DD1 ASC - Chapter 31 - Rats

“And this is the foundry,” Halith said, the ratling woman gesturing to the wide room filled floor to ceiling with furnaces, crucibles and countless barrels and pallets of unrefined ores, powdered charcoal and gleaming ingots of freshly skill forged metals.

The sheer quantity of mana -saturated steel that was being produced in this one room alone was staggering. Even though it was just a paltry base metal, the abundance of it was enough to set Typhoeus’s heart racing with delight as his draconic instincts revelled in being surrounded by so much freshly made steel. While his dragon sensibilities were overjoyed by being in the foundry, the oppressive heat was almost unbearable for his feeble human body. Even with his relatively high vitality score, he felt the urge to either retreat from the room or to turn back into a dragon. His perpetual gripe about his lack of a fire resistance skill grew with every passing second that he spent in the torturously hot foundry.

All around him, ratling smiths scurried about throughout the large chamber, their beady eyes and flammable fur protected by the cumbersome leather bodysuits that were stamped with a winding runic script to provide them with additional protection from the extreme heat. Not even his notable presence was enough to distract the dedicated ratling smelters from their duties. They were all so engrossed in their work that he would have suspected they were dungeon thralls if not for Halith’s repeated assurances to the contrary.

“And all this comes from the dungeon?” Typhoeus asked, holding up an irregular chunk of iron ore to the light.

“The powdered charcoal does, but we mine the iron and other metals ourselves,” Halith said, rubbing her hands together nervously as Typhoeus made a show of pretending to be unbothered by the heat, his ruse spoiled somewhat by how his long hair had instantly devolved into a tangled frizzy mess. “Of course, the dungeon guides us towards the best veins and does most of the excavating,” Halith added hastily, looking up as if she knew that it was listening in on their conversation.

Typhoeus had always been well aware that these sort of arrangements existed, but to see one up close and personal was another thing entirely. The dungeons that sovereign dragons claimed as their own were largely left to their own devices, to be occasionally threatened or bribed into producing an esoteric piece of sculpted gold or silver once it was old enough to survive the expenditure. A dungeon proactively arming its occupants like this one was doing and not even attempting to usurp their will was worrying, harkening back to an unpleasant precedent which he would really rather not think about.

“I see, this is very impressive. Can you show me to your smiths?” Typhoeus asked, careful not to stress the fragile veneer of politeness that separated his requests from demands.

“Of course, Lord Sovereign,” Halith said, curtsying deeply, the flowing fabrics of her long dress tenting outwards as she bent down low on her digitigrade legs. The differences between her form and the one he had adopted were highlighted by how her large furred body contorted itself in an attempt to perform a more human gesture of submission.

The ratlings had been unfailingly courteous to him since he had revealed his true form, Halith especially so. Now shed of her tusked helmet and steel breastplate, she was a remarkably helpful guide. No doubt her absolute terror fueled her near infinite patience, as she graciously indulged him in whatever flights of fancy struck him during his extended tour of the dungeon.

Halith was leadership caste, which strongly implied that she was a mage of some sort, not that Typhoeus could tell, either the woman was a true expert with her aura control, or she barely had any mana to speak of, as not even a wisp of the stuff leaked from her body. Neither option would have surprised him, as he was coming to learn that this dungeon and its occupants were very aberrant by modern standards. The dungeon core, having devoted itself fully into preparing the ratlings inside for war, was behind the sturdy fortifications that Typhoeus had so easily breached, every square inch of space being given over to the mass manufacturing of weapons, armour, and the training of soldiers for a cause that he was sure he could guess.

“The Great Wards are failing,” Halith said, stone-faced as if the mere idea made her uncomfortable, as well it should given her limited perspective.

“The wards are always failing. It’s what they do and the humans don't exactly help; constantly breaking things they don't understand,” Typhoeus said dismissively.

“Then you see the need for this then, for the coming war.”

“I don’t. The elder council will repair the wards as they always have done in the past. Your dungeon core is just doing what all cores do and flailing for relevance. This war of yours is only going to get you all killed.”

