Grempire (The Rules Book 3), page 21
“Do you mind if I get a look at that?” Sam asked, moving toward the excited man.
“Sure. Wouldn’t advise trying to hold it, though. I don’t think you have the Strength for it.”
Contrary to being insulted, Sam nodded gratefully, placing a hand on the item and checking its status.
ITEM FOUND!
Name: Messenger’s Cleaver
Durability: 28,000/28,000
Rarity: Soul-Forged
Quality: Reinforced
Damage: 128-146 (Slashing), +54-67 (Burn), +45-53 (Freezing), +75% Chance to inflict Bleeding Debuff for 20 second.
Requirements: Level 26 Warrior, 125 Strength, 150 Endurance
Estimated Value: Unknown
The Messenger’s Cleaver is a mighty weapon carried by Messengers of the Overlord himself. Use with caution.
“Holy shit!” Sam exclaimed, removing his hand and taking a step back. “That’s what I call a weapon!”
Greg seemed oddly pleased by that, taking a couple of practice swings before reaching into the cubby and removing a sheath for the powerful weapon.
“Great. Now that we’re all done measuring, can we please get going? I have a feeling we’re way past our deadline,” Emma said, gesturing toward the door.
“Don’t you two wanna put on your armor?” Greg asked, his brows furrowing.
“Not while we’re still here,” Sam replied. “Wearing something like that would be like blatantly telling everyone that we stole it, and seeing as we’d prefer to sneak out, the smarter move is to keep it off for now.”
“So, where exactly are we going to be meeting the others?” Greg asked as they began running for the exit.
“We were supposed to meet them by the back wall about five minutes ago,” Sam replied, taking a hard right and running through another room.
He noticed a cashier as they passed and tensed as he prepared for an attack. However, the cashier didn’t so much as glance their way, continuing to stare down at their newspaper as though they didn’t exist.
“This has to be the single strangest Dungeon I have ever seen,” Emma said as they passed through their third room.
“Tell me…about it,” Sam panted as he fought desperately to keep up with his two much faster companions.
Of course, he knew they were matching his pace, and had they wanted to, could have easily left him in the dust. He hated being this slow, but, on the other hand, he was much more useful in a fight. Sure, they could take single opponents just as well as he could, but he could take on entire groups with his AOE abilities, so it sort of evened out. Well, it would even out when they were fighting, but right now, he was feeling quite useless.
“Would you like any help?” Emma asked, slowing a bit to match his pace exactly.
“I can run on my own,” he said, brushing off her pity. “I’ll be fine once we’re out of here.”
“You know,” Greg said as they turned another corner. “We’ve been traveling by foot so far, but there has to be a faster way.”
“There is no way in hell that I will be getting on the back of a horse!” Sam snapped. “Those things are devil-beasts and should not be trusted!”
“What do you have against…?” Emma began to ask, but Greg’s frantic headshaking cut her off mid-sentence.
Judging by the way his expression, she had a feeling it was either better not to ask or that whatever experience Sam had had with horses was too traumatic to talk about.
“I had something else in mind, actually,” Greg replied with a grin.
Sam raised a questioning eyebrow, but Greg only smiled wider.
***
“Holy shit,” Sam said, his voice sounding awed. “This can’t be a real item. It just can’t be!”
“Oh, but it is,” Greg replied, sliding his hand over the front of the strange-looking carriage.
Their small group had taken a quick series of turns, following Greg’s lead as he took them to the ground floor, then headed deeper into the store. It had added a good ten minutes to their run, but oddly enough, when they reached this final room, Sam could see the outside and the wall that ran along its perimeter. It made sense, what with the items that this specific room contained.
“I can’t believe what I’m seeing,” Emma said, placing her hand on the wagon as well.
“Well, you’d best believe it, missy,” an old, wrinkled man said as he stomped over. “Finest craftsmanship in all of Somerset.”
“And how much does it cost?” Sam asked, looking to the old man dubiously.
The grin that stretched the man’s face was so wide that Sam knew what they were going to have to do.
***
“How the hell was that old geezer so strong?” Sam wheezed, bending over and trying to catch his breath.
“Well, he was defending some pretty expensive stuff,” Emma replied from her place on the floor.
She was currently lying on her back, her chest rising and falling quickly as she tried to recover.
“Thought geezers like that…only existed in movies,” Greg wheezed.
He was sitting with his back to one of the walls, his face and arms streaked with blood.
All three of their HP’s were in the red and were slowly recovering after having faced the geezer from hell. The battle had been just about one of the hardest Sam had ever faced in Somerset, which just pissed him off even more. There was no logical reason as to how a wrinkled, old man could pose such a challenge, yet the old-man-being-way-stronger-than-everyone trope was still alive and kicking, especially in Somerset, the land of tropes and bad puns.
“We really do need to get going,” Sam said, forcing himself back to his feet. “I don’t know if they’ve been noticed yet or not, but for their sakes, I hope they haven’t.”
“I honestly have no idea how we’re going to get out of here on that without anyone noticing,” Greg replied, getting up as well.
“There’s no way we won’t be noticed,” Sam replied. “But we should be moving too fast for them to catch us.”
