Achievement Unlocked: Here Comes The New Boss Same As The Old Boss

Nat stared at the sudden and completely unexpected words floating in front of his vision. A notification. That was a notification, but it had come up without a spell or without a focus device or—

No, no that was impossible. His hands came up and fastened around the bronze medallion his friend—his now very unconscious friend—had just put on him. As soon as his fingers brushed the metal, it warmed to the touch, and another notification popped up.

Tinkerer Boon Active. Powers bestowed upon wearer:

Guardian Teleport (2)

Guardian’s Wrath (4)

Absorb Minerals (2)

Guardian’s Summons (3)

Powers are active for 2hrs. Original bearer of the powers will be unable to use them for (1) hours.

Nat stared at the notification, uncomprehending for a long second. Those powers… Achievements? What in the name of the earth father’s twelve toes were achievements? What had Sam—

Sam. He whirled. His friend was face-down on the floor. For a heart-wrenching second Nat feared that something truly horrible had happened… Then Sam let out a quiet snore.

“Did he just fall asleep?” Councilwoman Milthorne had jolted to her feet when Sam had collapsed, and was now staring open-mouthed at the human on the floor.

“He, uh, has been working long hours,” Nat said. “Uh, sorry, but I think we need to go. I think things are happening. You, uh, should stay inside. I think. Probably.”

“Young man,” Milthorne said in a considerably icier tone than she had been using with Sam, “what are you babbling about?”

The door to the room flew open before Nat could reply, and the racist fuckwit—improperly trained henchman, maybe?—burst in.

“Ma’am, we need to go,” he said without any trace of the assholery he’d demonstrated about twenty minutes ago. “There are unknown forces approaching Melloram at speed. The mobs from the dungeon are telling us it’s an enemy attack.”

“Damn,” Milthorne breathed. “It’s already begun.”

“I need to get back to the dungeon,” Nat said. “Uh, can you help me carry Sam?”

“No.” The Councilwoman swept out from behind her desk and followed her guard out the door. A second later the orc woman Sam had said was a bodyguard stormed in, took one look around, and huffed out an annoyed breath.

“Took him ten minutes to go from vertical to horizontal on my watch. Figures.” Her eyes got that far-away look a person gets when communicating through messages. Probably asking for instructions—

“Did he just say attack?” Nat blurted out, brain suddenly noticing what his ears had been hopping up and down trying to tell him.

“Yeah, now pipe down sparky,” the orc snapped.

Nat did. But then he had a better idea, and reached out through his own message system.

Nathaniel: Um, Mrs. Tolliver? Sam’s out cold, there’s an attack coming, and he just gave me a bunch of strange medallions and said I need to get to you. Um. Help?

Annie: What happened to Sam? Where are you?

Nathaniel: Um, the old haberdasher’s on Lye street. We were meeting with Councilwoman Milthorne, but now Sam’s unconscious. He just kind of fell over. But then he ‘deputized’ me, I guess? I don’t know what that means, except I’ve got a bunch of weird new powers like Guardian Teleport for a couple hours.

Annie: Saints and devils, that boy will be the death of me. Alright, Nathaniel, you said ‘teleport’, right? That is a power Sam has through his Guardian class that Cora gave him. It lets him teleport anywhere within the bounds of the dungeon, and bring people or things with it. Can you use it yourself?

Nat frowned and cast his Menu spell, bringing up the spells and powers menu. There he saw the Guardian Teleport power, and prepared to cast it. The motions were complex, but doable—

Annie: DON’T do it yet!

Nat jerked in surprise, the movement dismissing his menu, and nearly stumbled over his own feet.

Nathaniel: But you said—

Annie: If you can use it, grab my son before you do. Bring him and yourself back to the dungeon’s central chamber. We’ll meet you there.

Oh. Of course. That made good sense. Yes. Good. Right. Okay. He could do that. Nat reached down and grabbed his friend’s wrist tightly, then as fast as he could cast Guardian Teleport(tier 1). There was a bright flash and a sensation of being pulled—

And just like that he was standing in the middle of the raised dais in the center chamber of the dungeon. Sam was at his feet, not even having twitched with the suddenl relocation. All around him men and women were scrambling to and fro. He saw some head down a tunnel, only to return a few moments later armed to the teeth. Others dashed down a different set of tunnels, shepherding children and aged before them.

“Sam!” A feminine voice from behind him made Nat turn. Cora, Sam’s golem… Friend? Was barreling towards him at speed. He let out a squeak and stepped back, releasing Sam’s wrist. The golem lady skidded to a stop and dropped to her knees beside his friend.

“Oh thank god he’s not dead,” she said with feeling. “He is unconscious though. Ah,” she said, as if understanding something of his condition. “I see now. I warned him that overdosing on those spells was a poor idea that would catch up with him.” Her shining eyes came up off of Sam and latched onto Nat… And flew open wide.

“Oh,” she breathed. “That is different.”

