“It’s too bloody wet in here!” Valka griped for what felt like the hundredth time that day. He wasn’t wrong. The Herne’s Grove dungeon was located upon a small islet at a place where the Ulcite River widened like a bulging muscle. They had found a fisherman willing to ferry them across to the islet for a few copper and he had even lent the party his rowboat for the trip back. Herne’s Islet was covered in a persistent mist that had also found its way into the dungeon soaking the trees, ground and moistened the air enough so that every breath was like taking a drink of water. Davros hated it.

  “It’s in my lungs,” I coughed. Even my trait didn’t seem to have any countering effects against the discomfort. I wasn’t cold, but my robes had quickly soaked through.

  “This mist is saturated in Water Mana. This may not be the best place for Davros, Valka.” That had been Anya’s argument several hours ago when they first entered the Dungeon, but since then Davros had been able to hold his own.

  So far, the enemies had consisted mainly of Forest Sprites who liked to hide within bushes and behind tree limbs. They were no more than a foot or two in height with wings like dragonflies. Valka quipped that they looked like miniature Elves with pointy haircuts, which earned him a dirty look from Anya. Their warriors tended to fire tiny arrows while their casters created circular pits of mud beneath their feet, which slowed them enough to make them easier targets for the warriors. Davros was beginning to feel guilty after turning yet another score of them into burning balls of screaming char.

  “This is harder than I thought it would be,” Anya gasped after freeing herself from yet another sucking mud pit. The four of us were covered head to toe in mud. My robes could no longer be recognized as red and the armor of both the lieutenants was scoured with mud and the telltale signs of the beginnings of rust were visible around the edges of their vambraces and pauldrons.

  “I’m just grateful the [Burning] debuff still works despite all the water,” I said. I was still hitting each target I aimed for, but I had also begun to encounter Water Shields erected by the casters. These were Mist Callers and they were extremely annoying. Yet, it was here that my decision to upgrade to Combustion Bolt was proving itself a wise choice.

  When my bolt encountered its first Water Shield, the Mist Caller had held aloft a glowing hand full of water mana. The creature had grinned fiercely at me displaying sharp canines. My bolt splashed against its shield causing ripples across its surface like I had dropped a pebble into a lake. Had it been one of my pre-upgraded bolts, that would have been the end of it. My upgrade delivered a different outcome.

  The initial direct attack of the bolt was still absorbed, but not the burning splash damage. It reminded me of a time at the Orphanage when a group of us had been tasked with painting the dining room wall. One boy had said something to another boy they didn’t like. A wad of paint had been flung in retaliation, but the boy had avoided the paint by ducking behind a door, yet paint splatter had still gone everywhere. Droplets of burning fire were flung to each side of the Mist Caller’s shield and landed upon its fellows, much as the secondary paint splash had landed upon us.

  The damage I was doing was more than adequate, which was fortunate for us as the Sprites were content to keep Valka at a distance as he tried again and again to engage with them despite his repeated failed attempts to taunt them closer. Even Igvild was having trouble as they would hover just out of his reach. It was up to Anya and I to bring down most of them for the other two to deliver the coup de grace.

  “At this point, I’d just like to find a cave or some sort of cover so that we can dry off.” Valka griped and he cleared his nasal passages by first holding one knuckle to a nostril and blowing then repeating for the other.

  “At this point, I’d like to forget I just witnessed you doing that,” Anya replied dryly.

  I smiled in spite of myself. Despite the environmental challenges this dungeon was sending our way, I was happy to be here with my friends. I was curious about one thing however.

  “Valka, why did you set the loot rules to whatever Rolling Dispersement means?” I had been wondering about this ever since I had felt the knapsack I had slung over my back growing slightly heavier in weight. Valka sighed.

  “It is deserved. Each of us is taking on an equal risk so the rewards should be equal. Besides, your Fortune has already brought us so much loot that I’m starting to get worried about being knifed in an alleyway. Should word somehow slip out over what I’m carrying, some old grandmother might even try to mug me! This way, all of you can start looking over your shoulders too.” Valka looked over at Igvild. “I also sent you the Sonic Dagger, Igvild. May it serve you well.”

  That brought a smile and a nod from Igvild. Anya snorted and rolled her eyes.

  “Congratulations, Igvild.” I said with a smile.

  “General Torlack will receive the bulk of what Valka and I bring, but we both believe there is no reason you and Igvild should not have the opportunity to upgrade your equipment, especially if you want to survive a solo dungeon run, Davros.” Anya said. I shared a look with Igvild and the Dwarf winked.

  “I appreciate it. I’d like to earn enough coin to be able to buy one of those Spatial Sacks that you carry, Valka. I can see my shoulder getting sore if I have to start carrying too much.” I patted my knapsack. It was another Czak soldier hand-me-down and it had seen better days.

  “He’s complaining about his shoulder getting sore from all the loot he’ll have to carry! By the Eye, Anya! Stop me before I smack the other side of his face sideways!”

