Dungeon Sniper

Could the Dwarves see in the dark? Probably. They worked in mines, so it was only natural to assume they had some kind of night vision of their own.

But what I had was a Skill, not just eyes. It only took me a fraction of a second to activate the Night Eye. I figured that the Dwarves and their eyes would require more than a few seconds to adjust completely in the dark.

That was my opening.

I could not use the hit-and-run tactic I had used at Mataki's Goblin Lair. Although crowded, this pub was an open space. In the next few seconds, thirty-six drunk Dwarves would swarm over me, and I would suffocate to death even before I could lift my bow.

So the moment the pub had gone dark, I ran to the bar and stood on top of it.

"Mikahlic, you dumbass, I told you this pub needed more than one lamp!" yelled one Dwarf frustratingly.

"It's called running a business the smart way!" croaked the Dwarf crouching in the corner. I guessed he was Mikahlic, the bartender.

The drunk, excited Dwarves were pushing each other and swinging their improvised weapons clumsily.

"Don't move. Stay still until your eyes adjust to the dark!" barked Grangar, the ring leader of this 'group dance.'

"Or somebody get a torch or something!"

"I've got the lamp!"

At that moment, a Dwarf in the back of the crowd stumbled upon the unlit lamp on the table and tried to light it.

The first of the precious twenty arrows shot over the heads of the short crowd and landed right onto the head of the brave lightseeker.

[Skill gained: Pickaxe Proficiency- Focus Hit]

The Dwarf fell and dropped the lamp, its glass shattering on the floor.

"Great, now the lamp is gone. You dozing off in the middle of this? Yo, Timmy, get up!" a Dwarf kicked his fallen, dead friend, obviously oblivious of what had just happened.

"He's been shot, you idiot!" said another Dwarf.

"Oh... no! No! Not our Timothe!"

Did I feel sorry for killing Timmy? No. Not really.

"There, on the bar!" someone finally spotted my silhouette standing tall on the bar.

The Dwarves' visions were returning slowly, and too soon to my liking. An empty glass bottle flew in my way, and I had to duck behind the bar.

"Behind the bar, get him!" yelled Grangar, leading the short-legged gang towards my direction.

In a split second before getting up to fire arrows into the crowd, something caught my eye. Something glowing, and beckoning me to grab it.

Mataki's Blade was sitting on the lower shelf right in front of my face. I grabbed it and stood up, slashing at the first Dwarf that had climbed the bar and came face-to-face with me. The Dwarf screamed and fell off the bar.

[Do you enjoy going up against enemies outnumbered, undersupplied, and unplanned, young hero?]

"Not now, Mataki," I gritted my teeth as I swung the dagger-sword and felled another eager Dwarf climbing over the bar.

At the same time, the splintered end of a mop handle stabbed me through the unguarded side, but my Thick Skin Perk prevented it from piercing my skin. It hurt like hell, though.

[First, you have to get out of here.]

"First, you have to shut up."

Two Dwarves grabbed me this time by the arms. I flailed at them, cut through their stubby hands, blood flowing, and had my leg on the bar and jumped over dozen heads of the swarming Dwarves.

I landed on one of the tables and jumped again, reaching the other side of the bar.

[If you plan to run away, actually jump towards the exit next time.]

"I intend to kill them all."

I fired another arrow towards the crowd. One of the Dwarves got hit in the face and collapsed with a discontinued squeal.

[Skill gained: Explosive Expertise - Level B]

An image of explosives hovered before me for a second before fading away. Even though I had never even touched a bomb before, the mental image of explosives of this world looked familiar. Too familiar even. As if I had seen them just minutes ago—

I turned my head sharply and, there, spotted a few of them stacked near the exit. I did not recognize them earlier. I did now.

[I was a Goblin that loved to kill and hunt, but even I think this is too reckless.]

"You miss me that much, Mataki? I'll let you talk all you want after this is over."

[I am trying to help you, young hero.]

I shot two quick shots to the crowd, but the Dwarves were being smart and had now flipped the tables and hid behind it as giant shields.

