The Rifleman - Ch.41 (Patreon)
Content
Chapter Forty-One
The Fallen Dungeon.
The first encounter room was not much of an improvement over the passage that had brought them here. It had rusty walls, a ceiling covered in pipes, and even more rust on the grating that covered a large pit beneath the room.
“Oh look, more rust,” Wesley commented drily as he saw the spikes glinting dully from the base of the pit.
“Here it comes,” Malia said with a nod to the far side of the room. She stepped to stand in front of Wes as the pile of pipework and rusty machinery rumbled and creaked as it drew together into what appeared to be a mechanical beaver of some sort. The extensive dents, damage, and rust that covered it in abundance made it difficult to tell precisely what it was supposed to be. “I’ll keep it distracted, you do your thing, and we move on,”
“Got it,” Wesley nodded, replacing the clip in his rifle to ensure he was ready. “Shall I call the sim—”
The beaver thing took a single lumbering step toward them, and the rusted through grating below it gave way, sending the encounter boss tumbling into the pit, where dozens of iron spears pierced it.
“Uh,” Malia blinked. “Okay. Shoot it, I guess?”
Wesley happily complied, and two basic rounds later, the whole encounter was over.
“Is this normal?” Wesley asked. “No way this is normal, right?”
“It could be a trap,” Malia paced back and forth as she thought. “Something to lull us into thinking this is an easy win before we are killed by some trap.”
“Like something attacks when we try and loot the boss?” Wesley asked.
“Possibly,” Malia nodded. “Send in one of your sims, just to be sure.”
Wesley guiltily summoned his sims, sending his own clone into the pit to pretend to loot the boss. To his surprise, nothing happened, and the simulacrum was able to loot the boss on his behalf.
Of course, that left the loot at the bottom of the pit… but no trap sprung.
“Okay, be careful down there,” Malia nodded to the pit. “Be ready to jump out if anything happens.”
“I’m going?” Wesley asked. “When did we decide I was going?”
“I’m not as fast as you,” Malia lied shamelessly.
“See, you think appealing to my ego will work,” Wesley said mildly.
“Isn’t it?” Malia asked with a smirk.
“Well, yes,” Wesley grumbled. “I just wanted you to know that I know what you are doing.”
“That’s nice,” Malia gestured down into the pit. “Off you go.”
“We are now the proud owners of one energy crystal, two vials of oil, and the nastiest-looking bit of rusty iron I have ever seen,” Wesley said as he crouched between the spears. “Do I have to collect that? I feel like I’ll get tetanus just looking at it.”
“No, leave it,” Malia called, “Just hurry up, will you?”
“Patience is a virtue, oh noble knight,” Wesley teased as he collected the other items into his storage box and then shifted back to a wisp. “Coming up!”
Despite his calm pretense, every inch of him expected some sort of trap to spring when he tried to leave the pit, but nothing happened.
Malia still looked anxious as they carefully crept around the room's edges and entered another corridor, identical to the one that brought them here except mercifully free of the fetid water.
“I think we might have stumbled on a fallen dungeon,” Malia told him as they carefully threw a pair of rusty bolts from the floor in each direction, only moving once they found where the actual tunnel was. “I’ve only heard of them as a rumor, so, yeah.”
“What makes it fallen?” Wesley asked. “Or is it just the general disrepair?”
“Basically, it hasn’t had anyone come in for a long time. It runs out of essence when not used frequently, so it starts to break down.” Malia stepped smoothly aside as a rusty pipe mantis dropped from above, assisting it down to the ground with a blow from her mace. It shattered from the impact of the floor. “All its essence is tied up in these mobs.”
“So basically, it's starving?” Wesley asked uneasily. “Not sure I like that. Starving things tend to get a bit bitey.”
“Not exactly,” Malia went on, “I’m guessing a big group entered here, so the dungeon spawned everything it could, as big as it could, but they left before actually doing anything.”
“You can do that?” Wesley asked. “Just look around and leave?”
“Player Characters can,” Malia corrected him. “Anyway, no one else used the dungeon after that, and it didn’t have any free essence to repair and maintain. It slowly rots, or rusts, in this case, until someone comes in and kills enough to free up enough essence, or the dungeon collapses entirely.”
“I assume they are dangerous places,” Wesley hinted again, wanting to know how much trouble they were in.
