[You have been healed for 75 hit points. Remaining HP 391/425]
Dakkon’s powerful thrust, spurned forth from his right leg, hit nothing. He had aimed at the boss’s stomach but the round trest spun with a flourish, turning the full momentum from dodging into two swift attacks against Dakkon’s chest followed by a kick to push him off balance.
[You have been slashed for 31 damage. Remaining HP 360/425]
[You have been hacked for 42 damage. Remaining HP 318/425]
[You have been kicked for 21 damage. Remaining HP 297/425]
Dakkon attempted to regain his composure as he noticed the stubby trest drop his sword from his left hand, replaced by a small—but rapidly growing—ball of fire. Dakkon’s eyes grew wide, uncertain of the power that was about to be turned against him, and he waited on the balls of his feet. As soon as the boss thrust his hand forward to loose a bolt of flame, Dakkon tumbled to the side, narrowly dodging the magic bolt and stopped right before colliding with the throne. Wanting to take advantage of the boss’s dropped sword, Dakkon quickly placed his foot on a small chest at the base of the throne and launched himself from it, slashing in a wide arc towards the little goatman, who dropped to the ground, held up his glowing hot palm that had been forming another ball of fire, and shoved it into Dakkon’s face.
[You have been burned for 131 damage. Remaining HP 166/425]
Dakkon found himself temporarily blinded, but felt the rotund trest grab him by his leg and fling him. He slammed hard into the side of the throne and the force spun him around facing the boss, lying on his belly.
[You have been slammed for 73 damage. Remaining HP 93/425]
The little beast dropped the axe he still clutched and held his hands close together. As he began to chant, electricity arced between his outstretched fingers. Dakkon knew he was preparing the killing blow. Before the goat could finish casting his spell, Dakkon rolled behind the large throne and hid. The goatman waited for five seconds, then ten, and not wanting to waste its powerful incantation, turned to the ledge and let it loose upon the remaining members of his party. Dakkon’s last chance was here and now. He sprang from behind the throne and stabbed the boss’s back as it cast its spell down beneath him.
[You have sneak attacked a trest for 577 damage.]
Wrenching out his dagger, he kicked the boss off the upraised platform with all the force he could muster.
[You have kicked a trest for 12 damage.]
Last, he jumped to follow behind the beast in its fall. As the boss’s small, round body bounced off the solid, stone ground, Dakkon landed—pinning him with his knee and driving his dagger deep.
[Critical hit! You have stabbed a trest for 826 damage. Trest has been slain.]
[You have gained 1,350 experience! EXP until next level 2,880/3,960]
[Fortune favors the bold. You have gained a rank in Heroic!]
Dakkon immediately looked at his party’s life bars. Roth and Cline were under half, but Melee was—for the second time today—easily one hit away from her end. Mina stood chanting with feverish determination. Dakkon spun his head and shoulders back around to look just in time to see Melee land a final, powerful blow that cleaved off the head of the massive goat. The head bounced and shrank back to its normal size, then its body followed suit.
[You have gained 900 experience! EXP until next level 2,780/3,960]
Mina dropped down to her knees with exhaustion. The room was still and everyone lay dead or resting.
After 10 minutes, Mina managed to heal the party back up to full power, and Cline expressed his eagerness to loot the monsters.
“Before that,” said Dakkon, “there’s something I think you all might like to see. At the foot of the throne there’s a chest. I suspect the boss was using it to climb up into the throne, with those stubby little legs of his.”
“A chest?” asked Cline.
“The chest… after a boss battle… during an event… in an unknown temple for the God of Luck?” Mina worked the pieces together aloud, still mentally drained from the focus she displayed while keeping the party alive.
“You’ve got it,” said Dakkon. “Who knows what’s in that thing?”
“While I would normally say we should loot these guys first to be on the safe side,” Roth said wryly, “I’m with you. You get to make the call after that outrageous battle you had up topside.”
“Suits me,” Melee said with a chuckle. “I about soiled myself when he shot that fireball.”
“Well, for a definitely untrapped chest…” Cline said ruefully.
The party walked up the stairs and Dakkon knelt before the little chest. They held their breath as he tugged at the lid and… it opened.
|Name: Blessed Idol of Daenara
|Item Type: Consumable
|Uses: 1
|Durability: 1/1
|Attributes: Resurrection
|Description: This idol made of blessed clay depicts the beautiful visage of Daenara, Goddess of Life. Breaking this relic will resurrect any dead NPC once.
Everyone’s eyes widened. Cline gasped aloud. Greed filled their minds. A player could resurrect a long-dead emperor, a fabled creature, or a fallen loved one. NPCs died once in Chronicle. That was the rule. This item allowed one player the chance to break that rule. The item was beyond valuable. Dakkon wanted to suggest it be given to him, but knew he would have to settle by using that luxury he had acquired for something lesser. No one would accept a flippant claim to ownership for this. “Everyone… let’s roll for it,” said Dakkon.
Though they could band together, sell the incredibly rare item, and split the proceeds amongst themselves, that path was seldom taken. If a member didn’t want to sell the item, but use it instead, it was the only way to give each person their chance. In games of this sort one item tended to go to one player, with chance as the sole arbiter.
“I guess… that’s only fair,” said Melee. Mina and Roth nodded.
“I think Dakkon should have it,” said Cline. “It only seems right. None of us would have dreamed of coming in here if it weren’t for his… I don’t even know what to call it.”
“Balls of steel?” suggested Roth.
“More like titanium,” corrected Melee.
“I agree with the sentiment, but this is something that if used wisely could make any one of us a titan, maybe even one of the most powerful players in the game,” said Mina. “At worst, the owner could sell it off and live like a king in the real world as well as here. I’ve never heard of anything like this. It’s practically cheating.”
“I don’t mind if you all roll for it,” said Dakkon. “I appreciate the gesture, but were I in your shoes I don’t think I could afford to pass up on this chance. I don’t expect you to either.”
With a slightly guilty look on her face, Mina said, “Roll 1d100.” A large, virtual zocchihedron, a 100-sided die, materialized and fell to the ground. After a short tumble, the upturned number was 76.
Following suit, Melee and Roth rolled. Melee’s result was 42, while Roth scored a 36. Next up, Dakkon rolled and the room hushed as the large virtual die seemed to bounce and spin three times as long as it had for everyone else. When it settled, the number displayed was 77.
“I’ll pass on my roll,” said Cline.
Retrieving the priceless idol from the throne where it had sat as they decided who would get it, Dakkon held it lovingly in his arms. This item was his ticket to a wonderful life and he knew it. Never had he dreamt of being so lucky. He felt thankful to everyone, and doubly so to Cline. Dakkon turned, taking in a fresh breath of air, and Cline slapped him celebratorily on the shoulder. Some combination of unexpected force and stepping onto the uneven surface of a bearded axe lying on the floor caused Dakkon to topple forward, throwing the idol from the raised platform. Before anyone could feel the full pain of the loss, like a train wreck before them, the idol lay shattered on the ground.