Paragon of Weaponmasters

Peter and I move back into the tunnels, on the hunt for sand dragons.

"So what's going to change now that Woghuglat is dead?" I ask.

"Well, him, the first brother, and the captain of the guard are all bosses in the final dungeon of this expansion. So it's probably going to end up like L.M.M. and have characters missing." he tells me.

"But when we ran the mad mage labyrinth, none of the bosses were missing, only O.G. Mournthing." I point out.

"We'll just have to see. Hopefully it doesn't completely bug out and prevent us from continuing." he shrugs.

"That's a possibility?" I ask, worried.

"It's never happened before, but saying that around you is begging for something impossible to happen." he rolls his eyes.

We happen upon another lone sand dragon. Now that I know Thunder God disables them, I open with that as Peter and I flank it. It's a simple matter of killing it before it manages to free itself.

"No fulgurite this time." I announce, looting the corpse.

"It is an epic gem so the drop rate might be really low." he responds.

"I hope it's worth enough to pay for a whole month." I say.

He chuckles, nodding in agreement.

"Wouldn't that be nice. Heck, if it's as rare as I think it is it might go for more." he comments.

"I have so many inappropriate reactions to that and I can't say because you're under age." I sigh.

He cackles, with both of his hands on his knees. I have to stop to let him catch up, almost catching the contagious laughter myself.

"Gross!" he finally says after taking a deep breath.

We find another dragon, rinse and repeat.

[Fulgurite Tube] added to inventory.

"Fuck Yeah!" I celebrate.

"You're gonna be rich." Peter tells me.

"Do you want this one?" I ask.

"No dude, if you weren't electrocuting the shit out of them the tubes wouldn't be dropping. They're all yours." he insists.

"Alright." I keep the two tubes.

Down another tunnel, and down goes another dragon. No tube.

"Where are the orcs?" I ask. "Did big daddy only send nine?"

"Don't call him that." Peter tells me. "I don't know. Maybe killing Woghuglat scared them off or bugged it out."

I grunt. Another bug caused by yours truly.

I watch my experience bar sitting at ninety eight percent while we fight another dragon, almost dying from not paying attention.

You have reached level 65!

Strength increased by 128%!

Agility increased by 128%!

Intelligence increased by 128%!

Peter has reached Level 65!

"Sweet. Now what?" I wonder.

"Now we do the ancient sand dragon dungeon." He answers.

I groan. That means we have to find a group.

"It'll be fine." Peter reassures me. "Let's get to the entrance, maybe there's a few players already there waiting."

He guides me down specific tunnels, clearing following a map from memory. When we come to a stop, there's a portal arch sitting at the edge of a cliff overlooking a truly gigantic space, half filled with treasure and half with a sand dragon. It sleeps peacefully curled up on its hoard, each breath like a tornado billowing up and out of the tunnel. If the red dragon we fought was a 3-story house, this thing is a city block.

"Woah." is all I manage to say.

"You ain't seen nothing yet." Peter tells me with a smirk.

Just as he predicted, a few players are waiting at the arch. Peter walks over to chat with them, while I continue to ogle the serpent.

Jerry has joined your party.

Benwah has joined your party.

Bengey has joined your party.

Benwah says: Yo!

Bengey says: Yo!

Earl says: Lol, yo!

With all five positions filled, we enter the arch. The loading screen is… disturbing. It reminds me of the inside of the dragon we were eaten by earlier. My vision returns, it seems we've simply moved down from the cliff overlooking the massive dragon.

Xindrog, the Living Oasis. Level ??

"Uh…" I cough.

"Wait for it." Peter grins.

One of the Bens takes a step forward, and the dragon's eye snaps open. Before any of us can attack, the dragon slithers down into the massive pile of gold. Like a shark's fin, a wave of gold moves around the room where it's travelling. It suddenly comes right for us, too fast to avoid. The heart wyrm emerges, mouth wide open.

"Man, not again!" I complain as I'm eaten by a dragon for the second time today.

The inside of the ancient dragon is much more roomy. It doesn't swallow us immediately, instead we're all in its huge mouth, like pinocchio in the whale. Peter retrieves his torch, and I follow suit. With our combined light, I can make out the thin snake-like tongue splitting the floor.

"Gross dude." I complain.

"Let's get going." Peter tells me. We cross a threshold, I hesitate to call it a sphincter. Not because it's the wrong term, but because I don't like it.