“So you won’t be joining us then? The Core is insistent that we ask for your aid, you could make all the difference, thousands of lives could be saved,” she said, her insistent pleas giving him pause, but likely not for the reasons that she hoped.

“No, I will not, and what do you mean by thousands? I’ve seen your living quarters, there can’t be that many of you in this dungeon,” Typhoeus asked warily, the pit of dread that he had been doing his best to ignore, growing imperceptibly in response to her words.

“There are not, but this is not the only dungeon preparing for the end times. The wards will fail if we do nothing. The cores are insistent. All of them are. If we are to survive, then the humans must die before the wards are irrevocably shattered. It is regrettable, but it is the only way,” she said solemnly, her beady eyes unflinching as she met his gaze and proposed what was little more than a pre-emptive genocide.

“Trust me on this, my species' ancestral memories are a lot less ambiguous than yours. The wards may wane, but they will not fail,” Typhoeus said, his growing annoyance from repeating himself creeping for the first time into his voice.

“Of course, Lord Sovereign,” Halith said, flinching back from his raised tone. “But answer me this. Have the wards ever been so weak? If there is nothing to worry about, then why do you insist on talking to me when the Core could explain it so much more clearly.”

“The wards will hold and I am talking to you because I’m tired of hearing lumps of crystal whisper directly into my brain,” he snarled, momentarily forgetting himself as Halith cowered back from him, the poor woman squeaking involuntarily in response to his brief lapse.

He kept forgetting how her fear translated into subservience, and as annoying as her meekness was, he couldn’t blame her for it. The few times in his own life that he had been so completely and utterly overpowered had left a lasting impression. The ghostly sensation of his missing wings itched at the mere thought of how easily they had once been broken by his sisters. He knew that he should have asked for another guide, someone who wouldn’t cower whenever he raised his voice, but the delightful scent of her barely controlled terror was truly a thing to behold even if it was making his stomach rumble in anticipation of a meal that it was highly unlikely to ever receive.

“Is this it?” he asked as they finally came to a stop outside another large door where the hammering of metal on metal could clearly be heard echoing through the thick wooden door.

“Yes, the forgemasters are through here,” she said, recovering quickly as she opened the door behind her and revealed the interior of another large room, this one filled with ratling smiths and their freshly forged products.

Typhoeus found himself actively salivating as soon as he entered the forgemaster’s hall. The stimulation of so much skill forged steel caused his already grumbling stomach to roar with a possessive hunger new to him in his human form. His eyes practically lit up as he surveyed the myriad of possibilities that he was seeing arrayed before him as Halith led him slowly through the blessedly cooler room where metal ingots were heated up before being beaten into shape. A veritable armoury’s worth of spearheads, swords and pieces of thick plate armour were stacked in neat rows and waiting to be stamped with runes before being distributed to the ratling soldiers waiting throughout the dungeon. Although, if Halith was to be believed, many of these pieces were destined to be traded elsewhere in exchange for political favours and other war materials. Here and there a few pieces caught his eye, but what really drew his attention were the blacksmiths themselves and the quality of the metal on display.

“I think I'm going to need to make a small amendment to our deal,” Typhoeus said. “And someone to eat,” he added almost as an afterthought, his stomach gently rumbling in appreciation of his efforts.

Hours later, he was well fed and sat on a small velvet cushion that was doing a piss poor job of protecting his delicate buttocks as he rode a cart back from the dungeon towards his camp. The heavy four wheeled vehicle was pulled by a team of six large dire rats, each one blinkered and about the size of a large pony. Typhoeus had been assured by Halith that they were tame enough not to bite, but he trusted the ratling woman significantly less than he could throw her, and he had already decided that he would do his best to keep the large beasts away from Arilla unless she decided she wanted to try her luck against them in the pit. But for now, he finally had a moment's peace, and he decided that it was as good a time as any to rank up his warcaster class.

*Congratulations, you have reached level 20. You must now rank up your Warcaster class before you can accrue any more experience.

Warcaster - You have proven to be highly skilled at bestowing great destruction with arcane magics. As a result, you are given the option of further strengthening your offensive spells.

