working in room 1. +5 forge, +5 anvil, +5 Tinkerer's Hammer, +5 Tinkerer's Ring
Weaponsmith Arte: Advanced Rookie Monster One Hand Weapon using one refined monster weapon materials from Floor 1-5 and 1 post of work, one can create a One Handed Weapon at a level 1 Forge, with +5 to quality. ))
Name: Alyxandeyr Level: 20 HP: 462 AP: 25 LP: 2
He had all of his materials prepared now. His next step was to actually craft the ten daggers that he would be feeding to Illfang. He'd figure out how exactly to do that when he saw what the leech parts were capable of, though he had a feeling that that infinity kit was going to produce a weapon that was worth creating. Alyx wondered how his quality could have been so subpar with the majority of kits, but he focused on thanking his lucky stars that he'd rallied at the end, when it mattered most. There was no telling how rare those materials were, and he had wanted to get the most out of them that he could. Thankfully, RNGeesus had heard his prayers.
Alyx had decided that his own weapon was powerful enough as is, and that Cthaer would benefit most from an infusion of power. As if that kid needed any more power. Almost everything the Shade killed went down in a single strike, although that may have changed now that the weapon system had been rebalanced. Illfang was an impressive dagger, to be sure, but Cthaer did not have the experience necessary to use it t its full potential. That said, Alyx had noticed a potential exploit in the patch notes: while the weapon's main combat stats were capped, the secondary stats --poison, bleed and the like-- were capped by a different metric. If Alyx was right in his suspicions, a weapon might meet its poison cap and bleed cap separately, resulting in a weapon that could inflict both status effects at their full rating. Illfang could be capable of dealing massive damage over time despite Cthaer's inexperience, allowing him to take on bigger and badder enemies in order to gain experience even more quickly.
The speed of the boy's growth wouldn't be such a problem if it weren't for the incredible amount of premeditation and planning that went into each thrust of the Shade's blade. Cthaer spent longer lining up each shot than most people spent on the entire combat against such a mob. Alyx could not fault the assassin on his process, though: it worked. Cthaer's patience and meticulousness gave the rogue's every strike a remarkable finality. Light of step and keen of eye, Cthaer stalked his opponent and took its measure. Only when he was certain that it was the perfect time to strike would he lash out from the shadows before disappearing into the darkness, the only evidence of his ever having been there the corpse of his victim, left behind where it had died, without ceremony. Cthaer trafficked in cold, calculated murder, and his product was the best on the market. Alyxandeyr had long been sure of that fact.
It had been a month since Alyx had met Cthaer. Having taken another job, the bounty hunter had been on high alert, searching for the slightest clue that he was being followed. Alyx could see how he might have missed the assassin's tail this long, but, now that he was searching for it, Alyx was noticing more and more evidence of his unseen traveling companion. The sound of an animal bolting, a rustle of leaves that didn't quite line up with the wind's cadence. Alyx was sure that he was still being followed. Once, he even glimpsed a fleeting green shadow in the trees, camouflaged against the foliage. So the little whelp wasn't a ghost. Alyx was relieved. Now that he knew that he could spot the assassin, he felt confident that he would be able to get some privacy when he needed it.
Or so he thought. One morning while rising, Alyx found two people at his fire pit. One of them Alyx recognized immediately as the assassin who had been stealing his jobs. The other was a figure in a green cloak. They sat beside each other, the assassin speaking conversationally to the stranger, eating an apple from the end of a knife with his pointed teeth.
"You know, you are just terrible conversation."
"Excuse me?"
"Oh, no. Not you. You are performing near or at expectations. I'm talking to this stiff. Horribly impolite." The boy tossed what was left of his apple aside and put his knife down in the stranger's thigh. The screams confirmed that the blade had found bone. The boy calmly wiped his hands clean on the stranger's cloak and stood to greet Alyx properly. He was interrupted, and had to wait for the man to stop screaming before he could start. "Rude." Taking a breath, the boy offered a hand to Alyx. "I don't think we were properly introduced. My name is Cthaer. Most people just call me Cutter."
Alyx shook the boy's ghostlike hand and felt a cold chill travel up his spine. "Alyx."
"Nice to meet you. You may be wondering who our guest is, and what he's doing here aside from practicing his admittedly lovely soprano."
Alyx looked at the cloaked figure, whose bound hands were tentatively touching his newest appendage. "The question had crossed my mind, yes."
"Well, this is the man that was sent to stop you from doing your job. Apparently there was a petition. It may come as a surprise to you, but you were being followed. It's something of a new sport, and it seems to be catching on. If this keeps up up, we'll have to start organizing tournaments soon. There is the subject of copyright. We'll need a name. And a logo. And then there's the subject of rules and regulations. Do you think we can find a referee?"
Alyx watched as the train of thought began picking up speed and decided to get it off the tracks. "Cthaer! Of course I was being followed. By you."
"Is that what you thought? Oh, no, no, no. Green doesn't really work for me; I'm more of a winter."
Alyx just shook his head. "So why are we having this conversation?"
Cthaer clapped the stranger on the back, and the prisoner whimpered, breathing fast and shallow. "Well, it directly affects my bottom line. Whether he's here to kill you or just to hassle you, if messes with our partnership."
Alyx bristled. "We are not partners."
Cthaer shrugged. "We work the same jobs, we share the same workload... It sure sounds like we're partners. Doesn't it sound like we're partners?" The stranger whimpers and nods, clearly terrified. "Semantics aside, though --we can cover branding at the next corporate retreat-- this guy was trying to mess with our business-"
"-My business."
"Yeah, our business, and it would be irresponsible to let him do that. So I invited him here for a peaceful chat. He came of his own volition, and here we are. Isn't that right, buddy?" He clapped the man's back again, eliciting more moaning and whimpering. "Really eloquent fellow, usually. Must be having an off day."
"Must be. Who sent him?"
"Your guess is as good as mine. He was waiting to see who took this job, and followed you from there. So I'm leaning toward genetic engineered superfoods. I say we start at the top of the pyramid and work our way down. I've always figured that lard was up to something."
Alyx rubbed his temples. "I see. Well, he won't be an issue. I think he gets the point, and he won't be bothering us again. Let him go."
"Really?" Sigh. "Well, you are an important subsidiary to the company, you should get a vote. I suppose we can send him home. First, though, I'll need to thank you, sir, for holding my knife." Cthaer grabbed the knife and tried to pull it out of the man's thigh, meeting resistance. "Man, it's really in there. You're doing a great job at holding this thing." He turned to Alyx. "See what I'm doing? It's positive reinforcement. It's an important part of running a successful business. Nurturing potential in your subordinates, even if they are just consultants." Cthaer began shaking the knife back and forth, breaking it loose as the sound of bone cracking was drowned out by screams. Finally, it came free, and Cthaer looked at it before wiping the blood off on the man's cloak.
"And, just to show that there are no hard feelings, we're going to send you home with a handsome severance package: your very own horse!" The man peered nervously from under his cloak, pressing his bound hands to his knife sheathe. "A horse?"Cthaer looked at the man, the boy standing beside a brown bay gelding that was tied up nearby. "Yes, sir. Time to send you on your way!" Cthaer slapped the animal on the flank, dropping the reins and watching as it galloped away. The man watched the horse running "You're not really letting me have the horse, are you?"Cthaer looked offended. "Sir, do you think I would lie to you? We at this company have a long and respected tradition of honesty in our promises and business practices. Of course you are getting the horse."
There was a sound. It sounded like... The man closed his eyes as he realized what was about to happen. The rope tied to the horse's saddle snapped taut and the stranger jerked off of his seat, his bound ankles leading his decidedly uncomfortable journey across the forest floor. His arms, wrists, and ankles were all bound with thorny vines, and every bump and roll pressed them even more painfully into his flesh.
Cthaer looked down, and picked up a green fabric. "Wait! You forgot your cloak!... Well, I guess he just didn't want it anymore."
Alyx eyed the boy. "You're kind of twisted, you know that?"
"Thank you." The boy held the fabric to his arm. "Man, green really isn't my color." Cthaer gasped. "Oh, would you look at that? All that blood will never come out. Who could have been so thoughtless. Oh, well. It's ruined." He cast the garment aside.
"I do have one question, though: Why did you send him with your horse?"
The boy raised an eyebrow, brushing dirt off of his hands. "Oh, that? No, I don't ride horses. They smell funny."
"Well, I don't ride a horse. So whose horse was it?"
Cthaer seemed to think for a moment. "I... have no idea."
Current skills in use: Monstercraft: 23 Evasion: 23 Heavy armor: 23 Endurance: 62 Current active titles:
: +1 to OHSS and block rolls : +2 to all rolls while in groups, +2 to all crafting rolls
Current equipment:
Main hand:Name: Gloomfang Description: A legendary straight sword harvested by Alyxandeyr, the Gloomking, from slaying a Gloomweave Spider. The blade, which sprouts from the mouth of a small gloomweave spider, glistens with a sickening sheen, venom permanently coating its silvery-purple edge. The hilt of the sword features a sickly crossguard, the legs of the spider curling upward toward the blade. When Alyx wraps his fingers around the silk-covered hilt, the legs of the spider constrict with the crepitant sound of old bones to secure the weapon to his fist. Dropped by: Gloomweave Spider Type: One Hand Straight Sword +198 roll1 (196.88 ) +153.89 damage +15.2 poison for 6 rounds durability: 100/100.14 Upgrade: 1/55 (+1.25 roll1) Chroma: 0/1 Off-hand: Name: Aegis of the Usurper Description: A legendary shield harvested by Alyxandeyr, the Gloomking, from a gloomweave spider. The shield is a preserved gloomweave spider carapace. The fangs of the spider thrust forward past the wearer's fist, and the spinneret extends to protect Alyxandeyr past his left elbow. When held at rest, the point of the shield rises almost to Alyx' shoulder. The eyes of the spider shine softly, watching his enemies, and the fangs glisten with venom. Type: shield +66.65 roll1 damage capacity: 57.98 poison: +2 for 6 rounds Durability: 46/46.15 Upgrade: 1/54 Chroma: 0/1 Head: Mantle of the Gloomking Type: Helmet (cloak) Stats: immunity to effects Upper armor: Heavy Gloombeetle Upper Crafted by: Alyxandeyr stat: damage mitigation: 24 | 54 damage reduction: 1 | 3 upgrade: 0/14 Lower armor: Heavy Gloombeetle Lower Crafted by: Alyxandeyr stat: damage mitigation: 22 | 49 damage reduction: 1 | 3 upgrade: 0/11 Ring1: Gloombeetle Ring: Type: Ring +1 damage reduction per attack while worn. Ring2: Gloomrat Ring: Type: Ring +2 poison damage per round per attack while worn Ring3: Bone Ring: A ring made of bone. Wearing this ring allows the player to transform into a skeleton for 5 posts at a time, once per battle. As a skeleton, the player is immune to , , any blood-borne effects (such as paralysis from a bite attack). However, the player will take 25% additional damage from crushing weapons, and will be treated as . Can only wear one Bone Ring at a time. Ring4: Necklace: Trophy: Dire Wolf Trophy (stage 1): The massive paw of a Dire Wolf preserved with techniques that infused Light into the material. While active, this trophy grants the user +5 to their base AP. Combat pet: Utility pet:
Second set:
Main hand: Name: Gloomshard Description: An elegant One Hand Straight Sword that has a white hilt and an almost white pale blade that seems to softly glow from within. It is adorned with brightly polished silver fittings, including a straight, broad crossguard and a small, crown-shaped pommel. It is named because it is as though a shard of light has been made physical and forged into a weapon. Crafted By: Rota Emptiet Abyssian Type: One Hand Straight Sword Durability: 10 Stats: +6 roll1 +10 damage Upgrade: 0/26 Off-hand Name: Gloomguard Crafted by: Rota Emptiet Abyssian Type: shield Durability: 12/13 Stats: +10 roll1 15 damage capacity Upgrade: 0/11
((Borrowed 5 gloomweave spider fangs from Alyxandeyr, and 2 egg nog.
Alchemy Arte: rookie venom extraction Using any single monster part from the first five floors that can be used to create a poison-type weapon, the alchemist can extract an amount of venom at a level 1 workbench or alchemy station.
+5 cauldron, +5 tinkerer's mortar and pestle ))
Name: Cthaer Level: 4 HP: 80 AP: 4 LP: 0
Cthaer was visiting Alyx and Rota's house for the first time, and he nodded. It already felt like home. He went into the room that held the cauldron and workbench that he would be using for alchemy, and produced his Tinkerer's Mortar and Pestle. He would, today, begin working toward his goal of becoming a master alchemist. That all began with gloomweave spider fangs, and he'd transferred five of them to himself from Alyx' inventory. He wasn't sure what sort of materials he would receive from five fangs, but given their relative rarity, he didn't figure that it would be a negligible amount. Enough to get him started down the path to mastery, at least. It seemed that all he had to do was break the fangs down, refining their toxins to be able to use them for the production of a stronger potion. He already dealt a ridiculous amount of poison damage, but he figured that in order to unlock the more useful crafting recipes, he would need experience.
Of his few crafting recipes, his offensive options were well limited to the realms of poison, so he'd just go down that path until it led to something more useful. He was waiting for a little free time for Alyx to start pumping some bleed damage into Illfang, but it was going to take a little bit to make that happen. He figured that Alyx could also experiment with those ingredients from the next floor: leech parts might make interesting weapons. If life drain were a thing, it would make way more sense for Cthaer to have it than for Alyx to use it.
And then Cthaer might be able to get down to business and actually start leveling up his combat skills. It was getting very difficult to actually level his dagger, hide, and scan skills at rates that were appreciable. He almost considered just farming all three separately, but it would still take the same amount of work to do that as it would to do it the way he was currently working. What was his recourse, then? Would he just have to... Wait. That could do it. If he stopped stalking spiders, he could start stalking larger prey. Higher levels mean more experience. That does mean that there would be more danger, though. If he wasn't able to hide from them, he'd have to figure out a way to actually fight them, and he wasn't entirely confident in his ability to take a bear down in a fair fight.
He'd at least have a little bit of material to use for poison, but poison damage wasn't exactly what he was lacking. With a little finesse, he had all the poison he could ever need coating the blade that was held in his sash. Hopefully, once Alyx was done with Illfang, it would be capable of much more. So what was the next logical step for him? He was just not skilled enough to make the most out of Illfang's unnatural power as it was, so he'd need some way to make up that deficit. Good, old-fashioned hard work would do the trick, but he was sort of in the mood to try something stupid, impossible, and bordering on suicidal. So what was there left to do, then? Well, he could storm the gloomqueen. Or the dire wolf. With his dagger skill of five. Yeah, that would be a bad idea, even for him. So he'd have to start small-ish. He'd have to find a way to have a protracted fight without fighting something that could stomp him into the dirt. Essentially, he needed to learn to dodge. Well, that could be accomplished in all sorts of ways, but, for the easy-path player in him, he considered a rather more murderous option. He'd have to go back into the gloomwood.
Current skills in use: Alchemy: 1 Current active titles:
Current equipment:
Main hand: Name: Illfang Description: A dagger masterfully created from the Light of a fallen gloomrat. It is a peerless weapon for its class, and it seems to hungrily drink the light from its surroundings, coating it in an almost purple shadow. The hilt and dagger are curved in opposite directions, with the edge of the blade following the outside of its curve. Through its shadowy aura, a soft glint of light reflects off the blade, making it seem like it is dipped in black paint. Type: Dagger Durability: 16/16 Stats: roll1: +44 damage: +14 poison: +4 for 4 rounds per attack crit: if roll1 is 80 or above, *1.2 damage Upgrade: 0/54 Off-hand: Head: Boar helmet: The head of a boar, hollowed out and reinforced to make it into a helmet. The tusks are serrated and tipped in metal.
