Space Rodeo bonus - Sage 10

The classes changed everything. Sage's squadmates were racing ahead of her, chattering excitedly, looking for creatures to kill. Each time they flushed out a basking iguana or jackrabbit from under a bush, they'd race over to check for a skill seed. Most of the small creatures yielded nothing. The kids dropped back near Sage to complain.

"You've got to go after things worth killing," Sage said wearily. She felt on edge, keeping a constant watch all around them for real hazards as her classmates hunted for treasure. She could understand. After months of playing around with the fake classes, to have a real, individualized class all their own had to be exciting.

Even Third Molt had picked up. His tentacles twitched, and he was suffused with an almost rosy glow. He had shared his class information with Sage. It read a little weird. The class name was [From Many, One.] It looked like it was a variant on the Farmer class, but weird. He could grow plants and fungi at a very fast rate and harvest them to create small minions, as well as metabolizing the results himself for boosts. It had come with an ability to create seeds and spores. While he was limited right now to three kinds, he hoped it would expand. Unfortunately, he had to grow the seeds on himself. Even now, a pustule swelled on his backside. He didn't seem to mind. Sage just tried hard not to look at it.

Sage's biggest surprise was that their classes seemed more related to their personalities than to what they were carrying with them. She was wondering whether the part of Kronos in charge of this level had access to records of their school trials. She was still certain this was a fragment level. If the fragment was able to access Kronos' memories, that had disturbing implications.

Sage tried yet again to send a message. It still didn't work. Rok'gar fell back in to step with her as their colleagues bunched up outside a hole in the rock that looked as though it could offer shelter to some creature within. He had not offered to share his class information.

"We need to decide on our next course of action," he said. “Though it does not appear that there is night in this place, I do think we should seek shelter soon and rest.”

“Agreed. We’ve been on the move for hours. Once the excitement wears down a bit, everyone’s going to realize how hot and sore they are.”

"I've seen no sign of anything which makes me think we are near an exit. What happens if we wander here for days?"

Sage sighed. "I've got plenty of food and water in my inventory. Six months for me, so a good month if I share it with everyone. I'm worried about Third Molt. He doesn't eat the same food as the rest of us. I haven't asked if he has any of his own. What about you?"

Rok'gar nodded. "I can eat much of what you humans do, but I also have a stash of survival rations of my own."

"We can always just wait for rescue," Sage said. "My grandfather should be back from Earth any time. Your father is in the system, isn't he?"

"He is helping other members of our clan attempt to gain classes. He will be very proud of me. Many of our clan have not been able to evolve their basic warrior class into anything else.” His face fell. "I hope he will be proud. My class is a variant on the tailor class called [Armorsmith].”

 “So you're a crafter?" Sage said, delighted. "That's fantastic. Misfits Guild got a lot of use out of our crafters.”

“I worry that he will not think it a suitable class for a warrior, but it does give me a bonus to using armor I myself have created." He hesitated. "Studying how you humans got an advantage in the Reality Engine makes me realize my people have been too reliant on purchasing standard equipment rather than customizing our own. The way you used the Baker class to such advantage by customizing recipes to each member of your team… My clan would have bought a standard loadout from an allied company. But I saw how well it worked for you."

"Your father's a smart orc," Sage said. "He'll see the value.”

“But it is one reason why I am eager to escape this place under our own power rather than waiting for someone to come in after us," Rok'gar said.

"Agreed," Sage replied. "It's been so long since I saw proper action. I'll be humiliated if I have to wait until the cavalry arrives. On the other hand.” She gestured at the rest of their team. "I'm happy for them, and these skill seeds they're getting do seem to be slotting into their new classes nicely. Are you getting enough?"

"I received two from the buffalo hunt. I would like a chance to actually use them, which is another reason I would like us to stop. I harvested a great deal of pelts from those buffalo, and I believe I can craft us armor."

"Why didn't you say so?" Sage said. She whistled and gestured everyone to gather round. "Come on back," she called cheerfully. "Right, we're going to look for a place to camp. It's been long enough. We all need a good meal and a chance to rest, and that'll give everybody some time to get used to their new skills."

Some of the others groaned. "I need to get more abilities," Greta insisted, "before someone comes along and yanks us out of here and sends us back to school."

