Pathbreakers: Multiclassing For Fun And Profit

We sweep the loot. Some of the imps had digital cameras on them. The cameras contain pictures of imps posing in front of Washington DC landmarks. Dungeons are weird.

Golem Jefferson dropped a model airplane.

Jefferson Airplane. This model grows into an airplane when activated with the phrase “one pill makes you larger.” It shrinks back down with the phrase “one pill makes you small.” You'll need a pilot and FAA clearance, but the tank refuels while it's small. Just think though, if your Luck was higher you'd probably have gotten the Jefferson Starship.

With a WHOLE DAMN AIRPLANE in my inventory now, I turn to the busted statue of Jefferson and say, “alright, I'll give you a break for being just a man of your time, but you're still my least favorite founding father.” That'll teach him.

Still in Atmos mode, I try flying up and hit an invisible ceiling about 200 feet up. The sky above is filled with stars. I look across the fake DC and see it as it must have been in the 1800s. Small homes and businesses made of brick and wood. No skyscrapers, no office complexes, no museums. The only modern fixtures are the Jefferson Memorial, the Lincoln Memorial, the reflecting pool, the Washington Monument, the White House and the Capitol Building.

I fly back down and find Quins shooting arrows in various directions. His arrows stick into invisible walls in most places, except for the walking path from the Jefferson to Lincoln Memorials.

“It's more boxed in than it looks,” I observe.

Quins holds out a hand and a bundle of arrows appears in it. “Real shame we can't go hit that pub over there.”

I look east and see a pub with lights on inside. A man is in the window, but upon closer inspection, he's very dead. The zombie drinks greedily from a large mug, then wanders away from the front window.

“Probably for the best,” I say, and turn to the walking path. I extend a crooked arm to Mercy. “Shall we?”

She slips her mecha-armored arm in mine and says, “let's!” We begin to stroll down the lane.

Pink petals of the Sakura trees flutter about us, seeming to be capable of passing through the invisible walls without a care. My girlfriend leans her head on my shoulder as we walk.

“What anime has a scene like this?” I ask, knowing my Otaku GF pretty well at this point.

She sighs contentedly. “All of the good ones.”

From behind us I hear Rutger's voice, followed by Madeline.

“I friggin hate lovebirds.”

“That just shows that you haven't been one yet. Give it a chance some time.”

I can hear Rutger's eyeroll. “Not likely. I'm not really anyone's type.”

Mercy squeezes my arm as if to tell me not to say anything. So I don't say that skinny goths are a LOT of people's type. They're going to figure it out eventually.

We finally reach the edge of the Lincoln Memorial and I let go of Mercy's arm. She tugs at my shoulder and I lean down just enough for her to kiss me on the cheek, then she smiles shyly and turns away.

I think I love that girl.

We get back to battle mode. I don't see any monsters but there's red dots on my radar. “Some things are in the reflecting pool,” I inform the team. “No telling what, stay focused.”

We move around the corner of the massive Monument, skirting the stairs. I want to be sure we're not ambushed. “Nothing on radar inside. I'll check to be sure.”

I rapidly climb the stairs and enter the hall of Lincoln. He's big. The statue sits solemnly in a massive chair, hands wrapped around the arms as if he's got to hold on. As if he needs all the stability he can get to endure the greatest crisis any president has ever faced. As if he's got to endure the losses of both sides. As if he has to hold on to something, anything to get through the war.

It's a powerful piece of art. I admire it for a moment, salute, then descend the stairs.

“Clear up there, but you should see it, after we clear this pool.” I get nods. “Jose, you want to...”

Jose aims his rifle at the water and begins to charge. Electricity ripples through the gun for three seconds, five seconds, ten seconds. Then, after 30 seconds of charging he unleashes a massive, 10 foot wide blue-white bolt into the pool. A massive column of water shoots up, along with a flood of tiny, dead fish men.

Fish Man Lobbyist. Tier 1. Alone, this is a joke. Together with their pack, they're technically Tier 6. Their current pack size is [0000]. They gain +10% strength and speed for each ally there is nearby, so watch out for all [0000] of them!

Possible loot: campaign donations, bribes, laws written by corporations that they want you to propose.

There's hundreds, maybe thousands of corpses. Jose fires again to wipe the bodies and we have to wade into the reflecting pool to retrieve the loot.

“Feel like a kid again, takin’ coins from the local fountain,” Quins says.

Madeline laughs as she gathers coins. “We did that too! Were your parents always broke like mine were?”

“Broke as the American healthcare system, luv!”

“Hey!” I say, “maybe leave the greedy corpos out of it when we're literally gathering thousands of dollars.” We'd all taken our boots off and rolled our pants up to wade in. My foot steps on a coin and I try something on a hunch. It works. “You just need to make skin contact to collect coins!” I shout to the group. That speeds up our gathering speed tremendously.