+2 Vit, +2 Int, +1 Will, +1 Cha, +3 Free Stats at each interval, [Mage] tagged.

Will become...

Abjuration Specialist - You have proven your skill with barriers and wards. As a result, you are given the option of further strengthening your defensive magics.

+2 Vit, +3 Int, +2 Will, +1 Cha, +3 Free Stats at each interval, [Mage] tagged.

Penitent Magus - You have shown your willingness to sacrifice your own flesh to help others. As a result, you are given the option of further strengthening your magic by taking on the pains of others.

+4 Vit, +2 Int, +1 Will, +1 Cha, +3 Free Stats at each interval, [Healer] tagged.

Artillery Mage - You have caused great destruction with the simplest of magical spells. As a result, you are given the option of further strengthening your ability to commit wholesale carnage with your ranged spells.

+2 Vit, +4 Int, +1 Will, +1 Cha, +3 Free Stats at each interval, [Mage] tagged.

Offence, defence and some form of masochistic healing. While it was interesting that he was being offered a healer tagged class, it wasn't a difficult choice for Typhoeus to make and he once again pushed his class down the path of more destructive power. His second class was finally starting to get interesting, and he relished the euphoric feeling of having such a significant increase to his intelligence applied retroactively. Given his already high mental scores, a further 10 intelligence applied all at once was an intense feeling, as he felt his thoughts speed up all at once as the Great System made its changes to his mind.

Name: Typhoeus

Species: Sovereign Dragon (True)

Age: 54

HP: 4890/4890

SP: 4890/4890

MP: 5032/5140

Strength: 120

Dexterity: 80

Vitality: 91

Intelligence: 140

Willpower: 127

Charisma: 86

Free Stats: 3

Class: Young Adult Sovereign Dragon - Level 199*

Sovereign's Arcana - Level 193

Sovereign's Aura - Level 194

Sovereign's Body - Level 199

Sovereign's Breath - Level 186

Sovereign's Perception - Level 176

Alternate Form - Level 41

Class: Artillery Mage - Level 20

Warcaster’s Abjuration - Level 15

Warcaster’s Empowerment - Level 15

Warcaster’s Reservoir - Level 15

Unassigned Ability x1

Traits: Runt

For a level 20 mage, his stats were ungodly, but for someone stuck at the cusp of rank 5, he knew that he was far more balanced than a dual-class human mage usually would be, his species class being much more well rounded than his mage class likely due to the differing intents of their respective authors. While that was all well and good in his real body, as a human, the defensive benefits of a high strength score were much less pronounced without a skill to round them out. Having exponentially stronger skin was significantly less useful than sturdy scales or even a simple leather shirt. Already his new artillery mage class gave him twice the intelligence attributes at each 5 level interval than his much higher ranked species class did, and that would only continue to become more skewed in favour of his mental attributes as it continued to level through the different ranks.

Still, he had a new skill to pick and three others to rank up, the anticipation of his increasing power bringing an eager smile to his face as he followed the next prompt.

*You have one unassigned class skill.

Choose once from the listed abilities below…

Artillerist's Barrage - This skill reduces the casting time for subsequent castings of the same offensive spell. This ability's skill level is added to your intelligence score for the purposes of calculating the repeated spells casting time. This effect stacks with itself up to this skill's rank.

Artillerist's Spread - This skill increases the impact radius of your area of effect spells that deal direct damage by this skill's level in feet.

Artillerist's Guidance - This skill provides a limited guidance and scrying effect for spells fired at parabolic arcs provided the destination falls within (intelligence + skill level) * 10 feet.

[Artillerist's Barrage] was tempting; while he could already cast a simple manabolt faster than he wanted them, the ability to replicate the same feat for much more complex spells was appealing. [Artillerist's Spread] was less so as he rarely used such wide impact spells, and picking that skill would only serve to make it much more challenging to continue fighting alongside Arilla without risking catching her in the blast. Of the three, [Artillerist's Guidance] was the most appealing, not so much for the guidance effect, but for the scrying, a versatile form of magic that he had always had trouble with. While it seemed like it wouldn’t let him see at great distances without first committing to blowing something up, he knew that these skills were just a starting point, and this was one he was more than happy to work with.

