Rebirth: Crawler

THE ENTRANCE TO THE MIDBOSS ARENA WILL SEAL IN THIRTY…

TWENTY-NINE…

Ayn stared dumbfounded at the open door. Sheyric had been the highest level Crawler among them. High level Crawlers didn’t run into a boss fight without a plan.

TWENTY-FIVE…

“Idiot!” Bren said. He stormed through the doorway after the healer.

Kayara grabbed Ayn’s arm, an apologetic look on her face. “He begged me to bring him with me.”

With that, she dashed into the arena, pulling Ayn along.

The smell hit first. Dank, sour, rancid, it made Ayn’s eyes water. The room wasn’t any bigger than the dire spider’s nest. But where webs had choked out most of that room’s space, this one stood clean, minus the thick layer of dark grim and dirt caking the walls.

FIFTEEN…

The dirt in the center of the room spun. A small whirlpool formed, swirling in a tight circle, only to collapse on itself a few seconds later. From the hole crawled the Kennel Master.

SEVEN…

Rotten flesh hung from his corpse in chunks and threads, exposing the mottled muscle, bone, and organs still hanging from his body. He continued to rise until he towered over them all, an eight-foot zombie clad in decaying furs rumored to be bits from all of his dogs that had died. Ayn had thought the lore touching, but as the Kennel Master unsheathed the whip at his side and cackled, Ayn remembered why she no longer did.

Kayara had taken up position behind the Kennel Master, muttering what sounded like a crazed pep talk about dead animals she’d make dead again. Bren stood to the left, as far from the back wall as he could manage. Ayn had lost sight of Sheyric. She slipped a potion free from her belt and downed it.

HEALTH AT 270

TWO HEALTH POTIONS REMAINING

Ayn had wanted to save her potions for the final boss, but she wasn’t about to rely on the party’s sketchy healer.

The Kennel Master grinned, showing a jagged array of black and yellow teeth. The stench increased.

ENTRANCE TO MIDBOSS ARENA SEALED

Ayn drew her sabers and grinned back. “Come on, ugly. Let’s go!”

The Kennel Master’s jaundiced eyes swiveled her way. His whip lashed toward her with incredible speed. For a second, she wished she’d trained to be a true tank class, something with more armor than squish. Then her instincts took over, and she was out of harm’s way and at his feet before the whip cracked. Why take a hit when you could dodge? That had been her mother’s creed, and it worked well enough for Ayn.

Ayn’s blades flashed through the air. Slices of decayed flesh fell from the boss. Bren’s singing set the cadence, and Ayn’s feet and hands kept the tempo. Over, under, away, back in. The fight was easier than she remembered.

The Kennel Master let out a gurgling yell. A cloud of green gas burst from his mouth, settling over the room in a thick mist. Ayn’s breath stuck in her chest. If her nose and throat had burned before, now they were on fire. Her vision blurred as she stumbled, a weak slice in the boss’s direction all she could muster.

A puff of wind parted the haze around Ayn just in time to see a rotting hand collide with her chest.

HEALTH AT 189

Ayn smacked against a wall. The force of the Kennel Master’s hit rebounded through her body and bounced her to the dirt.

HEALTH AT 164

Yeah, she thought. Thanks.

The room spun. Ayn urged her sluggish arms under her. She needed to get up. If the boss hit one of the other party members like that, their run would be over. Stench enveloped her once more. Bren coughed a word she couldn’t understand, and more wind kicked up. It barely made a dent in the smog.

“Come to me, my hounds!”

The Kennel Master’s voice drowned out all else—deep, harsh, and with a resounding clarity Ayn wouldn’t have thought possible considering the hole in his throat.

“Answer your master’s call. Join the hunt!”

The room rumbled. Ayn swayed as the dirt floor rolled and shifted. The sound of stone grinding against stone came from the back, where Ayn hoped Kayara still stood.