  They continued walking, following a path through the wet wood to what Davros assumed was the center of the islet where the dungeon Boss was located. As it had been with Bleakhollow Holler, it was difficult to tell what time of day it was. The mist filled gloom muted everything into a perpetual gray. The shapes of the trees cast strange shadows that if it were not for Davros’ ability to see enemies outlined in red, he would have been throwing bolts at every strange shadow or rustle of branches he saw.

  “Something ahead. It’s large.” Valka whispered as he came to a stop. I looked over Valka’s shoulder as I was directly behind him. I wasn’t close enough for the creature to be a viable target for my magic, but I could see the large blotch of brown fur Valka had spotted.

  “A bear?” I whispered just loudly enough for Valka to hear.

  “Maybe,” he answered. The creature stood up on its hind legs to turn around and face us. It wasn’t a bear.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “Damn! I think that’s a…”

  “Owlbear.” Anya finished for him.

  The creature had the body of a bear and the face of a wizened owl, but what drew my eye was the blood and gore stains around its beak. It was in the middle of a meal and was aware of our presence.

  “I’ll tank it. Anya, just focus on healing. Igvild, I’ll try to give you an opening to hamstring it. Slowing it down will be key. Davros, try to blind it if you can. Anything to put it at a disadvantage. This will be a fight of attrition, not skill. Make ready!”

  Saturated Owlbear

  Level 11

  I had no time to ask if this beast possessed any abilities I should watch out for as it tore up the ground charging us. Its screeching cry cut the air like a sword and I had to stop myself from throwing a bolt straight at its beak to shut it up. Valka had to first establish himself as the primary threat or I would be torn to pieces by claws that must have been as long as Igvild’s daggers.

  Valka surprised the Owlbear and us by sidestepping the beast as it was about to bowl him over. This may have left the rest of us at the Owlbear’s mercy, but Valka activated a new ability I had never seen him use before.

  “Grounding Riposte!” Valka shouted as he slashed along the Owlbear’s exposed side. In an instant, the Owlbear’s head slammed into the ground as if pushed down by a great weight, its feet going out from under it. The beast roared in surprise and pain.

  “Hit it now!” Valka yelled as he slashed again, this time into the feathery ruff encircling its neck.

  Igvild moved first by disappearing then reappearing behind the downed beast. His right dagger stabbed downward, cutting into one of the Owlbear’s back legs. I raised a finger and fired a bolt at the creature’s wide eyes. My bolt hit between its eyes where I had been aiming, burning splash damage splattering into both its eyes. I cursed as the Owlbear’s damp hide countered the [Burning] debuff and the flames were snuffed out almost immediately. I now understood why it was called a Saturated Owlbear. Its fur was as soaked as my robe.

  The beast screeched even louder as it tried to lift its head from the ground, but none of us let up. Valka slashed, Igvild stabbed, I shot bolt after bolt and Anya chanted the words to a spell that kept the Owlbear from running away, but she hung back, obeying Valka’s orders to remain on healing duty. It was fortunate she did.

  The Owlbear was even larger up close. It was easily the same size or greater than a regular bear. While its body had a thick coat of fur, it possessed the plumage of an Owl around its face, neck and along its upper back. Its beak looked razor sharp, capable of rending every inch of skin off my body. I would have been content to just marvel at it had it not been glaring at us with intense hate.

  You’re not going down without a fight, are you?

  As if reading my thoughts, the Owlbear finally regained its feet and used its beak and claws to force Valka back placing the soldier immediately on the defensive. Valka’s shield was up, but with one mighty paw the Owlbear slammed the Czak soldier back up against a tree, the wet bark cracking from the impact. A reservoir of water held by the leaves above cascaded down upon us, but that wasn’t all.

  A snake so long they had believed it a tree branch fell to the ground in front of us hissing in anger at being disturbed. I gasped as its head reared up to strike at me. I barely dodged out of the way and its head smacked ineffectually into the ground where I had been standing.

  Serpent of Herne

  Level 8

  It was weaker than the Owlbear, but was still twice my own level. Valka was tied up with the Owlbear and Anya was casting heals upon him, repairing his damaged or perhaps even broken ribs.

  “Igvild, help!” I called out and the Dwarf was suddenly there before me with his dagger slashing horizontally at the Snake’s throat. The dagger failed to penetrate the Snake’s thick hide, the weapon doing little more than scratching the scales. I prepared to launch a Combustion bolt point blank, but Igvild wasn’t finished yet.

  Igvild often fought with a dagger in each hand and I had marveled at how easily he could wield the two weapons simultaneously. His first dagger failed, but his new dagger stabbed downward to critically pierce the Snake’s skull, the curved blade parting scale and bone. I gasped as the Snake went into convulsions and its head burst apart! Snake blood and brain matter splattered upon us both. Was this what Sonic damage was capable of? I had no time to wonder further as the Owlbear reared up on its hind legs as it prepared to fall upon Valka with its full weight.

  Anya leapt forward and swung her morningstar into the Owlbear’s side, distracting the beast from its attack, but its neck bones were more an owls than a bears and its head swiveled nearly fully around and stabbed downward with its beak into Anya’s chest! I stared in horror as the half-elf armor parted as if made from paper and she screamed in agony. Valka roared in anger and disbelief. I froze, my own horror paralyzing me. Anya’s mouth filled with blood as she grimaced in pain and something inside me snapped.