"That's right, Human, waste your arrows!" jeered a Dwarf.

"We've got all night to keep this going," growled another.

And they started to throw all kinds of stuff at me, some sharp, some heavy, and some disgusting.

"Really? You had time to take a shit?"

I ducked from another dung missile flying my way. But the smell, the smell was unavoidable. And the dude was throwing the thing bare-handed. Unbelievable.

It was my turn to hide behind a table, shooting futilely at the thick, wooden table shields on the other side and wasting my arrows every other second.

[It looks as if you are having fun.]

"All right, now's your time to contribute. What should I do?"

[Run to the exit, get out, never look back.]

"I mean, would you have?"

[Goblins are hunters, not warriors. We run all the time.]

"Yeah, well, I'm not a Goblin, so."

I was not winning, but I was not losing either. I was one tactic away from victory. I could feel it.

I only had ten arrows now. There were still thirty plus Dwarves more than willing to pluck my head out of my shoulders. With the Miner's Shoulders Perk within me, I knew how strong they were.

My eyes kept darting to where the explosives were piled up. Thanks to the Explosive Proficiency Skill, my brain had already learned the way to ignite it and the way to create the maximum explosion.

I wanted to blow up this place, and fry all the hairy bastards, but two problems remained.

First problem was that there were two exits to this place. I had to seal both of them to contain the drunk Dwarves and kill them in one blow. That seemed almost impossible with how many of them on their side versus how many of just me and a defeatist talking sword on my side.

The second problem was that it still took some time to ignite all the explosives. It took three seconds from ignition to explosion. The ignition process itself was pretty simple. All I had to do was pull the string on the end and wait three seconds for the fuse to burn and trigger the powder chamber. The thing was, three seconds was a short time in most circ.u.mstances. But my Explosive Expertise Skill was telling me that three seconds was also long enough for a skilled miner to break the explosive open and separate the fuse from the powder chamber. I could do it myself and I had never touched the thing before, and it meant at least a dozen other Dwarves in the room could do it too.

If only the powder chamber could not be taken out and stay in its place. If I could stop the Dwarves from breaking the explosives apart... and there was also the time spent between each string pull of the explosives. That was at least an additional second for igniting and throwing. Five seconds for just igniting followed by a consecutive three-second delay. The Dwarves would have enough time to disintegrate the powder chamber and even juggle with them in my face—

No. No, something was off. I was thinking it all wrong.

I did not have time to browse through my Skills and Perks, but one of my recent acquisition sounded so pathetic and trivial at the time I did not even pay much attention...

Pouch Thrower Skill, from Gimford. Now, why did I remember this particular Skill. Something ticked me, made me bring up the Skill. A word, a connection, an application.

I remembered Gimford throwing me the Catcher Powder while hidden in the woods earlier tonight. I remembered how the fine dusty powder rose from inside the open pouch that had landed right at my feet.

Then it hit me. The way to blow up the place without sealing the two doors and also without having to wait eight long seconds for all of the explosives to go off.

With a newly-found sense of purpose, I fired three consecutive shots to the hiding Dwarves, hitting one of them by the protruding shoulders but missing the other two.

"Down to seven arrows, Human," called Grangar from behind one of the tables.

"So you know how to count. Congratulations," I spat derisively, earning myself a splash of a broken bottled wine in my direction. At least, they had run out of crap to throw. Still, I could hear a groan from the far side. Mikahlic, probably.

"I can't wait to stick the empty quiver up your asshole, watch you scream and plead for your life," sneered Grangar. That guy had some issues, seriously.

"And plead for your asshole, because that is going to hurt," added another Dwarf.

"What are you doing, Dunndar? Why you stealing my perfectly threatening line like that?" snapped Grangar.

Meanwhile, they did not run out of stuff to throw at me. The bar floor had gone wet from all the broken bottles with alcoholic contents spilling out over the floor—and that was a clean mess, unlike the few spots that had been splattered with Dwarf shit. I peeked and saw that Mikahlic, the bartender and the owner of the pub, no longer made a dying sound but looked devastated at the sight of what his shop had become in the past few minutes.

