren to get the Spectacles of Salience and a Warding Holy Symbol. This brought him down to a thousand coins and some change.

Dren stared at the Stake Launcher, the small hand crossbow, and observed the design for some time. It was a useful thing, to be able to fire stakes at an enemy but…it only shot one at a time. There was no telling how many vampires were in that tower and he wasn’t sure that he’d have time to reload. Something in his head was humming as he looked at the item and he wondered if perhaps he could build something better.

Now that he had his workshop, Dren could make the best use of his crafting materials. The Temple of Holy Fervor provided many resources for research and an undead hunting temple would undoubtedly have information on vampire hunting. Sure, he could spend all of his money here, on consumer goods…but what if he were to design part of his arsenal on his own? He was a skilled crafter, after all.

Dren decided to try things out on his own. He purchased the two items that were necessary for fighting vampires and then headed to the Temple of Holy Fervor to begin research into building his own weapons. He had an idea for a design that would suit his combat style quite well…

Chapter 18

The Temple had, indeed, quite a few books on vampire hunting. The only trouble was that there were too many of them! When he inquired on the subject to the attendant, he was led to a mini-library where all of the tomes were stored. There were hundreds of written manuscripts that detailed the many different vampires accounted for in the world, all with differing opinions on how to kill them. Dren thankfully took advantage of his Research skill to skim through the texts and find exactly what he needed.

Returning to the workshop with a few hundred DriftCoins in supplies, Dren set about working nonstop throughout the day and the night. The Stake Launcher was the first thing he was going to improve upon. There were plenty of plans for different types of crossbows and mechanisms to fire projectiles but Dren found a rapid-fire launcher design that worked perfectly for his needs. But he wasn’t going to just build something from the manual. No, he was going to craft something entirely new. An attachment to his gauntlet.

He spent several days writing down notes and planning the construction, using his Artificer knowledge to fashion the perfect weapon. Using a metal belt, he worked to create a rotation gear that allowed the band to be strapped to his gauntlet. Upon flexing his pinkie finger, the rotation gear would activate, rotating the band. This took a week to figure out but it was time well spent.

Once the rotation system was properly working, Dren then added slots to the metal band, slots that were wide enough to hold wooden stakes. Now the store might have sold stakes for a few hundred coins a pop, but after researching, Dren discovered that any wooden stake would do the trick—they were nothing special in the end. He had gone to a gardening store in the Emerald District where he could buy twenty for a hundred drift coins, a far better deal than what was offered at the Slayer’s Shop. Markup was for the consumer, not the crafter.

The metal band slots were able to hold the stakes in comfortably. It took a little work to get them all to fit properly but with some gap extenders, Dren was able to cram six stakes onto the band, turning his right arm into a stake wielding cannon. Easy enough. But the harder stuff was next.

The band’s goal was to hold and rotate the stakes; they still needed something to launch them. The best option for this was crossbow string, cheap enough as it was and plentiful in the city. He drilled two screws into the wrist of the gauntlet, then wound the string around each screw tightly, creating a thin line that ran just above the wrist.

Drawing back the string by hand would be unwielding and difficult, as the wire required a lot of force to be pulled. But here was where Dren’s ingenuity came in. He had worked with many types of automated appendages before and the limbs of his skitter devices were sturdy and strong. Why not take his knowledge of small legs and apply it to a single steel leg?

This took more time, about a week to get right. Dren worked tirelessly, enjoying the time in his new workshop. Occasionally there was an interruption where Garis or one of his fairies would pop over to borrow something, though they didn’t stay long.

After countless iterations, Dren finalized the Draw Claw, as he called it. It was a long skitterbot leg that was affixed to the back of the gauntlet, able to be pulled up or down as needed. It was self-powered and reinforced with steel and iron, making it thick and strong. When he willed it, the claw would rake forward, a special catch hook on the edge of it, and grab the string, yanking it back. At first this was terribly slow, but Dren had some Red Steel cubes leftover from crafting his wand, so he made a new one with the Red Steel, which was lighter but just as strong.

Some basic research had shown that Red Steel was used in most of the buildings here, meant to make bridges and reinforcing girders that didn’t take up too much space but could be just as reliable as regular steel. The claw moved much faster with the upgraded material and could pull the string back in a matter of seconds.

The third week looked promising. Dren barely noticed the time pass as thoughts of more designs occupied his head. He worked on schematics and notes in the morning, crafted in the afternoon and tested in the evenings. Garis suggested that he might be overdoing it but Dren was determined to build something that could take vampires down effortlessly and with speed. He was not going to be caught off-guard again.

Testing showed several errors at once. First, the claw was fast enough to draw the string back but the belt mechanism didn’t release the secured stakes at all. This led to the first fire test causing wire to simply fire forward, snapping against his wrist. No good.

To remedy this, Dren worked on building a mounted wedge that would raise the stake upwards slightly, loosening its attachment to the belt. However, this caused trouble as moving the arm around would then send the stake scattering to the floor. The rotation gear would activate and another stake would go tumbling.

Not deterred, Dren spent some time building a divot in the Autogauntlet, where the wedge would rest. He then added a pressure switch that caused the wedge to pop up when the string was drawn back. This created a smooth and seamless moment to where his secured stake was able to break free of its confinements and fire out. However, the second fire test revealed more trouble.

Shunk the stake went as it flew a wild five inches forward before it plopped onto the ground, nowhere near the dummy that Dren had set up. The force of the shot was strong enough to free the stake and propel it but not nearly enough to make it dangerous or lethal.

Dren had to go back to the drawing board on this one. Why would the stake fly but not impale? The answer lay within one of the crossbow designs that he had picked to study. There was not one string but three that this model used. This was a relatively easy solution and Dren spent the better part of a day restringing the weapon so that there were now three strings instead of one.

The draw claw wasn’t strong enough to pull back three cords; trying so would cause the mechanism to break almost instantly. Here, Dren decided to use some simple artifice tricks to solve the problem: add more energy.

He infused twenty Energy cubes into the claw, increasing its speed and vigor, yet the problem still remained. It wasn’t strong enough to do any pulling past the halfway mark. One of the test claws almost broke, which caused him to stress because he didn’t have any more Red Steel cubes to build another.

Thankfully, a knock on his door one evening answered his problems.

“Coming!” Dren said, rushing from his gauntlet to the door. He opened it up to see two bored looking men settling down two large crates in front of him.

“You Dren?” one of the men roughly asked.

“In the flesh,” Dren said.

“Delivery for you, from Arthursbeg?” he said, holding out a clipboard. “Need a signature.”

Aha! Salla must have gotten the letter and sent the supplies. Time had passed so quickly that Den hadn’t even realized that his inventory would be getting here.

“Wonderful!” Dren said, signing the paper and tipping them a few coins. They hauled the crates into his workshop and walked off without a word.

The Artificer pried open the first crate to find tons of cubes scattered about. Everything he had ordered was right here!

“Success!” he shouted. Right at his moment of need, Salla had followed through. She was truly wonderful in every way.

His scanners quickly updated his inventory.

Inventory:

30 Earth Cubes

100 General Magic Cubes

15 Precious Cubes

15 Glass Cubes

250 Spruce Cubes

150 Timber Cubes

10 Leather Cubes

50 Fire Cubes

15 Dexterity Cubes

10 Cloth Cube

10 Beast Cubes

15 Poison Cubes

1 Liquor Cube

800 Steam Cubes

25 Transport Cube

5 Movement Cubes

1,000 Copper Cubes

500 Iron Cubes

500 Energy Cubes

250 Silver Cubes

170 Wood Cubes

10 Darkness Cubes

22 Dark Crystal Shards

10 Force Cubes

All of his cubes were accounted for. So what was hidden in the second crate? Dren opened it up to find a painting and a letter. He eagerly grabbed the letter and tore it open to see Salla’s curly handwriting.

Dren,

As you requested, I have packaged up as many cubes as I could find, which was no small task! I’m glad to hear you are well in the city. I miss you so dearly that I decided to make a painting for you to remember me by. I sure hope your adventures aren’t convincing you to stay in Drift City, as Arthursberg and the Den miss you. We’ve had some adventures on our own but surely nothing that would compare to what you are up to. I wish you well in your search and hope that I will be able to see you soon.

All the love and kisses in the world,

Salla.

Dren found himself tearing up at reading this letter that had been sprayed with her perfume. All thoughts of staying in Drift City seemed to fade in that instant. How he missed his dear Salla and the rest of his Den. The Den 2 was efficient but lonely.

Once he was done with the letter, he pulled out the painting and unwrapped it. What he saw made him blush profusely. It was a portrait of Salla wearing nothing but long white gloves. She stood in a seductive pose, her hands coyly covering both of her intimate areas. The portrait surprised him but he decided to put it up in his bedroom.

Once the melancholy of missing his darling girlfriend passed, namely due to the task of assembling and sorting all of the cubes that he had been sent, he returned to work with a renewed vigor. The inventory had arrived right at the crucial stage of development.

First, Dren took 10 Dexterity cubes and infused them into the claw, this made it more supple and faster. Then he added 5 Force cubes to it, which drastically improved its strength. In less than a second, the claw was able to hook and yank the three strings back. This gave way to the first successful test.

From thirty feet away, Dren was able to fire a stake straight into the dummy, albeit with minimal accuracy. The stakes needed to hit the heart but they only struck dead center. How was he going to fix that? Everything else went well in the test. The draw claw worked with blinding speed and the wedge system reset perfectly, allowing the stakes to be fired rapidly. But each shot had troubles with accuracy. He could only hit the middle of the dummy despite aiming for the heart each time.

In order to fix this, Dren spent some time observing the mechanism instead of the target. He fired forward, towards a large board that was set up to avoid doing any damage to the walls. What he noticed was that each time the stake was freed, it would start spinning. The sheer amount of force applied to the stake was transferring in such a way that caused the stake to shoot straight but to spiral as it moved.

Remedying this took some more time but Dren found a good solution. A targeting ring. This was installed at the center of the wrist. The wedge would slide the stake up and into the targeting ring which had small stabilizing teeth, like a gear, that would hold the weapon in place. By the time the crossbow string released, striking the back of the stake, it was held firmly by the targeting ring. This caused the ring to absorb some of the recoil from the shot and resulted in a smooth, forward trajectory.

“Haha!” Dren cried as he nailed the dummy right in the heart with his first shot. The weapon was finally completed. Another round loaded and he fired against, striking another dummy in the heart. All he had to do was point his gauntlet towards the target’s heart and it would pierce with blinding accuracy.

All that was left to do was name it. Dren thought for a while and decided to call it the Stakemaster, as it was truly the finest piece of vampire killing technology in the world.

Chapter 19

With the Stakemaster completed, Dren was free to work on his other designs, which were thankfully far less demanding. The first was his holy water dispersal system. This was an easy design, based on a schematic from a vampire hunter who catalogued everything he used on a daily basis.

Gardeners used tanks of water to spray their plants, heavy metal canisters that could be pumped in order to put pressure on the liquid. A few pumps on the cans would then allow a small hose to spray out bursts of water onto plants near and far. This design had been lifted by the vampire hunting world and applied to a hand variety.

Dren mimicked both designs but went a step further. He attached a spray nozzle to the bottom of his Autogauntlet, then ran a hose through the inside of the metal arm down to where two small canisters were placed. These canisters were pressured with a pump system but were filled with holy water. As a member of the Temple of Holy Fervor, Dren had plenty of access to the stuff.

The Temple had two large fountains of water that was blessed daily by the Clerics. Any member or associate was free to take as much as they liked and so Dren had gone in one day to fill up an entire barrel. He did receive some side eyes from passersby who were curious as to why someone would want a whole cask but Dren figured free was free.

This allowed him to fill several flasks with holy water, as well as the canisters that were attached to the bottom of the Autogauntlet. With the pressurization system in place, Dren’s gauntlet could release a burst of water that reached up to ten feet away. Any vampire who tried to get within melee range of him would receive a very nasty surprise from his glove.

After he perfected his two offensive tools, Dren turned his attention to defenses. First there was the matter of the spectacles. He analyzed them for some time and after a while became quite comfortable with the idea of removing the frames and keeping the lenses. The lenses, that’s where all the magical power was stored; the frames were just a cosmetic choice.

Dren’s goggles had a bit of a surprise in them. As he took them off to work on installing the magical item, he discovered that there were several slots for additional lenses to be added. All he needed to do was slid the spectacle lenses in by twisting. This installed the Spectacles of Saliency into his goggles, allowing him to keep wearing the things that provided him with the biggest amount of system data.

They were rose tinted and slightly changed the light of the world around him, giving them a bit of a brilliant hue. He noticed that colors were more vivid with the new lenses and that the shade was pleasant but did not hamper his ability to see in the dark.

The last bit of work was on protecting himself from being drained. Vampires seemed to go straight for the jugular when it came to their attacks, trying to take down their victim in a single bite. Even if they were pried off, the blood would leak out and quickly kill the person. To prevent such a terrible outcome, Dren fashioned himself a silver coif from the Silver cubes in his possession.

This took some time, about three days, making it a month since Dren had been out in the adventuring world. But when he was finished, he felt perfectly safe. The metal coif was oval, allowing for flexibility in the neck. No vampire was going to be getting access to his throat, that was for sure.

Dren left his workshop well equipped and ready to face the dangers of the Abandoned Spire. He had everything he needed, spells, a wand, his Stakemaster and all the holy water he could carry. This was going to be the adventure of a lifetime.

He decided to depart in the morning, just in case the vampires were nocturnal. It was said that some vampires who lived in perpetually dark places were awake at all times, hunting, experimenting and feeding. Some were highly intelligent creatures while others were feral monsters. In places without daylight, they did not need to rest as long as they had plenty of prey to feed on. Other vampire would rest in their coffins during the day, emerging only once the sun had gone down. Dren hoped that he would encounter the second kind.

As he traveled through the Grey District, he spotted the ominous tower in the distance. Memories of the draining and hypnosis came flooding back and he had a moment of hesitation. But there were innocent victims in that tower, a missing stone and the psychometry records. Everything had been for this moment and he took a deep breath, then he made his way to the tower.

Outside was a man staggering away. “Don’t go in there,” he grunted, clutching his neck. “Too dangerous.”

Dren ignored the man’s warning and entered the tower all the same. His lantern lit, he did his best to summon his courage and forged ahead to Zone 2, where that poor prisoner had been kept.

He discovered quickly that the man was now dead. His corpse was drained of all life and he looked bloated and disgusting. A month was a long time to be fed upon and Dren felt bad. “Rest easy, friend,” Dren said to the corpse. “I will avenge you.”

The Zone was now cleared but there were no experience points to be had. Dren could wander to the other remaining Zone but decided that he was just going to try and rush his way to the third floor. The longer he stayed here, the better chance of attracting the attentions of the vampire. He wasn’t too keen on meeting another, despite the fact that he was well equipped.

Dren searched the main lobby for a way to the next floor and found a stairwell leading upwards. He entered and immediately noticed something out of the ordinary.

The stairs were spacious and built for a large amount of people to climb at any one time. Despite the space, there was a large leathery cocoon hanging upside down in front of the first flight, blocking the way up. The cocoon stirred as soon as Dren came within range.

Before Dren could analyze this strange thing, the cocoon opened up, revealing that it was in fact a pair of leathery bat wings that were closed around a vampire. This creature did not look human in the least; it had a withered body with thin legs that were clinging to the ceiling with sharp claws. The creature had arms that stretched out as the red-eyed vampire let out a shriek.

Dren didn’t hesitate. He raised his gauntlet up and shot straight at the monster’s heart, aiming to the opposite side since the beast was upside down. The Stakemaster fired and the projectile went true, staking the creature right in the bull’s-eye. The beast jerked and the words Lethal Damage appeared over its head. The creature slumped down and fell to the ground before withering into dust.

Vampire Defeated! 250 XP Gained! appeared in front of Dren. His heart was pounding despite the fact that the encounter had lasted less than twenty seconds. The visage of the creature was terrifying. But his weapon had worked, field testing was a success! The gauntlet was reloaded in an instant but Dren took a moment to take another stake from his bag and place it into the gauntlet, returning the ammunition count to six.

The stake he had fired was splintered and broken now, the impact of piercing the torso making it unsuitable for being used again.

“Well, that’s one theory confirmed,” Dren muttered to himself as he began to climb the stairwell. The stairs led to a door but continued up several flights. Dren didn’t want to explore the whole of the dungeon as he was trying to just find the psychometry papers…and the Soren Stone. Damn, he would have to check this area too.

The door was stuck but a hefty push forced it open, revealing a large office area that was far worse than below. The ground here was covered in thorns and ichor. Strange yellow flowers were growing out of some of the thorns and the area had a red mist to it. The sounds of chittering echoed all around him, sending shivers down his spine.

Above, he could see several leathery cocoons, not really cocoons but sleeping feral vampires, a type that was known for attacking at the slightest provocation. Before Dren could do anything, a sultry voice greeted him.

“Ah, so he returns,” the Lady said, appearing in front of him, almost forty feet away. She was wearing a black corset with red frills and her pale skin glinted against his lantern light. Her eyes were dark black with red pupils and she wore dark red lipstick that curved as she smiled. “I was curious to see how you escaped from me the first time. But I’m even more surprised to see that you are back.”

Dren wasn’t sure what to do. If he attacked, the cocoons above would open up and the undead monsters would come racing down to fight him. He had the means to defend himself but could he really take on a whole swarm of vampires?

“I don’t wish to fight you,” Dren said. “I’m merely looking for a few things. If you can respect me and keep your distance, I will do so for you.”

“Spoken like a scared little mouse,” the Lady purred. She chuckled and sat on the edge of a desk that was still standing. “You killed one of my guards below. Not even a moment of hesitation. I like that in a man. Why don’t you come sit next to me?”

Dren could feel her magics surround his mind but he resisted easily enough. The spectacles allowed him to look at her without feeling the compulsion to do anything. The woman frowned when she realized he was immune to her domination effect. “It would seem my hypnosis doesn’t want to work on you. A real shame. But tell me, young man, why would you want to resist my power? Don’t you realize that I am beautiful and willing? Oh what sensualities we could enjoy together. I don’t need to feed off of you, for I have ample human cattle here. But companionship is something I savor.”

There were more humans here? Dren took a deep breath and knew what he needed to do. There was no stopping this. He was facing an undead monster who took delight in draining the life forces of others. “What kind of sensualities?” Dren asked, walking a little to get within range of her.

“All kinds of—” she started to say before Dren fired a stake right at her.

The vampiress was faster than Dren expected though, and she caught the wooden rod in midair like it was a mere toy. “Oh, so you think you’re strong enough to take me down? You some kind of amateur vampire hunter? Very well, if you want me, you can have me.”

With that, she turned to smoke, zipping towards Dren in a split second. She reappeared right in front of him and seized both of his arms. Dren was prepared for this and had angled the nozzle of his holy water sprayer to the side. The moment she seized him, he sprayed.

The holy water fired out in a fine mist, covering the side of her face. She yelped in agony and fell back, screaming as her skin burned. “You son of a bastard!” she cried. Dren aimed his gauntlet at her and fired another stake, but she was gone in the blink of an eye, turning back into smoke.

The Lady reappeared atop one of the desks and pointed. “Kill the intruder! Rip his throat out!”

Overhead, the leathery cocoons all opened up at once. The feral vampires looked similar to the one he had faced in the stairwell, though they were bigger and more muscular. They all launched from their resting places at the same time, flying through the air at blinding speeds.

Dren was quick to pull his holy warding symbol out and raise it high into the air. This caused three of the four vampires to abort their course, shrieking in terror as the symbol warded them instantly. They fell back screaming but the fourth didn’t seem to be affected by it. He was the biggest out of the group and charged Dren, tackling him to the ground.

The Artificer tried to wrestle the monster but it was too strong. It opened its jaws and let out a hoarse scream before it tried to latch onto his throat. The silver coif around Dren’s neck worked perfectly, causing the creature to scream as it bit. The silver burned its mouth and the beast fell backwards, wings spread out as it shouted in pain.

Dren aimed his gauntlet up towards the exposed chest of the feral vampire and fired, the shot hitting its torso and piercing its heart. This one turned to dust immediately, the ashes scattering around in an instant.

The other three recovered from their cowering state but Dren was already on the move. He leaped up to his feet and began to fire at each one. The stakes shot forward with deadly accuracy, striking one, two, but missing the third as it charged.

While the two impaled vampires sank to the ground, the third one slashed a claw across Dren’s stomach. 7 Damage! Armor Absorbed! appeared in his vision.

The beast pressed its advantage, striking Dren in the chest, but his armor held once again and Dren sprayed the monster with holy water, forcing it to reel back. The Artificer finished it off with another stake and then turned to face the Lady…but she was gone.

Combat Won! 650 XP Earned! appeared in Dren’s vision as he gazed out at the pile of vampire corpses and ash. When all was said and done, he had not overprepared in the least.

Chapter 20

With the vampire vermin taken care of, Dren was free to explore the second level of the Abandoned Spire. His scanners quickly took note of the area and created a mini-map. He noticed that the thorns and vines that covered the ground had faded with the vanishing of the Lady. How curious.

Floor 2: 6 Zones

Zone 1: 1 Anomaly

Zone 2: 1 Anomaly

Zone 3: 2 Anomalies

Zone 4: 1 Anomaly

Zone 5: 3 Anomalies

Zone 6: 1 Anomaly

Doors were everywhere and there were a few corridors displayed on the map that led to bigger areas. The Artificer turned vampire hunter reloaded his stakes and prepared to investigate. The Lady was still at large but he would deal with her only if she tried to attack him. Her power was great despite the fact that he was immune to her hypnosis. She had the ability to catch his stakes, meaning that she was very, very high level. To be honest, he hoped he would not see her again.

“Find the Soren Stone,” Dren muttered to himself. That was his goal on this floor. It had to be here somewhere, right?