  Rage like when the Corruption nearly overtook me boiled the blood in my veins and I ran straight at the Owlbear screaming. The Owlbear withdrew its beak from Anya with a wet tearing of flesh. Anya sank to the ground with a cry, her hand clutching at the hole in her chest. I took a deep breath and cast Wrath Shield putting myself in between Anya and the Owlbear. Immediately I felt myself burning up inside as my mana began to rapidly drain, but I grit my teeth and bore it. I wouldn’t be able to hold the shield for long. Fortunately, the creature no longer seemed interested in the critically wounded warrior. It settled its gaze upon me and I faced it down as I raised both my hands to double cast Combustion Bolt.

  WARNING! CORRUPTION RAISED TO LEVEL 1!

  I ignored the notification. I didn’t care, yet my mind registered this was a side effect of using Corrupted magic. I was going to kill this weird amalgam of an Owl and a Bear and reduce it to cinders! Twin bolts flew from my outstretched fingers and merged to form a greater bolt. It slammed into the Owlbear’s maw and exploded shattering the Owlbear’s beak. The feather’s surrounding the pain maddened creature’s ruined face finally caught flame and I celebrated.

  “Burn, you blasted thing!” I staggered and swayed. Dual casting drained my mana even further. I was running low. I could manage maybe one or two more attacks before I would need to rest and replenish myself. The Owlbear raised a claw and swiped it across my chest in an attempt to disembowel me. My shield melted the claws on its right paw down to smoldering nubs, but the force of its attack crushed a few ribs and I spat blood.

  The Owlbear’s health meter had dropped to well below half thanks to the damage of my bolts and its ineffective attack against Wrath Shield, which I was finally forced to let dissipate for the drain it was causing to both my mana and health. I gasped in relief. Wrath magic was pain. I looked behind me. Anya was out of the fight. She was currently crawling backwards while keeping an eye on the enraged Owlbear, her hand still pressed to her bleeding wound. She needed one of the healing potions we had looted from Bleakhollow, but as far as I knew Valka had them in his sack and he was a bit busy at the moment his own health nearly at half. I could only think of one thing to do while the Owlbear was hesitating and eyeing me cautiously after the loss of several claws.

  “Igvild, you need to punch me in the stomach!”

  “I think what ye meant to ask is that I hit you in the head, lad. It’s a bit too late for trying to knock any good sense into there and us running away, however.” Igvild growled. He had appeared beside me as we both tried to figure out our next moves. The Owlbear had been slowed thanks to Igvild wounding both its hind legs. The beast could no longer maintain its balance as it had before and the destruction of its beak had taken away one of its preferred weapons.

  “A battle of attrition,” I gasped. “I think I have something better in mind, but you need to hit me for it to work.” Eyes widening in understanding, Igvild nodded and reached out a hand to turn me to face him.

  “Right-O, on the count of three then, lad?” I nodded and gritted my teeth, preparing myself mentally for pain.

  “One…”

  A fist crashed into my stomach and the next thing I knew I was on the ground groaning, tears in my eyes. Oh, but that hurt! Were dwarven fists made out of stone?

  “Sorry lad, best to make it a surprise.” I couldn’t get out a response, the pain was too great. There was also another problem. I could tell it hadn’t worked.

  “Why…didn’t it work?”

  “You need another?” Igvild asked? I didn’t get a chance to bleat out something mean as a response, because just then Valka cried out as the Owlbear turned away from us to try swiping again at Valka with what remained of its claws. The beast managed to knock the shield from Valka’s arm, breaking the arm as a result.

  Igvild and Davros stared in horror at Valka’s arm dangling uselessly, the other barely holding onto his sword. Sweat was pouring down the soldier’s face, his eyes intense. I marveled at his bravery. Even with his arm broken, the Czak soldier barely flinched. Valka’s tone was grim when without looking back at us he growled out his final orders.

  “Grab Anya and run! Get away while I hold it off!”

  No!

  The world moved in slow motion. The Owlbear swiped vertically with its claw and smashed Valka into a tree hard enough to crack the tree sending it toppling to the ground. The Owlbear no longer had the ability to screech, its roar a wet gargling and hissing without its beak. With Valka out of the way, it swiveled its head around to again fix its bloodshot eyes upon Igvild and myself.

  We are going to die. I’ve failed. Not strong enough. Damnit, why didn’t Igvild’s hit activate my special ability?

  I had thought that my Limit Break triggered whenever I took enough damage and Igvild’s punch had felt like a sledgehammer. Yet, I sensed it had done absolutely nothing to trigger the ability. Was it because he wasn’t an enemy? Would the Eye not accept it as a real attack?

  I still haven’t figured out how to Evolve the Limit Break ability. Is Imbolc’s Breath not available anymore until I do? I can feel the power inside me. How do I bring it out?

  I forced myself to my feet. There was only one sure way to find out.

  “Igvild, can you distract it for a moment? I have an idea.”

  “You do?” Igvild asked astonished. “What was actually in that potion that old bag gave you?”

  “All I need is a moment, Igvild. Go!”