In Search of an Upgrade (Anthony solo)

Anthony worked quietly in the basement of his villa, hunched over a table. Beside him, a suit of armor hung from the ceiling on chains. Anthony gently turned the valve on the alchemical reactor core, carefully adjusting the rate at which the chemical reagents flowed into the reaction chamber. He double checked the transmutation sygiltry, then carefully affixed the entire system onto the back of the armor. The artificer carefully attached the various hoses, tubes, wiring, and cabling that allowed the system to drive his armor. Next came the thick metal plate that protected the entire assembly, carefully molded to fit tightly over the core, and began to bolt it into place. The end result was a sleek set of armor, form fitting and perfectly machined to match the natural movements of his own body. He began to add the rest of the hardware which would transform the armor from sleek and speedy to big and burly. A flash forge, designed to perform rapid (albeit limited) repairs on the fly. Thick, armored gauntlets designed for power-assisted unarmed combat. High density armor plates and, as the finishing touch, night vision goggles integrated into the helmet. He took a step back, appraising the bulky suit of armor. “God you’re sexy”.



He wiped his hands clean with a spare rag. The oil easily wiped away from his flesh hand, but had a tendency to hide in the seams of his metal hand. He spent a moment trying to wipe it out of the cracks with the corner of the rag, giving up once he had gotten most of it. He carefully removed the arm at the shoulder, setting it on his work table, and began the process of donning his armor. The entirety of the armor opened up at the back, allowing him to step into it. He felt a twinge of pain as his barren left shoulder connected with the suit, but a brief moment later it was gone. The same system that allowed him to use his prosthetic arm also allowed him to interface directly with the left arm of his armor, with the same level of control and dexterity as a flesh arm. The alchemical reactor core initialized, and the suit of armor began to close around him. Interlocking plates began to shift and move, slowly wrapping his body in reinforced steel and leather. The process took nearly ten minutes, but took little effort on his part.



The last few plates clicked into position and the powered joints unlocked, allowing him to move. His eyes flit over the small gems set inside the visor, some glowing faintly. They allowed him to monitor the suit, representing everything from power levels to structural damage. Satisfied that everything was working properly, he made his way towards the stairs. He took only two steps before he sighed in annoyance. The right knee was still lagging. It was a small annoyance, and had almost no bearing on the suits operation. Even so, it was annoying to feel the slight catch of misaligned gears. He did his best to ignore it as he made his way up the stairs and outside, into the morning light.



A carriage waited for him nearby, ready to take him out of the city to a nearby town. He climbed into the enclosed carriage, the whole thing groaning under his weight. The inside was sparse and stripped down; a necessity to fit his bulky armor comfortably. He signalled the driver that he was ready, and they began to roll down the street. They passed through the crowded streets of Waterdeep, finally reaching the outer gates and passing through them. They continued east, trundling along dirt roads.



The trip took over a day. Anthony busied himself by reading a book, deeply engrossed in a published recreation of a famous gnomes notebook. It was filled with ideas, observations, and half finished inventions. While the publisher claimed it was a faithful recreation of the notebook, Anthony couldn't help but suspect that some of the juicier and more functional bits had been omitted. Regardless, it was a good read. As night slowly crept upon them, the wagon stopped off long enough to swap drivers then continued on. Anthony put the book down, and settled in to sleep in the wagon.



The next day, the carriage rolled to a stop just outside the town, and Anthony climbed out. “I’ll be back soon”, he told the driver, before heading into the town proper. His heavy boots sank into the rich soil as he walked, the soft ground gradually turning to the hard packed dirt of a street. He quickly found the shop he was looking for; “Xanders Exotic Goods”. He had been in touch with Xander by letter, and had learned of a valuable metal ingot that had found its way into Xanders shop. From the description, it sounded as if it may be Star Metal; A rare alloy that could only be found in the heart of some meteors. It was incredibly rare, and possessed very unique properties. Its tensile strength was immense, given its weight. While he doubted it was the real thing, it was too rare of an opportunity to pass up.



