Azure: Gunner

Back to the point, you’ll occasionally run into a Quest with an explicit timer. We call those ‘events’. Don’t fucking lose your head when you see a countdown, OK? If the event is part of an optional objective, there’s another, more accurate term: trap.

The System can be diabolically clever about certain things. One of them is the fact that when you put a timer on anything, people magically turn into Wasted idiots. Just because a Quest tells you you’ll get a reward for it doesn’t mean you should attempt to kill a hundred goblins in five minutes.

Rookies somehow manage to read this and only understand a few words: reward, kill goblins, five minutes. The small detail ‘a fucking hundred’ manages to float right through their empty heads.

Of course, if the event is part of the dungeon’s main Quest, you’ve got exactly two options: run for the wedge portal, or hurry the fuck up and try not to die.

- Delver’s Guild Handbook, Section 11.2 – “Events”

It wasn’t quite over when the abomination went down. We still had to deal with the swarms of undead spiders released by the gigantic, disgusting monsters first. The little fuckers died easily, but they were fast, agile, and poisonous. H’ruk was bitten several times as he clambered back over the wall, and the big orc went down in pain almost immediately.

I smashed a leaping spider aside with the flat of my cutlass, then stomped another, as I ran to help my friend. It took a moment to locate the antidote potion in my medkit, then I shoved it into H’ruk’s massive hands and started looking for more disgusting rachs to smash. My search was interrupted seconds later.

<Would… you… fucking… heal… me… already!> Tara grunted out, and I looked to G’hala and nodded, then braced myself.

“Balance,” the Shaman said calmly, and I hissed as pain flared through my left arm. I flexed it experimentally, grateful that nothing was broken. I noticed a few new aches and pains scattered across my body, though nothing as severe as the arm. I looked around expectantly, slowly reloading my gun as my bandolier refilled, my mana ticking steadily down to almost nothing.

It was Zaire who figured out the problem.

<Gunner Az, I believe there are still some active undead hidden under the corpses,> he stated, pointing.

When I walked over to look, I saw a clawed foot scrambling futilely in the dirt, the owner pinned beneath a larger skeletal ghoul’s corpse. I raised my gun, then realized that wasn’t going to be an effective solution to the problem. I also had no desire to climb down there and start chopping away at random bodies, not to mention the spiders potentially hiding among the corpses.

<Fire Wall,> H’ruk suggested, and that was a much better idea. Too bad I was out of mana. I started to ask Raylan if he’d ever gotten Fire figured out, but Zaire stopped me.

<I can cast them, Gunner Az,> he informed me, and I narrowed my eyes at him. How was he not out of mana too? His Spells were Wasted expensive to cast!

<You used a mana potion, didn’t you?> I accused, and he nodded calmly.

<I nearly ran out against the reavers,> he explained, <and I suffered no ill effects.>

I grunted, remembering all the warnings we’d received along with our potions, but there was nothing I could do. H’ruk went around the perimeter of the wall, poking his staff down into the bodies. His Infusion ignited small flames wherever he struck, and Zaire followed him. The Earth Mage smoothly ignited wall after wall, casting Fire nearly as fast as I could.

He could sustain multiple walls at a time, though he needed two Spells to reach the length of one of the fort’s walls. At eight mana per Spell, he was only able to cover three sides of the fort. I handed my wand to G’hala, who needed several attempts to successfully cast Fire, but eventually the job was done. We were surrounded by an unspeakable stench of burning undead flesh for several long minutes before the largest wave of Essence I’d ever felt slammed into me.

I actually staggered from the intensity of it, looking around with wide eyes as my Squad cheered. PAST’s voice boomed out into my head, but for once not at the volume I was hoping for.

[Congratulations Gunner! You have advanced Speed Loading, Identify, and Tactical Reposition by one Level each! You have also earned enough Essence for an item! Truly, a fantastic battle!]

“Shit, all of that and I didn’t Level?!” I could guess from my teammate’s expression that some of them had.

[Was I unclear, Citizen?! IF YOU HAD LEVELED, I WOULD HAVE SAID SO!]

“Fuck off, PAST!” I growled in my head, then focused on a new notification that had appeared in front of me.

(Quest Update: Take your rewards! Each chest will attune to the one who opens it!)

I watched in awe as four large chests materialized in the center of the fort, forming a small square. Then my heart sank as I did the math.

“Well, fuck,” Raylan said, summing up my thoughts perfectly.

“Customized rewards,” breathed Tara, and the phrase triggered my memory of Trick Step’s lecture on them. Whoever opened each chest would receive rewards tailored to their Class. But with only four chests, half of us would be left out. I let out a slow breath as I found seven pairs of eyes looking at me expectantly.

Shit, this might be almost as hard as the battle! Think, Waste it!

I needed several moments to work out a plan.

“Two gun-users,” I said, pointing at Arlo and then myself. “Two Mages, two pure melee fighters, two hybrid Classes,” I indicated the orcs last. Technically H’ruk didn’t have a hybrid Class – yet – but he fought like he did.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

“Each pair plays rock-paper-sword-snake-bird, best two out of three opens the chest.”

I said it confidently, and silently rejoiced as everyone nodded as if my idea was perfectly reasonable. Which it clearly was, because I’d proposed it.

[Congratulations Gunner, you have increased your Skill in Leadership!]

I flipped PAST a mental bird, then walked over to Arlo. The Pistoleer looked at me and smiled.

“No need to play, Az, you should open the chest,” he said easily, and my jaw dropped. “I’ll need to do some shopping soon, but I can afford new gear. You take it.”

I definitely didn’t jump on the Pistoleer to give him a huge hug. I’m sure no one noticed what didn’t happen, because they were all intently battling for their own chance at a chest. I waited for the games to conclude, and in the end G’hala, Jayce, and Raylan were the winners. Picking a chest at random and obviously not because it was the closest one to me, I knelt down and placed my hand on it.

There was a shimmer, similar to attuning a mod, and the chest clicked open. I gently opened the lid, holding my breath in anticipation. Inside the chest I found a pair of shimmering omni-mods, and… what? Is that the butt of a gun?!

Ignoring the mods, I grabbed the wooden grip and pulled, surprised at the amount of resistance. The heavy object – clearly a gun – slowly emerged from a chest that should have been far too shallow to contain it. It had to weigh at least three times more than my shotgun. Unlike the simple matte-black finish on my shotgun, this monster was far more ornate. It had a rich, dark wood stock and shining steel barrel and fittings. Inspect.