Fantasy Into the Dread Labyrinth

[AnonyMouse]

Samara Morghan​

When Sharon’s bullet struck the boss, Samara ‘raced’ forward, in an attempt to follow up on the attack. The Shaman was staggered by the strike and open for a follow-up. Unfortunately, due to the slowing effect and her own diminished strength stat, the only speed the giantess could muster was a slow, strained, march forward, as if her boots were made of concrete.

The Shaman shrieked in pain, releasing another pulsing shockwave of dark energy. Samara instinctively raised her shield, though she already knew the effect: another skull icon vanished from her DS, leaving only one. And then the Shaman teleported away, yet again.

“So, that’s your answer. Coward,” the shieldmaiden said with a grimace, the annoyance of this battle finally getting the better of her. Muddled thoughts filled her head. What to do next? Light this brazier, and then what? Try to find her again, in this accursed swamp, with her stats still ticking away? Would she even have the strength to fight her then? Would she even be able to carry herself that far or would she collapse under the weight of this body and her own gear?

Just as she was about to lose patience --and, perhaps, hope-- Samara heard a rustling in the branches above. She cast her eyes skyward just in time to see Fran leap from one branch to the next. The redhead healer seemed nothing like the reclusive girl she had been before. She twisted in midair, and fired what appeared to be a globule of blood from her outstretched hand. It traveled on a curved trajectory, arcing downward and right into the brazier.

The effect was immediate. A gout of flame exploded from the basin, spreading outward across the ground and air, burning away the fog and clearing the area. Samara gazed down at the calf-deep waters. Though they were still murky, she could actually see a few inches beneath the surface. And, more importantly, her stamina began to recover and, when she moved, the slowing effect was gone! Sadly, her mana was still nearly zero and her strength continued to tick away. It was now in the low 60’s, which brought a frown to her face. Would it ever stop? Was there no duration limit? Did getting tagged by one spell, even after raising her shield and casting a ward to block it, mean she was doomed to suffer its effects indefinitely?

Of course the Labyrinth doesn’t play fair, she thought as she clenched a fist. She still had more than enough strength. If it did, it would not stand a chance against the might of humanity. You erred in giving us this power, but taking it away will be an even greater lapse in judgement.

Fortunately, she was snapped out of it by Seymour arriving on the scene. Samara shot the man a brief smile; surely, he was disappointed the boss had gotten away, but she was glad to see him alive. Fran dropped down from the trees a moment later, now that the mist was gone. “An interesting mode of travel. I had no idea you were half-monkey, young lady,” Samara teased. “And since when can you… ‘ignite’ your blood? I would’ve liked to know that sooner.”

“Gross. I didn’t ignite anything. That’s just what it does when you toss mana in,” Fran said with a nonchalant shrug, as if she was a magical expert and Samara was totes stoopid for not knowing this. “You need a little mana to light ‘em, not fire,” Fran said, for added clarity.

“It’s never simple, is it?” Samara remarked, before switching to a more serious tone. She was the so-called ‘leader’ after all, might as well act like it. “Okay, everyone, job’s not done. She still has half health and, thus far, Sharon’s the only one who’s been able to touch her. The bitch can teleport --pardon my French-- as if slowing us down wasn't enough.”

She paused to wipe some wega blood from the blade of her zweihander and pick up the shield she had thrown earlier. “Where are the others?” she asked, looking between Seymour and Fran, though the former seemed to be… distracted. Samara noticed the girl would sometimes zone out, as if she was lost in thought or stuck in her own head. So, she focused on Seymour instead: “Are Sera and Daeva okay? And what about Sebastian? I… I don’t like these skull icons. I’ve a bad feeling…”

“They yet live,” Fran said, suddenly snapping back to reality. She lifted her eyes and stared intensely at Samara, tilting her head to the side as a sinister grin curled her lips. “The Meat Man is paying the price for his insolence. But they live... for nowww.”