He went into the shop, the old floorboards creaking with every step. The walls and shelves were lined with various oddities, most unrecognizable at first glance. A tiefling stood behind the counter. Anthony could only assume this was Xander. “Good afternoon, I am Anthony Allerton. I believe there is a metal ingot waiting for me?” The tiefling smiled broadly, like a man who had just ran into an old friend.



“Anthony! So good to meet you in person!” He moved out from behind the counter, quickly grasping Anthonys hand and giving it an enthusiastic shake. “Yes, yes! I have the ingot in the back room. Please give me just a moment!” His voice dropped, taking on a much more serious tone. “You need to leave”. Anthony could barely hear him, despite being only a foot away. “There are men waiting outside for you. I don’t know who they are, but they know you. They wish to ambush you”. His voice went back to normal just as quickly as it had changed the first time. “Please, look around! I’ll be right back”.



Sometimes Anthony hated being associated with his family. Being of noble birth already made him a target for muggings, kidnappings, and assassinations. The fact that his family had helped furnish a war didn’t do him any favors either. It was because of this that he wasn’t surprised by the ambush. He wasn’t expecting it, of course, but he wasn’t surprised.



Xander returned shortly, holding a small package wrapped in burlap. “This is it,” he whispered. “Those… men outside, they’re bad news. They showed up in town about a week ago. Whoever they are, they’ve been causing trouble around town. It’s put everyone on edge. Take care of them, and I’ll give it to you for half price”. He flashed a devilish grin. “It’s a good deal. We get rid of troublemakers, and you get the ingot. This thing is impossible to sell, as is.” Anthony nodded in agreement. It seemed he would have to confront these men regardless; getting a discount for his trouble was just a bonus.



“Stay inside until I come back in”, he told Xander. “Whatever you hear, just keep your head down”. Xander nodded and scurried off to the back room of the shop as Anthony turned back to the front door. No point in delaying. He pushed the old wooden door open and stepped out into the sunlight again. He was immediately greeted by three men, each armed to the teeth.



“Anthony Allerton! How good to see you!” the leader shouted. He was a burly half-orc, and annoyingly familiar. “Who would have thought we would run into you again? Seems like just yesterday we were robbing your family”. It was with that comment that Anthony realized where he had seen him before. His mind flashed back to that day, thousands of miles away, when his home had been robbed. He had lost his arm that night.



“Shouldn’t you be in jail right now?” Anthony inquired, watching as the men fanned out to surround him. “I know you got locked up, but I didn’t think you would be out so soon”.



The half-orc sneered. “Let’s just say we have a wealthy backer. Someone who wants you and your family gone”. He drew a sword in one hand, the other holding a wand. The other thugs drew their weapons as well, and looked ready to use them.



“Look, guys, we don’t have to make a big thing out of this. Just walk away and nobody gets hurt. We can pretend this never happened”.



The half-orc shook his head. “Not a chance. We take you down, and we are set for life.” The thug to Anthonys left charged, a warhammer held high overhead. He brought the heavy weapon crashing down on the artificer's shoulder, nearly driving him to the ground. A gem lit up red in Anthonys visor, signalling that the shoulder pauldron had been cracked by the blow. Anthony groaned and struggled to get his footing as another thug swung a vicious blow with an axe. Anthony reacted quickly, activating the force projector in his bracer. A faint blue shield made of energy sprang to life, narrowly blocking the attack. The shield collapsed back into nothing, the energy being redirected to repair his cracked pauldron. Anthony swung a gauntleted fist in retaliation. Metal knuckles slammed into the axe thugs stomach, a concussive blast sending him sprawling across the ground.



The leader pointed his wand, spoke an incantation, and sent a bolt of lightning arcing towards Anthony. He had just enough time to ready his elemental capacitors before the blast hit him, electricity arcing across the metal plates. The capacitors ate some of the blast, but it was still enough to cause him to double over in pain. Another hammer blow came down, directed at his back. The force projectors activated again, and Anthony watched as the power levels of his alchemical core quickly drained in an attempt to reinforce the shield against the massive attack. The leader followed up with another blast of lightning, which was thankfully blocked by the force projector.



