Sherry

Liggit Mine, Treyul Rock

He wasn't kidding about the long walk. The long, extremely boring walk.

I'm almost missing his company, is how bad it got. But I'm here, and from the looks of it, peering over the edge of the excavated basin, I'm not the only one here.

I count about a dozen dudes and dudettes who look like crack dealers - not the friendly kind - standing around, shooting the shit and wrestling with each other, not a single one has anything better than the starter set I was explicitly told not to bother with - which to hear Tour Guide talk is worse than the nada that I have, bow excluded.

Interestingly, none of them seem interested in doing any mining or going into the mineshaft, in fact from the way they keep looking up, I'd say they're waiting for someone or something to show up. Me, maybe?

Fortunately, their Perception is dogshit, so they've yet to notice I'm here, but their voices don't carry well at this height, so piecing together what they're talking about is difficult without some pretty high Perception of my own - which is pretty good thanks to my racial bonus to my senses and reflexes.

Still, after sitting around up here for a while, observing them and their movements while my Stamina ticks up excruciatingly slowly, I think I can sort of get what's going on here.

Bottom line, no, they're not here for me specifically. Rather, they're here to occupy the Copper nodes and ensure that nobody can mine any to bring back to Stone Arsenal because one of the members of their idiot brigade failed to extort gear out of Tour Guide and got jailed for their idiocy. Tour Guide doesn't strike me as the kind of guy to really...care? About much of anything really - other than that dumbass dream of his. So I don't see that idea ever working.

Which leaves me with a problem, of course. Since I have a job to do, and I really don't want to have to walk alllll the way fucking back to Meteo City to get backup from Tour Guide, then walk aaaaaall the way fucking back here. And then, for a final trick, all the way fu-hu-hucking back to Meteo City with the haul.

Yeah, just...no. Nuh uh. Not fucking happening.

Fortunately, I'm pretty sure that I can clean these idiots out, since they're, well, idiots. They've not put any lookouts around the perimeter of the mine or on the rim of the mine's top layer, instead having all their member stand around at the bottom. With no cover or armour.

Against me.

I'm just gonna quote my dad quoting an old movie: "It's over, I have the high ground!".

First rule of a gank, though, is to prioritise problematic targets. I'm counting two Hedge Mages - who have made identifying them super easy by flashbanging each other with spells for shits and giggles, and one guy with a starter bow that honestly looks like they'd rather just beat something to death with it instead of using it as a projectile weapon.

I have an extreme urge to try and go for a double shot to eliminate both mages first, but I'm definitely not good enough to pull off a stunt like that - I can trickshot for days with guns just fine though. Level 20 cannot come soon enough. On the other hand, I can definitely fire a second arrow quickly enough in the time it takes for them to realise they're under attack to take out the second, though a third easy shot may be pushing it, even as fabulously incompetent as they are.

Thinking about it though, the bow guy will probably be slow to fire and lacking the confidence to move from a stationary position while aiming and firing. I'm not sure what the limitations for casters are in that regard, if any.

As for the rest, I can just shoot them at my leisure as they try to scale the circular path upward in a predictable fashion.

Smirking, I pull two arrows from my quiver, then nock, half-draw and aim at the neck of the first mage. Taking a moment to get into the zone, I steadily pull the bowstring back, adjust my aim slightly, then release. The arrow isn't even at it's target before I knock the second, draw, aim and fire as the previous arrow pierces cleanly into the woman's neck and partially out the other side. Within seconds, both mages collapse, thoroughly dead.

 

You have killed Godly Magister.

Godly Magister is Infamous.

Awarding 105 Experience.

You have killed Bloody Ball.

Bloody Ball is Infamous.

Awarding 60 Experience.

 

Oooh. I dunno what the shit Infamous means but these guys are worth XP. Hell yeah!

Quickly, I refocus on the task at hand. Just as predicted, the archer is slower than molasses and none of them have figured out where I'm sniping them from yet. The third arrow sticking out of their archer's chest though, seems to get their brain juices nice and juicy, the remaining mob of melee chucklefucks yelling an uninspired array of insults at me as they begin their slow ascent out of the barrel they've put themselves in.

I won't claim that in the slaughter that followed I actually hit every arrow I fired, but an accuracy of nine hits of the thirteen fired is still pretty good and I'll fight anyone who disagrees with me.

As I start to get up and put away my bow, however, my ears twitch at the sound of a footstep entirely too close for comfort. On instinct, I try to roll out of the way, but the motherfucking controls respond a half-second late and a dagger slices my arm open due to a barely evaded thrust at where my heart should have been.

-40

Rather than take a look at who's trying to counter-gank my ass, I roll another time and launch myself into a run, nocking an arrow as I move and drawing it as I rapidly twist around and blindly-fire at the sound of approaching footsteps, hitting a scruffy young guy with shaggy black hair in the forearm, blocking the killing shot to his face.

He staggers back from the pain as I reload, "Bitch!"

Roaring, he lobs his knife with surprising speed at my own face, narrowly missing and clipping one of my ears as I duck and fire, hitting him in the stomach with a second arrow. The assassin chokes and keels over, clutching at the shaft making a nice snug home in his guts.

 

You have killed Irikis Falk.

Irikis Falk is Infamous.