There was something very eerie about the girl’s change of demeanor, but, as Samara had said, their work was not yet done. Fran was a puzzle to be solved another time. “Then we’ve no time to waste. The Shaman is a coward… and coward’s prey on the weak. She won’t fight us without her stupid fog. I suspect we’ll find her at the next lantern, wherever that is. Are you all ready to move?” she said, addressing all of the adventurers present.

Interactions: TreasureSniper | RedArmyShogun | Thalia_Neko | EmperorsChosen | Tau | @Skyswimsky

 

[RedArmyShogun]

Sharon Ironblood​

15 Rounds remained, and yet, the bitch still wasn't dead and shooting the totem, she could not yet decide if it did anything, yet another shot into the bitch, yet another skull lost. Not good, not good at all. She was sure that the skulls were some sort of countdown, but a countdown to what? Still, her shot had landed home, the situation was tenuous. And it was tedious.

"Bleed'n and bloody hell..." Still, the recent arrivals had some useful information, of note on those braziers and just how they worked. Mana, something she didn't have a skill in. Amazing how that worked. Still, least they had something to do. Content with letting the others talk as her stats dipped a bit, Sharon had no problem with moving out, however, one thing she had noticed did bear worth mentioning.

"I think she uses those totems to teleport, no idea with the skulls, I got 15 bullets left, and there's just a little someth'n I wanna try. I want your lot if you can, to get in close, get her health bar down nearly to the end of that second bar, but then stop while the swampy bitch has just a smidge left. I'm going to try using my special skill thats been eating away at her health, and seeing if I can shave both bars off. With luck we won't have to find out what that last skull does when it goes away. Otherwise I agree, we ought to get moving, get rid of this damn fog once and for all."



Interactions: All there

 

[Thalia_Neko]

Most of the others had sort of moved away from Jiànlong, left alone on the raft. But when he watched the brazier burn away the miasma of the swamp, he hopped off, splashing a bit into the water. It didn't debilitate him. "Hey, I'm going for the exit!" He called, cutting through another Wega, stabbing it straight through its head. He yanked his sword back, dropping the dead being into the water. "She must be there, or around there, or there's something there," he said, before trudging off that way. The water was no longer magically hindering movement, but it still wasn't the easiest to walk through normally speaking.

Sharon had a neat idea, but it didn't seem to pan out. Almost at the exact time she was suggesting it, one of the green spots grew, until a wicked pattern akin to a rune appeared in the green smoke. The runic symbol lit up green before the entire thing engulfed in green flame and burst open. A smidge of the Shaman's HP bar filled back up, about a third of those segments. The other two green energy spots were gaining power like the first.

Daeva sent out a frog man she had managed to resurrect out of the swamp, and a Wega. The undead wega leapt at a wega and tackled it, raking it with its claws. The alive wega cried out, but took its clawed hands, stabbed them through the neck of the undead wega and ripped off its head. Then proceeded to shred the remaining body. Luckily, the undead frog man finished off the wega with a stab of its spear through the chest. Then it dove in the water, and swam towards the shaman. It leapt out of the water, stabbing straight through one of the green spots, bursting it before completion. The shaman hissed and with one swipe of her scythe, cleaved the undead frog man down.

Daeva soured. There weren't anymore fodder wega around for her to siphon any mana from. She couldn't replace the undead, nor fire off a Dark Usher with her current mana. She was useless. But at least she could check on Sara, who was still with her on the raft. Sara didn't seem any worse than before, so that was good.

 

[TreasureSniper]

It was good feeling, to reunite with a familiar face after facing down the seemingly endless wega horde. While he would have loved to stay and chat, he knew that he only a had few more seconds left for his red razor rush, he wasn't about to waste them chatting away. "I am going back to the group, my "other" eye picked up on something." While he didnt know what it was, based on the silhouette he saw, it most likely was the shaman. "I'll soften it up for you, you guys can finish it off." Assuming of course there was something left to finish off after he was done with it.