He turned to his left and headed to a door that read Conference Room. He opened it up to see the Zone 1 marker activate. There was a single anomaly in this area.

The room itself was large and square, with a broken round table in the center. Chairs were scattered everywhere, most of them missing their legs. In the corner was a little girl, cowering in fear. This must be one of the human cattle the vampire talked about.

“Hey there!” Dren said, doing his best to sound nonthreatening. He stretched out his good hand towards the girl. “It’s okay, you’re safe! I’m here to help you!”

The little girl continued to cower and sob. Dren drew closer and lowered himself to show that he was safe to be around. “Don’t you want to leave this place?”

At this point, the little girl smiled, revealing a pair of long fangs. “Idiot!” she cackled, and she leapt towards him. Dren didn’t have a chance to react, his guard lowered at the sight of a small child. She crashed into his chest with both fists pointing forward, which threw him into the wall behind them. Dren smashed into the thick metal wall. His armor cracked as it gave way to the damage, breaking instantly. He only took 6 points of damage—out of 14—but his head was fuzzy from the blow.

“You’re a damn vampire too?” Dren shouted as she pounced on him again.

He dodged out of the way and she grabbed the wall to climb it. She may appear to be a little girl but vampires could live a long damn time. There was no reason to hold back when she was after his own life.

Dren tried to acquire the target but she was scampering across the wall and the ceiling too quickly. He couldn’t fire because he couldn’t aim at her heart. She roared at him and a sonic burst of energy came crashing through the air.

Next thing he knew, the Artificer found himself stunned, his head spinning as she landed in front of him. Her claws dug into his armor and she climbed up to latch onto his throat, only to be repelled by the silver coif. Stunned! appeared in Dren’s vision while he struggled to get his bearings.

The little vampire was displeased by her inability to drain his blood but didn’t demur. She seized his fleshy wrist and clamped down on it. The pain was enough to draw Dren back out of his stupor. He yelped and reflexively punched her in the side of the head with his Autogauntlet. The heavy metal sent her falling backwards.

“We don’t have to fight!” Dren said as she scurried back up the wall. He aimed his spray nozzle at her and waited a beat.

“Lunch doesn’t talk!” she shouted back and she leapt at him again. He activated the spray and she flew through a mist of holy water, her entire body igniting into flames. She screamed a horrible scream and flailed but was unable to douse the fire. Dren sprayed her some more, all the while feeling terrible for what felt like attacking a mere kid.

The girl melted into the ground, her corpse fizzling. Encounter Won! 500 XP! appeared in his vision as she fell inert. The fire burned for a while and then extinguished itself.

Dren wiped his forehead and took a deep breath. That had been one hell of a fast fight. Vampires moved quickly and he couldn’t always rely on his stakes. Perhaps he should have purchased a few of those daylight orbs. Those would have made quick work of her.

Anomaly Cleared! 150 XP! Zone Cleared! 250 XP! appeared in Dren’s vision once he had investigated the rest of the room. He found nothing but a collection of drawings of humans being devoured by vampires. Those were unnerving to say the least.

Dren returned to the main hub and headed to another door on the right, opening it up to find a corridor leading to Zone 3. A red aura flickered around the ground and he noticed there was a plate in the floor that was slightly raised. A trap!

He decided to test the trap the old-fashioned way. He leaned his entire body back and inched a boot forward, stepping on the plate with the very tip of his shoe. The plate immediately sank in and there was a shwunk! as four spears, two on each side, shot upwards and at an angle. Anyone walking in between them would have been skewered on both sides at the same time.

Dren noticed that the spears were retracting slowly and decided to solve the problem once and for all. He seized two of the spears with one grab and crushed with his metal fist. This broke the spears in half. The other two retracted and he stepped on the plate again to destroy the other pair. This led only to harmless sticks shoving up out of the ground when he walked past now. A rudimentary but easy way to disable a trap.

He made his way down the corridor and turned to see a large metal door that was barred from the outside. There was also a barred window, allowing him to peek inside. He could see humans sitting around the room. They were in rags and looked quite exhausted and weary. There were three women and two men, all of them sitting on the dirty floor, their faces drained of all color.

Before Dren unbarred the door, he wanted to check that he wasn’t dealing with any more vampires. The last encounter had taught him that much. “Hello?” Dren said. “Who is in here?”

The people all looked towards the door and saw Dren’s face. In an instant, they were standing, hobbling their way to the door. “A human!” one of them exclaimed.

“Let us go!” a woman cried.

“Hurry before the Lady returns!” another said.

That’s all Dren needed to hear. He unlatched the door and opened it up.

The people swarmed him, rushing past as quickly as they could. No one bothered to say thank you or to stay behind to explain anything. They ran as fast as possible, fleeing the place that had been their prison.

Prisoners Freed! Anomaly Cleared! 250 XP! appeared in Dren’s vision. But the Zone had another anomaly inside of it, so he walked in cautiously to look around. There was a large metal chest in the corner, which caught his eye immediately.

“Well, hello beautiful,” Dren said, kneeling down and trying to open the chest. It was locked, leading Dren to spend some time picking it.

After about fifteen minutes of work, the lock twanged as it unlocked and the chest popped open to reveal three potion bottles and a pile of DriftCoins.

“Looks like someone was storing their treasure here,” Dren mused as he used his Identify skill on the potions.

Identify Success!

Potion of Regeneration

Description: This potion allows you to regenerate up to 5 Hit Points per second for a duration of 1 minute.

Value: 500 DriftCoins

Mastermind Potion

Description: This potion grants you heightened intelligence and sets all of your Skills to A for 1 hour.

Value: 1,000 DriftCoins

Hero’s Potion

Description: This potion grants you +20 HP for 1 hour.

Value: 2,500 DriftCoins

Not a bad haul! Dren quickly slipped the potions into his potion belt and then collected the DriftCoins that were sitting around. They were worth a thousand. Certainly enough for him to get some scrolls or even wands.

Anomaly Cleared! Zone Cleared! 250 XP Gained!

Well, that was it for Zone 3, and so Dren headed back the way he came.

The thorn covered room was illuminated this time. Dren could sense a change in the air and saw an aura of magical energy moving in the area to the north.

“Halt!” a man shouted, his voice deep and full of bravado. Dren could see that there were two strangers wearing heavy plate armor and carrying halberds standing in front of one of the doors. They did not look to be vampires and Dren could see the faint magical aura collecting around one of them.

“Who are you?” Dren asked.

The other, equally as brawny as his companion, spoke. “We are servants of The Lady and what you have done this day cannot stand!”

“Servants?” Dren replied with a scoff. “Those are bloodthirsty vampires we’re talking about.”

“They are our masters! We humans are the lesser race, for we live only a short while. They live on for all eternity, feasting and feeding,” the first one said. “And you have committed a foul series of murders while here. Stand down this instant and submit to judgment, or be slain!”

“Judgment, what kind of judgment would I get other than being drained?” Dren asked.

“The Lady has deemed you worthy of receiving the dark gift. You are strong and crafty, you shall certainly be given the power of a vampire. She has deemed it so!”

“You’re both crazy,” Dren said. “Are you being mind-controlled? Come on, break out of it!”

“No one is controlling us,” they replied in unison. “And if you will not submit, you will die by our hands!”

Chapter 21

The pair of vampire guards rushed forward. Dren didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t stake them as they were wearing heavy armor and holy water wouldn’t work. He ordered his cannons to activate but by the time they popped up and acquired their targets, the two warriors were atop Dren, pinning him to the ground.

They both grabbed his arms, holding him down, while one yanked his holy ward off of its chain. These men were very strong and Dren couldn’t escape their grasp. Their free hands were trying to grab the silver coif and pry it off, probably so that he could be served as dinner to their master.

Unable to free himself with brute strength, Dren had a different idea. He brought one of his spells to mind, the grease spell. Immediately, he was covered in grease, his arms and legs turning wet and slick. This caused both of the men to lose their grip on him at the same time and though they tried to grab him with both hands, he slipped out from under them easily enough.

“Haha!” Dren cheered as he climbed to his feet.

His celebration was a tad too early, however, for the Scuttleboots were also greased, making it hard for them to grab onto the ground. He skidded around, out of control, until he managed to figure out how to move. By skating across the terrain, Dren was able to outmaneuver his enemies.

They both rose and tried to attack him with their halberds but Dren had the advantage. He ducked under the first swing and zipped past the second, spinning around and activating his good old Cannon Friends. They acquired their targets with the Aim action, since he was moving so quickly, and then opened fire.

The first shot hit the larger of the pair, a balding man with a thin upper lip. He took 10 damage and his HP dropped down from 25 to 15. The second blast, however, struck a thin magical shield around the other. This was probably the source of the aura Dren had detected earlier.

“Keep chasing, I’ve got a spell to deal with this!” the presumed wizard declared. The other big guy ran after Dren, his heavy metal armor clinking as he struggled to keep up with the greased up Artificer. Dren turned a corner and slid across the room, far from his pursuer.

His guns aimed and fired again, but the soldier was prepared this time around. He dove to the ground, dodging both shots that whizzed overhead and smashed into a pillar that was already fairly damaged. Thankfully, the rounds didn’t go all the way through, thus keeping the ceiling from collapsing on them.

Dren turned his attention back to the wizard just as he flung a spell at him. The Artificer didn’t have the time to cast Dispel. A lightning bolt came crashing towards him and Dren only had a chance to react by dropping to his knees and sliding beneath it. This worked perfectly and he slid up to the caster, sword drawn.

“Take this!” Dren shouted, slashing away with his longsword.

The thin shield once again held up to stop the damage but it weakened from two rapid slashes. It flickered and faded on the third. The caster guard swung the pole part of his halberd into Dren, knocking him backwards and sending him sliding towards the other guard.

This guard did not hesitate and speared his halberd’s pointy end into the ground as hard as he could. Dren rolled out of the way just in time, his defenses high enough to protect him, and he scrambled back to his feet. The spellcaster was already preparing another spell, murmuring in some ancient tongue and forming a black sphere in his hand.

Dren had an idea. He had been sliding all over the area, filling the ground with grease. He activated his Autograpple Backpack and latched onto the ceiling. It yanked him up and he drew his Wand of Fireball to aim it towards the caster guard. “Here’s hoping this works!” he said, and he activated the slender wand.

A bead of fire zipped out of the tip of the wand and struck the ground where the caster was standing. An explosion of fire washed all around him and ignited the floor. Flames rushed all the way up to the other guard who was trying to get a good angle to spear at Dren from the ground. He had ignored the grease but now was covered in flames.

They both yelped in agony and screamed, trying to douse the fire by rolling on the ground, but this only made things worse as everything had erupted around them. They took rapid damage and they both died within seconds of the attack.

The fire burned the grease away and faded when it had no more fuel to consume. Dren let out a sigh of relief and dropped down onto the ground. The guards were charred and burned beyond recognition; their heavy armor was the only thing unaffected by the blaze.

Combat Won! 500 XP Gained! appeared in Dren’s vision as he searched for his warding amulet. It took a few minutes but he found it nestled in a folder holder on one of the broken desks.

“There you are,” he said, holding up the ward. He quickly put it back around his neck and returned to his search for the Soren Stone, wondering if he’d ever find it.

He tried a few doors but found they were either storage closets or corridors that had collapsed from the inside. Eventually, Dren stumbled upon a door that allowed passage into Zone 1. He passed through a filthy corridor that led to a large steel door with a vault wheel on its front.

“Interesting,” Dren said as he examined the sturdiness of the door. From the looks of the construction, someone had come along and built this door after the spire was destroyed. Someone wanted to keep something inside and had worked hard to ensure that nothing would escape that room.

Dren grabbed the vault wheel and began to turn it, forcing the massive spoke to move until it swung open, revealing a large room with something that took his breath away.

It was a dragon! Chained from multiple points on the wall, lay a grey dragon with magnificent scales. The beast’s wings were bound together with great iron bands and all four of its legs were shackled. The creature wasn’t very large, about the size of a stallion, but still Dren couldn’t believe his eyes. He had never seen one up close before. The only time he had ever encountered a dragon was once when he was a child exploring the woods.

It had been flying overhead, a great green lizard that was sailing across the wind itself. No one in town had believed him, as dragons were rare things to behold, but Dren never forgot the sight. And now he saw that this poor creature was shackled up tightly, with the cruel vampires going so far as to even clamp its mouth shut.

The grey dragon looked at Dren slowly, opening two yellow eyes that locked onto him immediately. It was weak, he could tell, for it was not rising to meet him.

“Hi there, do you understand me?” Dren asked. Dragons were intelligent but only after a certain age. He was unsure how old this one was.

The great and noble lizard slowly nodded its head, making the chains clink.

“My name’s Dren and I’m an adventurer,” he said. “I want to help you.”

The beast did nothing but slowly blink at him. “Now…uh, I don’t want to be rude but I need to know if you’re going to hurt me or anything,” Dren said. “Can I remove the band around your mouth? Or will you try to eat me?”

The beast did nothing but merely sigh, its sad eyes pleading with Dren for him to free it. The Artificer’s heart got the better of him and he decided to risk it. He wasn’t going to be foolish by freeing the creature all at once, but maybe it could speak.

Dren approached the noble dragon. The chain affixed to the ground kept it from being able to raise its head much. Thankfully there was a padlock around at the bottom, and with some work he was able to pick the lock and loosen the chain. With the chain loose, the iron band around the dragon’s mouth fell off, the tension no longer there to hold it in place.

“Oh, that’s better,” the grey dragon said, its voice deep and full of vibrato. “Thank you, friend Dren.”

“Before I get these other chains off,” Dren said. “Who are you? Why are you in here?”

“I fear that I am a prized possession of the Lady herself,” the dragon replied. “My name in human tongues is Grecius.”

“Prized possession?” Dren asked.

“Vampires do not need to feed exclusively on the blood of humans to survive. The Lady considers me to be something akin to a fine wine, drinking my blood when she is in a celebratory mood, or when she has guests from other clans to impress,” Grecius explained. “Though how you were able to get past her and her ilk is somewhat of a marvel.”

Dren could see two large marks on the side of the dragon’s neck, which corroborated his story. They were jagged cuts that looked deep. “That’s horrific! How long have you been down here?”

“As a dragon I have little sense of time,” Grecius replied. “A few years perhaps. I do not know. I rest mostly, sleeping in hibernation until she wakes me for her feeding.”

Dren looked around but saw no provisions whatsoever. “What about feeding you?” he asked as he began to work on the other chains.

“Occasionally I get a scrap of meat here and there, part of a cow or some goats but not enough to survive. The only way I have made it this far is by suspending my metabolism with sleep,” the dragon replied. “I hope you forgive my sluggish nature. I am very weak.”

“We’ll get you out of here in no time,” Dren said. “Just let me work on these locks.”

A feminine voice from the entrance to the room caused Dren’s blood to freeze. “Well, aren’t you a cheeky bastard for killing my favorite servants and then breaking into my dragon room.”

Dren spun around to see the Lady standing across the way. She was smiling wickedly. “They were supposed to knock you out and take you to me. Come now, Dren, you surely are beginning to see what kind of power I possess. Do you really think you can just barge in and take what is mine? You freed my cattle but they are inconsequential. Most of them were too drained and made for only sustenance meals for my lesser vampire kin.”

The Artificer quickly raised his gauntlet. “If you try to come near me, I will stake you right to hell!”

“Oh please, don’t be so dramatic,” the Lady replied. “I am not going to hurt you. On the contrary, Dren. I wish to elevate you. To bring you to greater places. Do you not see my power and my beauty? I am eternally young while the rest of your human civilization wastes away. Do you not wish to be eternal? To live forever and with such deliciousness? There are so many things a vampire has that mortals do not. Are you really going to decline the dark gift that I wish to give you?”

“You are not some glorious race,” Dren spat. “You are a monster who has betrayed your humanity in order to kill and feast upon others. You’re never going to get me to join your side, so don’t waste your breath.”

“Come now,” the Lady said, snarling a little. “I could easily kill you.”

“Then why aren’t you?” Dren asked.

The vampiress laughed at that. “Because I’m having so much fun with your little intrusion. You are purging the weak from my clan and testing my securities. Already I see where I have gone wrong. You strengthen me with every action you take. But the dragon? That I cannot allow you to free.”

Dren looked at Grecius. “Can you fight?” he whispered.

“I am too weak to even break the iron bands around my wings,” the dragon replied. “Let alone fight.”

“Then come stop me,” Dren threatened, keeping his Autogauntlet up. The Lady merely laughed.

“I do not do anything around here. Perhaps Vermax will be able to quell you.”

Chapter 22

Before Dren could ask what or who was a Vermax, a shadow rose up from the ground. A figure appeared before him, a great hulking brute that was humanoid but barely. He had the same features as a feral vampire but his arms and legs were thick and grey, like that of a gargoyle. His head was massive and he had nothing but fangs.

“Go and take care of Dren for me,” the Lady said, still laughing. “And if you can’t knock him out, then rip him to pieces and suck the marrow from his bones.”

The massive feral vampire unhinged his jaw and let out a bone-chilling scream that scared the hell out of Dren. It thumped forward, walking on its hands like a tree dweller. The thing was not fast but it was as big as a barn and wide as one too.

Dren drew his holy amulet and pressed it forward, toward the beast. The creature did not seem to be affected by the power and continued storming towards Dren.

“Oh, don’t be so silly! Your little amulet might work against lesser ferals but a greater feral? Their minds are so dull they can’t comprehend anything,” the Lady taunted. “Give up now, Dren. Give in and become one of us.”

Dren fired a stake at the beast but its hide was thicker than steel. The stake bounced off of its chest and clattered to the floor. He drew his wand with his other hand and aimed it, firing a shot, but suddenly the monster was in front of him. It had dashed across the space of the room, avoiding the fireball altogether.

The Artificer tried to step back or dodge but the brute was faster than Dren could anticipate. It struck him with and open hand, swinging into an uppercut. The blow connected with Dren’s chin and threw him back several feet, dealing 10 damage to him. His health had regenerated from the time he had spent searching the dungeon but now he was down to 13 hit points.

The world spun around him as he climbed back to his feet. Vermax charged towards him on all fours, unhinging his jaw again and letting out a wild roar. Dren didn’t have a chance to think, the beast rammed him in the chest and it threw him back against the wall. He took only 3 points of damage from the blow but his armor cracked, breaking down once again.

“Damn it…” Dren gasped as he tried to get back on his feet. Vermax went to charge once more but the grey dragon beside him intervened. Grecius slid a leg out at the last minute, tripping the monster as it ran, and it stumbled onto the ground.

The Artificer staggered to his feet and put a hand on his torso, casting the Speed Boost spell from his repertoire. This drained his mana by 10 points, dropping him down to 16, but it was well worth it.

“Do not interfere!” the Lady hissed as she pointed a claw towards the dragon. “Or I shall drain you to your very last drop.”

Vermax rose and turned towards Dren, charging again. With the enhanced speed, the Artificer was able to dive out of the way and spin around it. His cannons fired at the same time but the shots seemed to soak into the thick carapace of the creature. It was immune to the damage, it seemed.

“Damn it,” Dren said as the beast unfurled two massive wings before taking flight. He had been readying to fire off a grease spell to impede its movements but Vermax was now flying slightly above ground.

He tried to dodge but it was faster with the propulsion from its wings and it rammed him again, sending him crashing into the other wall. His HP dropped down to a critical 3 points. He slid down from the impact and gasped, struggling to breathe through the pain.

Vermax was above him in an instant.

“Do you yield?” the Lady asked. “Will you accept the dark gift?”

“Never,” Dren grunted.

“Devour his head,” the Lady demanded. “Let’s see where nobility gets you.”

Vermax roared again unhinging its jaw wide in preparation to devour Dren. The Artificer had nothing left to lose. With his increased speed, he thrust his Autogauntlet into the creature’s open mouth and shoved it in hard. The creature instinctively clamped down around the reinforced metal, trying to bite into it but thankfully a lot of work had gone into making the gauntlet secure against being bitten off.

With the arm in the creature’s throat, Dren then activated the holy water nozzle, pouring as much as he could into its gullet. Vermax did not seem to understand this and just tried to bite down harder.

Dren emptied both tanks into the monster’s stomach and, for a moment, thought it to be a grave mistake, one that could have sealed his fate. Seconds passed and then Vermax opened its mouth wide and staggered back, smoke pouring out of its throat. The creature tried to claw at its own stomach to get the holy water out but it was too late. It fell to the ground, writhing and shaking in agony. The thing burst into flames and melted away into the rock.

“You…you want some of that?” Dren asked, standing weakly on his feet. This was a bluff but the Lady’s eyes were wide in terror.

“You killed Vermax!” she hissed. Long claws extended from her hands and she began to approach. “There will be a great punishment for that!”

Dren was at a loss of what to do. He was injured and this greater vampire was something beyond what he could face head on. She was fast and strong, able to catch his stakes and he was out of holy water. As she approached, taking her time to heighten the terror, an idea came to him.

He grabbed his Potion of Regeneration and looked at Grecius. “Catch!” he shouted, throwing the bottle across the room.

The noble dragon mustered all of the strength it had left; it snapped its jaws open in the direction of the potion and clamped shut around it. Immediately, Dren could see the change take place.

The dragon’s body grew much thicker, ropes of muscle swelling and expanding all around its frame, bulging out where previously there had been nothing but a smooth hide. The regeneration potion worked quickly to get Grecius back to his former self and the dragon let out a thundering roar. He flexed his wings so hard that it broke the iron bands around him.

Before the Lady could get to Dren, Grecius opened his mouth wide and released a burst of flames that created a circle around the Artificer. The Lady hissed at the intense heat and drew back for a second, unable to approach.

“You think some dragon fire will slow me down?” she growled, raising both hands. A black fog came washing out from her fingers, moving towards the fire. The flames flickered and died down in an instant.

“You may have the power of the night,” Grecius roared as he approached the wall to the right, opposite of Dren. “But this is the day!” With a mighty claw he smashed the wall, once, twice and then a third time, causing the entire side to explode. Light, precious daylight, came flooding into the room.

