Copyright © 2020 Han Yang.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or
transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying,
recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the
prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief
quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other
noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
ASIN: TBD
Any references to historical events, real people, or real places
are used fictitiously.
Names, characters, and places are products of the author’s
imagination.
Acknowledgements
Thank you for giving a new author a shot. This book is
dedicated to my crazy children, loving wife, and the cat. Huge
shout out to El Geron whose deviant account for commissions is in
the back of the book. Actually the cat made this tougher, always
hitting keys when I’m not looking. I’ll get you Spooky…
Table of Contents
CHAPTER
1
CHAPTER
2
CHAPTER
3
CHAPTER
4
CHAPTER
5
CHAPTER
6
CHAPTER
7
CHAPTER
8
CHAPTER
9
CHAPTER
10
CHAPTER
11
CHAPTER
12
CHAPTER
13
CHAPTER
14
1
11
18
24
31
48
55
59
71
78
88
96
106
125
CHAPTER
15
CHAPTER
16
CHAPTER
17
CHAPTER
18
CHAPTER
19
CHAPTER
20
CHAPTER
21
CHAPTER
22
CHAPTER
23
CHAPTER
24
CHAPTER
25
CHAPTER
26
CHAPTER
27
CHAPTER
28
INTERMISSION
1
CHAPTER
29
133
145
154
165
172
177
195
209
216
223
231
241
253
263
274
277
CHAPTER
30
CHAPTER
31
CHAPTER
32
CHAPTER
33
CHAPTER
34
CHAPTER
35
CHAPTER
36
CHAPTER
37
CHAPTER
38
CHAPTER
39
CHAPTER
40
CHAPTER
41
CHAPTER
42
CHAPTER
43
CHAPTER
44
CHAPTER
45
287
300
313
320
329
343
348
356
368
381
392
399
408
423
430
437
CHAPTER
46
CHAPTER
47
CHAPTER
48
CHAPTER
49
CHAPTER
50
CHAPTER
51
CHAPTER
52
INTERMISSION
2
CHAPTER
53
CHAPTER
54
CHAPTER
55
CHAPTER
56
CHAPTER
57
CHAPTER
58
CHAPTER
59
CHAPTER
60
449
459
472
478
486
492
498
514
519
528
538
547
559
572
580
600
CHAPTER
61
CHAPTER
62
CHAPTER
63
CHAPTER
64
CHAPTER
65
CHAPTER
66
CHAPTER
67
INTERMISSION
3
CHAPTER
68
CHAPTER
69
CHAPTER
70
CHAPTER
71
CHAPTER
72
CHAPTER
73
CHAPTER
74
CHAPTER
75
610
628
640
662
675
684
695
703
707
721
729
746
759
765
772
788
Afterword
793
SAMPLE OF REBORN AS A BARON
LORD
795
CHAPTER 1
Los Angeles - Outside a Starbucks
17 June 2031
“Now that, I find interesting,” Caitlyn said in a sultry tone. “Please
tell me more.”
I smiled, eying the brunette. My pause resulted in her tapping the
table impatiently.
We sat outside the coffee shop people watching. The busy crowd
outside the railed fence drifted by while she focused solely on me. Basking
in the early afternoon’s rays, I took the opportunity to reflect.
“I started working at the library as a janitor. Honest to God’s truth,”
I said, and she winced.
If I had to guess, the combination of me admitting I was a janitor
probably hit her as hard as mentioning God in California.
A drone delivered our drinks and I popped the top off mine, letting
the rising steam waft a lovely scent of white chocolate my way.
Call me old fashioned, but when a lovely lady showed interest in
me or picked up on the fact I was interested in her, I asked them out on an
actual date.
“I promise to get to the point you’re so eager to hear. The library
became my bastion, my refuge. I graduated high school, never quitting my
part time work. Two years later, I finished my degree in computer systems
and website design,” I said with a distant stare, trying to remember the time
fondly.
A honking horn from the street traffic resulted in a homeless man
getting into a shouting match with the driver. The brief distraction forced
me to continue a moment later.
“So, I found myself with a choice. Take a gig at a small malpractice
corporate office or continue being a librarian’s assistant. One earned a lot,
the other a pittance and meant I’d have to get a master’s degree in library
science to lose the assistant title,” I said with a sigh.
“Yes, yes, all great,” Caitlyn said, edging herself over the table to
lean closer to me. “What about your ex-girlfriends and current lovers? That
was where you set the hook. Now reel me in.”
The woman’s seductive appearance held my attention. A diving
neckline exposed ample soft flesh. She caught me staring, batting her
eyelashes as if she were some innocent girl.
She pulled her hair back in a neat ponytail that she swirled then
twirled around her fingers, out of habit. Her hazel eyes sparkled
mischievously, and I fidgeted under her intense gaze. The woman oozed sex
appeal and I felt outclassed.
“I’ve never had a girlfriend. Twenty-five years old and not once
have I had a relationship long enough to call someone that. I had this talk
with my parents before they passed,” I said, about to launch into my routine
for justifying no-strings sex.
She interjected, laying a delicate hand on top of my forearm. “I’m
so sorry. I’m sure they wish they were here to see the man you’ve grown
into.”
“Life is fickle, and although I do miss them, my point is that
relationships lead to disappointment when short term fun leads to long term
problems. To me, it’s like taking that job with the malpractice office. I’d be
happy with the money, but I wouldn’t want a career there. I could date a
girl, but I don’t want to get married,” I admitted.
“But you like the soft touch of a woman?” she asked bluntly.
It was 2031 and ladies were more assertive and confident than ever.
I had been asked for coffee or for my number by many beautiful
women while at work. Being a handsome librarian’s assistant certainly had
its perks.
In this case, Caitlyn told me she was from Vegas. She was visiting a
friend, who’d mentioned that my looks and carefree, fun attitude would
make for a good catch during her trip to town. I caught on to the situation
quickly and accepted the invitation and now we were talking about sex.
“Yeah, I’m a young man who loves a fun tryst, just not ready to
settle down. That seems to be the kicker for a lot of my dates. I don’t want
you bringing a toothbrush over or asking why I didn’t set my status to ‘in a
relationship,’” I said honestly with a halfhearted shrug.
I always tried to make my intentions clear; I’d found that honesty
was usually my most successful strategy.
“Bree said you’re not a player, but I can see how it comes off that
way. Well Damien, I’m a bit of an oddball myself. I’m a believer in Wicca,”
Caitlyn said. “Being a Wiccan tends to drive men off—sends them running
for the hills.”
Probably was best that I hadn’t said God accepted my parents into
heaven, earlier. I didn’t like to be preachy, but I didn’t judge either.
“Okay,” I said. “As long as you don’t try to convert me, I’ll try to
be understanding.”
“Oof,” Caitlyn said with a cringe. “Sheesh, this will sound bad, and
I promise no converting or brainwashing, but… I need a man for… a ritual.
To take some oaths over a decagon door.”
Her sorrowful eyes relaxed from their squint and switched to a
happy gaze, with a big smile. “And then we can grab a drink at my hotel
room. Yes, a drink sounds lovely.” She winked. “And by a drink, I mean we
strip naked and do the kind of things to each other that require a shower…
during or after.” She smirked.
I frowned, eyeing the lovely woman in a whole new darkness.
I popped my coffee’s lid on and sipped the delightful drink. White
chocolate in coffee, divine.
Sheet wrestling after a ritual with a Wiccan? Unique, and yet just
another day in California.
She bit her bottom lip, her bedroom eyes locking to mine as if
willing me to capitulate.
I struggled, fighting a sudden urge to agree, and I didn’t know why.
“This ritual, I assume you believe it to be real?” I asked, leaning
back to watch her reaction.
Caitlyn adjusted her ponytail, showcasing her assets. The woman
sure knew how to tease a man.
Without missing a beat, she said, “I do. If successful, my ritual will
send you to a new realm. Not sure what you'll arrive as, but to return you’ll
need to achieve a whole lotta power. Power that also accrues to me, if you
succeed.”
I snickered, trying not to laugh, lest I offend.
“Where’s this ritual, how long is it, and what if it fails?” I asked.
Halloween, dark closets, scary movies, and rustling under the bed
didn’t spook me.
Clowns, though... those assholes were terrifying, but the
supernatural always failed to feel real to me.
“Look, I think you’re cute and nice,” she fidgeted, “I feel awkward
even asking. I’m staying at a Motel Six that’s only twenty minutes away.
It’ll take ten minutes for the ritual, give or take, and if my Wiccan ritual
fails, I’ll reward you,” she admitted. “Honestly, I wanna reward you
anyway, but I do need the help first.”
I eyed her speculatively. It was my day off, and honestly, this
wasn’t the oddest thing a woman had ever asked me to do.
I shuddered, thinking of Tiffany and her toe fetish with baby dolls.
“A quick ritual and then that ‘drink’?” I offered.
“Perfect,” she said, scooting her seat back.
A Tesla Auto-Taxi picked us up from the curb a few minutes later.
Like a pent-up lioness, she leaped into my lap as soon as the door
closed. The robotic voice told Caitlyn to stop kissing my neck in the back
seat, spoiling the fun.
“Ugh… I don’t want to walk. I guess this is a good time to tell you
about Nordan,” Caitlyn said, adjusting to sit beside me.
“The who to the what now?” I asked playfully.
“An old tale. Do you like stories?” she asked. I slung an arm
around her shoulder, nodding. “Nordan was an expansive realm that became
so… boring. Humans were not much different than they were here - during
the Middle Ages. They lived, farmed, dug, fished, and toiled to put food on
the table. All this was done with animals, grit, and determination.”
“Not an Earth story?” I asked.
She shook her head.
“Hells below, not in the slightest. This planet is in our universe and
linked to Earth. Same orbit, same seasons, different continents, different
reasons. Nordan was transformed by a horrific magic that coated the land in
a deep mist. Following me so far?”
I stared out at the traffic, seeing a driverless solar-paneled vehicle
swerve to avoid a pothole. The city had never recovered after three years of
quarantine. Everywhere my eyes shifted, they revealed depressing scenes of
what had once been a great state.
I gazed down at the shorter woman, noticing how little she cared
about the poor at the side of the road, huddled in tents.
“Nordan, not Earth, no electricity, bad magic, has humans,” I
summarized.
Caitlyn continued.
“The mist soaked the land and consumed everything trapped in its
grasp. Humans at higher elevations watched as their brethren vanished. The
expected cries for help from those lost never reached the ears of those eager
to lend aid.
“The great kings sent valiant knights into the magic to assess the
situation, but to the last, they never returned. Even their horses disappeared
into the magic.”
“So, the higher elevation kingdoms got a pass?” I asked with a
scoff.
Caitlyn smiled and said, “They did… and they did not. The spell
was not that black and white and for a full year both worlds that were linked
together suffered. And then, like that…” She snapped her fingers. “The
magic vanished on the first anniversary.”
My gaze returned out the window, the despair of Los Angeles
sticking a stake in my heart. I used to love this town as a kid. These days, I
dreamed of fanciful lands or read books to escape reality.
“Let me guess, those caught in the mist became zombies?” I
queried, having seen a similar themed movie recently.
“Better and worse than that, depending on whom you ask. Those
caught by the spell ceased to exist on Nordan. Their homes, tilled fields,
and hard-won civilization all vanished with them. Some theorize that the
monsters who now roam those territories are actually humans, but they’re
not. The blighted are creations swapped from an overfilled world to
Nordan,” Caitlyn said.
I grunted, growing tired of seeing the traffic. I focused on Caitlyn
and her Nordan story. “You’ve lost me. Some weird magic wiped out
several human civilizations and replaced them with… mythical creatures
referred to as the blighted?”
“Good, good, you’re getting the picture in here,” Caitlyn said,
tapping my forehead. “Sometimes, pretending is more important than
seeing.”
“Yes, I do love a good book, even more than a good movie,” I
agreed.
“Nordan is special. I hope you sense that from my tale. There are a
few worlds where magicians can bind, alter, affect, and warp reality; well,
realities, really. In this case, a sorceress of untold power cast a spell across
two worlds.
“She sent the humans on Nordan to Ostriva, while Ostriva’s
mythical residents were sent to Nordan… with a few alterations,” Caitlyn
said, the last bit sounding a bit ominous.
“Alterations?” I asked.
“A simple way to track the achievers from the useless. The
competition rewards greatness. At its most basic, two sides compete for
boons by killing each other. Simple really, and built that way on purpose for
all to understand,” Caitlyn replied, her condescending tone making me feel
like I was a fifth grader.
“Why?” I asked. “All good stories need a reason.”
We arrived outside a rather typical California motel; vagrant
infested but cheap. I suddenly had second thoughts about helping Caitlyn
but somehow found the courage to exit the vehicle.
She was on vacation and there were a thousand cameras around.
Hell, even the taxi had been recording us.
Maybe this was the only hotel room she could afford. Yeah, that
had to be it.
Caitlyn waggled a key with one hand, dragging me forward with
the other.
“The why is simple,” she continued. “The planets became stale and
boring. Believe it or not, even as a Wiccan who believes in the goddess and
the horned god, I know there are many gods. We each have our Deities to
serve,” she said this in a way that made it seem like it was common
knowledge.
The crunch of grit under my shoes changed to a squish. I refused to
look down to see what I’d stepped in.
The seedy motel disturbed me for a number of reasons. I might not
be rich, but I liked to think I had standards.
Caitlyn led us under a second-floor walkway, comparing the
scribble on her key to each door’s number.
“Basically, both worlds became embroiled in a war that pitted one
against the other in a competition for dominance. Ostriva had hundreds of
mighty species while humanity had its strength in governments, swords,
cavalry, and arrows. To increase the chaotic nature of the competition, the
gods added magic to the mix,” Caitlyn said.
“But why do you call it a competition?” I asked.
She gave me a teasing frown for my impatient interruption. “Both
sides gather something called Zorta. By gather, I mean they cultivate it from
those they kill. If you're an Ostrivan minotaur, for example, and you kill a
human, you gain their Zorta.
“Zorta is what gives the gods their power. The problem is, they
cannot collect it themselves—and it must be given freely.”
“If this minotaur is a champion of, say, Torbearn the Fearless, and
he achieves 10,000 Zorta. Torbearn can trade the champion a wish for his
Zorta,” Caitlyn said, tossing her hand side to side. “Within reason.”
“Can’t Torbearn just wish for Zorta, solving the whole need for all
of this bloodletting?” I asked.
“Not how stories, gods, or real-life work. Nothing in this universe
is free. Even death has a cost, and trust me, we Wiccans know,” Caitlyn
said, and I paused as she unlocked the motel room door. “Yeah, that came
out wrong.” She frowned. “I’m a hundred-pound girl with fake tits. You’re
six-foot-three and fit. I’m the one who should be worried about going into
the roach infested motel.”
“So, your story, this is what you believe you're doing this ritual
for?” I asked curiously.
“The skinny of it, yes,” she said, bouncing her eyebrows at me.
She entered the room and I hesitated.
“You know, I don’t believe in the supernatural,” I said, staying
outside the door.
“I need to get down to my underwear, if that helps you find your
recalcitrant courage,” she said with a snort.
I gulped and stormed the breach like a hero.
The second I entered the room, two things hit me hard. First off,
Caitlyn was clad only in a tiny thong, with a lacy bra. The seductive outfit
enhanced, rather than covered her flawless body.
I gawked.
The next was that the bed sheets, mattress, and even box springs
had been set against the wall. In the very center of the room was a ten-sided
shape outlined with crow feathers.
“The decagon you mentioned, interesting,” I muttered, a bit in
disbelief.
“Close the door, please. I wasn’t kidding.” She waved a key card
for a Hilton room. “If the ritual doesn’t work, which it probably won’t since
you don’t believe in the supernatural, then we can leave the roaches behind,
go to my room and get busy. We can pop vacation champaign along with
our ‘drink’. It was a very long journey to get here.”
I glanced down at my phone. It was only two in the afternoon, and I
had no texts. I sent a random ‘I love you’ to my mom’s old cell number—
the one she’d had before she died. Like always, no one replied, but it
always made me feel better.
“Aright,” the gorgeous Wiccan instructed. “Strip down to your
undies, and then sit cross legged in the center of the decagon. Careful you
don’t shift any of the feathers. After that, I’m going to poke my finger until
it wells a drop of blood. The blood goes on your lips or in your mouth. Your
pick,” she said.
“Just a drop?” I asked.
“Just the tip,” she teased and rolled her eyes. “Yes, a simple drop.”
“Lips are fine, I guess,” I shrugged, stripping my clothes off and
sitting carefully in the middle of the circle.
Caitlyn stuck a finger into her mouth and nicked it on a sharp tooth.
When the blood touched my lips, I winced a bit. Can’t say I was a
huge fan of the iron taste.
“Actually, finger in, sorry,” she said, sliding her finger into my
mouth.
I wanted to protest, but she started to chant.
“The Zorta is power, and power is life. The Zorta is power, and
power is life. I bring a willing champion to gather me Zorta. Cultivate for
me ten thousand Zorta, and I’ll return your parents to the living. If you die,
you fail. Don’t you want to see your parents again?” Caitlyn asked.
I scoffed, about to get upset.
“I mean no ill will. Just, if you could see your parent’s again, would
you want to?” she asked sweetly.
I nodded a bit, placated by her amazing figure.
“Great. Keep my finger in your mouth and repeat after me. Use
your own name, though. I, Caitlyn the Temptress,” she paused.
I chuckled at her fake goddess name.
“I, Damien Wilhimer,” I said.
She continued, “Enter into a contract for Zorta. The champion will
visit Nordan and reap ten thousand Zorta in exchange for restoration of his
parents from death. So I swear to the great Creator.”
I repeated the words after her, not certain if the great Creator she
was referring was God.
I may have been distracted during this bit.
My eyes had focused on her thigh gap, ensuring she didn’t have a
weapon hidden there—beyond her weaponized looks, which were deadly
enough. Occasionally, my gaze raked up her lean abs to those supple
breasts. When I forced my eyes higher, I noted no malice in her gaze or in
her motions.
She didn’t make any sudden movements or reach behind her where
she might have stashed a weapon. My hands were free for me to defend
myself the entire time.
I wasn’t scared of this woman.
Did I find her ritual silly? Absolutely.
But it was 2031 in California, and a beautiful half-naked woman
telling me some fantastic story, thinking she would gain god powers from
some hokey ritual, wasn’t the craziest thing I’d heard this week.
“We're done?” I asked.
She nodded sadly. “Maybe you weren’t the right man to be my
champion. Sorry I offered to save your parents.”
“I don’t think they would mind. Like I said, I’m not big into
superstitions.” I snorted. “I almost wish your ritual would have worked.
Nordan sounds like fun,” I lied.
“You don’t mean that, but I understand. I’ll honor my word as a
Temptress. We’ll share a drink and some hot tub fun in my penthouse.”
I nodded eagerly.
“A final question. If I could really bring your parents back, would
you take my offer? I mean, really consider the offer,” she said, stressing ‘the
offer’.
I frowned, mulling over the proposal.
“How would that even work?” I asked. “Would they be younger
than they should be, with missing memories, or would I be in a different
reality? Because everyone else would know they were dead or this reality
would be gone and I’d be me in a new body?”
“Nope, no,” she said, wagging a finger with one hand, her other
hand on her hip.
I became transfixed by her large, jiggling breasts as they moved
naturally.
I shook my head, trying to focus, even if she was quite the
temptress.
“I would set them up on an island resort with a lot of cash and fake
identities. When they adjust I’ll tell them the truth. Stay dead or live as Mr.
and Mrs. Smith,” Caitlyn said.
“While I like this ‘what if’ game, I’m in a ritual involving crow
feathers, in my underwear, and I feel a goddess could just change our
reality,” I said.
“Nope, bringing them back would be a huge burden and barely
worth me earning ten thousand Zorta, but a goddess takes what she can
get,” Caitlyn said, firmly believing her words.
“I do like the ‘temptress’ touch. Your boobs seem real too,” I said
with a winning smile.
She rolled her eyes. “They are and yeah, I was Caitlyn the Deviant
in my earlier years. I prefer to keep things simple now. So, how about it? If
you parents had ample money and new identities in a small island resort
community, would you be interested?”
This was kinda fun. I was starting to like Caitlyn for her zaniness.
Her tempting body certainly helped win me over.
I stood and said, “Yeah, I would honor the ritual. I don’t see how it
would be possible but—”
An aura flickered around her form and the decagon below my feet
flared orange.
I furled my brows in confusion.
“Uh… what’s going on?” I asked.
“Finally! That did the trick. Sit, hurry or -”
I spun, trying to flee.
The hell with sitting. The decagon opened into a sinking swirling
vortex, sucking my feet into the floor of the motel room.
Inch by inch, the ritual ate my body. My grunting efforts to pull
myself out achieved nothing.
Caitlyn stared down at me as her ritual circle brightened.
The orange glow revealed the Temptress’s black wings and spiked
tail. I screamed in rage, desperate to be free of the pull, not understanding
what was happening.
My hips sunk below the floor and the magic howled until it
deafened me. I saw her lips move slowly.
‘Good luck.’
With a massive tug, the ritual completed, and I was yanked from
the motel room into a void of blackness.
My final, fleeting thought before the darkness swallowed me was
that I no longer liked Caitlyn the Temptress or her Wiccan ways.
CHAPTER 2
Location Unknown
“Mother of mercy,” I groaned, feeling miserable.
My mind reeled in confusion.
Why had my body been sent through a washing machine of pain
and agony?
I smacked my lips and shuddered when a fly flew out of my mouth.
My feeble arm tried to swat the insect away.
Fluttering my eyes open, I saw a thatched roof above me.
Huh?
A hammock restricted my vision, but I was determined to see more.
With a groan, my efforts to raise myself from the contraption failed me.
Why am I in a hammock?
The motel bed?
The wiccan!
My mind raced to catch up, desperate to sort the calamity that
befell me earlier.
Hmm… a gorgeous woman, expensive lingerie, and then a ritual
where I sunk into a black void.
“That bitch,” I managed to say through parched and cracked lips.
I shivered and my breath frosted from a large exhale.
That’s odd.
My next breath out seemed normal.
“I’m so damn cold, but the air is warm,” I said with confusion
Using my arms to simply sit upright felt like a mountainous
achievement. I struggled to balance myself as the hammock swayed.
“What’s wrong with me,” I grumbled, letting my legs dangle to rest
against a gritty floor.
I glanced around, seeing a single end table with a photo of a woman
propped up. The image was hand drawn, the edges cracked and partially
ruined by age.
The table the frame rested on appeared hand carved. Images of
crappily drawn horses etched onto the surface puzzled me.
A single door restrained sunlight from entering and the room lacked
a window.
I removed the blanket covering my body and about had a heart
attack.
Shriveled skin adorned my boney frame. Long nails curved off my
fingers and toes. I grabbed a chunk of my thigh and lifted the loose flesh
like a rubber band.
My eyes widened in horror at my new reality.
Of course, I checked my mighty hammer of awesomeness and
found the poor guy turtled up. So much for arriving on Nordan with a two
foot dick, chiseled abs, and the skills of a ninja.
“Aw, man, this is some bullshit,” I said with a hoarse voice. I
entered a coughing fit, common with age. “How the hell am I supposed to
be a champion as a grandpa?”
My belly button ached, sending a signal. I tried to gather the
strength to stand and my body protested. Without anything else to do, I
inspected the painful area.
Where my belly button should be, a clear orb protruded.
“Should probably see a -” I started to say but a new coughing fit
took over.
Curiosity killed the cat and I probably was about to die anyway, so
I touched the orb. An interface appeared two feet in front of me. The clear
magic let my hand pass through it without changing the image.
I saw a message awaiting me and went to tap the button that said
accept. My finger went through the display again, and I thought accept. A
green ping informed me that mental triggers worked.
Greetings Damien, my chosen one.
I’ve struggled to find a single man on Earth who fit my
criteria of actually believing another realm existed. Well, I found a
few, but none were as gullible as you. Honestly, you should get a
girlfriend, would probably save you the heartache when a Temptress
ruins your life. Oh, I crack myself up.
Our deal remains. Cultivate ten thousand Zorta, and you get
to retire as Damien Smith on an island with your parents. That’s the
good news. Your way home is clear, your goal is defined, and trust
me, I want you to win.
The bad news - when a Goddess tells you to sit in her spell,
you damn well sit. In this case, your isekai trip had a hiccup. Nothing
too awful but an immediate challenge nonetheless.
Instead of arriving as a young and dapper version of yourself,
you were sent into the body of an old dead man. Yeah, he died like an
hour ago. Gives me the shivers, and I bet you’re cold.
Look, here’s the deal. You need Zorta to reverse the aging and
become young again. If you hurry, you can gain some Zorta and stop
from dying. Kill something then suck the dead power into your belly
button. It’s odd, but it works.
Which, you’ll learn there’s some stats and abilities tied to
your competition orb in your Nordan assessment tracker. I mention
this because you’ll see an aging timer.
A lot of that data is super self-explanatory. Do more and more
information will appear. All of that is irrelevant because right now
you need to consume Zorta to avoid dying. Oh, and consuming Zorta
does not count to my needs.
Be careful. This competition has no respawns, restarts, or do
overs. What it does have is once a day resurrections for healing
mages. Hurray, you’re a healer. Boo, you can’t resurrect yourself and
healers generally suck in combat.
Final thing, champ. Go get them. Ha, that too, but you have
an unknown second magical ability. I’m sure you’ll learn everything
as you stumble, trip, fall, and get back up on Nordan. You’re my
champion. No one gets two magic types. No one except champions,
and they’re worth a whole lot of Zorta to kill. Like worth stabbing in
the back.
I hope you catch my meaning. If you return to me the
conquering hero with my Zorta, I promise your parents will be
brought back to life, and we’ll have a great time.
Your Temptress,
Caitlyn Moonguard
Her message faded, wholly inadequate to explain what the hell was
going on. I noticed a walking stick on the ground and felt spry enough to
snatch it.
The exertion left me winded, and I used the breathing time to touch
my belly button.
Name: Damien Moonguard
I moaned in displeasure. Damien Wilhimer was my name. Not
Damien Moonguard.
Whatever, best to figure out what’s what, not like I can fly home.
Before I touched my orb again, I had to wonder - was I not freaking
out because of the goddess’s ritual, or was I just this naturally accepting of
life becoming batshit crazy?
Name: Damien Moonguard
Race: Human
Affiliation: Nordan
Zorta: 0
Nordan Score: 0
Ostriva Score: 0
Location: Yew Wood
Magic Type: Healer
Healer Level: 1
Magic Type 2: Unknown
Unknown Score: Unknown
Fighting Level: Pathetic
Mana: 20
Mana Recharge: 1
Strength: 1
Stamina: 1
Dexterity: 1
Constitution: 1
Willpower: 1
Cultivation: 1
Intelligence: 25
Wisdom: 25
Charisma: 1
Endurance: 1
Perception: 5
Burst: 1
Reflex: 1
Healing: 1
Melee Combat: 1
Aim: 1
Hunger: 10
Thirst: 10
Aging: 33 minutes 12 second until death.
“Thirty three minutes!”
I shot off my feet too quickly and crashed into the door. Stupid
hammocks were not for the elderly.
On three hooks rested three items: a dagger belt I equipped, a purse
I hung around my neck, and a plain dirty gray robe that I covered my nude
wrinkly form with.
After a brief struggle to open the damn thing, I freed myself of the
simple and plain hut.
The exterior revealed a breathtaking view that I ignored. Great, the
old dead man lived on a marvelous hill with a big white oak tree that held a
tree swing. I would join his soul if I didn’t get some damn Zorta.
I grumbled my way to a worn trail leading down a gently sloping
hill. Wild grass with thick bushes and weeds dominated the terrain besides
the brown path. A clear sky revealed scattered clouds and a bright day.
My eyes avoided lingering and instead darted for Zorta until I
realized a few things.
If Zorta would have saved this man, why did he die? Where did one
get Zorta beside from the mythical creatures from… from… shit, I am the
worst with names.
I slowed my breakneck pace before I literally broke my neck. A
small village rested about five hundred feet from the base of the old man’s
hill.
Between the hill and the village sat a farm with shin high oats of
some kind. Smoke billowed from chimneys inside small walls, and the early
morning sun revealed a beautiful scene I feared would be my last.
I reached the bottom of the hill and continued on the trail for the
village. Someone would know what to do. I just knew A rustling from the oats on my left caught my attention.
A fluffy white bunny nibbled on some grass, eking out a living
between the oats.
Death equals Zorta. Bunny equals life.
I smirked.
Now, I’d never killed a thing in my life, making me the ideal healer
… besides, well, an actual doctor. The point is, I stared at that bunny, and
all I could see was me eventually sitting on a beach with my parents.
All the video games started with the intrepid hero slaying bunnies,
then a wolf or two thousand, and then I’d move on to boars for a six day
marathon.
Yeah, bunny had it coming.
I stalked forward, careful not to disturb the creature. My damn
ancient body popped and cracked as I moved forward.
My heart pounded fiercely to the point it was all I could hear. I
raised my walking stick up and the bunny caught sight of me without a
care.
I rushed the stick down with my strength of one.
Crack!
Bunny brains smushed from my assault and a leg twitched in shock.
The bunny had not seen that coming in the slightest.
I exhaled in relief at my luck.
A tiny, colorful orb hovered over the bunny’s body.
