[SP-F5] Suits of Armor

[Warden 0]

Quest

                                                                                                                         Floor 5 | Fortaleza

Warden had fought in a desert once. He remembered an endless expanse of orange sand under a blistering sun. Heat waves distorted their view, and wind kicked up sand in their faces. They were never clean, never comfortable. Water was precious. Arid conditions made it more valuable than gold. They were constantly overdressed for the weather, but could never strip at the risk of being burnt by the sweltering sunrays. The heat got to his team. They were antisocial due to fatigue. The only audible sounds were the wind and their feet crunching the sand while they walked.

It was hell, and yet he was back.

At least, in Fortaleza, he was not a soldier. He dressed the part of the warrior, but had no intention of being one. Heavy armor from head to toe, without the slightest bit of skin showing. Nobody could hope to tell what he looked like beneath the bronze helmet. His sword and shield were both attached to the back of his armor. They were well-crafted, but did not suit him. The sword was strong, but too light. He could wield it fine, but found it difficult to reach his full potential while swinging. His slashes felt weak, and the impact was not nearly as damaging as he believed it should have been. The shield was better, although not by much. It was too small, and covered either his chest or his legs. He couldn't have both.

Not that it mattered. His armor would protect him from the brunt of most strikes. Attackers tended to be weak on the lower floors; there was nothing that could breach his iron defense.

He found his target inside of a recently setup tent. She greeted him upon his arrival, curious about the well-armored man. "Why, hello there," the Gypsy said. "What brings you in today?"  

 

[ lv. 1  ->   l. 1 / p. 0 ] Warden | HP: 20/20 | EN: 20/20 | DMG: 4 | ACC: 3 | THORNS: 18 | LD: 3 | TAUNT | PHEROMONES   Hide contents notes. #   Hide contents equipped Vanguard's Sword ACC III Vanguard's Heavy Plate MIT III Vanguard's Shield THORNS II, TAUNT battle-ready inventory # skills.   Hide contents mod count: 0/5 STRAIGHT SWORD | RANK 1/5 extra # buffs.   Hide contents statue # consumables  Lavender Cream Tea | Pheromones Gelato | LD III paragon # arts.   Hide contents en cost matches multiplier unless stated otherwise. shift underlined. ST | x12 -> x15 | x20 AOE | x15 -> x18 TECH-A | x12 | STUN | 13EN TECH-B | x12 | DELAY TECH-D | x12 | SHATTER TECH-F | x8 | AOE STUN  TECH-G | x12 | BURN misc.   Hide contents # housing secondary profession #

Edited August 5 by Warden

[Warden 0]

"You are the beast tamer?"

It came out more like a statement than a question. The gypsy nodded, identifying herself as the traveling merchant who specialized in the taming of familiars. She went from floor to floor, and it set her apart from other NPCs. It was a rarity to find her on the first try. Warden had gotten lucky.

"I'd like you to teach me to tame a beast of my own," his voice was muffled through his metal helmet, but still fully audible.

"You've come to the right place. I'd like to say that taming familiars is an art, a skill that you can master, but a lot of it comes down to luck and perseverance. If a critter really likes you, they'll show it. It won't be difficult to tame the right one."

Warden did not reply. Unreadable behind the armor, the gypsy tried a different approach. "Here," she said, "take these."

In her hand was a small, cloth bag filled with brown food pellets. She explained that she used them to entice creatures and to form relationships with them. "Animals like food as much as we do. These should help you tame your beast."

She placed them in his open palm, but he hesitated to accept. Something about the woman seemed off, as if she were hiding something from him.

"What's the cost?"

"I don't take col," she smiled. "Call it a favor."

[Warden 0]

Warden took the bag of food pellets despite her unconvincing answer and ducked out from underneath the tent. He didn't thank her because he didn't trust her. Traveling long distances in his armor was difficult and uncomfortable, and the desert sun would only amplify that. Before he could begin his search, he would need a form of transportation.

Fortaleza had a few options. Caravans moved between cities regularly and charged very little with no questions asked. He could take one from the city and hop off while crossing over El Paso del Diablo, avoiding the fee altogether. He wasn't above such things, and they would not notice that he had left until reaching they're destination.