“Yeah, uh,” Nat squirmed under that intense gaze. “Sam, uh, gave me some of his powers, I think.” He held out the medallion almost like a shield. “He said he was deputizing me. I think he knew he was about to pass out, and wanted me to do… Something.”

“What ‘thing’,” A deep rumbling and above-all familiar voice said from behind him. He turned again—he was getting dizzy—to see Jack Tolliver there, with Mrs. Tolliver at his side, who was pushing a wheelchair containing a big brawny orc with no legs.

“These!” Nat held up the other two medallions.

“Son, we’ve got about a hundred mobs swarming in on Melloram from the north. I don’t know if it’s the lich, or if it’s this mysterious critter my son’s been going on about, or just a bunch of opportunistic bandits. But I do not have time to play 20 questions.”

“Sam gave them to me. Told me to give them to you. Did you say ‘a hundred mobs’?” Nat stared, feeling the blood drain from his face. “Wait, Zed and Emmy are still in Melloram! I need to get them out!”

Mrs. Tolliver reached out and gently took the medallions from his unresisting hand. “Don’t worry Nat. We’ll make sure they’re safe.” She glanced down at the medallions and raised an eyebrow. “Well, this one has ‘ma’ engraved on it. Want to bet this other one’s for you, dear?” She handed the other to Sam’s dad.

“And just what are we supposed to do—“

“If you put them on, I think they’ll give you some of Sam’s powers,” Nat blurted. “At least, that’s what it did when he put this one on me.”

The two older adults blinked, glanced at each other, then without another word slipped the medallions over their heads.

“Oh, that is peculiar,” Cora said, wincing. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt something like that before.”

Both the elder Tollivers made motions with their hands, bringing up their menus.

“I’ve got the offensive capabilities. Looks like the ones he told us Sally gave him,” Mrs. Tolliver said. “What do you have?”

“Base building,” Jackson Tolliver smiled a shark’s smile. “Clever boy. I have access to the creature spawns, too. Looks like he finally learned to delegate.”

“His timing is shit,” Mrs. Tolliver said flatly. “I could use a dozen hours of practice with this stuff.”

“You fight the battle in front of you,” the orc growled. “Damn, I wish I had my legs. You all could use a good axe-arm, sounds like.”

“I can take care of our defense,” Jack Tolliver said, eyes flicking back and forth. “Sam’s got a hefty stockpile built up. Guess he was saving for a rainy day. And I’ll get defenders on the walls too.” He paused, blinking. “Huh. Cora, did you just finish your essence collecting? The number of available essence just jumped several hundred exchanges.”

“Let me check.” Cora closed her eyes and her lips parted for a moment, then she nodded. “Yes, it appears so. Although it appears we have collected more than we should have. I am uncertain where the extra exchanges came from.”

“Deal with that later. With this, we’ve got enough to pull in another of the Crew.” Jack’s teeth showed in a fierce grin. “Another high-level blade on the field is just what the doctor ordered.”

“Bring in Bjorn,” Mrs. Tolliver said at once. “That stone bastard will ruin anyone’s day.”

“Not enough minerals,” Jack said. “Not if I want to put up any kind of decent wall. Damn son, I wish you’d gotten this done sooner. We’re not going to have much time. Char!” The big man’s bellow brought dust down from the ceiling, and a moment later a small kobold came jogging up from… Somewhere. Nat couldn’t tell with all the commotion.

“Yes, Jackson Tolliver?” The small woman asked, raising her brows expectantly.

“Get as many workers together as you can. We’re going to be marching for Melloram in five minutes.” Sam’s dad frowned. “And bring that toolbox my son’s so fond of using. Might come in handy.”

The woman nodded and dashed off, tapping people on the shoulder as she ran. They fell into a run behind her, adding even more to the commotion.

“The early-warning system Samuel had us install is saying the enemies are moving at a rate that will bring them to Melloram in just under a half-hour,” Cora reported. “There are still many civilians within the town proper. Sally and my other sister are making their way back to the dungeon now, accompanied by two of Samuel’s three guards.” She shot Nat a glance. “The third guard is cursing very loudly about being left behind when you teleported out, incidentally,” she told him.

Oops. Nat swallowed. “I hope she doesn’t hold a grudge.”

“I suspect we will find out in roughly seven minutes,” Cora said, utterly failing to make things sound better.”

“It’s gonna be close,” Jack said, frowning. “We’d better get moving. Buggs, I hate to say it, but—“

“But I’m no good on a battlefield and would do better staying here to coordinate the defense efforts,” the orc said, nodding once. “I hate that you’re right Jack, but you are right. I’ll stick close to Cora. And…” He trailed off, dark eyes narrowing suddenly.

“We’re going to need crowd control,” the orc blurted, and if Jack’s smile had shown teeth, the one on the orc’s face was positively demonic with glee. “I think I know just who to bring back.”

A moment later both the Tollivers were grinning as well.

To Nat, who had not two days earlier survived an attack by a centuries-old undead monarch of untold power, it was the scariest thing he could ever remember seeing.