The Lady hissed violently at the sight of the light and quickly turned into shadow, moving back into the hallway. “You fool! You’re taking my dragon!” she cried as the dragon approached Dren. “I will make you pay for this!”

“You are injured and weak,” Grecius said, lowering his head. “Climb aboard and we shall leave this place.”

Dren nodded and rose to his feet, staggering forward. The damage from Vermax’s attacks had weakened him considerably and he knew that he couldn’t keep scaling the tower. Out of the corner of his eye, however, something caught his attention.

In the pile of ash where Vermax had been was a large stone, grey and shimmering with magical energies. Daylight washed around it, enhancing the sparkle. His Identify skill saw it as the Soren Stone. What a fortuitous find! The terrible vampire must have consumed it while devouring someone, no thought in his mind.

Dren quickly collected the stone and climbed on the back of the dragon. He couldn’t believe what was about to happen next.

The noble dragon rushed towards the newly formed exit and leapt out, spreading his wings wide. Dren was riding a dragon! What an adventure!

Encounter Won! 1,000 XP gained! appeared in Dren’s vision as they flew towards another tower, an apartment complex with a rooftop access. The additional XP from the encounter had brought him up to 9,400 XP, leveling him up.

They landed on the roof and Dren dismounted from the dragon. “Thanks for saving me,” Dren said.

“I believe we saved each other,” he replied. “For without your courage, I would not be free of my chains and without your ingenuity, I would not have been able to summon the great strength within me. I truly thank you, Dren.”

“Don’t mention it,” Dren said, patting the dragon on the snout. “So what’s next for you?

“I shall fly to my cavern, far from this place. The city was where I was visiting out of curiosity when the vampiress seized me. Things are hazy from that point on but I do not wish to be in a loud place full of so many curious humans,” Grecius explained. “Before I part, I have a gift for you.”

The dragon plucked a scale from his side and handed it to Dren. “This scale contains great magical power within, though it will not work as is. You are clearly an inventor of sorts. Use it in your creations, you will find it to contain many valuable properties.”

“Thank you, friend dragon,” Dren said as he took the scale in hand. It was warm to the touch and heavier than it looked.

“Thank you, friend Dren,” the dragon replied before it took off, flying majestically high into the sunlight.

Chapter 23

Dren returned to his new den exhausted and ready for sleep. Fighting vampires was a draining affair and he had his fill of facing them. With the Soren Stone now secured, he was free to continue his journey up to the third level of the Abandoned Spire.

But before that, he was going to get some sleep and then in the morning, would level up. He rested for what seemed to be an eternity, waking a few times in a start, worried that something was watching him, but the fear was just anxiety leftover from the harrowing encounter with the vampiress. If he never saw another vampire again, he would be happy with that. He had done the best he could, saved a few lives and slain a gaggle of them, but now he was ready to focus on other ventures.

In the morning, Dren woke up, put on a pot of coffee and sat down to level up.

Level Up! You are now Level 10!

You gain a Stat Increase! Select a Stat to add +4

Stats:

HP: 23

MP: 26

Speed: 3

Defense: 7

Poison: +5

Dren pondered this for a time and decided to increase his health. The number of encounters that damaged his armor beyond repair was quite high and having a few extra hit points were worth the investment. This brought him up to 27 HP, not a bad amount.

You Gain 4 Skill Points! You may purchase a new skill or increase a skill by 1 Rank!

Learned Skills:

Artifice: A

Identify: A

Search: A

Appraise: C

Command: A

Control: B

Trapfinding: A

Mechanics: B

Herbalism: C

Researching: C

Butchery: D

Architecture: C

Meditation: D

Aura Sense: F

Counterspell: F

Unlearned Skills:

Focus: Extends the duration of a spell by 1 each rank.

Siphon: Allows you to drain Mana from Charged Magic Items. Each rank adds more mana.

Dren wasn’t interested in getting new skills as the two lagging behind weren’t that useful to him. Instead he decided to focus on improving the skills he already possessed. Since he had access to various guilds within the city, he decided to increase his Researching skill by 1 rank, bringing it up to B. This would allow him to hopefully find and access more spells and magical knowledge once he was within the vaults of the Psychometry Department on level 3.

After that, he decided to increase Aura Sense by 2 Ranks in order to gain more information when reading auras around him and Counterspell up by one. These would make a fine addition to his current set of abilities.

Next up were his Feats which had new options added to them.

You gain 2 Feats! Select from the list below!

Infuser:

Mana Sink: You may store up to 5 Mana into an Invention. At any time, as long as the invention is present, you may draw that Mana out. This may only be done one at a time.

Overclock: You may spend 2 Mana to enhance your Cogbots’ performance for a minute.

Enhance Gear: You may spend 1 Mana to grant a +2 Speed, HP or Defense bonus to an item you have equipped.

Shard Upgrade: Infuse a Shard to an Invention, granting it different upgrade bonuses.

Caster:

Rapid Casting: You may cast a spell for 2 Additional Mana as an Instant Action.

Delayed Spell: You may Delay a Spell for up to a minute to activate after casting.

Counter-Drain: You gain 5 Mana when you Counter a spell.

Favored Spell: Select a spell, reduce its cost by 5 to a minimum of 1 Mana.

Mystic:

Resistance: You gain 20 Points of Armor against Fire, Ice, Electric or Dark Magic. Choose which upon selecting this feat.

Aura Reader: You gain additional information when detecting a magical aura.

Power Shield: You may spend 5 Mana to create a Power Shield that blocks 15 Damage total before breaking. Lasts until expended and stacks with other shield spells.

Ardent Student: You may memorize Scrolls and cast from them without having to equip them.

Dren read over the list and considered his options. The Shard Infusion seemed interesting, but he didn’t have enough shards to really experiment with the various possibilities. Enhance Gear, on the other hand, had no limit to the amount of bonuses gained and he had plenty of gear that he was wearing. Since the infusion lasted a whole week, he could adventure with a boost to plenty of his stats. After some thinking, he decided to take Enhance Gear.

The second feat he chose was Power Shield. This one didn’t take much thought since he could always use a buffer between damage and himself. His defense was high enough, sure, but the tower he had been climbing had many dangers within. And the fact that the shield lasted until used was a real bonus. Certainly worth the feat slot.

After that, his first level Thaumaturge inventions came up, offering him the choices that he didn’t take last time.

You have 2 Schematics! Choose from below!

Level 1 Thaumaturge Schematics

Conjuring: These schematics allow for the Summoning of powerful beings that serve you in various ways.

Binder’s Circle

Description: This metallic circle allows the Artificer to capture an elemental, fairy, demon or spirit, transferring it into a Summon Square. Summon Squares can be used to power inventions, granting bonuses to their function, or they may be used to later Summon the entity to serve you for tasks.

Cost:

100 Red Steel Cubes

25 Blue Nickel Cubes

10 Ethereal Crystal Shards

10 Iron Cubes

Spirit Armor Necklace

Description: This necklace conjures powerful spirit armor that blocks all forms of damage up to 40 points. The armor is reduced each hit.

Cost:

20 Blue Nickel Cubes

5 Dark Crystal Shards

Anti-Spirit Ray

Description: A powerful weapon that deals damage to spirits, ignoring their ethereal state.

Stats:

Range: 50 Feet

Accuracy: 10

Damage: 15

Speed: 3

Targets: 1

Damage Type: Force

Cost:

100 Yellow Band Copper

25 Light Shard Crystals

Wands: A wand is a device that has charges. When utilized, it unleashes a powerful spell.

Ice Skate Wand

Description: This wand grants the user +10 Speed and the ability to skate across solid ground. The skating ignores all terrain and can move across solid water as well.

Charges: 15

Duration: 1 minute

Cost:

25 Ice Cubes

25 Magic Cubes

10 Blue Nickel Cubes

10 Wood Cubes

Forcefield Wand

Description: This wand creates a wall of invisible force that prevents anything from moving through it.

Charges: 5

Range: 20 Feet

Duration: 5 Minutes

Cost:

25 Force Cubes

25 Magic Cubes

10 Green Iron Cubes

10 Wood Cubes

Rings: A ring provides a perpetual bonus or a special power that can be activated at any time. Up to 4 Artifice Rings can be worn at any time.

Ring of Regeneration

Description: This ring heals you 10 HP every minute.

Cost:

25 Earth Cubes

25 Light Cubes

5 Light Crystal Shards

5 Silver Cubes

Ring of Iron Skin

Description: Wearing this Ring grants you 5 Innate Armor that cannot be damaged.

Cost:

25 Heart Cubes

25 Red Steel Cubes

5 Silver Cubes

These schematics offered many different forms of utility but Dren was drawn to the Ring of Regeneration first. He would need to learn how to acquire Light Cubes and Light Crystal Shards but that was always the fun of artifice. The ability to regenerate his health, 10 points per minute, wouldn’t make much of a difference in combat which tended to be counted in seconds, but it would extend his ability to adventure. And so he selected the schematic.

For his other choice, he looked at the Forcefield Wand. Having the power to cast forcefields on demand was useful and allowed him to control the battlefield more. Not to mention that a forcefield could be shaped and placed in different forms, meaning that if there was a trap threatening him from above, he could cast a wall upwards to pass safely. Same for below. It would be useful to have for a variety of reasons, so Dren decided to take it.

His spell list remained the same, so there were no new options there but next level would surely bring about both level 2 spells and schematics. For now he was pleased with what he had selected and looked at his updated character sheet with pride. He was earning quite a bit of XP in the city and 11 was just around the corner!

Chapter 24

Dren rested for the entire evening, studying his new schematics, and slept heavily. By the next day he was feeling fresh enough to get to work on building his new inventions. If the second level of the Abandoned Spire was perilous, then the third level might be downright lethal. There may be more vampires or even worse monsters to deal with. He prided himself on his ability to prepare for the worst and since he now had the tools in his arsenal to face even more trouble, he was going to build them first.

He started his morning by reducing the dragon’s scale that had been given to him. The dragon Grecius had offered it to him for the purpose of crafting, so he didn’t feel bad about the decision. Rather, he felt honored to be able to examine what kind of power was lurking within the scale of a noble dragon.

Dren sat and placed a hand on the scale, focusing his mind and entering a meditative state to break it down. There was immensity within the scale’s energy, a density of power that suggested that not only did the scale serve to protect the dragon but it was in some way a part of the creature’s very magical being.

It took four hours to reduce it but he sat quietly the whole time, attuning to the object until finally, he was greeted with a bevy of cubes and even some shards.

Reduction Success! You have gained the following:

100 Smoke Cubes

50 Heart Cubes

25 Dragon Cubes

15 Fire Shards

10 Dexterity Shards

Smoke cubes! Dren couldn’t believe his luck! The Grey Dragon itself must have had great mastery over the smokes and fire that it could breathe forth at a moment’s notice. He checked the requirements for the Vanishing Ring to see what it needed in order to be created.

Cost:

50 Smoke Cubes

10 Dark Crystal Shards

5 Silver Cubes

He had everything required to create the ring! This was going to be a real treat, for it would give him supreme mobility in combat scenarios and if grappled, he wouldn’t have to grease himself up again. He could just vanish from their grasp and to a more advantageous position.

Dren eagerly set about crafting the ring. This was child’s play compared to the rest of the inventions that he had made earlier. All he had to do was smith the Silver cubes into a ring and then infuse the Smoke cubes. Once they were infused, he studded four sides with the Dark Crystal shards, then fused the remaining six into the ring.

The Vanishing Ring was completed! It had 10 charges and would be perfect for any situation where he was in a corner. He slipped it around his left index finger, proudly examining it. The thing looked quite fetching in the daylight.

Speaking of daylight, his mind then turned to the question of how he was going to find Light cubes and Light shards that were required for the Ring of Regeneration. And the Force cubes…he would need to purchase something that had powerful force attached to it, so perhaps a trip to the magic market?

No, the magic market would be far too expensive for his blood. He had 1,400 DriftCoins in pocket, not a wild amount and he could only imagine the markup on the good magical items. Even then, artifice involved a lot of guesswork, as reducing items didn’t guarantee what he would get or in what quantity. It would suck to spend a fortune on a force item only to find out it produced a few Force cubes and an excess of Magic cubes.

Dren pondered what he was going to do as he dressed for the day. Before he left, he took some time to use his new feat, Enhance Gear, to distribute some bonuses. His Autogauntlet was enchanted to add +2 to his Defense, bringing it up to 9, his backpack was blessed to grant +2 HP and his Scuttleboots were given the honor of increasing his Speed, granting him 5 total points. It was a pleasure to be able to wave a hand and expend a minimal amount of mana for a week-long bonus.

The first stop Dren made was to the Synchronicity Guild to turn in the Stone. The guild rep was delighted to see him return and even more so when she saw the stone. Examination of the stone had revealed that it enhanced the general magic properties of timekeeping, nothing groundbreaking but apparently it would improve the accuracy of a watch or a clock by .10 seconds. He earned 500 DriftCoins for the work but no rank increase.

In addition to the pay, Dren received 1,500 XP, bringing him up to 1,900 already. 10,000 points would go by very, very quickly.

After that, he headed to the Lavender Market in order to find something that would grant him the cubes he so sought after. The market was massive and there were hundreds of shops present. Something would have to yield the results he was looking for.

The crowded markets were full of half-baked magical goods for sale, all for very cheap prices, but Dren had a suspicion from the lack of aura on most of them that they weren’t particularly functional. He spent most of the morning going from shop to shop, eyes bugging out at the prices of proper magical items and his sense of poverty growing more and more.

Back in Arthursberg he had been considered wealthy, as his shop was generating sales here and there and gold was the standard. But here, the price of everything except for food and crafting goods was way higher than he wanted them to be. Marvin would probably have a field day discovering that even a level 1 wand sold for several thousand more than his shop offered. Not to mention the conversion rate to gold being in favor of DriftCoins. He better not mention it to the man or else he might close up shop and move to the big city to get rich.

As Dren wandered from stall to stall, a sign hanging from one of the alleys caught his eye. He blinked a few times, trying to comprehend what he was reading. Ariel’s Artifice, Cheap Goods, Good Magical Items and Great Customer Service.

An Artificer shop? Thoughts of all the things he was told about Artificers by random people swirled in his head. There was no way this place was legitimate, right? But…but…what if it was? What if he finally found someone who was just like him? Someone who was an Artificer proper, able to reduce and build with elements themselves.

His legs started walking on their own accord, towards the sign. There was an arrow pointed to the left and so he walked left, down a wide alley where a homeless fellow was begging for coins. Dren tossed a few into the man’s overturned hat as he walked to the very end of the alley where a dilapidated building was sitting. The sign was clear, Ariel’s Artifice, though it was hanging off the side, threatening to fall down at any moment.

The doorbell jangled as Dren entered. He looked around and saw…cubes! There were hundreds, no, thousands of cubes everywhere. Lining the walls, on shelves, in cabinets and cases. Cubes everywhere as far as the eye could see and his artifice abilities immediately registered them as real. He couldn’t believe his eyes, was he dreaming?

“Welcome!” a young woman, about Dren’s age, said popping up from behind the shop counter. She was wearing goggles like his, though they weren’t as thick. She was a slender girl, with long brown hair that ran past her shoulders. Her bangs were singed as if she had been in an explosion. She wore a thick brown apron with all manner of clocks studded into them. They were ticking away, steam occasionally bursting out of them.

“Are…” Dren trailed off, taking a moment to compose himself. He put both hands on the counter and leaned forward as if exchanging secrets. “Are you an Artificer?”

“You bet!” she proudly said, puffing out her chest. “The finest one in the city! I’m Level 3 and super skilled at all manner of convenience crafting. Behold! The autofork!” She pulled out a long fork that had a handle that was bulky and made of copper. It spun around wildly. “Need to eat fast? Well this baby will feed you faster than ever before! Scarf down that chicken before anyone can get their hands on it!”

Dren blinked a few times at the asinine design. But still, she was a genuine artificer, right? “I’ve heard stories that your kind was all liars and con-artists,” Dren said. “But you…your store…everything looks in order.”

“Eh, there are always disbelievers, but my artifacts speak for themselves. Wanna see the Spoonmaster 3000?” she asked.

“No, I’m fine,” Dren said. “I’m Dren…and I am an Artificer as well.”

“Oh cool! Pleased to meet you, Dren. I’m Ariel and this is my shop. What are you in here for?”

“I have so many questions,” Dren started. “I thought I was alone in all of this. How did you gain this power? Where did you learn your class?”

Ariel chuckled. “You seem flabbergasted. Please, come in the back and sit down.”

Dren followed her into a back chamber were a few mechanical hands were slowly crafting hammers and chisels. They looked like threadbare versions of his Autogauntlet. “I thought you may be an Artificer because of your metal hand and the goggles, but it’s rare to meet our kind,” she said. “I sell most of my stuff to people who are looking for ways to add convenience to their life.” They sat at a table and the girl grabbed his metal arm, pulling it front and center.

“Would you look at this thing!” she said. “Seems you’ve improved drastically on the autohand system. What a design!”

“Thanks,” Dren said, enjoying the attention to his glove that was more than just people commenting on how strange it was. “I worked really hard on it.”

“I can tell. Seems you’re using it in place of your regular arm. But it’s encased inside, that’s a special design,” Ariel replied. “So what do you wanna know?”

“Where did you learn this?” Dren asked.

Ariel took in a deep breath and sighed. “Aw, it’s not a great story. My parents were both pretty poor and we lived in the Grey District. Life was tough on everyone. Eventually they got sick and the Clerics couldn’t cure them, so they died leaving me an orphan at fifteen. From there I was kicked out of our small apartment and I had to wander the streets.

“Life didn’t get much better after that for a long time. I stole to survive, scavenged and crafted small things to sell on the streets. People usually bought out of pity and things were tough. But then, one day when I was about nineteen, I was outside of a tavern, rummaging through the trash when I overheard two mages laughing. They were mocking this book they had found in their guild library, reading portions out loud and making fun of it. Eventually one of the mages tossed it in the trash can, saying the theories belonged in there.

“Never one to waste, I quickly opened it up and started to read through it. I still have that book, it’s dear to my heart. It’s called Landred’s Guide to Artifice and Its Principles. It was a book for beginners. I didn’t have much to read back home, or at least in that hovel I called home, but I couldn’t put it down. It talked about all sorts of things, how every item was made up of elements and how they were used to create objects. The mages might have scoffed at it but I studied long and hard. I read it cover to cover three times and tried to make a few items on my own, but didn’t have the class so it didn’t work.”

“How did you get the XP for a class level then?” Dren inquired.

“Ah! Well, I found a group of thieves who had a job that required someone skinny enough to fit inside of an air vent. The job was dangerous but they were willing to pay me a lot of money. So I did it and what do you know, it actually gained me XP, enough so to hit level 1! After that, I studied the book once more and voila! I became the Artificer that you know today,” Ariel explained. “Once I had the power to reduce items, I built these goggles and got to work. Set up a crafting table where I sold random devices to people who were interested in consumer goods. I tried to make higher quality magic items but the trouble was always gaining the material. Eventually I saved up enough to buy this old building in the alley and here we are!”

“And you sell cubes too?” Dren asked.

“Yup! Artificers aren’t the only people who buy cubes. A lot of crafters who are making special items are attracted to the color and way they are pliable. Most of the time they’re mundane folks who are just looking for nifty jewelry to add to their creations. No one really takes this place seriously, but I make enough to pay rent and eat, so that’s something,” Ariel said.

Dren decided to tell his own tale to her. She listened with eagerness as he recounted how he had met the Artificer who had gifted him with the goggles and the class level. When he finished, she spoke.

“Wow, so you have a whole operation set up in Arthursberg?” she asked.

“Indeed, if you’re looking for somewhere else to be, you would have your own workshop space back at my Den,” Dren said. “You can meet my goblin friends and my girlfriend, Salla. We also have a regular shop, so you can still sell things as you like.”

Ariel chuckled at that. “I’m afraid Drift City is my home. Sure, I don’t have the highest position in society and no one takes my work as anything worth caring about, but it’s home.”

“Well, the offer is always open,” Dren replied. He had to ask if she’d join but figured she wouldn’t take the bait. A shame, but still, it was nice to meet another Artificer. Even if she was only low level and made mostly useless junk. “So then, may I browse your cube selection?”

“Please!” she eagerly said, climbing up and escorting him back to the front of the store. There Dren began to look around and was thrilled with his discovery. There were cubes of every kind that he could think of, hundreds of each variety. And the prices! Each one was priced at 5 DriftCoins, regardless of the type. No doubt she wasn’t making much money as an Artificer with such low prices.

Dren found Force cubes aplenty and grabbed thirty of them, then turned his attention to getting Light cubes. He found a shard department where the shards were less plentiful but there were enough Light shards to do the job. They came at 25 DriftCoins each, a bit more expensive but still a steal. He searched for Heart cubes and found them as well.

“You really have everything I need,” Dren said as he filled his basket. “Can you tell me where Heart cubes come from?”

“I’m afraid that is a trade secret,” Ariel replied. “If I were to tell ya, you’d just go out and find them for yourself.”

“Aw come on, aren’t we friends?” Dren pleaded. “I’ve already gotten quite a few things that I have no intention of scavenging.”

“Fine, fine, but you can’t go get them yourself,” she replied. “Monster hearts! I’ve got the Butchery skill which allows me to reduce carcasses and corpses. A monster heart isn’t hard to come by so I just get them wholesale from a guy I know and reduce them.”

“I should have learned Butchery,” Dren muttered. “With the number of monsters I face, there are plenty of them to harvest.”

“But then you wouldn’t have to come here and buy!” Ariel countered.

Dren finished loading up his supply, finding the Red Steel cubes and Green Iron clustered together. He placed the basket up on the counter and Ariel examined it. “You’re buying a lot!” she squealed in delight. “Oh man, I think I can make rent just off your purchases.”

“How much do I owe you?” Dren asked.