“Very,” Malia smiled. “Passages will appear to go on when they don’t. Traps could trigger randomly, or not at all, or after someone steps on them a dozen times, the dungeon creatures could behave strangely. Basically, all the rules are thrown out the window.” She dodged another mantis, which Wesley dispatched with the butt of his rifle. The things were too rusted in this section to do more than try and drop on the pair, so they were a minimal threat at best.
Looting seemed to do nothing, just as had been the case in the first passage.
“We should start getting more loot as we release more of the essence,” Malia nodded to the unlootable mob.
“But is the dungeon rabid or something like that?” Wesley asked.
“Not in the slightest,” Malia corrected him. “Some of the mobs might be, but the dungeon is just low on resources. The more we kill, the more essence it gets back, the more normal it will become. We are basically fixing the imbalance as we go. If we can complete the dungeon, we might even get special loot.”
Wesley was still trying to get his head around the idea of the dungeon giving better loot as thanks for fixing it when they came to the next encounter room. It was again a large circular room, but this time, the floor looked solid.
Two metal beavers were waiting for them, assembled and ready.
I’ll take the one on the left,” Wesley said when he saw the legs were rusted solid, only the head able to move. “I’ll be quick, then come and join you?”
“No,” Malia corrected. “You can finish it off when I do this one. Twin enemies often have an enrage mechanic when one dies.”
“Shit,” Wesley sighed. “Sorry.”
“No problem,” Malia said gently. “Just let me guide us through this place, okay?”
“You’re the boss,” Wesley agreed.
“Don’t worry,” Malia said with a smile. “You’re still new; in a few months, you’ll be a pro.”
She turned and accessed the bosses, pointing out the weak points in the mobile creature, and finally changed her hammer and shield for her Warhammer.
“On three,” Malia said. “One, two, three!”
She charged into the mechanical beaver, the Warhammer slamming into the giant teeth, causing them to buckle inwards as Wesley opened fire with an Armor Piercing Round aimed for the left shoulder.
The bullet turned the shoulder joint into a mass of twisted metal and broken gears. The entire forearm sheared off, and the boss tumbled to the side, slamming into the rusted mess of its partner… which shattered into pieces.
“Damnit!” Malia swore and leaped away, preparing another charge as the first boss suffused with a bright red energy that promptly tore it apart at the seams.
Wesley dove for Malia, surrounding them on three sides with his My Shield charges as parts pinged around the room and a small section of the roof caved in.
“Sorry,” Malia said when everything settled. “I should have considered the leg giving way.”
“Don’t worry.” Wesley grinned. “In a few months, you’ll be a pro,”
Malia chuckled and waved him off to go loot the bodies.
“Hey, look at this,” Wesley said, pointing out a set of Pipe Mantis lying half-crushed in the rubble. “Bonus kills.”
“I’ll finish them off; you loot the twins,” Malia dusted off her hands and started to circle the room, killing any of the mantis that were still twitching.
////////////////////
Four rooms, five corridors, and enough rust to fill a swimming pool later, Wesley and Malia discovered the first safe room and the end of the first floor. Despite the familiar chalk writing over the doorway, Wes had more than a few notes about the supposedly safe room.
For a start, the fountain was spewing something that looked like bloody mud. The idea of drinking it was tantamount to suicidal thoughts, and that was the best thing in the room. A rusted-out pair of chairs sat before a table covered in peeling and chipped enamel, while the bunks were merely a collection of sharp points jutting randomly out of the mattresses. They might once have been bunk beds, but there was no real way to tell.
“Hands up everyone who wants to keep going?” Wesley asked, raising his own hand immediately.
“No chance,” Malia laughed. “We are going to, very carefully, sit here and rest while the dungeon has a chance to put a few repairs in order on the next floor.”
“Do you think we freed enough of the essence to make a difference?” Wesley asked as he carefully examined a section of wall to lean against.
“Some, certainly,” Malia announced, sitting in the middle of the floor and looking at him expectantly. “Are you planning to sit down at any point?”
“I’m considering it,” Wesley admitted.
“Sit down, for fuck’s sake,” Malia sighed heavily. “We need to talk.”
“Shit,” Wesley slumped against the wall. “We breaking up already?”
“What?” Malia frowned. “No, why?”
“Every time someone says we need to talk, it is to say get out,” Wesley said with a weak grin.
“If everyone keeps telling you to get out, the problem is probably you,” Malia said plainly, “But that isn’t what I meant. I was going to say that we seem to be working pretty well together.”