Without a second thought, Seymour blitzed across the path he had taken before, running over anything he could break, while dodging the things he could not. Before long he could see it, there was no doubt in his mind. This was the shaman they had been looking for. A lot scrawnier than he expected, but a boss is boss. Seeing that it had already laid waste to Daeva's makeshift militia, its time he returned the favor. Just as the red razor rush aura, flickers out, Seymour manages to throw the acquired axe with all his might towards the shaman, such a projectile would not doubt cause grievous damage if it struck true.

Even without his red razor rush, Seymour was still confident enough to take this thing on. Seymour closed the distance, making sure to strike the Shaman from a blindspot with an upward strike from his gladius, seeking to dismember one of its dangly arms.

 

[Thalia_Neko]

The Shaman noticed the flying ax. She swung her scythe, empowered by dark magic, the aura of it wafting off the blade like black smoke. Her slash collided with the ax, and the black and red auras breaked like lightning. But after a brief struggle that the shaman looked like it would lose, it finally managed to divert the axe away, splashing it into the swamp.

But then the man's sword swung up through her arm, causing the Shaman to shriek in pain. A spindly, thin whited arm flew out of the cloak, splashing into the water with the axe. The Shaman stumbled back, hissing in pain. The chunk of health it had recovered was removed by that one slice. Only for the final green spot of magic to flare up and burst, completing the spell, returning a chunk of health to her. But the shaman was still missing an arm.

Aggressively chanting more wega magic, she stepped forward, pointing her scythe at Seymour. Spells of darkness flying out towards her new perceived threat.

 

[AnonyMouse]

Samara Morghan​

The large woman’s brows wrinkled with thought as she listened to the maid’s plan. Thus far, Sharon had been the only person capable of damaging the Shaman. The others couldn’t even get close. But, each time she hit another milestone in the boss’s health bar, the Shaman did ‘magic stuff’ and ripped a skull icon from their DS’s. Sharon’s plan was to bring the Shaman right up to the brink, then smash through the last of her health, before she could channel her retaliatory magic.

Samara nodded in agreement. It seemed like a sound strategy to end this quickly, presuming the melee fighters could even get a hit in. That would be the deciding factor here. Before she could say as much, Seymour raced off, back in the direction from which he had come. Was he merely being overeager or did his eyes spot something? It didn’t matter. Things were in motion once more and the Chosen must move with the changing tide.

“Sharon, with me. We shall attempt your stratagem. May our blows ring heavy and your shots fly true,” she said with a small salute, before swiftly turning to the mage: “Fran, follow Jian, if you would. Seek out the next brazier. She may teleport to it if --no, when-- we damage her,” Samara said, pointing in the direction the boy had gone.

She wasn’t entirely sure if the erratic blood mage would take orders. Fortunately, Fran nodded and sprinted after the Walking Swordsman without argument or dissent. Samara hoped this was the right call. They had already lit two braziers. A third was likely near the exit. Or, if it weren’t, they might encounter it along the way.

She didn’t like splitting up again but, when facing an enemy that can teleport, being in one place could easily mean being in the wrong place. At least this boss seemed to have a pattern, which they could exploit. Dividing their forces doubled their chances and, even if the Shaman doesn’t teleport to Jian and Fran, lighting one more brazier couldn’t be a bad thing… right?

So much uncertainty… when everything is in flux, is there such a thing as a ‘good plan’… or a ‘good leader?’ Does anything we do actually make a difference? Samara thought. But there was no time for second-guessing. March forward. Face the enemy. Fight. That is what a defender does.

Without further discussion, Samara raced after Seymour. Although speed was not her strong suit --especially when pursuing his Red Razor Rush-- she felt much faster now that the stamina-draining fog and ‘water walk’ effects had cleared. Sharon quickly overtook her and she soon lost sight of the sniper-maid, who probably veered off the direct route to find a better, less obvious, firing angle.

When Samara arrived on the scene, she found a very exhausted Sebastian. The man looked as if he could barely stand, yet appeared physically unharmed. More debuffs, it seems. Daeva, too, looked winded and there were no thralls near her. Probably low on mana, Samara thought, without breaking stride as she lumbered onto the field of battle. She passed them by like a speeding truck, sparing them only a small glance and a reassuring smile.