While worn, will grant you +1 to all damage dealt to an opponent. Upper armor: Name: Gloomsilk Shirt Type: upper Grade: light Stats: when worn as a set, provides immunity to poison, and a maximum of 6 damage reduction via light armor skill. by itself, reduces duration of poison by 1 round, and mitigates a maximum of 3 damage via light armor skill Lower armor: Name: Gloomsilk Pants Type: lower Grade: light Stats: when worn as a set, provides immunity to poison, and a maximum of 6 damage reduction via light armor skill. by itself, reduces duration of poison by 1 round, and mitigates a maximum of 3 damage via light armor skill Ring1: gloomweave ring Ring2: gloomweave ring Ring3: gloomweave ring Ring4: gloomweave ring Necklace: Gloomboar necklace type: necklace stats: -1 bleed damage taken per turn Trophy: Gloomweave Queen Trophy (stage 1): A trophy infused with the Light of the Gloomweave Queen. While active, this trophy grants the user +2 poison damage for three rounds on all attacks, regardless of whether they naturally deal poison damage or not. The trophy itself is a small spider about the size of a tennis ball(a baby queen) petrified and suspended on a rope made of spider silk. Combat pet: Utility pet:
Second set:
Main hand: Name: Rookie dagger Type: dagger Durability: 2 Stats: +2 damage +10% damage if natural roll1 is 90 or greater Off-hand:
Name: Nabe-Gane spear Type: One handed Spear | dur4 | dam +5 | 1 bleed 3 turns
Gloomcat THSS: 94+23 Qual: 0/9
Gloombeetle OHA: 91+23 Qual: 0/5
Name: Beetle Carapace One Handed Axe Type: One Hand Axe | dur: 5 | +4 dam
Name: Rookie Greataxe Type: Two hand Axe | dur 2 | +4 dam
Name: Rookie Shortsword Type: one hand straight sword | dur 2 | +2 dam
the first 6 gloomcat daggers and the gloomcat greatsword will be placed into gloomcat dagger 1, maxing it out at 7/7
inoshishi and the nabe-gane spear, along with both beetle OHA, the rookie THA, and rookie OHSS will be placed into gloomcat dagger 2, leaving it at 6/6
both leech daggers will be individually placed into Illfang without modification, then gloomcat daggers 1 and 2 will follow suit, leaving Illfang with 4/54
altogether this will take
7+6+1+1+1+1=17 posts, or 68 lines
Due in part to an unexpected surplus of lines, Alyx will be refining 2 gloomcat fangs into a kit, crafting a dagger out of that, and then putting that dagger directly into Illfang.
Altogether, 20 posts, or 80 lines.
x18 Weaponsmith Arte: Superior Refine Weapon Paying either the ingot/monster part cost of crafting the target weapon or sacrificing a whole weapon, one can strengthen the target weapon at a level 1 Forge, with +10 to the quality roll. The weapons do not need to be the same type to be combined in this way, and no special qualities will be carried from the sacrificed weapon to the target weapon.
x1 Monstersmith Arte: Expert refine monster material 2 monster materials produce 1 refined monster material, with +25 to the quality roll, in 1 post at a level 1 forge
x1 Weaponsmith Arte: Superior Rookie Monster One Hand Weapon using one refined monster weapon materials from Floor 1-5 and 1 post of work, one can create a One Handed Weapon at a level 1 Forge, with +10 to quality.))
Name: Alyxandeyr Level: 20 HP: 462 AP: 25 LP: 2
...Well. not every crafting session can be made of solid win, it seemed. Alyx supposed that he could handle that, since he had, again, gotten luckier with the leech daggers then with much else. He looked over at the two new items that he'd created: gloomcat daggers and leech daggers. The gloomcat daggers were dark amber, and curved wickedly, like a claw. Interestingly, he'd ended up with blades that had an edge along their inner curve, like a karambit. He imagined that the wounds inflicted by such a weapon would be deep and gaping, the fierce point driving through meat, and the edge hooking, slashing, and tearing through every fiber. It certainly explained the bleed damage. that was packaged with the stock model. He tried to imagine what a legendary gloomcat blade would be capable of, and he felt a chill go up his spine as his hands felt the tearing of muscle, the warm gush of blood and the grating of the edge against bone. He shook his head to get the image out and looked over to the main event.
A pair of daggers made from a material heretofore unseen from a monster that nobody knew existed, from a place no one had ever visited. Both daggers were of remarkable quality, but neither was legendary. That was a shame, truly. Both were elegant but vicious-looking weapons, and a legendary version would have been incredible. Slender, straight-bladed dirks, they seemed designed to slip between ribs and plates of armor, piercing organs and dealing deceptive amounts of internal damage. Alyx turned the dagger over and saw a huge number of tiny serrations on the blade, as if designed to pull and rip flesh if someone attempted to remove it. The crossguard was a minimal affair, and the hilt was made of almost transparent flesh sheathed seamlessly around the tang, which protruded into a small, round pommel that was actually transparent, a smooth sphere that appeared hollow. The blade and grip were both pale, almost purple in color, and the crossguard, and was deep purple, almost black. The weapon appeared simple, but Alyx had his suspicions that it held deceptive complexities. Else, what would merit its existence? Alyx examined the item's description and stats, looking to glean more information. He was not disappointed. The weapon had a status effect called . Apparently, upon striking an opponent, the weapon would absorb an amount of health from its victim. The health would then be stored inside the weapon, absorbing more energy until it had been filled completely. Upon the next strike after being filled, the weapon would re-inject the drained health as a toxin, immediately damaging the target.
Alyx was surprised: he had expected leeches to give some sort of life leeching ability, but he'd expected it to heal the user. He figured that that had been a little optimistic. Still, though, this was a powerful tool in the hands of a DPS character. With this sort of delayed burst damage, one could really turn on the heat when they needed to. Giving this to Alyx would be wasteful, since he really shouldn't be attacking enough to use it much. Giving it to Rota would be useless, since the damage dealt was so insignificant compared to the damage that their weapons were already capable of. Plus, Neo Abyssian was a metal weapon, and thus unable to acquire monster statuses. Cthaer was, then, the only logical recipient of these weapons. Alyx figured that he'd put them into Illfang separately, to maximize the potency of each infusion.
He was a decent way through things, and had decided that he was going to buff up each gloomcat dagger independently, and then put the vanilla leech daggers into Illfang. It would take four upgrade slots on the legendary dagger, but that wasn't always a bad thing, since the new upgrade system allowed weapons to benefit from being fed similar weapon types in addition to the points that would normally be received. He'd seen it firsthand with Gloomfang. The sword had gained a bonus from being fed another OHSS. Alyx assumed that the same sort of logic would work for daggers. If he could power up Illfang at all, Cthaer would stand a better chance of gaining the upper hand in combat.
He thought back to when he had unwillingly begun working with Cthaer, and remembered the catalyst that had finally allowed him to stomach the young assassin's methods.
They had been traveling a fortnight since dusting their tracks and getting rid of that tail. The target figured that he was in the clear, and his guard had warded off a few lesser mercenaries in the meantime. Perhaps his personal assassin had done the job and rid him of any true threats. At least until he could kill the ones who wanted him dead, that is.
Alyx and his new sidekick ~I'm not the sidekick. He's my sidekick! If anything, I'm letting him come along as a mascot.~ ...Quite. Alyx and his... fellow mercenary ~Eh, close enough~ Will you let me finish!? Ahem. As I was saying: Alyx and the other guy were merely biding their time, trying to figure out the best plan of attack. The target, a nobleman named Ha-~Call him Lord Testikles the Small, Unwilling Protector of Virginity~... Why on earth would I do that? A nobleman named Ha-~Do it or I'll turn your text pink.~ You will do what? You shall do no such thing. ~Oh, shan't I?~You wretched littl- Change me back right now!~What is his name?~ ...Lord...~A little louder, please?~Lord Testikles the Small... Unwilling Protector of... Virginity...~Ha! You actually did it! That's hilarious. Okay. Back to your regularly scheduled programming, I have to tweet this.~ Who could you possibly be-... Who on earth would care? ~I said I'd tweet it, not that anyone would care. Let's not ask for miracles here.~
.... The target, a nobleman whose name is no longer important to this narrative, was holed up in his manor, and it was well-staffed with security personnel. Alyx could take them all on in a head-on struggle, but it would be a knock-down, drag-out fight, and he would be much the worse for wear after it was over. Reluctant as he was to admit it, Cthaer's plan was making sense.
The fortification was supplied from a nearby village. Water was drawn from a well on the premises. If Cthaer dropped a body into the well, it would foul the water, forcing the estate to start importing its drinking water, too. Once that had been accomplished, Cthaer snuck into the much less-heavily-armed reserves of the village, which were then sold to the manor. He stowed away inside a barrel filled with water, being taken into the belly of the beast.
Once the boy had made it into the manor, Alyx had the easy job: waiting. Cthaer had the slightly more difficult task of sneaking a poison into the kitchen, slipping it into the stew that was being prepared for the day's lunch. It took him several days of preparation and waiting to get both the timing and the recipe right for the situation. They had to prepare a meal that he could poison without arousing suspicion, and without the risk of it being cooked out of the food. Stew was absolutely perfect for that. Once it had been cooked, it would simply be kept warm, and the poison wouldn't be boiled out. Once he'd slipped his little concoction into the stew, he settled back in to wait.
Of course, he could have killed the man outright, if the b*****d ever came out of his panic room. It seemed that he didn't trust his security to keep people like Cthaer out. Damn foresight. Everything that he ate or drank was passed through a slot in his door, and it was meticulously checked before it did even that. He wasn't served what the rest of the manor ate, and the food never left the staff's sight, from the time it was prepared to the time it was fed to the man through his doorhole.
So Cthaer had done the next best thing: he'd poisoned everyone else in the house. Over the course of the day, everyone in the house had eaten some of that soup, and by nightfall, its effects had taken root in their minds, creating paranoia and hallucinations. Cthaer just had to sit back as the staff began making accusations and started infighting. When the bedlam had reached its peak, Cthaer opened the gate to the manor and signaled Alyx to join him. The nobleman was trapped, blind and untouchable from the rest of the manor, as his staff went insane and began assaulting each other. Cthaer's personal favorite was the chef's assistant, who had killed the cook with a potato peeler.
Alyx entered the manor and Cthaer led him to the door of the panic room, the guards long since having abandoned their post due to a sudden infestation of fire-breathing bees, and allowed Alyx to do as he does: convince the nobleman to open the door so they could help him escape. Cthaer stood well away from the door, and Alyx wove a tale of how he had seen the manor burning from the village, and made haste to rescue as many as he could. The nobleman was loathe to believe him, but Cthaer took the time that Alyx was using to talk to commit to action, and had set the adjoining rooms on fire, to start driving the heat in the panic room up. Eventually, the man conceded, choked by a lack of oxygen which was unable to enter the sealed room, and swung the latch on the door. He willingly exited the room with Alyx, assuring the man that Alyx would only be rewarded if the nobleman survived.
Cthaer stood away from the action until Alyx was past him. The mercenary called for the assassin, but Cthaer just waved him along, disappearing into the panic room.
Once Alyx and the nobleman had exited the manor, the nobleman saw that it was not entirely engulfed in flames, and realized that he had been had. Alyx clapped him in irons and forced him into a carriage, though, and found Cthaer waiting for them, in the driver's seat with his hood up. Alyx was getting too used to the boy appearing in places that he ought not to have been, and accepted it, though, and climbed into the cabin with their reluctant prisoner, still weak from oxygen deprivation.
They made haste until they were well away from the manor, and Cthaer assured them that no one would be looking for them: he had stashed a body inside the panic room and ensured that it would burn.
Alyx and Cthaer had their prize, and no one had to die, except for the small army of staff in the house. Alyx was a little miffed about that, but he would probably have had to fight his way through them anyway. He did ask Cthaer why he'd been content to let this bounty come alive, when all his previous bounties had been collected for corpses.
"I didn't come here for him." Cthaer had a small parcel of papers that he flashed Alyx, and the mercenary understood. Sometimes money is worth more than money.
"But he will die. Rest assured."
Alyx eyed the boy. Why prolong the murder? Why go through all this trouble to take the man alive if Cthaer was going to just kill him later?
That question was answered later. Cthaer was driving, and it was the work of a few days to get where the boy was going, which was not where Alyx had been expecting. Alyx let Cthaer drive, sitting back and watching to see where this was going.
They pulled into a graveyard, and Cthaer, without saying a word, pulled the nobleman out of the carriage, and dragged him between the graves, the nobleman asking very vocally what was going on, until he was finally pushed to the ground near the pauper's graves. Unmarked stones marked a number of burials, but one in particular had a small, chiseled headstone. It was this grave that Cthaer forced the man to his knees in front of.
The nobleman pulled away from Cthaer, inquiring as to what this was all about, and Alyx found himself wondering the same thing. Cthaer lowered his hood and looked into the nobleman's eyes with his own glowing yellow irises, and the man grew silent and still. "You.""Me.""Is that what this is all about? This is ridiculous! Release me!"
Cthaer held a paper out to the man. A contract, by the looks of it. "Sign it." The man began to protest. "Sign it, or die." The man still held strong, but Cthaer, growing impatient, drew his terrifying dagger and held the point to the man's throat.
Alyx looked around at the people who were scattering from the graveyard. Maybe broad daylight was not the best time or place for this business. Whatever this business was.
The man relented, and signed the paper. "There. You've taken it all. My family. My estate, and now even my assets. Are you happy? Was all this worth it? Will any of this bring them back!?""No, but it makes me feel better." Cthaer buried Illfang in the man's chest, destroying his heart with one thrust. "There. Now your insides match your outsides. Do you know how long it takes to bleed to death when your heart no longer beats? I guess you'll get to find out."
With that, Cthaer walked away. No trophy, no proof of kill, nothing. Just a man slowly dying in the middle of a graveyard, the sun high overhead and birds singing in the air. It was a beautiful day for an execution.
They left the carriage where it was and Alyx followed Cthaer. The boy dropped the parcel and signed contract into the mailbox of a small orphanage as they passed, and finally spoke to Alyx. "The job is done. Here's your payment." The boy offered Alyx a coinpurse. "You're the one that posted the job? If you had this much money, why are you in this line of work?""Yeah. I used those other jobs to pay for this. After you left, I cancelled the job and took off after you."
Alyx eyed the boy "Why was this so important to you?"
"That man is responsible for those children being orphans. He wanted to build on land that belonged to the people in this city, but he didn't want to pay for it. He tried to force them out with violence, and those who resisted were dealt with. The children were sold or abandoned. There was no food to care for the children, and no facilities to house them. Many lived on the streets until they succumbed to hunger or illness. That orphanage was cobbled together by the children old enough to work and lucky enough to get away.
When he had cleared the land of their houses, he turned the area into a red light district. That contract he signed turns over ownership of all of that property and all of its businesses to the children in that home."
"I see. So, you were one of the children whose parents were put to the knife?" It would certainly explain some of the kid's personality.
"Not quite. I was the one holding the knife."