Of course, it would leave him in the canyons with no real way back to town. Both Saharda and Fortaleza were a long walk, and if the caravaneers did realize what he had done, they would have the chance to turn back and catch him. It posed some risks.

Alternatively, there were rental horses, donkeys, and camels in Fortaleza, but at a much higher price. He wasn't sure he could afford to take one for the day, but a camel would come in handy.

What swayed the decision was his weight. The armor that he had purchased was heavy, as was the rest of his equipment. The stablemaster told Warden that none of the animals he had on hand would be able to carry him.

So, he boarded a caravan.

[Warden 0]

"That's right. We're headin' to Saharda in a moment. If you're comin', ya'd best get settled. Not long now," a caravan driver stated as he loaded things into the back. It was a packed ride, mostly with crates. It was pulled by two camels, each mounted by an NPC. They wore loose clothing and covered their heads in bandage-like rags. Goggles were raised to their foreheads and used when sandstorms hit. The desert was a dangerous place, but these two were prepared. At their waists were curved swords that Warden did not recognize.

"In you go!" The other driver shouted from the front. They were climbing atop their camels now, ready to set off. Warden climbed into the back, taking a seat beside a stack of produce crates. They carried all kinds of goods, ranging from arms, to medicine, to food. He squeezed in without damaging any boxes or items and gave the bench a loud knock to let the NPCs know that he was ready. They had quoted him high for the trip, probably hoping that they could swindle a low-leveled player who didn't know any better. Unfortunately for them, he had no intentions of paying.

[Warden 0]

                                                                                  Floor 5 | El Paso del Diablo

The sun could not peak over the wall of the canyon, giving the caravan shade. It was far cooler than the rest of the floor, but also housed many of the floor's deadlier monsters. Giant snakes, hyenas, and golems all spawned in El Paso del Diablo, and each one was difficult to kill. The hyenas moved in packs, targeting weak and small prey. The rattlesnakes had thick skin, and could burrow into the ground. They camouflaged expertly with the rocky walls and sandy floors. It was common for travelers to step on them by mistake, only to find themselves constricted or bit with toxic fangs. Their venom was valuable; many merchants in the floor's major settlements would buy it from you, for the right price. The golems were the worst of the bunch. How did you kill what was essentially a big rock? With a lot of difficulty. They were heavy and slow, but hit three times as hard as the other mobs on the floor. Sometimes, they would cluster together in groups and mindlessly walk the canyon until a player strong enough came by and cleared them out.

There were more creatures as well, but they were less harmful. Armadillos could be found, but they were generally neutral animals that liked their privacy. There were bugs as well, although they were far too small to cause any harm and had no stingers or venomous bites to threaten a player.

By the time the caravan had reached the canyon, Warden was sick of it. The ride was bumpy and his seat had grown to be uncomfortable. They had stopped three times on the way because of monsters in their path and issues with the camels. While they rode, he listened to a conversation that they thought was hushed.

"Can't waste much more time. It'll be nightfall soon, and crossin' over in the dark's a bad idea. I reckon it'll take us about three hours to meet with the boss, load up the cargo, and haul it back to Fortaleza," one caravaneer said.

"We can't wait until morning," argued the other. "The cargo must be delivered today."

"I'm saying that it may not be possible for us to deliver it today. It took them days to scout out that camp and we lost a man raidin' it. It ain't worth tryna cram in another delivery if it means we'll be travelin' by the stars. If the rattlesnakes and hyenas aren't bad enough for ya, try specters!"

"There are no specters in El Paso del Diablo. Drunks tell tales, and you're foolish enough to listen."

"Believe what you wanna believe—I ain't leavin' tonight. We'll pack up the stash when we get to town and camp out 'till sunrise."

Warden had heard enough. He no longer felt bad for scamming the pair. They were thieves, and probably murderers. They may not have been directly involved the crimes they unknowingly confessed to, but the evidence of smuggling stolen items was right in front of him. As quiet as a ghost, he stepped off of the caravan, landing in the sand with a messy roll. Behind him, the thieves and their goods rode away.