That just left Seymour, who was currently facing the one-armed Shaman. He certainly worked quickly, this Limbtaker. Or was it Headtaker? Headbringer? No matter. He was currently staring down the barrel of a flurry of dark magic as Samara raced up from behind him.

“Not on my watch," Samara said as she spun and hurled her shield forward. Its arcing trajectory soaked up most of the boss’s attacks in mid-flight, giving the shield a dark magical glow, but doing little to alter its path. The thrown shield raced past the Shaman, so close it tussled her stringy hair, before slamming into the trunk of a tree many feet away, where it became embedded in the bark.

But her assault did not stop there. Samara thundered past Seymour and headed straight for the boss. He didn’t have to read her mind to know her intentions: Follow me, we end this NOW. There was a sense of inevitability in her movements. Waning strength, mana nearly gone, stamina barely recovered. But still, she would not stop. Mortal men had done more with less. Each heavy footfall stirred up swirling wafts of miasma, making her appear like a ghost train barreling through the mist.

“All these tricks and games! All this running and hiding and sacrifice!” she declared as she threw her other shield, this time at the boss itself, and immediately drew the zweihander from her back as she closed distance. With the tip of her sword, she speared a wega corpse as she ran, and flicked that at the boss as well, using the withered body as a projectile to power through the last of the dark magic the Shaman had fired at Seymour. Its emaciated flesh exploded into dust as the dark energies devoured it.

“And where has it gotten you!? Closer to my blade!!!” Two hands. Knuckles white. Eyes ablaze. As Samara gripped her sword and twisted, every gargantuan muscle tensed in a stance that could best be described as a Major League slugger swinging for the fences. She would not just cleave the Shaman in twain. She would sunder the entire Labyrinth if she could, sever it from this plane of existence.
Interactions: TreasureSniper | Thalia_Neko | EmperorsChosen | Tau | @Skyswimsky

 

[Thalia_Neko]

The first shield sped passed the shaman, buffeting her with wind, blowing off her hood, and whipping up her dreadful white locks. The second shield the shaman managed to deflect with a fierce strike of her staff, empowered by magic, knocking it aside. But the effort staggered the shaman, opening it up for attack.

Still, the shaman recovered quickly, and attempted even then to avoid a deadly strike. But Samara's attack struck true. Her massive, heavy sword cut down the Shaman's side, from top of her shoulder down into her abdomen. The wega shrieked in agony, as her health dropped all the way to the last 25%.

At the moment it hit the 25% marker, the shaman teleported away, saving it from being cleaved in two.

She appeared, as surmised, right beside the last barrier -right in front of the door leading to Floor 3. Just as Jiànlong and the redhead were arriving. Well, basically so. Jiànlong had been standing just outside the miasma's range, contemplating what to do, with final brazier in sight. And now, before him, the Shaman appeared in all her vitriolic, frenzied, damaged glory. Leaving him speechless.

The Wega Shaman screeched in pain, her body nearly split down the center. With her hood off, her frail form was completely visible, down to her rib cage and form as wizened and bleached white as any dead tree in that marsh. Her blue blood spurt from her grievous wound, as half her body flailed one way, and the other half the other. Shrieking, a final dark wave of magic released from her, across the marsh.

It struck Jiànlong first, but would hit every other party member in line. The final skull in his DS would shatter, as would everyone else's. Sebastian would feel another debilitating wave of energy cross over him -this one, worse than the last. This time, another knock of debuffs would tear through his stats. Leaving all of them dangerously low. And finally, a dark blot would begin to form on all of the raiders -but would not be completed yet. It was still forming.

Immediately after the dreadful wail, more green marks of energy began forming around the Wega Shaman, this time 5 in all. They were forming with rapid pace, as the shaman hissed and screeched in her vitriolic magical voice. She was determined to regain what was lost. Simultaneously as the dark wave of energy, more subservient wega rose up out of the waters. Almost like zombies. Their tasks were to unlight the braziers, and they marched towards them with dreadful purpose. This was the final stage of the fight, the final phase.