We keep collecting and find some of the other loot, bribes and donations. Both are just briefcases full of gold coins, a couple bars of silver and a handful of gems. One of the gems catches my eye.

Ruby Fire Core. When placed in a weapon, this gem turns it into a Fire-enhanced version of the weapon.

I look around at who really needs it. I settle my gaze on Madeline's new greatsword. “Maddie, here!” I toss her the gem. “Put it in your sword.”

She deftly grabs the gem from the air and unsheathes her giant blade. She seems to study it for a moment, then holds the gem to the pommel. The gem slowly glows brighter before the sword itself shines crimson. The straight cross-guard glows and the arms curve upwards and become sharp at the end, like flame tips. The blade itself turns half red, half black, as if the tip end of the sword is pure smoke. The very edge of the blade glows orange, as if that outermost millimeter is the only thing hot about it.

Madeline waves the sword around a few times and flames erupt along its path, trailing behind it's slashes. Madeline holds her hand over the pommel, the sword stops glowing, the flames dissipate, and she sheathes the new weapon. I scan it.

[Name Unknown]. A dragon steel sword imbued with its natural pairing, Fire Ruby. The blade will serve its master well. After naming it, it also can be called to the hand by saying its name.

“You get to name it!” I say with more nerd excitement than I usually muster. It's the dream of every tabletop RPG gamer to have a named weapon. Not just “+3 Frost Longsword,” but something cool, like Bloodseeker, Scorch Steel, Fire Heart, Meteo Breaker, or-

“I'll name it Chlamydia,” Madeline says.

“Chlamydia?” I ask, incredulous.

Madeline acts like I'm the idiot. “Because it burns.”

I don't know what to say to that. So I just explain Chlamydia's new summoning feature. Madeline tries it once and it works fine.

We continue to loot the pool, enjoying being able to wash our feet and stretch our toes.

Once finished Jose pulls a laundry basket full of towels from his inventory and hands us each one. I hand out fresh socks from a cabinet I've got in my inventory, and with refreshed feet we move on.

We all stop for a quiet moment with Lincoln. Without the crowds and armed guards the effect is even more impressive. This guy, now he was a president. (Still disappointed in you, Jefferson.)

The next stop on our tour is the Washington Monument. It's surrounded by dozens of centaurs. Centaurs with stone antlers coming out of their heads, shoulders and forearms.

“Right,” I say to the team. “Back to business.”

-----

Four Days Ago

Minneapolis, MN

The Saloon

9:45 PM

Rutger was nursing their fourth drink, though only slightly drunk. They'd boosted their Constitution a bit. 20 Constitution meant they got drunk at half the speed of the average person. Rutger being at a small table in the corner meant they were mostly alone. Mostly.

“Rutger!” It was Chaz. Chaz was too bright, in both personality and clothing, for Rutger's tastes. “Oh my gawd! You're back! Those earrings are fab!”

Rutger had to remain goth, cool and aloof, despite being in an upbeat and positive atmosphere LGBTQ+ bar, complete with rainbow flag. “Yeah, I wear them for work now.”

“For work?” Chaz, the local gossip inquired. Chaz needed to know everything, just in case something came in handy. He was like a hoarder, but for personal information.

Rutger debated on answering at all. But their Chill State Lemon Haze had 5mg of THC built into it, so Rutger was feeling relaxed, for once. Maybe for the first time since the Dracosys, honestly.

“You know how the Grand Canyon got cleared?” Rutger said, leaning over to Chaz.

“Oh that's been SUCH a big deal. All those poor little... What are they... Birds or something, I don't know. But they're safe now.”

Rutger was feeling too good to be their normal, secretive self. “Yeah, that was me. My team. Not really my team, Madeline's team. But I'm on it. We cleared it. I'm a Pathbreaker.”

“Honey! Oh my gosh!” Chaz got up on a chair. “Listen everyone! Our little goth is a hero! They're with the Pathbreakers and they cleared the Grand Canyon!”

A round of cheers started up and Rutger got handed several drinks. People started to come over and talk to Rutger. People wanted to shake hands. People wanted to ask about the Mall Of America. People wanted to know if Rutger had magic, and then people wanted a demonstration.

Rutger gave into the night, the people. These were their people. These were those who were different. Those outside the norm. This group accepted Rutger.

Hours later, Rutger got pulled into a Lyft with Rita and Quanta. Rutger wasn't making it home tonight. That was fine. Ever since their sister had died, home hadn't felt like home anyway. They always had a home at The Saloon. With the people there.

Despite their emo demeanor, that was all Rutger really wanted out of life. A home. Not a replacement for their sister. Nobody could replace Rebecca. Nobody shone as bright, not even Chaz. But Rutger still wanted a place to return to at the end of the day.

Rita and Quanta could do for tonight. Rita had a habit of taking in strays.