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Daily Short: Sara 06
🕑 Added 2022-10-21 07:04:12 +0000 UTC3rd D.E.E.D, Month of the Salted Skies
Sara finished gearing up. She was currently arrayed in a tightly fitting bodysuit wrapped in leather straps. Pouches of various colors were strapped to her belt while the crest of the Adventurer’s Guild shone brightly from her left side. A specially crafted runic hood woven with anti-inspection magic kept her features indistinct.
Sara would take a break from running the Gem Shops every so often. Her lieutenants knew where she’d be, but for everyone else, it was like she vanished off the face of Tal Mor. She’d learned over time that her body no longer aged. It was one of the reasons she didn’t plan for just years now but decades and centuries.
A person needs a hobby, though, or they’ll go insane. Sara thought as she pulled on one of her items to teleport her out of the Gem Shop office. My hobby is a little more explosive than knitting or designing cute dresses.
Her teleport key dropped Sara at the secluded spot she had created. It was a buried hidey hole stocked with Dungeon running gear. To be specific, dwarven rune guns of all makes and models. She moved among the items, her eyes roving over each new weapon. Sara picked out a rifle made of pure ebony mithril. Unlike standard dwarven weapons of this type, hers were customized with light-beam sights.
Killing monsters or pesky adventuring teams that attempted to stalk her was no more complicated than the point, click, win. The secret to her success in hunting was the runic bullets she had created. Monsters didn’t generally respond to the same power set she used to trap men. Instead, she had made bullets that breached the mana shielding higher-tier monsters had. The inspiration had come from watching a particular species of insect.
Blood flies were unique creatures that utilized the ability to slip through mana shielding to acquire food. After a long decade of study, Sara had learned their secret. Applying it to runic bullets was a logical step. At first, all the shots were handmade, but automation occurred with a little gnomish assistance.
From there, the infamous boom-crack stick of the adventurer known as Sharpshot was born!
I had a chance to get a better name, but unfortunately, that bard disappeared. Sara thought as she picked out her loadout for the Dungeon dive. I got my revenge though banning that banal idiot from my stores was a sweet, sweet delight.
Guns gave her the same thrilling satisfaction she got twisting a man’s mind into putty. Pulling a trigger created an almost euphoric feeling of controlled murder which never got old. Looking around after putting her loadout of bullets into different pouches, she slung the rifle over her shoulder. Exiting the hidey hole, Sara lowered the trapdoor behind her. Grass carefully planted and maintained by honey-bribed faeries covered the underground entrance.
Sara glided through the forest toward the well-known Green Oakensoul Dungeon with glee steps. It was an extensive and deep complex populated by ever more powerful creatures. Dryads started at the top, and at the deepest, she’d reached as Sharpshot, Green Drakes held the territory.
Still, I suspect even a Dragon would fall with the right bullet. Sara thought as the guarded cavern appeared ahead.