“Yeah, I think so too,” Wesley grinned.
“So, I think I deserve to know why we are in this rusted-out hulk of a dungeon, don’t you?” Malia asked.
As far as difficult discussions go, telling your teammate that you wanted to come into the dungeon so bad because of a feeling that might be connected to a memory that was probably given to him by a Dream Wisp in a clearing next to a cornfield has got to rank up there.
Maybe not ‘Honey, the babysitter is pregnant with my kid’ difficult, but certainly around the ‘Remember how you used to have fish when you left for your holiday’ level of awkward. Still, he pressed on.
From the expression on Malia’s face, it was not going down well.
“So, let me get this right,” Malia said sourly. “You think that there is some half-remembered STOLEN bit of information rattling around in that head of yours that relates to having all of the different upgrade materials. You don’t know ‘if it’s important or not’ but it was telling you to find out, so here we are?”
“That pretty much sums it up,” Wesley said with a slight flush. “I mean, it sounds bad when you say it, but yes.”
“It sounds batshit crazy,” Malia laughed slightly manically.
“Agreed,” Wesley replied earnestly, “But that doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”
“Fine,” Malia nodded. “But, and I want to be clear about this if you are wrong. If it turns out to be nothing, and we get nothing out of being in this VERY DANGEROUS dungeon… I’m kicking your ass. Everyday. For a week.”
“Agreed,” Wesley laughed.
“Not joking,” Malia warned.
“I’m aware.” Wesley smiled back.
“Then why are you looking so happy?” Malia asked, getting to her feet.
Wesley just shrugged. There was no way to explain how he felt just then. Not in any way that made sense, at least to anyone else. The simple fact that she was talking about kicking his ass instead of saying they were through or something similar put her about twenty notches above most of the people he had met since coming to this world.
“Wait?” Malia asked. “Do you get off on me kicking your ass? Eww!”
“No!” Wesley protested. “No way.”
“I think you do, and it’s kind of creepy,” Malia said. “Eww!”
“I do not get off on getting beaten up, don’t be gross!” Wesley protested as they headed down the ramp and onto the second floor.
“I mean, I don’t want to shame your preferences, but, eww,” Malia teased.
“Would you stop?” Wesley begged. “Please?”
The improvements on the second floor were subtle, but they were definitely there. For a start, the corridor had an actual wall at the end. For another, those Pipe Mantis were a lot more sprightly.
“How many of these things are there?” Wesley grouched as they killed the fifteenth to launch itself at them in the short corridor.
“I did say it was probably configured for a large group,” Malia replied. “Come on, another encounter room ahead.”
Wesley followed her into the room, seeing a carbon copy of the mechanical beaver from the first room. Everything seemed to be the same, except that it actually seemed to be working a little.
They engaged the mechanical beaver, keeping clear of the treacherous center grating, and began to tear it apart systematically. Despite being in working condition, the creature was horrifically slow, giving plenty of opportunities for them to dodge and block the clumsy blows.
It fell in less than five minutes, and they gathered the loot and moved on.
The entire floor went the same way. There were more Mantis than on floor one and mechanical beavers that were operative but way too slow actually to be a threat to either of them. Wes even took the opportunity to get in some melee practice, with Malia calling out instructions as the rusty teeth and claws chased him from spot to spot.
“Not bad,” Malia clapped as the last beaver fell.
“Thanks,” Wesley grinned. “What I don’t get is, why all the beavers?”
“Does it matter?” Malia laughed. “They are all mechanicals.”
“I know,” Wesley said as he collected their loot. “But the theme escapes me. If they are mechanical beavers, then why are they in an industrial building?”
“It’s a dungeon,” Malia shook her head, “There is no need for it to make sense.”
“Not buying that,” Wesley insisted. “I mean, they aren’t randomly generated, are they?”
“How the fuck would I know?” Malia rolled her eyes, “Come on, let’s keep moving.”
The second safe room was in much better condition than the first. Water that looked almost clear ran from the fountain, and one of the bunk beds looked almost usable.
Wesley gave it a kick, and it remained standing, which seemed like a massive improvement.
“What are you doing?” Malia asked as he settled down against the wall to rest.
“Resting?” Wesley asked.
“No time,” Malia replied. “The dungeon is set for about seven people, I would guess, and it is repairing a lot faster than I expected.”