An instinct from the old man kicked in.
I closed my eyes, found my center, and waved my hands over the
Zorta.
I welcomed the orb, enticing it to aid me in my future journey. A
tug of resistance shattered violently, and the orb crashed into my being.
A prompt generated in front of me.
Zorta: 0.008 - Consume (Yes) - (No) - (Drop)
I selected yes with a mental thought and the interface in front of my
eyes changed.
Consume for Mana (Yes) - (No)
I selected no.
Consume for Age reduction (Yes) - (No)
I selected yes.
Aging: 2 days fourteen minutes until death.
I let out a sigh of relief, feeling the dread of a looming death
fading.
“Sprinkles,” a young girl cried out from the village exit. “Sprinkles,
where did you hop off to?”
“Oh shit,” I said, quickly returning to the trail for the village.
I pushed a bit of dirt over the blood, a feeble attempt of covering
my diabolical deed.
The bunny hadn’t panicked not because I was some ninja grandpa
warrior but because it was a damn pet.
My stomach twisted, and I wished I could hide, or fly, or “Mr. Toneba, have you seen Sprinkles?” a girl asked in a pleading
way.
She was probably six or seven and wore a thick hide dress. Her
bare feet were caked in mud. The blonde hair atop her head held ten shades
of dirty muck, and she reminded me of me when I was a wild, feral child.
“I’m old, hard to see,” I said with a squint.
“Wow, you answered me. Normally you just point. Have you given
up your quest to die with your wife?” the girl asked.
Talk about a shitty quest. Whoever issued that one should be
avoided.
I shook my head.
She grew bored of me and went the wrong way to find her dead pet.
“Sprinkles, where are you?” she shouted over and over.
If I ever got a horse, it was so getting named Sprinkles. Maybe then
I’d feel less shitty for killing her rabbit and lying to her.
I walked into the village a bit aimlessly, not sure what to do next. I
wanted a map, some food, and some Zorta if I could buy it.
CHAPTER 3
Nordan - Old man’s village
Her Toned Tummy
The wall consisted of trees buried deeply into the soil. Between
each trunk, air passed through freely and a basic simplicity spoke volumes
to the needs of these people.
The defenses lacked a parapet or a moat. Hell, the old man’s hut
was out in the open and only a single watchtower stood atop a church. I
doubted these people fought mythical minions on the regular.
A bored teenager gazed down from his perch in the church tower.
He saw me but didn’t spare my approach a second glance. At least as the
old man I went unnoticed.
My entire life had been with eyes on me. Dashing good looks, a
naturally bulky frame, and piercing blue eyes meant I garnered attention
everywhere I went, until now.
Gritty loose soil crunched under my calloused feet. Below the dried
nasty coating, river stones created a decent path that saw little use.
I crossed an entry gate devoid of a guard. Clearly this village
wasn’t concerned about security.
My arrival sent a few birds into flight, enjoying a light breeze on
the early morning day.
The interior of the village reminded me of a scene from a fantasy
movie. Most of the one-story buildings were in decent repair.
The main road went straight toward another opening in the wall on
the other side of the village. In the center of the town, a well sat in front of a
large church.
Directly off the road, the village's businesses operated with a few
patrons mulling about. On the outskirts of the village, homes rested tightly
together near the wall.
A nearby kiln or smithy forge belched a long trail of billowing
black smoke. The scent of cooking dough told me it was likely for bread.
Each storefront contained a small balcony, creating a wooden sidewalk for
folks to use on a rainy day.
A dozen people walked the strip, and a vendor had some fruit out
front a few stores down.
The first thing I noticed about the populace was the age. Sure, they
all wore crummy clothing of mostly hide, and certainly needed to bathe
more, but, none were old or even over the hill.
This told me a lot. If a bunny extended a life by two days, what
would those two thousand wolves give? Whatever process these villagers
used to keep the Zorta flowing to remain vibrant worked.
I passed a bar or saloon.
Or was it a watering hole in this age? Probably an inn. Yeah there’s
doors on in the alley on the building’s side.
A young woman rested against a pillar supporting an overhang. Her
lean midriff laid bare, exposing her Nordan orb next to smooth skin.
She caught me eyeing her belly and smirked with a pristine set of
teeth. It was clear what she was selling with her mini-skirt and cropped,
see-through top. I leered at her shapely figure, clearly still willing to find a
woman lovely even after my interactions with the Temptress.
I walked by, avoiding running into a pillar, and headed to the fruit
vendor. A tiered stand displayed odd alien fruits in front of a younger man.
“Ah. Healer Toneba, a single fruit for healing this scar?” he asked.
I eyed him with a squint. Not because he deserved a scornful eye,
but because my eyesight was shit. I tried to find this scar he wanted fixed.
“Ten,” I countered sourly.
“Ten what?” the man said. “Hey Larina, get this. Old man Toneba
just spoke.”
A woman from across the road left her rocking chair, dusting off an
apron. “Ya don’t say. Whatcha hear, Parni?”
“He countered my healing needs with ten. Only damn healer in
leagues, and I finally get an offer. Woulda accepted a hundred, this damn
scar always itches,” the man said, sticking a raw wound in front of my
face.
The old man’s memories of how to heal returned to me. I braced
my weight, leaning into the walking stick. My right hand hovered over the
raised, angry festering.
“Apply healing,” I muttered.
My palm sent gentle waves of green illumination. The display held
an extra vibrance since we rested in the shade. The angry scar with scratch
marks faded until only smooth flesh remained.
I reached into my robes and tapped my orb. The two astonished
people jabbered while I checked my stats.
Mana: 7
Mana Recharge: 1
Time to Mana Replenishment: 2 days 14 hours.
“Thank the great god Tew, you healed my scar. It’s a miracle!”
Parni exclaimed, jumping.
When he landed, his feet created a loud report against the wooden
boards.
Others noticed his commotion, coming over to see what the fuss
was about. I grabbed a green fruit with a casing similar to an orange. When
I peeled the fruit back, the woman asked for the exterior.
I ate greedily, fruit juices dripping down my face and chin. I
devoured the delicious fruit and even licked my fingers after the delightful
treat.
“Let me get you a water,” Parni said, dumping out a cup.
He filled the wooden cutout with fresh water and handed it to me.
I drank in big gulps, feeling better.
I handed him the cup back and again touched my orb.
Hunger: 3
Thirst: 0
Aging: 4 day 16 hours until death.
I let out a relieved sigh. Staying young wasn’t going to be an issue
if you had a minimal intake of Zorta combined with food and water. I just
needed to increase that number until I wasn’t an ancient man anymore.
If only rolling back time were easy.
“Can I get a mole removed?” Larina asked eagerly. “I can pay.”
Murmurs from the growing crowd increased. The words on
everyone’s lips - ‘old man Toneba was healing folks.’
“That’s enough, give the man space,” a commanding voice
boomed.
A man the size of a tree parted the villagers. His eyes glared down
at me with malice, and he certainly let me know he was not happy.
“The mayor sounds angry again, here we go,” a random voice said,
telling me I was dealing with the local leader.
“What are you doing, Toneba?” he demanded.
“I awoke missing my memories. An old lady’s picture sat on my
end table. Was she special?” I asked, hoping to ease his anger.
He softened and said, “We told you not to push your limits. Nordan
needs every healer it’s got. Did ya listen? Nope. Stubborn as an ox Darnbi
used to say to us. The woman was yer wife.”
“I - I - I I’m sorry. What happened to her?” I asked.
The crowd didn’t disperse, finding our exchange far more fruitful
than whatever their day had yielded prior.
He clamped a meaty hand onto my bony shoulder and said, “She
was an ice mage. One of great renown. You were her healer who refused to
take a life, any life. She died during an expedition, and you resurrected her.
That night your party was captured, and you were imprisoned.
“The story goes that you traded your freedom to bring back a
centaur’s baby. They honored the deal, and you fled to Tarb. You raised an
army with your funds, risked a blizzard, and entered the dungeon of
centaurs. When the vile beings were cleared, your love was missing. You
spent the next thirty years trying to find her only to grow old from your
gentle nature and hate of Z.
“Which leads to me needing to yell at my people here in a moment.
Unless… Are you the reason there is a crying little girl in the mayor’s
office? I get sad seeing my daughter sobbing into the fur of her dead pet.”
I rapidly shook my head and said, “No idea what you’re talking
about. I need a map and to buy some Zorta.”
He let out a big exhale through his nose and lowered his lips to my
ear. “If you take the blame, I’ll get you a ride to Tarb. It’s a city where you
can buy Z. No one calls it Zorta besides the divine or the confused.”
I gulped, and he nodded.
“I didn’t do it, but I can take the blame,” I said quietly.
“Perfect, and yer a healer,” he said, removing his lips from
whispering range. “So, if they want a punishment, you’ll be fine.”
He shooed back the crowd, spreading his arms.
“Sprinkles died from old man Toneba. He fell and hit the rabbit’s
head. He hit his head too,” the mayor proclaimed in a boisterous voice. A
few chuckled at this. None seemed outraged. “He’s offered to pay for a new
Sprinkles and leave our village to become young again. Finally, we will
have a healer to fix wounds quicker than natural regeneration and to mend
scars. Do we accept or reject his offered atonement proposal?”
“I want my mole gone,” the woman from earlier said. “Mayor
Rexa, we need a healer. I vote the silver.”
I wanted to thank her but, drat, I forgot her name.
The clamoring of the villagers rang loud as they deliberated. Five
minutes later, the mayor held out an open hand to me, clearly wanting his
palm greased.
“It seems they’re in a forgiving mood. A single silver,” Rexa said.
I tucked my walking staff into the nook of my arm, hiding my
surprise at seeing bloody fur on the tip. My forearm quickly rubbed it clean,
and I extracted my coin purse.
With a quick untying leather bag’s strings undid and revealed a
purse filled with a few gold pieces but mostly silver and some bronze coins.
I had no clue what a silver coin was worth, but it seemed wise to forfeit
one.
The mayor accepted the coin and hoisted it high in the air. Rexa
wrapped a muscled arm around my shoulder and said, “Follow me.”
I opened my mouth for a witty retort but clamped it shut quickly.
This didn’t seem like the right moment to be a smartass.
I walked with the man, realizing I had left behind fruit owed to me.
“The fruit guy owes me fruit,” I said, grumbling at the very basic statement.
“Pargri. I think.”
“Close, old man. It’s Parni. You’ve known him for decades and
helped birth his children. Apparently, all your memories are gone now. We
warned you about pushing your natural limits on that damn death timer,”
Rexa said in a sad tone. “If you’re not back by the next moon, I’ll give your
hut away, but Toneba, please come back.”
I followed him along the main road, heading for the other exit out
of the small village. People eyed our progress with disgruntled looks. I
don’t think they cared about the bunny. They were upset about me leaving.
I could only imagine how many folks wanted to use the healer who
had rejected their offers for some time. However, none of them challenged
the massive man.
We walked beyond the final building and passed outside the walls.
Beyond the walls, a young woman about half the size of Rexa stood
waiting on a cart with a mare in front of it. The duo rested beside a large
farm field that transitioned into a looming forest of gloom.
Trees towered hundreds of feet tall, and I understood why there was
a wall on this side of the village. A few storage shacks rested among the
farm fields, and a lumber mill processed trees. Well, men outside cleared
branches and sawed planks.
“Desra, darling. Toneba lost his memories, but, big but here, he’s
healing again,” Rexa said happily.
“Thank Tew. About damn time you ornery man. Six and a half
years with birthing scars that you created and then refused to fix. Bullshit
I… Why’s he staring at me blankly?” Kersa asked.
“He says he forgot his memories and based on his behavior, I
believe him. I think he knows his death timer is low and is finally going to
Tarb to become young again. His lifetime of wealth is going to be used
finally. I found him healing for supplies for the trip. You got enough for
two?” Rexa asked.
“No… Wait, let me check. Yes, in fact, there’s barely enough. Not
like he needs to eat much,” Desra said, sorting through a bag.
The back of the cart sat filled with a bunch of yellow sticks, each
about six feet long. Rexa pointed to the pile for me to sit. When I tried to
board the back of the cart, he hoisted me up like a babe.
I grumbled, but thanked him nonetheless.
“Can you last three days?” Rexa asked.
“Do I have a choice?”
He shook his head. “Get out of town, recover your strength, and
then heal these good people.”
“Never got a map,” I muttered.
“Whatcha needin a map for?” Desra all but blurted.
“What’s the name of this village?” I asked.
Rexa chuckled and said, “Yew Wood. What you’re sitting on. We
harvest and supply Tarb with yew wood for arrows. Desra’s in charge. Mind
her or pay the price.”
“So, no map?” I asked.
He frowned, leaving me to kiss his wife goodbye. The two
exchanged a few words in private. A minute or two later, the mare clomped
forward with a slow trot.
The wheels creaked, a slight breeze whipped my dry skin, and Rexa
waved goodbye as we rolled away from Yew Wood.
CHAPTER 4
Nordan - Err Forrest
The mare’s walk reminded me of a zombie. Her endless strain
monotonous in its constant repetition. I grew bored and curious about this
journey.
“How come you’re making the trip alone?” I asked.
This earned me an over the shoulder sneer.
Desra snickered and said, “I’m a fire mage, not a princess. Plus, if I
take a team, the riffraff never show themselves.”
My eyebrows raised for a few reasons.
I had assumed since the setting was medieval, the society would
follow that structure. Women in the gloomy forest tended to be easy prey
and normally had an escort. Or so I would have guessed, apparently
incorrectly.
The tall canopy of the trees we navigated by did provide ample
ambush points. A few birds watched us wheel by, but for the most part, the
trip had been uneventful.
“Interesting. I take it the route is fairly safe,” I said with an
intrigued tone. “Besides for these riffraff. What are those?”
Her tone became slightly hostile. “Small roaming stravians.”
“What are those?” I asked.
“What’s your deal?” she asked accusingly, glaring at me from over
her shoulder.
I shimmied to lay down the best I could on top of the collected yew
wood. My body hated the endeavor, proving getting old sucked.
“I woke up confused and alone somewhere unexpected,” I said and
sighed. “My deal is I need Z.”
“Welcome back to the real world we’ve all been living in for the
last fifty years,” Desra said with a scoff. “What do you remember?”
“Another life I had in a dream,” I said, lying and telling the truth at
the same time. “So, fifty years since the great mist swapped parts of the
planets?”
“Were you a philosopher in this dream life?” she asked.
“Umm… yeah, I guess you could say that. Certainly wasn’t a
healer. My life was simple, filled with books, and boring. The highlight of
my job was finding a new word of the day. Anyway, I used my looks for
excitement,” I said, confiding in her.
She snickered and then burst into laughter. “Yeah, certainly not
what Toneba would say. This philosopher who liked to party, did he have a
name?”
“Yeah, Damien. Just a dream, though. I saw a church and heard
reference to a god named Mew,” I said.
“Tew, not Mew. Ta-woo. A forester god. Wise, calm, and
understanding. Worthy of donating Z to his altar,” Desra said.
“Do the gods compete for blessings?” I asked.
Desra nodded, slowing the mare. “You bet your old ass they do.
That’s all they want, and you’ll hear of random gifts blessing some warrior.
Then all the other warriors go and pay homage and donate. The god likely
uses a costly spell in hopes of a better payout.
“Just a guess, though. Hey, I gotta pee. You can sit in the front with
me since you’re not a drab, grumpy asshole like I usually transport.”
The mare stopped, and she hopped down, quickly squatting over
the grass. She peed right in front of me. I scoffed, caught unprepared for the
shocking display, and she found this humorous. Alright, maybe I was in
medieval times.
“You’ve delivered four of my children, daft man,” Desra said, and I
frowned. I went to object and she huffed, “Right, no memory of that. Face
away then, idjit.”
A moment later, she jumped back into the driver’s bench beside
me. With a giggle, she wiped her hands on my robe.
“Hey, not cool,” I said.
“Obviously, it's a warm spring day,” she said with a smirk,
snapping the reins. “Let me pretend you're not Toneba to help the next few
days pass. Rexa doesn’t let men accompany me alone often.”
The mare went right back into her walk, not missing a beat. Her
motions lulled me into a yawn.
“What was your ‘Damien life’ like?” she asked. “In this
hypothetical dream.”
“Um, my dream life. Young, brash, and confident were the words I
used to describe myself to others. I grew up as an only child - spoiled with
love. My parents were poor, our home was a one-bedroom apartment, and I
slept on a couch that turned into a bed.
“I got a job, graduated school and my parents died suddenly. I
moved out and into a smaller apartment with a tiny room. I tended to be a
quiet recluse when I wasn’t trying to find a nice gal to have sex with,” I
said.
Desra smiled and replied, “How many children?”
“Oh, uh, none that I know about,” I said with a shrug. “Why didn’t
I heal your scars?”
She sputtered her lips in frustration. After Desra eyed me with a
sour, squinted glare. The mother, and who should be over seventy, held no
crow’s feet; instead her skin was silky smooth.
“I violated the natural order. I shouldn’t be having children as a
grandmother who appeared no older than twenty-five, but I did,” she said
with a sigh.
“So, he what, punished you into realizing you were doing
something wrong?” I asked.
“Pretty much. He didn’t blame the child, but he did blame me.
You… Toneba was a devout believer in the old ways before the gods
converted Nordan.
“He grew up a farmer’s son, and his mother happened to be an
apothecary. Any of this ringing a bell?” she asked.
“No, just that I had to talk to cast my magic. It came to me
naturally. The image on the end table held no pull, yeah pull works,” I
replied.
“Yeah, magic has triggers. Great mages just act or react while basic
mages force the magic out or in. When you become proficient, things will
change,” she said.
“Thank you. Tell me more of Toneba,” I said.
“Before the cataclysm, Tew didn’t exist. It was only Arax, the god
of justice. Fifty years ago, the Creator, a pantheon of gods or whomever
created the great spell that rocked Nordan to its foundation. At the time,
Toneba lived a simple life on his hill with his wife. Both were farmers for
the village. I say this so you get a feel for the man. He didn’t welcome the
changes when the mists finally vanished,” Desra said.
“The orbs?” I asked.
She nodded. “Exactly. He hated them. On the day we awoke with
our changes, everyone received a message, and it was stamped without a
name but with a ‘yours truly’ signature. The exact verbiage is lost to me at
the moment, but it informed the masses of a few things.
“Our world now contained Z and everyone was affected by this
new magic. Everyone earned a single magic type and to advance in that
magic, you needed to earn Z. Not only that, Z also gave younger life,
upgrades, quick refreshes, and power increases. The downside is to gain,
you need to take, and taking required death.”
“Without death, there’s no power. Yikes. I can see an astute person
taking the moral high ground. The changes are inherently evil and are
geared to the strong, not the peaceful,” I said, and she frowned at astute and
then my last line.
“Interesting that you say that. Maybe a bit of him exists in your
foggy memories. Yeah, I’ve had nine children since that day. Four have
moved on to other cities and occasionally visit. Two died fighting in the
south. Two went missing in the south. And my youngest - you killed her
bunny this morning,” she said sharply.
I raised a hand to protest, but she shook her head in dismay.
“So, the orb, if you touch Rexa’s for example, can you see his
information?” I asked.
“Only if you will the orb to allow it. Now, with that said, there’s
certain places that simply won’t grant you access without an inspection,”
she said, dodging a divot in the rough road.
“Why’s that?” I asked.
“The system knows all. Alignment determines your trustworthiness
to humanity, and it only does so much. Affiliation is really just how you’re
born. Your alignment score is what defines if you’re pro-human or promythicals,” she said.
“I take it if I betray you I earn negative Nordan points?” I asked.
She shrugged. “There are only positive points and no atoning for
your sins. Well, besides racking up more positive points in the other
column. For example, I have a 33,474 Nordan Score. My Ostriva score is
393. Mostly from bar fights that ended poorly, or me flaming teammates
with fire magic, and not on accident. No matter what I do, I cannot lower
that number. Keep that as a reminder.”
“So, you’ve made mistakes and the guards will let you in,” I asked.
“To the city? Yes. To the market? Yes. To the upper city? No. I’m
banned. Anything above a hundred is prohibited,” she said.
“Ouch, how’s the point system work?” I asked.
She sputtered her lips. “It depends. I know, not a great way to
answer, but the truth it is.” Her exaggerated smug smile made me sigh.
She continued, “To earn Nordan points, help humanity. This can be
as simple as helping an old fallen lady to a healer. Kill any vile beings
trying to kill humanity or that are from Ostriva and earn points. That part is
simple.
“It’s the human on human interactions that become complex.
Humans can con humans without hurting the species. Let’s say you have a
friend with a girlfriend he shouldn’t have. You take the husband hunting
and you successfully bag three boarmen while your friend bags his wife.
“Did you hurt him? Yeah, you did. Did you hurt humanity as a
whole? No, not really. Now, if you took him to a cliff and a sand scorpion
killed him, without you doing anything else, the system knows these things.
Not sure how, but it knows. You’d get a whole lot of Ostriva points for
luring him to his death.”
“Okay, so there’s a way to tell the good from the bad and the good
guys use this to ensure you’re good,” I said, understanding in a sense.
“And if you wanted to join a tribe of centaurs, you simply show
them your 15,000 score for Ostriva and they know you’re not on Nordan’s
side,” she said.
The concept felt invasive, but if you committed a crime and were
caught on Earth, you would end up with a criminal record. This just meant
you paid a price for betraying your kind no matter what. Sort of because the
rules allowed some leeway apparently.
“So Z, you mentioned it could be used for other things besides
donating to gods,” I said.
“Yeah, I’m a level sixteen fire mage. The issue me and many others
run into is that I’m ready to go to fire mage seventeen. The cost to do so is,”
she paused to touch her belly button. “Seventeen hundred Z. Ouch.”
“Ouch indeed. What does the upgrade get you?” I asked.
“Uh, the ability to cast a stronger fire spell, a tiny percentage boost
to my mana, and increased recharge. Of course, all those are waiting for
upgrades too,” she said with a sigh. “Getting the picture that at some point
you stop investing in yourself because it's too damn expensive?”
“Yeah. Not sure it’s a smart system, but it does keep it easy to
understand which was probably the point. Alright, so you have to consume
Z to improve?” I asked, and she nodded. “Are power increases and
upgrades the same thing?”
“Some upgrades are magic specific. For instance, Rexa is a
berserker mage.” She waved her hands animatedly, shaping out her large
husband. “He can enhance his muscle mass. That only goes so far until he
needs to upgrade his skin spells to, for instance, fire resistant skin. The vast
majority of both rarely achieve greatness, but those who do become
godlike,” Desra said with awe.
“Okay, so I need to study my specific magic type and then improve
as I go,” I said, feeling grateful.
Desra was standoffish at first, but now I was starting to think she
wasn’t so bad.
“Yeah, the regional capital will have plenty of texts written by
healers for healers, including yourself. Yours is considered blasphemy but it
still is readable,” Desra said with a scoff. “Pacifists have little place in
Nordan.”
I grunted, not sure what I’d be. I had killed that bunny to live. If I
had coins and could buy Z from those who ventured out to collect it, would
I ever need to kill if I got a job? My resume didn’t have me being a super
serial badass warrior on it.
Hell, I didn’t even fight in school or play fight with dad. I wasn’t a
wimp, but I wasn’t a macho ass-kicker either.
I also didn’t need to rush into battle. I could do this right. Time was
not pressing, and I was immortal after all. Assuming I had enough Z to
manage the day by day which seemed cheap.
The more I thought about the system, the more I went back to
thinking about Desra’s kids. All of them had moved out, meaning they had
to find their own place in Nordan. If both sides could be immortal and keep
having kids, that would mean cities filling to the brim and incentives to…
fight.
It all came down to the fighting.
I rambled out the uses of Zorta while I summarized what I learned.
“Recharge I have experienced. Same with my death timer increase. I
haven’t needed to level anything up, but with zero Z, I doubt I’ll have that
problem. Besides upgrades, donations, and to boost my health or recharge,
what else can I use Z for?” I asked.
“Trade. Everyone wants Z, on both sides. To do this is simple. Just
don’t consume an orb and cultivate it for trade. You’ll learn that real quick.
And yes, the strivains trade Z too.
“The Centaurs who ran off with your wife left knowing you were
coming back. They gave up their cave to a lower tribe and traded supplies
for a migration,” Desra said.
“Whoa, diabolical of them. Bait and switch while extorting,” I
said.
She grunted happily and said, “You’re catching on. I had to torture
a few souls to learn the truth.”
“Ah, I’m sad that the mythicals aren’t mindless drones?” I asked.
“Not in the slightest. Humanity is not winning the war even if they
should be. The mythicals are called strivains, but most will correlate your
meaning. And before you ask why they dropped the o, they did and I can’t
explain it,” she said with a nonchalant shrug.
“Wait, what do you mean we should be winning?” I asked.
“The enemy, who crave the same thing we do, are fractured by their
own internal struggles. Humans at least have a superior numbers advantage
because they are a single species.
“Right now, you’re in King Karn’s realm. Duke Mardo rules Tarb.
The next closest kingdom is Fraunt which is led by Empress Sarass. She
hates King Karn, and they never unite to squash common threats,” she said.
I grunted, watching the massive trees pass us by. A few squirrels
rotated around trees, hiding from our loud approach. The road was just a
worn trail, jostling us the entire time.
The only thing saving my back was our slow and steady speed.
I used the pause to mull over what she had said. Somehow, I wasn’t
surprised that conflict among humanity prevented victories. Humans always
found ways to disagree and create strife.
If my goal was to free mom and dad while retiring on a beach, I
didn’t care what the kings and queens of this world squabbled over.
Focusing on my narrow goal would be more than enough.
An hour passed with us sitting in silence, watching the road go by.
I yawned, not feeling that great. I had four days to acquire more Z
or I’d die.
“I need to pee and then rest,” I told her, and she stopped so I could
use the treeline.
After I climbed onto the yellow sticks, I laid down for a nap.
CHAPTER 5
Nordan - Err Forest
I awoke with my hands bound tightly behind my back. My
breathing puffed dirt from the side of the road telling I no longer rested on
the wagon. Both of my shoulders burned with an arthritic fire, and the left
side of my face tingled with numbness.
Moonlight revealed a bag resting in front of my face that obscured
my vision. With a painful groan, I rolled over and onto my back.
A shimmy to remove the bag from my vision revealed the road to
my right and the forest to my left.
It didn’t take long to figure out I’d been ditched. I couldn’t make
heads or tails of the reason, but I did see the gleam of my dagger embedded
into a nearby tree.
I scraped myself off the rough terrain, managing to get my aching
body upright.
“Well, shit,” I grumbled, walking over to the knife.
Turning my back to it, I almost knocked the blade free of the trunk
because of my unsteady arms fighting my inputs.
The next twenty minutes of me sawing rope back and forth drove
me crazy. At one point, I worried I wouldn’t succeed.
When the frayed rope burst, I moaned in ecstasy from my arms
leaving their confines.
“That bitch,” I said with resentment. “I don't get it. My purse is
here, my dagger, and walking stick. Why ditch me?”
I opened the purse. A single silver rested inside. Then it made
sense. I had been robbed, sort of.
When I reached down to my belly button, I touched the orb. The
interface populated in front of me, and I navigated the options to view my
stats.
View All or View Changes
I tilted my head, hearing a crack from the minor movement. I just
wanted to lay down and die in this body.
I sighed and selected View All. I had been using the full drop down
to familiarize myself with the data and figuring out the changes on my own.
Name: Damien Moonguard
Race: Human
Affiliation: Nordan
Zorta: 0
Nordan Score: 0
Ostriva Score: 0
Location: Err Forest
Magic Type: Healer
Healer Level: 1
Magic Type 2: Unknown
Unknown Score: Unknown
Fighting Level: Pathetic
Mana: 12
Mana Recharge: 1
Strength: 1
Stamina: 1
Dexterity: 1
Constitution: 1
Willpower: 1
Cultivation: 1
Intelligence: 25
Wisdom: 25
Charisma: 1
Tracking: 1
Endurance: 1
Perception: 4
Burst: 1
Reflex: 1
Healing: 1
Melee Combat: 1
Aim: 1
Hunger: 3
Thirst: 3
Aging: 4 days 14 minutes until death.
I exited out the drop down, returning to the main screen then asking
to see changes. If I could, using a quick update check seemed more efficient
than pulling down the whole list.
Mana: + 5 recovered
Perception: - 1 point.
Hunger: + 2
Thirst: + 2
Aging: - 13 hours.
Wow, being old sucked. I had slept through being robbed, tied up,
and tossed onto the side of the road. Thirteen hours gone. My only hope
was she It hit me then. “She traveled without stopping to drop me in the
middle of the trip. Where do I go?” I muttered. “Tarb, I gotta go to Tarb.”
I glanced left and then glanced right. My tracking skills were about
on par for an average librarian - zero. Then I realized I actually had a 1 in
tracking.
The tall trees spread their canopy wide which drowned out most of
the moonlight and made my job of figuring out which way Desra had gone
difficult.
Taking my time, I saw the tracks swerving from the middle of the
dirt road on my left until it crushed the light grass on the side. Her cart
swerved back into the road to my right.
Knowing this, I picked up the pack, and went right. Taking a
moment, I inspected the contents. The rummaging reached bare bottom
pretty quickly. Inside, I found a flask of water and a small packet of jerky.
My chapped lips welcomed the cool water that I drank slowly. A
minute or two later, I slung the bag over my back, starting the journey for
Tarb.