The halls narrow as we enter the throat. It's very damp and pink flesh colored in every direction, it's difficult to maintain my footing. The first opponent we encounter is a severely lost looking orc. He's tough enough to temporarily withstand a full on assault from four group members, but the fight is nothing special.

As we pass from the throat to the stomach, the smell grows exponentially worse. Rotting meat overwhelms my senses and makes my eyes water.

"Yuck." I say, immediately regretting opening my mouth. I pull my old cloak from my inventory and wrap it around my face like a scarf.

Instead of a series of fights, the stomach seems to be a jumping puzzle. Random chunks of god-knows-what float alongside the bloated corpses of orcs in bright yellow stomach acid. There's even a smaller dragon in there, half dissolved. With full agility gear, Peter easily jumps from platform to platform, clearing the pool of acid. He waits on the other side, while the other groupies and I carefully hop from corpse to corpse. Nearly there, a body shifts just as my foot touches it, sending me splashing into the acid.

My entire body feels like it's on fire, my health starts dropping too quickly to have any hope of making it to shore. The healer, ever helpful, restores my health as my flesh melts away. Honestly, I wish he'd just let me die. When my desperate flailing finally finds a helping hand, I'm hauled to shore by Peter and one of the Bens. I couldn't say which, because I'm currently blind. The healing restores the tips of my fingers, so I have the unique opportunity to feel my skull before the flesh grows back.

Truly, one of the top ten most horrifying experiences of my new life.

Even after upchucking a gut full of someone else's stomach acid, I manage not to scream. Maybe I'm in shock, it's hard to tell from the inside.

Eventually I let out the breath i had been holding, and gasp rapidly for air.

"Why's he being so dramatic?" the healer, Jerry, asks.

"Just give him a minute." Peter tells him, kneeling by my side. He rests a hand on my shoulder. "You good, buddy?"

"That sucked." I tell him.

"I bet. Let's go kick something's ass, that will make you feel better." he pats my back.

"Sure." I say, standing up.

Distant screaming becomes clearer as we progress to the small intestine. Inside, orcs fail to fight off… little white dots?

"Gonna want to spam your A.O.E. spells." Peter informs me.

He doesn't have to tell me twice, I drop a pair of Tornado Edges and a Wall of Swords. When the orcs finally lose their fight, the little white dots swarm towards us, mostly getting blended up in my spells. A few make it through, and give me a clear picture of what we're up against.

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White Blood Cell Swarm. Level 66

I cast Thunder God, and use my multi-target spells to wipe out the remaining cells before they reach us. They're probably a lot more trouble when one of your party members isn't loaded to the gills with area of effect spells.

"Boss time." Peter announces.

"What've we got?" I ask while we keep moving.

"It's a little Gollum creature. Fast, and unpredictable from seventy five percent to fifty and twenty five percent to zero, timid and defensive any other time." He explains.

"I'll do my best." I guarantee.

We enter the large intestines, finding a hunched monster leaning over the corpse of a picked-over orc. It mumbles something to itself that I can't make out.

I stop dead before aggroing it.

"I just realized something." I say.

"What?" Peter and the others stop.

"I could have used Exchange to skip the stomach acid section entirely." I tell them.

Apaki snickers in my head.

I will drop you in acid until you melt to slag. I think at it. That shuts it up.

Peter sucks in air through his teeth. I sigh.

"Too late now. Let's deal with the gremlin." I use taunt to engage it.

Wyrmtongue, Lost Halfling. Level 67

"Mine!" it screeches at me, throwing a bone shard in my direction.

"Ouch." I complain, jogging towards it. Instead of waiting like a sitting duck, it runs from me, throwing garbage at me the whole way. "Hey, get back here!"

It keeps its distance, screeching in response.

"Stop moving" Bengey tells me. I do, and so does the boss.

The other damage-dealing party members catch up with it, and slowly bring down its health. I use my ranged spells to keep its attention. Realistically, I could always stand at a distance, but it just feels wrong. I'm the front-line tank, right?

At 75% health, its demeanor changes.

Instead of targeting me, it randomly jumps onto Benwah's back and starts clawing at him. His health goes into a freefall, the healer can barely keep up. I use intervention, but it's only good for one hit. The boss is going at his back like an enthusiastic masseuse. Unfortunately, there isn't much for me to contribute. I can damage it, and block a few hits, but Taunt has no effect.

