Phantasmal Goblin Spearman

Race

Goblin

Class

Spearman

Shards

2/2

Strength

3

Dexterity

5

Wisdom

2

Constitution

2

Agility

4

Intelligence

1

HP

7

Mana

4

HP regen

0.2/hour

Mana regen

1/hour

Shard

Level

Essence

Goblin

1

0/500

Spearman

1

0/300

As Ed had expected, there wasn't any difference in the goblin's status from Slicing the spearman Shard. At its first level, spearman, like most weaponry Classshards, gave basic competency with the weapon. The next couple of levels would give stat bonuses, and the fourth would give a Shard slot, both of which would make the goblin much more useful than it was. The main difference from Slicing the spearman Shard wasn't apparent in the goblin's status, but on the goblin itself. Where previously the goblin was conjured with nothing but a loincloth, it was holding a spear.

"Better than I expected." Ed told the unresponsive goblin. "I really don't have the credits to buy you a spear right now."

Ed dismissed the goblin with a wave of his hand, regaining the mana used to summon it, picked up his gear, and left the motel, heading towards the Labyrinth.

There are many famous and imposing structures in the Labyrinth.

The Spire of Wisdom, home to the Brotherhood of Hermes. The Castle Eden, where the House of Adam lived, isolated from all who have abandoned their humanity. The Arctology, where the Bjørnsons lived, perhaps lamenting their founder's sense of humor. The Labyrinth Exchange, where credits were coined and high powered Shards were sold to the highest bidder. Other, stranger structures hid away in the depths of the Labyrinth, populated by tribes of monsters, delvers who chose to never rise to the surface, and other, more mysterious, entities.

Not nearly as imposing, but perhaps no less famous, there was the Drunken Pug. Looking like the bastard child of a medieval public house and a military basic training facility, the Pug was part long term dwelling for unaffiliated delvers, part training ground/gym, two parts rowdy pub, and one clubhouse, and most importantly, the place you went when you were looking for group.

Need to find newcomers to brave the second floor with? Sveta, at the bar will hook you up.

Need a tank to top up your party for a raid on the Dreadlords in the Unnumbered Halls? Put up a notice and someone will come up.

Looking to scope up likely marks for some PvP action? Better get out fast. Mustafa, the bouncer, has a telepathy Shard, and a really nasty disposition towards murderers.

The first thing Ed saw when he approached the Pug was the large neon sign, depicting a particularly ugly dog with a mug of beer in its paw. The second was Mustafa. Three and a half meters tall, (four if you count the topknot), skin as bronze as a Bjørnson's armored exoskeleton, and a mustache you could tug of war a main battle tank with, the legendary bouncer of the Drunken Pug made sure anyone who entered knew that he was there.

Nodding politely (very politely) to the bouncer, Ed entered the Pug, heading straight towards the bar. Sveta, the bartender (don't call her a barmaid. Just don't), was standing behind the bar cleaning a ceramic mug with a hand towel and watching the moderately full common room. Not that she actually needed to clean it. She had a modern dishwashing machine in the back, and more than enough employees to man it, thank you very much. But a proper public house has an image to maintain, and a bartender endlessly cleaning a mug was as important a part of said image as the mysterious cloaked stranger in the corner.

"Grog, grub or group?" asked Sveta as soon as Ed stopped in front of the bar.

"Ergh…" said Ed, bereft of all coherent thought.

He knew what to expect. Sveta was famous among anyone with even the slightest interest in the Labyrinth. As famous, perhaps, as the Founding Five themselves. There was a difference, however, between knowing someone has a tier 6 Celestial Choir Shard and actually hearing them speak.

Used to the effect her voice has on people, Sveta went back to cleaning her mug, waiting patiently for the passive stun effect to pass.

"Group," Ed managed to say after a couple of minutes.

"Right." Said Sveta. "I don't remember seeing you before. You new here?"

"Yeah. Just finished my solo yesterday."

"OK then." Sveta reached beneath the bar, taking out a short, printed form and a pen. "I need to register you, then we'll see if you fit any waiting group. Name?"

"Eduard Fergusson."

"Preferred role?"

"Melee. Trained in HEMA, specializing in quarterstaff."

"Nice. Always a demand for decent front liners. Any useful Shards?" She asked, already starting to mark "none" before even hearing his answer."

"Wait up. I've got a Skill. Summons a goblin with basic spear skills."

"You've got a what?" For the first time since the conversation started, Sveta turned her full attention on Ed.

"I've got a Skillshard. Summons a goblin with a spear. It's fairly weak, but it can still fight."

"Where'd a newbie like you get something like that?"

"Lucky drop in the first floor."

"Seriously lucky drop. Shards rarely drop below the third. OK. I've got a group for you. They've got a bit more experience than you, but if you aren't lying about your training and Shards, you should be a good match. Go up the stairs to the second level, seventh room on the left, look for a Ram-kin named Kevin, he leads your new group. Tell him I sent you, and good luck."

Having finished her directions, Sveta went back to cleaning her spotless mug, ignoring Ed's continued presence with practiced ease.