A hoot gave me a pause not even five steps in. I glanced up to find
an owl watching me from up high.
I continued my walk, not in the least bit in tune with nature. Every
chirp, rustle, or odd noise sent me on edge.
Five minutes into the walk, I had my dagger out defensively
without a clue what was lurking around the next bend.
A light would have done wonders, because in my mind, I was
certain a thousand vile mythical creatures were coming to kill me. I knew I
needed to distract myself to calm my rapidly beating heart.
I guessed this was a good time to reflect on the fact my accountant
of a father didn’t go camping. I grew up in a city without wilderness and
never hungered to tame the wilds.
We never went hiking or visited a national park. We went to
Atlantis and stayed at the resort, not even venturing to reefs so we could
avoid sharks.
The trip to New York City was great, and we used a trail in Central
Park. It sorta was outdoorsy.
The DC trip meant a free zoo, also no wilderness. I guess I never
prepared for a creepy walk at night scenario.
The more I thought about my situation, the more I felt the urge to
laugh.
Eventually, a mad cackle escaped my lips at the absurdity of my
reality. No, not in a million years did I expect to find myself on a different
planet, alone in the dark, and walking between trees taller than California
redwoods.
Ten minutes of muttering and mumbling later resulted in me hating
life. My bones ached and my joints throbbed.
I really, really hated Caitlyn the Temptress at that moment. No
amount of positivity would change that fact.
An hour into my trek, I sheathed my dagger. By hour two, I wanted
to die because my body protested endlessly with every step. By hour three, I
persevered, pushing through the pain until I forced my numb limbs to carry
me.
A warm sensation pulsed through my guts.
I walked over to the small grass outside the forest and barely peed,
noticing I needed water. After a gulp from the flask, and a bit of jerky, I
started walking again.
For the next half hour, my stomach sensation continued even after I
peed.
Realizing it was likely the orb, I rubbed the device while still
walking.
You have increased Constitution, Willpower, Endurance, and
Stamina. Are you ready to invest in upgrading these stats? (YES) (NO)
“Awesome,” I said.
I selected yes and was forced to pick a single stat or to select them
all. I selected Stamina.
Stamina 1 -} Stamina 2 = .001 Zorta. Option unavailable.
“Right, I lack the Zorta so it’s an automatic no,” I said, keeping
myself company.
I glanced up, expecting the morning’s dawn to crack the canopy at
any moment. My steps faltered when I heard a shrill scream piercing the
night.
“Desra,” I said to myself.
The voices were similar and I could be wrong, but I was almost
certain I wasn’t.
I tried to force my legs into a jog, but they refused no matter how
intensely I tried.
A massive ball of flame crackled high into the trees from around a
bend in the road. The night illuminated brightly as upper branches turned to
cinder and the trunk lit up like a match.
“Holy shit,” I exclaimed, seeing the intense power magic for the
first time.
A primordial cry of anger sent my hurrying.
The bottom of my walking stick hit harder, and I extended my
stride.
A shriek ripped out of some creature’s mouth and two sections of
flames careened into the woods.
The sound of wood crackling continued with an occasional pop, but
it seemed Dersa had won the fight.
“Stupid legs, stupid old body,” I grumbled, finally nearing the
bend.
When I rounded the corner, I saw the cart awash in flame. The mare
neighed with fright, trying to free itself.
A fallen tree revealed a sprung trap. The trunk prohibited the mare
from pulling forward. The large tree had fallen between the horse and the
cart, pinning both and harming neither.
I deduced the cart had become a victim in the fight that ensued. My
eyes darted for the hero.
Dersa laid against a tree root on the right, her guts spilled open and
her arms hung limp. If she wasn’t dead already, it was coming.
Two scorched bodies of unrecognizable monsters lay a few feet
from her. A single large colorful orb hovered over each of the dead, and I
licked my lips with greed. Talk about a score.
A second later and an orb hovered over Dersa, informing me she
had reached the afterlife.
My fast walk brought me to the remnants of the fight too quickly,
and I realized my error too late.
“Varrvav!” a brutish voice said from behind a tree.
I jumped out of my skin and blurted, “Oh shit.”
A ratkin humanoid leaned out from behind a tree, raising a crude
bow and arrow.
I cringed, tossing my arms in front of my face, and instinctively
turned sideways.
Twang!
The monster released his arrow.
Crack!
A hard tug yanked the walking stick out of my hand, and it
clattered on the rough road. I peered out from my turtle maneuver to see an
arrow embedded in my best weapon.
“Trasvaaava!” the ratkin cried out.
I shifted to glance at a dagger wielding, four-foot tall mythical
creature. I had to shake my head to believe it really existed.
Gray fur, long white whiskers, and a leaf over its crotch. The short
snout, beady eyes, and large ears left me wondering who created such a vile
beast and for what purpose.
My foe snarled, spittle flying from its mouth.
When the monster charged with a brandished knife, I squeaked with
a jolt. I had to move. Every second counted.
I reached down to snatch my walking stick off the ground and cried
out from a hip popping out of joint.
My old leg slid out, and I fell a second before the ratkin arrived.
Oof, I landed with a thud.
Huge, wide eyes gazed down upon my sudden collapse, and I
thought I was a goner.
The monster jabbed down, too late in its efforts. A foot kicked into
my thigh and the ratkin went soaring.
“Saracar!” the beast cried out. “Linssarrrr.”
I lay on the dirty road, failing to get up after my fall.
When I shifted to glance at my opponent, I saw frothy blood
escaping its lips. Green eyes gleamed with hatred, illuminated from the
cart’s blazing inferno.
I rolled to my side, pulling out my dagger.
My free hand went over my hip and through Toneba’s memories, I
said, “Heal self.”
A pop sounded, sending my hip back into place. With laden arms, I
raised to my feet.
The mythical rat man grimaced as it rotated from face down to its
side. The hilt of a dagger protruded from the monster's chest.
“Sucker,” I said with a chuckle. “Serves you right for trying to kill
an old man.”
For a fleeting moment, the ratkin’s eyes pleaded, and I sensed an
intelligence. The creature knew better than to yank the blade free.
Interesting.
I may not be a hunter, a woodsman, or a medieval knight, but I
strode over to the wounded creature with an evil grin spreading across my
face.
The monster shook its head no.
I nodded yes.
Another shake no.
My nod yes emphasized when I peeled back my teeth, letting my
determination show with a sneer.
Death equals life, and I was oh so tired of being old. When I
loomed large over the ratkin, it grew desperate and yanked the blade free.
Blood spurted, and I stepped back until I turned, walking away
quickly.
The ratkin stumbled, gaining its feet with an arduous effort. A
determination set into is very being. Blood bubbled out of its mouth with
each raspy breath.
Oozing red pulses of thick blood ejected out of its chest, telling me
the wound was likely fatal.
The two of us must have been a sight.
Me, power walking away from a monster I towered over. My gait
awkward, my pace tediously slow, and my joints doing snap, crackle, and
pops.
The lumbering monster struggled, slowing with each step while
blindly thrusting its knife as the beast’s vision waned.
I paused, waiting for it to get closer, but a raspy cough resulted in
vomited blood, and the ratkin collapsed with a wet smack.
Walking over slowly, I saw the chest rising and falling ever so
subtly.
“How do I kill you?” I asked.
His gurgled reply didn’t help in the slightest.
“Sharp point into the fleshy bits it is,” I said, readying my dagger
so it pointed down.
I didn’t trust my body to lower itself, so I flopped onto its back like
a belly dive in a pool.
Squish!
My blade slid between the back ribs. I sat on the beast’s back and
stabbed down a dozen times until the body stilled.
A moment later, I recovered from my exertion. I let out a grateful
sigh when a colorful orb appeared over the corpse.
With a grin, I closed my eyes, found my center, and waved my
hands over the Zorta.
A stiff resistance fought me with determination. I grunted, swirling
my hands faster, increasing my effort through sheer will. The orb’s
resistance faltered until it shattered.
The Zorta zipped into my being, and I felt euphoric.
Claim or Consume Zorta
Interesting. That’s new. I need to be young.
I selected Consume Zorta.
Zorta: 1.398 - Consume (Yes) - (No) - (Drop)
Yes! This was so much more than a stupid rabbit.
At the same time, I kinda hoped they’d be worth more. I didn’t
relish the idea of killing ten thousand ratmen - like at all. Still, this was
great, and I mentally selected yes.
Consume for Age reduction (Yes) - (No)
I selected yes. A blast of golden light enveloped me until I flinched
from the bright display. I could feel the exuberant magic dialing back the
clock as my skin tightened.
A few teeth popped back into my mouth. I chuckled, not minding
one bit. The feeling was divine, and I welcomed the conversion from old to
a bit after my prime. I so wouldn't miss the constant aches and pain.
Aging: 22 years, three months until death.
“Victory is mine!” I shouted triumphantly. Instinctively I cringed,
realizing there might be more enemies. I quietly exclaimed, “Yes!”
I jumped a bit, did a jig, and cheered while looking around.
Feeling like a million bucks, I strutted over to my fallen walking
stick. I surveyed the area during my walk, seeing a few things needing my
attention.
The mare wanted free, and three orbs rested over Desra and her
kills. After snatching my best weapon off the gritty road, I went to the mare
first.
Using my bloody dagger like a saw, I cut through thick leather. She
tried to bolt the second she was free, but I yanked back hard to halt her
flight.
Her headshakes lost to my level one strength somehow, and I
guided her to a tree away from the flames where she stopped panicking.
After a quick haphazard knot, I secured her and patted her neck. “I
promise you’re fine.”
The horse neighed unhappily but calmed.
I raked her side with my nails where her harness had flattened fur
and she enjoyed this.
The thought crossed my mind that I could kill her for Z, and my
heart jumped to no instantly. Poor girl had a shitty life as is. Maybe I could
change that.
“In Tarb, you’re getting a pedicure,” I said, and she snickered as I
left. “Back in a jiff.”
The cart collapsed onto itself, spraying cinders into the night. I
jolted from the finality of the creation. I kinda hoped I’d get to claim the
yew wood and sell it along with the cart.
Avoiding the licking flames and popping embers I went to the
ratkin’s body who I had killed first.
As I bent down, my blasted knees still cracked, but in a much
different way. I scoured the body.
Was I a kickass ninja or mighty knight? No, no I was not. I did
happen to play video games on occasion and read a whole lot of books. I
sure as hell wasn’t going to forget about this little shit’s loot.
I found some rocks in a purse, the dagger, and a single gold nugget
sewn into the fur I patted down. Score. I threw it all into the bag.
I walked over to the scene of the fight. A partially melted sword
rested between Desra and one of the charred bodies. I nudged it with my
boot, disappointed that the blade was junk metal now.
My hands reached out, and I channeled my Zorta retrieval spell. I
closed my eyes, focused my core magic, and sought the orb.
The orb held almost no resistance, shooting into my being rapidly.
Hmm… Maybe if they’re dead longer it's easier. Or maybe they
died so thoroughly, the soul lacked an ability to fight. I’m sure my research
in Tarb will tell me.
Claim or Consume Zorta
Again this claim option. Wonder what it’s for.
I selected Consume Zorta.
Zorta: 1.217 - Consume (Yes) - (No) - (Drop)
I selected yes, also curious as to what the no produced. Probably a
trade item. The more I thought about the issue, the higher that probability
became to me.
Consume for Age reduction (Yes) - (No)
I selected no.
No surprise options showed up and I had auto skipped the recharge
option earlier.
I went into my stats.
Zorta: 1.217
Nordan Score: 100
Ostriva Score: 0
“Okay, maybe a kill is a hundred points. At least I have Zorta to
start leveling up this newb body,” I muttered.
Done with the orb, I stomped on the charred body to see what came
free. A sparkly gem shined from the soot.
I plucked it out of the charred body, and after I used my robes to
clean the gem, I saw a small ruby.
“Nice. This will go perfectly with my coins,” I said happily.
I walked to the next dead ratkin whose body still smoked.
This time, I tried the spell with my eyes open. I planted my feet,
hovered my hands over the dead beast’s orb, and willed to me.
Like the other crispy ratkin, this orb didn’t fight me. The colorful
magic zoomed into my belly button and I received a prompt.
“So cool,” I whispered.
Claim or Consume Zorta
I selected claim.
Claiming the ratkin as a minion will result in you earning
Ostriva points. This is your only warning about this action having
consequences. Do you wish to proceed? (YES) or (NO)
“Minion,” I blurted. “Mother of mercy!”
I figured it out. Or at least my mind connected logical dots.
Whether they were accurate or not, remained to be seen.
I arrived in a dead body.
My soul was linked to the dead. Hell, I didn’t even know if the
younger version of Toneba was morphing to look like me or the old man.
I started muttering, “Death. Death is life, life is death. I’m dead on
Earth. I came through the portal incorrectly. Oh man. She better be able to
fix me. If she can fix my parents, then she can fix me. Yes. That has to be it.
As for my unknown magic type…”
I gasped. Checking my stats.
Magic Type: Healer
Healer Level: 1
Magic Type 2: Necromancy
Necromancy Level: 0
I blurted, “I’m a necromancer.”
For an extra second, I kicked the corpse, and immediately regretted
my decision.
Ash flew everywhere, billowing high. Some even landed inside my
mouth. After an excessive amount of spitting and washing out my mouth, I
saw a prompt.
The ratkin minion option has been removed due to excessive
damage.
Consume Zorta (YES) or (NO)
I selected yes. I didn’t want this old body anymore. Time to go
from mid-seventies to mid-fifties to mid-thirties.
Zorta: 1.52 - Consume (Yes) - (No) - (Drop)
I had a feeling this number prompt was put in place after people
picked to consume over use for trade. Maybe I couldn’t extract consumed
Zorta, and this was a second warning. That had to be it.
I mentally selected yes.
Consume for Age reduction (Yes) - (No)
I selected yes, and the golden glow washed over me again. I basked
in the transition, loving every second of the magic.
My pirouette was perfect. I grinned with glee as I felt myself
becoming younger. Skin tightened, muscles contained a renewed tension,
and a sudden energy fed my spirit.
“Yes!” I exclaimed, not so loudly this time.
When the magic finished, I stretched in exuberance.
“Just you and me now, Desra. The final chapter in this little battle,”
I said, searching the trees for the bow the ratkin I killed had used.
I found it tossed aside and snatched it out of a bush. I doubted it
was worth much, but it did shoot.
When I arrived at Desra, I tossed the bow by the ruined sword.
A nasty smell wrinkled my nose, and I concluded it was likely
because her guts reeked in a rotten way. I bent down without any knee
pops.
When I squatted, I bounced a few times for the hell of it.
Desra's frozen eyes remained open after death. I saw two strings
around her neck. I lifted both until they fell over my head. Both purses
clanked with coins inside, and I felt vindicated in my actions.
Her dagger on her belt gleamed with jewels.
“Don’t mind if I do,” I said.
Her staff had exploded in flame. She had probably overcast or
something. Wasn’t sure and didn’t care too much.
A part of me wanted to leave her orb where it was, but the idea of
stealing her soul’s power felt… wrong.
However, it wasn’t like she could use it, and I came to a resolute
decision.
I stood, casting the cultivation spell to salvage her orb before a
ratkin could. The spell wrapped the orb, tugged, and failed.
“Oh damn, didn’t see that coming,” I muttered.
I went into my stats to browse my increases. A dozen stats needed
to be increased. I selected Cultivation.
Cultivation 1 -} Cultivation 2 = .001 Zorta. (YES) or (NO)
“At least the early ones are super cheap,” I muttered then selected
yes.
I wasn’t sure how much an upgrade helped, but it was something.
Closing my eyes this time, I reached out with my spell. I grabbed
onto the orb and before I could tug, an alert hit my eyelids.
Resurrect Desra Faymire (YES) or (NO) - Selecting (NO) will
incur Ostriva points.
“Uh… well, shit,” I grumbled.
I didn’t answer at all and dug into her bag to find more rope. I
bound her hands behind her back using the best granny knot I could.
After a few cinching tugs, I hoped they’d hold her.
I even pulled the dagger out of my belt and slammed into a tree for
her to free herself with later.
With her bag on my back, I stared down at the ruined sword and
shitty bow. Eh, she could keep those and the cheap dagger.
The way I thought about it, she was getting a great deal losing her
materials for her life to be restored.
I went back to the prompt and selected yes.
A blinding light shot down from the heavens, and I staggered from
the pull that connected me to the purple lightning.
My vision faded, dimmed, and went black all in a fraction of a
second.
I shuddered from the spell pulling at my very fiber. Pain racked my
soul, and I wanted nothing more than to be free of the sudden torment.
“Arrrrggggg!” I cried out.
BOOM!
I blasted back, rolling from the conclusion of the spell.
I spat out blood that mixed with the dry dirt on the road. A fit of
coughing caused dirt to dust into my mouth, and I smacked my lips in
annoyance.
When I caught my breath, I saw Desra struggling against her
bindings.
Her guts no longer hung free, and her pale coloration had returned
to an angry red.
Then, as if I had flipped a switch, she calmed.
“By Tew and all the gods, thank you, Damian,” she said with
utmost relief. “You even left a knife, you sweet darling. Sorry for earlier.”
Her hands came free of her binding, and she hopped off the dirt in
an instant. She confidently waltzed over to me as I recovered.
Uh oh.
I scampered to my feet defensively.
“You sure did turn out handsome. I figured you weren’t Toneba,”
she said with a swagger.
“Uh… what do I look like?” I asked.
“Sandy blond hair, piercing blue eyes, and a powerful jawline. The
girls are going to chew you up,” she said with a sinister laugh.
I gulped, worrying I was about to be turned to cinders. She softened
her laugh and held up hands to show she meant no malice.
“How did you know?” I asked.
“Toneba said he was dying last night and we could have his coins
for taking care of him. That and he wanted a burial to return to the soil. Just
like the olden days, now we use fire,” Desra said, coming closer until I
grew uncomfortable.
She folded her arms when I whipped out her dagger. “That’s from
Rexa. I can understand giving you the coins if they were mine, but I’ll need
my blade and the coins. Do so, and I’ll reward you.”
“So, you know I’m not Toneba and you're okay with that?” I asked,
stepping back.
Desra’s hand engulfed into flame, and I gulped. Being a healer
sucked.
She nodded. “Now the village will too. You don’t look a smidge
like him anymore.”
“Well, that answers that question,” I muttered.
“My knife, please. I’d rather not get into another confrontation with
you,” she said.
“What was being dead like?” I asked, not giving her the fine blade.
Internally, I mulled over the decision, but the reality was I had no
minion to fight her with and only had my healing left to cast. My healing
might even be on cooldown.
I flipped the blade over to her when she held out a palm. I walked
around her to free my blade from the tree.
“Until you experience it, you’ll never understand.” She glanced
around the battlefield. “Didn’t even see this one. Was there more?”
I shook my head.
“Did you at least leave one of the dead for me to consume?” she
asked.
“Uh, no, I got all three,” I said.
“Those two were worth a lot of Z,” she said with a sigh. “I owe you
a life debt, though. Especially after I left you for dead. How much time did
you have when I left you?”
“Little over four days,” I said.
She nodded. “Would have just made it. Hey, look, like I said, sorry.
Rexa said you had our coins. They were promised to us. Now, well, now
they aren’t. I could use my purse back though, this cart’s loss will hurt a lot,
and it's not me you’re helping, it's the people of Yew Wood.”
“How did you lose the fight?” I asked, again undecided on her
request. “Level sixteen fire mage.”
“I was feeling sorry for tying you up and ditching you. Temara, the
mare, bolted when the tree fell. She rushed under the trunk and got the cart
stuck to the point it was going to have to be left anyway.
“The two who got me did something I’ve never seen before. They
climbed in the tree and rode it down. The third one must have pushed it
over.
“When I went to undo Temara’s harness, I felt a sting across my
belly. Yeah, they got me good, and for some dumb reason I ran for the
forest while holding my guts. Well, then we fought when I realized I had a
mortal wound.
“My dying wish was for you to find me and show mercy. Honestly,
I only left you about five hours ago. An hour into our walk away, the old
girl wanted a three-hour nap, and I let her, figuring if I saw you we’d run,”
she said sadly.
“Yeah, about that. At least you left the dagger and didn’t slit my
throat,” I said, trying to be positive. “The wood. Was it collected by the
villagers?”
“Yup,” she said. “That’s their money that went up in flames and the
purse is their money for special orders. I have my own funds in the city.”
“And they helped Toneba?” I asked.
“Yeah, the only man to avoid Z and grow old naturally in the
village. He never spoke the last few years. Oh, and my scars are healed,
finally,” she said, patting my shoulder and then holding her palm out.
I removed the coins for the villagers to more or less avoid a fight. If
nothing else, I could take the moral high ground.
They were never mine, and now that the owner was alive, it was
technically stealing, and two rights don’t make a wrong - or some shit like
that.
Deep down, I was unhappy to let the wealth go.
She strode away, going for the mare.
“Ya coming?” she asked in a jovial way.
“To where?” I replied with a confused tone.
“To Tarb. You can jog now and increase your stamina, endurance,
and strength since you took all the Z,” Desra said with a snort.
“You wanna partner up, after we robbed each other?” I asked.
“Yeah, yeah I do. We’re kinda back to square one, and now I owe
you a life debt. Plus, you don’t buy carts in Yew Wood, you buy them in
Tarb,” she said, unlatching Temara. “Also, I can teach you how to tie a
knot. Damn, did you just loop it a bunch?”
“What does this life debt include?” I asked.
“Depends on the person. I owed Rexa a life debt. He asked for a
son,” she said, letting the sentence hang. “Do you want a son, handsome
mysterious man named Damien?”
“Uh… Hmm… What!?” I asked, my voice cracking a bit from
shock.
She let out a throaty laugh. “It’s a life debt, and I jest. You’ll get the
standard rate for a resurrection at Litroo from my personal account at the
King’s Bank. Thirty Z is a lot, but not too large,” she said.
“How long would your orb have stayed there?” I asked, nearing the
trunk of the fallen tree.
“A day. After a day, if I remained unclaimed, the powerful magic
would have vanished and I’d be food for the forest. Some say the variance
in the rewards sways to adjust for unclaimed Z while others say it's random
and to not put too much thought into it,” she said, her voice fading as she
walked for Tarb.
The sun finally conquered the night sky as it peeked over the
horizon.
“Ya coming?” she asked.
I mulled it over. Not trusting her, but deciding that if she wanted me
dead, I’d be dead.
Running to catch up, I welcomed the new day and the fact I was no
longer old.
CHAPTER 6
Nordan - Err Forest
“You need to be careful,” Dersa said.
Birds darted between the canopy, oddly alien yet still captivating.
This was certainly not Earth with the pink wild flowers, turquoise berries,
and six legged squirrels. It did seem to mesh for this world, though.
I grunted. After so much walking, I wished I had shoes. “Yeah, I
get it, don’t trust anyone.”
“Actually, you can trust people here besides with your coin. Just…
not if you're a champion,” she said.
We walked along the rough barren dirt road, seeing farm fields in
the distance. With Desra and the horse walking with me, the looming trees
and peering eyes didn’t bother me as much.
Most of the walk had been in silence, a fact I enjoyed because I was
still bitter. After a full day of decent progress the day before, we had set up
a small campfire, and I went to sleep almost instantly.
I figured I might be worried, but I slept well from sheer exhaustion
and woke up pleasantly free of confinement. This morning, we had rose
before the sun and headed out for an early start to the day.
We likely were getting close to Tarb based on her sudden
willingness to talk.
The early sunrise revealed scattered clouds, dew covered fields
ahead, and early birds getting the worms. The beautiful morning spurred my
curiosity of what other wonders this majestic realm held.
I watched the light breeze pushing around the vegetation. My
acclimation to Nordan was pretty much exactly as Caitlyn had predicted, a
series of learning as I went instead of sitting in a class being taught by the
goddess herself.
“Maybe I’m a sorcerer from Ostriva who teleported into Toneba’s
body,” I said.
She scoffed, laughing until she snorted while holding her belly.
“As if. No, he would have killed my daughter, preyed on the
village, and then departed with us all dead or until Rexa and I killed him.
Yer soft. Too soft. This dreamlife, what was the world like there?” she
asked.
I pondered on how to phrase it and what to tell her. If Caitlyn
wanted Earth a secret, she didn’t exactly press the issue before or after my
transition.
Warping Earth to fit Nordan standards was probably going to be the
easiest.
“The place I came from has magic of its own kind. We could
quickly move around, talk to others anywhere, had flushing toilets, and
there was minimal war. Of course, humans complaining about fellow
humans was still prevalent. We didn’t have an Ostriva invasion to unite
behind,” I said.
“One of the six worlds?” she asked.
Hmm…
“Let’s say I talked to someone who may have been powerful. They
said there was a planet that matched my planet's spin around the sun. Then
said a second planet matched this planet to allow a transfer spell. There’s
six?” I asked
“That’s the story, but I wanted to hear it from a champion,” Desra
said with a tease. “Having those scars washed away in a golden light is its
own kind of heaven. The damn healers here wanted more than it was worth,
and ever since we retired from adventuring, Z is just a bitch to get. I should
have died and had you revive me a while ago.”
I scrunched my face in disgust.
“I saw your guts sprawled in your lap. It appeared horrific,” I said,
even adding a tongue extended blah and fake dry heave.
“Certainly not a healer before. My body is back to being pristine. I
guess I’ll have another baby. Will you deliver this one for me?” she asked
with a tease.
“I… I don’t know what I’m going to do. I was hoping to stick my
butt in a library and learn a few things. I may have a lofty goal of Z to
achieve,” I said nonchalantly.
We exited the treeline. The farm fields stretched for miles, rolling
up and down the landscape ever so gently. The early summer crops sprouted
happily on both sides of the road, displaying oats atop long, golden stems.
Small homes in decent repair were strategically placed in the fields
with smoke venting from rooftops. A few dogs sniffed around porches,
watching us from a distance.
The majestic sight led to a large city wall that stood twenty plus
feet high. Banners snapped in the wind, a whole lot of chimney stacks
kicked out what was likely breakfast fires, and a massive castle in the center
dominated the skyline.
Birds circled above the human populace and raced between the
fields and the forest.
Units of soldiers exited the castle in neat formations, a trumpet
heralding their march. Archers atop mounts led the group and the infantry
held long pikes. They turned west down a wide road, and as we neared, I
noticed a dozen roads converged into two entries with open gates.
“Why no moat?” I asked.
“So, the raszker, the monsters we fought. They’re exceedingly rare
to find on this road. Six hells, this whole area is completely docile, and I’m
shocked those three made it past the hunting parties. You’ll need to study
this, but here is a quick summary.
“To the west is the ocean and a steep cliff face that leads to crashing
waves. To the north, this elevation runs for leagues until it hits the Tangee
Range. To the east, the high ground also stretches for a good while before
dipping. The south is where most of the fighting is because the Great Plains
are now infested with strivains.
“Litroo is not the capital, but it should be. It's the southernmost city
that borders where the spell lifted. That’s where you’ll be going if you need
to fight. This… Tarb is a sanctuary. I… yeah, it’s never been breached and
only attacked with raids a few times. These homes outside the walls are
nice because they’re rebuilt,” Desra said, pointing to some farms that
appeared newer.
“So, I arrived in a peaceful place and you succumbed to random
treachery?” I asked.
“Yeah… When I retell the story, there will be a dozen raszkers who
cut me down. You ran, hid for a bit, and then revived me as they fought
over who got to claim my Z. Then we ran like hell and lost the cart. No way
am I saying I was messing with the horse’s straps and got gutted,” she said
with a shudder.
“Is it worth studying here?” I asked, and she shrugged.
We joined the flow of traffic at a big intersection. Not many folks
came from the north. Trade wagons creaked in front of us as the horses
pulling them trotted to join the two main roads.
A young man and his wife nodded from a merging road, and we let
them join ahead of us. I found myself surprised by how civilized and patient
the others reacted.
Once we sorted ourselves into the line, she answered, “Yeah, laying
low and hitting some books is probably what you should do. Once I pay my
debt to you, I’m gone, so don’t expect me to hold your hand.”
“Find it odd you asked for the coins back and then pay me
separately,” I said.
Desra shrugged. “Wasn’t my money,” she scoffed, shaking her
head. “Of all the things to complain about. You’re going to stick out a lot,
so maybe buy books and head to the woods.”
“I don’t know how to camp,” I grumbled.
She chuckled in dismay. “Light a fire, don’t let something kill you
in your sleep, and try to get to where you’re going early. Look, Damien,
just… be careful while trying to blend in. Youth, as in my kids growing up,
they get a prompt for a while that what they’re doing will cause them to
gain points for Ostriva. You may not get that, and you could end up banned
from these nice cities once you adapt.”
“I fear that too,” I said. “I’m not a warrior. Was hoping to get a job
or something to raise the Zorta I need.”
“Z, Damien, it's Z. Is that your goal though? Gain a lot of Z?” she
asked harshly.
I nodded, avoiding a pile of horse dung swarming with flies.
“Slight problem too. Is there a neutral city?” I asked.
“That’s not a slight problem. That’s a huge problem. These guards
will arrest you if you have over a thousand Ostriva points,” she warned.
I shook my head and said, “At zero, but that may not always be the
case.”