Anthony took another swing with his armored fist, draining his elemental capacitors to blast the hammer thug with both a concussive blast and a powerful burst of electricity. The thug spasmed, falling to the ground. Anthony stood tall, facing down the leader. “You couldn’t handle me back then; what made you think you could take me out now?” The half-orc didn’t answer, choosing instead to fire another blast of lightning.



Anthony raised his arm to protect his head, gasping in pain as the full power of the attack slammed into him and arced through his body. “Stop doing that!” he shouted. He directed the flash forge to quickly construct a trio of explosives. Raw components were summoned and transmuted, forming three small projectiles. Each was imbued with a basic version of an animation spell, allowing them to pilot themselves in flight. A small compartment opened on his shoulder, and the missiles fired. They spiraled through the air, homing in on the thug. They all landed at once, exploding in small balls of fire. The thug staggered backwards but stayed standing. The thug charged, dropping the wand and grabbing his sword with both hands.He swung the blade in a wide arc, the weapon slamming into the side of Anthony's head. His vision swam as his head bounced off the inside of his helmet. More warning lights popped up in his visor. The thug swung again before Anthony could react, bringing the blade down on the artificer's arm. The blade dug in deep, cleaving through armored plates and thick leather. Had it been his real arm, he likely would have been gushing blood. Anthony swung wildly, his fist managing to connect with his foes bicep. The blow pushed him back, wrenching the blade free in the process.



The armor went to work repairing the damage, the metal plates slowly knitting themselves back together. Anthony stood and rolled his shoulders. “Seriously, this is getting ridiculous. Just walk away”.



“Not a chance, rich boy”. He hefted the sword again, ready to continue the fight. He swung again, sending the blade towards Anthony's head. The artificer ducked the blade, quickly bringing his arms up to block the follow up attack. The sword scraped off the plates of his forearms, leaving the half-orc open. Anthony took another swing, driving his fist into the thugs jaw. The thug stumbled back, shook his head, and spat out some blood. One of his tusks was broken, the missing piece now lodged in Anthonys metal knuckles. The door of the shop burst open behind Anthony. He turned to look, and saw Xander brandishing a wand.



“Duck!” The tiefling shouted. Anthony threw himself to the ground as a bolt of light streaked over his head. The light hit the thug in the chest, and blossomed into an enormous fireball. Anthony felt the wave of heat wash over him, and then it was over. There was no thug left. In his place was an enormous patch of burnt ground, and his sword. Anthony climbed to his feet and turned to Xander.



“Really? You can cast spells, and never thought to help me?” Xander shrugged.



“Magic wand. And that fireball will cost you”. Anthony nodded.



“That’s fair”. He picked the piece of tusk out of his knuckles and dropped it on the ground. “Now, about that ingot”. He followed Xander back inside, where the ingot sat on the counter. It looked like it was made of pearl, with a thin blue lacquer coating it. It was small; no larger than a padlock. “How much for it?” Xander chewed his lip and scribbled on a piece of scrap paper.



“Half price… the wand… let's call it four hundred gold”. Anthony grimaced inside his helmet. It was better than the original price, but it was still a lot for what he was getting. Assuming it was real, of course. He drummed his fingers on the counter in thought.



“Alright, four hundred. But if I get this home and find out you conned me, I will be back”. Xander gave him a devilish grin, and started writing up a receipt.



“You won’t regret this, I promise. And should you ever need other exotic goods, you certainly know where to find me”. Money changed hands, and Anthony was soon heading back out of town, to his carriage. He found himself pondering who had sent those thugs. When his home had been robbed all those years ago, he had assumed it was just a robbery. Just some thugs looking to take valuables from a rich family. But now, it was all different. Someone had put a price on his head. His family had too many enemies to be able to narrow it down to any one person. He would have to keep an eye out, do some digging, and maybe even hire an investigator. Whoever it was that was after him, they clearly had the resources to track him down across the continent.