“Seven hundred should cover it,” Ariel said. “I’ll bag them up.”

Dren and Ariel got to talking about the various projects they were working on and the afternoon seemed to fly by. It was nice talking to the one person in the world who seemed to know what was going on with the artifice class and she happily showed him her workshop in the basement below. They got to chatting more and before Dren knew it, the sound for third shift called out.

“Ah, man!” Ariel exclaimed upon hearing the sound. “We’ve been talking for hours! I wish I could stay and talk even more about your projects but I’ve got an important meeting to go to.”

Dren was sitting at a table, enjoying a fine port that she had poured for them, when he noticed something terrible. Ariel was in the process of donning a blood red cloak that she had retrieved from a cabinet. He jumped in his seat and stood.

“What are you wearing?” he gasped.

“Do you like it?” Ariel asked, turning around in place to allow the cloak to flow. “It’s for our meetings.”

“You’re…part…” Dren started to wheeze. This delightful young woman was part of the Cult of the Red?

“I just joined a group that is fascinating. They promised me access to greater schematics and resources because of my class. I thought they were joking at first, but they treat me really well,” Ariel said. “You okay, Dren? You’re looking terribly pale.”

“That group. The Cult of the Red, they aren’t good people,” Dren said, mustering the courage to speak out.

“Oh please, they’re fine folks. I just joined a few days ago. There’s a food bank that they operate and they give out really good quality food, I’m talking sandwiches and bags of meat for anyone in need. I hate to rely on food banks in general but they don’t make you ashamed. They say it’s part of their sacred duty to help the misfortunate,” Ariel explained.

“You have no idea who these people are, Ariel,” Dren said. “They’re—”

“They’re my new friends,” she replied. “And besides…I’ve seen something miraculous.”

Dren gritted his teeth. “What kind of miracle?” he inquired. Had she seen the power of the Fire Below yet? Was her will drained or was she just in the starting phases of becoming a part of their organization, unaware of what waited for her in the Underground Apartments?

“There was this guy I knew, Lame Tom, had a bum leg and couldn’t get around anywhere. Clerics couldn’t heal it because it was from some kind of industrial accident years ago. He was a beggar and while I never had a coin to give, I always tried to be nice to the man. Then one day, I saw him at the food bank, walking freely. Every step seemed to carry such joy, no crutch, no hobbling. And so I asked what happened and he, with tears in his eyes, said that he was saved by the great Fire Below. The Hosts for all they claim to be, are nothing compared to a god, Dren. That man was cured and by golly, I think that’s worth noticing.”

Chapter 25

Ariel would not listen to any form of Dren’s protests. He tried to tell her that the organization she had recently joined was terrible, that they weren’t who they pretended to be but she merely laughed it off. She told him he was too anxious and that there was nothing to worry about. Dren didn’t have time to warn her about the darker things, partly because he feared telling her his relationship to the cult. But it was a moot point because she was off to her meeting, no worries in her head.

Dren staggered outside of the shop, unable to handle what he had just seen. That poor woman would end up trapped sooner or later. Or worse, she might come to like the terrible things that they preached. But what could he do? Worse yet, he had given her a card containing the information leading to his workshop, so that she could visit and see a proper Artificer’s playground. What was supposed to be a new friendship may turn into a real danger, with her knowing how to get to him. If the cult was searching for him…

It was dark out in the Lavender District. The night markets were located a few blocks away but this part of the city was closed for the evening. Dren’s head was filled with worries about Ariel and the cult’s activity, distracting him a little too much. As he walked down an alley leading towards his workshop, there was a subtle flow of air behind him.

The next thing Dren knew, there was immense pain. A terrible sound first, a loud hissing next, and then utter agony. Something slashed his right arm hard, right at the intersection between the upper forearm and his gauntlet. It was a brutal cut that went right through bone, effortlessly severing his Autogauntlet and arm from his shoulder.

“Aghh!” Dren cried out, the pain overwhelming him. The blow had crashed right through his personal shield and had been targeted to ignore his recently repaired Tinkerer’s Armor. He saw the limb fall to the side and gasped.

Something grabbed him from behind and slammed him to the ground. A hand pressed hard against his head, pushing his face into the brick ground. “Did you think that I was somehow trapped in that tower, Dren?” a familiar voice said. It belonged to none other than the Lady herself. Her left hand held his good arm down, pinning him to the floor.

Dren had not realized the vampiress could leave the tower. What a foolish oversight that had been.

“Your scent was everywhere in that tower, your sweat, your fear!” she hissed, savoring the moment of triumph over him. “You thought you could just waltz in, kill my sires, free my dragon and then get away with it?”

Dren didn’t respond; he was still reeling from the pain of his lost arm. He tried to push her off but she was too strong.

“You are going to make for a fine vampire,” she continued. “That arm of yours will grow back. But first, I am going to savor every drop of blood I can suck from you.”

Adrenaline began to pump through Dren. The vampiress lowered her head to the back of his neck, but he had other tools. Namely, his Vanishing Ring. “You want a meal?” he glowered, activating the ring. In an instant, he vanished and reappeared ten feet away from her. “Come get it!”

The Lady, who was wearing a black cloak that covered her entire body, rushed forward at supernatural speeds, and grabbed Dren by the throat. She lifted him high in the air. “Nice trick,” she said. “But did you think that a mere few feet of distance would spare you? You are being quite obstinate for receiving a high honor.”

Dren went to activate his ring again, and teleported away once more, but it was just as useless as the first time. The Lady was on him even faster, catching him by the neck and lifting him up one more. “How pitiful you are. We can do this a few more times,” she said. “You can warp away and maybe get a little closer to your destination, but those charges aren’t infinite. My speed is.”

The Artificer had an idea. It was a risk but it was one he needed to take, as he had no other options. He teleported once more, positioning the area of reappearance precisely. She was on him in a heartbeat, seizing him again.

“This is starting to become fun, like a game,” the Lady hissed. She bared her fangs. “But all games come to an end. Do not think of this as your end, Dren. Think of it as your glorious new beginning.”

Her fangs extended and she went to drain Dren, savoring the moment as he dangled helpless in her clutches. Right before her jaws closed around Dren’s neck, the neck that was not wearing the silver coif or holding a holy ward, damn his lack of foresight, she stiffened. Eyes wide with lack of comprehension.

Behind her, positioned perfectly for a shot at her heart, was his Autogauntlet. She had made a fatal mistake in assuming that the gauntlet needed to be attached to work. The metal hand had rolled itself over and pushed its fingers up to gain a perfect angle of fire. While she had been busy gloating, Dren had moved her right into its range. A desperate action, but one that seemed to work, for the Stake Launcher had fired from his mental commands.

The vampiress did not die from the staking, however. She merely froze, eyes wide and mouth unable to continue lowering itself. Her grasp was weakened and Dren slipped out, watching as she fell forward, crashing onto the ground.

Gasping for air and still in agony from his now missing arm, Dren used his good arm to draw his sword. “This may not be the end for me,” he said, “but it is for you.” And with that, he slashed as hard as he could across her exposed neck, severing her head from its body.

There was utter silence and then, the vampire turned to ash, her entire body dissolving into a fine powder. Greater Vampire Slain! 3,000 XP gained! appeared in his vision. It was over. The Lady would no longer be posing a threat to him, or anyone else for that matter.

Dren’s stump was bleeding profusely but thankfully his hit points weren’t draining very quickly, one of the advantages of being such high level. He quickly gathered his arm and rushed towards the infirmary, trying to remember how to get there. Fortunately, a guard noticed his injury and was quick to field dress the wound before escorting him to one of the closest medical centers.

The next few hours were a blur for Dren. He was brought to Alonzo’s Medical Ward where he was quickly greeted by a team of Clerics. They examined his wound and were surprised at the accuracy and cleanliness of the cut. “A blade of that quality left you in a good condition for reattachment,” the head Cleric, Roso, had told him. A high level Cleric was dispatched to cast a powerful healing spell that rejoined the shoulder to the arm, a process that was not painless to say the least.

When all was said and done, Dren’s arm was saved and he was able to use it again. The wounds from his accident so long ago remained, of course, and that limb was of limited functionality but the Autogauntlet was still as good as before. He was sent home to rest and recover.

The Lady had failed to kill Dren and he had taken her life instead. The injury was undone though Dren had a terrible sharp pain in his shoulder from the ordeal. He was told the pain would subside after a few days. Until then, he would have to rest. He took the Cleric’s orders seriously and went straight to bed upon getting home, drinking a fine pain tonic known as whiskey to shake off the nerves and to sleep.

Chapter 26

Dren awoke in the morning to the sound of frantic banging on his door. The last night had seemed like a dream but the pain in his shoulder reminded him that it was all too real. He wondered who would be visiting him. Still exhausted from a night of tossing and turning on an arm that was hurting severely, Dren climbed out of bed and grabbed a robe, throwing it on before heading to the door.

Much to his surprise, it was Ariel at the door. The girl was not wearing her goggles today and was sobbing violently. “Please, open up!” she had cried as Dren unlocked the door and pulled it to see who was on the other side.

“Ariel?” Dren asked, shocked to see her again so soon.

“Oh Hosts, Dren, you were right!” she sobbed, grabbing him and pulling herself close to hist chest. “You were right!”

“Come on in,” Dren said, cradling the sobbing woman as he pulled her back into his apartment. “What happened?”

Ariel was bruised a little, her face sporting a mark on the upper lip that indicated that she had been in some kind of scuffle. When she recovered from her sobbing enough to let go of him, she threw herself onto the couch in the corner of the workshop.

“My meeting, oh it all went so wrong!” Ariel sobbed. “I went there to just be a part of something but…oh it was terrible.”

“Take a minute to breathe,” Dren advised, handing her a handkerchief. She blew her nose and dabbed her eyes, then took a very deep breath.

“The meeting was supposed to be a place to learn and grow as people, but it was so much worse than I could imagine. They had a big pyre set up and lit the fire, calling upon their god to arrive. But then the leader, Chetnay, she said that something was wrong. That the Fire Below would not come forth without a worthy sacrifice. And then…oh it was horrible!” Ariel paused to blow her nose again. Dren hurried to pour her a drink to steady her nerves while she took a moment to catch her breath.

She slugged the whiskey down fast and continued. “From the group, one of the men who was not all there in the head, I don’t know he never spoke much and only seemed to stare forward for most of the meetings…he was called by Chetnay. The woman demanded that he walk into the fire to bring forth their god. I thought it was some kind of test but…but he did! He walked up the steps onto the podium and mindlessly wandered straight into the flames. He didn’t even scream! The fire consumed him and then…oh then it happened.”

“You heard a voice,” Dren said.

“Yes, a voice,” she muttered. “A terrible voice that spoke out loud. It said that it was pleased by the devotion that was shown but it wanted more. And then people were grabbed at random, dragged up to the fire and thrown in. The flames grew higher and higher, but the entire place wouldn’t burn, no matter how high the fire rose. I knew that I had to get out but there were guards at the door. They tried to stop me from leaving, one of them even punched me in the head.”

“How did you escape?” Dren asked.

“I used a flashbang that I designed, something to help me escape from thieves and muggers. It’s a little device that emits light and noises that overwhelm everyone around you. They grabbed my goggles in the scuffle and I had to leave them behind. I didn’t know where else to go but you…you warned me.”

“So you came straight here?” Dren asked.

“Yes, I didn’t know what else to do.”

Dren felt a sense of dread well up within him. If she came straight here then it might mean…

Just as he was thinking it, there was a pounding on the door. “Ah great,” Dren muttered. He quickly went into his bedroom and donned his armor, grabbing his sword with his mechanical hand. The arm inside was aching from the pain of getting dressed so quickly but he didn’t have much of a choice.

The pounding continued and Ariel hid in the corner, cowering in terror. “Let me handle this,” Dren said as he approached the door, Autocannons ready. He opened it up slightly to see three men in red cloaks standing before him.

“Greetings sir,” the leader, a hunched fellow with a missing arm said. “I don’t mean to disturb you so early in the morning, but we were wondering if perhaps one of our friends was here.”

“No one’s here,” Dren said, trying to close the door. One of the others slid his foot in the way, blocking it from shutting.

“We don’t mean to disturb you but she was feeling quite sickly. She left our fold in a panic and we just need to be sure that she’s okay,” another said. He was heavily tattooed and Dren’s aura reading picked up magical energy upon the tattoos. He could sense enhanced strength and the ability to cast spells. This was going to get messy.

“No one is here,” Dren said. “This is just my workshop, I work alone and don’t have guests.”

The men all looked at each other. The leader spoke, clearing his throat. “Sir, I don’t want this to go the wrong way. We are positive that she came here. Let us in, so we may tend to her. She is part of our family and…” he trailed off, allowing the threat to float in the air.

Dren tried to shove the one with his foot in the door back, but he caught the mechanical arm, tattoos flaring with bright red energy. In an instant, Dren was tossed backwards onto his ass as they barged in.

Ariel let out a scream as they spotted her. “There you are!” the leader shouted. “Grab her, now!”

Dren climbed to his feet and tried to intervene. The tattooed one pushed him back once more and drew a dagger, threatening the Artificer. “Don’t get involved if you don’t want to get cut.”

Dren responded to this threat by slashing his own blade at the cultist, who dodged backwards, the blade narrowly missing him. “Oh, we’ve got a lively one, don’t we?” the tattooed man mocked.

The Artificer couldn’t use his cannons in such close range, not without fear of the explosion hitting other things that might cause a chain reaction. Instead, he raised his good hand and cast Spell Bolt. Twin bolts of force energy came crashing out from his palm, striking the tattooed man in the chest, dealing 20 damage. One of the tattoos gleamed and the man grew bigger, his muscles bulging out of his arms and his chest growing broader.

The other two went to flank Dren; they surrounded him in his workshop and he changed angles rapidly.

“You’re outnumbered and outclassed, fool,” the tattooed man taunted. “Just give up and let us take her. You’ll be better off for it in the end.”

“Over my dead body,” Dren replied as he advanced towards one suddenly, slashing his sword down. At the height of the swing, his shoulder burned and he winced. This slowed him down enough so that the one he was targeting could dodge.

The tattooed man raised a hand and released a torrent of flames towards Dren. The fire washed over his body and he was wracked with agony as his HP dropped down to 16, the magical damage ignoring his armor.

In reaction to this, Dren used his Vanishing Ring to reposition. He teleported right behind one of the cultists without magical protection and thrust his sword in from the back, piercing the man’s torso. This dealt 7 points of damage to the intruder, who dropped to the floor instantly.

“He killed Boris!” the leader shouted. “He’s got class levels!”

Dren responded by charging at the leader and cutting towards his head. The man dodged out of the way but tripped over the coffee table behind him, crashing into the ground. Dren’s bad arm was burning and he felt it go limp. He tried to raise his blade but the mechanical hand wasn’t in control of the entire arm, unfortunately, so he had no leverage.

“Seems you aren’t working so well these days,” the tattooed man said. An aura charged around his hand as one of the tattoos began to gleam. “Let’s see how you fare against the Fire Below!”

Dren decided to try his hand at counterspelling. He activated the skill as soon as the tattooed assailant cast his own. Counterspell Succeeded! appeared in his vision as the flames began to pour forth from his foe’s hand. Magical energies washed from Dren’s extended fingers, strangling the fire where it stood.

The bulky man laughed at that and charged forward, slamming into Dren. He was thrown backwards, tripping over a stool that had been by the workbench. As he clattered to the floor, the tattooed fellow stepped on his throat. Dren’s arm was in agony and he couldn’t lift it. The reattachment spell needed a few days to reconfigure everything and it was useless.

“Maybe we should take this freak with us,” he said. “Grab the girl and let’s get out of here.”

At that moment, the door opened and none other than Garis entered. “Woah, what in the hell is going on here?” he asked.

Both of the cultists turned around to face the love wizard. The leader with the missing arm drew out his iron dagger and pointed it at the middle-aged fellow. “You have no reason to be here, get the hell out.”

Garis looked at the downed Dren and back at the cultists. He raised his hands to show he was no threat. “Hey now, we’re all friends here, right?”

Dren could see a subtle spell activate. A wash of pink magic moved from the wizard’s fingers and surrounded the heads of both cultists. They paused for a moment, in a daze. “And don’t we all love our friends?”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re friends,” the one with the missing arm said. “Right?”

“Friends,” the tattooed man agreed. He pulled his boot off of Dren.

“And friends don’t fight each other, right?” Garis asked, his voice gentle and soothing. The two looked at each other.

“Why are we fighting with him?” the tattooed man asked. “He’s our friend.”

The charm spell was working and they were quickly lulled into a sense of complacency. “Now, why don’t we all just relax and have a drink,” Garis said, reaching into his robe and producing a bottle. The liquid within was murky. “And we can all talk about our differences.”

The tattooed man reached for the bottle first. “I don’t know what we were all worked up about,” he confessed, uncorking the bottle and taking a hearty drink from it. He then extended it to the armless leader.

The leader took it without hesitation and drank some down. The two staggered for a moment and then collapsed on the ground, dead unconscious.

“Garis! Of all the people in the world to save my ass, I didn’t think it would be you,” Dren said.

“A love wizard meets many angry customers who are dismayed about certain promises on certain labels,” Garis replied as he bent down to help Dren up. The Artificer groaned as his right arm burned in agony from the movement. “You okay? I figured a guy like you would make short work of these fellows.”

“Had a bad night and I’m injured,” Dren replied. “I wasn’t expecting an attack.”

Ariel looked at the sleeping man. “Are they dead?”

“Afraid I don’t specialize in poisoning people, this is just a refreshing elixir that will soothe their fears, remove their worries and cure any venereal diseases they might be carrying,” Garis said. “In a few hours, they’ll be back to normal.”

“And back to trying to kill us,” Dren said, taking his sword with his other hand. He raised it above the leader’s exposed chest but Garis grabbed his hand.

“Come on now,” he said. “Is murder the best way to solve this problem?”

“These cultists know where I live and they’re after Ariel,” Dren replied. “I’m afraid this is in self-defense.”

“There are better ways to dispose of your foes than killing, especially if their absence will be noticed by their leaders,” Garis countered. “Let’s just call for the city guard. They’ll be in prison and no one will have to die.”

Dren sighed and relented. “Fine, you go call the guard.”

“On it!” the wizard said.

“And thank you for sticking your neck out to help me,” Dren said. “I never would have thought a love wizard would be the one to save me in the nick of time.”

“You have no idea how often I hear that line.”

Chapter 27

Dren netted 1,500 XP from the encounter. The city guard arrived once the call was made and after the three of them, Dren, Ariel and Garis explained that it was an attempted kidnapping, arrests were made. The sleeping cultists were taken away to prison and the body was hauled to the morgue. The guards were helpful here, making no threats towards Dren or inferring anything.

One made a comment to his companion as they left, the tattooed man in their custody. “More blood cloaks making noise, that’s the third one this week. When is the city going to get on this?”

Garis returned to his workshop, leaving the two Artificers alone. Ariel was shaken up quite badly and Dren was in agony from his injury. The pair sat across from each other in the workshop, she nursing a bottle of whiskey and he his shoulder.

“I’m sorry that I came here,” Ariel whispered after some time. “I didn’t know they’d try to follow me and hurt you.”

“I think on some level, you knew they were coming after you,” Dren said. “But don’t worry about it. This isn’t the first time I’ve encountered them. They are a somewhat persistent plague in this city.”

“I can make it up to you,” Ariel said. “Let me help you in your shop. I don’t think it’s safe to go home for some time.”

“I’m not much of a shop worker in reality,” Dren replied. “I’m an adventurer by trade and right now I’m trying to recover something serious from the Abandoned Spire. You’re free to stay here if you wish, but you’re going to be mostly alone.”

“Then let me come with you!” she said. “I’m only Level 3 but I can help. I’m handy with locks and getting into and out of tight spaces.”

“The Spire is no place for low level Artificers,” Dren answered. “I’m sorry, Ariel, but you’re going to have to be alone. Maybe Garis would be happy to take you in. He saved us once before. And I’m sure you would have a lot to learn about uh, potions and stuff.”

“I’m so scared,” she whispered. “I don’t know what’s going to happen to me.”

“Drift City is a big place, is there nowhere else you could hide for a while? They know about here, or at least they will once they bail their friends out of prison.”

Ariel shook her head no. Dren pondered this for a moment and fished a card out of his pocket. “This is the apartment number for my friend Orlin, he’s a mage and lives in the Synchronicity Guild’s tower. I should think of all the places the Cult would be less likely to attack, that would be it,” he said, handing her the card. “Take it to Orlin and tell him that I asked that he house you for a while. That should be good enough.”

“And what about you?” she asked.

“I’ll be fine on my own,” Dren said. “I just need to rest a bit more and then I’m going back out into the adventuring field…”

Ariel took the card and thanked Dren for his help before heading out to see Orlin. Dren returned to resting for a few days. Was it a risk to stay in the workshop now that the Cult knew where he was? Perhaps, but Dren didn’t have the energy to go traveling over to the Emerald District right now. His arm was aching and barely worked.

Thankfully, three days of taking it easy and not using it seemed to restore it to its former glory. His shoulder still ached a bit and the scar was there to stay, but everything seemed way more functional.

Once he was feeling better, he unpacked the things he had purchased from Ariel’s shop and set about the task of crafting two more items. First was the Forcefield Wand. This was just as simple as the Fireball Wand and it took him less than a day to put together. After that was the precious Ring of Regeneration, a project that took him two days to figure out, as it was a bit more complex than the first ring he had built.

By the end of the week, he was feeling sturdy and ready for adventure. There was no more activity from the Cult of the Red, leading him to feel a bit bad about sending Ariel away. But at the same time, the lack of activity may have been due to the fact that she was somewhere else and hopefully safer.

Dren geared up and made his way to the Grey District. Things were different in the air and he could sense the people’s spirits were higher. There was a party going on in the street, people gathered around, passing flagons of ale and gin to one another as they celebrated.