The green smog pulled away with a whoosh, sucked into the growing gaps in the back wall. Each gap was a rectangle about three feet across, four feet high and five feet deep. Rusted metallic bars covered the front of every one. Their dimensions echoed their number. Four across, stacked three high. Twelve hidden cages with twelve angry occupants.

Ayn downed another potion.

HEALTH AT 204

One potion left. She really hoped Sheyric joined the fight soon.

“Attack!”

The cage doors swung open at the Kennel Master’s command. Dogs the size of ponies leaped out, their worn fur scattered in mangy patches of brown, black, and gray. Like their master, flesh peeled away to reveal viscera underneath their ancient hides. Zombie dogs. All the stench of a normal zombie, with twice the speed.

Kayara screeched, a sound somewhere between disgust and anger, and struck the lead dog. It burst into glitter. Ayn was suddenly glad the ranger couldn’t harm Miit. The Kennel Master took notice as Kayara worked her way through his pets. He spun, whip at the ready.

Ayn sunk her sabers into his wrist before he finished the maneuver. She wasn’t the acrobatic wonder that Kayara was, but she wasn’t about to play her role as tank poorly.

Thick blood dripped from the wound. The Kennel Master flicked his wrist. Ayn jerked back, too slow, his knuckles scraping across her chest.

HEALTH AT 185

Ayn gritted her teeth. She needed to move faster. Tank or no, her build wasn’t meant to take a ton of hits.

She rolled in time to avoid the whip as it crashed into the dirt. A cloud of grit exploded into the air. Just like that, she couldn’t see again. Adrenaline surged, mingling frustration with excitement until Ayn couldn’t tell the difference anymore. The Kennel Master roared. She laughed. She didn’t need to see the hulk of a zombie. All she had to do was follow the noise. Ayn jumped to her feet and zig-zagged toward the boss. Another whip crack, well off the mark, sounded nearby.

A tiny fireball hit, lighting up the mid-boss’s face in a fiery spotlight. Ayn followed the light. A jump, a twist, and her blades cut across the Kennel Master’s throat and stuck. Ayn had just enough time to realize she’d hit his spine before his mouth opened and green smog poured out. Every muscle in Ayn’s body seized. At a distance, the stench cloud muddled the senses. At close range, it paralyzed. She’d messed up.

The Kennel Master stepped back, bringing his whip to bear on her. This time, she couldn’t dodge. Searing pain slammed into Ayn, driving her into the floor hard enough she was sure she heard bones crack.

HEA—TH—THIR—

Aisha’s warning faded in and out with Ayn’s senses, despite how hard she tried to listen. She needed to know if she was in Near Death. Low health meant a chance to drink a potion, if she could get her body to move. Near Death meant she was at the mercy of Sheyric. Only a healer’s spell would remove the condition and let her get up.

Ayn’s excitement dulled with the ringing in her ears. Her eyes refused to focus, and her body refused to move.

Warmth flowed into her.

HEALTH AT 56

The ringing stopped as the room came back into focus.

HEALTH AT 81

HEALTH AT 106

Strength returned to Ayn’s body. The Kennel Master towered over her, one foot poised to grind her into the dust. In a flash, she was out of harm’s way and back at the boss’s neck, her hands around the hilts of the sabers still buried in his neck. She tore them free and struck down, carving a path through his torso. A bloodless arc yawned open in the wake of her strike. The remnants of the Kennel Master’s organs fell from his exposed guts. His movements didn’t slow, but neither did Ayn’s. She found her center and lost herself to the rhythm of the fight, barely noticing when Kayara joined in.

With his pets gone, a steady stream of fireballs from Bren, and two attackers to divide his attention, the Kennel Master fell quickly.

KENNEL MASTER DEFEATED

TWO ZOMBIE FLESH ACQUIRED

QUEST “COLLECT ZOMBIE FLESH” COMPLETE

“I got the rest from his mangy pets,” Kayara said with a grimace.