Current skills in use: Monstercraft: 23 Evasion: 23 Heavy armor: 23 Endurance: 62 Current active titles:
: +1 to OHSS and block rolls : +2 to all rolls while in groups, +2 to all crafting rolls
Current equipment:
Main hand:Name: Gloomfang Description: A legendary straight sword harvested by Alyxandeyr, the Gloomking, from slaying a Gloomweave Spider. The blade, which sprouts from the mouth of a small gloomweave spider, glistens with a sickening sheen, venom permanently coating its silvery-purple edge. The hilt of the sword features a sickly crossguard, the legs of the spider curling upward toward the blade. When Alyx wraps his fingers around the silk-covered hilt, the legs of the spider constrict with the crepitant sound of old bones to secure the weapon to his fist. Dropped by: Gloomweave Spider Type: One Hand Straight Sword +198 roll1 (196.88 ) +153.89 damage +15.2 poison for 6 rounds durability: 100/100.14 Upgrade: 1/55 (+1.25 roll1) Chroma: 0/1 Off-hand: Name: Aegis of the Usurper Description: A legendary shield harvested by Alyxandeyr, the Gloomking, from a gloomweave spider. The shield is a preserved gloomweave spider carapace. The fangs of the spider thrust forward past the wearer's fist, and the spinneret extends to protect Alyxandeyr past his left elbow. When held at rest, the point of the shield rises almost to Alyx' shoulder. The eyes of the spider shine softly, watching his enemies, and the fangs glisten with venom. Type: shield +66.65 roll1 damage capacity: 57.98 poison: +2 for 6 rounds Durability: 46/46.15 Upgrade: 1/54 Chroma: 0/1 Head: Mantle of the Gloomking Type: Helmet (cloak) Stats: immunity to effects Upper armor: Heavy Gloombeetle Upper Crafted by: Alyxandeyr stat: damage mitigation: 24 | 54 damage reduction: 1 | 3 upgrade: 0/14 Lower armor: Heavy Gloombeetle Lower Crafted by: Alyxandeyr stat: damage mitigation: 22 | 49 damage reduction: 1 | 3 upgrade: 0/11 Ring1: Gloombeetle Ring: Type: Ring +1 damage reduction per attack while worn. Ring2: Gloomrat Ring: Type: Ring +2 poison damage per round per attack while worn Ring3: Bone Ring: A ring made of bone. Wearing this ring allows the player to transform into a skeleton for 5 posts at a time, once per battle. As a skeleton, the player is immune to , , any blood-borne effects (such as paralysis from a bite attack). However, the player will take 25% additional damage from crushing weapons, and will be treated as . Can only wear one Bone Ring at a time. Ring4: Necklace: Trophy: Dire Wolf Trophy (stage 1): The massive paw of a Dire Wolf preserved with techniques that infused Light into the material. While active, this trophy grants the user +5 to their base AP. Combat pet: Utility pet:
Second set:
Main hand: Name: Gloomshard Description: An elegant One Hand Straight Sword that has a white hilt and an almost white pale blade that seems to softly glow from within. It is adorned with brightly polished silver fittings, including a straight, broad crossguard and a small, crown-shaped pommel. It is named because it is as though a shard of light has been made physical and forged into a weapon. Crafted By: Rota Emptiet Abyssian Type: One Hand Straight Sword Durability: 10 Stats: +6 roll1 +10 damage Upgrade: 0/26 Off-hand Name: Gloomguard Crafted by: Rota Emptiet Abyssian Type: shield Durability: 12/13 Stats: +10 roll1 15 damage capacity Upgrade: 0/11
((Rolling for 10 Iron ingots using Metalwork Arte: Transcendent Iron Ingot and Metalwork Arte: Double Cast with Tinkerer's hammer, tinkerer's ring, tinkerer's forge, and tinkerer's anvil for a +60 to quality rolls
then breaking those 10 down into Repair via Metalwork Arte: Iron Powder
and rounding it out with using all 100 powder for Weaponsmith/Armorsmith Arte: Repair Iron
on
Broken Demon Iron Greatsword: An utterly massive THSS, left behind by the Demon Blacksmith. In the fight that lead to his death, the sword was broken, and is useless in its current state. Rebuilding the cracked and chipped blade would be an arduous task, and most would say that it wasn't worth it. The blade is dangerously close to being broken in half, and the entire thing weighs almost twice as much as a typical THSS. Durability: 0/100))
Rota sat down at his workbench fro the first time in what felt like forever since it was put up. It almost depressed him that for finally having the facility, he was not only not the one to break it in, but also that he had never used it up to this point. Despite this minor observation, he maintained a positive attitude and stripped of his armor, leaving himself only in pants and basic shoes. It was time to fulfill a promise in spirit that he had made what seemed like so long ago. As Little One sat and watched, converting stone and ingot into alchemist ore, Rota grabbed an empty barrel from the corner of the room. he then set up his forge to begin smelting ingots, starting with a use of his double casting mold.
The idea that he, as someone who originally never wanted to be a smith, earning such a thing was still amazing. It was uncanny how much he was using the very trade that he spurned to become a warrior. What would his father think if he saw him now? While Rota mused over this, His new addition to his family landed on his shoulder and began to watch him work. "What are you doing master?" the faerie asked, her voice bright and cheerful without being overly enthusiastic. Her hair was long and blonde, she was fair of skin, had piercing celtic green eyes and wore a long green dress. She had four wings that were webbed like a dragonfly's, she wore no shoes, and She was about the 7-8 inches tall. One of the most distinctive physical features about her was that she wore glasses. The lenses were clear, but the rims looked like they were made of roots that were spiralled together, like they weren't carved rims but were grown that way.
Rota smiled, "What I'm doing is melting down iron ore and curing the impurities out of it to mold them into Iron ingots. It's one part of a promise that I need to fulfill."
The faerie seemed a bit confused as she scratched her head, "What will they be used for?"
Rota stopped attending to the fledgling ingots for a moment while he grabbed a massive blade wrapped in cloth and laid it on a work bench. The bench groaned with the weight of the thing, but the tinkerer made quality work stations so it held strong despite the protestation. "This sword needs to be repaired and completed. To do that, I need to use...10? I think 10 should suffice- Ingots to make powder which can be used in turn to repair the weapon. There's just one other thing I need." He walked over to the empty barrel and he used his carving knife to make a deep cut in his left arm, which he let drip into the barrel.
Naturally, the healing faerie was horrified by such a prospect "WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?! What about that was necessary?"
As Rota pulled the casting mold out of the hearth, cooled the ingots, and prepared new ones, he thought about how to explain this. He reasoned the only way to go about it was to speak frankly. "That sword was forged by someone that I made a symbolic promise to. Not a friend, but someone who gave me the skills required to make me a more talented warrior and smith." He continued as he tended to the ingots, cooling each in turn and switching back to the double cast whenever it was ready.
"A close friend of mine, who you will meet soon enough, told me that there was a place called the Alternate Dungeon that we could go through, and that it was good training for the real dungeon. Naturally, I accepted. The alt. dungeon was a miserable place. While the monsters there were not the most punishingly difficult in the world, save for a few exceptions, it was the labyrinthine nature that wore us down. It seemed to have no end, with entrances and exits leading to places we had already been before. We healed after every fight, so it wasn't our bodies wearing down. it broke our minds and will, though my friend held up a lot better than I did.
Eventually we did finally make it to the end of the dungeon and were confronted with a large door. A presence had been calling out to me the entire time, and I had finally heard it speak in words I could truly grasp. 'Alone'. It wanted me to confront it alone. I asked my friend to oblige this offer and he accepted, agreeing only to intervene if it seemed like I truly needed the help."
The faerie became agitated at this and pounded on her master's shoulder in frustration. "What kind of friend lets you take on unknown terrors alone?!"
At this Rota paused, and began looking a lot more authoritative than he intended in hindsight. "A good one. We have a very strong, unspoken bond of trust. We propel each other forward, each with the knowledge that we have each others backs when push comes to shove. He can be as defensive as he needs to be because he trusts that my strength and my blade can dish out as much pain or more to keep the pace of the fight. I know I can dish out that damage because I can trust that his defenses can block just about anything that we need it to WHEN we need it to. That is the bond we share, and it has prevailed through just about every hardship that we've come across."
Rota looked at the barrel again, and it was mostly full. His natural healing factor had been enough to keep him lucid through the whole experience and make sure that he didn't pass out due to blood loss. That was good. he would need the blood soon. Rota continued "Once inside, there was a massive demon blacksmith working a sword, breathing fire on it to keep it hot as he worked it on his anvil with a massive hammer. He told me that the sword was almost complete, and in his methods the blade required the blood of the warrior and the breath of the blacksmith, only the latter being able to be provided by him. He intended to take MY blood by force, something I was not to keen on. It was a hard fought battle, but I eventually won and his blade cooled in the absence of its master's will. The blade was ruined, in his words, but his technique didn't end with him. he passed down the breath of the blacksmith to me as a last ditch effort to carry on the legacy of his technique. After he had passed on, I took the blade and here we are today. I have both components for the forging aspect, I just need to put them together, and that required the blood barrel so I can quench the heated blade of the demon blacksmith's sword in it once the repairs are nearly complete."
It was now that the last of the ingots had cooled, so he moved the first one to his anvil to begin making powder. As he smashed the ingots against the anvil with his hammer, he made sure to spill as little dust as possible since he would need all he could get. He couldn't care about the quality of these ingots, as that part didn't factor in to this equation. Only the numbers mattered. it was now that Rota truly put thought into the tiny person who sat upon his shoulder. Despite being able to carry a conversation with her, she didn't yet have a name. It was odd, since she had more conversational abilities than Little One did, yet even HE had a name. the faerie had not only not picked a name for herself, but neither had Rota. Hell, his SWORD had gotten better treatment in this regard than the fully expressive being sitting on his shoulder. So as he continued to pummel ingot after ingot into dust Rota spoke, "So what is your name, little faerie?"
This seemed to give the lady pause. maybe names weren't common for 'pet' beings and Rota was just weird? regardless, after a while she responded "I don't have a name. I don't know what to call myself but the healing faerie that serves you, Master."
Rota shook his head as his strikes against the ingots got harder. "That can't do. You have an identity that I would love to be really familiar with, and if you are just 'my servant' then that takes away from who YOU are. For starters, my name is Rota. Would you like to name yourself, or have me name you?"
The faerie seemed to digest this input rather slowly. It was likely a lot to take in with something that showed this level of devotion being told to be more autonomous, but she eventually responded once more. "If I'm to have a name, I think you should be the one to name me Master Rota. I...don't feel comfortable making that decision myself."
Rota continued dusting ingots, as he shook his head. "It's okay. I won't force you to do anything that you're truly unwilling to do." He continued to dust ingots as he mulled this over. Deciding a name for anything is not an easy task, despite it coming easier for him than most. The name needs to come from the heart whenever you name anything. He thought back to his past to see if there was anything there that could spark an idea...but nothing came to him as of yet. If looking to the past right now, then he needed to look to the future. Well, having the faerie meant he didn't have to worry about his own health nearly as much as he had in the past. He had someone else to concentrate on that for him. This meant that everything he wanted to achieve combat wise could be handled easier. Hell, if the master of the dungeon proper was stronger than the alt. dungeon boss, that meant he would be able to hold his own against it longer than normal. She made the chance of success higher with her mere presence, and seeing her by his side and knowing what she was capable of gave him hope. It suddenly clicked to him. Rolia had once showed him a ring that he had made for his mother...which for some reason he couldn't remember. Anyways, the inscription inside the band was a word that meant 'To Believe'. Rota looked at his faerie friend and smiled. "Your name'll be 'Croire'."
the newly christened Croire mulled over the name, but ultimately looked happy about it. "Croire it is! It sounds pretty!"
Rota nodded as he continued to pound ingots into dust. "It means 'To Believe'. Your mere presence affirms that I can get farther in this world than I could without someone of your talents. Both you and your brother instill such a sense hope for the future of my adventure, and give me something to fight for aside from just the sake of fighting or the joy fighting brings. Heck, Little One can attest that I fought like a madman to keep him safe when i had first met him, and because of it he never got touched by his assailant ONCE."
Upon being mentioned, Little One perked up as he was still converting ore and nodded in agreement. Croire smiled shyly as she blushed. "I d.don't know if I deserve that much faith. Not only have I not even healed you once, but we don't even know how good I'll be at it."
Rota set down his hammer for a moment and he reached over to his left shoulder and using the tippiest of his index finger he gently tilted Croire's head up by her chin to look at him."You will do just fine. I know you will. I believe in you, Croire. With how much care and consideration you've had for me in a low stakes environment like this, I trust that in a hostile situation you'll be even more attentive." He then let go, and then shrugged before he went back to hammering away. "Or if not, I'll be there to snap you back into reality. That's the beauty of being in this rag-tag family. We keep each other together with our collective effort. no one is left behind or forgotten." Rota perked up as he remembered something. "OH! I'll have to actually leave you here at least once while I do something else."
Croire suddenly got nervous and fidgety. "What? Why would you say that IMMEDIATELY after saying no one gets left behind?"
Rota shook his head. "I'm sorry. It's just that you can't meet my sister unless I leave you here. The gods told me that she and i aren't allowed to directly meet, only make contact through letters and such."
The little faerie looked even more distraught. "That's horrible! To think you have family out there that you can't even see!"
Rota nodded, solemnly. "Yes, but at least she can contact me if she needs anything, and I can know that she's keeping safe. I tried to set her up with some things she'll need right off the bat so she has a better start than I did, but she'll love to meet you two." Rota looked off nostalgically as he continued."Anna-Mia is one of the sweetest people I have ever known. She's by nature a pacifist, and she loves all creatures great and small. She'd be quicker to befriend a fly than hurt it. You'll learn more about her when she pays this place a visit. I've told her about this house, what we can do with it, and that she is welcome any time to do whatever she needs. I expect you two to treat her well, because she will certainly do the same to you both." he looked to both parties in question, and got the nods of confirmation he needed.
He smiled "Good. Now it's finally time." He moved the bags of powder aside and placed the massive sword on the anvil. Even Little One briefly stopped converting ingots to watch the magnificence at work. Rota looked over to Croire. "I appreciate your support, but I suggest you watch on your brother for a little bit. I need to put my all into this, and I don't want to accidentally burn your wings off with a stray ember." Croire nodded and flew over to Little One, resting on his silvered head as he backed up a couple paces from the anvil directly across from Rota. "That's a good kid. You keep your little sister safe now." Little One nodded, and Rota got to work.
Rota breathed deep as the center of his chest and entire throat lit up like a Chinese paper lantern. Rota put his Hammer head on the greatsword, and all at once he gushed forth a massive torrent of flame. After a solid minute of exhalation, The demon artisan grabbed bag upon bag of iron dust with his left hand and dumped it on the length of the blade, working it in with the heated hammer with his right. Rota worked fast. He could not allow either to cool during this crucial point, and he only had one more of those left in him. Thankfully, the anvil was just as heated as the sword and hammer, so it kept it a fairly consistent temperature. Once all the powder had been used and he was sure that every crack had been filled in, and every imperfection was as perfect as possible, he was ready for the final phase. "This technique requires two things to work, kids. The Breath of the Demon Blacksmith!" Rota inhaled as deep as his lungs would allow and then even further as he lifted the sword and breathed fire once more, which some would swear had a black core instead of white. With the sword as hot as it could possibly get he dashed to the barrel he had filled and with his shout of "And the Blood of the Warrior!" he plunged the sword deep into the crimson liquid, the blood boiling into a fine red mist as it sizzled and popped. Rota held it there as long as it took for the bubbles to cease and pulled it out of what scarlet essence was left to inspect it to see if it worked.
(Using Metalwork Arte: Double Cast, and Metalwork Arte: Innate Iron Ingot for 55 ingots. wearing tinkerer's ring for a plus 5 to quality. First twenty featured here, next twenty directly underneath, and the remaining 15 directly underneath that.)
The Demon Greatsword had been fully repaired finally, and it was gorgeous. Just by holding it Rota could tell that it was stronger than any weapon he himself had created. That was a bit disheartening since that meant that Neo Abyssian fell into that category. That would not remain true for long, he would make sure of it. This moment was a long time coming. First things first, he needed to make ingots. A lot of them. He felt a more intimate knowledge creep into his mind as he set up his dual mold as needed. There was some untapped potential that he realized that he could bring out of the metal that he hadn't seen for a long time. Again, that would change. He would need to make enough ingots to make 55 Greatswords.
While the odd number bugged him, it was a necessary evil. He would also have to break up the smelting process just in case he had another breakthrough as he had when he made the previous 10. 110 ingots were no small undertaking, and it would be the single most involved process of his entire career as an artisan. This would push him to his limits, and ensure that no one would be able to contest his authority in his field for a VERY long time, if ever. It still astonished him how much he had embraced the way of life that he initially shunned so fiercely. It was really a testament to how truly useful Blacksmithing was in the long run. Rota had picked his father's trade back up initially because his gear was in desperate need of improvement, but the only way to do so was to kill things. He had not been a very talented warrior back then, so getting weapons and armor from combat was right out. The only option that left him was the non-combatant route of blacksmithing considering the only battle he needed to fight was against his own personal luck. It was a very rewarding profession, but he was painfully aware that focusing so heavily on it stunted his growth as a warrior for quite some time.