Jiànlong was nearly frozen in fear, watching this decrepit being screeching and flailing, dark energies swirling out from her. He gripped his sword, arms shaking.

 

[AnonyMouse]

Franceska Feiss​

Faust sprinted through the cleared swamp, each step splashing filthy water on her clothing. However, her labcoat remained pristine and white, billowing behind her like a phantom’s cape as she traveled in pursuit of… what the fuck was his name again? Jake? Jean? Whatever. The Walking Kid.

Jian, Fran said in their shared mental space. Faust had nearly forgotten the girl was still along for the ride. You’ve been going on and on and on about how the Labyrinth chose you to lead us deeper, yet you can’t even remember our names.

Names are meaningless until you prove yourselves, Faust retorted, baring her teeth as she launched skyward and latched onto a tree. They had reached the miasma now and she traveled from trunk to trunk, staying above the mist as much as possible. But at least the boy is using the name he was given, unlike some othersssssss. Insolent wretches…

Although Fran couldn’t roll her eyes, due to the Other One being in control of this physical body, she could at least project the sensation of doing so and radiate her disapproval. Anyway… do you think Samara was right? Will the Shaman teleport to us? A-are we gonna have to fight her?

‘We?’ Faust said, projecting her hatred. There is no ‘we’ and there will be no ‘fight.’ I Will dismantle this pretender and you will bear witness. I will feast upon her blooooood.

Fran groaned. No thanks. I'm out. Don't wanna puke twice in one day, so I'm gonna take a nap now, 'kay.

No... staaaaay, she purred. We will do this together, like sisterssssss, Faust said with demonic delight as she came to an abrupt stop and hung inverted from a branch as she surveyed the clearing below her.

All that talk about me being useless and now you wanna be 'sisters?' Make up your mind, you fucking wierdo.

I am trying a new thing. Two minds. One purpose. You shall seeeee, Faust said with enthusiasm as she unwound Serpentera from her waist and returned it to its staff form, all while hanging upside down by her knees. But, within their mental space, she was projecting something to Fran. A thought. An idea. A theory. You like magic, no? Do you seeee?

That's... an interesting idea. You wanna out-mage a mage? That's kinda ballsy, Fran thought as she observed the scenery through Faust's eyes. Or were they her eyes? The line blurred. She wasn't sure anymore. Alright, let's give it a try. Might be fun.

The final brazier lay ahead, in a clearing. Jian had already arrived. She would not be able to reach it without coming down into the water. Even trying to fire a blood bullet into it from this angle would be difficult and smashing the totem from here, nearly impossible. But, if she came down, her stats would begin to drain. It would be best to wait...

Fortunately, she didn't need to wait long. "Kekekeke... Morrigan was right about one thing," Faust whispered as a portal began to manifest. "The coward fled. And now, the coward shall fall." Her eyes drank in the scene beneath her, like a spider loitering at the edges of its web as the Shaman emerged, badly wounded and delirious... or deranged. Faust licked her lips at the sight of fresh Wega blood. Rich Wega blood. Warm, delicious, Wega bloooood!

"Sister, we strike! Boy, go for the totem!" she screeched at Jian as she pounced. He was frozen in fear of the Shaman, but Faust would show him what true fear looked like. A single, powerful leap propelled her toward the boss, like a loosed dart, all while the Shaman was in the midst of chanting and flailing about like a buffoon. She was single-mindedly focused on the prey before her. But, she didn't have only a single mind. With a brief flick of her wrist, Faust released a droplet of blood, just as she had done at the other two braziers, and then gripped her staff with both hands, letting her 'sister' take care of the rest. As her iron staff crashed against the Shaman's scythe, a wave of fire erupted behind her from the brazier.