“I have just one question,” Emma said. “How the hell are we supposed to drive this thing?”
34
The glass doors covering the back of the Dungeon-shop shattered as the steel construct smashed through it at nearly fifteen miles per hour.
“Slow down, you idiot! You’re going to kill us!” Greg yelled as Sam jerked the steering wheel of the medieval car to the right, tearing through clumps of grass and speeding toward the far wall.
“Stop being a backseat driver,” Sam snapped, jerking the wheel hard to one side. “Unless you want to take over.”
“Dude! I have almost no MP, and there’s no need to rub it in.”
Sam grinned, despite himself, and jerked the wheel the other way, narrowly avoiding slamming into the side of a building.
The vehicle they were currently in looked something like a stretched Ford Model T, only with a lot more armor on the front and sides, as well as wheels that seemed to be able to drive over anything. At first, they’d wondered how this thing would even work, but after reading the description, Sam discovered that he was the only one here capable of driving this monstrosity.
ITEM FOUND!
Name: Underworld Chariot
Durability: 54,000/54,000
Rarity: Legendary
Quality: Reinforced
Class: Horseless-Carriage (Mana-Operated)
Requirements to Operate: 100+ Intelligence & Wisdom, Cost of 20 MP per second
Max Speed: Miles per hour/Intelligence + Wisdom divided by 4
Estimated Value: 784,000 Gold
The Underworld Chariot is a Horseless Carriage designed by the enchanter and well-known preacher of purity, Virgonius Simp. He originally created it for a woman he liked, but as with all women, she rejected him, leaving the saddened Simp to sell this marvel of engineering and magic.
The story behind the Underworld Chariot had to be the single-most pathetic story Sam had ever heard, but getting to steal an item that was worth so much, as well as being capable of driving up to 58 miles-per-hour, more than made up for it. Also, seeing as his MP regenerated at a rate of 10.9 per second and he had 1,250 MP, he could keep this thing going for a bit over two minutes at a time without having to stop, and once he got his Divine gear on, he’d be able to drive it without any cost at all.
“Hold on!” he yelled, jerking the wheel to one side and pulling them around a ninety-degree turn.
The wheels tore up even more ground, and had there been a camera around the corner, it would have captured a manically-grinning Sam as he hunched over the steering wheel, alongside a terrified Emma and Greg as they desperately clutched to the overhead handles. It seemed like there were no seatbelts in medieval cars, and although Sam’s seat was shaped like a bucket, keeping him relatively secure, the others’ were more like benches — comfortable, cushioned benches, but benches, nonetheless.
Likewise, this carriage didn’t have doors. It instead had a railing around waist height, so any sudden or violet movements could easily toss someone from the vehicle. There was a loud scream as a woman threw herself to the side, and Sam roared with laughter as he tore through the place where she’d been just moments before.
“It’s like playing a videogame, but in real life!”
Emma and Greg shared another terrified look, then both pounced on Sam as he tried to swerve into another passing pedestrian.
“Okay, pal, why don’t you take a breather?” Greg suggested, pulling his arms down to the sides as Emma wrestled with the steering wheel.
Unfortunately, it was the wheel itself that took the associated mana needed to keep the carriage going. With Emma’s very low Intelligence, they ran out of fuel in under ten seconds, causing the carriage to stop. Thankfully, they managed this before Sam slammed into the far wall.
“Get off me!” he yelled, struggling against the much stronger Greg as he tried to grab onto the wheel once more.
“Can’t do that, buddy. Not until you’ve calmed down enough to be trusted with this death machine.”
“What the hell has gotten into you?” Emma asked, grabbing his chin and turning his head toward her.
“Who, me?” Sam asked, cackling madly. “Nothing at all!”
Emma and Greg shared another worried look as Sam struggled to grab the steering wheel once more. It was at that moment that Gordon, Barry, and Daisy came bounding out of the darkness and into the light of the headlamps that were conveniently installed on the carriage.
“We need to be off, at once!” Gordon said, leaping into the carriage in a single bound.
“Why, what’s wrong?” Emma asked as Greg jumped from the carriage to help Daisy climb in.
“They’re right on our tails,” she panted. “I don’t know how they knew, but they’re definitely after us.”
“Who?” Emma asked, keeping her arms clamped firmly around Sam as he tried to grab the wheel once more.
“Them!” Barry screeched, leaping onto Greg’s foot and hitching a ride as he got back into the carriage.
They all turned, just in time to see a large group of soldiers coming toward them. They didn’t look like normal soldiers, as their eyes glowed a bright red and their faces were twisted into manic grins, matching Sam’s almost perfectly.
“Well, that isn’t creepy at all,” Emma said, finally allowing Sam’s hand to touch the wheel but taking control of it herself.
Everyone was thrown to the ground as the carriage jerked, turning quickly around and tearing up even more of the ground.
“Gordon, do you have any idea what’s wrong with him?” Emma asked as she kept one arm across Sam’s chest to hold him back and the other on the wheel to keep him from making any driving decisions.
“I believe the Overlord has cursed him,” Gordon replied, watching the manic Sam try to pull the wheel to hit random people who were all running for the exit gates.