“Fine, be mysterious, not my problem. Litroo is the best place to go
for anyone seeking anything. Trust me. The only reason King Karn didn’t
make it the capital is because that city has to fight off hordes of strivains
sometimes,” Desra said.
“Noted,” I said, seeing we were approaching the wall.
I didn’t smell an overpowering stench of decay or nastiness. I
figured the city would permeate a foul odor. Instead, I saw clean walls as if
they had been scrubbed recently and the roads too.
Glancing down, I noticed the cobbled stones were fused together
somehow, as if by magic. I enjoyed seeing their unique coloration melted
together at edges. A crew of young teenagers scooped up the horse dung we
passed and trotted it to a burn pit away from the road.
A mage blasted the barrel with fire, increasing the pluming smoke.
The more I scanned Tarb from the outside, the more I realized how efficient
such a place was. Taxes hard at work and even the garb of the soldiers was
extravagant.
The guards atop the parapet with crossbows or manning the siege
ballista all shone, staring out with indifference to those wanting in. I
doubted they feared the morning crew of city entries.
I twisted my jaw in confusion, glancing up and down the line to
enter Tarb.
“What's the matter?” Desra asked.
“Everything’s so clean, not at all like Yew Wood. I expected to
smell shit and for there to be flies in abundance or whatever. I don’t know. I
didn’t expect a clean city,” I said.
She smirked. “Yeah, I’d hire a guide and stop saying stuff that gives
you the six hells away. Magic, you goof. There’s magic. Fire mages burn
shit, water mages fill aqueducts, soil mages bury the dirt, air mages scatter
the lingering smells, and so it continues. Spoiler, Yew Wood is missing a
water mage.
“Anyways, I’m the opposite of Toneba. I became greater than ever
before when the mists lifted. Now, I’m a revered fire mage and can hire a
water mage to come out once a moon cycle. The conflict has taken my
children and yet brought prosperity. Nothing is perfect, but I like this way
more,” she said, raising her tunic.
I saw a guard approach us as a wagon needed an inspection.
“Purpose?” he asked with a stern tone and intense glare.
“Shoppin,” Desra said quickly.
“Expose your orbs,” he said.
I opened my robes, not sure what to say. When his finger touched
my belly button, I received a prompt.
A guard of Tarb wishes to inspect your status. Only your
Nordan and Ostriva points will display. Do you wish to grant access
(YES) - (NO)?
I accepted yes.
“A hundred Nordan points, cockless,” the guard said with a sneer.
I went to defend myself when Desra patted my shoulder, applying a
light shove.
“Ah, no need fer that, we good to go shopping?” Desra asked.
The guard nodded, waving us through.
We passed the threshold, joining a quiet road heading into Tarb.
The first buildings consisted of large, boxy stables and wagon shops.
When I thought about it, having the big items get tucked away at
the start of a city made sense. I also expected the market to be close to the
gates, and it was not.
We didn’t stop at the stable to put Temara away. I guess she
wouldn’t be getting her promised special treatment because we walked by
the larger barn style buildings. I did get a few nasty wafts of fresh animal
dung mixed with hay, but this made sense being in this section.
The trip down the road led to its first intersection. Vendors had set
up shop in the very center, selling trinkets, or food and drink. A few cried
out, trying to sell their wares. Desra ignored them, leading us deeper into
the city.
I did glance down the side roads, seeing two and three story homes
built of stone. Porches adorned flowerbeds, clothing hung from strings, and
the pristine upkeep surprised me.
The entire city surprised me. I had to wonder if there were slums,
because so far, I only saw a well laid out city with clean streets, cared for
structures, and even guards strategically placed.
A youthful population went about their day. Everywhere I gazed, I
saw nice clothes, clean hair, and mostly smiling people in their young
twenties. I knew this wasn’t how a medieval city of Earth would look.
I guess the magic really makes a difference. Or is it because this is
an isolated city away from the war?
Even Yew Wood village seemed to lack poor people.
I finally saw a middle aged man pleading for coins up ahead.
Guards quickly plucked him off the street and into an alley.
“The poor, where are they?” I asked.
“Astute of you to notice. This far north, there’s safety, stability, and
prosperity. You want to beg, go south. That’s repeated into the populace.
There’s work in the south. That man will get stuck inside a building, fed a
meal, and then placed in a wagon to go to Litroo,” Desra said with
indifference.
“Oh, New York sent homeless to California after Florida stopped
allowing flights from the state with government purchased tickets,” I said,
and she frowned at me. “Right, we do something similar. Where’s the poor,
though?”
“What are you babbling about? The poor are on the south end of
town, behind another wall. If there’s an invasion from the south, they have
to get through the slums,” Desra said without an ounce of compassion.
I had always lived a mediocre life and never was rich. I still felt bad
for those less fortunate.
The street reached an internal circle with the road bending left and
right. A big bank rested in the middle, directly across the street.
We weaved through the cross traffic and Desra hitched Temara to a
post. I watched the knot she used, which was the same one she taught me on
the trip here. Small things like that would matter.
“This is it. The bank will get my approval, and then you’ll have to
see a manager to get an account and they’ll realize you don’t have
paperwork. I’d tell them you’re an immigrant from Fraunt. That’s Empress
Sarass’s realm.
“That’s common enough, and you just bullshit your way from there.
Having a zero Ostriva score will sell that you're a good guy. Around this
circle, on the back end is the market. Look, you really exude the mediocre
achiever. Stick to that to stay under the radar,” she said.
“Hey,” I protested. “Eh, not far off. I do like happiness over hard
work.”
“You ready?” she asked.
I nodded, and we walked up the steps to my new beginning.
CHAPTER 7
Nordan - Tarb
“Here’s your paperwork, Damien Moonguard. Sorry about the
wait,” the bank manager said in a soothing tone.
I accepted the paperwork that had taken a whopping five or six
hours to organize. No wonder Desra said her goodbyes before we entered.
“Can I now deal within this kingdom?” I asked.
“Undoubtedly. The top copy has a certified note saying you're now
a recognized adventurer of the Karn Kingdom with all fees paid. Keep your
Ostriva points below the thresholds, and you’re free to go where you like. If
you follow me, you can now choose to withdraw some funds,” the manager
said, leading me to a teller.
A young woman smiled coyly. I grinned back, and she giggled. The
manager rolled his eyes then left.
“Ignore him. He’s not a people person. So, you’re new to town?
Welcome. I’m Trossa,” she said, pronouncing it Throw-ssaa.
“Thanks,” I said with my winning smile. “Tarb seems lovely.”
She batted her lashes. “Let’s see, you have a deposit for thirty Z
and then a deduction of half a Z for paperwork. This bank offers Z, coins, or
notes. I’ll warn you that the notes only work in Tarb, and if you overdraft, it
will not cash and you’ll face punishment. Most businesses use runners, but
a few rash fools still make poor decisions.”
I danced my fingers across the counter.
“The notes mean if I’m robbed I won’t lose anything?” I asked.
“Almost. Your paperwork has your last name on it. Even I can’t see
that. When you sign over a banknote, you sign your last name, and a
manager approves it. Do that enough times, or in front of the wrong person,
and they’ll be able to forge your notes. Not perfect, but it does leave thieves
guessing if they pick your pocket with unsigned notes,” Trossa said.
“Okay, let me ask. How many gold coins for a single Z?” I asked.
She pulled out a clipboard, tracing a finger down the spreadsheet.
“Today it is twelve gold and three silver.”
“And the cost of say - a beer, a pair of boots, new robes, and a
horse?” I asked.
She mulled over her answer. “Five coopers for an ale at most
places. Obviously cheaper in the slums and more expensive near the palace.
Sandals are a silver or two and what most wear. A quality pair of boots will
cost you up to a few gold pieces as some are armored. A mare will be five
or more gold for an older horse and then it goes crazy.
“I see your eyes widening. Yeah, Z is expensive. If it wasn’t, no one
would venture out to get it. You’re not rich, but this is enough Z to get you
out of robes, into a nice hotel with decent boots, and a quality stallion.
Assuming that is what you’re wanting to do.”
I hefted the sack of coins off my neck and said, “Deposit these, and
then I’ll take some larger denominations of Z.”
“Oh, um… Marstan!” she said, hollering over her shoulder. “I gotta
verify the authenticity since you’re from -” she paused, spilling the coins
onto her desk. Her face scrunched when she realized the coins were local.
“Never mind. I assumed incorrectly,” she hollered.
“Sorry, I should have -”
She interjected, “You’re fine. Literally.”
This amused Trossa greatly. Her chortle carried on for some time. I
paused my retort of thanking her to see she was not homely and yet not a
model.
I didn’t know what my next plan was other than to see a library.
“I’m new to town, obviously. Do you know a trusting guide?” I
asked.
Her eyes darted up with disappointment, and I didn’t think I was
the reason.
“Not me, unfortunately. Bank policy is to not mingle with
customers directly. If we had a chance encounter at say, Tootsies, tonight
after dinner rush, well that would be okay. A nice place on the other side of
the circle. Now, I see a golden nugget and a ruby. Battle loot?” she asked,
sorting Toneba’s purse.
“Yup.”
“Adding these back in, you’ll have to move them yerself. If you get
a whole lot, the bank will bring in a vendor for a fee, but these aren’t worth
it. As for the guide, whatcha needin’ beside what you mentioned earlier?”
she asked. “I can give recommendations.”
“I guess trust is my biggest issue at the moment. I haven’t been
having good luck with the locals lately,” I admitted.
She sighed sadly.
“That’s an easy fix, now that you’re here. Just hire someone who
has to stay trustworthy,” Trossa countered with a look that said I should
know this.
“Umm… okay,” I said. “I need a trustworthy guide who can show
me to a bookstore or library, a place to stay while I do some research, a little
shopping, and then a horse to go to Litroo. Oh, and work while I stay…I’m
a healer.”
She took a deep breath. “That sounds like you need your hand
held.” I nodded, not ashamed to admit I needed help. “Any aversion to
miscee?”
What the hell is a miscee?
“Um… we must use a different term,” I lied.
“The mouse strivains, the ones who mature quickly and breed like,
well, mice. Four feet tall, mouse ears and whiskers,” she said. “They’re not
cheap, but they are a great help and have unlimited patience.”
I gulped and said, “I can hire… or buy them?”
“Huh, they’re not human. In the Karn Kingdom, miscee are
servants with rights but not freedoms. Most are well cared for,” she said.
“None can be abused.”
I scratched the back of my neck, not sure what to say. I wasn’t into
slavery. I guessed I could be the good guy and free them, hoping in
exchange they’d help me honestly for a bit.
I would want to help a mythical creature if they freed me. Yeah,
freeing the downtrodden is a noble cause.
“They're at the market?” I asked, feeling better about the situation.
She nodded and said, “Everything you need will be at the market.
There’s a great library in the capital and another in Litroo, but none here. I
recommend you take banknotes with a few orbs of Z and a purse of silver
around yer neck at a minimum.”
“That sounds wonderful,” I said.
She refilled my purse with a few neatly folded bank notes, a few
dozen silver, and then ten orbs that shone with their wonderful coloration.
“How much in the orbs?” I asked.
She eyed me funnily. “The orbs will always have the verify check.
Can’t fake how much Z is in an orb. These are all a single Z per. If you end
up spending three and a half Z, just get the six gold and a silver or two
back. The mages who parse these generally aren’t cheap for the average
user, but a business? Sure.”
I accepted the purse, placing it over my neck.
For a few seconds, I just stood there smiling at her, sort of
forgetting it was time to go.
I tipped my head in thanks, and she waved goodbye.
Becoming a resident of Nordan didn’t feel any different but having
some funds to adjust to my situation certainly helped. In the end, I was
kinda surprised Desra paid up.
Walking out of the bank, I daydreamed about just needing to reach
my lofty goal to go back home. Dreams of grandeur raced through my head
to resurrect a few hundred people and wash my hands of Nordan. I’d earn
my ten thousand Z and be on a beach with my parents in no time.
CHAPTER 8
Tarb Market
“What? That’s crazy,” I said in disbelief.
The man behind the tent in the apothecary station didn’t care for
my tone.
I calmed myself and said, “Sorry, I’m new to Tarb. To enter the
healers queue, I need a license. To get a license, I need to take a course
from the mages’ guild. To apply to the course, I need a hundred Z and level
ten in healing?”
“Yes. Are you daft? That's exactly what I said. We can’t have
untrained fools exploding our tents every time we need a resurrection. Get
out before I have you thrown out,” the mage said, aggressively pointing to
the exit.
I turned and stormed out.
When I was free of the store, I muttered, “Asshole.”
So much for finding work at a registered place. I guess I did create
a bomb when I revived Desra.
That wasn’t the worst part either. Desra over paid by ten times. At
least for here, where people likely didn’t die often, and there was an excess
of healers.
I turned back to see the sign on the door said advanced healing 1
gold for 10 mana consumed and three Z for a resurrection.
That meant I would have to find a whole lot of dead people with
enough Z to get me back home in this safe city.
I huffed, not getting too deterred as I joined the bustling crowd with
the din of people chatting. The main circle held an ambience of a fantasy
movie with its clacks of hooves, shuffle of feet, and bells trying to lure in
customers.
The city certainly overwhelmed my senses, leaving me a bit off
guard because not even thirty feet in, someone kicked my walking staff out
of my hand. Naturally, I wanted to collect it from the road, but a foot booted
my staff further away.
A hooded man hovered over the stick, and his eyes darted to
another man. I think they were waiting for me to bend over and then try to
snatch the purse from my neck.
Maybe walking sticks were easy targets, or they followed me from
the bank.
Either way, I walked to the nearest guard, told him of the situation,
and he actually cared. The two goons dispersed into the crowd, and I
retrieved my walking stick that not a single person bothered to pick up.
The guard pointed me to the local robe seller, and I hurried to the
store. A sewn interior pocket would be lovely and put my concern at ease.
After opening the door softly, a bell announced my entry.
The interior danced from a warm light, revealing a wooden interior
of vertical planks. White orbs of energy hung strategically from the wooden
rafters on chandeliers. A scent of wood and cloth rested richly in the area.
The start of the store opened into rows of robes, fancy male attire,
and then deeper in were the rows upon rows of ladies clothing. This was a
lady’s store if I had to guess.
A few women eyed me with whispered tones and lingering eyes.
“Welcome to Mackee’s,” a soft voice said from the back of the
store. “Anything particular?”
“Uh, yes. Robes, under shorts, under shirt, boots for hiking, sandals
for walking, and thick leathers for adventuring,” I said.
“It would be best to get your armor and boots elsewhere. We focus
on the soft and breathable. Adventuring stores have those items in excess
while we cater to city living.” The soft spoken man came around the corner
with a tape measure. “Interesting. Going for the ruggedly handsome and
letting some age show. Too few do that and stick to their prime age.”
A opened my mouth to reply but simply smiled instead.
“Arms out,” he said, and I obeyed. He ran a measuring stick along
my arm while wrinkling his nose. “Adventuring sure can be grueling. What
are you needing to buy?”
“A few sets of clothing and something to secure my coins with,” I
said, adjusting while he worked.
“Do you want an armpit sling? Or I have robes with inlaid pockets.
We make both. The armpit sling is tight to the shoulder and your purse rests
in your armpit. It’s gross but safe. The body naturally protects that area by
lowering your arm. Anything else?” he asked.
I smiled and said, “Sewn into the interior, and a sling to try. That’ll
be more than enough. The cost?”
“Let’s walk and shop,” he said happily, “After we get the rest of
your inseams.”
The next ten minutes, he measured me and led me around the store.
The clothing he picked out was fashionable, and I kept catching glances
from the ladies shopping.
Instinctively, I smelled my armpits and realized I was beyond ripe.
If I was going to the library, I better get changed first to at least be
presentable. I pondered what a hotel room would be like in Tarb as I let the
tailor select clothing for me.
“Three gold,” he said, catching my attention.
I heard the ladies laughing at something, and the bell chime as they
left.
I set a Z orb on the counter. The man chanted - power is life, life is
power - and a second later, he plucked the orb off the wooden surface. Nine
gold and a few silvers were laid in its place.
“Thanks for your business,” he said.
“May I get a recommendation for a nice inn?”
“Carleena’s is toward the bank or Tootsies is around the bend, past
the market,” he said. “Next door is Tarb Venturin and More. Best to get
your gear there.”
We bid each other farewell. When the door clasped closed, I stayed
on the stairs for a moment with my new clothes awkwardly in my arms. The
street teemed with all sorts of healthy young humans.
None seemed interested in me, going about their day. I did see my
first miscee carrying bags behind some nobles.
I stayed on the sidewalk, heading into Venturin & More. A guard
stood at the door. He gave me a quick inspection with indifference, but he
didn’t halt my entry. The glass door revealed no patrons and a man writing
in a ledger at a checkout desk.
This store had more windows to let in natural light and additional
magical orbs up high. The interior was stone with marbled floors and
wooden shelving creating neat rows. A few sections avoided the shelving
for weapon racks, and I immediately felt overwhelmed by the thousands of
items for sale.
“Can I help ya?” the rugged man with a cheek scar and a bushy
beard said.
He appeared young but had never corrected the damage to his face.
Maybe he liked showcasing the battle wounds he recovered from?
“I’m new to the realm and lost most of my gear getting here. Treat
me like a youngling. To start, I could use a bag to store these clothes in,” I
said.
“Yani’s the name, follow me. If you stick a gold in my palm, I’ll let
ya grab the bag and start stuffin’ items in it,” he said, eyeing me with a stern
glare.
I reached into my bag and placed down the retainer.
He hefted the coin, checking it against the magical lights from
above. After he bit the golden coin, he stuck it in a pocket.
“What’s yer budget?” he asked, a bit of hunger in his voice.
I avoided directly answering. “I need a healing staff, some boots, a
bag, and some form of armor,” I said.
“I’d say. That robe is over fifty years old and if -” Yan shuddered,
pausing his sentence to keep from offending me.
We arrived at a section of bags, and he hefted one. A larger bag a
few down the row had a pillow, a blanket, a shovel, a pot, and a water jug
on it. I pointed to that one, and he swapped them out.
A second later, he had the opening spread wide for me to stuff my
fine clothing into.
He didn’t say much, whistling a tune. The man was in his element.
His store was empty besides me, and I had to wonder how much I was
overpaying for the one-on-one service.
“Those noble clothin, from Macks?” he asked, pointing to the bag. I
nodded. “Give me a set.”
I rummaged through the bag, handing him the one outfit that came
in two pieces. He used the soft cloth to measure up against hard leathers.
“Medium-large or large small,” he muttered, handing me my fine
outfit back. “There’s plated leather. It weighs a ton and will literally kill you
in the summer. There’s also light leather which will help from brush and
pike pokes from sharp sticks but that’s ‘bout it. There’s medium hide too.
It’ll help a bit. A strong swing from a sharp blade, though, and it's done.
What’s yer magic type?”
“Healer,” I said, and he rolled his eyes with a scoff. “I said I was
from out of town.”
“More like never been in a city before. Wastin’ money on fine
clothing. We have healer robes. You’ll never need armor or thick leathers
unless you’re solo adventurin’ which no healer does,” he said.
He led me to a back wall with six staves. We bypassed those for
four types of robes, with two being for winter. Out of the two summer
options, one was white and green for a city while the other was thick brown
with black trim and a black belt. He yanked the forest version down, and
held it to my body frame.
“Perfect. It's four gold, though,” he said.
“Three,” I replied, trying my best to blend in.
“Aye, I guess since yer getting the bag too. That walking stick is
just a stick ya know,” he said.
“Uh… and these?” I asked, pointed to the staves.
“Each staff is different. All they do is channel the spell. Use them
to conserve mana. The one on the right is a 25% reduction at a hundred Z.
The one on the left 3% at a single Z,” he said.
I eyed my walking stick, and said, “Pass on the staff for now, but if
I end up suddenly using lots of mana, I’ll come back for it.”
Yani cringed at my words. I let it go, I simply hadn’t run out of
mana yet and 3% savings would hardly matter. Plus, I was certain his rates
were exuberant.
“Yer feet are a large. Decent boots and sandals will be three gold
for both, at my lowest rate for the group buy. Anything else?” he asked.
“A simple sword, please. Nothing too fancy,” I said.
He nodded, taking me toward his desk at the front. We passed a
rack of weapons that all helped to overwhelm me. He eyed me, the swords,
me again, and then grabbed a simple blade with a hide belt off the rack.
“It’ll kill, maim, and destroy, just like the fancy blades do.
Anything else?” he asked again.
“That’ll do for now… oh, and a place to change,” I said.
He lifted a finger to the changing station at the back of the store.
“Change in there. I’ll have my helper burn your robes you leave behind,” he
said with a smirk. “That’ll be nine gold, three silver.”
I glanced at the joint wall and had to wonder if he saw my
transaction from earlier or was it sheer chance he knew my change amount.
I fetched Yani the coins then headed for the changing room. Getting
into shorts and an undershirt felt great. I donned the adventuring robes until
I could get a bath.
That stupid thing you always tell yourself not to do, like sniffing
nasty robes a man died in, I did that. With a shudder, I abandoned Toneba’s
simple robes and left the store as a new man.
I joined the crowd, heading to Tootsies.
Again, I saw another miscee.
My brief inspection revealed what the teller said. Not a rat
humanoid, but a mouse one with far more human features than I expected.
Interesting. Did they just surrender to humanity for protection?
Instead of letting the thoughts linger, I stayed alert. Robbing the
foolish probably didn’t cost humans Ostriva points, so they tried to nick
whatever they could. I stuck to the store fronts with my bag on my back.
After a few minutes of walking, Tootsies’ Tavern loomed across the
street at three stories high. The third floor had balconies, and I knew what I
wanted right away. A view to let the chaotic Tarb set in while I read books
would be great.
After a few apologies to get across the road, I entered the open
door.
An attendant desk stood empty on the right. I spied a light lunch
crowd and a mostly empty bar. A sweeping barmaid hummed a tune while
working.
A patron pointed me out, and she hurried over.
Her outfit hid most of her figure. She had radiant hazel eyes with
sweeping shoulder length hair brown hair. I saw a bandage over her forearm
and wondered why she hadn’t been healed.
Before I could ask, she said, “Welcome to Tootsies. My name’s
Bell. Would you like lunch or a room?”
“Let’s start with a room. How much for a view?” I asked, pointing
up like a goofball.
“We got the small suite. It doesn’t face the market, but it's still nice.
How many nights?”
I held up three fingers.
She cocked her head back and shouted, “Maddy, price on the west
balcony for three nights?”
An apron wearing cook poked her head out from the back kitchen
area. “I’m in need of a mason mage. You able to bind stones?” Maddy
asked.
That sounded like an awesome magic. I shook my head no. “I can
heal her arm though,” I said.
“That doesn’t help me. You conduct your own transaction. Three
nights will be fifteen gold, five nights for twenty,” she said.
I nodded, and she furled her brows, upset I didn’t haggle with her.
Someone from deeper in the kitchen called for her, and she left the
doorway.
“Let me see your arm,” I said.
“I can’t pay,” she pouted.
I chuckled and said, “Save the pity party. I got spare mana, gold,
and I need to level. So, what happened?”
“The hearth. I had to put the flames out, and the oak popped a
chunk off the burning log, right onto my forearm,” she said, unwrapping her
arm.
Her skin boiled with puss. The burn wound flared red with anger,
and it smelled funky. Odd. I pretended like I knew what the yellowish
coloration meant with subtle head nods.
My hand went over the wound, and I whispered, “Heal other.”
The green illumination pulsed from my palm, fighting her wound.
The puss dissipated ever so slowly. I continued to watch the festering repair
until my vision blurred.
“What the?” I slurred in confusion.
Next thing I knew, I face planted into the bar’s wooden floors. My
stomach twisted angrily. I tried to hold in my jerky and water but failed.
I hurled all over Bell’s nice shoes.
A minute, maybe three, passed. I wasn’t quite sure. When my
senses returned, Maddy stood over me with hands on her hips.
“If this wasn’t for free, I’d be ten tones of angry red. You idiot,” she
said, waiting for an answer.
“My parents didn’t let me heal much, and I’m new to my magic,” I
said, my mind still reeling.
“Are ya a prince or somethin’? Whose parents lock them up until
they’re in their thirties?” Maddy asked with a stern tone and squinted eyes.
Shit, yeah, that lie sucked.
“I’m oath bound not to say,” I said, swiping my sleeve across my
mouth to remove the last bit of bile. “I need a room, a runner, and some
quiet. Oh, and apparently some food.”
One of the guys at the bar found this last bit hilarious and burst into
a boisterous laugh.
“Knock it off, Trovo,” Maddy said with a finger wag.
“That’s extra. All that costs, and you better be good for it,” she
said, watching me struggle to rise.
“And the price for a night with help?” I asked.
While she huffed, I touched my belly button.
You have increased Healer Level, Mana Rejuvenation. Are you
ready to invest in upgrading these stats? (YES) - (NO)
I selected yes to both.
“Single Z,” Maddy ordered. “Stand there.”
I nodded, following her finger across the bar.
Bell channeled a spell, her hands waving blue tendrils. The thin
strings of blue magic increased in size until she whipped around water.
With two extended hands, she pushed a gush of water across the
floor and sent my vomit out the door.
The liquid splashed down, and a few of the pedestrians wisely
escaped the spray in the nick of time. With her distraction complete, I
continued with my upgrades.
Healer Level 1 -} Healer Level 2 = .001 Zorta. (YES) - (NO)
Mana Regeneration 1 -} Mana Regeneration 2 = .001 Zorta.
(YES) - (NO)
I selected yes to both. Bell came over and said, “I’ll take him.”
“Paperwork,” Maddy demanded with an open hand. I grumbled but
handed her the paperwork from the bank. She whispered something in
Bell’s ear.
While the two chatted, I pulled up my rejuvenation booster option.
Consume for .05 Zorta for 22 Mana (Yes) - (No)
I selected yes and all my fatigue went away. When I looked around,
Bell was holding my bag that must have fallen off me.
Caitlyn said I would stumble, tumble, fall, and learn my way
through Nordan. Apparently, she missed vomit on a pretty girl's shoes too.
We went up a set of stairs, down a hall, then stopped at an exterior
exit.
“Uh…” I said.
“Come on, you can’t stay here. Yer thirty plus, having mana issues,
and are from out of town. All that screams rob me, I’m a rich, runaway
prince,” Bell said with a disgruntled head shake.
“But the view,” I said.
“You can afford a nicer place. My Ma runs Olera’s Finest. It’s
closer to the palace. Now draw yer hood,” she said as if we were in
imminent danger.
I followed her out of the building and down an alley staircase.
“Water mage,” I commented, watching her hips snap on the way
down the stairs.
“Whole life. Only twenty-six, never tell though,” she said, focusing
on the steps down.
Her long dress hid her curves, and I instead focused on the greater
city. We walked between alleys that consisted of large homes.
A few blocks in, estates began, and we shifted by guarded entries
and onto an open street. Bell looked the part of a random girl carrying
laundry, and I guess I was her guard.
The ten minute walk revealed sewer drains, a building for burning
garbage, water columns running above in aqueducts, and more exquisite
stone architecture.
The only thing missing were drones and kids walking into each
other while they stared at their phones. Not to mention, besides a few salt
and pepper men or the odd cougar, everyone was young.
The age thing, if I had to guess, the magic reduced you until you
were in your prime. Likely, twenty two to twenty five, because that is what
everyone appeared to be. I knew a whole lot of old folks from Earth would
love Nordan magic.
We turned down a road with a guard, and I was finally challenged.
Bell knew the guard, but he checked my identity anyway. Instead of
insulting me, he swiped my orb and grunted before waving me forward. If I
had to guess, his lack of caring was because I had an escort.
We approached a massive, white marbled hotel that rose five stories
tall. Instead of using the front door, we turned into an alley where a
lounging guard waved Bell and I in.
A quick jaunt through hot kitchens and a few seconds later, we
knocked on a private door labeled Mistress. Bell puffed her cheeks
nervously before rapping a light knock.
“Just a minute,” a voice from inside said.
I reached down to Bell’s arm, and she started to panic. “I used Z to
recharge my mana.”
“For my arm!” she hissed as if I were insane.
I nodded. “Sorry, not sure what happened back there.”
“Mana exhaustion,” she said, biting her lip as the wound healed.
“Thank the goddess. You’re odd but impressive. This wound was so
bothersome, and I have just the right way to repay you.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“That sounds nice. If your mom is the boss, why don’t you work
here?” I asked.
“I don’t have enough experience to work here. Takes ten years even
if Ma is the boss. She offered to pay for a healer, but I’m an overachiever,
and I’m really grateful,” Bell admitted, her face going crimson.
“Yeah, I settle for happy mediocrity,” I said with a shrug.
“What kingdom did you flee?” she asked. Her hazel eyes pleaded
for an answer. “I swear on Caitlyn, I won't tell a soul.”
I grinned at this statement.
“Caitlyn the Deviant?” I asked in a test.
She tucked her chin back in confusion.
“Caitlyn the Temptress,” Bell said.
“I have it from a good source she used to go be Caitlyn the
Deviant,” I said with a shrug.
“Mother has a shrine of her in her office. This is a house of flesh,
after all.”
“Huh?” I asked.
Her confusion persisted. “Caitlyn is the goddess I worship, and this
is a place of sex for coin. The working girls have it good here.”
“Oh, you're a whore?” I asked, wishing the words back the second
they blurted out.
