Ngl, I think my equipment was a bit underleveled for this fight. Died several times to being trash at dodge but eventualy beat it. ended up needing to build a decent arena tho. Crab theme is bop. praise the perfect one.
Armour: Victide (Ranger)
Weapon: Mandible Bow (Jester Arrows); Arkhalis
Acc(11/11): Band of Regeneration, Amidas Spark, Sailfish Boots, Luxor's Gift, Aglet, Rover Drive, Crown Jewel, Tsunami in a Bottle, Frog Leg, Aero Stone, Shield of the Ocean
Health: (400/400)
The breeze was becoming sour.
It was faint, barely perceptible, but the gross sweetness of rot was empathetically and undeniably there, floating in the eastward breeze. The Merchant gritted his teeth as recognized the scent to be stronger than the day before. The Crimson was coming.
How much longer do we have?
About a week ago The Old Merchant had been driven from his hometown by the spreading Crimson. The age-old bonds on the parasitic monstrosity had somehow become undone and the sticky, pulsating hell overran its borders. Time was short. He needed to escape the confinement of this compound before The Crimson horror consumed them.
The Guide and The Monster Knight… what could their goal be? Why did they imprison us so close to The Crimson? No… it doesn't matter. I need to rescue myself and these townspeople from at all costs.
The Old Merchant sighed as he walked his daily path about the prison's perimeter. Unlike The Nurse and The Dealer - who seemed quite happy to enjoy The Compound's amenities without a care in the world, The Merchant was much more anxious. He spent his time carefully studying their confinement in order to learn of a method to escape. So far, all he had accomplished was marking out the borders of the arcane jail.
The trigger to some sort of teleportation spell. The moment you cross this line - you vanish and reappear at the other end of the prison...
He had searched daily, dutifully, for a break in that border to no avail. Only then did he turn his gaze inward. There was some sort of spell on this place. There must be, but who had cast it and from where had it come? The Guide and his Monster Knight seemed capable of coming and going without issue. The pair were likewise the first occupants of this compound. When The Merchant had his first (violent) encounter with them, he was shocked at their lack of hospitality. Now, he was certain they acted the way they did because they were the wardens of this jail.
The Guide and his Monster Knight…
The Merchant gritted his teeth. He wasn't one to default to violence, but the times were dire. He could not face this pair of wardens on his own. The Guide commanded The Knight, and The Knight was ruthless and dangerous. If The Merchant wanted to stand against his jailers, he needed to form a coalition with enough power to at least threaten The Guide. After a great deal of deliberation, he concluded the best way to handle this situation was to do away with The Monster Knight entirely.
Hmph… The Nurse didn't believe my evil sorcerer story, but at least The Arms Dealer does. I'm going to need his strength to accomplish this. But… The Nurse said The Slayer survived a dragon's attack? A single gunman won't be enough to finish him.
Time… was running against him. Should he risk the operation now with only The Arms Dealer, or wait and pray for somebody else to stumble upon their compound to join their cause. With each passing day The Crimson drew nearer and the chances of obtaining a new ally likewise grew slimmer. Surely all the men and women escaping from The Crimson were long gone, having fled to safer parts of the country. It was very likely they were the only occupied settlement in many tens of miles.
I… I need to take the risk I need to begin planning fo-
*Crunch, crunch...*
Startled out of this thoughts, The Old Merchant froze to listen carefully. Heavy, rapid footsteps were approaching the compound. Was it The Monster Knight and The Guide? Had they already returned? The Merchant quickly glanced around for a place to hide himself. The last thing he needed was The Guide becoming suspicious of a potential prison break.
*huff...huff… crunch...crack*
The footsteps were getting close. They crunched through the undergrowth with an almost panicked urgency. Just as The Old Merchant found cover, a stout, disheveled figure burst through the trees and into the prison's perimeter. He was a short specimen - a mountain dwarf - who boasted an impressive ginger beard and heavy, leather armour. The backpack he wore looked like a pincushion for all the arrows and knives sticking out of it. Clearly he was being pursued.
"Gack!"
A knife was hurled from the shadows, thrumming through the air until it found its mark in the fleeing dwarf's armored calf. Even so, his pace didn't slacken. He continued in his beeline in the direction of The Compound and soon disappeared into the dense foggy forest. Almost immediately, a set of much lighter footsteps followed his.
*tap, tap, tap… tap…*
They were light and deft, the steps of a trained assassin. They slowed, then stopped abruptly at the outer border of The Confinement. It was only then that The Merchant could see that slender, figure standing there, carefully observing the faint mist that appeared on the border. His entire body was concealed beneath a heavy, shapeless cloak, but the insignia emblazoned on his armband made it very clear to whom he belonged.
Yharim's spy?!
The Spy, who was so viciously pursuing the dwarf just a few moments ago, suddenly seemed distressed. He paced back and forth at the border, then stomped his feet in frustration. After a long moment, he reached out and touched the invisible wall - only to recoil violently at the contact.
"Tch."