“What’s going on?” Dren asked to a nearby reveler, a tall fellow who was rather drunk despite it being the early morning.

The red nosed man laughed heartily. “The great danger is finally gone! Up in the Abandoned Spire, there was a cruel and evil vampiress who would send her minions out to feast upon us. We tried many times to get adventurers to clear out the second level, to take her down but…but it always failed. Until yesterday afternoon, in which a group of warriors went out to handle it. But lo and behold, my friend! The vampiress was gone from her crypt! The feral vampires who served her dead or weak, unable to defend themselves.”

Dren’s eyebrows lifted up. “You’re speaking of the Lady.”

“Yes! That was her name,” the man replied, trying to hand his drink to Dren, who graciously declined. “Whoever slew her is a hero!”

Dren resisted the urge to tell the man that it was he who had taken her down. Not that the drunken reveler would believe him. He continued speaking. “I envy the man, for he has a great reward waiting for him at the quest hall.”

This perked up the Artificer’s attention even more. “A reward?”

“Indeed! A one of a kind blade, offered by a veteran adventurer who lost his entire party to the beasts. He posted it months ago but none have ever collected on it. I should think that whoever gets the sword will be most pleased with themselves.”

Now Dren had sufficient reason to take credit for the thing he had done himself! He excused himself from the man and pushed through the throng of people who were busy hoisting up a crude dummy made of straw; an effigy that they were preparing to burn.

He made his way to a nearby quest hall, one in a building that was covered in rust and had barred windows on the outside. A bored looking man was sitting behind the counter of a large windowed box, identical to the other quest halls in the city. Dren approached, unsure of how to go about this.

“Yes?” the attendant asked.

“Hey there,” Dren said, leaning against the counter. “I was the one who slew the Lady.”

“You are the fourth person to claim that today,” the man said.

Dren was unsure of how he was going to prove this but the man interrupted him before he could get a word out. “Quest book please.”

The Artificer quickly produced his booklet and handed it to the man. He flipped from the front to the back and looked at something. His eyes lit up. “Oho!” he said cheerily, demeanor changing instantly. “It says here that you slew a greater vampire.”

Dren didn’t know that the quest book also tracked his XP gains.

“Well, there was only one around in this area, the Lady herself. How’d you manage to do it?”

“A stake to the heart and a quick beheading,” Dren replied.

“Very keen,” the man said. He excused himself for a moment and scuttled to the back. Minutes later he came back with a sturdy case. “As the bounty posted, whoever is responsible for slaying the Lady will be the recipient of a special weapon. No cash unfortunately but then again, I suppose this thing is worth its weight in DriftCoins.”

Dren took the case and opened it up. Within he saw a cutlass with a gleaming rune on the side of it. The sword was made of silver with a green handle and a red jewel on the pommel. It shimmered with magical energies as his Identify skill scanned the item.

Cutlass of Agara

Description: This powerful blade has been enchanted with a rune that increases the wielder’s speed and overall defenses.

Bonus: + 4 Speed, +3 Defense

Stats:

Range: Melee

Damage: 15

Accuracy: 10

Speed: 5

Targets: 1

Damage Type: Magical, Piercing

Value: 8,000 Driftcoins

Dren marveled at the weapon. This was certainly a cut above his regular sword, which only dealt seven damage a hit. The extra speed and defense were also handy. He picked the blade up and felt the weight. It was well balanced and seemed to move itself through the air. The weapon came with a scabbard as well and so Dren took some time to equip it. The other sword wasn’t worth wasting his time on, so he handed it to a homeless fellow, telling him he could sell it for money.

Once he was finished with getting the Cutlass of Agara, Dren headed to the Abandoned Spire. The place was more or less the same, though there was now a hole in the wall on the second floor, allowing the sun to shine in. Dren remembered the noble dragon and how it had heroically broken through that wall in order to save them both.

Sword in one hand, Wand of Forcefield in the other, Dren headed back into the vertical dungeon, making his way up to the third floor. He was determined that today would be the day he found the Psychometry Department and nothing would stop him in his quest.

Chapter 28

Getting to the third floor was easy, now that the vampires were all gone. The death of a Greater Vampire always caused the lesser spawn to lose their power and become weak and fragile. An adventuring party had gone in to explore and had cut down the remainder of the horde, leaving the second level quiet and without trouble. This allowed Dren to make his way up three flights of stairs to the office level where the Synchronicity Guild once operated.

The main door was barred from the outside, indicating that someone had the sense to lock the place up before leaving once and for all. Dren unbarred the door and swung it open, revealing a large lobby with a broken fountain in the center.

The fountain was once of a cherub, cheerfully pouring water into the basin, but now the cherub’s head was split and his jug that poured the water was shattered. There was greenish ooze in the basin and Dren got a sense that he wasn’t alone. In the distance, he could hear gurgling. The place was terribly dark and so he lit his lantern, raising it up high to illuminate the area.

Floor 3 Discovered! There are 3 Zones!

Zone 1: 1 Anomaly

Zone 2: 0 Anomalies

Zone 3: 2 Anomalies

Dren was in the first zone. It would seem that this area wasn’t too expansive. But he wasn’t here to clear Zones, he was here to find the vault that would grant him access to the records and archives of psychometry magic. This was the key to finding the murderer. And now that he was a classic caster, he could probably use scrolls if there were any available.

As he entered the lobby, his eyes quickly noticed a large, bulky figure behind the fountain. It was a monster! The beast was four legged and quite large, with huge grey claws and a forked tail. The head was oval with four eyes on it and it possessed a circular maw that dripped green liquid. His scanners quickly informed him of what he was facing.

Danger Detected!

Basilisk!

Stats:

HP: 30

Defense: 6

Speed: 2

Attacks:

Stone Gaze: The Basilisk reveals another pair of eyes that causes all who make eye contact to turn to stone.

Claw Attack: Slashes a target for 15 damage.

Bile Burst: A projectile of bile that travels up to 30 feet and deals 10 Poison Damage.

Vicious Bite: Bites the target, dealing 12 damage and injecting poison.

Dren read the stats carefully, observing the creature as it stared off into space. The beast was not asleep, for its head was lifted up and watching a particular area of the lobby. It was a large vault that the fiend was watching. Was it guarding this area? Or had it learned that food would try to get into the vault? Either way, Dren had one distinct advantage in facing the creature; it used poison and he had a feat that granted him a defense bonus against poisons.

What was the best play here? The creature was a horrid monster that would try to slay him the moment it saw Dren. But if he were to get the drop on it, perhaps he could outright kill it with a fireball and his Autocannons. Yet it had the power to turn people to stone if they looked at its extra pair of eyes when it activated the ability. Dren needed to exhibit caution here.

The Artificer drew his Wand of Fireball and readied it. His Cannon Friends popped out of their slots and acquired their target. If he was able to do this, it would be over before the beast even knew it.

Dren crouched down and slowly made his way towards the beast, trying to get within range of the monster without being spotted. He was hoping that the fountain in between them would give him cover but as he stepped forward the creature suddenly turned its head in his direction. Dren ducked down behind the statue of the cherub and held his breath.

The beast snarled as its tail flicked up and down. The basilisk scanned the room and began to move, like a tiger on the prowl. Its impressive frame was rather agile as it moved and Dren knew that it was only a matter of time before it found him. It was now or never. If he was ever going to get into that vault, he had to fight it.

Dren took a deep breath and popped up from behind the statue, firing his wand at the monster and unloading his Autocannons. The beast reacted instantly. The fireball struck the ground beside it and exploded, a wave of flames washing out, but the creature was fast. It sprang from where it was prowling onto the side of the wall, its claws digging into the surface to grip the stone. The flames washed outwards but the creature was unfazed.

“Damn it!” Dren shouted as the beast wretched violently before firing a burst of poisonous bile towards him. He scrambled out of the way, the bile striking the ground he had been standing out. Bursts of poisonous green ooze splintered from the original projectile, moving towards Dren once more.

He continued to sprint, the new speed from his weapon improving his ability to avoid the hazardous globs of ooze that were firing everywhere. He dodged the attack and aimed his cannons at the beast. But as he looked at the creature, trying to acquire aim, it roared and unfurled two long eye stalks atop its head.

Dren immediately looked away, knowing that to meet the beast’s gaze would now be instant petrification. His cannons fired but he heard the creature scampering across the side wall, moving past the vault and out of the way. He had about seven charges left on his Fireball Wand and so he tried to anticipate where the creature was and took a shot in the dark. The explosion did not seem to indicate anything was hit.

The creature roared again and leapt across the room, landing right behind Dren. He instinctively turned to look but shut his eyes at the last moment. The beast swung its claw at him, striking the magical shield that Dren had raised in the morning. The shield took 15 damage and shattered instantly.

Dren drew his new cutlass and slashed forward in a wide arc. The attack missed as the basilisk moved behind him in a smooth motion. He tried to follow it with his eyes shut but without sight he wasn’t nearly as skilled with a blade, magic or not.

The creature rushed him and he dove out of the way at the sound, narrowly avoiding being bitten. He rolled and climbed to his feet, still blind as a rock. The basilisk became very quiet and its movements became dead silent. Dren could feel dread rush up within him as he realized he would have no way of locating the creature if it maintained its silence. The thing could creep up and bite his head without him having a chance to react.

The ambush had failed and Dren was forced to plan something else. He dug into his satchel and felt around, looking for a circular object. He had heard that gaze attacks failed when being observed through a reflection. He should have thought of this earlier.

As he found the hand mirror in his satchel, the creature launched a surprise attack to his left, striking him in the back. His armor shattered and he took 4 points of damage from the blow as he was thrown across the room.

Dren held onto the mirror however and managed to get back up on his feet. He still had plenty of HP and the fight was far from over. His cannons fired again, forcing the monster to reposition from wherever it was. At least they didn’t need sight to shoot, though they didn’t seem fast enough to hit their mark. He should have taken that Overdrive feat, then his cannons would be firing even harder.

The Artificer raised the mirror and glanced into it with his back turned. He could see the beast moving to the left, to circle around him. He made eye contact with the creature’s stalks but there seemed to be no effect on him. He was perfectly safe as long as he looked in the mirror.

Thinking quickly, Dren drew out his Forcefield Wand and aimed backwards, trying to account for the creature’s movements. The basilisk came to charge at him but Dren activated the wand, creating a circular wall around the creature. The beast struck the invisible wall hard and bounced off.

The basilisk did not seem to comprehend what was happening and tried to charge again. The result was the same, it bounced off. The wall was composed of pure force magic and was more than capable of keeping the creature trapped. And the duration was five minutes. This gave Dren enough time to figure out a plan.

Unfortunately, the wall went both ways, Dren would not be able to fire his wand without the forcefield nullifying his attack. It was essentially a time-out for the fight.

Eventually, Dren decided that he was going to test one of his new spells out. The spell Summon Golem was perfect in this situation. The duration was five minutes, so Dren just needed to time it right in order to allow the wall to fall and the golem to remain.

Before he summoned the golem, however, Dren had another idea. The creature had a propensity for climbing the walls in order to escape being attacked. So he cast the Grease spell twice, spraying both sides of the walls in the room with a thin film of lubricant that would prevent the beast from taking that route. And with the way the Fireball spell interacted with the grease, it was a perfect trap.

Dren ran the timer down to two minutes and then raised both hands to cast the summoning spell. This was a bit more complex and took a moment for him to properly concentrate. After about twenty seconds of casting, a great mist appeared in front of Dren and from the mist emerged a tall humanoid golem.

The summon was made out of ethereal energy but solidified to embody a magic creature. As a golem, it was immune to effects such as poison or petrification. The creature stood above Dren, ten feet tall and composed of pure metal.

“Orders?” the golem chittered in a metallic voice.

“When the forcefield drops, slay the basilisk,” Dren commanded.

“Affirmative,” it replied. The great golem turned to face the creature and walked up to the edge of the forcefield. Dren watched the whole thing through the mirror and silently counted down. Time passed and then, suddenly, the golem was launching itself forward with all of its might.

The basilisk did not like the golem and howled in anger as it dodged the summon’s lunge attack. It leapt deftly to the right, landing on the wall as it was prone to do. Dren quickly went into action. He fired his wand over his shoulder, striking the surface where the beast was scampering. The grease on the walls caused the creature to stumble as it tried to move away, slipping and digging its claws harder into the surface to hold on.

The fireball struck true and the basilisk took 20 points of damage, its health dropping down to 10 as it howled in anger. The creature fell to the ground and landed on all four. It tried to charge Dren but the golem intercepted.

The hulking metal man seized the large basilisk with its iron arms and grabbed it hard, pulling it in to crush it. The monster slashed a dozen times with its claws to escape the grasp but the damage was minimal to the summon. Iron didn’t seem to mind being scratched and slashed. The golem crushed once and the basilisk suddenly jerked upwards, its health dropping to zero.

The golem crushed the creature once more, unable to comprehend the fight was over. There was a sickening crack as the basilisk’s bones broke.

“That’s enough!” Dren said, watching from the mirror. The golem released the monster and it fell to the ground, vanquished.

Basilisk Defeated! 1,500 XP Gained! appeared in his vision. The fight was over. Dren had won.

Chapter 29

The golem was useful for opening the vault. Dren had tried to operate the wheel but discovered there was a combination that was required to get it open. The iron golem’s immense strength and grip was the only safecracking tool he needed and he watched as the great construct pulled on the vault wheel until the thing ripped open, leaving a hole roughly Dren’s size to crawl through.

Dren started to instruct the summon to guard the door but it vanished halfway through his sentence, the spell having ended right then and there. A shame, as he would have liked to keep it standing guard while he explored the interior. Oh well.

The Artificer crawled through the hole and into a well preserved room. It seemed that it was sealed off just before the accident dragged the rest of the tower into hell. There were walls full of books, records and a scroll repository. But what caught his interest the most were a series of tables in the center of the area with small triangular pedestals upon them. At the top of each triangle was a bright purple orb, spinning endlessly.

“Woah,” Dren said as he approached one of the orbs. “What is this?”

Identify Success!

Psychometric Journal

Description: These powerful artifacts contain information that scholars record in order to maintain archives.

Dren placed a hand on one of the orbs and was immediately greeted with an image of a man recounting some information, as well as the audio projected all around him.

“This is Professor Ferns. One of the guilds upstairs has opened up a portal and the most interesting creature emerged. From all accounts, it appears to be a powerful fire elemental that claims to be a deity.”

Dren felt his hair stand up on the back of his neck as he heard this. The voice continued. “I told the fellows upstairs to close the damn portal and put it back, but they were too interested in this Fire Below, as it calls itself. From what I can tell, the creature is not a god at all but a primal fire spirit from one of the eternal planes of flames located somewhere in the lower realms. Some may refer to these areas as hell but in reality they are just natural points of magic, where many sorcerers and wizards draw their elemental magic from.”

The man lost interest in the Fire Below after that and began to recount other experiments that his department was doing. It was mostly mundane. Dren lifted his hand from the orb and went to another, curious to see if there was any more mention of the fire spirit.

Professor Ferns spoke again, his voice more pained. “Things are looking bleak upstairs. The mage who first encountered the Fire Below is beginning to exhibit stranger behaviors. The color is drained from his face and he seems to be more or less in a stupor. He’s saying many strange things, namely talking about making sacrifices to the Fire. We’ve tried to reason with him but he is a senior of research and doesn’t answer to anyone. Our department is trying to get them to close the portal and to send the fire spirit back to where it came from, but the other departments are still doing research. I fear this can only end poorly.”

Dren shivered at those words. So it seemed the Fire Below was connected to this portal. He went to the last orb to see how the story ended for Ferns.

“Those blasted fools! Simmons, that damned idiot, threw himself into a pyre before the portal. This sacrifice gave immense power to the fire spirit, that self-proclaimed deity and then all hell broke loose! The portal became overwhelming and all manner of creatures came out. The Fire Below escaped his confinements and now everything is going to hell in a handbasket. I fear this may be my last entry in our office here. With the ruckus going on upstairs, we may have to escape.”

There were no other entries after that. Dren now knew that the Fire Below was not a deity but just a fire spirit with great power. Without the sacrifices, it would be unable to do much. A mystery solved but the answer was not comforting.

The Artificer spent some time looking at the various scroll cases. A few had been emptied in somewhat of a hurry but there were hundreds of them to sort through. Most were low level but he eventually came upon one that looked promising.

It was a jeweled scroll case with a complex lock on one end. Dren tried to pick it but it was resistant to any form of raking or picking. With a shrug, he flipped it over and cut a hole in the non-jeweled end, tearing open the case and pulling out a single scroll. His eyes lit up in excitement at the words that lay before him.

Scroll of Greater Psychometry

Description: Allows for the user to recall the past of an object with a single touch.

Just like that, Dren’s search for the murderer had made a turn into a very promising lead. He probably should have waited until he was back with Orlin to try the scroll but he was too impatient. There were so many unanswered questions about his partner’s death. This would give him everything he needed. And besides, didn’t he earn the right to know?

Dren produced the murder weapon and placed it on one of the tables. The thin wand lay there, saying nothing for now, but soon it would produce the identity of the man who had taken Arthur Twisp’s life. The Artificer grabbed the scroll and read off of it, speaking the ancient words of magic aloud. A purple burst of energy surrounded his hand as the scroll burned up. He placed his hand on the wand and then…everything was revealed.

In an instant, Dren was transported to a mansion of some sort. There were dozens of Cult of the Red members gathered around, huddled together as they watched a tall man—who bore a striking resemblance to Twisp—accept the wand.

A high priest of the order, identifiable by the burning stone hanging from his neck, was in the middle of handing it to the stranger. “Sansibald Twisp. Your Uncle has resisted our demands. He will not listen to reason. His village produces a great deal of commerce for this city, sending copper by the ton every week. Without him, the copper will dry up and the people of Drift City will need to rely on other sources for their metal. You have spoken to him many times but he mocks us. He mocks you. He mocks the Fire Below.

“Within my hands, I have a potent weapon, a wand of my own artifice. Press it to his chest and he will die instantly. Our mages have prepared the teleport spell. You shall blink into his residence, end him and blink back before anyone can do anything. Do you accept this task?”

“Yes,” Sansibald replied. “Prefect Markus, I shall do as you wish. My Uncle has been given every chance in the world to join our glorious order. But he resists because he has no faith in the true god of this land.”

“Then we bestow upon you this sacred task,” Prefect Markus said. “Go forth, my son. Go and slay the unbeliever! Strike a wound into his village that will not recover and send a message to the other companies that they must deal with our order, should they wish to do business with Drift City.”

Sansibald, looking pale and almost mindless, accepted the weapon and stepped backwards into a circle. Four mages came forth and raised their hands. And then he vanished.

Dren could see the assassination again. The dinner party, the bored-looking Dren sitting at the table, swirling a glass of wine absentmindedly… Sansibald was there, wearing a black robe and hood, weapon jammed into his uncle’s chest. And then he was back, back to the manor where he had been dispatched.

“It is done,” Sansibald said to his dark master, kneeling down. “I have slain the unbeliever.”

“Another sacrifice for the Fire Below!” Markus chortled. “You have done well, my friend. And now we bestow upon to you a new honor. You may throw yourself into the fire, to be with our god, eternally.”

Dren’s eyes went wide as Sansibald mindlessly rose up and walked towards a burning pyre that had been lit. And then, the spell ended. So powerful was the magic that it was able to recall a few moments after being dropped.

“His own nephew,” Dren muttered, shaking his head. “And it was the Cult this whole time. They wanted to disrupt the copper trade and send a message to Twisp’s partner.”

This complicated things greatly. And there was another detail that did not escape Dren’s attention. Prefect Markus was an Artificer as well.

The murderer was just a tool in the Cult’s belt. They had been the ones to end Twisp’s life and then when the killer finished the job, they disposed of him too. The one who was responsible for this whole operation was the Prefect, an Artificer who used his power to control others. All out of devotion to the Fire Below.

Dren did not know what to do with this information. He sighed heavily to himself. He had vowed to bring the murderer to justice but it seemed that such a task would require him to take down the Prefect himself. This would not be an easy operation…but it was something he had to do. The Cult was getting out of control and all over a fire spirit.

The Artificer began to pack up the various books and scrolls, grabbing everything he could carry. There were spellbooks of psychometry, ancient texts that commanded the forces of the past as well as wands, rods and rings that enabled various types of analysis. Dren had received his answer but now he needed to finish the quest.

His bags crammed to the brim, Dren headed back the way he came, head held low. The answer to his mystery was not a pleasant one. There would be no calling the city guard and kicking in the door to grab some killer. No, to get justice, he would have to find that mansion and take down the Cult itself.

Chapter 30

Dren returned to the Synchronicity Guild with his pack full. He had made a quick stop on the second floor to scour for his missing weapons. He found them located in the Lady’s resting place, where her coffin was hidden away. The Find Secret Doors spell had granted him the ability to uncover the hidden area and within he found his Floating Crossbow, Junk Gun and Hand Cannon, as well as his Kite Shield. The vampiress had placed the items up on the wall as trophies and thankfully the adventurers who had searched the place didn’t find them.

He made his way to Orlin’s apartment and knocked. The old man opened the door and smiled widely. “Ah! Dren, so good to see you my friend. Come on in, I was just about to cook some dinner.”

“Mind if I join you?” Dren asked. “I’m starving.”

“Of course, of course. Plenty of Ulrion Noodles for everyone. Your companion has been fine company to me, by the way. Ariel is quick witted and fascinated with magic. I’ve even taught her a few basic tricks of potion crafting. She’s fast to learn and skilled with her own artifice. Though her designs are somewhat mundane.”

“Dren!” Ariel said, climbing up from her position reclining on Orlin’s couch, reading a book of magic. She quickly rushed up to hug him. “I’ve been so safe here! It’s been great.”

“I’m glad to hear you two are getting along well,” Dren replied as he unslung his pack on the kitchen table and began to take out books. Orlin returned to the kitchen and began to prepare the meal, though he was distracted with the material Dren was pulling out.