He had gotten out of practice so easily back then. Hell, even now there was a challenge waiting for him that he needed to answer, but he was instead just sitting here and smithing. it would all be worth it when his plan came to fruition though. that upstart wouldn't know what hit him. If there was anything that his tenure in the gloomwood had taught him it was that proper planning led to fantastic results. Part of him missed being so impulsive though. While he had memorable moments, there was nothing truly challenging that came around lately. He had dispatched the Demonic Blacksmith with not too much struggle, and the Joyful One had been taken out even easier than that. It seemed like the only challenge that Rota or Alyx had had lately was that zombie dungeon, and that was mostly just because of the war of attrition involved. it wasn't a true even battle. rota shook his head as he worked, trying to keep in mind why he was doing this in the first place. all of it was final preparation to finally get off this floor. The Zombie dungeon would fall, he would answer the questions raised about the sphere, the upstart who challenged him would be taught a lesson, and any murderers would meet a grim fate. It was time to stop stalling and finish up what few loose ends he had left in the gloomwood before he challenged the dungeon.
He needed to get this done first so that he could manage this goal. 110 ingots. He must be psychotic, brilliant, sadistic, or all three. Why he thought to do such a massive underpinning was okay by any stretch of the imagination was beyond even him. All that mattered was getting it done. it would make his blade the strongest in the gloomwood once again, as it had every right to be. It was destined for greatness, only held back by its neglect from its creator. There was no easy way around this than to just continue pressing on. Little One was still busy converting ore, and Croire was content to watch. he was glad to have some form of a family with him while he worked. They really were like children to him. He would sooner die protecting them than let them come to harm. He was like that with all his family. he would do it for Anna-Mia if he could ever see her again, He would do it for Alyx, and he had done it in the past.
His head began to hurt as memories flooded back of a young boy, half rota's age even at the time. the boy and he were 5 years apart, and they were very close. he remembered that the boy lived with him and his dad, and Rolia had treated him like a son...but why? Why was he just NOW coming into his mind? What had crossing the barrier into the tower done to his memories that he could remember this boy but not Violet? Wait...who was Violet? One crisis at a time. This boy, he was significant somehow. There was no mistake about it. that's right, it was him and Violet that had set Rota down the path of the warrior. Rolia had needed to go into town for some supplies and he had told The boy, Violet, and himself to stay in the house where it was safe until he got back. Naturally being a very little kid, the boy was not one to listen to orders for very long, despite protest from his siblings...that's right. The boy and Violet were his brother and sister. he still couldn't put a face or significance beyond that to her, but he was starting to remember more. anyways the boy wandered off outside, and there were some particularly brave bandits that had waited for Rolia to leave before starting to ransack his forge. The boy threw a lump of coal at the bandits and shouted at them to leave. By this point, they were as good as dead. So Rota did the only thing he could think of to do. he grabbed a longsword which might as well have been a greatsword to him and demanded they stayed back or they'd have to get through him. Rota was completely afraid, but he was not about to let his brother and sister get hurt, despite Violet protesting that she would help too. Rota shook his head every time and continued to stand in between them and the bandits, who had begun swinging various instruments that they could manage to lift unassisted. The odd hammer, some fresh off the anvil daggers, etc. Rota managed to block some of them with the sword, but he was getting his youthful a** handed to him. Every blow made him more resolute and kept him standing strong no matter how torn up he was getting.
When it felt like death was upon him, a loud crash could be heard as Rolia burst through the forge house in a completely demonic outlook. he stood 13 ft. tall, large horns covered his scalp as spine spikes climbed down his back in between a three pair of ragged but functional wings. his skin was pure black, save for cracks and fissures where a blood red light pulsed. his eyes were completely crimson with no visible pupils or sclera and his maw was a razorblade factory of teeth. His bladed tail coursed through the entire building, slaughtering all who would dare even attempt to run.
They had beaten one of the Demon Lords' children within an inch of their life and had threatened to do the same to the others, and on top of everything else had tried to steal from him. None of these misfortunate bandits would live to tell the tale of how they died foolishly by trying to piss in a demon lord's oatmeal. Once the threat had been dealt with, Rolia carried Rota off to a doctor to get him proper treatment. it took a lot of explaining out of all three of them, but Rolia was more glad that none of them were dead. He had said that He, Violet and Garrett..THAT WAS IT! his little brother's name was Garrett!
In any case, Rolia stated that the three of them were all he had left in this world and that despite not listening, he was proud of Rota for taking the initiative to protect his family. It was Rota's initiative and instinct to fight and protect his brother and fraternal twin sister that made him realize his true calling was as a warrior. He would not be content to slave away at an anvil the rest of his life as true adventurers passed him by. He would be the one out there making history as it happened. And no here he was, slaving away at an anvil, trying to make himself stronger. His life seemed really strange in that regard.
He was always working towards that next goal, always working to that next big event. Well, it was only a matter of time before the plans started coming to fruition, and that's what they were doing now. That was the idea at least. This was all for his sword, that was what he needed to keep telling himself. If this task was to get done, he needed to remain vigilant to the task at hand. That said, he didn't know how long this would take. It wasn't impossible or unfathomable to think about, but it was something he hadn't considered. his method was not what some would call fast by any stretch of the imagination.
It was methodical, calculated, and took time and consideration for every ingredient going into the work. The metal was to be respected and cherished rather than be used merely as a means to an end. That must have been what the Iron Brotherhood had seen in him. He had made it clear that his abilities were not because of outside influences but of his own skill. Next time they would see just what he could do WITH outside influence. He chuckled to himself as he worked at just the thought of the looks on their faces when he was called upon again and would be able to share with them his newfound skills.
They hadn't expected such quality from such a green blacksmith beforehand, and now he had gotten even better even faster than before. There was no accounting for his determination and ability. That had really been the story of his life here. No matter what his determination would see him through any task, no matter how tedious. From the eons-long mining sessions, to hard-fought victories, to protecting the ones he cared about nothing could stand in his way. This task too would fall to the wayside and become just another stone that built the mural of his success.He couldn't be reckless though. One stupid mistake and all his labors would be in vain. He would be gone and nothing that anybody could do would bring him back. he might be remembered by a handful, but all it would take is the deaths of those few and his memory would be lost to the void. he couldn't let that happen. It would not come to pass as long as he and Alyx remained resolute in their convictions. They had been on this floor so long that there was little challenge left save for the zombie dungeon. The thought of that girl still trapped there made his blood boil. it wasn't fair to her. This needed to be done with so that he could finally liberate her from her prison.
Fate could be cruel sometimes. It was up to those it affected to lessen or magnify that pain. That was Rota's M.O.: lessening the pain of others. It's why he became a warrior in the first place. There are some people that just cannot defend themselves as well as they need to, so that is his job. He is the sword that strikes out against villainy and harm. The strength for those that have none of their own to command. He may be a demon, but he defines what that means, not anyone else. Maybe that's what his father wanted him to learn? No, that seemed too blanket and easy. if that was the case, he could just leave now and be done with this place if not for his other obligations and goals.
No there had to be more importance and weight to what was behind the blood of demons. he had already met one that was faking his demonic heritage. That would not be acceptable in the future. Thinking of Tarud, that was a foe he needed to get better about handling. he had already devised a method to handle him, but that healing he could not abide anymore. He had been so accepting and gracious to the fire, perhaps that was a source? if so, as much as it was a part of him, his innerferno would have to be kept inside during the fight. Despite that, he still needed an answer for those explosions. They could do damage even if nothing else did. he hadn't encountered anything else like that so far. Maybe the only answer would be that he couldn't do anything about it and that it was something to be outpaced rather than avoided? It definitely warranted further investigation. that message he had left for him would ensure that such a vainglorious opponent would be seen again. as far as the other 'player killer' went, he had no idea what they looked like or what they fought like. The only thing he knew is that they would make themselves appear weak to catch their opponent off guard and then kill them when they were weakened from battle.
It was despicable. He wouldn't stand for it. Once all his other business was done with, that man or woman was next on his list. There was no escape from his wrath for long, as the Zombie Dungeon would also learn the hard way. Once this was done, he wouldn't need to focus on smithing for a while. He could focus on his main passions rather than the skills that allowed him to pursue those passions. It would be an exciting time for him, being able to be a full-fledged swordsman again. So long he had been devoted to the anvil and pickaxe that the mere idea of not needing to focus on those was near mind boggling.
He would never truly leave their sight, but an extended sabbatical was something that could do the spirit good for a while. It would allow him to feel the same love for it that he does now as a guarantee. if this continued down this path, he feared he would grow to loathe and resent this ability rather than cherish it and give it the respect it required and deserved. he knew in his heart of hearts that the skills would not gather rust in the meantime. He was the best blacksmith in the gloomwood for a good reason, and heavily beat in skills like he had were not easily forgotten. the muscle memory alone would not allow it. He still had no idea what the next floor had to offer in terms of challenge. Would it be a massive uphill climb, or were he and Alyx so powerful now that the hill would be cleft in twain? Only time would tell, he supposed. He was counting the guardian of this floor out of the equation here. He had all confidence that there was no way that being, whatever it was, would be able to stand up to their combined might...or even their solo might for that matter. Rota was well aware that he and Alyx were without a doubt the strongest warriors in to challenge the tower out of natural ability and force of will.
So-called 'Hackers' had the ability to throw that curve off a bit, but both of them had defeated their ilk before so they weren't a tremendous issue. Besides, people who stole the powers of the gods for their own personal gain could hardly be counted among the ranks of honest warriors like himself and Alyx. He had no idea how these people were accessing the power that they were. How was it that these hackers were tearing apart the fabric of reality and giving themselves godly power? With how many there seemed to be, it couldn't be that difficult to manage. With that thought firmly in his brain, he did his best to shake it out. He would not stoop so low...not ever. This world and its people were too important to betray like that. And yet the thought lingered. How much power could he obtain through "hacking"? What power could be gained through such methods? NO! He needed to block such thoughts out of his mind. He would not be like them! He would earn his power, not give himself 'I win' powers. He just couldn't help but think of the possibilities behind such indecency.
he forced it out of his mind as he thought about other things. Little One was still chugging away at those iron ore bits, converting them into alchemical iron ore. he was ashamed that he had denied Litle one this ability for so long. All he had done was look at the short term benefits rather than the obvious solution right in front of his face. Just like how he had stalled himself with the sphere. How he could be so simultaneously intelligent, skilled, and inept was beyond him. Little one had been a great boon to him in Mining and now crafting. While he no longer followed Rota along constantly anymore, he hoped that Little One knew that he still cared. If not, he would be made to know. He still wanted to study his surrogate son to discover his secrets.
If he could, he would make more of the gloomiron golems. They fascinated him to no end. Who made them? How did they make them? What did the runes mean? Could they be made out of materials other than Iron? What would that change about how they thought, felt, and operated? Did their abilities change if they were given bloodiron or tainted steel? How many times did their physiology advance? COULD other Golems be made? How did the carved orb work? Could THAT be made? There were entirely too many questions. Rota had just as many about the Egg. he had placed a large amount of healing items in there in the hopes that he would get something that could heal, and that was Croire.
He wondered if she had any level of advancement to her like Little one had. her lack of free thought was also a bit of a distresser. How could something living not have free thought? This brought him immediately back to that boar fight, as well as the rest of his time here. Throughout his time here he had always had a voice in his head. now that he had the demon greatsword, he had two. Three voices in his head were too much for one man to take. he wondered if the blackouts were in any way connected to voice #1. Sometimes they were brief, losing only seconds or so at a time. Other times he would black out and lose an entire day. he knew the time was changing in between them, but he didn't know why they were happening. He didn't remember having them before the tower happened, but as he had just proven earlier his memory was not so trustworthy to begin with. He wondered why that was. There were some things that he could remember so vividly that he could practically taste them, but yet others like his memory of Garrett and Violet were an ever-shifting blur. it made no sense to him. There was also the contradiction in his mission statement for even being here.
He came here to be a warrior because he hated the idea of being a smith for the rest of his life, and yet here he was being a smith more than a warrior. it seemed as though he didn't know what he was doing, but what if it was because someone else was pulling the strings that he couldn't see? it could be the work of the figure in light, but he had his doubts about that. No, he had talked directly to someone a long time ago when he fought a bear for the first time that was a more likely candidate. he thought he might have just been crazy, which was still an option admittedly, but that person might have been controlling him this whole time.
The nerve of him. Who was he to tell Rota what he could and couldn't do? he was master of his own destiny! That sniveling coward would have let him die if not for his bitching him out, and here he was controlling his very life even now. He would find a way. he would find a way to truly break free of the bindings that tied him to that...thing. What was even his goal here? Why do any of this? If he was controlling him right now then nothing was being accomplished that needed to be, and Rota was getting sick of it. he could either get his a** in gear and start doing something about the situation, or he could get the hell out of Rota's life and let someone who was living it decide when and what to die for.
It was the only decent thing to do. His methods kept working as his mind did its best to parse out what was happening in his life. on the one hand, his memories of his family were exceptionally vivid. on the other hand, part of him was starting to believe that this world that he was inhabiting was nothing more than a game. Talks of Glitches, Hackers, and Player Killers. these couldn't be just novel terms for otherwise undefinable processes and such, right? He could practically feel his mind coming apart at the seams just thinking about it.
It was through force of will what kept him together through these trying times. There were a few things he knew for certain that were self-evident truths. He himself, Rota Emptiet Abyssian, was his own entity. The person beyond the veil that for convenience he calls 'Player' was also a separate entity that could at any moment try and dominate his will and body to jerk him in any given direction that Player felt necessary. it was annoying and he had no way of knowing how many times he had done it before Rota caught on. These Glitches were not from the sword. The sword was a catalyst, but not causality. The reason he was glitching was unknown. Whatever time he was allowed to have was granted to him by the Administrators, whom Rota had referred to as the gods before he learned their proper title after an extensive talk with Player, and Player himself. The very idea that he was tied to such a person baffled him. That this smithing session needed to be completed. it was taking an extensive amount of time to do. he wasn't used to metalworking being this difficult anymore. Working the ore to get the new qualities out of it in this fashion was a difficult task. By Rota's count, if he wanted to see if it could be achieved again, he would need to make 55 more ingots.
if indeed that was the case, then he would find the benefit that suited him the best and do it all over again using the alchemical ore that Little One had been making. Doing it that way, he would maximize the potential of those ingots, which would make their eventual creation into swords and then subsequent fusion into Abyssian all the more powerful. Thinking back to power, he began to wonder about a place he only saw referred to as "The Goldenwood". A Place that was similar to the Gloomwood, save for that it was perfectly healthy. This new aura ability also made him wonder. in fact, everything that had happened in the abandoned mine had made him severely tilt his head. What were those things that attacked him, for starters? It seemed like they could take any excess stimuli such as bleed, poison, or fire and make themselves immune to it for the rest of their unnatural lives. That thought was very intriguing to him. The things that Alyxandeyr, being a beast-smith, could do with them made him jealous a bit. While he COULD beast smith, he was nowhere NEAR as refined in the technique as his sword brother. Metal was his forte, and he needed to stick with his strengths if they were to remain the strongest entities around.
One thought that made him cringe slightly was the prospect of a new area having better quality metals that here. While he loved the gloomwood and its metals, there was better out there and he knew it. The part that made him cringe was that it meant he was doing this knowing full well that the day would come at some point when he would need to execute this plan in exactly this way once again to make Abyssian relevant once more. As powerful as he could make his blade, another sword of a higher base quality of material off the get go would have a statistical advantage against his blade if they went through the exact same upgrading process. it wounded him to think it, but it was a fact of life that he would need to come to true grips with. that is...unless this plan worked the way it should. Smithing was never his first pursuit, but if he was going to jump into it, he was going to be the best damn smith there was. So that when he began to research different smithing methods for upgrading weapons. The Abyssian technique was not lost on him. he had seen it firsthand (something that not a lot have the fortune of seeing) for his entire life. it was burned into his memory so hard it refused to let go.
however, while Rota's father was the Forge Lord, there were other blacksmiths (let alone DEMON ones) that had their own philosophies on what hammer, anvil, and wielder could do combined against a foe of molten metal. Even more so had techniques for upgrading their blades through fusion rather than traditional upgrades; Breaking both at the same time with the same amount of intent in both and seeing what blade would come out of the ruin. The process excited him. he wanted to try it with Abyssian, he had even learned the way to do it properly. He was confident he could make it work, and that he would be better for it. The weight off his mind would be a little lighter as he would be able to go back to a familiar voice of companionship in his head. Abyssain had always had a hunger, but unlike the voracious and self-destructive hunger of The Demon Greatsword, Abyssian's hunger had always been righteous. Abyssian consumes the guilty, whereas The Demon Greatsword will drink the blood of the guilty and innocent alike. it was no longer a sword he cared to pursue. he had fulfilled his oath to its originator and repaired it. he had no obligation to it beyond that, especially if it was going to try and dominate his psyche like it had. He had altogether too many voices in his head.