“What the hell kind of curse would make someone act like this?” Greg asked, moving to help Emma.
“I honestly have no idea,” Gordon replied. “But we will need to keep him contained until the time comes where he can think rationally again.”
There was a scream from behind them, and they all turned to see the glowy-eyed soldiers giving chase, moving way too fast and almost keeping pace with them.
“How fast are we moving?” Emma shouted, feeling positively alarmed.
“About fifteen MPH,” Greg called back. “But we can’t go any faster with this many people around!”
The gates weren’t too far off, but at the rate the soldiers were moving, they’d catch up long before they reached them.
“Daisy, can you do something, please?” Greg yelled.
“Me? Why don’t you do something?” the giant skunk panted.
“Because you’re the only one aside from this slavering lunatic who has any ranged attacks!” Greg snapped. “Now, do it!”
Daisy shot him a withering glare, then rose to her feet. She was already occupying the entire back bench, while Gordon and Barry had taken the middle. There were seats to either side of Sam, and both were being used by Emma and Greg to try and keep them going on course.
Emma looked back, as she had a sort of morbid curiosity as to what the skunk could really do. She’d never actually seen her fight, so this would be a first for her.
Daisy’s massive pink tail rose into the air, and after the skunk shot Greg another glare, she unleashed her attack. An explosion of green mist shot from behind the skunk, coating the charging warriors in its choking embrace. The stench was immediate, and was worse than anything Emma had ever smelled. It was like every skunk in the world had come together and added their collective stenches to a single pot, then had let it stew for a century before unleashing it all at once.
However bad it was for them, it was about a million times worse for the following soldiers, as they immediately collapsed, clutching at their chest as their skin bubbled and flesh dissolved. Horrific screams began echoing through the night as Daisy lowered her tail, swishing it several times before she laid down.
“I hope you’re happy,” she muttered. “It’s because of fornicating rectum holes like you that I need to spend so much time grooming myself.”
Greg just rolled his eyes as the skunk pulled a piece of honeycomb from her storage and began munching on it sullenly, completely ignoring the mess it was making in the back of the carriage. Right now, though, the two of them had bigger problems, like the pair of closed gates up ahead.
“Do we do this like the movies?” Emma asked, keeping the wheel locked straight ahead.
“It’s not like we have a choice,” Greg replied. “Hang on!”
The entire group braced themselves as they slammed into the gates, ripping the metal from its bearings and sending them spinning away into the night. Greg pulled the wheel hard to one side, heading down the darkened path and away from the Underworld.
Emma looked down at Sam worriedly as he continued to struggle against them. It worked in their favor that his Strength was quite meager, and they were easily able to hold him down. She just hoped that he snapped out of whatever this curse was quickly.
***
They were forced to stop about a mile outside of the Underworld, as Sam ran out of MP. However, that didn’t mean they were done for the night. Greg and Emma held him down until he’d regenerated all of it, then pushed his hands to the wheel once more. They managed to get a lot further away this time, but they repeated the same action twice more, until they were far enough away to rest for the night.
However, even once they’d stopped, parking the carriage in a thicket of bushes and disguising the gleaming sides, they still had to take shifts holding Sam down. It seemed he was getting worse as the night progressed, acting more and more like an animal than a human. Finally, as the sun was peaking over the horizon, Sam’s body went completely still, his eyes closed, and he fell into a deep slumber.
Emma, who’d been taking her turn holding him down, relaxed with a sigh of relief. She brushed a lock of hair behind one of her ears, then sat back to watch the sun rise. Last night had been a difficult one, albeit extremely profitable. She just hoped today would be slightly less terrifying and stressful, though nothing was ever guaranteed in Somerset.
35
Sam awoke with a blinding headache, feeling like there was an angry Pal-Tee inside his head, pounding away with one of the patented rocks.
“What the hell happened last night?” he groaned, sitting up from the cushioned seat where he’d been lying and rubbing at his head.
“After you stole this vehicle, you began to display symptoms of insanity and rabid behavior, though, seeing as that seems to be your regular personality, I would not say you acted any different.”
“Go fuck a horse, dumbass,” Sam muttered, rubbing at his temples.
“While you may feel comfortable interbreeding with other species, I, for one, do not,” Gordon huffed. “I prefer dogs, thank you very much. Although, I have heard that wolves can be quite the treat.”
“So, you’re just as big a perv as the rest,” Sam chuckled, squinting around and trying to piece together what had happened last night.
He was currently sitting in some kind of car, one that they had stolen last night. He remembered that much, but everything else was a complete blank.
“I beg your pardon?” Gordon huffed. “I, unlike you, Samuel Edward Silvers the Third, am not a perverse miscreant with a foul mouth and even fouler stench! I am a canine of morals and class, a pair of words I do not think you can even comprehend!”
“Fuck you,” Sam muttered, feeling the headache beginning to recede. “Tell me where everyone else is.”
“Go look for them yourself!” Gordon huffed, then rose from his seat and hopped out of the wagon. “I should also like to mention that you, Samuel, are a horrible person, with no morality or sense of decency!”