He reached the carriage and climbed back inside, slumping on the bench and taking off his helmet. He carefully inspected the damage to his suit. It was scratched, cracked, and scorched. Not the worst he had seen, but far from the best. He got comfortable and settled in for a long ride. The sun was still hours from setting, but Anthony needed to rest after everything. He settled in, hoping to wake up back in Waterdeep. The gentle rocking of the carriage, paired with the adrenaline wearing off, slowly lulled him to sleep.



He was woken up when something slammed into the carriage. The whole side exploded into a shower of splinters, leaving a gaping hole. Anthony scrambled to put his helmet back on, locking it into place. The gems inside indicated that the alchemical reactor had recharged overnight, and was back to full power. He double checked the physical integrity of the suit, and clambering out of the wagon. Out in the morning sunlight he saw a half-orc. The half-orc. The one he saw explode just the day before. “Oh, you have to be kidding me. I saw you get cooked”.



“And yet I’m still here,” he grinned. “You may have surprised the attack yesterday, but today, there will be no interference”. Anthony clenched his fists, ready for a fight.



“Yesterday I took on three of you. You don’t stand a chance on your own”. The half-orc chuckled, and turned to walk back into the woods. “Oh, I won’t be fighting you. And I’m not alone”. Something hit Anthony in the back, hard. He was thrown off his feet, tumbling through the air and landing flat on his back. On top of the wagon stood a bugbear, smiling and wielding an enormous morningstar in one hand, and a shield in the other.



“I’ll leave you to play with my friend here,” the half-orc called out. “Have fun”.



Anthony groaned and struggled to his feet, gasping as he tried to put weight on his now cracked kneecap. He grunted and activated the first aid system. He grimaced with pain as he was injected with alchemical painkillers. The suit tightened around his knee, helping support his weight and prevent the bone from moving too much.



The bugbear dropped down onto the ground and hefted his morningstar onto his shoulder. “Gramisk tells me you’re quite the fighter”, the bugbear growled. “I don’t see it. I’m going to tear you limb from limb”. Anthony rolled his eyes. This banter was nowhere near as good as the day before.



“Look, I just want to go home. Whatever he’s paying you, I’ll double it”. The bugbear snarled in disgust.



“Bah! There's no honor in that!” Anthony shrugged and raised his hand.



“Well, I tried”. A bolt of fire launched from his forearm, streaking towards the bugbear. His foe pulled his shield up, easily blocking the attack. The goblinoid roared and charged, quickly closing the distance between them. He brought the morningstar down hard, and Anthony was barely able to dodge to the side. The artificer threw a punch into the bugbears kidney, driving the metal knuckles into the muscled hide. If it hurt, the bugbear didn’t show it. The morningstar swung again, catching Anthony in the ribs and driving the air out of his lungs. Anthony retaliated by pressing his hand to the bugbears chest, sending a burst of electricity coursing through his foes body. The bugbear bellowed in pain as his muscles convulsed, giving Anthony the window he needed to retreat. He directed the alchemical reactor to push more power to the joints of his suit, allowing him to dash away at great speed. He had barely hurt this thing, and he was already low on power.



The bugbear roared in anger, baring his fearsome teeth. “I will destroy you!” He drew a javelin from his back, throwing it at Anthony with terrifying strength and accuracy. The artificer twisted, the sharpened blade of the javelin scraping against his armored chest and bouncing away. Anthony fired three missiles into the air, which curved and honed in on the bugbear. They struck from all sides, the explosions enveloping the creature. The smoke and flames hadn’t cleared yet before the bugbear charged again, pure rage in its eyes. Anthony readied himself, throwing a massive haymaker as the bugbear neared. His gauntlet smashed into the bugbears ribs, and there was an audible cracking sound. The bugbear bellowed and kicked Anthony square in the chest, denting the armored plate. Anthony saw stars, and the status gems within his helmet flickered. That one blow had nearly shut down the suit entirely, and it was only pure luck that had saved him.