Well, the good news was that he would not have the place for much longer to remain so sad about it. The bad news was that he would be dead by then, too. On a second thought, both were bad news for the poor bartender.

Between sporadic, cautionary arrow shots to the Dwarves, I had been busy making something out of the stained, partially wet tablecloth that lay on the floor. I ripped only the dry part into five pieces and when I was done, I rolled the table towards the exit, much to the Dwarves' clamors.

"He's heading for the exit! He's trying to escape!"

"Coward! P.u.s.s.y! D.i.c.kless!"

I fired another arrow to shut them up, this time hitting one right through the open mouth of a particularly foul-mouthed Dwarf. The arrow narrowly missed the brain and did not yield me any Skill gain.

But I was here, right by the explosives. The Dwarves had no idea what I was about to do next. So far, so good.

I reached for the explosives and broke them apart except for one. I took out powder chambers from four of the explosives, poured the powder to the ripped tablecloth pieces and palmed them into something that looked like 'pouches' without closures. They were basically explosive powder on cloths. And they were perfect for my upcoming plan.

Without hesitation, I threw the quasi-pouches in rapid succession into the air and landed them on spots that I had wanted with perfect precision. Gimford, was not totally useless after all, and might he rest in peace knowing that he did indeed help me here at the pub. The cloths were not exactly pouches, so the powder got loose mid-air, which was exactly what I wanted to happen.

Right away, the entire pub gave off the smell of musky, explosive powder that any seasoned miner would notice it from a mile off.

And the veteran miners in the pub did take notice, with everyone abruptly halting their bottle-chucking and looking between them confusingly, wondering about the smell that was not supposed to be there.

"The Human's got the Boom-Boom!" finally someone smart in the group figured it out and cried in shock, and so the panic began, but not before I had pulled the string and ignited the last remaining, the 'wholesome' explosive in my hand. One second had already passed.

"Everybody, get out, NOW!" Grangar yelled, waving his hands and pushing others as he ran to the other door himself.

Two seconds passed, and I threw the explosive towards the dead center of the floor.

I flew myself out of the exit and rolled onto the cold ground.

Boom-Boom. Just like its name. The ground shook and the air shattered.

I kept rolling, until the heatwave sent me afloat and I flew for a good twenty feet in the air across the town.

I flew for what felt like a very long time until hit my head hard against a tree. I slumped onto the ground, passed out for a second, but I came back with a gulp of air and saw the burning remains of the 'Pick X Drink' pub lighting up with the dark sky in the background.

Screams and smells of burnt flesh pervaded the night air, and I sat up with a dizzy head and ringing ears.

[I do not know what to say, young hero. Whether to congratulate you, or condemn you.]

I was still holding on Matki's Blade, and I was too weak to let go of the tight grasp now.

"You're welcome, Mataki. No need to thank me for getting you back."

I slurred a little, and I sounded dumb. I hoped that was just a temporary thing.

I waited for Mataki's voice to talk back, but it did not come. Only a disapproving silence from one ungrateful talking sword lingered there.

"Come on, what would you have done?"

[I would have walked away, as I advised you on multiple occasions.]

"From a fight? Yeah, right."

[This was no fight. This was a massacre. The way you killed hem... Those were civilians that you killed.]

"Civilians who were going to kill me, or worse, sell me as a slave. They even threw me their crap! You saw it too! Besides, you ate civilian Humans all your life."

[I ate them with honor, as the Cycle of Life dictated me. Are you going to eat the dead Dwarves, young hero?]

"Look, I did hit my head on that tree, but not that hard," I scoffed at what I thought to be some lesson-teaching joke from the hypocritic, cannibalistic monster, or its soul, technically.

[So... no?]

"Are you kidding me? Of course it's a no!"

[Then there is no honor, or meaning, in this killing. This is wrong. I should have stopped you earlier.]

