Demonic Magician

There was an odd anger in the eyes of the monster that now stood before me. A Troll, the System was keen to tell me.

His rough clothing and the surrounding ground were already stained with blood. Tears thoughout the muddied brown sack he used as a waistcoat exposed scarred flesh. He seemed tired and irritated.

The reason was rather clear. Each of the odd Max-scarecrows had metal spikes wedged into the area around them. I could imagine the System-created trying to attack the approximations of a bedazzling magician, and just cutting themselves up in the process. He was System-created, so I wasn’t sure he'd even remember or understand why. Just more needless cruelty.

And for what? They thought they could foster up a monster truly angered at me? That he could hold a grudge and track me down, kill me without hesitation for what the ‘man in purple’ had done? It sickened me that they were so… thoughtless.

The troll dropped to the ground, as drops of blood from my hand did the same. I let the fully powered card vanish away, hardly even registering that I had made the attack.

“You must have quite the fan club, Max,” Quinn said quietly.

“Be a lot cooler if I did,” my murmured response came, as I stepped out into the flattened field. I took some of the purple fabric from the nearest scarecrows. The others kept a wary watch around the area, expecting there to be someone watching… or perhaps just an actual threat to whatever this constructed area was meant to be.

Quinn ran his hand through his goatee as he slowly turned. “Perhaps this was meant to be something more, but the perpetrators have left?”

Made sense. If the Lady was making a push for Candlekeep and needed extra hands, any petty grudge held against me would fall to the wayside.

“I think she must be scared of us,” Ren said with a shrug. “To keep telling her underlings to look out for us.”

Another fair take. We hadn’t seen the woman since she escaped us on the island, yet she had given fair warning to plenty that I was a danger to their plot. It just made me wonder if she had tabs on us… knew if we were ruining her parade back here still. Then again, if her power was based on how many followers she had, then she’d know something was up.

I turned to the bear to see what his take was on this.

“They don’t even look like Max. He is more than just a gaudy attention seeker.”

With a nod, I decided not to engage that any further. He wasn’t wrong, on all accounts, but there was enough bouncing around inside my brain without putting my sense of self into doubt.

Instead, I stepped over to loot the troll. Part of me expected it to raise from the dead - a trick set up by the necromancer. They weren’t that smart, however, and even if they were, I doubted that we would have much issue. I paused briefly in thinking of what evils I could get up to if I was on the wrong side. I’d best not put that out into the world unless it was something that came into being.

I was only the wrong kind of murder away from being as bad as the Shadows.

[342 Gold]

[Bandage (4)]

[Unlucky Maul]

[Note]

“Hmm.” I stood and unfurled the page. “They left me a note.”

“Some baseless threats that will go nowhere?” Ren rolled her eyes.

I shook my head. “Well, threats are a given. I’m not sure how they anticipated me coming this way. Seems like wasted effort, if you ask me.” I caught their glares in wanting me to get to the point. “It’s actually a notice to offer me help, should I remove the necromancer’s group.”

Ren and Quinn exchanged a glance. “Does it say who from?” the elf asked.

“It’s signed by… the Eternal Wardens.”

The fencer grunted. “Such a false name if they require our action to do anything.”

I found myself agreeing with him. While more proactive allies sounded good on the surface, the requirement that we got our hands dirty before they’d lend aid soured any anticipation I had held. They could be apathetic like the campground groups. Or something worse.

However, it seemed as though it was neither a trap nor attempt to scare me away. It was in fact, a beacon. A way for me to get information without the new fangled Chat system. That could only mean my exploits had been found out by others…

That meant I had some manner of fame brewing.

I grinned as Quinn led us away from the field and to the small village beside it. The murdering side of me had been getting too much attention lately, but the showman part was starving for something greater. The only thing better than a wanted poster drawn by your enemies was a wanted poster drawn by your allies.

In fact, other than Ren prodding me to make sure I was fine every so often, I survived on these fumes of elation throughout the whole process of the Quest that Quinn dragged us through. It was perhaps one of the most boring things I had suffered through in my entire life.

Talk to this person. Move objects between other people. More talking.

Zero combat, and I gave up trying to impress the villagers before even arriving. I tried to speed through any dialogue options, only to be chastised by Quinn for missing out on some exposition that was important for answering a question further down the chain.

Ren made mention that killing Wildfolk all day might have been just as useful, given that we’d also get Power Tokens as well. I agreed, but I didn’t want to linger around the same area for too long. We could be found, and the experience would start to be a poor use of our time. The Dungeon after this Quest would also give us a level, and then we could think about power again.

Of course, I was more eager to put the necromancer in a grave. Killing Players didn’t seem too difficult, whatever level they were, as long as you struck first and in an important part of their physical body. In saying that, it wouldn’t hurt to have a couple of extra tools in our arsenal before going in on the offensive. Options gave us lifelines.

Just two more parts of the Quest, Quinn was eager to encourage me, as I held out a screwdriver as if it was a fouled diaper. Didn’t want to accidentally steal one of the important Quest items. A little danger-free leveling wasn’t the worst thing, on reflection. Sure, my ankle pain flared up a little from all the walking, and Ren looked sour about the whole experience… and Wolf grumbled throughout, but we did it without any harm.

In fact, a wave of relief passed over me as the final turn-in was done, and a beautiful golden glow illuminated my STAR.