Her eyes widened, and she leapt in my face to say something when
a disgruntled man jerked the door open.
“Lenny, cool it or you’re fired,” a younger, prettier Bell said with
an authoritarian tone. This version came in a busty corset, blue eyes, and
long black hair.
“Sorry, Mistress,” Lenny said.
I let out a soft whistle. She raised an eyebrow at me with a
perplexed expression. The second the Mistress noticed her daughter, she
said, “Out. No favorites.”
“Ma, he healed my arm and is not from here. More importantly, he
has coins and proper paperwork. Maddy didn’t want the heat after he… he
passed out healing my arm the first time,” Bell said.
“And the second?” she asked. Bell showed off her smooth arm. “He
looks like an adventuring bum. It's a single Z for a closet room.”
“And a balcony with a runner to fetch me items I desire?” I asked.
“Whatcha wanna see?” she asked curiously, as if testing me.
I smirked and said, “Tarb. This city is much different than mine. I
need to find some answers, and I’ve already had someone try to rob me.”
“Alright, enough of these questions out in the open. I won’t rob
you, even though I think I could charge you five Z and you’d pay it. Single
Z, penthouse, and only because you did the right thing by healing my baby.
That and it has the private elevator to the kitchens, and I can hide you
better. Place a Z in my palm or the offer expires. Three, two, -”
I reached into my armpit, finagled the latch, then tossed the whole
bag.
Bell shook her head in dismay.
“No shit your’re not from Tarb. By Caitlyn, I -”
The statue behind the woman cleared its throat, whispering in a
barely audible tone that only the mother could understand, but we could
hear it clearly speaking.
Bell’s mother trembled, and I smirked. Bell, she went to scream,
and I rushed to cover her mouth. A muffled cry escaped my hand, and she
broke my grip in a second.
“Stupid strength of one,” I muttered under the sound of Bell’s
shriek.
I stepped back, held up my hands, and waited for the guards.
Sure enough, men and women mages came barreling for the back
office.
Bell’s mother strode out of the room and with a commanding voice
said, “Stand down.”
“Yes, Mistress,” the obedient troops replied quickly.
They hovered in place, waiting to see what happened next.
The mother went to the daughter’s ear and whispered something for
a few minutes. Bell’s face became a rollercoaster of emotions. Sad, happy,
sad, and then determined.
“Off with you, princess. Follow me, stinky man,” the Mistress
commanded.
“This isn’t over, Ma. I know what I saw,” Bell said, and I swore she
was playacting.
“Unless you wanna end up exiled, you’ll say nothing. Your future is
not tied to this man even if you wish it were,” the younger looking mother
scolded.
One of the burly guards grabbed Bell, and she dropped my bag I’d
forgotten to take from her. I scooped up the pack and followed the Mistress
into the kitchen.
We were followed by her guards, and she shooed them away. No
one spoke, and an eerie silence hung in the kitchen as the boss went to a
private elevator.
She opened the door, and we entered with me setting my things in a
corner.
“Wind that crank,” she ordered, pointing to a wheel with a handle.
“Ugh, you reek.”
“Haven’t been exactly relaxing in a comfy bath,” I snorted.
The elevator creaked up, and the Mistress placed a hand atop mine,
halting the progress. She pulled me down until her lips brushed against my
ears.
“Caitlyn said you were deprived, but this is not the place for your
lust to be sated,” she said, a hand sliding between my robes to run down my
stomach. “More than once. No one else believed in my Goddess or paid her
tribute as much as I have, and now I’m being rewarded.”
“Umm…” I hesitated, wincing because she was sexy and when her
hand slid south, she found an eager toy. “I don’t know your name, and I
really need to get some answers.”
“My name is Nim, and you’re but a boy. You’ve been a good boy
for staying alive and the only woman I call Mistress, wants you rewarded.
A bath is being drawn, and then I will get my fill from you. No deceit, no
tricks, and all the fun a handsome man can hope for,” she said, kissing my
earlobe seductively.
I squirmed slightly, not enjoying the fact that she held my manhood
like a bartering tool. “I need my coin purse back, some books on -”
“Necromancy,” she said, and I relaxed. If she knew that, Caitlyn
had indeed talked to her. Meaning, either I was dead again or about to
actually get a bath reward. “Connected the dots, did ya? I see it in your
eyes. Caitlyn is watching, and she said to give you the full Mistress’ tour.”
I smiled, grabbing a plump ass cheek. I said, “Sweet. This is going
to be fun. I still need items before I flee.”
Before she could comment, I cranked on the wheel and hurried us
up to the top floor.
CHAPTER 9
Tarb Market
I didn’t sleep much that night. Nim held true to her word, and I
lavished in her praising rewards. She was a very thorough lover.
The next morning, before the sun cracked the horizon, the private
elevator creaked, telling me I had a visitor coming. I dressed quickly then
equipped my sword.
Nim had said to be ready for anything, so I placed my hand on the
pommel.
Apparently, Caitlyn said I needed to flee Tarb. Too many people
were curious who the new guy was with no skills, and aged to the point, he
should have some.
To help me escape, Nim told me she would procure everything for
me besides a wagon and horses.
When the door slid open, Nim sauntered out of the small space with
a leering grin. Her large breasts were propped up in a dress fit for a ball.
The extravagant outfit probably hurt with how small it made her waist.
“Again,” she said with lust filled eyes.
I was all for the nonstop sexcapades, but according to her, I needed
to hurry out of Tarb. The busiest gate exits were at sunrise when folks left to
start their day jobs. Blending in would be easiest with the crowds.
I shook my head. “Mission matters,” I said, accepting a soft kiss.
I heard stumbling and saw Bell exit the elevator. The poor girl was
laden down with a huge travel bag.
My eyes widened. The woman - who dressed the polar opposite of
her mother - wore leather adventuring gear that hid her figure. She even had
a leather poncho draping her front and back.
“Uhh, did I miss something?” I asked. Nim had mentioned I would
get an assistant, a miscee to help me in my journeys to gain my Zorta “I
thought I was getting a miscee?”
“You are,” Bell grumbled. “There’s… oof, help me with one of
these.”
I walked around the mother to reach the daughter and grabbed a
smaller cloth bag holding books.
While I stuffed them into my bag, I asked, “Why are you here?”
“Caitlyn wants you to have a guide. My request was denied,
unfortunately. The great goddess said to have your way with my daughter
and limited my time with her champion. I built her a damn temple and she
assigns the floor sweeper,” Nim said rudely, a resting bitch face went with
her words.
I hefted my heavy bag and grunted. “Okay, slow it down, Nim. The
plan was to get me supplies for a month, books for me to learn from, maps
for me to study, and then a miscee to help guide me.”
“Except yer a dunce,” Bell said, and her mother laughed. “What’s a
torrob? What do you do when you enter an outpost? Do you even know
how to haggle?”
“Uh... No idea, no, and I’ll admit, not a great haggler. Just give me
your best price,” I said with my winning smile that fell flat.
“The sex was legendary, at least,” Nim said with a snicker while
Bell fake vomited. “Did you say bye to your father?”
“Yes, he was wondering why you didn’t come home last night,”
Bell said, deadpanning her mother and then glaring at me with disdain.
“Caitlyn the Deviant,” I said lulling my head back, piecing it
together. “I’m screwed.”
“Ha, I’d say so,” Nim teased.
Bell shook her head at her mother.
“Alright, I fulfilled my end of the bargain. I even used your
resources to purchase everything. Not like it matters. Don’t stick your Z in a
bank that will lock you out for what you are. Silly man, you need Bell, so
listen to her. Two mares and a wagon are waiting for you by the gate,” Nim
said with a sigh. “It cost eighteen Z, and that was with my rate. You won’t
get much of a pick.”
“Wait, how much was the miscee?” I asked.
“Half a gold, and we only got one. Now, let’s go,” Bell said with a
scour. “That’s not the problem. You’ll see, but we need to hurry.”
I went into the elevator first. Bell crammed in beside me. “Good
luck, Bell. I wish I was you, and I’ll try not to resent you for being chosen.”
Bell grumbled until I slid the door closed. The young woman
sighed when she rested her bag on top of mine. She was probably only five
foot four and a hundred and twenty pounds. Based on the added weight, her
laden bag would be too much for a long trip.
“Awkward…” I said, and she scoffed. I felt I needed to explain
myself and knew I might very well be sticking my foot in my mouth. “Hey,
I didn’t know she was married. I even asked, and she told me to shut up or
I’d get gagged.”
I cranked the wheel down.
“Pa sticks his head in the sand. She runs their marriage and ruins it
however she sees fit. I’m sure if she flaunted that she screwed a different
man in front of him, he would just leave to go fishing. Great guy,” she
muttered sadly.
The rest of the ride was in silence, and when the elevator door
opened, I followed her out of the kitchen then out of the building.
I slung my bag onto my back. Bell needed help with hers. After a
few stumbling steps, we got the heavy bag situated.
“So, you don’t have to come,” I said.
She scrunched her face and glared at me. For a second, I thought
she was about to unleash claws and attack me.
“I’m a chosen of Caitlyn. That may mean nothing to her champion
from another world, but it means everything to me. I’ll let your jab at my
duty slide this time. You need to be wary of judging my faith,” she warned.
Her hazel eyes glowed with malice in the moonlight, and I nodded.
“I feel bad, that’s all. I didn’t know,” I said.
She nodded and replied, “You’re an idiot. Clearly. Hence, why I’m
here and why I know you were deceived and why I knew mother would
play you for the fool. With luck, we can change that and prove Caitlyn
right. My hopes aren’t too high, though.”
Bell turned, picking up the pace to leave the alley and not saying
anything else.
Life seemed to keep me busy. Knowing I might end up fighting on
our way out, I quickly went into my stats and upgraded everything I could.
Charisma drained my entire Zorta stash because it went from 1 to 10. The
rest of the upgrades were minimal and cheap. I sighed, not loving how
much Zorta I would need.
My body didn’t change, but the intense struggle to even carry the
bag lessened. I inspected my stats, following her footsteps along the
cobbled road.
Name: Damien Moonguard
Race: Human
Affiliation: Nordan
Zorta: .073
Nordan Score: 100
Ostriva Score: 0
Location: Tarb
Magic Type: Healer
Healer Level: 2
Magic Type 2: Necromancy
Necromancy Level: 0
Fighting Level: Pathetic
Mana: 14
Mana Recharge: 2
Strength: 3
Stamina: 2
Dexterity: 2
Constitution: 2
Willpower: 3
Cultivation: 2
Intelligence: 25
Wisdom: 25
Charisma: 10
Tracking: 2
Endurance: 3
Perception: 5
Burst: 1
Reflex: 1
Healing: 2
Melee Combat: 1
Aim: 1
Hunger: 0
Thirst: 0
Aging: 47 years until death.
I realized I’d fallen slightly behind Bell, trotting for a brief bit to
catch up. If the heavy bag was too much, she surely powered through the
struggle.
“Do you know what the book seller said to me?” she huffed,
avoiding a pile of horse shit. The nice estates changed to apartments and
traffic increased.
Instead of answering, I watched the bright orange morning light
crest the horizon and beat the dark away. After spending years avoiding the
sunrise to sleep in, I realized I missed it a lot.
The morning glow of flowers on balconies and the quiet pace of the
road welcomed us. Men and women left their homes to start the day, saying
‘I love you’ before getting on a horse or walking to their destination.
When she didn’t reply, I caved and asked, “What did the
bookkeeper say?”
Her snooty tone barely reached my ears. “The vicissitudes of life
tend to weigh heavy on one’s soul. These tomes you’re buying are vile. Do
not return to my store,” Bell said with animated head flops to mimic the
bookkeeper. “She’s the bitch selling them, and you, you need to explain
what the hell is going on because I don’t even know what
vetsicularsmishsabudes means.”
I tried to contain my laugh, managing to only let a snicker escape.
“Vicissitudes means a change of circumstance of fortune, typically
one that is unpleasant. You must have given it away you were going
somewhere and pissed off about it. She summed you up in a word,” I said
with a grin. “Impressive.”
“Ugh, you’re the worst,” she said, again picking up the pace until
she almost skipped.
I held in my retort, seeing distant clouds to the south rumbling and
ruining my hope of another gorgeous early summer day.
This got me thinking. This planet was tied to Earth and yet held
more land than water.
Will the seasons be the same? The weather sure feels like
California so far with the dry heat.
As if I let my thoughts wander too far, the threat of rain increased
with a moist wind.
Bell turned off the main road with the town’s exit already in sight.
Additional wagons creaked, making their way out of the city for the day.
Horses neighed from a patrol of mounted archers in their fine livery.
The mounts clapped hooves in annoyance at the slow parting of the
outbound traffic. I watched them in awe and then remembered I had an aim
score.
Could a necromancer even be an archer? I would “Hey shit stain, this is Benny. Benny is our problem,” Bell said,
nudging an intoxicated miscee with her foot. I bent down in confusion, not
smelling booze on him. “Right, I have to tell you everything. Sugar. Plain
old sugar does this to them. Benny’s got a problem. Hence why he was
cheap. Out in the woods he’ll sober up. Or we sacrifice him to the goddess
and you get a minion.”
I commented, “Dark.”
“Yeah, I’m a bit sour at the moment. Plus, he’s not worth much Z
and killin’ him earns you Ostriva points,” Bell said with a shrug.
I shook my head in dismay. “Is this where we get our ride?” I
asked, pointing to a side door that held a closed sign in the window.
She nodded.
I avoided the miscee who muttered gibberish and stepped inside.
A sharp-nosed man that could have been a spokesman for a
lobbying group stood behind a counter with an open ledger. He wore an
expensive tunic and only glanced up for a brief moment.
“We’re not open yet,” he said, and I didn’t budge. “Nim?” he asked,
and I nodded. “Alright, you got limited options. Follow me.”
I left the small room with a few chairs to head into an expansive
barn.
The floor mixed straw with dung, the crew not caring to constantly
clean the animal barn. The heavy scent of animals overwhelmed my smell.
After a few paces, we stopped at a pen on the right. Three mares drank
greedily from a long trough.
“Pick two,” he said impatiently. I pointed at the biggest two. “Not
bad. Zeek! Gather the two biggest from Charlie pen.”
We walked by a dozen pens while a ten year old rushed by us to get
to my mares.
“A go getter,” I said in a positive way.
“Sister’s son. I got daughters who just want to be a horse’s friend.
They get all mad when I sell ‘em. But, Zeek, yeah, good kid,” he said with a
hint of pride in his voice.
We left the stable for a second barn. Carts, wagons, and carriages
rested in rows. The organization of this barn looked meticulously neat.
Two men sitting on ale barrels hopped off, likely not expecting to
see their boss in the barn this early.
“Go help Zeek,” he ordered, and the men jolted to help instantly.
We walked to a small carriage by a medium wagon. “The carriage is basic,
small and only meant for two. It has a proper bed and will suit a lady’s
needs. The wagon will let the rain in if you don’t tie the hide tight, but it’ll
keep the water out with more space but less luxury.”
“Wagon,” I said quickly.
He leaned over his shoulder. “Perfect. Horses on the Treen wagon.
Tell Nim we’re even and never come into my shop before we open again,”
he said in a sour tone.
I didn’t argue with the man, instead tossing my bag into the back of
the wagon. While the others hooked up the mares, I worked on closing off
the boxy bed.
I stole glances at the mares. Their fawn coloration mixed with large
white spots. I knew nothing of horses and yet these appeared healthy. Not a
Sprinkles, though. Sprinkles would always be special to me.
“You ready?” Zeek asked.
“Yes, I need to grab two people on the side road. Can I use that
door?” I asked.
One of the men nodded and ran to pry open a creaking door.
I hopped into the driver’s bench and tipped my head in respect to
Zeek and the men. I lightly snapped the reins but nothing happened.
“These girls were cheap for a reason,” Zeek said. “Hit em harder.”
I whipped the reins, and we started with a slow walk. I didn’t steer
them, but they figured to go out the door. Luckily, they turned right, and I
saw Bell standing over the miscee’s crumpled form.
Bell approached the mares who slowed for her.
Interesting. Maybe they sense she’s a kind soul or something. I
wonder if she was serious about sacrificing the miscree...
She handed me her bag, and I chucked it in the wagon bed. A
moment later, she hefted Benny with a mighty heave. I pulled him from her
grasp then tossed him into the back. He rolled to rest by my bag, not caring
in the slightest.
Sugar had sure done a number on him. Weird.
Bell said, “Get in there, please, and draw the curtain tight. It's
gonna rain soon.”
I heeded her words and went to work.
“When we get out of the town, we’ll have a discussion about what
happens next,” Bell said.
Instead of arguing with her, I pushed the flap aside for the plain
wooden bed with no comforts. The wagon rocked slightly when Bell sat on
the driver’s bench.
I only made it halfway down the lacing when we started to roll.
Bell hummed a tune in irritation. I rested against the low wooden wall of
the bed frame, working on getting my pillow and blanket out to get comfy.
I had to wonder why Caitlyn wanted me out of the city so badly.
CHAPTER 10
Outside of Tarb
I read in the back of the wagon as heavy rain slammed into the
canopy, faintly irritating me.
I raised my voice and said, “A dusk settled over the gloomy day
and thunder cracked in the distance. The villainous necromancer had
invested millions of Zorta to raise his mighty army, becoming a god of his
kingdom.
“When the great Emperor Norbok rallied his banners, the ground
quaked from the unified steps. I stood among those who ruled the
necromancer a threat so great that all must face him. Behind our unified
lines, the rabble amassed; peasants not accustomed to battle and yet sturdy
in their determination.
“What choice did they have? Lord Harvish, the dark elf, was a
defiler, a purveyor of the dead. And every one of our citizens were a tool to
add to his army. After the great mists vanished, monsters like this
necromancer knocked upon our doors. And on this day, humans stood as
one.
“None wavered and when the undead charged with their mighty
war cries, I feared our resolute spirit might break. The undead crashed
against stoic lines that failed to yield. Their horrific shrieks were countered
by a rising song of the maiden.
“A soft voice of life lifted the spirits of the amassed humans.
Emperor Norbok himself rode atop his fierce griffin and soared down to the
front lines. His elite guards crashed down among them and the flying
cavalry almost broke the enemy’s formation.
“When dead humans stirred their brethren lopped off their heads.
Healers resurrected trying to outpace the necromancers’ ability to claim the
dead, and so the conflict raged on multiple fronts.
“The battle was not a battle, it was a war for the very survival of the
realm. Lord Harvish feared his forces would break and tried to plug his
faltering lines. A fact not many knew was that his scouts had broken during
an engagement.
“The Emperor knew the minion army of undead would falter, and
the front lives bent from the sheer will of humankind. As if a gift from the
heavens, the maiden who sang unveiled herself. Walking atop the shoulders
of her shield maidens was the Empresses herself. Her tune swapped from
somber to celebration.
“The song of birth belted from her magical lung and the army
surged. All knew the song, it was silly in its phrases and simplicity. The
exact thing you wouldn’t expect to hear during death and yet, our troops
bellowed out the words.
“I wept while I recorded what I saw. My heart overflowed with
pride when the singing unified mankind and the untrained surged forward.
The undead lines broke, and Lord Harvish signaled his reserves to slow the
growing rout.
“Undead golems and even a massive cyclops lumbered out of the
treeline with units of dark elf archers. The undead lord had found an ally in
his kin. Unfortunately for Lord Harvish, he failed to deliver his promise - an
army of slaves and a successful campaign.
“The dark elf ambassador lopped his head off, and in an instant, the
undead returned to their resting places. The humans cheered when the army
they fought collapsed.
“A hundred dark elves fought over Lord Harvish’s Zorta. Those
who wanted to live erected ice walls to slow the humans. Emperor Norbook
halted his main army, sent out harassing troops, then went home to
celebrate a new birth of his empire. The message was clear; human lands
were not to be defiled.
“And so ended the greatest threat of the Islagarn Empire. The
rumor was that Lord Harvish fed all his power to the undead minions and
when both groups died, his orb held millions of Zorta. For the next decade,
mercenaries and adventurers sought the night elf treasure of Harvish. As for
the rest of us, we heralded our heroes, and the great age of the gods began.”
I closed the book, sitting across from Bell. This story came from a
faraway land and was predicated on happening right after the mists
dissolved.
It scared the ever living shit out of me. I knew I had been sent to
exploit this planet, but it sure felt like those who soared high would quickly
face an impending doom. Plus, I couldn’t be a good guy or a bad guy.
“Never heard that one,” Bell said, digging at dirt under her nails.
I glanced down at Benny who trembled with sweats. My attempts
to heal him were moot. We simply had to let the process work itself out.
The wagon went over a bump, and my ass complained from the
hard impact.
“So, you sure we’re okay with the horses not being driven?” I
asked, thumbing the front of the wagon. A trickle of water seeped into the
wagon bed, falling down slats.
“Yeah, they won’t mind the rain, and we just need to get far from
Tarb. That way we can start to build our empire. Are you ready for all that I
know?” she asked.
I nodded and kindly said, “Please and thank you.”
I pondered why some of her accent suddenly went missing. Maybe
because she was serious and not in the bar setting, or maybe she had been a
plant by Caitlyn all along to be seen as weak and in need of help.
“My mother ordered me to storm off to my room as if I had been
scorned for the last time. To be fair, I was. The cute boy who healed my arm
called me a whore, and my mother got to speak to the god I introduced her
to,” Bell said, digging into her bag.
She extracted a book, and I barely missed reading the spine. Bell
placed the small airport sized book in her lap, sticking two hands on top of
it and straightening her back.
“I’m going to tell you how I met a god. You will listen and then you
will share your story. Just like you will heed my warning and obey my
commands to help keep you alive. Do you accept?” she offered.
I wanted to scowl at her uppity tone or scoff at the fact I didn’t
enjoy the way she stared down her nose at me. I had no idea where my
burning anger was coming from. Maybe a boiling point from all the events
reaching a crescendo.
She twirled her hair habitually then swirled it - exactly how Caitlyn
did.
“What did the crow feathers mean?” I asked, testing her.
“I -?” she raised the book to her ear, as if it spoke to her.
I read the spine while she acted oddly.
The Guide to the Thousand Gods of the Six Realms - Volume 1.
“Caitlyn said, ‘It’s expensive to project. You owe her temple a
hundred Zorta in donations. The feathers were from Nordan. She stole the
hair twirling from me, finding it coy. I’m your guide, huckleberry,’
whatever that means,” Bell said in a flippant way.
I bit my lip, holding back the emotions that desperately wanted to
surge forward. My father called me his huckleberry. How the goddess had
found out, I had no clue, but the message came across loud and clear. Bell
was an agent of Caitlyn who happened to be stuck with me … and I had
screwed her mom.
Shit.
“It means I owe the goddess a temple because I need my Zorta.
Sorry, my Z. I agree to your terms,” I said, holding up a finger. “There’s a
caveat. You can command me if it will save my life or helps us in our
situations, but I’m not your personal foot massager. We have Benny for
menial labor,” I said.
“Ha, no, I’m not in charge other than to keep you alive. I’m a
stinking water mage. Without a freeze mage, I’m a lump on a log,” she said
with a grunt. “I’m glad you accept, and I eagerly await your story.”
I shrugged. “Mine’s short. I can go first,” I offered with a soft tone.
“Look, you're handsome. I get it. I really do. But quit being a
dumbshit,” she said in a condescending tone. “That probably worked great
for you in your old home, but being sweet and sly here will get a dagger in
your back. If someone offers to go first, you let them.”
“Ah, yeah, I do use that trick to help smooth someone into comfort.
They hesitate, you go first, and they see you open up. It tends to work for
small talk that leads to other things sometimes. I get it. Being a male
temptress in Nordan is not ideal,” I said.
“Exactly. You should have chest hair, a dick that goes to your
knees, a pinky finger that can kill, and you should beat your chest when
challenged,” she said sternly.
I chuckled as she attacked her breasts with her fists. “I’ve never
been the alpha type. Give me some time to work on these… changes,” I
said with a grumble.
The mares pulled to the side of the road, and Bell checked out
front.
“They’re happy, just found a dry spot for a spell,” she said.
She switched gears, letting out a calming sigh. Her eyes displayed a
sudden sadness.
“I’m the youngest of six, and my father is not my Pa. I have no idea
who my biological father is, and I grew up looking different than my
siblings. We were spaced out far enough the eldest never cared, but the
others did, and it sucked.
“I grew up a pariah in my own home. I only know that word
because one of my teachers felt bad for me and called me it. Anyway, I
started growing into a woman. I realize Pa is a lazy carefree fisherman,
Mom runs a whorehouse, and we don’t know who my father is for real. I
cornered her for answers which led to a big fight… All of which was a
waste of time.”
I could see the visible frustration on her face. She twirled her
shoulder length brown hair and then bound it into a ponytail with a bit of
ribbon from her bust. Bell had removed the poncho from earlier, and her
button-down long sleeve shirt seems a size too small. Well, too small in the
chest because those buttons appeared ready to pop.
She glared at me when I snickered, not amused in the slightest. She
continued, though. “In Nordan, we do school until fourteen unless we’re
home schooled. Most leave early to work jobs to help pay down family
debts. A few head off to start training for war or adventuring. At fifteen, we
figure out what magic we have. I woke that morning to our family
celebration to learn I was a water mage.
“No one cheered. Water mage is the most common mage and
requires a combo to do anything. Drowning people is exceedingly hard, and
my mana is limited. I can summon a water golem, but it sucks. It literally
bursts apart if hit or it hits anything. Sure, if I level it to some stupid high
number the exterior toughens, but no one ever does. What I can do is work
with a lightning or a freeze mage. Outside of the duo, there’s ten thousand
of me in Tarb looking for work.
“The water mage is born to be a cleaner and help humanity survive.
I pull clean water from the air for cooking, showering, rising dirty floors, or
putting out fires. Work is steady but pays next to nothing for mana
consumed.
“At fifteen, I needed real work. Pa took me to the rivers. I could
bring up fish at a certain depth. Of course, so can every other human with
water magic, so the big fish stay in the deeps. We managed for a year by
taking longer and longer trips away from cities. He really wanted me to
avoid other types of work and told me I’d find a nice man or a good job in
accounting or something. I listened politely, his intentions in the right place.
He just wanted anything but me becoming a whore as you call it.
“Not that I’d be an earner there anyway. I had no tits, straight hips,
and my father was ugly. Boys never glanced at me or gave me a second
look. And with magic reducing age, the pretty working girls never retired,”
she said with a sigh.
I used her pause to peek out the front of the wagon.
“I find that odd,” I said.
“Which part?”
The mares rested under a nice canopy as the rain still hammered
down. They seemed content, but I continued to watch.
“Your father was handsome. I instantly thought you were pretty.
Also, you have boobs, and your mother has boobs. Most women take after
their mother,” I said and she frowned. “She is your mother?”
She slugged my arm, and I instinctively said, “Ouch.”
The shot to my bicep didn’t hurt much, though.
“Of course, that’s what you’d ask, but yeah, good. As much as it
hurts my pride, that’s not what this is about. You were assertive and
mentioned something many other men notice. I have tits now. Same size as
my mother’s as of last night. Can you figure it out?” she asked.
I frowned until the ‘as of last night’ clicked. The only correlation to
this whole mess was Caitlyn.
“Caitlyn blessed you?” I asked.
She sighed in relief.
“At sixteen, I became an adult. A simple bracelet of yarn signifies
you’re not of age to those seeking affections. I’ll admit, I was eager to cut
mine off and have some bedroom adventures. I removed my bracelet,
letting the world know I was available for courting,” she said with a sad
sigh.
“Ah, it didn’t go as you intended?” I guessed.
“Yup, so if my looks were boyish and lacking a luring appeal, what
was a young lady to do? I didn’t want to be alone. I roamed the market,
trying to find beauty enhancements. There’s some potions to increase skin
radiance, or swell my breasts for a day. Nothing permanent and all
expensive.
“I did learn there is altering magic. For instance, a high priestess
generally is a divine mage. They could have changed my eye colors to
match Pa’s which I’d still want more than boobs and hips. Hazel eyes are
nice, but I want blues.
“So, I knew what I needed. A divine mage. There were no high
priestesses in Tarb and when I journeyed to Litroo, I was kindly let down.
Only so many mana in a day for a high priest or priestess. The only one
who altered looks helped rid children of a sixth toe for charity work.
Mostly, she charged lords and ladies to alter them and then used the Z to
donate to her goddess,” Bell said, peering up to see if I caught on.
“That’s how you found Caitlyn,” I muttered. “The divine mage with
altering spells was her high priestess.”
Bell said, “Only one high priestess per goddess is allowed at a time,
and they’re immortal like the rest of us. When you think about the size of
Nordan, her being in Litroo made the odds astronomical. And I’d never be
her because she would live forever with guards and healers.
“That didn’t dissuade me. I can be a right stubborn ass when I want
to be. During the month-long walk home, I studied a small pamphlet the
high priestess gifted me. That was almost ten years ago. How time flies.
“So, I returned to Tarb, staying in a small room with my parents. I
did dishes for the next two years, using my money to build a shrine to
Caitlyn. The stone sculptures were not cheap. When I finally finished her
image based on the drawing in the pamphlet, I started to change.
“My flat as a board chest grew into boobs over months. Mother
said I was finally becoming a woman, and I pushed those suckers up on
display. Well, my rough edges on my face molded to fine lines. That was
the point when we realized it wasn’t just me maturing.