Typhoeus activated the skill as soon as he selected it and frowned. His normal manabolts moved so quickly to their target and their trajectory followed so close to a straight line that he struggled to see the point of the guidance effect at first. It wasn’t until he fed the spell construct with so much mana that it was bloated and unwieldy that he finally saw the benefit of a parabolic arc appearing in his vision. He had a range of nearly one and a half thousand feet with [Artillerist's Guidance], the skill superimposing a golden dashed line in his vision that wavered with multiple influences: the blowing of the wind, where he positioned his extended arm, and how much mana he pushed into the different parts of the spell construct. Most impressive of all was how he could see a shifting patch of unassuming dirt in his mind's eye, which he instinctively knew was the target of the missile he had just formed.

He released his hold on the spell and watched as the unsteady mass of mana roared through the blue sky, scaring the shit out of the dire rats that pulled his wagon across the uneven terrain of the foothills. The poor animals screeched in fear and strained frantically against the reins in a desperate bid to escape the unsettling sound of the spell. Their combined efforts were ultimately rewarded only with a firm yank from Typhoeus’s mana-infused arms.

He turned his attention away from the beleaguered draft animals and watched as the spell trailed along the glowing arc in his vision, following his skills guidance almost perfectly. The minute delay in the spell being released had allowed for the wind conditions to subtly shift and divert the bloated missile from its predicted path. Seconds later, the patch of dirt targeted in his mind's eye exploded in a cloud of fire and soil as the overstuffed mana bolt hit the ground at speed, and his mind lit up as messages from the Great System made themselves known to him.

*Congratulations, Artillerist's Guidance has reached level 2.*

*Congratulations, Artillerist's Guidance has reached level 3.*

He smiled as the sound of the explosion reached him just over a second later, the notifications giving him all the incentive that he needed to begin shelling the beleaguered patch of dirt from a distance. The dire rats squeaked together in a chorus of terror as his skills steadily ticked through the levels, as with mana and time he brought them one by one to the next rank.

*Congratulations, Artillerist's Guidance has reached level 5. You must rank up the skill to progress it further.*

Artillerist's Guidance - This skill provides a limited guidance and scrying effect for spells fired in parabolic arcs provided the destination falls within (intelligence + skill level) * 10 feet.

Choose once from the list of modifications…

Course Correction - This modification allows your spells to more closely follow their predicted path regardless of weather or other unfavourable conditions. Correction effect is limited to 0.1 degrees per skill level per foot travelled.

Expanded Observation - The modification allows the scrying effect to be expanded to include all active offensive spells or mana constructs that do not have their own velocity. The number of simultaneously observed locations is limited to this skill’s rank.

Remote Shelling - This modification allows for an item to be designated as a foci along with a direction. So long as the foci remains within range (skill level * 10 feet), you may cast spells originating from the foci in the preassigned direction. The number of simultaneously active foci are limited to the rank of this skill.

[Expanded Observation] and [Remote Shelling] were both tempting, but Typhoeus was self-aware enough to know that he was not good at forward planning, and he could tell immediately that those modifications would best serve someone else who was. He eventually chose [Course Correction] as it seemed to be the most immediately useful one to him, something versatile that didn’t require drastic shifts to how he lived and fought. While he usually favoured casting small, fast-moving spells, he knew that he would actually be more inclined to use larger, slower spells if he was more confident that they would actually be able to hit their target.

Artillerist's Guidance - This skill provides limited course correction, guidance, and scrying effect for spells fired in parabolic arcs provided the destination falls within (Intelligence + skill level) * 10 feet. Course correction is limited to 0.1 degrees per skill level for every foot travelled.

...