“Ah, shit,” Wesley winced. “We need to get to the end before it’s repaired enough to kill us, right?”
“Well, no,” Malia admitted. “We should get an exit portal before too much longer. But, if we get through to the end before the place has healed completely and kill the final boss, we will definitely get something good.”
“Speed run?” Wesley asked. So far he and Malia had not relied on his sims at all, pretty much just leaving them to follow along behind. That wasn’t the best use of them, but he had been hesitant to un-summon them when they might be needed later. As things stood, Wes could only call them once a day.
However, if he started to actually order them into combat, things would change quickly. Each one carried a less powerful version of each of his spells and abilities, and while each one only carried one or two charges in the spells, it was still a massive force multiplier.
“What the hell is that?” Malia asked.
“We go for it, full speed, maximum effort.” Wesley clarified.
“Agreed,” Malia said.
//////////////////////
The third floor was already showing further signs of improvement, the enemies moving significantly faster, and the walls showing the first signs of bright paint and fresh, clean metal.
Practice in the earlier two floors paid off, as did all the ‘training’ Malia had given Wes. The two of them moved forward, the sims providing covering fire as they tore up the hallway and the first two encounters.
From then on, they encountered ever-increasing numbers, with smaller beavers flanking the previous floors’ encounter bosses, which were significantly more mobile now.
Wes put the versatility of his rifle and bayonet to the test, blocking with the butt and stock before stabbing with the knife and firing as often as a good shot presented itself.
Speed meant more risk, of course, and Wes was forced to heal a couple of pretty serious injuries as they plowed through the rooms for each of them.
By the time they cleared the final encounter of the floor, it was clear that they had been pushing themselves a little faster than was wise.
Both of them were breathing hard, sweating, and covered in more blood than was probably healthy.
But they were both smiling.
“Keep going?” Malia asked.
“Keep going,” Wesley confirmed. “But a little slower while I wait for the healing charges to rebuild.”
They breezed through the safe room, Wesley only taking a second to notice that the water didn’t look any better than the previous floor, and trotted down the ramp to the fourth and hopefully final floor.
Wesley slid to a stop at the foot of the ramp just in time to prevent running into Malia, who had also stopped short of entering the fourth-floor corridor.
Only, it wasn’t a corridor this time.
It was a portal room.
“Weird,” Wesley said. “Aren’t these normally right before a safe room?”
“Not always,” Malia replied tensely. “Sometimes there is one just before the final boss.”
“And why are we not going into the room?” Wes asked carefully.
“Because if we do, we have to enter the portal or the boss room within five minutes,” Malia said in that long-suffering teacher way he was starting to hate.
“Think we should leave?” Wesley asked. “We got plenty of repair mats.”
“No, I want that final reward,” Malia said, chewing her lip. “I just don’t know if we should rest for the healing charges or go in before it can be repaired much more.”
“We still have a charge of Lesser Regenerate I can use on each of us,” Wesley replied. “And I will have a charge of Emergency Heal in about ten minutes. How about we wait five, then head in?”
“Agreed,” Malia sighed and took a few deep breaths. “I can’t believe how much the Sims have helped us out.”
“Handy little buggers, aren’t they?” Wesley smiled at his two wispy squad mates. Sara waved back, which was slightly creepy. He was sure she hadn’t done that before.
“You always look sad when you look at her,” Malia nodded to the Sara simulacrum. “Were you and the real her together?”
“Naah,” Wesley smiled sadly. “She was just in my squad, you know?”
“Not a bad way to be remembered,” Malia said thoughtfully.
“I hope so,” Wesley sighed.
“Come on,” Malia changed the subject quickly. “Let’s go see what the boss is like.”
Wesley nodded and followed her off the ramp past the portal arch and into a large, open dome. At the far end of where they entered, the boss waited.
“Now that’s one massive beaver!” Wesley chuckled.
“I can not actually believe you just said that,” Malia visibly cringed. “How old are you?”
“Literally the only chance I will ever have to say it,” Wesley grinned. “It had to be done!”
The boss's teeth were like a pair of swords as wide as doors, gleaming sharply as they slashed down at Malia, who rolled forward, her shield and sword disappearing as she moved.
Wesley shifted into wisp form, kicking off and shooting sideways to reposition. He really needed to get a line on the eyes, but every time he had one, the damn thing moved.