“Mother built a shrine and then spread the word of Caitlyn the
Temptress to her working girls. When they started to see results, a church
was built, and my mother installed one of her girls as the priestess, not me.
“I was hurt, but moved on, sorta. Suddenly, I was noticed. I got
moved from dishes to the front reception. I even managed to only spread
my legs to those I wanted to, and I had suitors showering me with gifts. My
life changed forever the day I met that high priestess, and again when I
finished her idol, and yet again when I talked with Caitlyn last night.”
I gave her a minute to drink her water and said, “So, this isn’t you.
You’re a molded woman blessed by a god to encourage other women of
temptation to donate to Caitlyn.”
Her hazel eyes locked to mine, and her cheeks crimsoned. Her
anger abated with a few deep breaths, and she calmed.
“I’m different, yes. However, I’m not the priestess, and my mother
was given larger boobs than mine,” she said with a snide tone. “I didn’t
know my purpose. I guess taking the word from Litroo and establishing a
church all came from my devotion, but again, I wasn’t the priestess even if I
wanted to be. I wasn’t the woman tempting the flesh for a coin.
“I never wavered in my faith, and I always donated what I could,
which was very little. I even paid my money tithe instead of getting my arm
healed, something Caitlyn scolded me for.” She held up the book of the
gods.
“That’s a lot of gods,” I said. “On Earth we had a few types of
gods. The closest to this would be the Norse gods.”
“Could you transcribe those for me?” she asked nicely.
“You can use batting eyelashes and chin tucking smiles all you
want, but I can’t,” I said, and she merely converted her smile into a grin.
“Consider it on my to-do list.”
“Thanks. For Nordan, when the mists rose, the gods revealed
themselves in many unique ways. The list inside this book is long. The
verified gods are short, but as word spreads, the list is growing. Imagine my
surprise when I found out Caitlyn the Temptress used to be Caitlyn the
Deviant.
“When I returned home, after you said that, I did so in shock. Even
the high priestess from a decade ago said she didn’t talk to her god, merely
did her bidding. Caitlyn stepped into her idol and sat with me. She told me I
was to be her next high priestess since the current one was killed and her
Zorta consumed instantly with her attackers slaying her defenders.
“The words I’ve dreamed of for a decade, sweet music to my ears.
Except I had to prove myself. A god gets one champion and has to be
pulled from one of the other four planets to go to Nordan or Ostriva. Yeah,
that came as a shocker too. You could have been sent to the lowlands of
Ostriva if she had wanted.
“Her powerbase is here, though, and she tried to put you into Tarb
to find me. I take it someone recommended Tootsies?” she asked.
I mulled it over and blushed slightly. “The teller flirted with me to
go there.”
“A setup to get you to meet me, if I had to guess. Caitlyn had
limited time. She builds power naturally like we regenerate mana. Her
donations help too. You’re the sixth champion she has sent recently,” Bell
said.
I furled my brows in confusion. “And the others?”
“All dead. Either from quick betrayals or never arriving properly.
You somehow manage to arrive on Nordan and reach her agents, and hence
my mother’s reward last night and you earning my loyalty. To Caitlyn’s
cause,” she said, sticking a finger at my face. “Don’t get any ideas about
me, got it? I’m here to please my goddess, not you.”
“And the conversation with Caitlyn?”
Bell sighed, closing her eyes in frustration. “She’s not a goddess of
good. Technically, temptation is a gray area, and she justified her deviant as
not being good or bad, merely existing. Caitlyn does talk with her high
priestess, and the last one refused to leave her sanctum for fear of death. A
high priestess is worth a lot of Z.
“She wanted her champion to be helped, and honestly, I wonder if
she didn’t have her killed for refusing. She emphasized you were the best
way for her to grow in power to reward her followers. If you ascend, I get
to become a high priestess.
“Which means I’ll have divine magic, be revered, and one of the
most powerful mages in the realm in an instant. The bigger Caitlyn’s
following, the more power I’ll have. That was our deal,” she said. “Now I
want to hear your deal.”
“Wait, where are we going? What are we doing?” I asked in
surprise.
“I’ve been talking for a while, your turn,” she said.
“I get 10,000 Zorta. I’m guessing they’re unconsumed, and she
sends me home. My parents get revived, and I live on a beach reading
books about magic,” I said happily.
She tucked her lips in, biting them both in confusion. “As in take
you back to your home?”
“Yeah, Earth,” I said with an eager nod.
“That’s not… That sounds great. Tell me the entire interaction in
detail, twice, and I’ll stop being sour for a day. No promise on tomorrow,”
she said.
“That’s not what?” I asked.
She waved the book at me. “Every champion talks of ascending.
Just like you are now. You need to understand, you’re saying things that
completely make sense to me that shouldn’t. You give her 10,000 Zorta and
you ascend.”
“No, I go back to earth,” I countered.
“Ascend. You’re not saying ascend, are you?” she asked, and I
shook my head no. “This book talks of gods, their rules, and how they delve
into the fray for personal gain. I believe you’re a victim here, and I want to
keep you alive. So, do your best and say every little detail you can. Be
patient if I ask you to explain things in different ways.”
I spent the next half hour recalling everything to her twice,
including my time on Nordan. When I finished, she smiled tersely.
“There’s something wrong with the situation. While I’d like to get
to the bottom of what Caitlyn is up to, that’s not my prerogative at this
moment. I’m more concerned with keeping us both alive by integrating you
into Nordan. So, let's focus on that. Being a necromancer comes with
issues. You know that, right?” she asked, and I nodded. “You… We’ll be
banned from humanity because you will gain Ostriva points and be scorned
by strivians for being human.”
“So, is Caitlyn wanting to start a neutral city with just the two of
us? Sounds dumb,” I said. “Do neutral cities even exist? You’d think both
sides would raze them.”
“Caitlyn was furious you got necromancy. You were supposed to
get an offensive spell that didn’t penalize you. So, look, you won’t want to
hear this, but you would have been replaced if it were easy. Simply to get a
new champion with a better secondary magic.
“Necromancy does happen in humans. It just is a magic type like
butterfly tamer. Yeah, that’s a magic class. It’s odd, exceedingly rare, and
ultimately useless unless you find a way to make it work.
“In the case of Necromancers, they generally set up outposts in
strivian territory. Which, we’ll either need to find one to join -”
I finished her sentence and said, “Or build our own. I have no
money. Sorry, Z. I have no one to trade for me. How is this ever supposed to
work? Also, what’s the point if I don’t ascend? Do all the champions die?”
“I don’t know. Caitlyn mentioned you wouldn’t understand Nordan
that well. In this case, King Karn’s Kingdom is really small. There is
infinite space out there. She said to think about walking Lost Angels to
Tegas and the New Pork,” Bell said, butchering the words.
“Ah, I actually understood that. Yeah, I think Cali to Canada is a
five month walk, but there’s griffins according to this book,” I said.
“And dragons,” she added. “They’re all controlled by the most
powerful human areas. We have no major port, and rarely do flying
creatures venture to our corner of Nordan. That’s something even I have no
answer on, unfortunately. The point is that you and I are not tied to this area
and there is a massive amount of land to decide to call home,” she said.
“Which I’m guessing leads to what Caitlyn recommended?” I
asked.
Bell nodded, releasing her hair from the binding. After a few swirls,
she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Your arrival sent a signal
to the other gods. They’re all looking for you. Your Z payout is said to be
worth a hundred thousand, even at your low level.”
“Whoa! A hundred thousand? No wonder Caitlyn wanted me out
of Tarb,” I exclaimed.
“Yup. I’d contemplate killing you myself if the reward of keeping
you alive wasn’t so big. We need to flee with me guiding you. I’m a young
barmaid with no experience out there. To where, even I don’t know, and for
now, until we leave human lands - no claiming the dead. You need Z to
claim corpses anyway.”
“So, Z is the goal. Get Z, head into the strivian lands, and try to
find another realm we can trade with?” I asked.
“There’s a river in the north. The north is quiet because of the
mountains. I say we go there, ride west, and then take the river to new lands
that I’d have to look up to identify,” she said, patting her bag.
“Uh… Yeah, I mean, we won't get any Z around here, will we?” I
asked.
“Good. You noticed all the soldiers?” she asked, and I nodded.
“The Duke sends troops out on the regular. Even killing a deer rewards the
hunter, so farming has become extra critical. A tordee,” she paused when I
raised a hand. “A tordee is an animal that quacks and is this big.” Her arms
spread to the size of a swan. “A domesticated version gives Z rewards but
far less than a wild one.”
“Okay, so we need Z, which we have to kill animals or strivians to
gain. But we have a healer, a water mage, and a miscee,” I said with a
groan.
“Yup, Caitlyn said we’re starting on hard mode.”
She wasn’t kidding.
CHAPTER 11
Foothills of the Targee Mountains
“Uh… Bell,” I said, hesitating to tell her the bad news.
While I waited for her to arrive at the back of the wagon, I thought
over what had led to this point.
Four days after our long talk, we rode hard for the mountains. After
the rain, I bought bows at an outpost with our dwindling funds.
Occasionally, we tried to hunt a few times. Not only did we not find any
prey, I realized why my aim score was a one.
I struggled to even hit a tree from twenty yards. I quickly learned
that no one ventured north for battle because the strivian hordes never
spawned up in the mountains.
Even after the mist evaporated, these lands stayed quiet with a
sparse population.
I had to imagine this trip would be like Northern Canada. You
could walk days without seeing anything the further you got from
civilization.
Each day we encountered fewer farms, and this morning we left the
last outpost on the map. We had paused at a creek to find a ford and I went
to give Benny his water.
I swore he had turned a corner, kept asking for a Smela gal. Had no
idea who she was, but I was happy to see him recovering, and now this.
We had been driving for hours, so I figured he was sleeping again. I
glanced down, seeing his chest wasn’t rising and falling. A colorful orb
hovered over his body.
“Alright, I guess I can revive him,” I said.
Bell arrived at my side with bow in hand. She had to pee and was at
least a lady about it by finding a private spot. I grabbed Benny, pulling him
out of the wagon.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
I snickered and said, “I kinda explode when this happens. I’m not a
master mage.”
“Oh, right. I’ll wait to boil some water then,” she said, heading to
the shore to collect some sticks.
“If you can get any fish -” I started to say.
“I’ll try,” she replied before I could finish. “We’re not too far from
Tafo Outpost, so this area is likely heavily fished.”
“Is this the river you’re wanting to use?” I asked.
“Uh, no. This one goes south, according to the map. Three more
days west there’s a river we’ll use,” she said.
I laid Benny down, not really understanding what plagued him.
Drugs were never a vice of mine. I had tried weed, and it was okay. I never
went beyond that.
Sugar had ruined this miscee’s life, and I felt terrible about it.
Really was sad to see him frozen in death. He must have passed only a few
hours ago because his body was still warm.
The unique things I had to learn on Nordan amused me.
Feeling ready to revive him, I hoped to get level 3 as a healer from
this.
My hands splayed out, coaxing his orb to come to me. The slightest
of tugs released his Zorta spirit. The cultivation was beyond easy.
When I received the prompt, I frowned in confusion.
Claim or Consume Zorta?
“The hell? Where's the resurrect option?” I muttered. I glanced over
to see Bell had dipped below my line of sight, going to the shoreline. I
raised my voice. “Hey Bell, I can’t resurrect him.”
“Yeah, when he dies, he’s given an option to deny resurrections. He
wants to stay dead,” she shouted back.
Interesting. People wanting to suicide could do so freely.
I didn’t say anything back and selected claim.
The body has no Ostriva points and is therefore ineligible to
become a minion.
I grunted, not happy. Why give me the option then? The only thing
I could deduce was the system wanted to tell me this existed. If I was a pure
soul, the undead could not bring me back to life.
I guess that ruled out killing a bunch of priests to become my
minions.
I selected to consume his Zorta.
Zorta: 1.33 - Consume (Yes) - (No) - (Drop)
He was worth about the same as a ratkin. I selected no, seeing his
orb materialize in a golden light then drop down to his body.
I picked the Zorta up and stuffed it in my coin purse. Scanning the
area, I saw nowhere to bury him. The sloping terrain consisted of large gray
moss covered rocks atop plenty of gritty pebbles. Sporadic trees clung to
life and thinned the higher up the mountain I looked.
“I guess we’ll build a big lunch fire and burn you after. Sorry for
your troubles, Benny,” I said, leaving the corpse for later.
I shuddered, finding myself perturbed by how easily I had accepted
his death. I never knew him, had barely said a few words to him, and then
he was gone. Deep down, yeah, I was a smidge sad I couldn’t turn him into
a minion.
“Eek!” Bell cried out, and I rushed to the riverside, flinging gravel
as I sprinted.
I arrived at the crest point to see an alien looking catfish with three
barbs waddling on the shore. Instead of rushing to get back in the water,
tiny feet allowed the amphibian to slowly chase after Bell. I grabbed the hilt
of my sword and tugged to free it of my sheath.
The blade didn’t come free like in the movies or books. The damn
thing stuck in the sheath, and the harder I pulled, the more stubborn the
sword became.
I paused, inhaled a deep breath, and calmly extracted the weapon.
“Stab it!” Bell shouted, running by me.
A second creature slithered from the shoreline, eager to see if it was
feasting time.
The first amphibian chomped at Bell’s heels in a truly frightening
lunge. I cringed at the sight of black jagged teeth filling the mouth of the
beast snapping inches from her calf. That was their power, the jump.
This wasn’t a simple catfish. Oh, no. It was a freshwater shark with
feet.
My hesitation pulled the creature away from chasing Bell and
caused it to rush for me.
With a hasty overhead chop, I swung with all my strength.
Thankfully, the dumb creature waddled right into the path of the blade and
my sword caved the soft skull with a smush sound.
Black skin parted, and the semi sharp blade sent bits of gore flying.
“There’s another,” Bell said, leaving me alone on the shoreline.
“Where are you going?” I asked, squaring up to the second beast.
This one hesitated, as if Two more dripped water down their dark slimy sides as they
breached the water. I started to get concerned when a massive landshark
joined the trio.
An arrow zipped over my shoulder, missing the four targets out in
the open.
“Dammit, I hate this weapon. Stall them,” she said, channeling a
spell for the orb.
I rotated, placing myself between the four beasts and Bell.
“What are they?”
“Lacrva,” Bell said. “They’re natural predators that have to migrate
river ways because they’re so aggressive. Pa lost a fishing buddy to a pack
who snuck up on him from the land side. He always warned me of them.
Never seen -”
She paused as five more joined the first four. The orb over the dead
one vanished, and Bell cried out, “To the horses.”
“But Benny,” I shouted, turning to run.
“Benny’s dead. It’s not going to matter what happens to him,” she
shouted, jumping onto the wagon.
I glanced over my shoulder, seeing the nine landsharks cresting the
slope that led down to the river.
I reached the wagon and said, “The horses are faster. We should
shoot and string them out.”
“Uh, yeah, I’m overreacting with fright. I’m not used to combat
like you are,” she said.
I went to argue that I was a noob too but grabbed my bow instead. I
set the sword down and attempted to nock an arrow.
With an uneven tug, I jerked the bow back, struggling to even draw
the damn thing. The nine targets hesitated, and I released.
Twang!
My arrow raced forward, fell short, skipped off a rock, and buried
into the neck of a smaller landshark.
It squealed in pain, enraging the pack.
Twang!
Bell fired, driving an arrow into the spine of the wounded
landshark.
“I hit it!” she exclaimed with pride.
The squeals ended and the grunts rang loud.
The mares didn’t panic, but they turned to get distance. I walked
through the wagon bed to the back, setting my arrows down.
Bell managed to get the mares to stop when the pack hesitated to
chase us further.
While the alpha questioned his surroundings, I launched three
arrows in a row, none getting lucky but all coming close. The alpha struck
his head into the air, smelling Benny’s body.
I tossed down the bow in frustration, grabbing my sword from the
front. The pack shifted for Benny as Bell secured the horses to a nearby
tree.
I ran for Benny’s body. The landsharks ignored me, not caring,
probably because I represented a minimal threat and Benny was free food.
The alpha clamped onto the dead miscee’s leg, and a moment later,
the pack helped drag his body for the water across the rocky terrain.
“What’s the plan?” Bell asked.
I regretted putting myself in charge.
“Get close, wound one, and I’ll kill it,” I said.
She didn’t argue, rushing toward a lagging medium sized
landshark. Her smaller bow drew smoothly, and she released from on a few
paces away.
Thwack.
The arrow drove into the midsection, causing the beast to crash.
When the landshark rolled down the hill slightly, I knew it was dead.
She pulled out another arrow as I closed in on Bell’s side, ready to
defend her.
When her arrow reached her ear, the landsharks spun with loud
hissing.
Twang!
The arrow zipped forward.
Thunk!
The arrow embedded into the alpha. It unleashed a furious roar.
I expected a charge or an intense fight. Instead, it dragged Benny
quicker, and two of the minions peeled off the pack to attack us.
I braced myself with knees bent and awaited the faster of the two.
Bell fumbled and dropped an arrow. When she failed to snatch the shaft off
the ground twice, I shouted, “Back up and leave it.”
The further of the two turned and retreated, leaving the sacrificial
minion and me to have a one on one.
I used my same overhead chop, but it dodged with an odd roll. The
slimy body corrected itself with loose dirt covering the beast’s skin.
I swiped sideways at the right level.
The damn creature hopped back with surprising dexterity, and my
blade slid through air. By this point, Benny and the pack had started to
descend into the water.
I’d never save his body, and it riled me into a fury.
I thrust the tip of my blade at the mouth of the final landshark.
Black teeth snapped down on the blade, and a loud crack erupted from the
bite.
With a hard push, I drove the blade deep into the beast until it tried
to retreat.
A hacking cough from the creature resulted in jets of black blood
spraying the gray gravely terrain.
As it stumbled in death, I yanked the blade free.
My run to try to free Benny of a gruesome finality failed. I watched
his hand sink below the surface with a bubbling disturbance.
Bell jogged to catch up to me and said, “They’re gone. Phew, good
job. We each killed two.”
Her positivity felt flat, and I groaned in disappointment.
I stood there for a few minutes, hoping they would return his body.
Bell shifted to yank the first dead fish away from the shore.
“It's only a few hours back to Tafo Outpost. These bodies are great
for farmin’ and store well if a curing mage gets to them in time. If not, best
to just collect the Z and move on minus what we eat for lunch,” she said.
“I - I - I wanted to bury or burn him,” I grumbled.
“Understood, but we both need you focused. He’s dead. His body is
food for the next generation of the pack, and we get to eat. A dozen gold to
lose a half day or press on. We certainly could use more rope, get you a new
sword, and additional preserved food,” she said.
I didn’t like the idea of backtracking, but honestly, her idea kind of
made sense.
“I take it we won’t be able to buy Z?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Normally, outposts are rich in supplies and Z while
low on crafted goods. It certainly wouldn’t hurt to ask, but we need coins,
not Z, after getting these kills.”
I walked to one of the three bodies with orbs floating over them.
Before I hovered my hands, I asked, “How do we split loot of these
landsharks? Don’t want you to get more upset with me.”
“Um… our success rests on you becoming powerful. When I
intended to run, I absorbed the first lacrva or landshark, in a panic. The .429
Z is waiting for me to upgrade my core stats. For instance, I’m up to a three
with aim.”
“Well, I didn’t have a chance to tell you, but I have Benny’s orb. A
full Z plus,” I said.
“Poor Benny,” she said, finally showing remorse. “Ingest those
three, please. I wouldn’t claim them if we’re going back to the outpost to
sell the bodies.”
“Kinda surprised they’re three gold per,” I muttered.
She didn’t answer, heading back to the wagon. While she drew the
loading bed closer, I harvested the first orb.
Claim or Consume Zorta
Zorta: .47 - Consume (Yes) - (No) - (Drop)
I ingested the first one, not wanting a dead fish minion, especially
since we were going back to humanity. A moment later, I stood over the
next body. “Do me a favor and take the other for one. Stick the orb in your
purse, just in case,” I said. “If I get robbed or whatever, it’s best to have
split finances.”
The mares trotted over, and I eyed them sadly.
“It’s going to take a while to build a barge big enough to use the
wagon down river,” I said.
“Few things. We need the wagon. It's our home for now. I have
some actual experience with making a wagon float. Pa used to like to fish
down the river, taking us a few days away.
“Yeah, build a barge, which yeah, is tedious but not impossible. I
can use water magic to loosen the soil, and the mares can yank the trees out.
If we hire an earth mage or fire mage, even better,” Bell said.
I grunted, not sure what to say.
“Once the barge is on the water, I can increase the buoyancy and
then we drift down the current. Getting back means we have to normally
ditch the barge and ride home. In our case, we simply just leave it and keep
going,” she said.
“I mean… does it really save us that much time and what about
waterfalls?” I asked.
She shrugged and said, “A day or two building, and we get a
guaranteed progress. But you’re right, I have no idea how the river bends,
narrows, or falls. The maps beyond a few leagues are all of old Nordan. The
terrain is all new.”
“We have time to think about it,” I said, returning to my task.
Using the cultivation spell, I summoned the orb into myself.
Claim or Consume Zorta - Yes
Zorta: 1.33 - Consume (Yes) - (No) - (Drop) - Yes
You have increased Burst, Reflex, Strength, Aim, Melee
Combat, and Dexterity. Are you ready to invest in upgrading these
stats? (YES) - (NO) - Yes
“Alright Bell, Tafo Outpost it is. I don’t care if the clerk says I
shouldn’t shoot a female bow. I want something I can draw and aim easily,”
I said.
“Really?” she blurted.
“Yeah, I don’t care if it takes away chest hair. I need to hit what I’m
aiming at,” I grumbled and cursed when I lifted a dead land shark for the
wagon bed.
“Not that, kinda surprised you’re willing to listen to me. I… We
need help, Damien,” she said despondently.
“You never say my name,” I said.
“Yes, well, I’m still not a fan of yours. However, we’re both adults.
We can act like it,” she said.
“Glad to see you turning a corner. Your mother seduced me, and I
never thought I’d see you again. If I could go back in time, well, I’d like to
think I maybe, just maybe, would have waited,” I said honestly.
She nodded. “Thanks for being direct. This doesn’t make us any
closer, but more civil. Thank you for saying you still might sleep with her,
Damien.”
“No problem, Priestess Bell,” I said, fetching the last body. “Now,
there were a lot of adventurers looking to party up, who will be dumb
enough to join us you think?”
“Ha, who knows? Hop on up,” Bell said, patting the seat beside
her.
I finished loading the wagon and secured the hitch. I did a last
sweep for loose arrows and then almost got to the bench.
“Stand right there,” Bell said, swirling blue magic. I groaned,
knowing what was coming. “Don’t be a baby.”
Water shot out of her hands, cleansing me of fish slime. A second
later, and she too dripped with water after drenching herself.
I hopped up onto the bench and said one final, silent goodbye to
Benny.
CHAPTER 12
Tafo Outpost
The trip back grew tiresome, but thankfully the warm breeze of the
sunny day dried us off fairly quickly.
I felt Bell and I had turned a corner in our odd partnership.
No two ways about it, I need help because Nordan is so alien.
A bright sky revealed circling birds over an outbuilding a mile or so
from Tafo Outpost. The outpost itself reminded me of Yew Wood in size but
with a different composition.
The walls were stone with empty parapets and guard towers. The
interior consisted of mostly wooded structures and a portcullis was raised as
the sparse population worked outside the walls.
Cleared trees around the outpost held farms, not unlike the cities,
except here you saw more barns for livestock. The smells were stronger, but
water mages did a decent job of turning the river’s blue water to brown
further downstream.
An odd cow variation grazed wild grass, and a herd of young elk
mingled in the same field. I’d only seen a few of those mounts so far, and I
decided one of them would be nice when we could.
The small river ran through the outpost, and even from a mile away,
I could hear clashing swords. I remembered the city center had a small
training arena.
I glanced that way, seeing the stacked three-story adventurer
buildings and taverns in the central part of town. Just because this was the
north didn’t mean people didn’t hunt. Clearly, we were able to find decent
loot ourselves just a few hours away.
This was a frontier town, and based on our first trip, it seemed like
a staging point for those too cautious to go to Litroo or those who wanted a
different experience.
Toosi, the mare on the left, caught my eye because the poor thing
hobbled slightly. I didn’t know horses, but Bell assured me she needed an
animal healer which I learned I was unable to do.
Her hobbling gait led me to digging into the rules on necromancy
since it was a longer trip back due to the horses' slowed pace.
All the books contained were theories. Lord Harvish was the best
accounting of a famous necromancer. The rest of the humans both failed to
record and tell their tales, or the specific book seller had nothing better.
Lord Harvish had no cavalry, telling me if I killed Toosi to ease her
pain and make her an immortal minion, well - she’d just die.
“You okay?” Bell asked.
“Yeah, just spiraling down a dark hole called my necromancer life.
Toosi wouldn’t need repairs if she were undead. Maybe we can get some
bears to pull us,” I said with a shrug.
She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “A lot of this is going to be
learning as we go. Are you ready for this?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” I asked.
“We blitzed through last time. This time, I’m going to pick up rope
and more supplies while you go to the Roast Merry. That’s the recruit and
hiring bar.
“The goal is to find some teammates desperate enough to go with a
water mage and a healer into the great unknown. Be honest, we’re traveling
to the next realm. It’s not unheard of for adventurers to make such claims,
earn good loot, and return home with riches.
“And honestly, your kind is desired out here. Everyone wants a
resurrection on standby; I’m the tag along for a major war band that is
rarely wanted. You saying you’re a healer will entice some fools. No
mentioning you’re into necro, you weirdo. I’ll sell the fish, the busted
sword, and you get us some new recruits,” she said with a tease.
“And a room… or do you want to head out tonight?” I asked.
“A nice bed helps with back pain. Separate rooms, though,” she
said with a finger wag. “If I get held up and you don’t like the bar, reserve
mine under Lady Caity.”
“Sure, I’ll worry, though,” I said.
“While I may not be a fighter. We get checked on our way into the
outpost. No one over a thousand Ostriva points gets in and over five
hundred normally means you sit at the gate while runners shop for you.
Based on your blank stare, you don’t know. A murder equals 1500 Ostriva
points minimum. So, in theory I’ll be fine. If anything, I owe myself a bit of
fun,” she said, glancing at me with a side eye.
I didn’t take the bait, eager to get inspected at the gate.
The guard happened to be the same one who let us in last night. He
noticed we were missing our miscee, and we told him the story. When he
checked our same zero Ostriva scores, he didn’t bother us again.
Bell kicked me out of the wagon when she neared a trading market,
and I grabbed my pack. I once again told her to be safe.
For some odd reason, I found myself drawn into feeling the need to
protect her. Me, the no commitment, never caring what problems others
have kind of guy had gone soft.
My whole life, the mantra was only a minor hand up, never a handout, and never getting involved in other people's problems.
Now, I was different. Clearly.
I shook my head, stepping off for the Roast Merry. I had six gold to
my name and a mission. The cobbled roads weren’t clean, and if I had to
guess that was to keep the muck on the road to fill the divots.
The buildings weren’t nearly as refined as in Tarb, but the upkeep
decent.
Clash!
A roaring applause and then laughter stretched through the town’s
center. A crowd dispersed, and I arrived at the Roast Merry before the
others could return to their drink.
The door creaked on hinges, opening into a well-lit barroom.
Directly in front of the entryway rest a bulletin board. Behind that sat
mostly tables with benches, and not a single chair besides on a corner stage.
Even the bar held a long bench.
I stepped up to the board, eyeing the quests. If you completed a
quest, you were to report to a gate guard.
Kill a deer. Just an ordinary deer. Five silver.
Slay a mountain tarbin. Eight gold.
Kill a lacrva alpha. Ten gold.
Capture wild game alive. Reward varied, noted as higher alive
than dead.
The general theme repeated itself. No solve a riddle, sing a tune,
say a passphrase from a mimic, or clear out ten rats in a basement.
Everything had to do with the local area, and the further you got, the more
the reward was. Like the mountain trolls paid a single Z for the body.
I had to wonder if there were alchemy properties to some of the
items because why would you pay for a troll body that already was missing
the Z.
Maybe it’s a tax redistribution by the King.
I shifted to check out the hiring adverts. If you wanted to be hired,
the sign said to go to the guilds, charters, mercenaries, and adventuring
companies recruiting offices near town center.
Healer needed. Level 10 minimum.
Fire mage needed. Level 20 minimum.
Earth mage needed. Level 10 minimum.
Lightning mage needed. Level 15 minimum.
Freezing mage needed. Level 15 minimum.
Illumination mage needed. Level 15 minimum.
Forest mage needed. Level 15 minimum.
Archer with aim of 20
Fighter with melee combat of 20
These were all for the same company; Tafo Adventuring Guild. No
one else was hiring. My guess was that they were paid by the king or the
duke to run this outpost and earnings were slim.
No necromancer or water mage.
I glanced over to the looking for work section. At least thirty
applicants had their names up. I tossed my hands on my hips when the
crowd from the arena returned into the bar.
A few eyed me, checking out the ‘hire me’ postings. It didn’t take a
rocket scientist to figure out why there were openings and a gaggle of folks
not being hired.
Those wanting work wanted gold up front and a contract. The
problem was they didn’t even come close to the requirements. Hell, Desra
could literally burn down a forest and was only a sixteen mage. A twenty
probably only existed in Litroo, telling me the guild here was full up and
the stragglers needed to flounder on their own.