Their weapons locked and she quickly discovered even her meager strength was enough to overpower this vile creature. "Transfusion Arrow!" she said, with a sadistic grin, as Serpentera switched to its whip form, coiling around the Shaman's midsection and pulling her in close. The conjured item manifested in Faust's right hand and she quickly plunged it into the Shaman's abdomen, burying it up to its fletching. "Transfusion Arrow!" she said again, summoning asecond in rapid succession and driving it into her neck, where she held it there as she stared into the Shaman's wild eyes as she arrows drank her mana.
Interactions: TreasureSniper | Thalia_Neko | EmperorsChosen | Tau | @Skyswimsky

 

[TreasureSniper]

As the Shaman battled Samara, Seymour watched from the distance, listening to the inner machinations of the shaman. Knowing what would come next, he couldn't help but smile, before turning to the opposite direction. "You won't be able to finish her off like that. But just keep doing what you are doing!" Seymour flashed the shieldmaiden a smile before swiftly running off to a seemingly random location. While he had no doubts that Samara had the strength to survive the encounter, he understood that she might not have the skills to finish it, given what he has seen thus far from the Shaman. The pitiful cries of the weakened shaman and an angry shield maiden grew distant with each stride he took toward his destination.

---

Just in the nick of time, Seymour had arrived to see Fran completely dominating the fight against the Shaman, easily overpowering her with the red head's physical strength while sapping away the only resource that was keeping the shaman relevant in this fight, her mana. What a lovely sight it was to behold, the vile creature was finally getting its comeuppance, in the hands of a redhead no less. But he wasn't about to let her die just yet. No she didn't deserve such an easy death after what she had put the group through.

Seeing that Fran had just drained the shaman completely dry, Seymour sprang forward, performing a flying kick to the shaman's back, forcing her onto the ground. Its remaining arm began to wildly flail around, trying its best to claw away whatever it was that was pinning her down. It stayed in motion only for moment before a gladius impale its hand, forcing it to remain on the ground. "I've had enough of you and your stupid tricks!" Seymour slammed its head onto the ground a few times in rapid succession.

"All that power, all those minions, just for you to die like this...." Its thoughts were pitiful, sounding scared, alone, and confused. It pleaded for help from its minions, but none of them would save her from what would come next. Planting both his hands firmly onto the head of the shaman, Seymour held his knee against the back of the shaman and pulled back. And thus came the screams of pain and anguish from the boss. "Pitiful Wega, you die as you've lived, without meaning or purpose." Such noise only intensified as he gripped tighter around its head and yanked it backwards. The sounds of flesh and bone breaking apart grew louder and its screams grew more and more panicked until eventually they were silenced.

He had his prize, the shaman's head. Tossing it to one side for a moment, he panted heavily while leaning on a tree. Despite finally being able to kill the source of their suffering after all this time, he strangely felt...empty, even disgusted a bit. Taking a moment to look at his hands, he knew that this was not the first time he had seen them covered in so much blood, and yet he also knew that it would not be his last. Where was it, the enjoyment, the pride he used to feel when slaying worthy foes? Why did this victory fell so hollow all of sudden? It was bewildering. He got exactly what he wanted...and yet it felt meaningless at this moment.

"Is...is everyone alright?" he finally spoke, trying to wash away the blood in his hand in the muddy water. "That was...a lot messier that it should have been." An understatement to say the least.


AnonyMouse Thalia_Neko

 

[Thalia_Neko]

As Jiànlong went to snuff out the last brazier, the green orbs of healing magic burst, unable to be completed and heal the boss when she was attacked. The Wega Shaman recoiled from the surprise attack, clashing their staffs together. The Wega's piercing orange gaze connected with its attacker, glaring hatred. She began cursing out this interloper in Wega language, which sounded like a lot of angry rasps and hisses.

Then she cried out when the arrows plunged into her. But it was the mana draining effect that caused her the most pain, and the shaman began to shake and shudder with pain. She opened her eyes once again, not willing to go down without a fight, and her Hp bar was mostly fine, it was just her mana being drained, so she wasn't dead yet!

