Nightclown tried another combination. He still had plenty of [Iron Ores] from earlier dungeon delves. And he'd also acquired some [Mana Crystals] from the Stone Imps.
He dropped one [Iron Ore] and one [Mana Crystal] into each designated place. And one coin.
The Projectileomatic 5000 repeated its performance. Swoosh, bubbling tubes, whirring gears, shaking, buzzing... Ding! Ten new darts appeared. These were metallic. with a faint blue aura shimmering around their tips.
He inspected them.
[Silencing Iron Dart]
[Type: Blowgun Ammunition]
[Tier Quality: ✪]
[Effect: Inflicts [Silenced] status on target. Prevents target from casting spells or using vocal abilities for 12 seconds. It does not stack with itself. But duration resets.]
[Description: A dart crafted from an Iron Ore and a Mana Crystal. Ideal for disrupting spellcasters or preventing alarm calls.]
Another tactical gem. Silencing darts would be perfect for dealing with enemy spellcasters. Or even preventing a monster from roaring for reinforcements.
This added a whole new layer of crowd control. And priority target neutralization. His Rogue class was all about control and precise strikes. And these darts fit the bill perfectly.
Nightclown's experimental streak wasn't finished. He had one more set of materials he wanted to try.
[Mystic Iron Ore] and [Gloomblack Silk]. He had stolen the silk from the Gloomfang Spiders in the dungeon's fourth floor. He fed them into the machine, along with the necessary coin.
The Projectileomatic 5000 went through its familiar sequence again. But this time, the bubbling liquids turned a murky black. And the machine emitted a low, guttural groan before the... Ding!
Ten more darts emerged. These were dark. Almost black in color. With a faint, sticky-looking sheen.
[Immobilizing Mystic Iron Dart]
[Type: Blowgun Ammunition]
[Tier Quality: ✪✪]
[Effect: Inflicts [Immobilized] status on target. Prevents target from moving for 12 seconds. It does not stack with itself. But duration resets.]
[Description: A dart crafted from a Mystic Iron Ore and a Gloomblack Silk. Crucial for locking down fast-moving threats or creating an escape window.]
Nightclown nodded. He understood now the role of each material. The first one was for the frame. Determining the tier quality.
[Iron Ore] and [Chomper's Teeth] were basic materials. So they only gained one-star tier quality. [Mystic Iron Ore] was better material. So, it could get two-star tier quality.
The second material was for the effect. [Jelly Cube] was for weakening. [Mana Crystal] was for silencing. And [Gloomblack Silk] was for immobilizing.
Immobilization! Nightclown's grin widened further. His soft whiskers were practically vibrating with satisfaction. Immobilization! This was incredible. It provided vital crowd control or escape options.
Against a fast-moving enemy, it could create an opening for a devastating follow-up attack. Or simply allow him to reposition safely.
If he used this dart followed by [Weakening Bone Dart]... This meant he could potentially lock down an enemy. Apply weakening. And then go in for the kill with his nunchaku or spear. The synergy was clear.
He had hit the jackpot with these projectile types. His rogue toolkit had just expanded dramatically. Stealth, precision, control, and de-buffs... The [Ambusher Blowgun] and its specialized darts were a perfect fit for him.
"This is fantastic!" Nightclown exclaimed. His toon avatar practically bouncing. "These darts are incredibly useful!"
Mr. Gorhammer had been observing with a pleased expression. He puffed out his chest. "Told you the Projectileomatic 5000 was a marvel! It's all about the right ingredients, and a little bit of toon mystery, eh?"
Nightclown was now eager to stock up. He started to prepare his inventory. He had ample materials. And a clear understanding of what he wanted.
"I need a hundred darts of each." He stated. Decisively.
He began feeding the machine. Nine gold, nine [Chomper's Teeth] and nine [Jelly Cubes] went in. Sequentially. The machine swooshed, buzzed, and dinged nine times. Producing nine more stacks of ten [Weakening Bone Darts].
Then, nine [Iron Ores] and nine [Mana Crystals] for the [Silencing Iron Darts].
Finally, nine [Mystic Iron Ores] and nine [Gloomblack Silks] for the [Immobilizing Iron Darts]. This one hurt the most. He only had one [Mystic Iron Ore] and two [Gloomblack Silks] left in his inventory.
The process was rhythmic. Almost hypnotic. The machine hummed. Producing its cartoonish symphony of mechanical sounds. While Nightclown efficiently managed his materials and collected the output.
Soon, his inventory felt satisfyingly full with a new array of ranged options. He now had 300 darts. With three specialized effects. A formidable supply for his dungeon explorations.
He put the [Ambusher Blowgun] in his inventory. Feeling its convenience. Able to be drawn anytime.
He was eager to test his new tools in the dungeon. His mind was already formulating strategies. Imagining how he could combine his rogue skills with these debilitating projectiles.