I glanced at the list, not seeing anything on paper that would say,
hire me for next to nothing and when we learn you’re a necro mage we
won’t cut your heart out.
I left the board and walked to the bar. A young man and woman,
both about eighteen, sat at the bar, having arrived with the crowd. Ginger
twins, light freckles, and both easy on the eyes. I wasn’t bi in the slightest,
but I could call a man pretty or handsome.
They wore hand me down adventuring garb with staves tucked
against the bar.
They smiled painfully while the bartender slapped his fingers into
his palm, asking for coins.
“Come on, Donnie, we’re good for it,” the young lady said in a
pleading manner with her elbows on the bar.
“Tarla, I dun told ya, stick yer name on the board. Yer only going to
go out so many times and strike out before the mayor throws ya out,”
Donnie said.
“Actually,” a gruff voice said, his boots clomping loudly. I saw a
guard uniform. “Pay up your city tithe for the week or ya gotta go.”
“Oh, Treb, don’t be like that,” Tarla said. Her brother kept his
mouth shut, letting her handle the negotiating. She batted her eyelashes and
Treb almost caved. “We’ll leave in the morning and sleep outside the walls
tonight or pull guard duty for five copper. Each.”
“Ha! As if. Yer out by tomorrow unless you have three silvers for
the city upkeep. Living in Tafo isn’t free, even if you sleep outside the
walls,” Treb said in a stern manner.
I slid into the bench beside the brother and said, “Donnie, three
ales, two rooms, and a big plate of food, please.”
He eyed me like I’d shot his dog. His fingers came out, and he
started counting with them.
“Eleven silvers, so a gold and a silver, if ya got it,” he said.
“I do. Lady Caity is my companion and will have her own room
reserved for,” I said. I pulled out two gold and put them on the table.
“Separate rooms, huh? I’ve been there myself,” the lad said with a
stifled fake laugh. He was trying too hard. Maybe seventeen. Or early
eighteen. “Name’s Jark, and that’s my sis, Tarla. Are the extra drinks for
us?”
“For an interview, yes,” I said with authority. Or at least tried to
sound impressive and official.
I doubted my bravado would last long even if Bell said to be the no
nonsense man.
This garnered Jark’s attention while Tarla placated Treb. The
moment three ales hit the bar, she excused herself, giving me a warm smile.
“Who’s the handsome fella?” she asked, and I frowned. “What?
Did you upset your missus?”
“Yes, and not my missus. We just killed four… Um… landsharks.
Sorry, new to adventuring,” I said. They stared at me blankly. “Black, slimy,
and rows of black teeth. Roam in packs.”
“Wow, I even jumped in the river to entice them but got nothing,”
Jark said, and I winced inside.
Maybe that’s how folks died to the slow creatures. They stealth
behind their prey and then cut off escape made sense, and then there were
people like Jark.
“My partner is selling them as we speak. I’m a healer. Call me
Damien,” I said, extending my hand. Jark clasped my forearm. Tarla offered
me her hand to kiss, and I shook it, puzzling her. “What type of mages?”
“I’m a lightning mage, that lady is a firecracker. I’m a four, she’s a
three. Main class upgrades get expensive and we’ve been here a month.
Best we got so far is a large eagle. You hiring?” Jark asked.
“Pay is shit, the loot is an even split, though, and the journey is
treacherous. The good news is, if you die, I revive you,” I said with my best
smile.
Tarla let out a low whistle. “Healers are an uppity lot, and you don’t
seem uppity.”
“I know, I happen to appear older than I am and due to a sheltered
life, I’m only a level two healer, not exactly a hot commodity. But me and
Lady Caity are needing experience and loot. This is the dangerous kind of
trip that most will avoid,” I said directly.
Jark rubbed the back of his neck. “Like beyond that map?” he
asked, pointing to a map on the back wall between a male and female
bathroom.
I left my barstool, ale in hand. The map showed Tarb and Yew
Wood on the left, and in the middle rested Tafo. Mountains to the north,
forest to the east. A danger line saying strivian territory bordered the
outside of the map.
Returning to my seat, I saw Tarla and Jark had swapped. It was
important for me to note every woman in the bar was fit and young,
meaning finding attractive women wouldn’t be tough, and I needed to shut
her down. Plus, Bell was prettier than them all.
I shifted to sit by Jark.
“Look, I’m not in the market, not saying you aren’t pretty, I just
need to play it slow. You trying to woo me won’t help your chances, and
while I want you to join us, you should avoid this journey,” I said.
“Where exactly are you going? I simply want to sit here so the
others who try to have sex with me for money leave me alone. They know
we’re broke,” Tarla said, patting the seat beside her.
A big plate of steaming rice cakes arrived.
They both eyed me for permission. Donnie slapped two keys down
along with my change. I thanked him and started eating in front of them. I
never gave them permission, and they didn’t ask.
Finally, I caved, handing them one each.
“Look, like I said, I need the help, but before I treat you like a
charity case by feeding you and giving you ale, what’s your story?” I
asked.
“Jark, you wanna take this one?” Tarla asked, heading to the ladies
room. A few lingering eyes followed her from the crowd.
Jark scooted closer and said, “We’re from Sasin.” He noticed my
lack of recognition. “It’s between the capitol and Litroo. We grew up in a
unique home. Most wealthy men keep a mistress. The ladies like to be
spoiled, and the men like the ladies. Well, our father had many mistresses
which led to many siblings, and he took them all in with rotating mothers.
At fifteen, our dad kicked us out with our mother’s approval.
“He inherited his fortune from the pre-mist days and refused to give
up a single coin to us or any others, insisting we make our own mark upon
this world. We went to Litroo and joined a starter guild with a healer. Every
single time we finally had a bit of savings beyond equipment, upgrades, and
cost of living, one of us died. The guild used the healer as a proxy and his
resurrections were not free.
“We both got sick of dying to the strivians. There’s always a new
flavor of death when you charge in looking for a fight. Plus, we were young
and desperate. We’re not the only youthful adventurers testing the strivian
lands to earn fortune and fame.
“None of that happened. By seventeen, we went to Sasin, and she
burned shit to keep us off the streets. I took any job I could and hated it. No
one needs a lightning mage in a city, meaning I had the worst jobs. After a
few months of this, we both reflected on what was better, and we decided
that adventuring just made more sense.”
“I don’t get why you’re broke then,” I said.
He patted his body and glanced over his shoulder to see Tarla
rejoining us.
“My body is not broken,” he replied. My English of broke did not
register correctly to him. “Got him up to us arriving in Tafo. Almost. We
figured going north would be best, and we did get a few lucky catches on
the way here from Sasin.”
“Broke as in out of coins, sorry,” I said. “Why is Tafo not working
for you both?”
Tarla sat between us, smelling of lavender with her hair neater than
before. Bags under both their eyes told me they lacked a good night's sleep,
but she had still tried to pretty herself up for me.
“We wanted something different than Litroo,” Tarla said.
“Everything in the south is fast paced. Every time we, as in the human
forces, garner a gain, a new threat rushes to beat back our advances. The
constant tide of battle only leaves a few fortunate and most dead.
“Hunting seemed more profitable than attempting to raid a goblin
village, or clash against mounted trollkin. Our theory was correct and
incorrect. This is the final outpost, and we spent a good year scouring the
land before arriving.
“Honestly, I think we just had great luck. We killed a falcon,
climbed the tree, and found four chicks. That was enough for what - six
months?” she asked and Jark nodded. “Then Jark started dating a widow at
Matri. Her brother hired me on as the team that dried up the water washing
on the streets. Things went smooth until he got grabby. We left one
morning when Jark was thrown out.”
The young man shrugged, trying not to let it show that it had hurt
him.
“We used traps the next few months and made ends meet. Trying to
get the next big score, we headed out here, and it's as if our luck dried up
because nothing has gone our way,” Tarla said. “What is your mission? Be
honest, please.”
Her batting eyelashes highlighted her piercing brown eyes. Tarla’s
cute smile probably lured in plenty of men, and I had to resist her charms.
“We’re leaving King Karn’s realm. That’s the plan, at least. But we
may earn a whole lot of Z and turn back,” I said nonchalantly.
The duo deflated.
“Your partner, what is she?” Jark asked.
“I’m a water mage,” Bell said, arriving from behind me. “Who’s
the cute kid?”
“I’m a man,” Jark said.
Bell bent over his space, stealing his drink. “Maybe,” she teased.
The moment she set the ale back down, I could see Jark’s face
enthralled by Bell’s beauty.
Tarla groaned, noticing it too.
“Bell, this is Jark and Tarla, a lightning mage and fire mage,” I said
and then asked, “How’d it go?”
“I had to buy a third pack for all the new gear. They paid extra for
the lacvra due to a local bounty. I wish we’d gotten the alpha. Oh well.
Anyway, we’re set, I even got myself a sword and replaced yours. Oh, and a
lady’s bow,” Bell said, sitting between the twins. “Are they coming?”
“We were just getting to the fact we’re leaving the kingdom and
that it’s just us with decent supplies,” I said, handing her the rest of my
food. Bell accepted with one hand. I noticed her hand went to Jark’s thigh.
“We could really use a lightning mage. It would make my water golems
useful.”
Tarla scooted closer to me, and I huffed. I didn’t want division to
increase between Bell and me. We technically would be partners for a long
time. However, she was a grown woman and a priestess of the goddess of
temptation.
We needed help, and I needed to compartmentalize my feelings.
Tarla decided to randomly pivot. She left the bench and went to her
brother’s side.
“When are you wanting to leave?” Tarla asked Bell.
Jark said, “The strivian lands aren’t what we’re wanting to brave.”
“Shame, really,” Bell said. “Key, please.”
I handed Bell her room key.
I decided to make an offer. “Two gold each, even split on loot,” I
said.
“A quarter of nothing is nothing, and we can die,” Tarla said.
Bell shrugged and said, “We want to be rich and intend to do so on
our accord. Tell ya what. We plan on taking a river about five days out.
Accompany us to that point. If you change your minds, we pay one gold
then. We’ll pay a second if you keep going.”
“Nothing today?” Jark asked.
“Nope, unless you contract for the whole trip. This trip is about
leveling our skills and about earning Z, not gold. A whole lot of Z. And
trust me, we’re not the charge in type. Tomorrow morning, you ride in the
wagon or stay here. When we reach the river a gold either way, staying or
leaving,” Bell offered. I noticed her hand enticing Jark. He licked his lips.
“Where ya staying?”
“We don’t have a place for tonight,” Tarla admitted.
“Damien doesn’t snore. If you accept our ‘to the river’ offer, a
silver each, and a room key,” Bell said, dangling the key in front of them.
The two glanced at each other, and I saw them reach a conclusion.
They really didn’t have a huge choice.
“Accepted on the contingent we can see if anyone else wants to join
us,” Jark said. Bell and I were about to retort when he continued, “For the
full journey, assuming you approve.”
“Deal. Now, get out of here. I need to talk to my partner,” Bell said,
handing them each a silver. The twins eyed each other, grabbed their ales,
then left. She spun to face me. “You need to not do that.”
I raised a single eyebrow and asked, “Do what?”
“Get all pouty because I’m wooing another man,” she said.
“Bell, I… I understand you have needs and resent me. I thought we
covered this. Also, I didn’t pout,” I said, defending myself. “Consider the
topic closed. Thoughts on the duo?”
“We need them. I’ll get more information out of them, but I think I
can convert them into disciples,” she said.
“They won’t have anyone to tempt and I certainly don’t want them
being deviants to us,” I said.
“Time will tell, and yeah, good point,” Bell said, and then ordered
more food. “I think they’ll not follow us anyway, or maybe he will, and she
won’t.”
“To a successful day and to Benny?” I toasted when her ale
arrived.
“Aye, I’ll drink to that. Tomorrow will be a new day. Hopefully, it
goes smooth,” she said.
We didn’t drink for long. When we retired for the night, the twins
followed us up. They asked a thousand questions in our room and received
a thousand half-answers.
I figured they were trying to decide to give us back our room key
and silver. No one else was interested in traveling to any parts of the
unknown. In the end, they resolved to travel to the river, and when they left
our room for the night, I set up a bed on the floor.
Bell didn’t argue or fight with me about it. We had slept beside
each other on the wagon bed before. This just seemed like the right way to
give her space and still say I’m sorry. She could have taken Jark into a room
if she wanted to. He clearly eyed her with desire.
Our compromise sated our egos for the evening, and I read to her
about all the gods until she drifted off to sleep.
That evening, I had some terrifying dreams about the Ostriva
sections of Nordan.
CHAPTER 13
Foothills of the Targee Mountains
Four days later, we sat around a late campfire. The stars shone
bright against a cloudless night sky
The crackle of the fire soothed my being while the flickering
flames lured me in with their hypnotic dance. I happily sighed.
“Here ya go, my mother’s special tea,” Jark said, handing me a
steamy tea.
Dinner wasn’t even on me to cook that night, and after the long ride
on the wagon, it felt great to not have my seat jostle.
“Thanks. Sorry we struck out,” I said and meant it. “At least we
found the old miner’s road to make the trip quick.”
Tarla frowned with a sad sigh. Out of the group, she talked about
the potential wonders and rewards the most. The trip up to that point had
highlighted a difference in the siblings. Tarla evidently loved nature, and I
figured Jark had come north for her.
“There’s gold for you in the morning. You should really help us
build a barge first,” Bell grumbled, likely feeling I was being too nice.
“I was just getting to that. You’ll get a few silver pieces to help
build the barge, depending on the complexity,” I said.
“That’s fair,” Tarla replied.
Her brother rolled his eyes. “It is fair.”
I sipped the tea, noting it was delicious with a tangy aftertaste. “Are
you sure we can’t convince you to change your minds?” I asked.
“Tarla and I talked it out. If you had a map to a new realm, a plan,
supplies for winter, and well, anything needed maybe, just maybe.” He
shrugged, delivering Bell her tea after his sister. “And for a whole lot of
gold.”
“Yes, we appreciate a gold each for an escort mission. The payday
will give us a chance to stay in Tafo. I, for one, will gladly help you build
your barge for your crazy mission,” Tarla said politely.
She sipped her tea, eyes flaring wide. Tarla turned on her brother
who smiled.
Bell wobbled and then slumped down. I frowned - or tried to. Bell
breathed, and my body tensed. I - I felt feverish.
Tarla spit out her tea.
“What did you do?” she asked.
“Drugged them, clearly. Only three hundred and fifty Ostriva
points. Worth every coin. Did you know they have raw Z on them? Margg
said he saw it when Bell bought supplies,” Jark said, without showing the
slightest remorse.
It added up quickly for me - we were being robbed.
I grew dizzy until I swooned. My shoulder slammed into the rocky
terrain, and I rolled next to the fire.
“I’m so sorry. I promise I didn’t know,” Tarla said, rolling me away
from the flames.
“How could you?”
“We’re going to Litroo with a proper purse. Because we’re not
poor, we can wait for the big groups or pay the entry fee to a proper
company. This time will be different. We’ll be rich, and I’ll have three
wives and ten mistresses,” Jark said, walking over with a pinch of green
substance.
He kneeled beside my head, squeezing my cheeks. My lips popped
open like a fish, and he shoved the herbs into my mouth. My body refused
to respond to inputs.
I hated this with a passion.
He reached into my robe and extracted my purse. I tried to curse
him and failed. He walked over to Bell. She slept softly, not even noticing
when he cupped a heavy breast on his way to her purse.
“I asked her if she’d be willing to go to Litroo with me instead of
into the wilds with you. She scoffed at the notion. Guess she won’t be a
wife after all.” He left her robes open, leering. He probably was having vile
thoughts. Eventually, he turned to me, deciding not to defile her
unconscious body further. “You should be out cold. I’m honestly surprised
you’re awake. That nilroot won’t hurt you, but I will if you try to take this
back,” Jark said, coming to loom over me.
He dangled the purse and slid a finger across his throat.
“You wouldn’t dare,” Tarla said.
“Sis, ease off. I gotta threaten him, else he’ll run after the wagon
and mares. What’s another three hundred points to knock him down twice?
I’ll leave you out cold again if you follow us,” Jark said. “Not like a healer
is a threat.”
Jark left, heading for the wagon. He tossed out our packs, not even
bothering with the supplies besides the books. He then removed the wagon
blocks and hopped onto the seat.
“Come on sis,” Jark ordered.
Tarla froze, not even five feet away from me.
I heard something, but I wasn’t sure what she said because I finally
succumbed to the nilroot.
∞∞∞
Hands pushed me. A stinging slap hit my cheek, and I felt like
death itself. I groaned, seeing Tarla shaking me awake.
Bell vomited from where she rested.
“Heal yourself,” Tarla said. “Something is happening in the
distance.”
Crack!
Boom!
The sounds of lightning and then thunder spurred me on. I placed a
hand to my stomach and willed a heal self.
Green aura pulsed through my being, and I vomited a second later. I
roiled as my body fought the poison. I felt my mana fading and stopped the
process.
Another round of vomiting led to bile ejecting through my nose.
While the burning sensation soared, I regained full use of my limbs.
I saw Bell struggling to grab a bow from her pack and knew I
needed to help her.
With a swift motion, I checked my orb.
Mana: 3/22
Mana Recharge: 2
Time to Mana Replenishment: 1 days 19 hours.
Zorta to refill: .043 (YES) - (NO)
I selected yes quickly. A second wave of healing left me back to
normal. I ran to Bell. She barely required any healing to recover.
“He put enough in your mouth to almost kill you,” Tarla said when
I grunted in confusion.
“What was that noise?” I asked, glancing at the area I heard the
lightning coming from.
“Fate,” Tarla said. “I refused to rob you and now my brother is
fighting something alone.”
A mighty roar rang loud in the air. I managed to rise, yanking my
blade free of its home. The steel shone in the firelight, and I saw the honed
edge ready for battle.
Crack!
The sound of the wagon splitting into bits and the dying scream of
two horses pierced the night.
“Help!” Jark cried, his voice gurgling.
I could just make him out, running from the distant miner’s road.
Behind him, a bear the size of the wagon illuminated against the dark
background.
A mighty paw shot forward. Jark tried to dodge, but he was too
slow. The bear smashed Jark down with a loud crack. His body crumpled
and tumbled, most of his limbs at broken angles.
We stood transfixed, knowing he had died. The bear loomed over
his body, sniffing the corpse as if daring him to get back up.
The flames flickered, causing the mighty beast to see our
silhouettes.
The bear reared up, standing over twenty-feet tall and unleashed an
ear ringing roar.
Twang!
An arrow zipped out of Bell’s bow, arcing high before diving down.
The bear watched us with shock.
The arrow sunk into its gut and Bell cheered, “I hit it!”
“I wish you hadn’t,” Tarla said sourly.
I readied my sword, not sure how this would play out. I knew I
could die. I certainly wouldn’t go down without a fight. Unless…
A plan quickly formed, and I belted out a war cry, charging a dozen
paces forward. When the bear realized his minor injury wasn’t a problem, it
kicked up grit in a mad dash.
The maw peeled back and snarling teeth at least a foot long dripped
blood.
The right side of the road dove down toward the river. The
embankment was steep and what I figured was our best bet.
I averted my charge when I saw the bear racing for me. I cut for the
river, trying my damndest not to trip and fall as I ran downhill at night.
A massive flame illuminated the dark. I glanced over my shoulder,
seeing the top of the fur keep going on the road, avoiding my decoy.
“Shit!” I cursed my luck, figuring for sure the bear would have
pursued me.
I spun, running back up the hill. The trip up burned my thighs and
was slower than my stampede down.
Another brightening from a magic spell highlighted the night at the
crest of the ridgeline.
A second later, Tarla came over the ridge at a full sprint.
I scampered up the slope and froze as Tarla almost impaled herself
on my sword. Her wild red hair float as she dodged my weapon. I saw her
holding both hands against her chest from a nasty wound.
“Hells!” Tarla screamed and promptly tripped after avoiding our
collision.
Her head smacked into a rock, and her neck bent at an awful angle.
“Seven hells, Damien! Help!” Bell shouted from above.
Running down the hill had been so much easier than going up.
I sprinted back onto the road, seeing the bear chasing Bell with
only three working legs. Fur burned, flames licking off the body as they
sizzled flesh.
Grunts of pain escaped the fierce animal.
Tarla had done a number on the beast and yet it pressed on, moving
quickly on three legs. I ran, my muscles screaming from how hard I pushed
them.
The back end of the massive bear pivoted, trying to reach Bell
when she turned.
I outpaced its run, reaching a hind leg. With a cross chop, I applied
all my strength into the swing.
Thwack!
Roar!
The blade parted thick hide, slicing tendons as it carved deep.
With insane speed, the bear tried to rotate to kill me but tumbled
instead.
A loud crash sent dust high, and the ground under my feet jarred
from the impact.
Bell panted heavily, circling around to grab an abandoned quiver. I
backed up, placing the fire between me and the collapsed bear.
“What happened?” Bell said.
“I was going for like five seconds, trying to have it crash into the
river. It never followed,” I said.
“Ya think? It only took five seconds to reach us. Tarla nailed it with
two perfect shots.” Her amazement didn't distract from the fact the bear was
still alive and pissed off. However, the beast laid there, unable or not
wanting to move. “Did you heal Tarla?”
“Ah, no, she died,” I said with a grunt.
Bell drew an arrow and fired. Her arrow sunk into the bear’s
shoulder, pissing it off.
“Would you stop doing that?” I scowled.
“What? We gotta kill it somehow,” she replied.
“Do we?”
The bear had enough with the latest arrow. With a mix of a roar and
cry for mercy, it mustered the strength to turn on us.
I focused on its movements, noticing the animal still had parts of its
body where fur flickered flames.
Angry red eyes revealed a tiredness.
The beast spun from its resting spot to face us on the other side of
the fire. With a snarling grunt, the bear found its tenacity.
With a great heave, the beast managed to stand on three legs.
Rip!
The tear on the hindquarters split and the bear collapsed. With a
frustrated huff, the bear billowed a small cloud of gravely dust.
I never expected to hear a bear whimper, but it did.
“Alright, follow me,” I said, leaving the fire’s protection.
Bell followed, and I kept my blade between me and the fallen foe.
We went to the ridgeline that dove down for the river. I saw the
corpse of Tarla resting by the rock, covered in her blood. Her head faced
behind her body at a horrid angle.
“You broke her neck? Why?” Bell blurted.
I frowned, not liking her insinuation. “Bell, she almost ran into my
sword by accident. She tripped and hit her head hard against the rock,” I
said defensively.
“Are you going to make her a minion?” Bell asked hesitantly.
“Huh? No. I’ll revive her, and she can kill the bear from a
distance,” I said.
“Smart,” Bell said, and I shrugged. “Right, I’ll watch the big
bastard.”
“Thanks,” I said.
I sat on the sloped terrain, not wanting to risk breaking my own
neck.
When I found a calm, I reached out for the colorful orb that floated
over Tarla’s body.
Knowing her orb would fight, I chanted, “Power is life, life is
power. Power is life, life is power.”
The magic from my hands reached out, entangling her orb. I
watched the magic seducing her soul to accept my manipulation. For the
first time, I felt a willingness.
Tarla’s orb danced over her body, excited to interact and I jolted
with a startle.
Resurrect Tarla Starski (YES) or (NO) - Selecting (NO) will
incur Ostriva points.
I selected yes, keeping my eyes closed. I leaned forward, feeling
the golden rays of the heavens descend to perform their magic. The light lit
the interior of my eyelids so brightly that squinting achieved nothing.
Boom!
A force shoved me back and into a tumble.
I groaned as scraps of rocks ripped open my skin. I came to a rest,
feeling a pain in my mouth.
With a wet smack, I spit out a mouthful of blood. I must have bit
my tongue that time.
“Hey handsome, try not to poke me with your sword next time,”
Tarla said, coming over. She saw me struggling and reached down to help
me up. Her eyes gazed down on me fondly, and I thought she was missing
the big problem. “Or, just ask. You’d be surprised what happens when a
man is polite.”
“I’m so sorry, Tarla,” I said, not taking her hand. She frowned,
continuing to stare down at me in joy. Ah, she hasn’t figured it out yet. “The
bear’s still alive.”
“Really, doesn’t seem a threat. What are you so sorry about?” Tarla
asked, her red hair dangling freely.
“You sure look lovely when you're happy from a revival and the
spell cleans you off all nice,” I said, trying to divert.
“Get to the point, Damien,” she said.
“I can only revive once a day,” I said, and her smile fell. An
anguished cry pierced the night, and she eyed me as if it were all my fault.
“Hey, hey! I just saved you.”
Bell came jogging down, wrapping up a sobbing Tarla in a hug.
The cursing of cruel gods railed out from the woman, and I stood
silently.
I took the cue and walked up the slope for the bear. Consoling a
woman who had just lost her brother probably was best left to Bell.
A large pool of blood soaked the gravely terrain under the bear. I
approached the body, seeing a gentle rise of the chest. I kept my sword at
the ready and refused to walk within reach of a sudden attack.
The bear never stirred, though. After a few minutes, I failed to hear
anguished cries, and I left the bear for the slope to check on the ladies.
Tarla had just found her stern resolution to ascend the slope.
“He made a mistake and fate summoned him to a terrible ending,”
Tarla said, stopping a foot in front of me. She tried to hold in her emotions
and failed. A moment later she added, “For saving my life, I’ll go with you
on your quest.”
Bell gave me a thumbs up in the background. I held back my eye
roll.
“He’s not gone, maybe,” I said, and this time she glared daggers at
me. “I have two magical classes that contradict each other. I might be able
to fix him.”
Bell shook her head no, quickly yanking out a dagger. Tarla backed
up, hands turning to flame.
“Tuck the claws away, ladies, that’s an order,” I said sternly.
Bell smirked and put her blade away. Tarla did not extinguish her
fire that licked her hands.
“What are you saying?” Tarla asked.
“One day I’ll ascend, and I’m new to Nordan,” I said, getting right
to the point.
The flames went out and she gasped. “A champion?”
“Yup, and an idiot for telling you,” Bell said with a sigh. “Since the
secret’s out, I’m his high priestess.” She added with a humpfh.
“And your plan?” Tarla asked with interest.
“We need to kill the bear, claim the horses, and then raise the
dead,” I said, and her jaw dropped. She glanced between Bell and I at least
five times. “My plan is to resurrect your brother and then try to heal him
tomorrow.”
“You can do that?” she asked in dismay.
I held my palms up haphazardly. I still held a sword after all. “Best
I got, Tarla. He stole from us, killed our horses, and then got you killed.” I
said and she nodded sadly. “But he’s still family.”
She paced, muttering to herself. Eventually, she stopped and eyed
me.
“Yeah, if the roles were reversed, he would try your crazy plan,”
Tarla said with her voice firming in determination.
“Raising the dead automatically means I gain Ostriva points. If you
stay at zero, I cannot bring you back from the undead. Keep that in mind
when you think about your current zero score. Also, I’ll be forbidden from
ever entering a human city again likely after today. Unless I want to stay a
healer, and I don’t,” I said.
“How does it work?” Tarla asked.
“All a theory so far. I’ve never done it. I just got a warning that it
adds Ostriva points and that’s it,” I told her.
“I think the bear is unconscious,” Bell said.
Tarla glanced at me and then the sword. “I don’t have Z to refill my
mana. And… even if I did, I wouldn’t waste it on something like that.”
I grumbled, manning up to the situation.
Bending down, I snatched a rock off the ground.
When I neared the beast, I hurled the rock.
Smack. Nothing happened besides the shallow breathing.
Edging closer, I approached from the charred busted leg. The
breathing had slowed significantly since last I checked.
An urge to flee tinged through my body. I squinted my eyes,
controlling my fear. When I reached a spot where I saw the blood being
blown by the raspy breaths of the unconscious beast.
I lined up a great overhead chop for the spot behind the head. My
blade raced down, and the bear never twitched or moved.
My cut sunk deep, spraying gore and fur until it hit bone. No orb
appeared, and the bear’s breathing slowed further.
I felt like an eye would pop open or the beast would lunge like they
did in the movies. Instead, I rotated to near the maw. When I lined up the
eye, I jabbed the blade home.
A loud squish sent eyeball fluid squirting out. I frowned when the
slimy juices soaked my hands. The bear breathed its last, and a big orb
hovered over the body.
“We’re going to salvage the fur that’s not ruined. It’ll be worth the
effort, and when she recharges her mana, we can semi preserve the
underside,” Bell informed me.
“I’m glad he robbed us,” I said, knowing the words probably stung
Tarla. “Not that he’s dead, but we all would have died. This… this bear is
something else.”
“Ole Tunni, a local terror. He hits camps at night. His normal
routine is to kill the party and eat the supplies. We heard horror stories of
him killing entire groups. Other times, he kills one or two, chasing off the
party and then they go back and revive the dead, or he runs when they fight.
I always thought it was a bullshit story,” Tarla said and then added. “Yeah,
he saved our lives with his greed.”
“Think he’ll tell us why he did it?” I asked, pulling my sword free.
“Jark loves the three-minute thrill between a woman’s thighs. Each
person has their motivations. He wanted to be our father. While I respect
our unique family, it wasn’t for me or a motivation of mine,” Tarla said.
Bell chuckled and said, “My mother has her boy toys and stooge
husband. This one fell prey to her ways.” Bell thumbed me.