“Wait a second, I recognize that tome,” he said, stopping from his kitchenly duties and approaching one of the books. “This is Kierard’s Treatise on Recall!” His eyes went wide. “You son of a hare! You found them! You found the spellbooks too!”

“Yup,” Dren said, sitting down. “Everything I could grab from the vault, I brought here.”

“This certainly brings us forward in our work, the Guild will be thrilled to have these!” Orlin gasped. “You’re quite the adventurer, Dren.”

“Sure am,” Dren muttered, staring off into space.

Orlin sensed something was wrong and asked Ariel to give them some space. She headed off into another room, leaving the two alone. “What is the matter, my friend?”

“I found a scroll of Greater Psychometry in there and used it,” Dren said. “I’ve gotten a caster mastery and so I can use these spells.”

“Sounds like you didn’t find the answer you were looking for,” Orlin sighed.

“The answer I’ve gotten is worse than I wanted,” Dren conceded. He slowly explained the entire situation to Orlin. The old man listened carefully and nodded when Dren was done.

“I see. So you’re saying the Cult is behind your friend’s murder. That is most troubling. And they have become so brazen. But, you said you know the man who is truly responsible. This Prefect Markus. And he resides in a mansion? That shouldn’t be too hard to find. If your deceased friend, Mr. Twisp was wealthy, then there’s a big chance that Markus is holed up in his mansion. We could check the city records and find it in a matter of hours.”

“But what’s the endgame?” Dren asked. “The Cult has resources, followers and spells. The Fire Below grants them immense power. Are you suggesting that I just show up at the mansion and try to capture the man?”

“What I’m suggesting is that you bring this matter to the city and get them to commission a quest to handle it,” Orlin replied. “The Cult of the Red might have a few hundreds in their fold but…there has to be some awareness in it at the city’s administrative level. Someone is just waiting for a push against them. Why not try your luck there?”

“That sounds difficult,” Dren said, rubbing his forehead.

“But it would be worth it in the end, to see the Cult take a major loss and the Prefect captured and judged for his many crimes,” Orlin countered. “Think about it, lad. This city is ripe full of adventurers and mercenary folk. You or I may not have the funds to bring an army but they most certainly would. High level folks on your side and you leading the charge.”

Dren considered this. The plan didn’t sound that bad. “If I handle talking to the city,” he said, “would you be able to locate the Twisp mansion?”

“Of course! With the restoration of these books, I’ll have a whole team under me, ready to do any research project I give them,” Orlin cheerfully replied. “Now come on, let’s get some dinner and then strategize on how you’re going to convince the city.”

Quest Completed! 2,500 XP gained! appeared in Dren’s vision as Orlin gathered a few of the books for himself.

Dren stayed for dinner then excused himself, heading home to his workshop. There wasn’t much for him to do other than to prepare for his attempt to get the city to handle this Cult problem. He tossed and turned for much of the night, wondering if they would try to get into his house again. But there was nothing but the sound of the wind outside.

In the morning, Dren rose and dressed, washing up and applying some scented oils that Garis had given him. Then, he headed over to the Central District, where the city administration was located.

This part of the city was far less interesting than the rest. While all the other districts had different colored bricks to indicate where you were, the Central District had only grey concrete on the ground. The towers were bland and colorless, and there weren’t too many people around. He made his way to the Central Administration building and entered, discovering a very long queue to wait in.

Hours passed and eventually he was granted admittance to speak to a city representative. The rep was a thin woman with long black bangs and a sneering face. He sat down in her office and cleared his throat.

“So Mr. Dren, how may our great city assist you today?” Representative Laura asked, folding her hands on her desk.

“Well, there is really no easy way to broach this topic,” Dren said. “But I’m here because of the Cult of the Red.”

The woman’s eyebrow rose. “We don’t allow solicitors if you’re here to sell me on something,” she warned.

“No, no I’m not a part of them. Rather, I’ve had some…serious altercations with them. I came to this city to investigate the murder of my friend and business partner, only to find out that it was the Cult that was behind it. Since I’ve been here, I’ve run into them a few times and the last time things got violent to say the least. They tried to kidnap one of my friends, they broke into my house and almost killed us.”

Laura sighed heavily. “We have been getting reports left and right about them. I’m not sure what you expect the city to do.”

“Through the use of psychometry, I was able to find one of the leaders responsible for Arthur Twisp’s death. The man is an Artificer and is holed up in a mansion somewhere. I was hoping that the city would be willing to assist me in arresting the man.”

“We have instructions from the top not to engage with them,” Laura replied. “They are a nuisance, sure, but there aren’t that many of them.”

“I’ve heard from so many different people about the effect they have on innocents. They lure folks in, promising healing and power, only to sacrifice them to fire. Hell, I was almost sacrificed by a group when I was trying to get to the city,” Dren said. “Surely you have to do something.”

“I’m afraid the city just doesn’t want to get involved,” Laura said, her lips pressed into a thin line. She gestured towards the door. “We can’t help you. Sorry.”

And just like that, Dren was ushered out of the building, no closer to gaining any assistance. But he didn’t give up on his plans. If the city wasn’t going to be of help, so be it. But there were plenty of people in the town who had had enough of the Cult of the Red. He would have to take the matter into his own hands.

The next stop he made was at the printing presses where he had a few dozen posters made. The design was a simple one. It read: Tired of the Missing Persons? Sick of the Red Cloaks? All concerned citizens who wish to deal with the Cult of the Red are asked to join in a direct fight against them. Meet with Dren at the Vermillion Tavern for more information.

He spent the morning putting up the posters near various points of high traffic in the city, making sure to look for any signs of red cloaks around him as he did so. The last thing he needed was for anyone to come and tear down the posters that he had worked on.

Chapter 31

Turnout in the Vermillion Tavern was quite large, much to Dren’s surprise. At first it was a trickle of a man or a woman coming in, asking for Dren and finding him in the corner of the tavern, where he had been allowed to set up shop, thanks to his status as a friend of the Vermillion. And then they came in droves.

They almost all shared the same story: friends or family had talked about joining the cult, tried to recruit them and then one day went missing. They were tired of waiting for the city to handle it and were willing to take things into their own hands.

Orlin had found the mansion, one of the late Arthur Twisp’s residencies located on the outskirts of the city, not in a district but in a region of its own. It was located halfway into the woods half a mile from the city, isolated where someone would be able to conduct their own operations without being bothered by the law or anyone else in Drift City. A map was drawn and a pitch was made.

“Friends,” Dren said to the group of nearly thirty people who were sitting around the tavern, watching him. “We have all lost something to the Cult of the Red. These people seem to think that they can come in and do whatever they please, that they can take our family and friends away, that they can sacrifice the living without any form of retribution. The city has decided that they are going to turn a blind eye to the Cult, but I know that they are only going to get stronger without some kind of counter-attack. They have numbers, sure, but I am a seasoned adventurer and I am looking for those with strength and classes of their own to join me in a raid on one of their base of operations. It will be dangerous and there will be risks, but if the city won’t handle it, we must.”

The group all cheered at that. Dren looked out at the crowd as he stood on the table in the corner, observing them. These were not ordinary people, out to watch a man rant and rave. These were men and women armed with weapons themselves, some carrying magical gear and others with a look of determination that indicated they had been in fights before. Thirty was not a small number, it would be enough to lay siege to the manor and hopefully capture the Prefect as well as obtain evidence that the Cult was up to no good.

One man raised his hand. He was an elderly fellow but was adorned in magical robes and had a circlet upon his head that shone like the sun. “This cult is no joke,” he said. “My name is Abram and I’ve been tracking their movements for some time. They are cruel and contemptuous, using their magical abilities to enslave the innocent. We cannot allow them to keep gaining ground. I am a Battlemage, capable of wielding great magics to fight. I say that any of us who have class levels, who have the gear and strength, join this man.”

Another fellow, a tall burly man with a massive battleaxe on his back stood proudly. “I am Olaf, a warrior and a fighter. This damned cult tried to capture me in the Underground Apartments and I’ve been on the run ever since. The city guard won’t do a damned thing other than try to arrest them in the moment, but afterwards? No testimony will bring these people to justice. I, too, say we join him in his crusade. Drift City is our home and these cultists wish to see it under their rule.”

A few more stood to introduce themselves. There was Lenya the Archer, Tomlin the Rogue and Buster the Berserker. These people all had stories to tell about friends who went missing, their attempts to retrieve their allies and harrowing experiences with the Cult.

Not everyone was onboard, however. The lower level folks began to filter out as the discussion grew more serious. By the time Dren was ready to draw up battle plans, half of the people had left the tavern, deciding that they weren’t quite ready to deal with something in the here and now. Fifteen remained, warriors, mages and other classes, people who were at least Level 5 and ready to deal with the menace that was haunting the city.

Abram was the most vociferous of the group. The Battlemage had a score to settle with the Cult, as they had stolen away his wife. The man supported Dren with his ideas and the rest of the group seemed to be interested in what the mage had to say.

By midnight, the members of the group had familiarized with one another. Dren was pleased with their determination and they all joined his team as companions, all with stats that were complimentary to his own. He would have liked more people to join but no one else came. He wondered if any of the people who left were spies for the Cult, going back to report what they had witnessed. But it would be foolish for them to try and interrupt the meeting, as they would be the prime targets for the rage of these citizens who were sick and tired of losing their friends to a farce.

The plan was a simple one. With the mansion located, the team was simply going to storm the place. The Cult had eyes everywhere, so scouting would just simply tip them off even earlier, if they didn’t know about the attack already.

From Dren’s experience, the cultists weren’t particularly strong individually. The priests were the ones who held the most power, whereas the rest of the group seemed to be low level, able to be downed in a single strike. That’s where their group had the advantage.

With the plan made, everyone was sent home to arm up and prepare. Dren returned to his workshop to rest and in the morning, they all gathered in the outskirts, ready to take care of the Cult once and for all.

As the last members of the party convened at the mouth of the woods, someone called out. “Guards! We’ve got guards coming!”

Dren grimaced at the sound of this. He turned around to see a group of guards, about twenty, marching towards them with their weapons at the ready. Word must have gotten out that Dren’s little army was going to be attacking and they were probably here to tell them to return home.

He pushed his way through the other classers and went to meet the leader of the guards, hoping that he would be able to convince them to leave their group to their own devices. What he was not expecting was that the leader of the guards would be none other than Terrance, the friendly face that he had first met when he entered the city.

“Dren!” Terrance said, grinning from ear to ear. “I saw one of your posters. Sounds like you’re getting ready to get into a hell of trouble.”

“Terrance!” Dren replied. “It’s good to see you, but I take it that this is more than a social call?”

“My bosses would tear their hair out if they knew citizens were just going to attack a property that is technically within Drift City’s jurisdiction,” he explained, the guards all stopping behind him in formation. “But I said to myself, well, if this cult isn’t going to go away and if the city admin won’t handle it…you might need some reinforcements.”

“What?” Dren gasped. “You’re here to help us?”

“I keep replaying that moment in my mind, when you ran off to save that woman’s satchel,” Terrance said. “And how I said it wasn’t my problem. You know, if everyone acted like you did, stepping up in a time of need, then maybe we wouldn’t have so much crime in the city. Now it is one hundred percent not my job to fight a crazy cult, but I thought about the disappearances, the posters and quest boards begging for help…and so I realized that maybe I do need to step up and be the hero every now and then. I pulled a group of volunteers. We’re here to help, to make arrests and find out what the hell the cult is up to. If anyone in this city is going to do something, it needs to happen today.”

Dren clasped Terrance’s hand in a firm handshake. “You, my friend, are something else.”

“If anyone asks, you’re all deputized by the guard, under the City Safety Concord,” Terrance replied. He straightened up, poleaxe held high. “But you’re the lead. I take it you know what you’re doing?”

“We’re going to storm the manor and take it by force, simple as that,” Dren replied. “They are probably aware of us but outside of the priests and high ranking members, their forces seem to be rather weak. I’m expecting resistance but we should have the numbers, thanks to your group.”

“Then lead on, oh brave Commander Dren!” Terrance said.

“Alright,” Dren shouted to his crew. “The city guard has sent a detachment to back us up. I want them to divide in half and to take our flanks. We’re marching straight to the manor.”

The group quickly moved into formation, with the guards taking the left and right flank, dividing in groups of ten. The middle rank was composed of the adventurers who were sick of the Cult and ready to fight them by any means necessary. There were now 35 of them and Dren felt better about his chances of winning this engagement.

He drew his enchanted cutlass, popped out his Shoulder Cannons and took the lead.

Chapter 32

The woods were eerily quiet. This was a local forest known as the Heywood, where loggers would work in order to provide supplementary lumber to the builders of the city. Most of the lumber was shipped from other places in the Verdant Forest but a local logger could make some coin by working out here. The lumber yard they passed was abandoned, though. Axes remained in trees, logs on the ground were in the middle of being sawn in half and carts were only half loaded. It was as if the loggers had left in a hurry quite some time ago. There were no smoldering coals or any such hints to indicate recent activity.

The group marched on the road to the manor for half an hour before they came across a great burning fire in the middle of the path. Six cultists were standing in front of the road, bearing axes and swords. They wore their red cloaks proudly, faces covered by red hoods and neckerchiefs that hid their expressions.

“What are you doing here?” one of the cultists demanded, stepping forward in defiance of Dren’s private army. He raised his scimitar up high as if threatening them.

“I’m giving you one chance,” Dren said. “Stand down at once and get out of the way. Or we will force our way through.”

“Brothers!” the cultist shouted. They all raised their weapons in unison. “The Fire Below will not be stopped by any mortal force. He is a god and as such, he gives us great power!”

“You’re heavily outnumbered,” Dren warned, pointing his blade straight at the man. “If you don’t stand down, we will cut you down.”

“Who needs numbers when you have the power of the Fire Below?” he replied. The flames behind him flashed and surged out, fiery tendrils wrapping around each of their weapons. Their swords and axes ignited with brilliant light and they rushed forward to fight.

“Hold your ground,” Dren ordered.

The six cultists rushed forward but before they could strike, Abram raised a hand and sent out a wave of ice that caused the ground beneath them to harden and turn to sleet. The cultists stumbled as they tried to keep their balance.

Dren slashed his magical blade towards the first cultist who came sliding his way. The weapon seemed to sing as it cut through the air, striking the man in the gut and bringing him down instantly. The rest of his group held their position and the warriors at the front attacked with brutality. The cultists, despite their flaming weapons, had no stability thanks to Abram’s spell and they were cut down with equal measure. In a matter of seconds, there was nothing left but the burning pyre.

“That was underwhelming as a defense force,” Terrance muttered.

But before the group could celebrate their first victory, the flames of the pyre began to burn brighter. A terrible voice emanated from it. “So you seek to resist my power?” the Fire Below rumbled. “You have no clue who it is that you are facing.”

“You are nothing more than a fire spirit from another plane,” Dren shouted. “You do not have the power you claim to.”

“Witness me!” it bellowed.

Flames burst out of the pyre and struck the corpses of the dead cultists. The group backed up to avoid being scolded by the burning hot fires. The bodies rose into the air and ignited, becoming silhouettes of flame itself. They all animated at once and began to throw fireballs into Dren’s party.

“Scatter!” someone shouted, and everyone broke rank, fleeing out of the way of the explosions. Flames were everywhere in a matter of seconds and a few guards were caught, their bodies instantly being burned up.

The archers raised their weapons up high and started to shoot at the flaming corpses, only for their arrows to melt and disintegrate before they could strike their targets. One archer was hit with a return shot of flames, which ignited him instantly.

Dren had to act quickly before they were routed. The enemies were too high above them to be dispatched but he had an idea. If the pyre was the source of the animation, then if it went out, then perhaps the enemy would no longer be able to fight.

Raising his free hand, Dren cast Summon Golem. This time, he chose an ice golem. After a few seconds, a great being of frost and ice appeared before him. The golem was composed purely of frozen water, with jagged arms and a bulky body.

“Get to the pyre and put the fire out!” Dren ordered amidst the chaos. The enemy above began to rain fire down on them but Abram and a few of the other mages were quick to cast shield spells above the group, conjuring metal disks that absorbed the impact.

The frozen golem accepted the orders without hesitation and lumbered forward, marching towards the great fire. The summon reached the flames and extended both jagged arms forward, funneling a heap of frost wind. The pyre tried to resist but the sheer power of the ice golem was able to overwhelm it. Snow came billowing from its hands, covering the flames and in an instant, the flames went out.

As soon as the fire died, the bodies above lost their flames. They became withered and charred corpses that plummeted to the ground, inert and unable to move.

“What the hell was that?” Terrance asked as he walked besides Dren. “That fire spoke!”

“It’s their supposed god, the Fire Below,” Dren said. “It is a terrible spirit that demands human sacrifice in order to gain power.”

“Well, we lost three guys to it,” the guard replied, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “That damned thing reanimated corpses…are you sure of what we’re getting into?”

“You’re always free to turn around,” Olaf the Warrior taunted. He looked at the rest of the group. They were getting back into formation, undaunted from the attacks. “But we’re going to keep on marching until we take down one of their leaders.”

The adventurers seemed undaunted by this setback. If anything, they were emboldened, convinced that they were going in the right direction. They regrouped, entered formation and continued their march with Dren at the lead. They made their way through the quiet woods until they reached a massive mansion.

The building was huge. It had a tower in the back, six doors on the front and a large metal fence around it. There was a sign on the property that warned all visitors to keep out no matter what. Two men in robes were at the front of the gate, guarding it, but when they saw Dren’s small army, they quickly retreated inside.

“Seems they know we’re here now,” Dren said to his group. They approached the gate and easily forced it open, breaking the chain that was keeping the barriers together. They entered the courtyard to find a group of about ten cultists, armed to the teeth.

“What are you doing here?” one of cultists, a man with a missing eye but no patch demanded. He had a small axe in his hand and raised it threateningly. “This place is off-limits to outsiders.”

“We are here for Prefect Markus,” Dren said, stepping forward to meet the leader. “And if you know what’s good for you, you will surrender him at once.”

The man scoffed. “This motley crew of fighters you have is no match for the powers of the Fire Below.”

“The last group we ran into said the same thing and they’re all dead,” Dren retorted. He raised his sword. “Last chance.”

“Kill them!” the leader shouted. He tried to say something more but one of the rogues in the backlines fired a crossbow, spearing him in the throat. He fell back, gurgling nonsense and clutching at his neck.

The cultists were not prepared for an all-out assault and were quickly overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of Dren’s group. The fighters charged into the fray while mages cast spells all around them, binding cultists to the ground or forcing their weapons to be ripped from their hands.

Within a matter of seconds, the fight was over. All cultists were slain, their levels far too low to handle the group of seasoned adventurers.

When the last man fell, Dren spoke. “Alright, we’re going to go inside and find that Prefect,” he said. “Be careful, we don’t know what’s in there or who. It’s possible there may be prisoners inside.”

Chapter 33

The main door to the mansion broke open, allowing Dren and his cohort to enter. They pushed their way through the barricaded entrance, shoving the furniture that had been gathered to block the way in aside.

The interior of the building was a total wreck. Paintings were torn and hanging loosely from the walls, tables and vases were smashed and drapes were torn to shreds. The place had clearly seen better days and judging from the damage, that had been quite some time ago. Dren took the lead as his group crowded inside, the open manor allowing them all to get in without much trouble.

Candles were everywhere, burning brightly and casting shadows all across the walls. There was a main passageway in front of them, leading to a large room and two stairs on either side of the entryway. A sense of dread welled up within Dren as he saw there was no one waiting in the foyer for them. The Cult had either retreated or they were gathered together somewhere else, perhaps waiting for a last stand.

“Should we split up?” Olaf asked as he stepped beside Dren, his massive armor sparkling in the darkness.

“No, stick close together,” Dren said. “We can check upstairs after we try the main room up ahead.”

Weapons drawn and at the ready, the group huddled together and moved forward, making their way through the long hallway where more and more candles were lining the walls. There were strange eldritch markings on their surface, hand painted in red.

“These are praises to the fire spirit they’re so fond of,” Abram remarked as he examined one of the walls. “It would seem they believe that he is all-powerful.”

“He’s just a spirit,” Dren said. “A tricky one that lies and feeds off the misery of humans. But a spirit nonetheless.”

“Do you think he’s here?” Abram asked.

“I should hope not, if so, our job is going to get a lot harder,” Dren replied.

They made their way through the hallway into a large lobby where a tree was planted in the center. The thing looked withered and sickly, brown leaves falling off of it to indicate that no one had been caring for it in a long time. There was a short barrier around the tree with mulch.

“And so the city has decided to ally with the weak,” a voice boomed. It was familiar in a sense, though Dren had only heard it for a short time. Standing behind the tree was a tall, pale man wearing robes and carrying an amulet that burned eternally. This was none other than Prefect Markus.

Behind him was a group of cultists, busy throwing everything they could atop a large pile of sticks.

“Markus,” Dren said, pointing his sword at the man. “You and your lot are guilty of many crimes against the city. You have kidnapped, you have murdered and you have taken what is not yours. On top of all of that, you involved me by killing my partner and friend, Arthur Twisp, using his own family as your pawn.”

Markus was laughing maniacally. He twiddled with the amulet around his neck. “Oh, I see. So you are here for revenge? Or perhaps Twisp had something in his will to dispatch a fool to investigate his death?”

“I am here for justice,” Dren said. “And to strike a blow against your cult.”

“Do you really think you can just waltz in here and take me down?” Markus asked. “Do you even have any idea who I am? I am one of the chief rulers of the cult. We have worked very hard to ensure that our plans cannot be foiled by mere mortals. The Fire Below said that you and your group were coming, but I must admit that I am underwhelmed by the sacrifices that you bring.”

The group raised their weapons at that.

“You will find that we will not go down,” Dren said. “But we will kill you if we must.”