Awarding 602 Experience.

 

Still on high alert for a second ambush, I strain my senses for additional threats, another arrow readied. When nothing happens, I relax, falling back on to my ass and putting my arrow back in it's quiver.

"Woo. That got the blood pumpin'," I mutter, disbelieving.

I wasn't expecting to run into a half-decent assassin alongside the other idiots, and I'm not entirely clear on how he managed to get so close before I detected him either. Gonna need to bug Tour Guide to tell me where the class trainer for Scouts is at when I get back.

Touching my wounded ear, I wince, feeling the raw pain where the knife split it apart at one edge. Hopefully, it's not a permanent thing and it'll heal up naturally, because if that asshole managed to scar me I swear to fucking hell that I will turn him into my own personal target dummy.

Ugh. I need to get down there and get mining quickly, before the bozos I sniped get back. Doubt it'll work out so well a second time when I'm not the one with a vantage point advantage.

Not giving myself time to properly catch my breath, I pick myself off the floor and my pickaxe out of my back, then run around the perimeter to the winding dirt ramp downwards, eyes peeled for nodes.

---

 

Stone Arsenal's Back Entrance, Meteo City

Knock Knock Knock. Knock Knock.

Three times, two times. That should be the right sequence right?

A clomping set of footsteps precedes the rough unlocking and opening of the door, the blacksmith NPC who owns this building stands rather imposingly in the way, staring way down at me. Saying absolutely nothing she nods then ushers me inside, the storefront packed with desperate looking people arguing over who gets to buy what looks like a shield made out of bronze.

The door shuts behind me and gets locked. Before I ask anything, the NPC cuts me off with an answer, "Silver is upstairs momentarily."

Right, his name's Silver in here, isn't it?

My ears flick at the sound of someone descending the staircase - a weirdly smug-looking Silver carrying a pair of shields he places on the counter before noticing I even fucking exist.

"Oh, you're back earlier than I expected..?" His gaze is questioning, focusing on my wounded ear, "Looks like you maybe didn't believe me about the mineshaft."

I scowl, "No, I heard you loud and clear on that, thanks. Some shitstain assassin ambushed me when I finished cleaning out some goons occupying the basin."

He gives me a strange look, "Elaborate?"

I roll my eyes, "Some gang of morons is camping out the mine to stop people supplying Copper to Stone Arsenal and your little project here. I killed them all because I'm awesome, then some asshole managed to sneak up on me when I was about to swap to my pickaxe and almost got a clean backstab. Then I killed him, since, once a-fuckin-gain, I'm just awesome."

Tour Guide thinks it over, "Suppose I shouldn't be surprised people are trying to obstruct me. The assassin though, what was his name?"

"Icky Fuck," I can't really remember or pronounce it very well, so close enough I guess.

He frowns deeply, brows knitting in displeasure, "Irikis Falk?"

I nod, "That's it. Y'know him?"

He nods, "Cocky little shit that I thought I made my opinion of very clear the last time we cross paths. I believe he was either waiting for me to show up or looking to get revenge by proxy."

Silver grips the hilt of his sword, radiating an uncharacteristic aura of malice, "Sounds like I need to teach him another lesson, since the first doesn't appear to have sunk in."

I gulp. Hoo boy, I don't know what that asshole did to get under his skin, but this is the most ticked off I've seen him so far, and I've been actively trying to get an emotional response out of this rock-faced cunt.

He exhales, relaxing his grip and folding his arms, "Nice work though. He's probably one of the most skilled players in the region, and you're at a severe disadvantage against his archetype to boot."

I grin, unable to stop the sense of pride from his praise, "I'm awesome. I mentioned this, yeah?"

"So you did," He returns to his stony-faced default.

"Besiiides, I have to put up with like, a shit load of sneaky bastards like him all the time in VA. They always go for the backline, like it ain't a fucking obvious plan to anyone who's played past the fucking tutorial."

He shrugs, "It's habit-forming because it works and makes objective sense. Unfortunately, such habits kneecap situational awareness and adaptability."

I roll my eyes, "I mean, yeah? Preaching to the choir, man."

Tour Guide clears his throat, "Sorry."

I flick my head toward the store, "How's business going?"

"Booming. But nearing the end of its tether, so tomorrow is the big one, then it's up to Henna to handle things from there on her own terms while I look into getting a team together for Miner's Nightmare and do some work on a Quest I've been putting off," He drops his arms, picks up one of the shields then puts it on the now emptied display before returning, "Setting aside you and me as damage dealers as well as the Main Tank role for when Winfrey returns, I need to track down a talented Hedge Mage looking to specialise as a Healer-type to round us out. Another damage dealer or an offtank wouldn't be too bad either but not required."

"So you're not even gonna ask if I'm going in with you or not?" I raise a brow, hands on hips because....because. I dunno man, I just do it.

He looks back nonplussed, "No. You're going to do it anyway, why pretend?"

I badly want to object and be contrarian to prove him wrong, but he's right. It's a good opportunity to get ahead of the pack, and you betcher ass Winfrey's gonna be all over this like it's a bottle of tequila after a project deadline. Gotta support my girl.

"Fuck you," I admit defeat, "Just give me the tin already."

"Sure," Tour Guide doesn't even bat an eyelash.