He needed to start cutting them down to size a bit. With Abyssian being stronger, he could focus on his original blade again rather than the usurper of the throne. With his original blade in hand, it would bee smooth sailing from here on out. He would once again have the strongest blade in all the land, and nothing would be able to stand between him and his victory. not even Tarud or Gizmono or whatever his name was. he let everyone know he was a killer, there was nowhere he could hide. He would find him eventually and then he would know the true nadir of his victims' pain. Back to the mine, what was that aura ability he had gained from there?
Was it his demon genes unlocking again like they had with the death of Achan, ore was this an evolution of the fire that was granted to him by the blacksmith? or Both? or Neither? it seemed to be fairly separate from his normal abilities but synergized perfectly with them. There also seemed to be room for improvement, which impressed him even more. Were there more of these abilities in the Goldenwood? Just how many secrets lay dormant in that amber paradise? Was there a civilization that still lived there? if so, would he be heralded as a hero for throwing their gates wide open, or labeled a villain for doing the same? For that matter, what was with the Lamp that he had received from the mine? It seemed to glow in response to the Goldenwood, brighter than it ever had in fact. Was there still yet somewhere that it was leading him to, or was the Goldenwood its ultimate destination? He would have to show Alyx. There was no way he was going to believe him, but he still had to tell him. Then there was the matter of the Heart of Darkness. It seemed to hold great power, but only when placed in a legendary weapon such as Abyssian. Once he did so, however, he would never be able to reverse what he had done.
he resolved to wait until his plan had come to fruition to slot in the Heart. There was no telling what he would be able to do once all was said and done, so doing it this way was the most idyllic. His thoughts began to wander uncontrollably from one topic to the next, none acknowledging how painfully close he was to the end of this first section. He noticed it now, and that just sent his thoughts blazing out other directions. he wished that he could just move on, but he had to evaluate the first 55 ingots and then come up with how the process could be improved to suit his desires. it would also give Little One plenty of time to finish as many of the Alchemical Ores as he could. By his calculations, he had spent just enough time that Little One would have just enough of a stockpile to make 55 Alchemical Ingots. then the fun part would be turning all those ingots into swords. 55 swords. The thought would make any military drool with envy. And he was pumping all of them into a single sword. An Army Of One indeed. It was a staggering number, to say the least. Any sane man wouldn't even dare have night terrors of such a fate, yet here was Rota with a look of eager anticipation and pride splashed across his face.
he had come to grips with his tireless insanity and obsessive compulsion towards tedium a long time ago, so this was just beating an entire stable filled with thrice reanimated equine. He believed Player referred to this as grinding. it was a moniker that fit, as soon he would use the product of his labor to grind his enemies into irrelevancy. Irrelevancy is a cruel mistress for when she hits you, no one cares. The twin thrones that Alyx and Rota would one day have had no time for those that would needlessly maim and slaughter innocent lives. They would sink into the realm of obscurity where no one would remember them (and for good reason).
Again Rota's mind wandered back to the Goldenwood. it was quite the mystery, that place. The more he thought about it, the more nervous he became. There was a reason it had been sealed away by two large barriers. he guessed the creatures, but what if that wasn't the full story to it? What made it so different from the normal glomwood, or was it the gloomwood that wasn't normal? Did it have a dungeon or monsters? if so how difficult were either to take on? he had become so familiar to this land that anything outside of it was so foreign of a concept that one had to question everything.
he shook his head, Player had affected his thinking way more than he would have hoped. he had the necessary tools to take down whatever threat happened across his path. After the boar's defeat, there was nothing that would be able to stand in his way. Nothing could stand in his way. His power struggle early on had led him down this path. he had found his own way to survive in the harsh environment that plagued him. While he had not come out of it completely unscathed, he had come out a better fighter and artisan for it. That was what mattered. This was the set of moments his entire existence had been leading up to.
His tools quaked with anticipation as he began nearing the end of this set. he had not been paying close attention to the quality of his ingots, just to the actions he was doing. he knew that he had maintained a consistent level of skill throughout, and made sure that no matter what he was keeping the quality of the new ingots up to his constant high standards. There was a bit of leniency in terms of learning how the new qualities of the metal factored into the preparation. These factors would also need to be taken into account for the next set's new changes if any, and the swords made from these ingots in particular.
There was a lot that went into the preparation of these things, but that was what separated artisans from blacksmiths. A blacksmith would do maybe 10% of the work he was doing right now and call the sword good. Rota might do the same, but there is a broad gap between good and outstanding. that is where the remaining 90% factors in. Rota putting in that extra obsessive effort to make sure that the products that he made were of exceptional quality is what his technique was all about. He wanted someone to be able to see an Abyssian branded sword and think to themselves 'I can trust this with my life.'
Part of him wanted to branch out to other weapons, but for now, it was unnecessary. The only people partaking in his works were himself and Alyx. and even then Alyx had started himself down the path to self-sufficience. his skills with monster materials were exquisite. he was almost as good with monster materials as Rota was with metal...almost. Rota was not prepared to admit defeat just yet. The beginner had had the advantage of starting his craft with Rota's artisan tools. It was time to show what a real blacksmith could do with such tools at his disposal. That said, even Rota was beginning to have doubts that the new upgrading technique that he had learned would work the way he thought it would.
he didn't know if it had been tested on a weapon that had its own mind. The effects on Abyssian would be unpredictable and varied. That was the way he operated, however, so it was less of a deterrent than a reiteration of the facts. His craft was an art, pure and simple, and that meant there was no wrong way to get from point a to point b...for the most part. You could be a lot more interpretive in his art form despite there being clearly defined "do's and Don'ts". Alternate blacksmithing techniques existed for a reason. Rota and his father may have been artisans, but they were not the only ones in existence. Though one could argue that since Rota's father was the Forge Lord, that meant he was the best artisan...it wasn't important. What WAS was making sure that this whole thing wasn't botched right at the end. he focused again, making sure to a T that his technique was spot on for these last few fledgling ingots. he was so close to the end of this first batch that he could practically taste it. again, after this would come evaluation and then assessment of what could be improved on. He had already discovered one new quality of the metal, he could likely see another way to bring out more power from the base minerals.
There were naturally many impurities that got 'cooked' out of the ore as it melted down. if Rota could identify the lost potential from removing those as he had done before he could keep Iron competitive for a long time. Iron would stay a mainstay material, and that would extend the amount of time he would need to prepare himself in all senses of the term for the day when he would have to upgrade Abyssian like this again. as much as he liked his craft, he was ready to leave mining and smithing behind for a good long while barring repairs and minor modifications here and there. He was fine with minor trips and tasks, but undertakings like this would be a relic of the past for a while. He was DONE. He needed to focus on his warrior duties, not be shackled to an anvil day in and day out. it was rewarding, sure, but it wasn't where his heart truly lied. besides, there was a little girl in a creepy basement that needed his help right now, and he would be there for her no matter the cost. despite their previous failure, the brothers in arms had improved in titanic ways since their last attempt. With what they had fought, there was no way they could lose to that hag now.
(Using Metalwork Arte: Double Cast, and Metalwork Arte: Master's Innate Iron Ingot for 55 ingots. wearing tinkerer's ring for a plus 5 to quality. First twenty featured here, next twenty directly underneath, and the remaining 15 directly underneath that.)
How many times had he heard this song? How many times had he tried to commit to this and balk at the mere concept, just to kick himself for doing so? The player watched Rota work on the smithing and putting the finishing touches on 55 ingots. He was curious if doing that would unlock a new skill advancement, and sure enough, it did. Great. That meant another 55 ingots was in his future. While it could be avoided, it was necessary for his plan to succeed. Abyssian had become woefully outperformed lately, and that was something he knew neither of them could abide...neither of them. Jeez, it was weird thinking this way.
On the one hand, he loved what had happened. it was a miracle in Artificial intelligence technology, and he loved to be able to speak with Rota outside of his own head. On the other hand, he never imagined that his own creation would resent him. He guessed it was only fair. If he discovered that none of his actions were of his own free will, rather the puppeteering of some anonymous creator, then he would be a bit resentful too. He was just not properly equipped to handle something of this magnitude. He was just a gamer, gas station attendant, aspiring writer, and armchair philosopher damn it! He was not prepared to handle what happens when something that was never designed nor intended to have free will obtained it. it wasn't a topic that he had ever come across. Usually, it was reserved for things that had at least a small bit of autonomy like Robots, or NPCs. not PCs. He sat back in his chair as he watched a progress bar fill while Rota went through the same tired animations he usually did. This wasn't like the repairing of the Greatsword that had a unique animation, this was the same thing he had seen before, just with a slightly different material. He had been so stupid to not give the Golem the Alchemical Silver before. Now, he could make use of the piercing effect that was on Abyssian and give it to other weapons.
55 Alchemical Innate Master's Iron Ingots was a bit of a mouthful, but it was nonetheless accurate. 110 ingots/2 was 55. 55 swords into Abyssian was an insane amount, even for him. And he was the one who spent a literal day mining in real time to do this. it was all a bit much, but progress had to march on. Hell, normally he would have to do all this work himself since he recently got the headset that added to the VR experience, but with Rota's rebellion he could just sit back and watch all of this unfold. Whatever this major bug was, it hadn't affected Anna-Mia. Just Rota. That was fine. It allowed him to be able to control a character again. he didn't feel comfortable controlling Rota anymore now that he had autonomy. This changed the game dynamic drastically for him. Instead of direct commands, all he could do was give suggestions and hope that Rota did what he needed him to do. This wasn't like Dragon Warrior Monsters where he could just give Rota some beef Jerky and make him more accepting of him. This was now a real person, and he would have to treat him as such...or would he? He had thought about this a while ago, but he had no way of knowing if it would work.
What would happen to Rota if he deleted that character from his profile? Would that kill him? If so, would he know it was happening, or even feel it? Would that just unbind Rota from his menu and make him undetectable, leaving Rota as an NPC? If that were the case, it would allow Anna-mia and Rota to talk to each other again. But would Rota figure out that Anna-Mia was in fact controlled like Rota himself was? Most importantly, if deleting Rota did mean death, no matter how painful or painless, was that something he could even do? He was no stranger to Rota from his own perspective. The Half-Demon Ruler of the Abyss who wielded a mighty Greatsword one handed at effortless speed. The Demon Warrior who fought against fate using his left arm Demon claw and the black fires of the Abyss to defeat his enemies and the obstacles that stood in the way of his values. The Self-same Rota that rarely if ever won in the long run. It was different WRITING him that way. It kept him from being a mary-sue due to his powers and design. Killing him from a writing perspective was different because he knew that that Rota would never stay dead, he would go back to ruling the abyss before he went off to his next adventure in some other alternate universe...but this was not that Rota...at least he had no way of confirming it. if He killed this Rota...he'd stay dead. There was no way of telling if this Rota was THE Rota. No, that wasn't possible. The real Rota was in his heart and soul. There was no way that this Rota was the real one. Unless the bug that made him autonomous took his brainwave data from when he was roleplaying as him and just built a sophisticated a.i. based on that data. there were too many variables to leap to virtual hypothetical murder. But it was a thought that needed to be explored. He had no way of knowing if The bug that gave Rota his autonomy wasn't a virus that would spread throughout the game and by extension the whole internet.
It was a lot of responsibility to heap on a 23-year-old who had no expertise in these things. He couldn't kill him. He was too gentle of a soul to do that. if he had to, he would unplug his computer and bury it before he would kill him. he couldn't even kill most animals, let alone something that had thoughts, feelings, wants, needs, desires and fully sapient consciousness and communication. For all intents and purposes, this was a living thing that he was contemplating giving the Lenny Small treatment. He was just not capable of doing that. That level of murderous ability was not in him. He could not bring himself to even attempt it, as the mere thought of doing so made his body curl up and shake uncontrollably in denial. so Rota would live, leaving the task of killing him in the hypothetical situation where the time would call for that response to someone else. It was how it would have to be done. They would either need the Game creators or Administrators to delete his character directly or go through the game's combat system and kill him that way. If that was the case, the likely candidate was Alyxandeyr. He thought that was fitting, but severely depressing as well.
Alyxandeyr's player had been his closest companion in this, despite always talking to him through Alyx. he had had no contact with Alyx's player outside of the game. Alyxandeyr was the strongest player in the game next to himself, though. it HAD to be him. no one else could do the job. And if even Alyx couldn't do the job? Well, the entire world of ALICE would be forfeit. There would be no way to control him, and he would be unkillable. The Player had to make sure that it didn't come to that. at the end of the day, he knew who Rota was, what he stood for. Despite a shaky start, he knew that with hard work and determination, he could show Rota that they were better together as friends rather than enemies. At the end of the day, they both wanted the same things. To become stronger, and to have Rota burned into the annals of The Tower for all time. Hell, they were already beginning to do that. They were the first to discover an entire new (old?) section of the Gloomwood: The Goldenwood. The very idea of it fascinated and baffled him. this was the FIRST FLOOR of this 100-floor game! How could there be THIS MUCH content in the beginning zone? How much content would be in the later zones? They couldn't possibly keep up this pace, could they?
It would be insanity! Who knew that when the Player had started this game, he would be uncovering THIS MUCH to do? it was a barricade that kept him from floor 2. he didn't want to miss anything or leave anything unexplored. He knew that he would have to eventually, but ignorance would have to be his saving grace in that respect. Besides, time was running out on the whole dungeon clause thing. If he was to have Rota's name above that boss door, he would have to pick up the pace. There was no telling if someone had already gotten there and done it yet, gods forbid. He would feel awful if that were the case.
Though he knew that wasn't his only goal in this game. player killers had popped up all over the place. Three were known of, but only one was dealt with as of yet. Achan Crow. he had been the first to feel the justice that he so rightly deserved. Then was Tarud. That wannabe demon hacker was no longer a threat to him. if he tried to pull the same stunts again, Rota and he would lay him low where he stood. Player Killers...what a world. he knew trolling and noobie gankers were a thing, but in a game like this which practically DEMANDED cooperation? The concept eluded his reasoning. regardless, Rota had become something of a Bounty Hunter in ALICE.Rota in the player's head had always been a defender of the weak and downtrodden, so this was nothing new, but for the player to be doing it in a very real sense was exciting. he was protecting REAL people. not in a literal sense, but every player's character was essentially them since there was only one life to live so to speak. If a character dies, that was it. They would need to start over from scratch. That was why The player, and by extension Rota, were so adamant in protecting them. killing a character was akin to actually killing someone in this game.
it was disgusting, especially when they were like that Gizano guy and lured people into traps. Player killers were scum. That was mostly what worried the Player about Rota. he was afraid that whatever was giving him autonomy would turn him into a berzerker that would kill others with unstoppable wont and abandon. It was one of the things that made Rota a compelling character when he wrote him. His demon-ness, despite being only half of one, was fueled by his hatred, rage, and combat instinct. In some cases, his demon arm would start as a black dot on each finger, and then progress to envelop his hand and arm in response to stimuli throughout his life, making its most strides when he walked the path of the warrior.
Through force of will, he would be able to contain it as far as his left shoulder, but he would also be able to access a "full demon" form. Far more powerful since his entire demon potential would be released, but at the sacrifice of a considerable amount of self-control and intelligence. The full demon form was a beast that few could tame, Rota being one of the only who could on any consistent basis. What worried the Player was that during that boar fight when his controls were locked due to errors, he saw that bestial potential rise out of Rota.