With all the skulls gone from their UI, they were able to be completely affected by her magic now! The Shaman began intoning a dastardly spell of the most evilest of intentions. Dark energies began to form around all of the party present in the fight. However, she was interrupted by another attacker! The spell was unable to be completed as her head was ripped from her body with a shrill cursing shriek.

The Hp bar was snuffed out instantly, and the shaman died. They had successfully killed the floor 2 boss! The Shaman of the Swamp was killed. Its headless, broken body collapsed into the swamp. The curse across the boss's domain was completely lifted. The remaining fog dispersed, and the swamp water cleared up considerably, looking like fresh water out of a lagoon or brook or some such water source.

Everyone present would feel the new energies flowing within them as they all experienced level ups and skill level ups.

As the body fell, it essentially burst apart. Some 30 quartz beacons pitter-pattered into the water, glittering under the water. Two emeralds fell out, gleaming green beneath the water. Her scythe balanced for a brief moment, but then toppled like a tower falling over, half of it in the water, and half sticking out on the dry land that the floor 3 door was placed upon.

Three chests rose up out of the swamp, each with a different appearance, noticeable as the swamp water rain down them. Two were of considerable size. One was gilded, embossed, and looked to be made with incredible craftsmanship. However, it was sealed up tight, with a big brazen lock, and wouldn't budge an inch. The other was decidedly less impressive, but was a solidly built chest. Sturdy and firm. It also had a lock on it, though this lock wasn't as firm or impressive, and even a bit of rust could be seen on it. The other chest was not locked and easily the most normal-looking of them all. It had no noteworthy features other than being a simple, small wooden chest.

When Jiànlong opened the lesser chest, in it sparkled some more beacons. With one more emerald glittering amongst the treasure, and two golden beacons gleaming like priceless artifacts! There were a few mana potions in the box and a few stamina potions, both of decent quality, which restored more than the lesser crappy ones the party had been drinking thus far.

For Daeva, she already had eyes on her prize. Walking out of the water, up onto the mound of earth and cobblestones, she grasped what the shaman herself had dropped. And wielded with gusto.

The necromancer's eyes lit up as she lifted the obsidian, gnarled weapon.

Black Poison Scythe​

Labyrinthian​

Grade: Rare​

Effect: Doubles as a catalyst for magic. Notably, dark magic. Lowers mana cost and raises damage by a small margin. However, repeated use will poison the user.​

​

Signature weapon of the Wandering Wega Shaman of the Swamp. A dark artifact meshing a killer's instinct and a dark mage's will. Poisonous to the soul.​

Daeva read it (the tooltip) over, and a grin spread across her face. Her eyes glittered like the chest Jiànlong opened, only for the scythe in her hand, rather than any pretty baubles that had transfixed the Walking Swordsman. The warning and dangers posed by the weapon didn't seem to concern her at all.

For Seymour, he had his trophy:

Shaman's Head​

The head of the despicable shaman that guarded the third floor and made a swamp her home. Shriveled, disheveled, and decrepit head of the shaman, still oozing and dripping blood, but still brimming with dark energies. Despite death, the eyes seem to have a consistent, constant, unnatural glow.​

​

+22 Mana​

+12 Int​

+5 Dark Force​

Lowers casting time a smidge.​

-10 Str​

Every spell and skill cast damages user HP by %1.​

Another thing dropped from the shaman, floating atop the swamp's water.

Daeva inspected it. It was a skill scroll.

However, as it was a Boss Skill Scroll, it was otherwise indecipherable.

Or it would normally be, except Daeva could feel mystic energy from the scroll, and from deep within her swell up. And she found herself able to read it, with its contents translating before her very eyes.

​

Occult Skill Scroll​

UNIQUE​

BOSS SPELL​

Shaman's Weakening​

>>Casts Shaman's Weakening on a foe. Weakens primarily physical stats and lowers enemy's damage. Effects are proportional to skill level.​

Now, all that was left was the two sealed chests.

AnonyMouse TreasureSniper Tau EmperorsChosen Inheritance