[Level Up - 11]

[Stats Increased]

[New Passive: ]

[New Passive: ]

[New Ability: ]

Ren was just behind me on the last part of the Quest, while Wolf was a few back. Plenty of time for me to go over the abilities the System had granted me, unless I had to step in to stop him from eating an NPC again.

was thematically amusing. For every 5% health I was missing, my Party would gain a 2% Damage buff. I assumed the intention was that if I were floundering up on stage, those waiting in the wings could prop me up with some enthusiasm. Or violence. I could already force myself to drop 15% health using , assuming I didn’t let Ren know. That would be a good way to get a small damage boost.

Not content enough with just empowering my cards past the limit than is usually possible, increased the maximum velocity of them by 10%. Not a huge amount, but most passives seemed to sit contently in the ‘neat bonus’ range. Very few were game changing, but they all added up to increase my capabilities.

I left the active ability until last. Partly because it was becoming tradition, and partly because that’s the order the System delivered them to me. The third reason was that the name gave me the chills. I almost wanted to check around to make sure nobody was watching my screens - even though they couldn’t.

The System had granted me a new summon. A literal cannon that was somehow demonic. Without trying it out, I imagined it had little horns on it… either near the front or the back - I couldn’t decide. Once summoned, I could use it to either fire something from my Inventory if I was nearby, or just a blank confetti shot at any range. The confetti shot would Dazzle enemies, but either way, I could only fire every ten seconds and after three shots the cannon would return to… cannon Hell.

Perhaps the longest description box yet, it notified me that it was stationary, but could be rotated in a full circle. Having this for the fort would have been useful… I only had to be within line of sight to fire it, but beside it to load it with something from my Inventory. Of course, with I could have the bird sit on it and-

“You okay there, Max?” Ren disrupted my thoughts. “You’re staring off at the horizon and smiling.”

“That’s because our distant future has great things in it.” I grinned wider as I waited for her inevitable disdain.

“Our future together?” she asked, with a neutral poker face that could win awards.

I held her gaze for a couple of seconds, suddenly feeling like I needed to wait for nightfall to say what was on my mind. “If you play your cards right,” I eventually managed to eke out.

There was a slight twitch in one eye, but she maintained composure, only giving a brief nod in response to end that part of the conversation. “System give you any bullshit?”

“Yeah.” I clicked my fingers as if I was about to show it off, but I didn’t want to just yet. “Some ranged support and minor passives. How about you?”

“A healing ward, increases to my shield’s defense and armor piercing of my arrows.” She shrugged and turned to watch Quinn try to convince Wolf to hurry up for the last part of the Quest.

There were no decent rewards from the chain, aside from the experience. I had grabbed plenty of random things going around the village, which the occupants didn’t seem to mind. More tools at my disposal were always better than some loose change and chance boxes.

Still, I was getting itchy. Not just for the lack of action in the last few hours… but there was something bigger afoot. Like static in the air, I could feel it tingle the small hairs at the back of my neck. I often had the egotistical notion that I had a purpose in this world. That I was curated to deal with something. To solve a problem. Now it felt closer, but I was still unsure on if it was real, or just my fractured mind trying to cope or find solace somewhere here.

“Now you’re staring at the horizon, but you look… constipated?”

I turned to the elf and deflated. Her neutral expression had the cracks of a smile at the corners of her eyes. “This Wolf diet is really no good,” I complained.

“What’s that about eating me?” The bear himself stepped up beside us, a tired scowl across his face. “I will literally raze this village to the ground if I have to maintain another droll conversation.”

We both looked over to Quinn, who appeared to have had much worse threats leveled at him during the waning stages of the bear completing the Quest.

“Alright to take a break for food, Quinn?” As much as I wanted to keep pushing forward, it wouldn’t do to go without sustenance. The village seemed like as safe a place as any.

“Certainly, Max.” He gave me a nod and regained his composure. “I have a skill that can put down a campfire?”

I nodded eagerly. While the day was still too young to enjoy the warmth of it, there was still something naturally comforting about sitting around the fire. I had far too many chairs in my Inventory, it took me a second to find my favorite, while he picked a clear area to set it down without inadvertently damaging anything.

“You have a lot of utility skills, Quinn,” Ren noted.

“Ah, yes.” He looked up from her from where he was kneeled down. “Much like how Max has different demons he can summon from the same skill, part of my Class has useful survivor skills.”

That seemed reasonable. Although was an active ability, the System had given me the demonic bird as a passive. I assumed that was how the Classes that had crafting skills worked. A mix of combat ability and functional utility. Quinn had told us he was an Arcane Fencer, but perhaps that was a fib and he was something more mundane.

I narrowed my eyes as my brain tried to slide parts of the jigsaw puzzle together. The abilities and the accent, there was a familiarity there that I-

“Hey Max,” Ren moved her chair next to mine rather than arrange so we’d be equally around the fire. “Want to run through a few introduction tricks with me?”

She turned in her seat to face me, and I furrowed my brow. Hand out, I removed her hat to inspect for damage. “Perhaps your head is even more fragile than mine.”

“Ass. I’m being serious.” Her hand went up, and she pushed her hat back on. “Against the zombies, it was fine because they were slow and unresponsive. Against a real audience, we need to be snappier.”

I agreed. “Trouble is, introductions are generally long winded to build up to the reveal of what a star I am. I’ve always been a fan of ‘now perish’, however.”

“Oh, like a one-liner? Hmm.” Her head tilted in thought.

No greater bravado than a good one-liner before thrashing someone. I’d even used a couple in my time in this world - although I couldn’t remember a single one of them. Perhaps it was better that way, rather than to force a catchphrase.

Just as I was about to float some ideas, Wolf shuffled up from where he was laying, his snout sniffing at the air.

“Footsteps approaching,” he growled. “From the north.”