Edited August 6 by Warden

[Warden 0]

Alone at last, Warden scanned his surroundings. On the surface, the canyon looked empty. Not even the wind stirred, and once the caravan left his view, the world was quiet. He pulled his shield from his back, but for the time being, left the sword where it was. It was difficult to say what he was looking for. He needed a familiar that was strong and reliable. He had considered the offspring of some of the more common El Paso del Diablo mobs, but concluded that they did not suit his fighting style. The snakes were fast, but lacked the defensive capabilities that he was looking for. The golems were tanks but against a quick opponent, they would never land a hit. He would need to look deeper, and more carefully, for a creature more rare.

He had heard rumors of wyrms and dragons stopping by the canyon. It wasn't impossible that one was there in that moment, resting before moving on to wherever it was heading. A small one would work well as a familiar, although he worried about interfering with parent-child dragon relationships. He was not equipped to deal with an angry mother.

[Warden 0]

Walking through the canyon proved to be far easier than other parts of the fourth floor. The shade kept him from overheating, even in his heavy armor. He kept up his guard, but saw no significant mobs along the way.

What he did see was a rest post. Horses and camels refueled at the edge of the campsite. Tents were setup in a large radius along the trail. NPCs gathered around unlit fire pits; some chatted, but most were silent, biding their time until nightfall. There was a station setup for food, for those who didn't have any left. The full distance between Fortaleza and Saharda was difficult. Brokers had told him the stories of El Paso. He knew that the journey was hailed as a "rite of passage." What he didn't know was why. What was the point of it?

There was room at a fire pit, so Warden chose to rest with a few others. They welcomed him in, each one tired from their long journeys. Some had come even further than Fortaleza. There were small settlements across the floor than most had never heard of. 

"I'm from Varentia. It's a small trading village west of Fortaleza," one man said. He was gruff, but friendly. "Where're you coming from?"

"Fortaleza," Warden answered succinctly.

The man only nodded, not prying any further. "Long way to Saharda from here. We're not quite at the half way point yet. Another day, if all goes to plan."

Warden said nothing. He stared at the unlit tinder and waited for night with the rest of travelers.

[Warden 0]

By night, most had gone to sleep. The desert was cold without the sun's embrace, and Warden learned that the hard way. He was the only one without a tent, and his armor could only keep him so warm. Another wanderer had left him a blanket that he draped over his legs. He sat alone by a fire, kept aflame with dry desert plants and grass. It was subpar, but without proper firewood, he could not have done much better. Cicadas chirped all around, rhythmically. Their song was peaceful, but interrupted by rumbling in the mountainside.

It felt like a landslide, which would not have been a surprise to any of the campers. The canyon was known for falling rocks and crumbling cliffs. It was a danger that they could only hope to avoid. From above, however, no rocks shifted. Warden drew his sword and shield, as did a few others the shaking had woke. A rugged man with a longsword peaked out of his tent. "What in the-"

From the wall of the canyon came a giant rattlesnake, its fangs bared as it burrowed out of the rubble. Two more came from the opposite side, and another from the trail itself. "Snakes!" An NPC banged his sword against his shield and shouted to wake his comrades. More and more travelers exited their tents, with weapons drawn and armor donned.

They outnumbered the rattlesnakes, but the sheer size of them outclassed the group of NPCs. Warden took initiative, charging at the furthest snake and impaling it with his blade. He sliced up, cutting a wound large enough to fell the serpent. Another attacked him from the flank, biting hard but failing to pierce his heavy armor. He smacked it with the face of his shield, dazing it. Two people, one with a sickle and the other with a spear, circled behind it, striking and slashing until eventually, it died as well.

"Hold them back!" The rugged man called, leading the rest of the group against the remaining three rattlesnakes. In the campsite, a few bodies laid limp, covered in sand and blood. "Go, go, go!" he shouted, and a wave of NPCs bombarded the serpents together. The mobs would not go down without a fight, however, and five more men and women were killed before they were finally taken down.

How quickly a night of peace could turn to a night of bloodshed. Some of the camp's tents had been destroyed in the battle. Warden's fire had been extinguished by one of the snakes. Those who survived hid away in their plots like nothing had happened. They must have been accustomed to the violence, being on the road for so long. How many times had they seen such atrocities? Corpses had begun to disappear around them. Warden decided that he would do the same.

Early that morning, before sunrise, he untied a horse from the makeshift stable. The caravan would pass through in another day. It was time he moved on. The rugged man rose before the rest, catching Warden in the act.

"That horse ain't yours, y'know."