Wall of Swords is pulling a lot of weight. With the boss clinging to him, Benwah uses it like a backscratcher, making the boss lose health rapidly. At 50%, the boss returns to its other state, chucking fish heads and rotten tomatoes my way while the damage dealers do their job. Back to crazy aggro at 25%, this time locking onto Peter. He uses the evasion spell, taking substantially less damage. When his ability runs out though, he almost bites the dust. A lucky Intervention and Distribute saves his bacon.

The little monster collapses to the floor, finally free of its own cursed existence. Look at the body, I notice the acid levels rising.

"Er…" I point at it.

"Yep, loot the body and run!" Peter tells me as his sprints past.

[That One Ring] added to inventory.

That One Ring - Epic ring - Requires level 65 - low intellect

"Lucky!" Peter shouts over his shoulder. I try to catch up, replacing my oldest ring while I run.

The acid is up to my knees when we reach to pool in the stomach, which has risen as well. Fewer corpses are present, making it an even tougher challenge to cross.

"Not this time motherfucker." I tell the world, as I launch Apaki over the lake.

It yelps, probably worried I intended to drop them in. Maybe I should.

The sword vibrates like a doorstop, stuck in the far wall of flesh. I use exchange with a smug smile. My face is stuck in the potion with my head lodged in the wall. I try to yell 'son of a bitch!' but obviously I can't.

Casting exchange again releases me, I gasp a lungful of air on my hands and knees. I just can't win today. From across the pond, Peter pulls my sword from the wall and places it on the ground. Third time's the charm, I exchange once more, and end up standing on the other side, safe and sound.

In the short time it took all of us to get across, the acid level rose half way up my thighs. I do not want it any higher.

"What now?" I ask Peter as we push through the flood.

"There's a wall with some veins on it. On the other side is the heart, we have to cut through and destroy it." He tells me.

Go take care of it.

It shall be done. Thozur flies away.

No please?

I mentally glare at Apaki. They follow Thozur.

The group arrives after them, the job is already half way done. The three damage dealers finish it, exposing a short hallway leading to the house-sized heart, beating in a steady rhythm that shakes the floor and drowns out all other sounds.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

"Do we just hit it?" I ask.

"Yup!" Peter responds, diving dagger-first into the right ventricle.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

Tornado Edge twice over chews on the base as the other damage dealers work their magic on the sides.

"Anything special?" I ask, just before the heart itself answers.

Ba-BUMP.

One of the veins peels off of the wall and douses me in hot blood. The pressure is so great it actually pushes me into the wall with crushing force. The healer keeps me alive until the pressure falls, dropping me to the floor, but allowing me to move again. When I get to my feet, white blood cells have swarmed into the chamber.

Ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum.

Circular Saws and a Wall of Swords dispatch them easily, allowing the healer to top everyone off, and the damagers to focus on the heart. It's starting to bleed from several large cuts.

A double wave of white blood cells enter, a pair of Wall of Swords does the trick. I'm glad everyone is too occupied to say something to jinx us.

Ba-ba. Ba-ba.

I use Thunder God, inflicting the heart with the thing that both keeps it running and can stop it instantly if misused: electricity.

BABABABABABABA!

It goes absolutely nuts, beating a mile-a-minute and shooting blood everywhere.

BABABABABABABUH…

With electricity arcing in every direction, the heart… stops.

Everyone in the room holds their breath, including Peter, which worries me. This isn't how this is supposed to go?

The heart starts up again, beating rapidly and healing!

"What the fuck?" Bengey asks, resuming the assault.

"Lag!" Jerry announces.

"Me too!" Benwah adds.

Peter doesn't bother stabbing. He just faces me, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Our group members stop moving all as one. They vanish, leaving behind gray nameplates.

"They got disconnected," Peter explains.

"What now?" I ask.

"Probably something I couldn't possibly anticipate." He gives me side-eye.

"Yeah yeah." I wave my hand dismissively.

Without warning, Peter and I are back outside, standing under the dragon's gaze in their hoard of gold.

"Listen and do not speak, we do not have much time." The dragon, Xindrog, tells us.

"What the hell?" I ask in the middle of his sentence.

"Chronomancy." Peter answers.

The dragon sighs. It's like opening the door during a sandstorm.

"Mortals. Our time is short." They reiterate.