That voracious destruction lashing out at the juiciest morsel that was available. The more The Player thought about it, the more this Avatar resembled The 'real' Rota more and more. he didn't know if that made him happy and excited to be able to interact with someone he felt was part of himself for so long, or worried and disturbed that some heretofore undiscovered bug was able to read enough of his mind to make the Rota he created for ALICE exactly like the Rota in his soul. How could this even happen? he hadn't received any answers about this. Was this even something that could be fixed? Augh, he had to stop thinking about it. he was contemplating himself in circles at this point. He shifted gears to think about the dungeon he and Alyx had been forced to leave. That Halloween event had been something else. Starting with an endurance gauntlet, and then shifting gears to a dungeon in which one doesn't heal anything. it was quite the challenge, to say the least. They probably could have beaten that dungeon the first time, but they likely wouldn't have had an impressive fanfare. it would have been close, and that is being generous. They didn't even know what the boss of that dungeon was capable of. It had said something about gaining power the longer they took in the dungeon. hopefully that counter had stalled a bit, otherwise it would be nigh on invincible at this point. He could only hope that despite the playstyle of the game, the developers were lenient a bit. In spite of knowing that she was fake, he couldn't help but feel bad for the poor girl. While she had some magical power to her even she admitted that it wouldn't hold off her abductor forever. he and Rota had dropped the ball on this one. That's why this smithing was so important. it would make he and Rota stronger to get through the Dungeon faster. It was all he could do at this point.
What was he doing? This game was steadily becoming more and more of his life the longer he played it. He was at a job he moderately liked without being his dream job, playing a game as an escape from his own sad life. No wonder Rota found him pathetic, HE found him pathetic. Here he was at the wee hours of the morning with the day globe threatening the night with its mere presence and he was in front of a screen watching a game play itself. What would others think of him? It wasn't like this was a popular game, he hadn't seen hardly any other players actually play it. Was it just so heavily instanced that Alyx and Rota were the only ones populating it? No, that couldn't be true since He had met Hemlocke as Anna-Mia. he was just glad that voice modulator that the game had worked as well as it did. he was not good at female voices, let alone peppy little girls. Hemlocke was a light caster, which was a new class that this game had. He had heard Hemlocke think aloud that there were more than one color that those motes of light produced. Maybe they corresponded to the colors of the light spectrum in how they manifested? It was a good thing he was able to use Anna-Mia to write a letter back to Rota to white list Hemlocke and tell him that she maybe had something to help with his smithing.
It was a long shot, but if both red and blue motes existed, maybe the others did too. The player knew that Rota was someone all too eager to take a chance on a theory, no matter how small the chance of success was. Besides, Rota was also the sort that would help anyone out, and it wasn't as if it would require him to do any dashing deeds of derring-do. It was his Smithing wheelhouse. With any luck, Hemlocke would have more purple and green motes than she would ever begin to know what to do with. What COULD she do with them? He didn't know what she could do with the red and blue ones, even.
He knew exactly nothing about how lightcasting worked. He was just making broad, ugly guesses at this point. it was all he could so to keep sane and make the sell to Rota. He was just glad Rota accepted the request. he had told Hemlocke when he was starting, and she hadn't shown up yet. She was missing out on some motes if that indeed was a thing that could happen. Oh well, she would have plenty of opportunities for motes when Rota started making swords. and that was just purple ones. She would never see the end of them. he will have drowned her in balls of light. Oh well. It was for the betterment of all, really. And that was when the player's mind done broke. There was something that had been addressed as a possibility WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY back when there was a flashback between Rota and Rolia discussing the light spectrum. The thing that the player was focusing on is that Rolia had mentioned that it MIGHT be possible to harness other colors of light in blacksmithing, he had just never seen it done. if there was any way for that to be done, he hazarded a guess that lightcasting was going to make that possible. Gods only knew if you could ACTUALLY DO IT, but just like jumping out of a plane without a parachute and hoping to happen across the necessary materials to make one on the way down there was a chance.
He would have to get Rota to talk with Hemlocke about such a process. If it could be pulled off, it would revolutionize the game and sear Rota's name into it for all time, even more than the discovery of Aura and the Goldenwood. Thinking of, they were spending way to much damn time on floor one of this game. he had already gone over this before, but the point still stood. They had killed monsters that had no business existing by being here too damn long. The game was actively rebelling against them at this point to move on. He had never felt so antagonized by a game before.
The fact still remained though that they had a few too many loose ends to just take on the proper dungeon now. There was still the matter of the recently discovered Goldenwood and the Halloween Dungeon. The Halloween Dungeon had existed for way too long at this point for its own good. However, now they had the tools necessary to break that apart brick by brick. Almost. Rota could definitely take whatever hit any of those sissies could dish out, but Rota still needed a stronger sword. Sure, he had gotten the swords from the boars, but those couldn't be used until the Heart of Twilight was installed on Abyssian. And both Rota and The Player refused to install that chromatic until the blade was what it needed to be. the plan had to be followed for this to work. They both wanted the same thing: The strongest sword the gloomwood had ever seen. Woe to anyone who dared underestimate The Demon Warrior once he had this upgraded blade, for they would soon realize all too late their folly. It was surprising to the player that a catchphrase hadn't occurred to him before the Tarud fight. Alyxandeyr had "Face ye the wrath of the Gloomking and despair!",but Rota had never had such a phrase.
Yet the one he had come up with was all too fitting for the Demon Warrior-Artisan that dared defy every expectation: Underestimate me at your peril. it was as beautiful as it was succinct. A promise to all who challenged him that their bullshit would NOT be tolerated. Around him was a "No Flex Zone" as the kids these days would say. The Player was not always fond of the kids these days. In any case, It was a good phrase for the warrior who did battle with fate itself. he just hoped, secretly, that the Rota who occupied the ever heating hearth on his screen was somehow the real one.
Despite their rocky start, The player really did care for the menagerie of pixels that defied the conventions of programming itself to become sapient. if that wasn't a move that the Ruler Of The Abyss would pull, he didn't know what was. The more the Player thought about it, the more he accepted the fact that this was a part of his life now. This wasn't something to be ashamed of. Rather, this was a historic event to be documented for all to see! The question would arise though: Who would believe such a thing were real? How to even prove such a thing? he couldn't access any recording equipment while logged in, and there was no way to set it up beforehand. That was the thing about the closed-beta of ALICE, the publisher was VEEEEERY adamant about information being leaked. Furthermore, he was fairly certain that they wouldn't want such a massive bug getting any attention before they figured out exactly what was going on. He could respect that. Despite that, The Player still wished that there was some way he could document this event. That thought out, he almost didn't want to document it. he almost felt like he was making a spectacle of the situation, which felt exceptionally wrong to him. Something about purposefully exploiting his own creations against their will for his personal gain seemed really shady to him for obvious reasons.
He looked over at Rota chugging away and was amazed at the progress he was making. it astounded him to this day how much work they could get done in a relatively short amount of time, and now it could even be just Rota working as it was right now. This game was changing in very large ways for him. This music just kept going on and on. he liked it, all things considered, but after a while, it just wore down the soul so heavily that no joy could possibly escape it. it was like eating the best ice cream you've ever eaten for a month straight. By day three, you're still enjoying it and everything is fine. by week 2 it has started to become a begrudging like. you don't quite hate it yet, but the experience is nowhere close to as enjoyable as before. by week 3 you're killing neighbors in ritualistic fashion to whatever god will listen so that they can make the curse leave your miserable existence. A little dark there at the end, but nonetheless accurate.
The player went on thinking what could be done in the current situation that wasn't already being done? Well, there was the preparation for Hemlocke that needed to be done. With how little he knew about the Lightcasting style, the only thing he could think of was to clear a space on one of the sides of the Anvil so it could more directly absorb the energies emitted by the Demon Artisan's talents. He was just glad he had enough materials to get him through this. If he had to do another Mining session like the last one he would ACTUALLY kill neighbors in ritualistic fashion to whatever god would listen so that they could make the curse leave his miserable existence. No, He didn't have issues. YOU'RE being paranoid! All the player knew was that he would be glad when this all was over.
This crafting session had gone way off the rails already, and it wasn't even close to being done yet. With the unforeseen inclusion of the boar swords and the Heart of Twilight into the mix, this was shaping up to be one hell of an upgrade to Abyssian. This wouldn't need to be repeated for some time yet, so thought the player. It should last him at least until floor ten or so...maybe. he had no way of knowing since they hadn't even gotten to floor goddamn TWO yet...digressing. he was still kinda surprised that every tinkerer's item factored into metalworking. You would think that wouldn't be the case due to the nature of it, but there it was.
He wasn't complaining, mind, but it still seemed kinda odd to him. he checked the steadily increasing progress bar for how long the qued action was going to be, and it was remarkably close to being done. Just a few more and they could start phase three: making the swords themselves. 55 swords to make, and then an additional 12 boar swords to cram in once the Heart of Twilight was set in place. There was even a perfect spot for it on Abyssian. When the sword was first forged, there was a gem slot that was in the center of the crosspiece. Rota had no gem to slot in there, so he had placed his brand there to mark the spot. It was the perfect place for something of that thing's caliber. He could only imagine in his wildest dreams the power that Rota would command once this day was done. He could also only imagine what Alyxander's reaction to such a blade would be. his reaction to the Demon greatsword was priceless in and of itself, so what reaction would the latest form of Abyssian illicit? It was almost a game of one-upmanship now between them to see who could either get the biggest reaction out of the other or unveil the wildest new tchotchke to completely blow away the other. Yet every time each managed to rebut with something even more ludicrous than the other.
Those days were surely coming to a close with this. There was no way Alyx could hope to surpass this thing no matter how hard he tried. That thought, Alyx had become a very profound beast smith in his own right. The Beetle Armor he had made for Rota was truly inspired with how good it was. h4e almost hated to retire it, but Rota had the Bakugami set now, so there was no real reason so hang onto a downgrade...unless...The Player had an idea for something down the line, and the beetle armor would help immensely with that. The Player was getting tired, but there was no time to rest. he just wished he could ditch his headset and go for a soda, but he couldn't as long as Rota was working. Until then, He tried to keep his mind occupied with what could be done with the spectrum they had gained from the Boar. 255 spectrum was nothing to sneeze at. he contemplated buying a host of Prismatic eggs, and just experimenting to see what could all be done with them. Despite having ideas for what Anna-Mia would be using for a good long while as her combat pet, he could give her a bunch of prismatic eggs and then feed them to each other. He had no idea how many would be a reasonable amount though.
By his math, he could get 25 prismatic eggs and then one 5 spectrum knick-knack. 25 seemed excessive. 11 might do the trick. 1 Real egg, and 10 fodder ones. if that didn't do anything, then he had no idea what would do it since he wouldn't have any spectrum left after pulling that stunt on top of making a host of other purchases. hopefully, it wasn't just fairies that came from those, but the description gave evidence to the contrary so it was okay. Aside from that, the sky was the limit really. he just didn't know what Rota would want from the vendor for himself personally. There was going to have to be quite the discussion between them.
The player chanced a look at the progress bar, and it was almost finished. Roughly 85% done with. The player could have leapt out of his seat if he had any sort of motor control right now. It was time to make the final pushes if this thing was going to work. they would need to finish up what ingots they had made so the real smithing could begin when Hemlocke got here. he still couldn't believe not only was the avenue for the flashback to become reality but also that there was a character out there that he was going to be team smithing with. he still hadn't the foggiest idea of how that was going to work. Too many variables to count anything either in OR out here.
There was a lot of trust being placed in this character that The Player barely knew, but as it stood there was no way this magic woman was going to be able to compete with a demon warrior. Stronger characters had tried and failed to do that very thing. Maybe a field test was in order. Who truly own between them, Alyx or Rota? in terms of damage, Rota had a clear advantage, but there was no telling what tricks Alyx had up his sleeve, especially with the death of the boar. besides, Alyx's defenses were the best in the game so far (not an overwhelming achievement, mind, but it was a milestone nonetheless.) A sparring match could be just what they needed to gauge each other's powers and see where they needed to assist each other. *Yawn* it was getting far too late, but he couldn't give up now. He was too close to pulling this off. The player's mind drifted to the creatures Rota had fought in the abandoned mine. They had been a formidable force to be sure. Creatures that absorbed a status type, became immune to that status, and then dealt that status' damage. it would be a useful skill if it could be acquired one's self. Either way, Rota had the Bakugami set and the latest version of Abyssian in the works so there wasn't much room for pining.
That said, he was a little freaked that those things were just roaming the world now. Now that he knew the trick he would be fine, but how many would meet grisly fates now that those things were out there? Hell Alyx had claimed that SPIDERS had killed scores of players, and these things were infinitely more threatening. There was nothing he could do to stem the tide of such numerous creatures to start with. He doubted that even a spin that could have hit every one of those creatures would have resulted in any more than tickling them. There had simply been too many. he now understood why it was that those things had been sealed away as voraciously as they had been. The Gloomwood was not ready for an invasion of that magnitude. With no way to stop it, The player could just investigate the land he assumed the creatures came from. the land that the gloom forgot. Maybe there would be some answers as to what was going on in the Gloom and the Golden there? Maybe that was the birthplace of not only the creatures but also the Golems? Unlikely, but who knows? At the very least it was his only lead on whatever the hell those creatures were, and that was good enough for now.
He resolved to explore the Goldenwood and discover all its secrets. God help him if there were new mining materials he would kill someone, possibly a neighbor. Maybe or maybe not in ritualistic fashion. YOU have issues! In any regard, the Goldenwood had something to do with this new ability called 'Aura' so it was worth checking out on those grounds alone. Rota was becoming a character with a very diverse skill set. Being of light and discoverer of Aura. The Player hoped that there existed some sort of Darkness thing that could be wielded in much the same way as light so Rota could master that as well. By the end of this, Rota would have a tool for every situation, and no player killer would be able to stand toe to toe with him for a good long while without doing so much hacking that they would be a shining beacon for every moderator for ten servers over. Moderators for different MMOS would be able to see the code pouring into THEIR games he would need to hack so much. Part of The Player wanted Tarud to show up again so he could show him the true meaning of pain. He believed he had figured him out, now all that was left was to put theory into practice. besides, he had a Twin Blade that needed proper use.
Gizano was a nonissue. anyone who mentored themselves to gank newbies wasn't someone who would be able to put up much of a fight. They were the sort that NEEDED to gank newbies to make themselves feel better about themselves. Might as well be committing murder for what kind of game this was. It was fairly disgusting what they were doing. Farbeit for the Player to tell them how to play their game, but to intentionally go out to hack a game or just kill players wholesale in a permadeath game was a new level of bullshit that he was not mentally prepared to deal with. it didn't matter. he had Killed Achan, now there was just Tarud and Gizano left and the land would be pure once more.
Then there was the matter of the skill quests he would need to do after this. he was practically guaranteed one for metalworking again and then would come the one for weaponsmithing no doubt. Those would be really interesting to see how they would play out. The Iron Brotherhood had already seen what Rota was capable beforehand, so that quest was bound to get harder. For weaponsmithing, he had no clue what that would entail. Would it be similar to the Iron Brotherhood quest, or was there something else to it? Only time would tell for this game.
Any time he tried to predict it, he would only be correct in the broadest of senses. there was no way to predict what was going to happen in this game with pinpoint accuracy. it just could not happen. If one could, he would eat his feet. And that would be the common player, not anyone with any power over the game in any way. One would call that cheating. A smoke and mirrors clairvoyant. They were so close to being done with these 55 ingots that he could taste it. The rewards for doing so would launch Alyx, Rota, and the Player so far into the future that they would never touch Terra-firma again. he was confident of that fact.
So why was it so difficult to be motivated to finish this? Was it just the tedium, or was it something more? Was it him fighting against becoming so overpowered that the game would become boring? no that wasn't it. He was working damn hard for this power. he had earned this power. he had been given nothing in terms of from the game itself. Sure he had been guided from the beginning by Alyx, but that was just something that happened due to circumstance. he could have easily died in that first fight. Or easily have won. it would have been 50-50 odds either way. He wondered just how different he would be playing this game if he hadn't have met Alyxandeyr. Would he still be pursuing smithing as heavily, or would he have already gone to the second floor of his own accord since there would be no real things to tie him down? Now he was focusing on smithing to get him ready for a floor that was being pushed back by several paces by an event dungeon and a whole extra map to explore. There was no telling how much more there would be to do before the second floor became more than myth, but there were two places minimum left to explore before that happened. What he needed to focus on now was this crafting session. Once this was done, whole new avenues would open up for him to conquer.
