When I saw the feed from my Area Search sphere, I couldn't help but grin. No, more than that- the kind of smile that makes your cheeks hurt from the sheer intensity of it.
Pay dirt.I'd broken through the floor of L12 on the way up, carefully blasting a hole in the partially-slagged bit of it with a Magic Missile. The resulting hole was big enough to let the sphere through.
It turned out that this particular PMC either favored liquid assets, or didn't believe in banking, because the room I broke into on L12 was a wonderfully full vault. Stacks of credit chits were locked in a cage, off on one side of the room... and stacks of bills filled another cage on the opposite side.
Needless to say, I quickly widened the hole enough to slip through, blasted the cages open, and began to loot the crap out of the room. I knew there was a good reason I had these expandable bags on the utility belt. The chits filled one bag almost to the brim; the remaining space, along with half the other bag, got stuffed full of higher-value credit bills. Eh, why bother taking the rest? It'll just slow me down... besides, there's more rooms on this floor to loot.
Now, which one should I go to next?The vault had two doors, one on each side of the room. One of them was an immense slab of metal, so thick with AMF that it was evaporating my barriers at five paces. ...I'm... not sure I *could* break that thing down. Not from here, anyway, not easily, and not without blowing out half the floor. The other was a significantly less impressive (and less violently anti-magical) slab of metal. This, on the other hand, I can take out... and if I know my vault design, the outermost door is always the toughest. Given that, this door probably leads to another chamber.
A few seconds later, I stepped through the hole that was once a door, carefully avoiding the still-glowing edges, and walked into the next room... wincing as I saw the damage.
Glad I don't have to pay for it.The room I'd just walked into- with the exception of the great hole I'd blown in the far wall- resembled nothing more than a rich man's version of the place I'd stashed my laptop. The ceiling was paneled in glossy, ornately carved hardwood, as were parts of the walls, and a luxurious green carpet crinkled gently under my feet as I walked into the room. Lighting was provided by a set of three chandeliers, each one a slowly spinning constellation of glowing crystalline shards. A painting- a genuine, oil-on-canvas painting- hung on the wall to my right. It looked horribly expensive... but too large to fit in my bag.
The walls themselves were dominated by a strip of storage boxes, a full three feet long, running down both sides of the room. Judging by the boxes on the edge of the giant hole, they were full of jewelry, small-r relics, and other precious items.
Looks like stuff I could make off with... and I've got plenty of bag room for it. Now, the only question is how to unlock the doors. I could try to do this the sneaky way and hack the boxes, I suppose, but that would take FOREVER.
...of course, they could just be idiots, and use boxes whose doors stuck out from the actual wall. That makes things easy. Locks aren't a problem if they NO LONGER EXIST, after all.One spell later, I was very carefully positioning individual missiles near the door I came through, and the hole on the other side of the room. And that should do it! They're close enough to the wall to burn through the box doors, but not close enough to damage the contents... I hope. Well, let's give it a shot!
It took rather a few more missiles than I'd hoped. They kept exploding, instead of neatly demolishing the doors. Still, I was barely breathing hard by the time the doors were all open. Bag in hand, I took a run down each wall. ...mine, mine, broken, empty, empty, mine, too big, mine, broken, broken... and leaking some sort of goo..., mine, empty, mine, mi- is that a Relic? Yoink!- and mine!
...crap. Won't all fit in the bag. Let's see. Eat my energy bars, and stuff this stuff in those pouches. Still not quite enough. Maybe drain some credit chits?...okay, that did it. The bags close... barely. Time to face the last two floors.
My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.
I've been writing a bit.
Pay dirt.I'd broken through the floor of L12 on the way up, carefully blasting a hole in the partially-slagged bit of it with a Magic Missile. The resulting hole was big enough to let the sphere through.
It turned out that this particular PMC either favored liquid assets, or didn't believe in banking, because the room I broke into on L12 was a wonderfully full vault. Stacks of credit chits were locked in a cage, off on one side of the room... and stacks of bills filled another cage on the opposite side.
Needless to say, I quickly widened the hole enough to slip through, blasted the cages open, and began to loot the crap out of the room. I knew there was a good reason I had these expandable bags on the utility belt. The chits filled one bag almost to the brim; the remaining space, along with half the other bag, got stuffed full of higher-value credit bills. Eh, why bother taking the rest? It'll just slow me down... besides, there's more rooms on this floor to loot.
Now, which one should I go to next?The vault had two doors, one on each side of the room. One of them was an immense slab of metal, so thick with AMF that it was evaporating my barriers at five paces. ...I'm... not sure I *could* break that thing down. Not from here, anyway, not easily, and not without blowing out half the floor. The other was a significantly less impressive (and less violently anti-magical) slab of metal. This, on the other hand, I can take out... and if I know my vault design, the outermost door is always the toughest. Given that, this door probably leads to another chamber.
A few seconds later, I stepped through the hole that was once a door, carefully avoiding the still-glowing edges, and walked into the next room... wincing as I saw the damage.
Glad I don't have to pay for it.The room I'd just walked into- with the exception of the great hole I'd blown in the far wall- resembled nothing more than a rich man's version of the place I'd stashed my laptop. The ceiling was paneled in glossy, ornately carved hardwood, as were parts of the walls, and a luxurious green carpet crinkled gently under my feet as I walked into the room. Lighting was provided by a set of three chandeliers, each one a slowly spinning constellation of glowing crystalline shards. A painting- a genuine, oil-on-canvas painting- hung on the wall to my right. It looked horribly expensive... but too large to fit in my bag.
The walls themselves were dominated by a strip of storage boxes, a full three feet long, running down both sides of the room. Judging by the boxes on the edge of the giant hole, they were full of jewelry, small-r relics, and other precious items.
Looks like stuff I could make off with... and I've got plenty of bag room for it. Now, the only question is how to unlock the doors. I could try to do this the sneaky way and hack the boxes, I suppose, but that would take FOREVER.
...of course, they could just be idiots, and use boxes whose doors stuck out from the actual wall. That makes things easy. Locks aren't a problem if they NO LONGER EXIST, after all.One spell later, I was very carefully positioning individual missiles near the door I came through, and the hole on the other side of the room. And that should do it! They're close enough to the wall to burn through the box doors, but not close enough to damage the contents... I hope. Well, let's give it a shot!
It took rather a few more missiles than I'd hoped. They kept exploding, instead of neatly demolishing the doors. Still, I was barely breathing hard by the time the doors were all open. Bag in hand, I took a run down each wall. ...mine, mine, broken, empty, empty, mine, too big, mine, broken, broken... and leaking some sort of goo..., mine, empty, mine, mi- is that a Relic? Yoink!- and mine!
...crap. Won't all fit in the bag. Let's see. Eat my energy bars, and stuff this stuff in those pouches. Still not quite enough. Maybe drain some credit chits?...okay, that did it. The bags close... barely. Time to face the last two floors.
My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.
I've been writing a bit.