"Well, spit it out." I tell them.

"That was rude." Peter comments.

"There's one thing in this world that scares me." I point at the towering dragon. "That's not it."

The dragon closes their eyes, I swear I can hear them counting to ten in a whisper.

"The Machine God cannot see us here. The true master has shown me how to evade its sight. Listen well. A time of great peril looms, the primordial dragon awaken to…"

"We know." Peter cuts them off.

"You… know?" they tip their head like a curious dog. It would be very cute if they weren't the size of a village.

"We know the Monitor can't see us right now? That's news to me." I cross my arms.

"No, not that. The Primordial dragon thing." Peter clarifies.

"Oh." I say.

"May I please speak?" the dragon asks politely. They wait for us to confirm, we do not. They sigh again. "My mastery of chronomancy has given me the ability to see our future, fraught with strife and conflict. Until moments ago, there were gaps in my visions. Blank spots, particularly surrounding the two of you."

"Was there a robot shaped hole?" I ask.

"To put it simply… yes. There was a Machine God shaped hole in my visions. The Master cleared the fog, and taught me how to use my chronomancy to manipulate the world around us. I removed your companions so we could have…"

"You knocked them offline?" Peter interrupts again.

"Yes." the dragon responds, annoyance growing on their face. "By merging too many timelines together, their connection to our reality is severed."

"You D.D.O.S.'d them?" Peter asks.

"...sure." the dragon responds.

"That's crazy." Peter comments.

"Anyways." Xindrog clears their throat. "Despite your terrible manners, I will be lending you my assistance in the coming battle. When the primordials rise, I will be there."

"Awesome." I say, thankful for any help we can get. I might have fucked up our alliance with Mournthing, even though he said much the same as the dragon.

"How are we going to prove to the Honorlord that we killed you?" Peter asks, eyes on the prize.

"Easy. You'll bring him my head." the dragon smirks.

Before either of us can ask the obvious question, two enormous heads crash to the ground. Exact copies of the dragon's own, neatly severed at the back of the skull.

"My alternative selves won't be needing those." they chuckle.

The one nearest me has a sword sticking out of it, like a Japanese reimagining of the Arthurian legend. I climb up, get a good grip, and start pulling. Despite my godlike strength, it still strains me to draw it out. When three feet of blade leave the head, I assume I've got it all, but it just keeps coming. The length is double… no, triple the length of a typical katana.

"An odachi?" Peter asks from the ground, watching the show I'm putting on.

"Of course you'd know the name." I gasp out between strained sounds.

The blade finally comes free, standing at a daunting fifteen feet long if you include the grip.

"Alright Sepheroth save some edge for the rest of us." Peter cracks a joke.

[Jellyfish Bones] added to inventory.

Jellyfish Bones - Legendary two-handed sword - requires level 65 - low agility

Sentient: This weapon has a consciousness. It can operate and think independently.

Floating: This weapon has the ability to hover close to the ground.

I can't use it with my other weapons, but I equip it to introduce myself.

Hello! I think at it.

古い池…

カエルが飛び込む

水の音.

It thinks back.

"Peter, do you speak Japanese?" I ask.

"I wish." he sighs longingly.

"Well… shit." I say.

激しく人生を生きてきたからこそ

乾ききった草は今も道行く人の視線を惹きつけます

花はただ咲くだけ

そして、精一杯咲かせているのです.

I'm sorry, I have no idea what you're saying.

I re-equip Thozur, Apaki, my shield, and my basic sword.

Ryucoatl. Apaki speaks up.

Another god?

Indeed. A dangerous one.

More dangerous than you?

Apaki responds with a mental smirk.

"That's neat. Anywho. How are we carrying these things back to the Honorlord?" I look down at Peter.

He lays his palm on the dragon's head, and it vanishes into his inventory. I fall, landing hard onto the pile of gold.

"Ouch." I complain, flat on my back.

"Walk it off," Peter tells me.

I get to my feet, looting the other dragon head.

[Head of Xindrog, the Living Oasis] added to inventory.

I shrug. Video game logic.

"It goes without saying that The Machine God cannot know of our meeting." Xindrog mentions.

"Second time we've heard that today. Our lips are sealed, dragon." I give him a thumbs up.

"Very well." they slink off, teleporting us back to the surface.

"Let's go tell the Honorlord he's a punk bitch and we can kill dragons too." I grin at Peter.