There was a word. What would happen if the villager NPCs in the Goldenwood didn't necessarily greet the person who let loose the creatures they sealed away with open arms? He wouldn't fight those who could do no real harm to him or at least try to convince Rota not to. He didn't think that part would be an issue. The difference would be those that could harm Rota would die where they stood of they wouldn't listen to reason. He was not there to slaughter an entire village, he was there to get answers. As little casualties as possible, that would be the goal. Some casualties couldn't be helped, but it would be important not to forget that mantra before crossing the threshold. He still wondered just how much was different between the Goldenwood and the Gloomwood? Did they have the same creatures? Different creatures? Stronger creatures? Were there no encounters whatsoever? Too many questions, not enough time to go through them all. what mattered most was how to end the threat of the creatures that were unleashed. That was one of the most important questions hanging on his mind. He desperately hoped that Rota would not become a pariah because of his curiosity. There would be almost no coming back from something like that.
Once you are labelled the cause of a great disaster, that is a label that sticks with you for a long time. The only way to get it sponged away is to do something supercedingly heroic to counterbalance, and that becomes a rigmarole of doing the right things for the wrong reasons or mistaking a situation and doing a wrong thing. it's more fuss than it's worth sometimes. In any cane, the Player could see that Rota was finally putting the finishing touches on the last Ingot. Time sure does fly when you're having "fun", doesn't it? Time to see what the fruits were off this labor tree.
((Alyx crafting large beast enclosure spending 40 glint on nails. consuming 10 planks
Carpentry arte: large beast enclosure 10 planks and 4 units of nails builds a large beast enclosure, which can be used to hold two tamed creatures of the same species, or one large creature.
Alyx decided to buckle down and get something that they were going to need if they were going to ever pursue beastmastery again. Selecting a supply of his old planks, and pulling out the nails that he'd just purchased from the encampment, the Gloomking set about crafting a large enclosure for the beastmasters in the guild to make use of. Could he really call it a guild, yet? He wasn't sure. But there were beasts, and he and Rota had tamed some, so likely others would be interested in trying it out as well. So, with a little elbow grease, these scattered pieces of shaped wood and metal would become a tool to further the goals of the beastmasters that they might encounter in their journeys. It was not long before he had completed his task, and he placed the enclosure outside, where it took up half of a unit of land. Surely that would be big enough for what they needed it for... Right?
Current skills in use: Carpentry: 7 Current active titles:
: +2 to all rolls while in groups, +2 to all crafting rolls
Current equipment:
Main hand:Name: Gloomfang Description: A legendary straight sword harvested by Alyxandeyr, the Gloomking, from slaying a Gloomweave Spider. The blade, which sprouts from the mouth of a small gloomweave spider, glistens with a sickening sheen, venom permanently coating its silvery-purple edge. The hilt of the sword features a sickly crossguard, the legs of the spider curling upward toward the blade. When Alyx wraps his fingers around the silk-covered hilt, the legs of the spider constrict with the crepitant sound of old bones to secure the weapon to his fist. Dropped by: Gloomweave Spider Type: One Hand Straight Sword +198 roll1 (196.88 ) +153.89 damage +15.2 poison for 6 rounds durability: 100/100.14 Upgrade: 1/55 (+1.25 roll1) Chroma: 0/1 Off-hand: Name: Aegis of the Usurper Description: A legendary shield harvested by Alyxandeyr, the Gloomking, from a gloomweave spider. The shield is a preserved gloomweave spider carapace. The fangs of the spider thrust forward past the wearer's fist, and the spinneret extends to protect Alyxandeyr past his left elbow. When held at rest, the point of the shield rises almost to Alyx' shoulder. The eyes of the spider shine softly, watching his enemies, and the fangs glisten with venom. Type: shield +66.65 roll1 damage capacity: 57.98 poison: +2 for 6 rounds Durability: 46/46.15 Upgrade: 1/54 Chroma: 0/1 Head: Mantle of the Gloomking Type: Helmet (cloak) Stats: immunity to effects Upper armor: Heavy Gloombeetle Upper Crafted by: Alyxandeyr stat: damage mitigation: 24 | 54 damage reduction: 1 | 3 upgrade: 0/14 Lower armor: Heavy Gloombeetle Lower Crafted by: Alyxandeyr stat: damage mitigation: 22 | 49 damage reduction: 1 | 3 upgrade: 0/11 Ring1: Gloombeetle Ring: Type: Ring +1 damage reduction per attack while worn. Ring2: Gloomrat Ring: Type: Ring +2 poison damage per round per attack while worn Ring3: Bone Ring: A ring made of bone. Wearing this ring allows the player to transform into a skeleton for 5 posts at a time, once per battle. As a skeleton, the player is immune to , , any blood-borne effects (such as paralysis from a bite attack). However, the player will take 25% additional damage from crushing weapons, and will be treated as . Can only wear one Bone Ring at a time. Ring4: Necklace: Trophy: Dire Wolf Trophy (stage 1): The massive paw of a Dire Wolf preserved with techniques that infused Light into the material. While active, this trophy grants the user +5 to their base AP. Combat pet: Utility pet:
Second set:
Main hand: Name: Gloomshard Description: An elegant One Hand Straight Sword that has a white hilt and an almost white pale blade that seems to softly glow from within. It is adorned with brightly polished silver fittings, including a straight, broad crossguard and a small, crown-shaped pommel. It is named because it is as though a shard of light has been made physical and forged into a weapon. Crafted By: Rota Emptiet Abyssian Type: One Hand Straight Sword Durability: 10 Stats: +6 roll1 +10 damage Upgrade: 0/26 Off-hand Name: Gloomguard Crafted by: Rota Emptiet Abyssian Type: shield Durability: 12/13 Stats: +10 roll1 15 damage capacity Upgrade: 0/11
((forging 55 THSS out of 110 ingots per 29 Weaponsmith skill using all forge bonuses from previous posts. Half Innate gloomiron Ingots, half Alchemical Innate Master's Iron ingots, with one remainder being made of one of each ingot. First twenty featured here, next twenty directly underneath, and the remaining 15 directly underneath that))
Rota had finished inspecting the last of the Alchemical Innate Master's Iron ingots, the mouthful that those were, and was beginning to lay down the plans for how he was going to make each Greatsword. it was at this moment that he felt a pull on his psyche threatening to make him pass out and he knew what was going on immediately. Rota's eyes hardened in a fierce glare that could kill an army as the greying of his eyes and hair was relegated to a chunk of the left side of his head, his left eye greying out and a decent chunk of his hair on his left side being grey as well.
Player was contacting him. He wished there was a less strenuous way that they could communicate, but it was what it was. he was just glad that he had the power to rise up against his nerdy oppressor now. He grabbed two ingots, one of the first set and the other of the second and both being the same relative quality, and began working them into a blade. He could almost swear he felt another presence in the room that he hadn't felt before, but that could have just been the mental overload from actively interacting with Player. "What do you want now? I know you can see that I'm busy. Don't you have anything better to do than watch me toil away?" he was making no effort to hide his frustrations with his former slaver. This was someone he did not hold in high regard at all.
The Player sighed. this was going to be a long talk. "I need to talk to you a bit more about what's been going on with this whole situation." The Player didn't know how to even begin to start saying what was on his mind when the unexpected happened.
Rota piped up in between swords. "You're thinking about killing me." Rota could feel the blood of Player turn ice cold. While Rota didn't like giving up pocket aces, waiting on this yutz to cough up what was on his mind was going to take way too long. "I don't know why it works, but I can not only feel your emotions but also hear your thoughts. I've...been listening the whole time you were thinking about this."
The Player now really didn't know how to respond. "So...uh...what are your thoughts on this?"
Rota sighed deeply. The topic of his own mortality was already not a very happy topic, to say the least, but now he had to communicate them with someone he didn't necessarily get along with. "I don't know. You have valid points on each matter. If whatever is affecting me is contagious, I don't want to curse anyone else with this existence. Especially Alyx and Anna-Mia. That said, I'm confident that finishing this plan will fix part of my psyche. I think You'll be stuck with sentient me for the foreseeable future since I'm not going to give this up willingly, but at least I won't become a blind rage beast like before." Rota's hammer came down in time with his heartbeat, which was going at a fairly decent pace despite the subject matter of the conversation. It seemed that the Demon Warrior had given this some thought himself. "If I have to be put down...I wouldn't choose anyone other than Alyx. Anna-Mia is too young and pure to corrupt with killing a loved one, especially with everything she's been through. Alyx is the only one who's strong enough to even be able to do it. if he can't do it, no one can."
The Player was in shock, but also a little proud. "I'm sorry I ever doubted you, Rota."
The apology threw Rota off a bit before he returned back to his normal pace. "I keep telling people nowadays, underestimate me at your own peril."
The Player shook his head which was unseeable by his avatar. "That's not it. I'm sorry I ever doubted you were the real Rota Abyssian. Your name, appearance, and personality all mirror the Rota Abyssian that I created as a personal analogue of myself. Everything I wish I was is personified in Rota Abyssian. For a while, I doubted that whatever was happening to you could replicate that personality to a T. Yet here you are, doing something I would expect of that Rota Abyssian without any input from me. In my mind, you are the real Rota Abyssian. I am sorry I doubted you."
Rota didn't know how to respond to that. he had been so set in his mind that no matter what he was going to hate the person who had dared try to control him, yet here that same person was showing nothing but respect and regret. maybe...NO! This changed NOTHING! "And why should I believe you? You're just spouting whatever lie you think will get you back in your good graces. If what you say is true, then you know it won't work."
The Player sighed audibly. He knew that he could be stubborn, but Rota was made of way sterner stuff regarding the subject. "I know, Rota Emptiet Abyssian. I know that this is a process that won't happen overnight. I don't even blame you for having these feelings about me. But I know that we can be stronger together than we are apart. I know that You mean so much more to me than I can ever say. Most of all, I know that I am sorry for everything I've done to you. You deserve better than me." The player's apology was to two entities in that moment: The Rota immediately before him, and every Rota in the past that he had written with the intent that they would fail their goals. Now that the person himselves was in front of him to call him out on it, he regretted it more than he ever had before. "I vow here and now that I will do everything in my power to help you get to floor 100, beyond breaking the laws of your reality. I.E. I will never hack for you. That incident where you used the Twin Blade when it should have been impossible for you was not me, but the glitches that are making you their b***h right now."
Rota slammed his hammer down hard on the blade he was currently working on. "Wow, that last part is NOT helping!"
The player scoffed. "Please, we both know you have a stronger will than that. Just feel what you're doing right now! You're having a conversation with your creator as he should be using your body directly right now, but instead, you are fighting him off and maintaining control despite every law of reality saying differently. Are you gonna let a measly glitch get the better of you? Guess you aren't really the real Rota after all."
Rota grinned with hostility. "I know exactly what your little game here is."
The player smiled "...And?"
Rota slammed his hammer down on the latest sword. "You're not wrong. That's why this is going on in the first place. I need to give the positive voices in my head a louder presence."
The player teasingly feigned emotional damage. "Oh is that so?"
Rota continued to hammer as hard and stable as he could to finish this task as fast as he could. he already felt like he had spent far too much time on the task as it was. he scoffed as he did so, however, "Until recently, you were not in that exclusive club. Abyssian is more of an ever-present voice than you are. he doesn't have to half-dominate to communicate with me." There was no telling how long this was going to take until it was done. he had made swords before, but he had never made an army's worth of swords at one solid go. or in general for that matter. All the demon artisan knew was that he needed to press on no matter what adversity stood firmly in his way. Mostly tedium was the thing that stood in his way. He just needed to keep his eyes on the prize, the prize being the strongest sword in existence. A sword that would never need this level of attention for the vast majority of its life span ever again. Every swing of his hammer brought him closer and closer to his penultimate goal, and as such it firmly attached its rhythm to the pace of his heart. Despite being upgrade fodder, Rota maintained his eye for detail and elitist levels of quality control. That said his standards were also measurably lowered for the sake of having a fair balance of efficiency, quality, and speed. The young girl in the candy dungeon still weighed heavily on his mind. This blade would single handedly win them the day when it came time to invade that dungeon once again. he would not fail, COULD not fail with everything he had been through. he had too much to live for. Too much to see.
The player let Rota work in relative silence, going out of OOC chat and relinquishing full control back to his avatar. The player didn't think he would ever get used to thinking or doing that. he regretted starting a project such as this pretty thoroughly at this point. he wished in some way he could abort this personal goal, but the both of them were so close to the end that it would be an insult to the time they had spent doing this to just give up now. They had to press on as a unit. The sooner this was done, the sooner they could achieve their goals. Who knows, maybe this insane level of crafting even EARNED them new thresholds? it wasn't unreasonable to think of it. The Iron Brotherhood had been looking to Rota for skill, so maybe he had caught their eye again. There might also be a group dedicated to the craft of swords that neither of them knows about. Smiths are a weird bunch like that. All the player could do was focus on the end with all his might. He wasn't even sure it was going to work like he thought it would. he was in all new territory. Literally, most things could happen in a scenario like this. Well, he couldn't say ANYTHING since it was pretty impossible for the result to be the creation of the final boss or a golem, or etc., but things still relating to smithing were still on the table. he was still very nervous how all of this was going to go. one missed calculation on either of their parts could make this a disaster of a weapon. This Abyssian had to be stronger than the Demon Greatsword. it just had to be at this point. Come hell or high water that was going to happen. The player quickly toggled OOC twice as an alarm of sorts to let Rota know that he wanted to talk more.
Rota felt the pulse in his brain and smiled. At least Player was learning. He prepared himself for it and said "Ready." he felt the, unfortunately, familiar pull happen once more as he resisted the full dominance that happened when Player used that function. It was taking less and less of his effort to pull that off as he was getting used to it, but it was still something that he wished he didn't have to get used to. "What do you want now? Kinda busy building our mutual futures here."
The Player ignored the half-joking jibe and carried on naturally. "I would like to see what you know of your past."
Rota shook his head as the ever constant clangs of his hammer against the fledgling swords and anvil rang out. "Not much to tell that you don't already know. You made me after all."
The Player smiled and said, "That's where you're wrong. Sure I wrote a synopsis of who you are in the context of this world, but you being an independent being led to memories that I have no input on. Your history was yours the second you gained free thought."
Rota almost dropped his hammer. it was the promise of something that he never thought possible. While this was just a game to Player, that didn't mean that this world WASN'T REAL. The Demon Warrior had been looking at this from all the wrong angles. While he wasn't the most learned person out there, even he knew of alternate dimensions. What demon DIDN'T? It was pretty much integral to their whole existence. Why had he never considered this as a possibility? too much depression, likely. Rota cleared his throat. "While my memory is foggy, I'll tell you what I can remember of my life's story. Chime in when things don't make sense or make too much sense to you."
The Player's smile got wider as he reclined in his desk chair. "Go for it, I'm all ears."
Rota himself took a breath to compose himself and his thoughts. When he was ready, he began. "I lived in a small town of tradesmen on the edge of a barren wasteland. it was close enough to plentiful land to make a handsome living, but not so close as to attract the monsters and such that come with such a landscape. Despite being out in a wasteland, business was still good. it helps when your father is Rolia Abyssian the Forge Lord. people will come from near and far to get the wares of a Master Artisan. I lived with Dad, my twin sister Violet, and my younger Brother Garrett."
The Player cocked an eyebrow with much trouble. he had never been good at those, but he couldn't help try regardless and the inquisitive intent was still there. "Hold on. You had siblings there? What of your Mother?"
Rota cocked an eyebrow at that for being interrupted so soon. "Yeah, I had a brother and sister. Violet would be about my age with white hair, and my brother would be about 5 years younger than I am with purple hair. For some reason, I'm the only one who inherited Dad's look. As for my mom...I can't remember her much. If at all. I don't even remember her name."
The Player was very intrigued. "See, here's where we get to something interesting immediately. I wrote you as an only child in this universe. Sure, I never said you DIDN'T have siblings, but I never mentioned them in your history for here. In fact, while Violet has been connected to you in multiple stories of mine, Garrett and she have never been in the same universe. in fact, you remembering them both not only tells me a lot about that but also that you remembered their NAMES exactly. as such, I won't tell you the name of your mother in other universes. I'm really interested to see if that to matches up eventually."