The giant teeth slammed down, sliding into the floor and blocking his line of sight to Malia. That second of being stuck was all he needed, and Wesley snapped off the shot he had been trying to make for the last five minutes. The Armor Piercing Round landed just to the left of the eye, but the damage was what he was trying for anyway. The improved damage activated against the thick metal plating, and the entire side of the head blew out, twisting the head to one side and causing the giant teeth to jam in the floor.
“Double tap!” Wesley yelled, and his sims fired their own shots into the other eye, blowing it out at the same moment a hollow clang sounded.
Wesley looked over as he heard Malia shout, ‘Valiant Charge!’ before she tore clean through the two front teeth, shearing them off as she spun to a stop. Her own two-handed sword looked twisted and ruined.
“Covering Fire!” Wesley stalked forward, firing as fast as he could. The two sims copied him as all three unleashed every remaining attack in brilliant succession.
Malia winced as the echoes built and built but switched to her Warhammer and launched another charge into the battered and broken boss.
It screeched and rolled back, the massive tail sweeping the floor and forcing Malia back before it rolled onto its back and began to seize.
Malia ran up the tail and leaped into the air, spinning in a merciless somersault before she uncurled at the apex, her whole body bringing the Warhammer around in a powerful strike. In the split second before it hit, Wesley saw the flash of Valiant Charge activating.
The room echoed with a sound like someone striking a gong in the middle of a train crash. Wesley reflexively activated Were-wisp as a wave of dust and debris flowed out from the strike.
When it passed, Wesley saw Malia on one knee, both hands gripping the hammer in the center of a massive crater where the beaver’s head used to be.
“Wow!” Wesley broke into applause. “Just fucking wow!”
“How’s that healing cooldown?” Malia asked.
“We’re good,” Wesley headed over, gliding over to the crater. “Two charges of Emergency Heal, three of Lesser Regenerate.”
“Good,” Malia said through gritted teeth, “I just broke both my fucking arms.”
Wesley set to work immediately, using the added control of wisp form to push the heals into each arm, right down to the bone. With the boss dead, Wesley felt no need to hold back, shoving both the heals and two regens into Malia in quick order. The last he saved for any unexpected last-second surprises.
“Ooh, that feels good,” Malia sighed, her body relaxing as the arms returned to a more normal shape. “Thanks.”
“Hold still another minute or two,” Wesley cautioned. “Let the healing settle before you try and move.”
“Sure,” Malia said, leaning her head on his shoulder. “I think I’m going to sleep for a week after this dungeon.”
“Fingers crossed it’s worth it,” Wesley chuckled. “Otherwise, you’ll have to interrupt that sleep for my daily thrashing.”
She laughed and pushed herself back upright. “Let’s go find out.”
Mechano-Sword of the Industrious (Tier 7)
Two-handed sword
Interior gearing allows the sword to expand to four times its original width upon demand.
Interior gearing allows the sword to be extended up to twice the original length.
Note: Can not extend and expand at the same time.
Requires: Tier 7 or higher.
“What do you think?” Wesley asked as he handed the loot to Malia.
“I think,” She twisted the handle on the greatsword, and the blade expanded to be as wide as a shield, then twisted the other way, and it became thinner but twice as long, “That I love it!”
“I'm glad to hear it,” Wesley said with a grin. “We also hit the motherlode on repair materials: almost twenty energy crystals, bunches of gears, and wheels as well.”
“Huh,” Malia frowned. “I was sure we would get an extra reward for the full clear.”
“Never mind,” Wesley shrugged. “We got what we came for.”
A small flash near the exit caught their attention and Wesley went over and checked it out.
“Hey, Malia,” Wesley chuckled. “I think the dungeon heard you.”
“What?” Malia trotted over. “Don’t be silly.”
Wesley turned and showed her what he had found.
Mechano Bayonet of the Grateful (Tier 7)
Mechanical Bayonet
Improved cutting edge.
Internal gearing allows the bayonet to extend to twice its original length.
“Me nothing,” Malia clapped him on the shoulder. “I was complaining; you were the grateful one.”
“Well, thanks, dungeon. I’ll take good care of it.” Wesley shouted.
“Okay, time to go,” Malia pushed him toward the exit portal that had been revealed when the boss died. “You know it can’t understand you, right?”
“Then how did it know I was grateful?” Wesley insisted as she pushed him through the portal.
“Fuck knows,” Malia muttered. “Everything has gone nuts since I met you.”