“And what would that accomplish in the grand scheme of things?” Markus demanded. “What will my death do for the greater good? You are a man without vision. And soon you will perish like the rest of your brethren here. But I have plans for you. Stand down now and present yourself as a worthy sacrifice, or I shall summon the Fire Below himself and watch as he smites you all.”

“They’re going to try to light that pyre on fire,” Abram muttered to Dren. “What do we do?”

“Cast a water spell on it while we rush them,” Dren replied. “That should prevent it from lighting.”

The Artificer looked at the cruel leader of the group. “If you will not come quietly, then you will be slain this day.”

“Oh, I shall not die!” the man replied. He raised his hands and sent forth a burst of flames that landed on the ground in front of the group, cutting them off from their enemy. The fire burned brightly and formed a great wall that flickered with violence. “I shall live eternally!”

“Get this wall down!” Dren ordered to the mages. They stepped forward, the six of them, and raised their hands in unison. Water flowed forth from their fingers, splashing against the great burning wall. The fire tried to burn through the water but could not hold against the literal river that was flowing forth from the mages. Within seconds, the wall fizzled and vanished.

“They’re gone!” Olaf shouted, slamming his battleaxe against the floor in rage. Sure enough, as soon as the haze of the flames had withered, they could see the enemy cult had fled. Dren raised a hand to steady his allies. “They must have retreated to the inner chamber. After them!”

As they drew closer to the pyre, a single man emerged from behind the stack of wood, paintings and broken down tables. He had a torch in his hand. The man threw it atop the pyre before he could be intercepted and then, in a harrowing moment, jumped into the flames as well. He did not scream.

In an instant, a great pillar of flames appeared and the voice boomed. “Dren, you fool! You dare come upon holy ground to spill the blood of my followers?”

Silhouettes of flame came emerging forth from the pyre, lesser fire spirits that rushed towards the group. The warriors charged forward to meet them, but their blades were of no use against such foes.

“Put the fire out!” Dren ordered, hurrying forward to protect the mages as one fire spirit landed in front of him. The black and red embers of its body solidified as it tried to strike at Dren with a flaming hand. The Artificer dodged to the left and cut down with his blade.

The magical sword sank through the arm, severing it though this caused no pain to the creature. It turned towards him and released a burst of short-ranged fire that washed over him. His magical shield absorbed the damage though it broke in a matter of seconds. Dren plunged his cutlass into the creature’s chest, the magical energies flowing through the weapon.

The mages all prepared another spell, sending waves of snow from their palms, all focusing on the pyre. It burned brilliantly, trying to stop the spell, but the ice effect was much stronger than the fire. The flames went out, yet the fire spirits remained.

Dren pulled his blade from the creature’s torso and aimed for its flaming head, but he missed as the spirit jumped slightly out of reach. Immediately, it sent a lash of flames, akin to a whip, to wrap around his Autogauntlet. The tendril seized Dren’s arm but thankfully it did not burn him thanks to the protective lining of the gauntlet itself. He used his improved strength to pull hard and draw the monster in before he hacked away once, twice and a third time, finally managing to severe its head from its body.

The others were fighting for their lives against the spirits; the mages were casting shards of ice into their bodies while the archers fired at them with arrows and crossbow bolts, and the warriors slashed away. Precious time was eaten up and two men fell to the flames. Still, they were able to overcome the monsters in the fight and put an end to them now that the pyre had been quenched.

“Regroup!” Dren ordered as he took the lead, pushing his way through the throng of warriors. They all gathered behind him and they charged through another hallway, leading deeper into the mansion.

The hallway grew darker as they continued and the walls became narrower, more claustrophobic. The group was forced to change their formation to two by two, passing through the chamber in the search of Prefect Markus. No doubt what was awaiting them in the next area would be an ambush of some kind.

Before Dren could take another step, Tomlin shouted out. “Traps!” he cried, pushing his way to the front. “I sense a trap ahead.”

Dren froze in place, his foot inches away from stepping forward. Tomlin, a short and plucky fellow, scrambled besides the Artificer and looked at the ground. “I should have been at the front to check,” he muttered, kneeling down. He felt around for a moment and revealed a trip wire that was so thin that it may as well have been invisible. Dren glanced up to see that boulders were suspended on a net above them. Had he tripped it, they would have been crushed and cut off from the rest of the group.

“Just give me one second,” the rogue mumbled as he took out a tool and began to work. “This shouldn’t be too difficult…”

Soon, the line went slack, without the trap going off. Tomlin wandered a few steps ahead and mumbled something to himself as he went to tinker with something in the wall. Dren had been so caught up in the charge that he hadn’t thought to check for traps. He let out a deep breath, knowing how close to disaster he had come.

Once the traps in the hallway were dealt with, the group moved forward albeit at a slower pace. They traveled for some time until eventually they reached the mouth of the hall, leading to a massive chamber that was circular.

There were three levels to this chamber, a circular entryway, a balcony and then a pit in the center where a great fire was perpetually burning. Standing on the balcony were dozens of cultists, armed with bows and arrows at the ready. There was a box where Prefect Markus was standing tall, the man undaunted by the attackers’ intrusion.

“And so you all come to the inner sanctum,” he said, his voice echoing all around them. “Did you think that you would be able to just waltz in and kill us?”

At that moment, there was a thunderous slam as a long slab of stone landed behind the group, cutting them off from their exit. A grinding noise rose up and the ground began to slant, aiming towards the fire. There was nowhere for them to go.

Men in heavy armor started to slide downwards and scrambled to grab a hold of something. Unfortunately, they were unable to get to the pillars that surrounded the fire in time. Guards and adventurers alike fell into the pit and were consumed by the flames.

Dren’s Scuttleboots tried to hold onto solid ground but he too began to slide. Before he could drop to his death, however, he activated his grapple backpack and fired a hook into one of the pillars.

Abram was sliding past Dren as he was being pulled up and the Artificer grabbed the man’s outstretched hand. Terrance and Olaf managed to get to a pillar in time and were clinging on for dear life. The rest were not so lucky; they were devoured by the flames awaiting them.

The fire rose significantly having consumed so many people, greedily licking the walls as it grew. A pair of red eyes emerged from the flames and a wicked black smile formed in the center. “Yes! I feel their power,” the Fire Below said. “They are so afraid and miserable, yet now they have joined me!”

Dren had to act quickly. He swung Abram to the right side of the pillar, where there was flat ground, and then leapt to safety. The cultists began to fire their arrows at the two but Abram was ready. He raised a hand, creating a wind wall that sent the arrows bouncing off, unable to penetrate the force of the great gale that was blowing.

On the other side, Terrance and Olaf made their way onto solid ground, dodging the arrows that were coming their way. Dren regretted bringing so many people now; he had lost almost all of his forces in a single blow and now he didn’t know what to do.

“We’ve got to get that amulet,” Abram said, pointing at the man a level above them. Prefect Markus was soaking this in, gloating and laughing as the group was annihilated. “It seems to be a conduit that is connecting the area to the Fire Below. If we are able to get the amulet and destroy it, we should be able to get out of this nonsense.”

Dren nodded and cast the Speed Boost spell on himself. There were stairs leading up into the balconies on the other side of the outer area they were standing on. All he needed to do was rush the leader.

“Floating Shield, activate!” Dren ordered as he started to run. The shield flew off of his back and hovered to his right side, lifting itself up and zipping left and right to block the arrows coming his way. As he ran, a door to his left opened up and a group of cultists rushed out, armed with spears.

Dren didn’t have time for them and quickly pulled out his Wand of Fireball. He aimed it at the center and fired. The explosion washed over them, incinerating them instantly. He hurried towards the stairs while Abram worked to cast a complex spell.

Terrance and Olaf had the same idea and were making their way from the other side. They ran as fast as they could, but an arrow struck Terrance in the leg, breaking through his armor. The man yelped and fell to the ground. Olaf did not stop to help. The big warrior seemed to be in blind panic and was just trying to get somewhere away from the heat.

They reached the stairs at the same time. “The amulet,” Dren huffed, running up the stairs alongside Olaf. “We have to get it from the Prefect, Abram thinks it’s a conduit to the Fire Spirit.”

“Understood,” Olaf said, dashing up the stairs slightly faster than Dren.

The pair soon reached the balconies where a huge warrior, shirtless and adorned in tattoos, was waiting for them. The warrior carried a massive spiked club made of metal and mocked them as they approached.

“You aren’t getting through here!” he roared, swinging towards both Dren and Olaf at the same time. They tried to evade the strike but Olaf was too slow. The wide club nailed him in the side of his armor and sent him flying. He stumbled down the stairs, leaving Dren to square off with the wild man.

Dren raised his sword and charged, slashing hard across the warrior’s chest. The words 15 Damage hovered in the air as the blow connected. The man’s health dropped from 45 to 30, a hefty amount for a follower. The cultist countered with an overhead swing, dropping his club down atop Dren. The speed boost and the increased speed from his magical sword worked well together and Dren managed to evade the club’s trajectory. He then spun on his heels and landed another deep cut, hitting the man for an additional fifteen health.

Olaf climbed to his feet and charged up the stairs, his battleaxe raised high. He swung the shimmering weapon towards the big cultist but the man’s tattoos activated a spell of some kind. A pulse of white energy washed out around him, throwing both Olaf and Dren backwards.

Dren hit the ground and rolled, getting back to his feet in one swift motion, but Olaf—being so big—wasn’t so agile. The warrior charged the downed man and swung his club hard, crushing Olaf’s head in a single blow.

“No!” Dren shouted, rushing the tattooed cultist from behind. He thrust the blade forward and speared the man through his back. The big warrior’s hand fell to the side, releasing his weapon. He was dead.

Or so he seemed.

Energy raced up from Olaf’s corpse into the warrior, which healed him back to full health. The cultist turned around and took another swing at Dren. Thankfully, his Floating Shield caught the blow, absorbing the attack without a problem.

Dren fell back and activated his twin cannons, the space between them big enough not to get caught in the blast. The cannons fired rapidly, dealing ten damage each and dropping the warrior down to 20 HP.

The tattooed fighter raised his hand to cast a spell, the marks on his arms glowing bright red, but Dren was quick to attempt a counter. Counterspell Success! appeared in his vision and the enemy spell fizzled.

Dren fired again with his cannons but the enemy fighter ducked under the second shot. His health dropped down to ten and he charged. With a grunt, Dren charged too. He was much faster thanks to his spells and enhancements, and with a single thrust, he pierced the heart of the warrior, skewering him and killing him on the spot.

Greater Cultist Defeated! 1,500 XP gained! appeared in Dren’s vision as he pulled his magical blade free of the body.

There was no time to mourn the loss of his comrades. Dren turned and looked up the stairs, preparing to make his way to the top so that he could take down the Prefect. There was no getting out of this situation any other way.

Chapter 34

While Dren had been busy fighting for his life in the stairwell, Abram had cast a spell that disarmed the cultists of their bows. The mage caught up to him, panting for air as he climbed to meet the Artificer.

“They don’t have ranged weapons anymore,” the wizard huffed. “I have a few spells that will be of aid.”

Dren paused to wait for his companion to catch up. It was just the two of them now. The wizard raised a hand and muttered an ancient incantation. Pulses of green energy washed out from his hands and covered Dren.

You have received the Will of the Warrior Buff! +15 Temporary Hit Points!

Your damage has increased by 10!

“And then this one,” Abram said, casting another spell.

You have received the Fire Resistance Buff! You are immune to Fire Attacks for 10 minutes!

“There,” the wizard said. “That’s about all I can do. I’d join you up there but I’m afraid that without a group of warriors to protect me, they’ll make short work of me.”

Dren nodded. “Stay safe, Abram.”

With his new buffs, Dren ascended the right side of the stairwell, making it to the balcony where the cultists were waiting for him. There were about twenty of them, armed with short swords and maces, ready to take the fight to him. But they did not strike. Instead, the Prefect, from his position in his box, waved a hand.

“Let him pass. This man has an air of destiny about him,” he said.

The cultists all stepped aside without hesitation, forming a passage for Dren to reach the Prefect. Dren carefully switched his wands, drawing out his Forcefield Wand. If the man was going to gloat and lecture, Dren could use it to his advantage by keeping the enemy horde out of the fight.

The Artificer approached Markus and stepped into the box. The cultist grinned at that and bowed mockingly to Dren. “You have been marked by the Fire Below. He has given you a bit of health. Truly you did not think that was for your benefit? Oh no, those who receive the mark are destined to receive something much greater.”

Dren raised his sword. “This ends now, Markus. Come with me quietly or I will put you down here before I deal with the rest of the cult.”

“There are too many of us for you to fight at once,” the Prefect replied. “You may have strength but we have sheer numbers. These men do not fear death, nor can they really comprehend it. They have surrendered their wills and their lives to the Fire. Whatever threats you think you can offer are of little use to me. But I wish simply to show you something.”

He raised a hand. Dren took this as an opening and tried to slash his sword at the amulet around his neck. But before he could, time stopped. A thin beam of light came forth from the Prefect’s hand and struck Dren in the center of his head. In an instant, Dren was transported somewhere else entirely.

“What?” Dren asked, turning around in a circle. Everyone was gone. He was no longer inside of the Twisp Manor but rather in some rocky plains where lava flowed freely.

“Welcome to my realm,” a familiar voice said. Dren turned to see the Fire Below standing in front of him, burning brightly as an avatar of flame. “I thought that this would be a better place to discuss.”

“What is there to discuss?” Dren asked. “You are not a god. You are nothing more than a fire spirit who wishes to steal lives and use them as fuel for your own power.”

“Oh, you caught me,” the Fire said. “I do not think of these people as worthy of anything other than mulch to be incinerated for my pleasure. But they are easy to manipulate. Weak. Cowardly. You, on the other hand, well your will is strong and your power! A Level 10 Artificer. The man standing in front of you is an Artificer as well, but he is severely weaker than you. His mind is addled from years of abusing chemicals and he was so easy to turn. You, Den, you are so much stronger than he is.”

“You can skip trying to recruit me,” Dren said. “I am not going to join you, no matter what you try to offer me.”

“I understand you are resistant to my ways,” the Fire Below continued. “But surely there must be something you want? Something that would make you a fine follower of my order? What if I were to give you lordship of Drift City, hm? What if I were to restore your limbs and your face back to their former glory?”

“Those things mean nothing to me,” Dren said. “I will not join you.”

“What if I were to spare your darling woman? Salla, I believe her name is?” the spirit taunted.

A dread chill ran down Dren’s spine. “What are you talking about?”

“Salla is so vulnerable right now. She’s out in the Verdant Forest, living in your Den without you to protect her. How easy it would be for me to dispatch a group of cultists to visit. We wanted to disrupt Arthursberg, to take away its ability to ship large amounts of copper to the city. It is a place I am familiar with. Perhaps I am reaching too high by aiming for Drift City. Maybe I should make her one of my acolytes, one of my finest—”

His words were interrupted as Dren charged forward. The Artificer didn’t have any weapons in his hands but that didn’t matter. The fire spirit dodged easily and flew upwards, above Dren. He chuckled. “It would seem I struck a nerve. Do you really think it isn’t in my power to take what I want, Dren? I marked you because I saw something strong in you. And you have used that strength to improve yourself and to meddle with my affairs. Perhaps I should possess your body? Take control of it and go to see her myself?

“Oh, wouldn’t that be a delicious piece of misery, your beloved girl, strangled to death with that iron hand she admires so much. Oh, and she would have no clue it was me. Her last thoughts would be of your betrayal and how you turned on her without a single warning. I bet that would be enough trauma to bring her back as a spirit, forced to haunt your beloved Den.”

“You can keep taunting me,” Dren said. “But you won’t be able to get to her. Not if I have anything to do with it.”

There was wicked laughter and then Dren found himself right back where he was, mid-swing, aiming towards the amulet.

The Prefect backed away and avoided the blow, which led Dren to activate his backup plan. He triggered the Forcefield Wand so that it created a twenty foot circle around him and Markus, sealing them in.

“You speak to the Fire and still resist?” Markus howled. “Get him!”

The cultists tried to advance but were repelled by the forcefield. Markus realized that he was trapped but didn’t demur. He raised his right hand and a flame cannon popped out onto his wrist. Dren recognized the design as artifice.

“You are an Artificer,” Dren said, watching as the flames tried to wash over him, only for his fire resistance buff to activate and cancel the damage. “And you chose to give up your gifts to some crazy monster?”

The man was surprised that Dren knew about his class and that his cannon had failed. He drew a small hand cannon from his side and tried to aim it at Dren but Dren tossed the sword to his left hand and grabbed the man’s arm with his Autogauntlet. He thrust the limb upwards, forcing the shot to go off into the air.

The Prefect struggled to get free of Dren’s iron grasp but was unable to. Dren delivered a swift punch to the man’s jaw, knocking him down. He then slashed with his off-hand, striking the belly of the Prefect for 20 points of damage.

The man activated something on his belt and energy washed around him, regenerating his health up 10 points. He had 30 HP, but it wasn’t enough to handle Dren at his expert best. The seasoned Artificer slashed again, striking the Prefect once more as he tried to back up and draw a wand. It was the same kind of wand that had killed Arthur Twisp.

Dren kicked the man in the stomach and knocked him back to the ground, then he pressed his blade against the Prefect’s neck. “Surrender, it’s over.’

“Never!” the man shouted, and he tried to pull his wand free of his belt. Dren didn’t hesitate. He slashed with the sword, cutting the man’s head clean off.

The cultists all gasped at the sight. They were pounding on the forcefield, trying to get in to save their leader, but it was useless.

Dren reached down and pulled the amulet off of the stump of the man’s neck and turned around to face the others. “You’ve got about three minutes before the wall comes down. After that, I’m going to kill every last one of you still standing there.”

A few broke rank first. After the first three fled, the others decided that it wasn’t worth it either. They all rushed out, climbing over the balcony or running down the stairs to escape the manor. Dren wiped the sweat from his head as he looked down at the corpse of Prefect Markus. The murderer was dealt with. But the cult was still operational.

Chapter 35

Dren studied the amulet for a few minutes as he looked out at the great fire pit that had since withered up and dissipated. The flames had vanished the moment he pulled the amulet off of the body. The flames were no longer burning in the center of the red gemmed necklace and he wondered what it did. His Identify skill took a few moments to scan it before he read the most interesting piece of information.

Identify Success!

Amulet of Summoning

Description: This powerful amulet is one of six that allows the Prefects of the Cult of the Red to summon the Fire Below. Be warned, for this does not summon an aspect or an avatar of the great spirit but rather summons him to the area. He will often kill those around him to gain more power and then do as he pleases. This amulet cannot control him nor can it dismiss him.

So the amulet in question was able to summon the fire spirit in person? And there were five more just like it. That meant the Fire Below had five other servants who were in the process of serving him, able to summon the monster whenever they desired to speak to him directly or to sacrifice in order to grant him more power.

Dren pondered what to do with something like this. With the Fire Below knowing about Salla and threatening her, this thing wasn’t over just yet. The Cult may try to move to Arthursberg in order to undermine Dren and make his life more miserable. What if there was some way to capture the spirit when he summoned it? Forcing it into some kind of trap that would cut him off from the rest of his followers?

The Fire Below had a direct effect on the will of his people, draining their minds and turning many healthy people into shells of their former selves, compliant and willing to do anything that their dark master demanded. Fighting an entire cult would be an impossible endeavor, especially when Dren had lost his entire force in just one fight. There had to be another way to stop this madness.

As Dren pondered this, he received an alert. Cult Leader Defeated! 3,000 XP Gained! Much to his surprise, this was enough for him to level up! Perhaps there was an answer in the schematics that were available now that he was a Thaumaturgist.

Dren sat on the railing of the balcony and began to peruse his options.

Level Up! You are now Level 11!

You Gain 4 Skill Points! You may purchase a new skill or increase a skill by 1 Rank!

Learned Skills:

Artifice: A

Identify: A

Search: A

Appraise: C

Command: A

Control: B

Trapfinding: A

Mechanics: B

Herbalism: C

Researching: B

Butchery: D

Architecture: C

Meditation: D

Counterspell: D

Aura Sense: C

Unlearned Skills:

Focus: Extends the Duration of a Spell by 1 each Rank.

Siphon: Allows you to drain Mana from Charged Magic Items. Each rank adds more mana.

With those points, Dren decided that he would improve upon his current skills. He increased Counterspell by two ranks, up to B, in order to face the Fire Below’s magic. After that, he brought Meditation up by one point and Aura Sense by one.

After he selected his skills, he looked at the Feats that were available.

You gain 2 Feats! Select from the list below!

Infuser:

Mana Sink: You may store up to 5 Mana into an Invention. At any time, as long as the invention is present, you may draw that Mana out. This may only be done one at a time.

Overclock: You may spend 2 Mana to enhance your Cogbots’ performance for a minute.

Shard Upgrade: Infuse a Shard to an Invention, granting it different upgrade bonuses.

Superior Enhancement: Grant a single invention a +5 bonus to Speed, Defense or HP for a week.

Caster:

Rapid Casting: You may cast a spell for 2 Additional Mana as an Instant Action.

Delayed Spell: You may Delay a Spell for up to a minute to activate after casting.

Counter-Drain: You gain 5 Mana when you Counter a spell.

Favored Spell: Select a spell, reduce its cost by 5 to a minimum of 1 Mana.

Mystic:

Resistance: You gain 20 Points of Armor against Fire, Ice, Electric or Dark Magic. Choose which upon selecting this feat.

Aura Reader: You gain additional information when detecting a magical aura.

Ardent Student: You may memorize Scrolls and cast from them without having to equip them.

Spell Absorption: When struck with a spell, you gain 3 Mana.

There were a few new options but Dren had already decided that he was going to take Shard Upgrade, which would allow him to use these shards that he had found and purchased to improve the various devices that he had built. He was curious as to what the upgrades were. He selected that one and then decided on taking Fire Resistance, just in case things with the Fire Below got out of hand.

You gain 2 Schematics! Level 2 Schematics are unlocked!