Anthony clamped his hands on either side of the bugbears head, and unleashed another blast of electricity. The bugbear roared, shaking and convulsing, before dropping to the ground. He twitched for several seconds, then stopped moving. Anthony breathed hard, watching the bugbear carefully for any signs of movement. Satisfied that it was done, he limped back to the remains of the carriage. The driver's mangled body still sat in the driver's seat. No doubt he had met his end at the hands of the bugbear. The horses were nowhere to be seen. He hoped they had been cut free, and were roaming the wild somewhere. Lifting himself up into the wreckage, Anthony gathered the precious metal ingot, his book, and some food, and stuffed it all into a bag. He threw the whole thing over his shoulder, and started limping towards Waterdeep.



It was hours before he saw anyone else. A traders wagon, heading in the direction Anthony had come from. He flagged down the driver, limped over, and leaned up against the cart. “Ambush… down the road… fifty gold if you take me to Waterdeep”. The trader was quick to agree, and helped Anthony up into the back of the wagon. The artificer did his best to get comfortable, using a sack of grain as a pillow, and soon passed out.



He woke when he felt the wheels of the wagon hit flagstone. They were just inside Waterdeep now. The wagon kept rolling as Anthony gave directions to his home. It only took another fifteen minutes to reach his villa, but it felt like an eternity. The sight of his home filled him with relief. He gingerly slid out of the back of the wagon, and grimaced as he put weight on his knee. The painkillers had worn off hours ago. He tossed the driver his coin and limped inside, tossing his bag of belongings onto a couch in the foyer. He made his way downstairs, into his workshop, and started the long process of removing his armor. The damage it had suffered interfered with its ability to open up, requiring him to manually remove everything. It should have taken only five minutes, but took closer to fifteen. When he was done he collapsed into his chair and sighed. He attached his prosthetic arm, and began to assess his wounds. His chest bore a massive bruise, reaching nearly shoulder to shoulder. It was already a deep purple, and tender to the touch. He carefully cut the leg off of his pants, to reveal that his knee had swollen to twice its size and nearly black. That one would definitely need more than just some rest and ice. He slumped in his chair again, and looked at his armor. What had been clean and pristine the day before was now dented, scratched, cracked, and scorched. It would take hours to fix. But that was a problem for later.



Using a wooden plank as a crutch, he made his way back upstairs and outside. There was a church just around the corner and, with any luck, some clerics were still hanging around. He must have looked strange, hobbling through the streets with no shirt on. He didn’t really care. Every passing moment, the ache in his knee got worse. He needed help.



He reached the church and barged in, Someone, perhaps a preacher, turned to scold him, but stopped when he saw Anthony's wounds. “My god, what happened to you?” he moved to help support Anthony, helping him deeper into the church.



“Bandits. Barely survived. Need cleric.” It was a struggle just to speak. His chest felt like it was on fire. He was shown to a private room, where the preacher helped him lay down on a cot. The preacher left, and was replaced by a cleric just a moment later. The holy man wasted no time, and set to work using magic to heal Anthony. The pain was intense, and Anthony could feel himself fading in and out of consciousness and the cleric worked. At some point he faded out, and stayed out.



He woke up later, still in the cot. The bruise on his chest was now a faint red, nearly gone. His knee, while still hurting, was no longer swollen or discolored. He eased himself off the cot, testing his weight on his knee. It hurt, but he could walk on it. He left some coins on the cot and shuffled out of the church, to find that the sun had set. It was a short trip home, where he collapsed in his bed and fell asleep again.



The next day, he felt even better. He quickly dressed, and headed out from his home. His armor was still much too damaged to be wearing, but that was okay. He didn’t think he had the energy to deal with it anyways. He made for the nearest guard station, where he inquired about starting an investigation into the attack. He was dismayed to learn that it was outside of Waterdeep jurisdiction, but was referred to an independent investigator.



The address he was given was on the other side of town. An old tavern, nearly devoid of customers. In the corner sat a man that matched the description the guard had given him. Anthony slid into the booth, sitting opposite from the man. “Stephen Ward?” The man looked up from his coffee and nodded. “I was told you could help me”.