A frustrated noise, then the assassin's shoulders slumped. He shook his masked head and turned back, vanishing the way he came.
The Guide wasn't one to use profanity. His mother had always scrubbed his tongue with soap whenever she caught him swearing. Once, he was sitting with his friends in the town square; the group of them were engaging in a bit of heated debate. Of course, The Guide had been winning. He was the smartest amongst them by far… but whatever clout he had gained was immediately drowned by the utter shame of his mother's untimely and wrathful appearance. Right then and there, she slapped him with her sandal and dragged him to the local tavern to make him brush his teeth with detergent.
"FUCK! FUCKING HELL!"
The experience had been so incredibly humiliating that even his group refrained from mentioning the incident in front of him. Since then, he scarcely let anything remotely inappropriate pass through his lips. It'd take something incredibly shocking to make him whisper curses under his breath, much less holler them at the top of his lungs.
"SLAYER YOU STUPID SHIT! MOVE!"
But, had she seen this, then perhaps even his mother would forgive him for his filthy language. His vision tunneled as he gazed upon it. His breath was ragged, the spore-ridden air straining in his lungs as he stared at the colossal fungal mass before him. That thing. It had fallen from the ceiling like a fleshy grey meteor, crashing down into the muddy cave floor with such violence that a dust cloud of blue powder lifted from the ground.
"SHIT FUCK! FUCK! I SAID MOVE!"
It … it was a massive Crab, no, the corpse of one! Alongside the Desert Scourge and The Cnidarian, This tremendous crustacean must have been another victim of The Great Witch's attack on the desert sea. As the oceans boiled beneath her brimstone flames, this creature had fled underground to die in the mushroom fields… and now, eons later, its corpse had become host to layers upon layers of parasitic mushrooms. How old was this thing? For how many years had it remained on that ceiling - watching, waiting for bodies to cross its path? Fungus thrived on rot… and as The Guide gazed upon the flourishing mushroom fields, there was no doubt in his mind that the blood of many creatures had been spilled to water this odious garden.
"SLAYER! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!"
It was the size of a small house and likely just as heavy, but The Terrarian wasn't intimidated. He likely hadn't the foggiest idea what he was looking at, but his compulsion drove him to stand against whatever dangerous monster crossed his path. How had they gotten into this mess?! They were supposed to go straight down into the Sunken Sea, but someone had gotten sidetracked and decided to spend some time harvesting glowing mushrooms for potions ingredients. One thing led to another, and the result was this: The two of them had angered a parasitic crab monster, and The Terrarian (who normally handled these sort of violent encounters) was so drugged up - he could barely stand on his two feet.
"RUN YOU IDIOT! YOU CAN'T FIGHT LIKE THAT!"
Right now, his stance was weak and shaky. He could barely lift his bow much less draw a bowstring. The powdery blue spores had yet to clear from his system and his brain struggled to communicate with the rest of him. He trembled and swayed as if meandering between a dream and reality. Yet even in such a state The Guide could feel the bloodlust rolling off of him. That nasty, stinging tingle of one beast facing down another. Only one would walk off this battlefield… and as he was now, The Terrarian was -not- going to win.
Crap, why won't he run?!
It appeared that all of The Guide's yelling had fallen on deaf ears. The Terrarian was standing nose to nose with that fungal monstrosity, and wasn't retreating a step. Had he forgotten he was helpless? Did he realize that at any moment, he'd be smashed into a red stain in the mud? The Guide had no time to ponder the elementary workings of his companion's brain. The Crab was lifting a blackened claw with the clear intention of crushing him flat, and The Guide needed to intervene. He scrambled to his feet, lunged at the other man, seized the back of his armour and, with a mighty heave - threw him.
Phew-
The Guide knew now wasn't the time to admire his feats, but he couldn't help himself. Although The Terrarian weighed next to nothing - he looked just as heavy as anyone else. It was almost surreal watching his companion fly, flailing through the air like a shotput - only to fall out of sight with a splash. The Guide hoped he sobered up quickly and come take over the fight, bec-
*Crash*
"WHOA! SHIT!"
Because he wasn't sure how long he was going to last.
Nurse: You've got a headache?
Guide: yes, it comes and goes.
*Slayer walks in*
G: Ah-ha, there it is.
N:...
S:...?
G: but actually I hit my head really hard. Please help me.
Notes: 1) In the same way the game has 'boss fights' that you enter and exit out of, and running isn't really an option (save recall/magic mirror) T is stuck in any boss fight he finds himself in. Sucks to suck bby. 2) Go listen to Crabulon's theme it's so good. 3) The Old Merchant isn't really evil either. He's a reasonable character as well. 4) Yay politics lmao. 5) Victide armour + Shield of the ocean grant significant buffs while submerged underwater. 6) Babysitting The Slayer sucks.
Thanks for your continued support everyone! ngl I'm having a bit of a difficult time thinking of the little ending skits - but I deffo wanna continue them :thinking_face: if you wanna submit little blurbs in reviews I'd be more than happy to include them at the ends of chapters. tkx and much love.