Ayn nodded. The System had both a private and public function, giving its information to either a single Rebirth player, a group, or even the entire server. It had its own ruleset for deciding who to tell, and when. Apparently, it had decided yelling at her about Kayara’s quest drops while she was trying not to die was a bad idea. She agreed.

The Kennel Master’s glitter stuck for a bit in the air, then swirled inward until a small vortex formed. The vortex grew thinner, coalescing into a shining, gold chalice that floated a few feet above the ground.

Ayn reached for it. Sheyric got there first, darting in from whatever corner he’d been hiding in to snatch the chalice from the air.

KENNEL MASTER’S TROPHY ACQUIRED

Ayn gawked at Sheyric, her hand still stretched out in front of her.

“Sorry,” he said. “For not healing.”

Although his voice didn’t contain any noticeable remorse, he held out his hands and muttered as if to emphasize his point. Aisha called out Ayn’s rising health until it hit full.

“What the hell, Sheyric,” Kayara said. “You beg me to bring you, only to jump into the midboss’s arms like you have a death wish.”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“Sorry? Really, that’s all?”

“I’m healed now,” Ayn said, forcing a grin. “I’d say that counts for something.”

“Not much if we walk into the boss arena and die before he gets around to healing again.”

“I have to agree with Twinkle Toes,” Bren said. He joined them in the center of the room, a blue potion held in one hand. “I had to use half my mana potions to get through this fight, and the boss is bound to be harder, correct? I won’t be able to serenade you as much as I did this time.”

Kayara glared at Bren. “I think we’re all better off without the soundtrack, Choir Boy.”

Ayn bit back a groan of frustration. Were all groups so distrustful of each other? This was only her second, but the first hadn’t been pleasant, either.

“Got scared,” Sheyric said.

Kayara and Bren turned their attention to the healer.

“Is that why you’ve been so cagey?” Kayara asked. “What are you scared of?”

“Healer’s fault. Always healer’s fault.”

Ayn got the picture. She’d blamed the healer of her mother and father’s group for a long time after their failed Crawl, and she knew she wasn’t the only one to pin blame on the class when things went south. Yet, if Sheyric didn’t enjoy being a healer…

“Why are you still a healer, then?” Ayn asked. “Why don’t you Re—”

“Don’t you dare,” Kayara said. She took a step toward Sheyric. “You told me you wanted to help. You signed up to help. If you wanna off yourself, do it on someone else’s time. The rest of us have a reason to be here, and our healer dying on the first floor isn’t going to scream ‘come join us’ to other healers, now is it?”

Ayn slipped between Kayara and Sheyric. “You’re being a little harsh.”

“And you’re being too soft,” Kayara said. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the local girl sitting alone in the Crawler’s Guild with desperation written all over her face. This—”

“Right,” Sheyric said. “I’m scared. Of healing. Of Rebirthing. Stupid.”

“Not really,” Bren said. “I quite like my life. Rebirthing doesn’t sound pleasant at the moment.”

“Will you heal us during the boss fight?” Ayn asked.

A shard of ice wormed its way through Ayn’s veins. Kayara wasn’t wrong about her desperation, or the death knell having her party’s healer die would be. She didn’t fear Rebirthing, but to have to so soon, before she had a chance to reach her goal, made her chest constrict.

“I…think so,” Sheyric said.

“I’m not sure that’s good enough,” Bren said.

Kayara glanced at Ayn before focusing on Bren. “If we leave now and disband, it won’t look much better than our healer dying.”

Ayn caught the look of pity in Kayara’s eyes. The ranger was lying on her behalf. While leaving in the middle of a floor was impossible on all other floors, the first was designed as a trial. They could cut and run whenever they wanted, and no one would blame them. Had she looked that pathetic sitting in the guild?

“I have others who’d be willing to help me out,” Bren said.

“Good for you.” A growl entered Kayara’s voice.

Bren glanced between his three party members, a slight frown marring his smooth features. Ayn followed Sheyric’s lead and stared at the ground. She was an idiot to think she’d get a party in Cristak. Yet every time she tried to leave, Miit got weaker.