He wasn't accusatory, nor would he stop Warden. The rugged man was giving him a chance to do so himself.

"I know," Warden said, mounting the horse. His cursor changed to orange, temporarily branding him a thief.

[Warden 0]

Warden galloped through the canyon upon the stolen horse, the sound of hooves echoing off the towering rock walls. The canyon was narrow and winding, with sheer cliffs rising on either side, casting long shadows in the growing light of dawn. The sleek black stallion, snorted and tossed its head, quickening its pace.

The route ahead proved difficult, littered with rocks and loose sand. Warden's eyes scanned the narrow trail, searching for both signs of danger and of potential familiars. A sudden rustle of pebbles to his right made him tense. Warden’s hand instinctively went to the hilt of his weapon as he scanned the cliffs for movement. It was probably just the wind, but in the desert, you could never be too careful. He urged the horse onward, the stallion responding with a burst of speed.

The canyon widened slightly, and he spotted a narrow stream trickling through the rocks. Warden slowed the horse to a trot, allowing it to drink while he scanned the area. The gentle burbling of the water and the occasional call of a canyon bird were the only sounds that broke the silence. Warden’s nerves were on edge, but he knew he needed to keep moving.

The stallion lifted its head, water dripping from its muzzle, and Warden nudged it onward. The canyon's twists and turns seemed endless, each one revealing another stretch of rocky path. The air was cool, but the rising sun promised a hot day ahead. Warden knew he had to find shelter before the sun reached its midpoint, both for himself and the horse.

As he rode, he noticed tracks in the sand—hoof prints and wagon wheels. The caravan had passed through safely, and without noticing his disappearance, it seemed. His quietness, so often a vice, worked in his favor this time.

The path ahead narrowed again, and Warden found himself in a small, open area. He scanned the surroundings, noting the lack of recent activity. It seemed this part of the canyon was less traveled, which could work to his advantage. He dismounted, letting the horse rest while he took a moment to drink from his canteen and study his map. He popped open his menu and zoomed in on his location. Then, he looked a short distance ahead.

Suddenly, a shadow passed overhead. Warden looked up to see a large bird circling high above. A scavenger, he thought, or a predator. He did not want to stay long enough to find out.

Edited August 7 by Warden

[Warden 0]

Warden rode on, the canyon's twists and turns becoming more familiar the further he traveled. The sun continued to rise, casting a golden glow over the canyon walls and making the shadows retreat. The temperature began to climb, and Warden knew they needed to find shelter soon.

As they rounded another bend, Warden spotted something unusual up ahead. A narrow opening in the canyon wall, almost hidden by a cluster of desert shrubs. It looked like a cave. He approached cautiously, scanning for any signs of recent activity. The rattlesnakes from the night before had emerged from the canyon walls. For all he knew, this was an entrance to their burrow. Inside, it was dark and cool. Warden dismounted and led the horse inside, the stallion's hooves echoing softly against the stone floor.

He tethered the horse near the entrance, where it could graze on whatever grass was capable of existing in the arid climate, and ventured deeper into the cave. The light from outside filtered in just enough to reveal the rough, uneven walls and a dusty floor. It seemed the cave had been abandoned for some time. He found a spot near the back where he could sit and rest, his back against the cool stone. As he settled down, he pulled out his canteen and took a long drink, savoring the refreshing water. It was nearly empty.

A faint noise from the cave entrance drew his attention. Warden tensed, his hand moving to his weapon. The stallion snorted nervously, its ears flicking back and forth. Warden rose slowly and calmly. A figure appeared at the entrance, silhouetted against the bright light outside. Warden's grip tightened on his weapon as the figure stepped into the cave. It was a man, dressed in worn desert garb, his face covered by a rags to protect against the sun and sand.

"Easy there," the man said, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. "I'm not looking for trouble."

Warden didn't relax his guard but allowed the man to approach. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice echoing in the cave.

"Name's Otho," the man replied, pulling down his coverings to reveal a weathered face. "I'm a traveler, like yourself. Saw your tracks and figured you might need some company—or at least a warning."

Warden's eyes narrowed, but he remained silent.

"Raiders," Otho continued grimly. "A group of them passed through not two days ago. They’ve been attacking rest stops and campsites. I barely escaped with my life."