Thaumaturge Schematics

Level 1 Conjuring

Binder’s Circle

Description: This metallic circle allows the Artificer to capture an elemental, fairy, demon or spirit, transferring it into a Summon Square. Summon Squares can be used to power inventions, granting bonuses to their function, or they may be used to later Summon the entity to serve you for tasks.

Cost:

100 Red Steel Cubes

25 Blue Nickel Cubes

10 Ethereal Crystal Shards

10 Iron Cubes

Spirit Armor Necklace

Description: This necklace conjures powerful spirit armor that blocks all forms of damage up to 40 points. The armor is reduced each hit.

Cost:

20 Blue Nickel Cubes

5 Dark Crystal Shards

Anti-Spirit Ray

Description: A powerful weapon that deals damage to spirits, ignoring their ethereal state.

Stats:

Range: 50 Feet

Accuracy: 10

Damage: 15

Speed: 3

Targets: 1

Damage Type: Force

Cost:

100 Yellow Band Copper

25 Light Shard Crystals

Level 2 Conjuring

Summoner’s Gloves

Description: These gloves extend the length of your summons by 15 minutes and improve their combat ability.

Cost:

100 Leather Cubes

10 Summoner’s Cubes

Binding Collar

Description: This collar, when placed on a summoned creature, allows it to stay in the realm for as long as it is wearing the device. Improves the strength and speed of the summon as well.

Cost:

125 Silver Cubes

100 Yellow Band Copper

50 Light Shards

Level 1 Wands

Ice Skate Wand

Description: This wand grants the user +10 Speed and the ability to skate across solid ground. The skating ignores all terrain and can move across solid water as well.

Charges: 15

Duration: 1 minute

Cost:

25 Ice Cubes

25 Magic Cubes

10 Blue Nickel Cubes

10 Wood Cubes

Level 2 Wands

Wand of Blindness

Description: This wand causes any target struck by it to become blinded for 10 minutes. A blind individual has significantly reduced speed and defense and all weapon accuracy is reduced to 1.

Charges: 10

Cost:

100 Darkness Cubes

25 Dark Shards

10 Blue Nickel Cubes

10 Wood Cubes

Wand of Invulnerability

Description: Those who are affected by this wand gain +10 Defense and 100 Temporary Hit Points for one minute.

Charges: 5

Cost:

100 Light Cubes

50 Heart Cubes

10 Red Steel Cubes

10 Wood Cubes

Level 1 Rings

Ring of Iron Skin

Description: Wearing this Ring grants you 5 Innate Armor that cannot be damaged.

Cost:

25 Heart Cubes

25 Red Steel Cubes

5 Silver Cubes

Level 2 Rings

Ring of Wallwalk

Description: This ring allows you to pass through solid objects up to twenty feet at a time.

Charges: 20

Cost:

50 Earth Cubes

25 Red Steel Cubes

5 Silver Cubes

Ring of Superior Strength

Description: This ring grants the wearer incredible strength, allowing them to lift up to 250 pounds and adds +5 to their melee damage.

Cost:

100 Heart Cubes

50 Stone Cubes

25 Blue Nickel Cubes

5 Silver Cubes

Dren looked at the options and realized the answer to his question was staring at him in the face. The Binder’s Circle! This invention would allow him to summon the Fire Spirit and then trap it into a summon cube. The spirit would be cut off from his source of power and more importantly, would be unable to escape unless summoned directly by Dren. Then all he needed to do was take it somewhere in the forest and bury it deeply. There were few Artificers out there in the world, so really there was little chance of someone finding a summon cube and knowing what to do with it.

He selected the Circle and then looked at the rest of the choices. It would take some effort to get that many Heart cubes but he quite liked the Ring of Superior Strength. As a Thaumaturgist, he was able to wear up to 4 Artificer’s Rings at a time, and he had two already. The third would improve his ability to handle melee combat better. The ability to grab someone with 250 pounds of force was quite alluring.

Dren finished selecting his schematics and was greeted by a new spell list.

Level 2 Thaumaturgist Spells! Select 2 to Study!

Summon Greater Golem

Description: Allows for you to summon a Greater Golem. These golems have greater capacity for combat and deal more damage. You may summon one of the following:

Frost Golem

Steel Golem

Electricity Golem

Torch Golem

Cost: 10 Mana

Duration: 5 Minutes

Conjure Workshop

Description: Creates a temporary Workshop that only you can access. Within, you will find your entire inventory as well as all the tools necessary to craft.

Cost: 15 Mana

Duration: 1 Week

Build Wall

Description: You may create a wall that is ten feet wide and ten feet tall, made out of iron or wood. This wall has 100 hit points and cannot be dispelled.

Cost: 10 Mana

Duration: 15 Minutes

Stoneshape

Description: You are able to manipulate solid stone, opening it, closing it or forming it into a shape that you wish. The effects of this spell are permanent.

Cost: 5 Mana

Duration: Permanent

Flamethrower

Description: You release a burst of perpetual flame that deals 15 damage per second to all targets within a 20 foot cone.

Duration: Instant

Cost: 5 Mana per second

Summon Invention

Description: You immediately retrieve one of your inventions, teleporting it to your location.

Duration: 8 Hours

Cost: 20 Mana

Blink

Description: You are able to teleport up to 100 feet away, though you cannot pass through solid objects.

Duration: Instant

Cost: 10 Mana

Healing Touch

Description: Your touch grants 10 HP to a damaged target. You may also target yourself.

Duration: Instant

Cost: 5 Mana

These level two spells were no joke, though Dren only had access to two of them at a time. Their mana costs were quite high but he already had some ideas. He selected Summon Invention, and Summon Greater Golem, in case there was any resistance getting out of the manor.

Dren finalized his choices and grinned at the sight of his updated character sheet. He was truly becoming one of the strongest Artificers in the city, perhaps even the world!

Name: Dren

Class: Artificer

Specialization: Cog Commander

Mastery: Thaumaturge

Level: 11

XP: 1,000/11,000

Stats:

HP: 27

MP: 26

Speed: 3

Defense: 7

Poison: +5

Skills:

Artifice: A

Identify: A

Search: A

Appraise: C

Command: A

Control: B

Trapfinding: A

Mechanics: B

Herbalism: C

Researching: B

Butchery: D

Architecture: C

Meditation: C

Counterspell: B

Aura Sense: B

Abilities:

Reduce to Elements: With a mere touch, you are able to Reduce any Inert Object to its elements. This takes 1 minute per Element received. The object is dissolved and you gain a collection of Elements based on the quality and purity of the object. These Elements become cubes that have weight.

Combine Elements: When you have access to Elements in Pure or Cube Form, you can combine them to produce an Effect. These Effects must be discovered and are automatically recorded by the System for later replication.

Craft Designs: If you have a Schematic and the appropriate Crafting Material, you are able to craft with Artifice.

Spellcaster: You gain access to a Spell List that you can draw from in order to cast spells. Each day you may choose 4 Spells to cast at Will.

Mana Charge: You gain +10 Mana.

Improved Caster: You may Study 2 additional spells each day.

Feats:

Break It Down: Destroying a Magical Item grants its Schematic.

Build Faster: Adds +20% Progress each time you Work on a Design.

Hard Stomach: You gain +5 Defense against Poisons.

Upgrades!: Select one Schematic and unlock 3 Upgrades.

Rebuilder: You can repair broken inventions after 3 days of work.

Extra Schematic: You gain one additional Schematic this level.

Cheaper Builds: Reduce the copper cost by 10 to a minimum of 1.

Linked I: You can Command up to 2 Cogbots with a single Command Point.

Cog Upgrades: You can now upgrade existing Cogbots.

Metallurgist: You may use your Artifice Skill for any metalwork

Superior Cog Upgrades: You can now Upgrade your Cogbots in batches of up to 6, paying the base cost for only one.

Compassionate Commander: Your Companions gain +5 HP as long as they are in the field with you.

Defensive Position: All Companions gain +4 Defense and +2 Speed.

Room and Board: Staff do not require Upkeep or Pay.

Energy Reserve: Gain 10 Additional Mana Points.

Power Shield: You may spend 5 Mana to create a Power Shield that blocks 15 Damage total before breaking. Lasts until expended and stacks with other shield spells.

Enhance Gear: You may spend 1 Mana to grant a +2 Speed, HP or Defense bonus to an item you have equipped. Lasts one week.

Fire Resistance: You gain 20 Points of Armor against Fire.

Shard Upgrade: Infuse a Shard to an Invention, granting it different upgrade bonuses.

Schematics

Cogbotics:

Level 1:

Skitterbot

Level 2:

Shieldbot

Cannon Friend

Level 3:

Floating Crossbow

Crewbot

Automatons:

Level 1:

Autogauntlet

Upgrades:

Strength

Combat Efficiency

Skill Increase

Element Extractor

Level 2:

Mechanical Turk

Steam Wagon

Level 3:

Crafting Machine

Combat:

Level 1:

Junk Gun

Level 2:

Spell Pistol

Level 3:

Wandgun

Hand Cannon

Exploration:

Level 1:

Scurry Boots

Walking Bug

Level 2:

Autograpple Backpack

Level 3:

Mining Mole

Stalking Bug

Wands:

Level 1:

Wand of Fireball

Forcefield Wand

Rings:

Level 1:

Ring of Vanishing

Ring of Regeneration

Level 2:

Ring of Superior Strength

Conjuration:

Level 1:

Binder’s Circle

Spell List:

Grease

Summon Golem

Speed Boost

Dispel

Find Secret Doors

Spell Bolt

Enhance Item

Summon Greater Golem

Summon Invention

Flamethrower

Chapter 36

The manor was eerily silent now that the cult had retreated. Dren met with Abram in the stairwell and found that the old man was no worse for wear. He recounted what happened and showed the amulet to the mage, further explaining what he intended to do now. Abram was thrilled with the idea but did not volunteer to assist, namely because of the harrowing adventure that he had just gone through.

They found Terrance, alive and limping up the stairs as they headed downwards. The guard was in good spirits, despite the fact that he had lost all of his men. He considered the news of the Prefect’s defeat to be good and the three explored the rest of the manor to see if there were any prisoners or survivors.

In the wine cellar, they made a startling discovery. There were almost a hundred people trapped down there, men and women who were all citizens of the city. A few were relatives of Arthur Twisp, starving and ragged. To say that Dren was hailed as a hero by these people would be an understatement. The people practically fell at his feet worshiping him once Abram told them the tale of how he defeated the Prefect.

With the band of prisoners now freed, Dren and his allies headed back to the city. Things were far from over in Dren’s head and he drew up a plan on how to defeat the Fire Below once and for all. It was risky but the monster had threatened Salla. He simply couldn’t live with himself if anything happened to her because of him.

Once the prisoners were brought to the Clerics, Abram and Terrance left Dren alone to his own devices. He worked quickly, knowing that every second counted.

First, he returned to Orlin’s apartment to tell Ariel that he needed the key to her shop. He explained in detail that he was planning on disarming the cult, after which she would be free to go out of hiding and to return to her work. She was quite helpful, agreeing to give him the key and furnish every supply required to see the Cult of the Red destroyed. This was good, because he was low on cash after his last shopping trip.

He made his way to the store and ransacked it, taking as many materials as he needed in order to make the Binder’s Circle. Then he was workshop bound, where he spent a few precious days working on the invention.

The device was difficult to construct as it required a lot of precision. The instructions in his mind told him that there was no leeway with his angles. He had to build a triangle from a wooden beam perfectly, ensuring that every angle was without flaw or jaggedness. Then, he needed to use the various cubes to form intersection points along the sides of the triangle, forming teeth on the inside of the shape. Each cube had to be hammered in carefully and measured to ensure there was a two inch gap between each tooth.

After he laid out the foundation, he installed the Ethereal Crystal shards at the corners of the triangle, each one jutting outwards to build the capturing formation. Blue Nickel was laid out into sheets within the triangular shape, creating a floor that would prevent the spirit from being able to leave through the ground.

He used a measuring tape several times to ensure that each part of the triangle was in the right spot. After that, he shaved down the Iron cubes and sprinkled the shavings in a wide circle around the trapping device. The iron would prevent any outside energy from getting in.

By the fourth day, Dren was finished with the bulky device. But it would be a fool’s game to try and use it inside of his workshop, as he was in a populated area. The power of the Fire Below was unknown to him but it certainly would try to drain the life forms around him. And so, once the Binder’s Circle was completed, Dren left Drift City and headed deep into the woods.

He used his new spell, Summon Invention, to conjure up his Mining Mole. The great drilling machine appeared before him and he climbed aboard, digging deep into the earth until he found hard stone. The Artificer drove in a circle, forming a cave that was twenty feet wide.

With a few jugs of water that he had collected from a nearby river, Dren then began to pour it all over the ground and the walls, soaking everything thoroughly. This may not work terribly well but every bit of precautions counted.

Once Dren was finished with carving out the cavern, he meditated to regain his mana pool. Then, he summoned the Binder’s Circle in the center of the cave. The circle appeared, perfectly aligned with everything in place.

A few more minutes of meditation saw Dren regain enough mana for another spell, though he waited to cast that one. He checked the area once more, blocked the tunnel leading out of the cavern with as many rocks as he could pack, and then finally readied his spell. He cast Summon Greater Golem to summon a Frost Golem.

The golem appeared and Dren didn’t waste any time. With all of his enhancements ready, weapons prepared and spells attuned to, he stood in the circle and activated the amulet that would call upon the Fire Below.

At once, there was a booming laughter as the amulet floated in the air. Dren jumped off the wooden platform and took a few steps back, raising his Wand of Forcefield just in case. The amulet bobbed up and down as the Fire Below began to form. The flaming silhouette appeared and solidified, bringing forth a monstrous entity with a wicked black smile and two gleaming red eyes.

“I must feed!” he bellowed. The Fire Below paused for a moment and looked around. “I don’t understand, where are my sacrifices? My followers?”

“I’m afraid I’m the only member of your audience today,” Dren said. The Fire Below turned to notice the Artificer and laughed wickedly.

“You tried to summon me? Aren’t you a fool? No matter, I shall devour your life essence to gain strength once more!”

The monster fired three lashes of flames from his hands. But when they reached the ethereal crystals, which flashed brilliantly, a barrier of prismatic energy rose up and formed a triangle around the creature. “I don’t understand,” he roared. “Let me have your energy!”

He lashed out once more and the prismatic wall shook for a moment but still held. The Fire Below tried to move out of the triangle but the iron shavings gleamed bright blue for a moment, holding him back in.

“It would seem that your mighty power can be felled by a clever application of artifice,” Dren replied. He approached the large lever that enabled the device to activate. “For all of your trickery and cleverness, you failed to realize that without your followers to do your bidding, you’re just an angry fire spirit. You are no god.”

“I am a god amongst your kind!” the Fire Below screamed. “You will not contain me!” He began to fire with all of his might, pouring out a real inferno. The prismatic walls containing him started to flicker as the crystals were consuming too much energy. Dren pulled the lever but nothing happened. The summon still held too much power.

“Frost Golem, freeze him!” Dren ordered.

The golem raised its jagged hands and released a torrent of sleet and ice that crashed into the monster standing in the middle of the circle. The Fire Below let out an agonizing shriek and fell to the ground, overwhelmed by the pain of pure ice.

“It would seem your power is limited,” Dren said. He went to pull the lever again.

“Wait!” the Fire Below pleaded, trying to stand but unable to as the Greater Golem doused him with a continual spell of ice and snow. “You cannot bind me! I am the Fire Below, the greatest god your people will ever see.”

“The Hosts are the ones who bless us, you are just a tricky monster who is able to drain the wills of those who are desperate for healing,” Dren replied. This time, when he yanked the lever, the device activated.

The great fire spirit howled in misery as the crystals began to charge up. He was forced to float in the center of the triangle, thrashing and fighting to break free of the binding power. But it was no use. Dren had worked hard on making a precise capture device and for all of the Fire Below’s bluster, in the end he was just a spirit. An elemental being from another plane. An outsider whose power was limited compared to conjuration magic.

The crystals fired into his gleaming body at once, turning the red silhouette of the monster into a brilliant rainbow. The Fire Below struggled, tried to fight this off, but the Binding Circle worked its magic perfectly and the various elements all combined to create a prison around the monster. The Fire Below let out one final roar of defiance, attempting to break out, but moments later, he was trapped within a large square that plopped to the ground.

Dren approached the square and examined it.

Summon Square: The Fire Below

Description: Contains a powerful fire spirit from the fire planes. It is not recommended that you summon him.

“And just like that, you are no longer the master of this realm, nor a threat to this city,” Dren said. He picked up the warm cube and looked within. He could see a small burning ball of fire, thrashing about and trying to push its way out of the cube. This had absolutely no effect and the warm square didn’t even twitch. Eventually the sphere of flame ceased trying to escape and became nothing more than an ember, perpetually burning and glaring at Dren with utter rage.

The Artificer headed over to a small hole that he had dug in the makeshift cavern. He placed the square in the mound of dirt and began to fill the hole. After it was buried, he entered meditation for several hours to change his spell to Stoneshape. He filled the cavern with rocks before climbing out of the tunnel and collapsing it from the inside. Another wave of his hand and the earth below him was sealed for good. He was in the middle of nowhere, a forest far from Drift City. And the Fire Below, for all of his power and manipulation, would never find another victim to sacrifice again.

Epilogue

Things in Drift City changed the day Dren returned to it. People were wandering out into the streets from all over, discarding their red cloaks and asking for help. Within a week, hundreds of cultists emerged from the Underground Apartments, no longer under the effects of the terrible monster that had drained their wills.

With Terrance’s testimony and the remaining Twisp clan to tell of the harrowing nightmare they had encountered in their manor, the City Administration finally made an effort to begin collecting the conspirators who had not experienced will drain. Raids on towers and shops began and dozens of collaborators were captured and brought to prison for their crimes against the city and their fellow man.

Many of these villains shared the same testimony, that they were just serving their god until he mysteriously vanished. Still, the courts ruled that the Cult was not a religion but a military organization. Weapons and artifacts of power were found in the headquarters, backing up the fact that these cultists were planning on taking over Drift City.

Dren didn’t tell anyone of his success with the Fire Below. Rather, he simply headed back to his workshop and began to pack up. Abram stopped by briefly to tell him that he should share his news with the whole city, that he should be regarded as a hero for his actions. But Dren wasn’t after the limelight. He didn’t want to be celebrated as some champion. Rather, all he wanted to do was just go home. After all, he had left everything behind in order to find the murderer and that was just what he had done. Yes, it was a risk to capture the Fire Below, but Dren figured that if no one knew why that dark pseudo-deity was no longer answering to anyone, then there was no chance that one of his hidden followers would begin searching for him.

Ariel was thrilled that the cult was disarmed and returned to her shop. Orlin tried to convince Dren to stay and work as a member of the guild, but Dren wouldn’t hear of it. The only thing that he cared about was going home.

Life in the big city was exciting but ultimately overwhelming to him. He had grown homesick and wanted nothing more than to return to his original Den. And so he packed up everything he had, loaded up the Walking Bug and bid the few friends he had made farewell.

The trip home was thankfully a quiet one. Once Dren was out of range of the city, the mark on his leg had vanished and his hit points returned to normal, no longer gaining the buff. That was a shame, but he was glad that it was gone. He had always felt as if the Fire Below was somehow watching him with the mark but now the creature was hidden away from all sight. No one would ever find it and even if they did, what would anyone know about an Artificer’s summon square?

It was in the early morning when his Walking Bug came within range of good old Arthursberg. The town was unchanged, despite Dren’s absence. He saw everything he had been missing: Marvin’s Magic Shop, the mine in the back and the various shops that he now did business with.

The people all came out to watch him with curiosity as he rode past them without bothering to get down. He might miss the town but the folks were still an acquired taste. He saw them pointing and whispering once more and for a moment, he regretted the anonymity of Drift City. But the hustle and bustle could not compare to the warmth of the reception he received from his people once he made it past the town and to his beloved Den.

The Den was a tower now, with two levels atop it—though, compared to the towers of the city, it may as well just be a two story house. He parked the bug outside and lowered it, climbing out to see his people all waiting for him.

The goblins came out to greet him first, singing and dancing at his safe return. Salla was second, rushing out to give him a great big hug and an even bigger kiss. Dren held her in his arms and kissed her back, emboldened from the last few weeks that had threatened not only his life but her safety. In the back of his mind he was worried that something had happened to her, but she was safe and sound.

“Dren! You’re back!” Salla said, kissing him over and over again. “You’re finally back!”

“You were a real life saver, getting me my inventory so quickly,” Dren replied, holding her tightly.

“Dren,” Princess Dagon said as she emerged from the tower. “How was your adventure?”

“Yes,” Sandra Twisp asked, following the Princess. “How was it?”

“Sandra, you should know that your ex-husband has been avenged. I found the man who was responsible for his death. It was not corporate espionage but a strange affair. I should tell you about it some time.”

The woman nodded in satisfaction. “While you were gone, I handled business for my dear ex-husband. The corporations are all in agreement. The Undersuit will go into production and will be sold on schedule. I thought you would be pleased.”

“You know, Sandra, business isn’t really for me,” Dren said with a long face. “I found a lot when I was out there in Drift City. And the thing I found the most is that I’m an Adventurer as much as I am an Artificer. The big city taught me that.” He looked at Dagon and then back at the woman in his arms.

“I also realized two things when I was out there. First, that Salla, I love you so dearly. You are the world to me and I would be remiss if I didn’t come back and make you my wife.”

Salla squealed in delight at that and hugged him tightly, kissing his neck. “Yes, yes, of course yes!”

“And Princess Dagon? If I’m going to start a family here, then I want to make sure that the Westend Mine is safe and sound. There was a delay in my ability to help, but I’m high enough level now. I’m ready to conquer the Dungeon Core within, as I promised you so long ago.”

The Princess smiled curtly at that. “Good. Then let’s get to it.”