I sheathed the blade to shut brooding voice up and got up slowly. The few screams from the ones flung outside the building had died down. I walked around the building and found five burning, unmoving Dwarven bodies scattered around the entrance.

I recognized the big body of Grangar and walked over to him. It did not surprise me that he was still alive, albeit barely. He was burned horribly all over, and his blank, charred eyes stared ahead, seemingly moving on their own due to the fiery shadow cast by the burning building next to us. He was breathing in spasms, twitching here and there between difficult gasps.

I knelt and drew Mataki's Blade, ready to strike through the brain when I felt a strong pull in the other direction.

[No. I refuse to take any more part in this carnage.]

I frowned and was very much tempted to throw the sword to the fire, but I swallowed and put the blade back into its sheath.

Dapper would have been handy, and it hurt to me to think that his last usage was to pick some Dwarf's nose. I had Kitty with me, but I did not like taking a life with a kitchen knife. Some other time, maybe.

Instead, I picked up the partially burnt but fairly intact pickaxe lying around the dead bodies and tested its weight in my hand with a few swings.

Perfectly balanced and feeling comfortable in my hand, the pickaxe swung and landed straight onto the exact center of Grangar's forehead with a loud, ringing cracking sound that felt almost harmonious along with the softly crackling burning noise of the background.

[Skill gained: Mining Mastery - Iron]

After that, Minetown was quiet. Too quiet. There was no one in the huts, and no Dwarf ran out of the mine from the sound of the explosion.

It was probably the loudest assassination of so many individuals with not a single eye witness in the history of the Dungeon. I remembered the one Dwarf that ran out to check on Gimford and three other dead Dwarves at their hut. Did he go back to the mine to report of the murders? Did he faint at the sight of four corpses? Did he come back to the pub just when the explosives went off?

Either way, I was lucky not to face another mob of angry Dwarves chasing after me. Not yet, at least.

Mataki noticed the same absence of commotion, and the blade glowed imperatively in my hand. I held the hilt reluctantly so it could speak.

[Run while you can, young hero. No one has seen you yet, and the ones who have, have all died. You could not be more fortunate.]

I stifled a yawn. My head was banged up, and there could be a mob angry Dwarf miners rushing out to get to me with raised pickaxes and shovels at this very moment. But the whole thing felt like a dream, and I for sure could sleep like a baby right now, right here on the ground. My ears were still muffled, and there was a tranquil, monotonous ring in my ears that could serve as a lullaby. Hell, even Mataki's grisly voice was very close to knocking me out for a deep sleep at the moment.

[This is my last warning. If you think you can take on an entire village of Dwarves—]

"I'll just throw a bomb into the mine before that happens. What do you think?"

That did not sound like me. At the same time, that sounded like a brilliant idea. I might have dreamed that for the brief second that I closed my eyes.

[You are not thinking straight, young hero. You are tired. Find a place to rest, to be sensible again.]

"You know, I still didn't get that 'thank you' for rescuing you from rotting under a bar."

But Mataki was silent, finally. Perhaps for good this time

Even with the burning building grazing my cheek crimson, I shuddered involuntarily as I turned and walked towards the village exit. I had just killed thirty-something Dwarves over some fancy talking sword. Except, that was not the entire story.

Was there a moral lesson attached to the events that occurred tonight? Was I supposed to learn something from this? Feel anything? Repentance? Defining myself? Guilt? Pride? Bombs were awesome, and fried Dwarves smelled awful?

It was clear that I was too tired to think about anything properly at the time. The day would break in a few hours, and I needed a place to hide, to rest.

My ears still rang from the deafening sound of the explosion. My Echolocation was not working properly, and my Night Eye was blurry as well. Stamina had hit rock bottom, and I tried my best to stay discreet as I got out of Minetown. It would be some time before I visited this place again.

Meanwhile, at the moment, I did not know that I was making my name across both the south and around the Delta Region the past couple of weeks. Nor did I know that I was being followed by a trained reconnaissance-scout group.

And I certainly was not aware that I had made so many enemies, as well as friends, all coming in my way, soon to be clashing.