Behind his helmet, Warden raised a brow. "How far away are they?" he asked.

"Who knows," Otho said. "They move fast."

Warden considered his options. Staying in the cave provided temporary safety, but if the raiders were nearby, then he needed to move. He glanced at the stallion, then back at Otho. "I'll be leaving soon. Once the sun moves west."

Otho nodded in agreement. "Mind if I join you? Safety in numbers and all that."

Warden hesitated but then nodded. "Fine."

[Warden 0]

The sun sank lower and the shadows of the canyon returned. Warden conserved his energy, resting at the back of the cave. Otho, who had been making himself comfortable near the entrance, seemed to be preoccupied with his own gear. They didn't speak, mostly because Warden wouldn't answer.

Unbeknownst to Warden, Otho’s intentions had shifted. He had been watching Warden closely, waiting for the right moment to reveal himself. Under the cover of darkness, Otho quietly approached, his movements careful and deliberate. He reached for a small blade hidden within his tattered cloak, the glint of steel barely visible in the low light.

As Otho neared Warden, who remained unaware of the imminent threat, he prepared to strike. His heart pounded as he approached the armored man. With a sudden lunge, Otho aimed to catch Warden off guard. Warden, sensing the disturbance, reacted swiftly. His armor clanked as he moved, and he drew his weapon.

Throughout the cave, the clash of steel echoed. At the entrance, the horse snorted anxiously.

[Warden 0]

The cursor above the NPCs head passed right by the orange that Warden donned and settled on bright red. He was a raider, Warden realized, who probably hid out on the cliffside waiting for a straggling passerby to stop for shelter. It was no wonder they hadn't passed on the road. He hadn't seen Warden's tracks at all.

Their blades were locked together, and the raider out leveled Warden by a small bit. In a desperate attempt to take control of the fight, he headbutted Otho, dazing him with his hard iron helmet. Then, he gave him another smack with the front of his shield, knocking him down.

With one hand, he thrust his blade into Otho's chest and watched as his health bar dropped to zero. He stumbled back, winded by the suddenness of it all. Otho's body disintegrated, leaving nothing behind. He marched back to his horse and left the cave behind.

[Warden 0]

The desert wind picked up. He wondered if more of the Otho's raiders were nearby, or if they really were long gone. No more had ambushed him in the cave. He was in the clear, for the time being. Staying on horseback gave him an advantage, at least. So long as he had shade, he and the stallion could continue to race through the canyon. According to his map, he would arrive at another rest stop by midnight. They could take shelter there for the night and continue their search in the morning.

On the surface, a sandstorm brewed. He was safer than he would have been outside, but still, it forced its way inside of the canyon. His helmet blocked most of the debris that the wind kicked up at them, but he worried for the horse.

A cluster of boulders lay up ahead. He cursed, realizing that it was their only opportunity to evade the sandstorm. He lead the horse towards them and they took shelter behind the rocks, as if they were shields.

[Warden 0]

His contents of his canteen had been reduced to drops. He stroked the mane of the seated horse, and fed it the last of his water. It needed the drink far more than he did.

The sandstorm picked up, and Warden could barely see a thing. It was good that they had stopped while they had the chance. They would not have made it much further in the storm.

From the depths of the unexpected weather came a little ball, rolling through flying rocks and sand. Warden squinted, trying to get a good luck at what it was. A boulder, maybe? But it was rolling too quickly. It approached him, and he lifted his sword, confused.

Then, it jumped through the air, making contact with his chest. He wheezed from sheer surprise. The ball landed a few feet from him and unwrapped itself, revealing its true identity. 

It was a pangolin.

[Warden 0]

Its shell was spikier than an armadillo; it had scale-like armor that covered the majority of its body, the perfect defense against predators. It stood there, staring at Warden, and through his helmet, he stared back. He could not tell what the creature was thinking, nor why it had rammed him. Accustomed to the arid climate, the pangolin was capable of maneuvering the sandstorm. It could roll up into its ball form and move around endlessly, without worrying about injury or attacks. Its shell was impenetrable.

Warden realized that it was the familiar he had been searching for. A beast with a suit of armor as dense as his own; a perfect match. Carefully, so he did not scare the critter away, he reached into his inventory and withdrew the pellets the gypsy had given him. He tossed one in front of the pangolin, and watched as it examined the little ball of food.