Nightclown turned towards the smithy's exit. Ready to say goodbye to Mr. Gorhammer and head back to the North Dungeon.
But, Mr. Gorhammer called him. "Oh, Little Bunny! Just a moment."
Nightclown paused. Looking back at the large gorilla.
"Before you head off for more monster mashing..." Mr. Gorhammer rumbled. "You might want to pay a visit to Mr. Hamaball. The balloon maker. Over by the village pond. He's a bit… well, airy. But he can teach you very useful skills for various prices. Might come in handy for you."
Nightclown's ears perked up. New skills? That was always a priority. Dungeon grinding could wait a little while. Skills, especially useful utility skills, were often more impactful.
He mentally added (Find Mr. Hamaball) to his immediate to-do list.
"Mr. Hamaball?" Nightclown repeated. Storing the information. "Alright, Sir! I'll go see him. Thank you, Mr. Gorhammer, for everything!"
With a grateful nod and a determined stride, Nightclown exited the smithy. Moving with a new objective in mind. The North Dungeon would have to wait. There was a balloon maker to find.
The walk from Mr. Gorhammer's Smithy to the Village Pond was short. But Nightclown treated it like a timed expedition. Every second in Toonworld should be a quantifiable progress. He had limited time here after all.
He used [Sprint!] and moved quickly through the stylized streets. The colorful buildings blurred slightly as he moved.
Cammy, the semi-sentient recording device, trailed him silently. A small, floating device capturing the visual data stream. The camera's lens occasionally adjusted itself. Attempting to get the highest possible quality of footage.
The village pond was a placid circle of unnaturally blue water. Surrounded by neatly manicured cartoon flora. Near the edge, stood Nightclown's destination. Amidst a cluster of oversized water lilies.
The place itself was less of a shop. And more like a freestanding, impossibly round structure. Seemingly inflated. Just like the very goods it was supposed to produce.
Brightly colored balloons of every imaginable shape bobbed languidly around the entrance. Square, helical, and even some that defied geometric description. Each was tethered by invisible toon strings.
Nightclown stopped abruptly before the entrance. His objective was clear.
Inside the spherical shop was Mr. Hamaball. Sitting on a low, oversized stool. Behind a work surface littered with tubing and rubbery material.
The blacksmith had described him as 'airy'. Nightclown immediately noted the physical description was quite fitting. Mr. Hamaball was a fat anthropomorphic wombat.
He was truly big. His fur was of a rich, earthy brown color. Stretched taut over a rotund frame. O that suggested a dedication to comfort over athleticism. He was currently inflating a miniature, blue elephant balloon. All with a practiced, rhythmic series of puffs.
The air in the shop smelled faintly of rubber. And of something sweet, like spun sugar.
"Excuse me, Sir!" Nightclown stated. "I came here on the recommendation of Mr. Gorhammer. I require training in your useful skills."
Mr. Hamaball paused his inflation. The blue elephant temporarily held captive between his large, padded hands.
He looked up at Nightclown. The tiny toon hare in the strange ninja attire. The wombat squinted. His small eyes assessing the newcomer.
"Gorhammer, eh?" The wombat rumbled. His voice was surprisingly deep. "That old brute knows utility when he sees it. Good market sense, that one. Yes, I teach some useful skills."
Mr. Hamaball slowly reached under his workbench. His bulk was shifting slightly. He pulled out a simple, wooden placard. Apparently the menu of services. He held it up for Nightclown to read.
Mr. Hamaball's Skill Offerings...
o [Pop!] Effect: Distract opponents with a loud, sharp popping sound. Price: 500 Coins.
o [Puff!] Effect: Blow a powerful blast of air from the mouth. Price: 2,000 Coins.
o [Balloon!] Effect: Swell the body with internal air and float slowly upwards. Price: 12,000 Coins.
Nightclown absorbed the information instantly. He rapidly calculated the cost-benefit ratio of each skill offering against his current coin reserves.
The process of selection was cold and purely strategic.
[Pop!]. Five hundred coins was quite cheap. Distraction was one of the cores of Rogue ability. A loud sound could break enemy concentration. Or disrupt casting. Or draw attention away from a critical target.
It was valuable. But loud. Did he really need this skill at the moment?
[Balloon!]. Twelve thousand coins. Quite expensive. The mobility boost... slow, controlled ascent and descent, was a massive advantage for exploration or escape over obstacles. It was an ultimate utility skill for bypassing traps or difficult terrain.
However, 12,000 coins were quite a lot. Furthermore, the skill described slow floating. Bad news for combat. High price, high utility, but low immediate combat return. Should he buy it?
[Puff!]. Two thousand coins. Mid-range cost. The description was... 'a powerful blast of air from mouth'. This was definitely what he required now.
He had just bought an {Ambusher Blowgun]. And, the driving force of the projectile in that weapon was obviously... the air blow from his mouth and lungs.