"I think we'll have time," Sage said. "We don't want to risk anyone getting hurt because we're tired or hungry. It's always good to have time to prepare. Besides, Rok'gar thinks he can make us some armor."

That cheered everyone up. They set about making camp. Sage pulled a bunch of portable shelters out of her inventory. She had a few old supplies left over from Phase 2 of the reality engine exploit that she deployed. Sentry totems and alarms. Third Molt eyed a couple of the boxes suspiciously.

"I recognize some of those labels.”

Sage shrugged. "All's fair in war and war," she said cheerfully. "But if that means you know how to set 'em up, then give me a hand. Er, pseudopod."

The camp assembled. they sat about eating hot meals Sage had stashed in her inventory. Rok'gar bent over a pile of buffalo skins. His first result was a pair of tall boots. They were lopsided, with the right boot a little longer than the left, blotchy and badly sewn. Sage considered them suspiciously. She did an Eye Spy, then whistled. "These are really nice," she said. [Boots of the Approaching Thunder. Boots will size to fit wearer. Boots grant a 15% boost to speed and active ability: Battle Stomp.

Battle stomp: 30 second cooldown. Can only be used in combat. Deafens enemies in a 130 degree arc in front of wearer.]

"Let's see. I think these will go well on Brian,” Sage said. "You've got the most melee-focused class."

Brian took them, frowning. "It says they'll adjust, but how?"

"Put them in your inventory and equip them from there," Sage instructed.

Brian did so. A pleased smile crossed his face as the boots appeared on his feet. "Oh, hey, these are great. Nice job," he told Rok'gar, who returned the smile.

Eventually, they succumbed to exhaustion, crawling into the shelters, falling asleep. Sage was the last one. She wondered if perhaps she should keep watch, but with all of the alarm bots they had set out, surely it would be alright.

She jolted awake suddenly as the alarms blared all around. Scrambling out of her shelter, she had her lariat in hand almost without thinking about it. Rok'gar and Greta were the first out of their shelters.

"It's coming from that way," Sage said, pointing to the north.

She didn't see anything to have disturbed the alarms. The sun still beat down, and they had a clear, unobstructed view around the camp for a good 30 yards before the land dipped enough to hide. Sage cast Cowgirl Cheer as the rest of her team emerged from their tents. She felt a slight resistance to the cast.

That was funny. “Greta," she said urgently. "Buff us."

She frowned, but raised a hand as she clearly was picking from a system menu. “It says Confusing Mist resists your cast. Buff ineffective”

Sage scowled. "Someone's trying to cast a curse on us. Everybody, weapons out, but be careful. Third Molt, what are the range on these guardian beacons, anyway?"

"Farther than we can see," the Grignorian said promptly. "And they should be able to look through invisibility and stealth."

"I'm not seeing anything."

"Uh-oh.” He pointed. "I am detecting something coming toward us."

Sage tried targeting in that direction, but none of her spells had that long of a range.

Shawna, the other girl from Red Squad, shouted. "I've got something targeted. It's a walking skeleton. It says Minion.”

Sage swore. "Means there's a powerful enemy somewhere near. Walking skeleton means necromancers. Necromancers are bad news. Greta, any kind of resistance buffs you can give us, especially against undeath and diseases?"

"Trying it," Greta said.

Amaya had a healing class. “Any kind of debuffs that land on us, cleanse immediately," Sage instructed. “Necromancers tend to not have very powerful direct damage, but if you let their debuffs stack up, they're a pain to deal with.”

Now she could see the skeletons shambling toward them. She used Eye Spy. [Lost Cowboys, minion of Arthraxes, the unliving guardian of this sacred land].

The skeletons shambled closer. Sage prepared Mucking Out the Stalls. As soon as the closest were in view, her allies opened up with every ranged weapon they possessed. As the first skeletons collapsed in a heap of bullets and broken bone, more were approaching.

A raven swooped down overhead. It croaked at them. "The wizard necromancer has my nest trapped. Help me and I'll help you."

The sand in front of them stirred as the bones pulled themselves back together. There were more this time.