Spoiler

POST ACTION | Searching for Familiar (LD: 15+)

ID224653 | ld19+3=22

FAMILIAR FOUND!

 

[Warden 0]

It nibbled at the food pellet, appearing to enjoy it thoroughly. The beast tamer had not mentioned what the items were made from, but he supposed it didn't matter. If it worked, it worked. He reached out another ball after the pangolin was finished, this time keeping it in his palm. The creature stepped forwards cautiously, sniffing his hand for a moment before indulging in the snack.

As it finished the food pellet, a quest prompt appeared before Warden. The pangolin had been tamed. He had successfully found his familiar. Cardinal requested that he chose a name for his new friend. "Minzi," he said as he typed his letters into the console. "You'll be Minzi."

He didn't take much time to think. He didn't need to. It was a name he cherished, from his childhood. He remembered his dog, who had passed on far too young. He was called Minzi as well. It meant protector.

Spoiler

POST ACTION | Taming Familiar (CD: 9+)

ID224654 | ld10+1=11

FAMILIAR TAMED

 

[Warden 0]

When the sandstorm passed, they moved along. Minzi, who found it difficult to sit atop the horse, took comfort in Warden's armor. It curled up into its ball form and hid inside of his chest piece, where it fit perfectly. That was the benefit of a small body. 

They rode to the next rest stop, where they would take shelter for the night. This time, there were fewer people. The further the travel, the less NPCs they would encounter. It was a dangerous road through the canyon. Not everyone would make it to the end. By a fire pit, he spoke to a young couple as they shared a meal.

"We've all heard of the raiders. They wait for small groups or stragglers to pass by, then they rob them," the boy explained. "Usually, they end up killing them too. They have a camp on the outskirts of Saharda. The city knows about them, but they won't help. They profit too much off of the stolen goods that the raiders sell."

"How far are we from the city?" Warden asked.

"Half a day, I think," the girl said.

"Will the two of you show me the way to the camp?"

[Warden 0]

The couple looked to each other nervously. They hesitated, the boy even shaking his head, but the girl eventually spoke up for the both of them. "Yes, in exchange for some col."

Money was always the answer. Invisible to them, Warden rolled his eyes, paying them a small fee. "We ride in the morning."

He camped in an extra tent that a traveler had. He stripped off his heavy armor for the first time in days, leaving his helmet out for Minzi to sleep in. With an exhausted sigh, he dropped onto the sleeping mat and drifted away.

Sleep took him faster than ever, and morning came even quicker. He let Minzi rest while preparing his gear, only waking him when it was time to go. The NPC couple were already standing by their horses, waiting for the arrival of Warden. "Ready to go?" The boy asked.

Warden nodded, mounting his stolen horse with his familiar back in his chest armor.

[Warden 0]

Before they could judge whether or not half a day was a good estimate, they were interrupted on the road. A distant wagon approached, and Warden only recognized it when they passed each other. Brief eye contact between him and the drivers led to swords being drawn and transportation being dismounted.

"You again!" The older caravanner scowled.

Warden would not have spoken had he been given the chance. The younger of the two camel riders charged at him, but Warden saw it coming. He knocked the NPC back and watched as he was trampled by a terrified horse.

"One down," Warden said from behind his helmet. Slowly, he approached the remaining caravan driver, who had dropped his weapon in a panic. A swing of his greatsword cut the old man down like he was made of butter. The NPC couple watched in fearful awe as Warden defeated two of the raiders' mailmen.

[Warden 0]

"The loot inside of the cart," Warden told the couple. "It's yours. Find a way to take it with you, wherever you're headed. Use it to make some extra col."

"What about the rest of the trip?" The boy asked.

Without answering, Warden abandoned the pair, leaving them to dig through the crates of treasure, food, water, and so much more. He moved on alone, determined to find and destroy the camp of raiders.

---

He discovered them a few dozen kilometers from Saharda. It was a small camp, with what looked like four or five raiders total. It could not have been their main base of operations. Warden watched from afar, studying their moves. They had a watchperson on at all times, rotating every hour or so. It would be difficult to sneak past in broad daylight. "We'll wait for night," he told Minzi, who rested in the sand beside him.