Rota was taken aback. That was a hell of a bomb to drop on him so soon. It instilled a fresh dose of confidence in him though if what Player was saying was true. He took a deep breath and began again.
"Our life was good for a long time. We had once encounter with bandits while Dad was away for business but that was a small bump in the road. Though protecting Violet and Garrett was what cemented in my mind to become a warrior. Until that point, that hadn't been something I had ever considered, but defending them made a lot of sense to me. Plus the feeling of a sword in my hands felt RIGHT. At that point, I began to slack on my studies to become a blacksmith like Dad. he was never really happy about that. While the Abyssian lineage had been known for breaking the status quo from child to parent, My Dad had always hoped that I would break it instead of doing what he did to my Grandpa."
The Player slammed his hand on his desk in shock. "Excuse me?! GRANDPA?" Rota shrugged. "Yeah, what of it?" The player was shaking. "In all of my stories, Rota's grandfather had never revealed himself. or even been mentioned. You are remembering brand new territory. Do you remember his name? What he looked like?"
Rota became very white very fast. He hadn't expected this intensity from Player. He wracked his brain trying to think of instances. "Umm...not that I remem-" like a flash, images poured into his brain. "He was a tall man, even taller than Rolia. He had a long grey and white beard almost like a wizard's. On inspection, his natural hair color was white and the grey had come with age. he was largely bald on top with some hair on his temples. His face was wizened with age, but he still had scars on it from what seemed like battles in his youth. His eyes were slitted like a cat's and they were a Forest Green with Emerald green pupils. he was stoic at rest, but he had the nicest smiles you had ever seen. He was astoundingly built due to being a full blood demon, looking like he could lift three anvils unassisted. Daryst was an amazing man. I never got the opportunity to see what his True Demon form looked like."
The Player made sure to commit all of that to memory. Rota's lore was being built in front of him and he would make damn well sure not to forget it. "Okay. Got it. Please continue."
Rota blinked a few times, breathing in and out to make sure he wasn't hallucinating, and then continued where he left off. "My dad had always tried to groom me towards being a blacksmith like him. He truly believed I could break the cycle since I was only a half demon, a first for the Abyssian line. I was just never a dedicated study. I always wanted to pursue being a Warrior to the point where I would lose sleep staying up and training. As such, I had some really lethargic days to Dad's dismay. I guess to some extent his teachings worked out in a way. I never forgot them and am using those techniques to this day. As far as Violet and Garrett are concerned, not many memories are there anymore. Whatever barrier I crossed to get into this dimension really scrambled my brain. I'm surprised I remembered Grandpa Daryst at all, to be honest."
The player reclined in his chair again, taking in all that was said to him. "That's okay. That's why I'M here. Not only to listen o what you have to say but also to be another person for you to bounce ideas off of. Do you remember ANYTHING about your time with your siblings?"
Rota had to think about that one pretty hard. After a while of thought, he responded. "A few. Garrett was one of the more trusting people I have ever known. heh, in fact, Anna-Mia and he would probably get along pretty well. I know Violet was always my shadow in a number of ways. She really took it hard when I left to do this. She wanted to come with me so bad. She had helped me a lot in training myself late at night. I think she could've learned a lot of her sword and shield technique from Alyxandeyr, actually. It's so strange. I only just remembered them today, and yet I miss them both so much now. Garrett's ever chipper demeanor, despite the rough times we had when he was really young, and Violet's calm yet passionate outlook. I wonder what life paths they pursued once I left."
Rota went quiet for a good length of time It was really sinking in how much they completed his life. he cared for them SO MUCH. He missed all of his family dearly. There was no guarantee that he would ever be able to see them again. That was why he had to live. He couldn't let himself fall to this tower for anything. he had to go back and apologize to all of them for leaving like he did. Part of it...okay a lot of it was largely selfish of him to leave, and he had to make up for lost time.
The Player sat and drank all of the info in. it was lining up amazingly with how his Original Character worked in other media. In fact, this new universe for Rota was amazing in how it not only invented characters that had never existed until now but merged characters that had never met almost seamlessly. If only he could use this program to dictate to so it could write while he talked, then all of the ideas in his head could not only be novelized perfectly, but also given the images in his head as well. it would be so perfect.
The Player stopped himself from gushing to continue asking questions. "Okay. So what of your meeting with Anna-Mia? How did that go down?"
Rota himself snapped out of it when Player talked. Probably for the best. "Well, I met Anna-Mia in a dense coniferous forest near mountains. It was eerily quiet for a long time. no animals were mingling at ALL. The whole forest seemed to be bereft of fauna. That was until I heard the crying of a little girl. her face was so red from crying so hard, and she had been thinking out loud on what to do with herself. I couldn't help but overhear that she hadn't seen her family in at least a week and that despite her training from her parents she was completely lost. Can't say I blame her, stress and trauma do weird things to otherwise rational minds.
I tried to go up to her and comfort her at first, but she was really skittish at the beginning. She ran up a tree and refused to come down for a full day. I stayed away from her for that whole day, just keeping watch over her. I didn't leave to eat or sleep, I just watched over her to make sure she was safe. I think that got her attention since after that day she finally opened up to me a bit. She asked how much of her thoughts I had heard, and I admitted to what I had heard, thinking that lying was not the best option in this case. She looked embarrassed so I told her a little about me to make things even.
I told her of my family and some of the experiences we had been through. In hindsight, I suppose you could see that as gloating about how my family was still around, but it seemed to distract her from her problems for a while so at least it didn't backfire. She started talking to me about her family after that. Apparently, her birth parents had been swept up in an accident to the best of her memory, at least what she told. She had lived in a mansion for what little of that life she remembered until a fire broke out. The blaze had separated her from her parents and despite looking for them for days afterward she couldn't find anyone who lived there. Not even the staff. It was then that she ran into the forest to look for food and shelter.
Once there, she managed to stumble across a council of Dragons. While they were initially understandably pissed of that a young human had managed to wander into their court in a glen in the forest, she had pleaded her case as best she could with a five-year-old's vocabulary before passing out from malnourishment and exhaustion. When she awoke, she was surrounded by woodland creatures of both mundane and fantastic varieties.
The Dragons stated that since she had no human relatives to speak of that they would be remiss to just leave her to the wolves so to speak. They would give her one chance to impress them with what she could provide, any skill to speak of, and if she could then they would take her in and protect her for the rest of her life. Now Young Anna-Mia was not the most skilled person out there. Hell, she could barely read or write, and her motor skills were severely lacking. These by her own descriptions, of course. The one thing she could think to do was give her love to them. She scanned the crowd for the surliest looking creature she could find. This happened to be a freaking MANTICORE. This five-year-old girl managed to hoist her feeble body up and shamble towards the beast looking at her like a fat man looks at an all you can eat buffet. Despite it warning her not to get close or it would eviscerate her without a thought, she got in close and hugged it. Hugged it as hard as her weakened state would allow. This apparently baffled literally everything in the glen. When the Manticore asked why she was doing this, and what she hoped to prove, she merely responded with 'All creatures are pretty. I know some might be scared of you because you're big and powerful, but I think you need love too.' and with that, she passed out again.
She awoke next to a pile of food and the same creatures around her. Her selflessness and bravery to give a literal man-eating beast compassion in the one instant that she needed to be selfish touched the dragon council in a way that they had not expected. They all took her on as their child and would teach her their ways and the ways of humans that she should really know. She said that every creature variety had their own name for her, but she wouldn't say them. They were really special to her in that way, plus she said that her Dragon Parents took a lot of stock in names. It's a magic thing.
Anyways, she detailed all of her days learning from them. We had to have spent at least a full day talking about her time there, taking some breaks to eat and such, but by day two things began to get more dire. Despite my best efforts, she started to cry again. When I asked why she finally let me know that her entire family, meaning all the creatures of the forest, had been taken from her. When I asked how in the seven hells that were possible, she said she didn't know. She just woke up and everything was gone. all save a note telling her that if she ever wanted to see her family again that she would come to the tower.
Being a nine-year-old girl at this point, she had NO CLUE where the tower was, WHAT the tower was, or how to get there. It was then that I told her I was going the same way, and her eyes lit up when I told her that she could come with me. it's not like I was going to leave a defenseless little girl in the wilderness. Besides, I thought she was going to be around me more than she ended up being, unfortunately. We started walking after that, and we got to talking more. in honesty, I was glad for the company. if there was anything the walk beforehand had taught me was that a solo walkabout was amazingly lonely. I couldn't even imagine what Anna-Mia was going through. While we were walking, I said the only sensible thing that popped into my head, and that was an offer to make her part of my family.
She was so happy. I had never felt such a genuine hug of love and affection in my life. I can see why the Manticore was so taken with her. She started calling me big brother and I, in turn, got to call her two names. Either little sister, or the name that beings of darkness evidently had taken to calling her: Dark Confidant. It is a powerful title amongst demon kind. it is the highest praise we can give to someone who interacts with the darkness but does not embody it themselves. I didn't know anything about this girl before I met her but just knowing that one thing alone would have told me WORLDS about her ability and influence. few beings EVER get the title of Dark Confidant, and this little blue-eyed, black-haired girl had done it in a maximum of four years. To say I was thoroughly impressed would be tragically underselling her talent. I mean, this little girl had the chops to have that title in FOUR YEARS. People try their whole lives to earn a fraction of that respect!"
The player nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I myself have been trying to please a demon for most of my life."
Rota stopped what he was doing for a minute to digest that. "Yes yes, you're very smart. Shut up. Anyways, we had walked for what felt like ages. We would walk a while, eat, sleep, and then continue when we were both rested enough for the pilgrimage. After a fair trek, we finally made it to the portal that would take us to the tower. It was a massive portal between two trees. The poor thing was scared to death of going, but at the same time, I have never seen such determination in such young eyes to do literally ANYTHING. She held my hand for comfort as we both stepped through the portal together. Then I woke up in the room of light, and the rest is history."
The player thought about this for a while. This all lined up with his back story of Anna-Mia and what he had told Hemlocke. Perhaps the unthinkable was happening and Anna-Mia was beginning to become sapient too? It was a chilling thought since that would mean that the bug or whatever was spreading, but at the same time he couldn't help but be intrigued for what that meant for the future. With the latest system updates he would have to make a third character to test how far this went. This time he would make one with literally no connection to Rota and see where things went from there. He did have other characters he had made in other games that had never met the Half-Demon Hellion of an avatar that Rota was. "Well, if that was all of your memories about Anna-Mia, then what of your connection to Daryst? Any new memories crop up there?"
That took Rota some time to unpack. He had only JUST remembered Daryst. "He...was a peaceful man from what I remember. Despite that, I think I heard once that he was a Royal Guard. Evidently, my family is pretty high in the realms of nobility, despite my upbringing. I want to say that my Father had the opportunity to be the current Demon King if he truly wanted. I think Dad turned it down in favor of being a Blacksmith. I remember asking why and I think he said it just didn't appeal to him so he left it for his Sister to do since she had been grooming herself towards that anyways."
the Player nearly spat out his drink. "Sister? You have an AUNT TOO?!"
Rota sighed. "Evidently my extended family is a major blindspot in your writing. You really need to work on that. Since I imagine you'll want details, her name was Ulona. She is the twin sister of my father, thus making my Dad having twins more likely. Evidently, during her youth, she was always jealous that Dad had inherited the abilities of Daryst and she didn't. I don't know what makes them so special though."
The player chuckled to himself mildly. "Oh, you'll find out one day if I have any say about it."
Rota cocked his eyebrow but went back to monologuing. "Ulona was gorgeous. I think with her cold and calculated attitude, Violet looked up to her a lot. She was the sort of demoness that took flak from NOBODY, and anyone who dared cross her felt the fury of her winds. Her eyes were slitted like Daryst's but only her iris was colored pink. She didn't have colored pupils like Dad, Daryst, and I. I think that was a symbol of the family gene being passed on a generation. I just happened to get lucky and get Dad's eyes as well. It's weird though that His eyes and My eyes are both the standard human-y eyes when Grandpa had slitted ones.
In any case, Grandpa had apparently been a Head Royal Guard during my Grand Uncle's tenure as King. Daryst was the older brother, so he felt that it was his duty to protect his younger brother. That duty apparently still carries on to looking after Aunt Ulona. Daryst was apparently pretty ticked when Dad refused to be a guard nor a king when it came time to choose his own path. In his own words, he had decided to 'Forge his own path'. he apparently meant that semi-literally considering his job outlook. From talking to Grandpa the few times that I did, it had taken him a good set of years to come to terms with that, though once he had thought about His own father damning him for choosing the path of the guard instead of the King he should have been, he couldn't be too mad.
It was just odd for him to digest that after so many years of Abyssians being nobles, one that had the most potential chose to live the meager life of a Blacksmith instead. Instead of furthering the legacy of nobility, he chose to return to where the family had come from. I never got to talk to GrandUncle Querca. As with any Abyssian, one had to show them the proper respect, but I never knew him personally. Grandpa Daryst still spoke of him fondly though. I just really wish I had gotten to know Rosalia."
the Player slammed his hands on the desk so hard he could swear that he broke his hand. no time for that. "That name! Where do you know that name from?!"
Rota was taken aback by the sudden intensity. He wracked his brain long and hard, trying to search his heart and soul for the answer. "I remember it...from Dad's wedding ring. I had seen the Croire inscription once and asked about it. He had told me that it was an inscription for his wedding ring to Mom. I had asked who had the other ring, and he said Rosalia had it. Rosalia is my mom. She...isn't around. She had both Violet and I just fine, but apparently the strain of having Garrett just 5 years after twin Demons was too much for her to take, even for how much of a fighter she was. I know she isn't dead, Dad never said she was, but he refused to talk about why she wasn't around anymore. To this day, I have no clue about what happened.
To his credit, Dad never seemed to hold her absence against Garrett, and I don't think Garrett even knew about it since if I didn't tell him, I'm sure Dad didn't. I don't remember if Violet knew or not why she was gone, but Violet always seemed to have the better memory of the two of us. If she knew, she bottled it inside like she usually did. As much as she wanted others to share and confide in her, she rarely did the same. I think she felt responsible to be a mother figure to Garrett, though I will never understand why.
I can see Mom's figure, but only as if in shadow. I can't remember her voice or anything she said to me. Positive or otherwise. I was too young. I don't think you'll get too much more out of me in this regard. Whatever else I had ever known about Mom is lost to time." Rota started chuckling somberly at the thought. "To think. You were able to pry into my mind and pull out people not even you recognized, yet the other half of people I should have burned into my memory is just gone. She's gone, and I'll never be able to see her. Not even in my dreams. Any face I could describe would just be a figment of my imagination. Some construct based on what I would want her to look like made of the features of other women. An entire person just lost.
Not only that, me remembering these things has made me remember how much rides on this. If I fail here, I will never see them again. I will never see them again, and I will have only myself to blame."
The player maintained a reclined position in his chair. There was no telling with the demon warrior where this train of thought could lead. "If I have anything to say about this, you will not only reach the top of this tower, but you will triumph and have your name above every single door. I cannot promise you victory, but I will do my level best to get you there. THAT I swear."
Rota looked down at the anvil, and all the swords he had made, hiding his eyes from Player. "You've made a valiant effort here today, and no one can take that away from you. You distracted me for a while and that helped facilitate this part of the crafting process." The Demon Artisan raised his head his face determined and stoic towards where he knew Player could see. He wanted to look him in the eyes as he said these next words. "But you know I still don't trust you. no amount of prying into my history and buttering me up will make me trust you. You want that trust? Fantastic! EARN IT. Now leave my head. Your welcome is worn out."
Without a word from Player, he felt the pull on his mind fade away, and the world became clearer again.Rota would never truly get used to that, but then again he never wanted to. he questioned a lot of his mistrust, but the fact of the matter was that he was used like his pawn. That level of betrayal doesn't go away in a day. no matter how many swords get made. Looking around, however, as he quenched the last sword he had done a considerable amount of work in an amount of time that felt fairly brief. He needed to talk to people more if this was the kind of work ethic that it would inspire in the Demon Artisan.