Sage Eye Spied again. These skeletons were now level two and had twice as many hit points, she swore. Though she herself was level ten, her classmates were not even level three yet. They had more health than these skeletons, but if the skeletons kept respawing stronger, not for long.

"You are in the necromancer's territory. He will not suffer your presence," the raven warned.

To Sage, it sounded like a quest, but nothing popped up. "Everyone else seeing this raven?" she called.

"What raven?" Greta shouted back. "I'm trying to buff people. The skeletons have a nasty debuff I'm trying to counter here."

Anything was better than standing here fighting constantly respawning skeletons. "Okay," Sage told the raven. "Where do you want us to go?"

"This way." The raven swooped upward and soared, dipping down and then leading off toward the west.

"We're going to retreat," Sage shouted. “Follow me."

They made a fighting retreat, shooting the skeletons as they came on. Sage explained about the raven, pointing he was leading them on toward a cleft in the hills a mile or so off.

"If we go down there, we'll be trapped," Rok'gar warned.

“I know.” Sage brushed hair back from her face as she fired her goo gun at a level 3 skeleton that had just spawned. The goo enveloped the minion, eating away at its bones. Maybe that would keep it from reforming, but she didn't have much hope. “And I haven't got any kind of quest pop up, so I'm worried about that. But at least it's a direction.”

Third Molt shouted back a warning. "I see dust to our left.”

Sage peered. There was dust being kicked up, and it didn't look like the wind.

“Keep heading for the canyon,” she shouted, and raced to a nearby hill, running up it and peering out. Two dozen riders were making for them, dressed like cowboys, but she could make out inhuman features from here. Orcs, elves, even a Grignarian mounted on a horse, which was the most ridiculous thing she had ever seen.

She raced back to her team as they put down yet more skeletons. "We have incoming."

Deep inside her, something gnawed in worry. It was like they were being herded toward where the raven wanted them to go. She didn't like this. Shad, or Grandpa, was supposed to be the one in charge, making the hard decisions. She'd never had other people's lives in her hands.

"Into the canyon," she urged. "At least the riders will have to come in single file." They might be able to get their horses through the narrow opening she saw, but if they came in one at a time they would be sitting ducks.

She led the way in, Rok'gar taking up the tail, the others strung out between them. The canyon had a familiar feel to it, like slot canyons she'd navigated back home. The sand underfoot was a few inches thick in most places, with a stream running down the center of the canyon. It was, and had been, absolutely cloudless the entire time they'd been here, so hopefully there wasn't a chance of a flash flood. Sage had seen the aftermath of flash floods in slot canyons, and had no interest in being stuck in one.

They raced up the canyon, round its bends, squeezing through narrow places, then flashing out into bright sunlight where the canyon opened up wider. Then they rounded a bend, and came up short. The canyon was abnormally wide here, with the walls vertical and steep, at least 30 feet up. The watercourse trickled down a sheer cliff from thirty feet above them. They’d come to a dead end.

Sage skidded to a halt.  There was no way out.

The raven swooped down into the chamber and circled around just overhead. It swooped up and landed on a ledge Sage hadn’t noticed before. Its smooth curves blended in with the wall 15 feet up. "My nest is up here on the ledge. Save it, and I will grant you one feather from my wings.”

"What good will that do?" Sage demanded.

Rok'gar called a warning. "They're right on our heels."

Sage searched around. There were tenuous hand holds and a narrow angled crack that might get her up there. “Watch my back,” she told the others, and started.

After a few moments and a scramble she was up. The ledge was much wider than she'd expected. "Everyone up here,” she ordered. They all started working their way up by the path she had taken. In a moment, they were all up, panting, as the sound of their pursuers grew ever louder.

"All right. Brian, Rok’gar. You two here, by the only way up. I'll cast Mucking Out the Stalls when I can. Everyone use whatever ranged spells you’ve got. We'll keep them off our backs until we figure out a plan."

She looked around the ledge. The wall above was smooth and sloped inward. There was no way farther up. Near the far end of the ledge was a nest containing three eggs, gleaming faintly in the shadows. She picked them up and added them to her inventory. They were listed there as "Raven's Egg."

Now what?

Sage looked around, seeing worried faces looking back at her, all clearly hoping she’d have an answer for the trap she’d just led them into.

She didn’t.