*Congratulations, Warcaster’s Empowerment has reached level 20. You must rank up the skill to progress it further.*

Warcaster’s Empowerment - This skill allows you to expend an equal amount of health and mana in order to add this skill’s level to your intelligence score for determining the potency and finesse of your magical effects. Additionally, while your MP is full, your MP regeneration will instead regenerate your HP. The amount added by this skill is capped by your vitality score.

Choose once from the list of modifications…

Arcane Payload - This modification grants each spell with a moving payload a secondary mana reserve equal to 1/10th of the mana cost of the original spell. This mana reserve can be used to power spell constructs that will be discharged on impact.

Dragon’s Fire - This modification grants each spell with a moving payload an incendiary effect derived from the Sovereign's Breath skill with a mana spend equal to 1/10th of what is spent on the original spell.

Improved Inertia - This modification grants each spell with a moving payload a mass of 0.1 ounces per skill level without altering the mana required to move the payload, its speed, or its size.

[Arcane Payload] was, he considered, the smartest choice by far. It was the most versatile option that gave him a serious increase in his offensive power that would be virtually impossible to completely mitigate. However, [Dragon’s Fire] and [Improved Inertia] related to his innate aspects, options that resonated strongly with his draconic psyche. The former of the two granting him roundabout access to his [Sovereign’s Breath] skill which was still locked away by his [Alternate Form], it wasn’t the smart choice by far, as his species class skill required significant amounts of mana to work effectively, but even tangentially being able to breathe fire again was something that he couldn’t resist.

Warcaster’s Empowerment level 20 is now Artillerist's Empowerment level 20.

Artillerist's Empowerment - This skill allows you to expend an equal amount of health and mana in order to add this skill’s level to your Intelligence score for determining the potency and finesse of your magical effects. If the spell or mana effect includes a moving payload, upon impact, Sovereign's Breath will affect the target with a mana spend equal to 1/10th of the original spell's cost. Additionally, while your MP is full, your MP regeneration will instead regenerate your HP. The amount added by this skill is capped by your vitality score.

...

*Congratulations, Artillerist's Guidance has reached level 20. You must rank up the skill to progress it further.*

Artillerist's Guidance - This skill provides limited course correction, guidance, and scrying effect for spells fired in parabolic arcs provided the destination falls within (intelligence + skill level) * 10 feet. Course correction is limited to 0.1 degrees per skill level for every foot travelled.

Choose once from the list of modifications…

Delayed Strike - This modification allows for spells to pause in flight along their projected path and to resume at your command. The number of simultaneously paused projectiles is limited by this skills rank.

Guided Strike - This modification allows for the predictive arc to be directly altered by the caster up to the limits of the course correction’s angle.

Increased Range - This modification increases the range of this skill to (Intelligence + skill level) * 100 feet.

He quickly doubled down on his predictive arc and chose [Guided Strike].

Artillerist's Guidance - This skill provides limited course correction, guidance, and scrying effect for all spells fired up to a range determined by (intelligence + skill level) * 10 feet. Course correction is limited to 0.1 degrees per skill level for every foot travelled.

Satisfied with his choices, he went to cast one more spell to test out the limits of his new skill and its modifications, but when he saw the lumpy crater that used to be the flat patch of dirt in the distance, he realised that he may have overdone it. The dire rats were frothing at the mouth in fear, the reins that tied them to the wagon creaked audibly as they struggled to get away from him and the spells that he had cast. He made some soothing noises, but the creatures didn’t calm down in the slightest until he flared his aura at them, filling it with a placating calmness that stifled their shrill squeaks and very nearly put them all to sleep.

Typhoeus still had two more skills to rank up, but he could do those later back at camp, neither of them requiring large explosions or targets to practice against. The dire rats—who were now a little too calm if anything—made poor time pulling the heavy cart through the hills and within a few hours he rolled between the wardposts that marked the edge of his camp.

He breathed a deep lungful of air once he had crossed the magical threshold, enjoying the familiar scents that made his temporary home his. A smile made its way to his lips when he saw Arilla as she made her way out from inside their mud hut, her arms crossed over her chest as she looked up at him, and then his dire rat drawn wagon with a mixture of surprise and obvious disapproval.

“Shit,” Typhoeus said.