“Fine. You have made your point,” Bren said.

They walked to the boss room in silence. The corridor leading to the Kennel Master stretched down the middle of the floor, with most of the treasure on the left side of the map. Without a quest to push them into the last few rooms and mob groups, there was nothing left but to finish the dungeon.

The boss room door went floor-to-ceiling, two massive wood and iron doors that no one could mistake for anything other than the entrance to a boss fight. A statue sat to one side of the door, its hooded, humanoid shape a close match to Sheyric. The statue held out a hand as if waiting for an offering.

The chalice they’d won from the Kennel Master materialized in Sheyric’s hand as he pulled it from his inventory. Showing the restraint he’d lacked earlier, he stopped in front of the stature and waited.

Silence.

Kayara and Bren both had sour expressions on their face. Neither would look at the other. If they all made it out, and still wanted to be near each other, Ayn would have to figure out why the ranger seemed to hate Bren. For now, it was on her shoulders to get things going.

Ayn nodded at Sheyric. “Do it.”

As soon as the chalice touched the statue’s palm, it came alive, grasping its offering and raising it high in supplication.

The doors lit up in response. White light glowed between each board, lighting up the corridor and leaving stars in Ayn’s vision. The doors groaned and slowly swung inward. This time, Ayn was first through the entrance.

THE ENTRANCE TO THE BOSS ARENA WILL SEAL IN THIRTY…

Stone pillars circled the cylindrical room, creating a geometric spiral with a dais at its center. On top of the dais sat a high-backed wooden chair reminiscent of a throne. A robed skeleton sat hunched over in the chair. Gems sparkled from its joints, in its ribcage, and around its head, their hues shining onto the gray stone floors as if they were lit from the inside.

The rest of the party fanned out behind Ayn. After fighting the Kennel Master, Ayn knew at least Bren and Kayara understood their roles. Kayara was DPS. She’d take any additional mob spawns and hit the boss when she could. Bren would sling offensive spells and try not to get hit. Sheyric…

Ayn turned to give him an encouraging grin she hoped hid the itch of uncertainty crawling in her mind. If he smiled back, she couldn’t see it from under his hood.

Creaking came from the throne. Ayn locked onto her target as the skeleton’s gems flared, bleeding magic into the remains in multiple hues. The skeleton boss stood, eliciting more creaks and cracks from its joints.

ONE…

Its eyes filled with fire, and the fight was on.

Bren’s voice rose in a call to flame, but Ayn knew his spells would not help as much as they did with the Kennel Master. The boss was a mage. It would be resistant to anything Bren could throw at it. Soon, it would summon its minions, occupying Kayara’s blades. Ayn would have to not only tank, but deal enough damage to take the boss out before the party got overwhelmed. It was the ultimate gut check for their fledgling party, and the core tenet of any Crawler. Synergize, or die.

The room around Ayn and the Skeleton Mage faded as her focus homed in. The boss snapped its fingers, the sign for summoning backup. Ayn barely noticed. It wasn’t her job. With a yell, she closed in.

A fireball that made Bren’s spell look like a candle flame shot from the mage’s fingertips without warning. Ayn twisted out of the way on reflex, her swashbuckler class making up for its relatively low defense with a lot more dodge. Heat hissed by, scalding Ayn’s back. Aisha stayed silent. A hit, but a weak one.

Ayn landed in a crouch, re-oriented on her target, and lunged. A shield shimmered to life, encompassing the boss in a bubble. Her first strikes bounced off harmlessly. Her next ones caused hairline cracks to spider-web across the bubble. The Skeleton Mage’s bony fingers flew through a set of arcane hand shapes, and as the shield collapsed, lightning arced from the mage’s hand toward Ayn. She dodged, it followed, a dangerous game of cat and mouse that led her between the pillars and halfway around the room before she stumbled.

Electricity sizzled through her body, white-hot agony leaving a whine in her ears and stars in her eyes.