“So that’s why you’re so testy around him but still eyed him more
than my brother. Jark bitched non-stop about that,” Tarla said. “Said he was
better looking and fiercer, but you blew him off. Well, not literally. Err…
anyways, thanks for sharing. I was wondering why there was so much
tension between you two.”
“Are you going to raise the bear?” Bell asked.
I nodded.
“We’ll stand over here to talk about what comes next while you
try,” Bell said. “I need some assurances if she’s going to continue with us.
Good luck.”
The two of them chatted while they watched over me. I focused on
my center, using a spell to cultivate the massive orb over the beast.
The resistance was too much, and the first attempt failed horribly. I
huffed, finding a dry spot to sit cross legged.
When I found my center, again I reached out to the orb and it
fought me to a point I thought I’d fail again. With my last bit of focus, I
absorbed the orb.
Claim or Consume Zorta
Claim.
Claiming the Tarni Bear as a minion will result in you earning
Ostriva points. Do you wish to proceed? (YES) - (NO)
Yes.
You selected claim a Tarni Bear. Consume 43.112 Zorta to
summon this creature as a minion of the undead.
I went back to the top menu and selected consume.
Zorta: 43.112 - Consume (Yes) - (No) or (Drop)
I selected yes.
When I opened my eyes both ladies watched me with anticipation.
I said, “Follow me.”
I walked away from the bear and didn’t get more than a few feet
before Bell asked, “What happened?”
“Needed forty-three Zorta to claim it as an undead minion,” I said
with disappointment. “It rewarded forty-three, exactly the same.”
“Damn! That’s a lot of Z. Where’d it go?” Tarla asked, looking for
an orb. “We barely earned that much as a party in Litroo and split it twenty
ways with taxes.”
I said, “I consumed it for now. I’m giving you my spare Z. I have
about two from Benny and the one landshark. That should be enough to
help you level.”
Tarla mulled it over and nodded. “Yeah, some nice upgrades for
certain. But two is not a third of the bear,” she said in a disgruntled manner.
“No, but we have charcoal and a ledger. We’ll keep it fair,” Bell
said.
“Yes, until we get a splitting mage, whatever they’re called,” I said.
Tarla replied, “Zortamancer. Or parsing mage.”
“Yeah, one of those, I’d rather not have forty-three zorta not being
put to use,” I said.
“As long as it evens out, I’m fine. Bell and I talked. I can…
become more than I am as a disciple of Caitlyn. Or I can take my leave and
return without my brother. I’m a bit emotional at the moment, so I’m going
to sleep on it before deciding to join Caitlyn and her champions or returning
by myself. Plus, I want to see what happens with Jark tomorrow night.”
I nodded. “We can stay for a day, set up some traps with bear meat,
and continue to gain Z. Apparently, being a necromancer is super
expensive. Maybe.”
I walked to Jark, contemplating if I should wait. His mangled body
held an orb over the corpse, and I decided to walk past him.
Tarla lit a stick to illuminate the wagon crash for us. Our purses and
supplies he had stolen lay scattered on the road.
The bear had crashed into the wagon from below onto the road,
busting the wagon against the uphill slope.
Both horses bore massive serrated wounds. They died quickly from
what I could tell.
“Okay, this one is less mangled. Let me try it on a horse first,” I
said.
“What if you can only raise the dead once a day?” Bell asked.
“Please, Damien,” Tarla said with a pleading tone.
“Save what you ladies can and hand her the spare Z you don’t need.
Both of you upgrade while I work the body. We don’t have a wagon
anymore, so I don’t really need a horse besides to be a pack carrier,” I said.
Bell and Tarla glanced at each other hesitantly.
“While we need a pack carrier,” Bell said. “Reviving Jark is a must
if we can.”
I nodded, leaving them to return to Jark.
I sat down, not sure what this would entail.
My focus remained scattered, and I tried to corral his orb to accept
my touch and failed.
A second try failed. As did a third. Deciding I likely needed to try a
new angle, I went into my stats to see if I could upgrade.
Cultivation 2 -} Cultivation 4 = .013 Zorta. (YES) or (NO)
Nice, at least it is staying affordable for now.
A moment later, I had cultivation at level four.
A chant escaped my lips. “Death is power. Power is everything.
Death is power. Power is everything. Death is power. Power is everything.”
Each rotation was louder than the first.
I felt a bit off saying this.
However, my magic coated his orb, and the resistance buckled and
broke under my new strength.
Claim or Consume Zorta
Claiming Jark Starski as a minion will result in you earning
Ostriva points. Do you wish to proceed? (YES) - (NO)
You selected to claim: Jark Starski. Consume 4.191 Zorta to
summon this human as a minion of the undead. This will incur 1500
Ostriva points. Do you wish to proceed? (YES) - (NO)
I had quickly selected yes up to this point. Now, I hesitated. There
was no going back after I Yes.
The gravel trembled, dancing from the vibrations. I balanced
myself the best I could as a spell swirled out of my being.
I opened my eyes to see black tendrils coated Jark’s body and bones
snapped into place. A haunting image transpired, and I became transfixed.
Seeing the bones returned to place wasn’t too bad. It was the souls
of the undead that stripped his skin off that caused me to want to vomit.
Gray ghoulish hands rose from the hard terrain. They peeled back
the layers of Jark’s body rapidly. In less than a minute, all that remained
was pale white bone.
I expected an explosion or some big bang to signify the spell was
over.
None transpired.
Jark’s skeleton stood, his lower jaw moving in rapid fashion. He
spun, seeing his sister and raced for her.
She flared fire, and I shouted, “No, don’t.”
Tarla extinguished her hands and let the skeleton hug her.
The jaw rose and fell, teeth clattering.
“He’s trying to talk but can’t,” Bell said.
“Come here, Jark,” I ordered.
The skeleton immediately reacted, abandoning his sister. While
there lacked facial expressions, I could tell by his body language this
saddened him.
“Run to the fire and back,” I commanded.
He sprinted at a full run as if he still had legs.
The ladies joined my side when he returned.
“Rebuild the wagon,” I said.
He placed palms up and shook his head.
“Build up the fire with collected sticks and then find a stick to
make a spear out of,” I said, and he took off to complete his task.
“Not going to lie, that’s awesome,” Bell said.
“Yeah… so, tomorrow, you think he’ll grow skin? Well, all the
other stuff too?” Tarla asked.
“That or the divine magic will ruin him and turn him to holy ash or
some such. They’re counter magics after all,” I said.
“Well, it's Jark. He hugged me exactly the way he always does. I…
I don’t want to risk him,” Tarla said despondently. “I guess we need to find
an Ostriva to kill, summon as an undead, and then resurrect. That’s him. I…
I love him. He’s my twin.”
“Sorry, I had to choose,” I said sadly.
“Yeah, well, you picked correctly,” Bell said a bit directly. I was
trying to be nice, but it appeared to be grating on her.
“Damien cares about my feelings and yours. I’m not some random
hussy in a bar anymore. I’m literally tied to you both in the hopes of saving
my brother or at least seeing his final death. But yes, it’s going to be weird
having a kind-souled necromancer as a traveling partner,” Tarla said.
I left her to go to the horses. I think that settled her wanting to sleep
on the matter dilemma.
I reached the first horse and stared down at the gutted body. Guess
that made it easier for the spell to consume the flesh.
I checked my levels real quick and saw more than a few needed
upgrades, including healer to three and necromancy to two.
Healer 2 -} Healer 3 = 3 Zorta. (YES) or (NO)
Necromancer Level 1 -} Necromancer Level 2 = 10 Zorta.
(YES) or (NO)
Oof. I had no idea what upgrading Necromancer from one to two
did, but it was insanely expensive.
I kept my eyes open to cultivate the horse's orb.
Again, I chanted, “Death is power. Power is everything. Death is
power. Power is everything. Death is power. Power is everything.”
The orb succumbed quickly to my spell.
Claim or Consume Zorta?
I hadn’t expected that. The retelling of Harvish mentioned no
cavalry. So, why did he avoid using mounts? I selected claim.
Claiming the horse as a minion will result in you earning
Ostriva points. Do you wish to proceed? (YES) - (NO)
You selected to claim: horse. Maximum minions per level
already reached.
“Well, shit,” I muttered with a frustrated sigh. Then it dawned on
me. If he was army size limited, maybe he valued two infantry over one
horse and one soldier. I went into the menu for my stats and upgraded
everything I could. I burned almost twenty Zorta.
Name: Damien Moonguard
Race: Human
Affiliation: Nordan
Zorta: 24.358
Nordan Score: 1100
Ostriva Score: 1500
Location: Targee Mountains
Magic Type: Healer
Healer Level: 3
Magic Type 2: Necromancer
Necromancy Level: 2
Necromancer Minions: 1/5
Fighting Level: Pathetic
Mana: 7/25
Mana Recharge: 3
Strength: 4
Stamina: 3
Dexterity: 3
Constitution: 4
Willpower: 4
Cultivation: 4
Intelligence: 25
Wisdom: 25
Charisma: 15
Tracking: 3
Endurance: 4
Perception: 6
Burst: 2
Reflex: 2
Healing: 3
Melee Combat: 2
Aim: 2
Hunger: 2
Thirst: 4
Aging: 47 years until death.
I cycled through the information. I had to guess I started with 1/1
and moved to 1/5. Does that mean I’d get 1/10 or 1/25 next upgrade? Hell,
maybe 1/50. I didn’t even want to think of the cost to get Necromancer 3.
I saw my Nordan score jumped too. Killing the bear likely added
points, the brute certainly had no qualms killing humans.
The clatter of a skeleton approaching told me Jark neared. In his
bony hand, he gripped his staff for lightning magic. I raised an eyebrow.
“Cast a lightning bolt into the river,” I said.
He shook his head.
“Can you ever cast magic again?” I asked.
Another head shake no.
“Can you ride a skeleton horse?” I asked, and he tried to explain a
shape to me. Eventually, I guessed, “With a saddle?”
He nodded this time. Okay, that further stressed why no cavalry.
Expensive to equip for a lord living in the wilds.
I huffed out a long exhale, pointing at his weapon. “Why show me
your staff?”
He went to the bottom and uncapped a cover. At the end was a
cheap metallic spear point.
“Will animals sense you?”
He shrugged.
“Smell you?”
Another shrug.
“Cook some bear meat and then start work on creating a barge,” I
said.
“No, straight to the barge,” Bell said and Jark froze, looking to me
for an override.
“Follow her commands as well,” I said and Jark ran to start
working on our barge. “Why no food?”
“We can cook. Save him for the back breaking labor,” Bell said
with a happy scoff.
Tarla went to help her brother. He was super animated when she
talked to him, and I saw her smiling from the interaction.
“She’s handling it well,” I said.
“She’s full of hope, as am I. Hope that the skeleton horse carries
my pack. What!? It's really heavy,” Bell said cutely. “How are you,
though?”
“Numb, my dear Bell. I’m so numb. On Earth, we had stories of
people coming to a new realm. They meet a pretty girl, or five, and decide
to stay forever. Yeah, Nordan sucks. I miss the internet, yoga pants, and
mundane library work,” I said despondently.
“Well, only one way to make go home is to preserve. And what are
yoga pants?”
“Like underwear that is really tight - goes from your hips to your
ankles and makes an ass look fantastic,” I said.
She folded her arms, glancing up at me.
“You haven’t tried to seduce Tarla, and I know she’s interested,”
Bell said.
I nodded. “Caitlyn said to get a girlfriend. On Earth it’s -”
“I know what an attached lover is,” Bell said sharply.
“Yeah, well. I never had them. Always wanted to avoid the eventual
let down and instead played the field. Caitlyn scolded me for my
womanizing ways. After she lured me into this trap after all,” I said.
“But you’re leaving. Why take the route of a relationship if it's
doomed to fail?” Bell asked, and I shrugged.
I didn’t answer because I didn’t have anything good to say.
She didn’t press me about the topic, and I turned back to the horse,
not sure which one this was.
Claim or Consume Zorta?
Claiming the horse as a minion will result in you earning
Ostriva points. Do you wish to proceed? (YES) - (NO)
You selected to claim: horse. Consume 1.228 Zorta to summon
this horse as a minion of the undead. This will incur 100 Ostriva points.
Do you wish to proceed? (YES) - (NO)
“Close your eyes if you want to. I’m going to try to summon the
other one quickly to test the spell,” I said.
I mentally accepted yes.
Black tendrils escaped my body, wrapping the horse’s corpse. I
tried to coax the second orb and failed.
The hands of souls reached out of the ground to strip the horse
clean. The transformation lasted less than a minute, and when done, a
skeleton horse stood.
“Go help Jark in his tasks,” I said.
The horse’s skull moved as if neighing in understanding. When it
clomped off for the distant fire, we watched it leave.
“So, horses are a thing,” Bell said with mild surprise.
“Yeah, worth more dead than alive, go figure,” I said.
She shook her head. “Yes and no. These mares were past breeding
age and only capable of so much life left. But yes, to a desperate owner,
they’re worth more to slaughter and not that many Ostriva points. Or so
I’ve heard.”
“A hundred points. So, I have three slots left and no one can ride
that horse,” I said, mulling over the other dead horse.
“Five, that’s good,” she said optimistically.
“Right, that was for tier two which cost ten Z to upgrade,” I said.
She gasped. “You’re never going to ascend.”
I sighed and nodded. “Probably why Caitlyn wanted me to reset.”
“I vote we raise the other horse. We can create a platform between
their backs in place of the wagon. I doubt they feel pain anymore,” she said.
“Right, lots to learn. Hey Bell,” I said, my tone getting serious.
“About Tarla. Should we trust her?”
“Yeah, I think we can,” Bell said, and we saw her petting the
skeleton horse. “At least they strip them clean and aren’t like zombies. Tarla
just lost everything she holds dear, and she didn’t take part in her brother’s
nefarious ways. You might want to warm her sheets to make her yours,
though.”
I shook my head. “I’m trying to be better. If I sleep with someone
again, it will be out of love, not lust.”
She snorted and sighed. “The necromancer romantic. So quaint.”
My stomach rumbled. “Fine, fine, quit yer bellyaching. Other horse,
please.”
I cycled through the process, numb to the souls reaping the flesh for
their underground domain. The system called this horse: horse 2.
As I watched it trot away, Tarla approached. I went about picking
up anything of value. I found my purse, handing it to her.
“You sure?” she asked.
“I’m not cut out for this. I’ll try my best to keep your brother and
you alive, but I need help. That means a stronger you, and I honor my word,
kinda why I avoid commitments,” I said and she opened the bag.
I watched her cultivate the orbs I had inside. She smiled and said,
“Level four. So, I want you to know, I don’t blame you.”
“Thanks, I feel responsible. I wish I could revive the both of you,” I
said.
“Level twenty-five reduces the timer to twelve hours. I’ve seen a
few of the guild lords with high level healers. Hey, so that’s him. One
hundred percent. He just can’t talk. We did our secret handshake and
everything. He can draw in the ground, though. He told me to say sorry and
that he must obey your commands. Even the bad ones,” Tarla said.
“Ah, you’re concerned,” I said.
“He did drug you and rob you,” she replied.
I nodded, seeing an opening. “A trade?”
“Loyalty in exchange for you not sending him to run off a cliff?”
she asked.
Again, I nodded, scooping a book off the road.
“If another bear comes, I’ll order him to fight it but try to stay
alive,” I said.
“Just my loyalty?” she asked.
I smiled and said, “I may be a necromancer, but just because I’m a
bad guy doesn’t mean I’m a bad guy.”
“You’re cute. Thank you for not exploiting me and for trying to
make the most of the situation. If… never mind. It’s been a rough night.
Thank you,” she said, running away.
I watched her brighten as she neared the firelight. My life had taken
another dramatic turn, and I hoped it would be for the best.
CHAPTER 14
Foothills of the Targee Mountains
After setting the wagon’s canvas into a tent, we slept downwind of
the dead bear. Jark was tasked with killing anything trying to earn a free
meal. The horses were set to walk around our tent as guards without any
issues.
I awoke in a pile of bodies with Bell snuggling me from behind and
Tarla snoring in my face. Prior to last night it had been Jark and his sister
separating Bell and me.
We simply needed to sleep in the same tent so there would be
awkward moments regardless. Once I quickly geared, I left the ladies to see
what the early morning had brought me.
I saw the two horses moving in a counter-clockwise pattern, their
skeletal frames still hard to absorb as real. I knew waking up in a different
realm would be challenging, but this one really left me struggling to wrap
my head around it.
A wafting scent of iron caught my attention.
About a dozen feet from our makeshift tent rested a fox, three
bunnies, a possum porcupine type animal, and even a large alien frog with
spider eyes.
I went back into the tent and stirred the ladies.
“Get back in here, it's cold,” Bell grumbled with open arms.
I frowned. “We went to bed wearing clothes. I can’t be that warm,”
I said in a chipper tone.
“What made you so excited?” Tarla asked, propping herself up. She
glanced down at her shirt and folded arms over her nipple show.
“Maybe it is cold,” I snickered.
A boot flew for my body and I retreated to give them privacy.
Jark stood, waving emphatically not even five feet away. He all but
danced about his catches.
“Jark, I gotta admit. I didn’t think you’d catch anything,” I said.
His continual animated talk walked me through what happened.
He stood still, the animals went for the bear, and he stabbed them. I
glanced back down at the bodies and realized he had stabbed them a lot. I’m
sure an animal might be easily fooled, but a sentient being would realize the
skeleton was a threat.
“Excellent work. Take the horses and go work on the barge,” I said,
almost adding please.
Bell arrived out of the tent first and said, “Can I have him guard me
while I poop? I always get so -”
“Yes.” I shooed her away with a wrinkled expression. “Too much
information.”
“Wait for me,” Tarla exclaimed, hurrying out of the tent. A second
later, she became distracted from the bodies. “Orbs!”
“Yes, part of my repayment plan. Let Bell tally everything so it’s
fair,” I said, and she ran off to catch Bell with a skip in her step.
The next half hour consisted of me knocking down the tent and
then trying to make sense of how to salvage it. The ladies quickly returned
to tally the loot from Jark and divvy it up through the ledger.
I knew I wasn’t due anything anytime soon. Eventually, if my
minions became that awesome, we’d need to shift the balance to afford a
larger army, but no point in raising a fuss yet. I couldn’t even see what
necromancer three cost until I earned experience.
While I worked to salvage what I could, the ladies pulled out maps
and discussed plans without me. Every once in a while, I’d get a look from
them both and a friendly wave.
I figured it was for the best to let them do their planning. After
trying to convert the canvas into an assembled tent, I quit. I stripped all the
wood off and just kept the canvas. The canvas fit in my bag, barely, and we
did have four staves in our group.
I returned to the scattered wagon and started hauling wood to the
construction site. The ladies went to work salvaging the bear’s hide. Their
grisly task constantly made gross noises. The slurps would probably give
me nightmares.
When I finished depositing all the remaining bits to Jark and the
horses, I saw only a small raft had been built. The skeleton weaved rope
between the two horses with the best planks from the wagon.
He worked tirelessly and happily. Somehow, I figured Jark would
be a glum asshole when he became a skeleton. Nope, he waved, and his
body language was contagiously happy.
Without a task, I went to cook the morning meal. I headed to the
small fire, unsure of what to prepare. I eventually impaled the three bunnies
onto my sword and used the flames to burn the fur.
The nasty smell led to me creating a way to prop the sword over the
flame without holding it. While I watched the sizzling rabbit, I stepped
back, not sure when they’d be done.
“What are you doing?” Tarla asked.
“Uh, trying not to let them go to waste,” I said with a shrug.
“I take it you never cooked a rabbit before?” she asked.
I pointed to the three rabbits burning on the sword. “Cooking
rabbit.”
“That… ugh. Where did Caitlyn’s champion come from?” Tarla
asked.
“Damien. Even if you know the truth, I prefer Damien. I haven’t
got to say this yet, but I did zero cooking. If I wanted to eat, I paid someone
else to have a machine… magic box, cook my food. Processing a rabbit,
never on the agenda,” I said.
She nodded. Walking to my blade with her hands wrapped around
her shirt. She yanked my sword free and sent it clattering against the rocky
terrain.
“Yeah, you need that. Not for cooking. Bell has a spit roast.” I
chuckled. “What’s so funny?” she asked, and I certainly didn’t answer. “The
last four days, the meals have been awful, and I fear it’ll only get worse.
Anyway, we need a cook.”
I glanced around, seeing no one else in sight, and laughed.
I wished for a cook to appear, and… nothing.
“I’ll put it on the to-hire list. So, what’s up?” I asked.
She tucked a hair nervously and said, “I’m level complete. As in,
for the first time since I first had a spell of luck, I have excess Z.”
“Excellent,” I said, not catching on.
“I can leave and be ahead,” Tarla said, her fierce brown eyes
locking to mine.
I caught her suppressing a smile, growing a smidge confused.
“Oh?”
“Except, maybe I found my purpose. Even if I’ll likely die soon.
Jark keeps drawing hearts for me,” she said.
“Anxious about the trip to Fraunt?” I asked.
She fidgeted.
“I’m grateful. I want you to know that. I also wanted to go back to
Tarb, get a miscee for a cook, purchase a carriage for comfort, and maybe
buy Jark some armor. And for you, too,” she said, hesitating.
I furrowed my brows, clearly misreading the situation.
“Um… you lost me, Tarla,” I admitted. “If we can make it happen,
we will.”
“You’re sweet,” she said, kissing my cheek. “I predicted you’d say
that.”
When she left I became even more confused. Bell arrived a few
minutes later with jerky from our supplies.
“You're fired as a cook. I gave you recipes and instructions before,
and this time, left you to do something. You put three rabbits on your sword
with skin and fur on over the fire. Fired,” she said with a snorting
headshake.
“Hey, what’s gotten into Tarla?” I asked.
Bell’s hazel eyes bored into me with a mix of pain, anger, and
happiness.
“We came to a decision and just need your approval,” Bell said.
That would explain the plotting earlier. “Uh, that doesn’t help me
understand the conversation I just had with Tarla,” I said.
“You’re such an oaf at times, Damien. I’m getting there. The first
part is. Wait a second.” She glanced around. “Well, come over here,” Bell
said, unfolding a map.
She walked to a nearby rock and laid the map out the best she
could. This version was old, and the second we would go down in elevation
the terrain would change.
I was still curious as to if the terrain shifted in design. How do
rivers flow or does it flood until new rivers form?
“This was the Pizt Dukedom before the mists and where I was
going to take you. On the other side of this region is the Fraunt. Basically,
Pizt is a giant valley that stretches for leagues and is now infested with
strivians,” Bell said. “The trip is dangerous and unknown. Still, it’s not
terribly long.”
“Okay, I’m listening,” I told her.
“That plan left Tarla’s knees quaking. Poor girl. She’s going
through a lot, and she sees you as a hero instead of a villain,” Bell said.
I folded my arms. “Hey.”
“I’m all for you being you in private. Honestly, being a kindhearted soul won her to your side in five days. Shocker. Anyway, Caitlyn
said your arrival would bring assassins. Ergo we needed to flee Tarb and
find ourselves at the start of a river,” Bell said.
“Yeah, I’m following so far,” I admitted.
“Okay, Fraunt is the next closest section of humanity for us to
traverse to. It even has a river that used to flow from these mountains to that
empire. Caitlyn said to leave Tarb, find a new source of humanity to exploit
while staying somewhere neutral,” Bell said with a frustrated sigh. “Again,
hard mode as she said. You're different, and we already went over this.
Fraunt is where they’ll track us to, assuming we’re followed.”
“Okay, what’s this?” I asked, pointing to a super distant northern
mark on the map where she rested a finger. “Rolva?”
“Ah, so a few things. Tarla has a point. Two undead horses and Jark
will make even a trip to Fraunt almost impossible with our current supplies.
We have extra coins again,” Bell said.
“If we backtrack, I’m dead to the first adventuring group who finds
me with skeleton minions,” I said.
“That’s never going to change, but no, we’re being tracked. Caitlyn
said as much. Another turn around isn’t a day lost. It's ten to Tafo and then
to get back here. Huge difference. Tarla wants to go to Rolva, and that
means months together on this very road,” she said.
Her finger traced down the Tangee mountain range, into a valley,
and the north along a massive mountain range. The second range was called
Parqi and it had zero cities labeled on it.
“You want to go north instead of east?” I asked.
She sighed and said, “We launch a small raft, make it seem like we
dragged a bigger one, and then go north. Obviously, we never get on the
raft.”
“A decoy?” I said with a questioning grunt.
She nodded, and my finger slid over the Parqi range.
“What used to live in these mountains?” I asked.
“Even before the mists there were still dangers in Nordan, just not
even close to the same scale. A dragon or two, orge maybe. It’s from before
my time and path of least resistance. We have to expect whatever strivians
arrived to naturally migrate when they expand. That’s fifty years of
unchecked growth in that valley,” Bell said.
I pinched my nose in frustration. “No hints from our goddess?”
“Nothing. Caitlyn would know, but she didn’t answer my prayers.
We probably need to build a temple,” Bell said with a slight shrug. “Either
way, she’s not warning me from going north at least.”
“One thing at a time. So, what’s going on with Tarla?” I asked.
“She wants to better prepare, and I told her we can’t afford to.
There’s something called savior obsession. Obsession is likely too strong of
a word. Basically, you saved her and her brother without exploiting her.
She’s fawning about your safety to me. Even predicted you’d go into danger
to grant her requests,” Bell said with a scoff.
I rubbed the back of my neck and said, “Yeah, I said I would. Okay,
should I worry?”
“No, actually the opposite. She’s decided to be a disciple of Caitlyn
and follow us north,” Bell said.
“That’s good, right?” I asked.
“Yes and no. She’s a bit moonstruck. If you play it slow, she’ll
recover and see the error in her ways,” Bell said and stopped my protest.
“Look, I wanted to thank you for healing my arm. Then you slept with my
Ma. Almost two weeks later, and I’m coming around to not hating you.
However, she’s girlfriend material. If you ascend, I’ll never go with you.”
I understood what Bell was insinuating. She was semi interested in
me but made it clear if I desired love she was not the right choice.
“I’m going to be the sweet necromancer to both of you ladies as a
friend. Enough said. Now, going north. You’re sure about that?” I asked.
“No, I’m a water mage and a city girl. But it makes sense, assuming
we can cover our tracks where we turn north, and those following us take
the river,” she said, tapping the map again. “If we go north, we’ll have less
time in a valley but at least two more months of walking.”
“Ah, hence her wanting a cook. We don’t have enough supplies,” I
said.
“Yup. If someone gets to Tafo and sees what we bought, they’ll
learn that we only have enough for a raft trip to Faunt, not a trip to Rolva.
That extra-long journey worries Tarla,” Bell said.
I chuckled and asked, “And not you?”
“I’m a devout believer. If I die or you die, so be it,” she said.
I glanced at her with judgement. That sure was a fanatical way to
think about it.
“When do we leave?” I asked. “And how do we survive?”
“Now, and we save most of our rope. The planks of the wagon
made a nice rack, and the horses are ready. We ride the raft for only a few
feet and then cut in,” Bell said.
We noticed Tarla arriving with Jark. She held up a bone, and I grew
confused.
“Jark would like for you to reattach his finger,” Tarla said, a broad
smile on her face.
She handed me the pinky finger.
I accepted the bone into my palm and stared at it blankly.
“Apparently, he thinks you can fix it,” Tarla said. She edged closer
and said, “Please.”
I touched the bone. Nothing. I mediated a spell, extending my aura
to the bone. Nothing. I waved Jark forward and stuck a hand on his skull.
Nothing. I projected my aura to his being.
Minion: Jark.
Health 9/10. Level 1.
Sapient Human.
Memories intact.
Fighting Abilities: Weak.
Upgrade Available. Consume 12 mana and 1 Zorta (YES) or
(NO)
Repair Required. Consume 3 mana (YES) or (NO)
I checked my mana to ensure I didn’t face plant.
Damien Moonguard
Mana 19/25
“Uh… stand back,” I said, and everyone backed up. “Come here
Jark. He repairs for free, minus mana. I can upgrade him. I’ll leave the
option to you, Tarla.”
“What’s the upgrade for?” she asked.
“Not sure. Let me fix his finger first,” I said.
I selected yes to repair and felt the spell leave my soul. Tendrils of
black magic swirled around his finger until the waves lifted the bone, flying
it to his hand. A small explosion of black magic transpired when the finger
reattached and then the problem was fixed.
“Why are you giving her the choice?” Bell asked with a raised
eyebrow.
“If I upgrade him and he grows horns?” I asked with a
hypothetical.
Instead of arguing, Bell waited to see what Tarla did. The redhead
spoke in hushed tones with her brother. He ran to grab a stick and drew
‘upgrade please’ in the gray mountainside.
Tarla nodded, and I sent my aura to wrap him again. When I
mentally highlighted the option and selected yes, he collapsed into a pile of
bones.
A tornado of black magic pushed us back. The bones clattered with
violent shaking. I saw the bones swell ever so slightly and then, as quick as
the tornado arrived, it disappeared.
Jark’s bones reconnected and he stood a wee bit taller and thicker
than before.
Minion: Jark.
Health 11/11. Level 2
Sapient Human.
Memories intact.
Fighting Abilities: Weak.
Upgrade Available. Consume 61 mana and 21.05 Zorta (YES)
or (NO)
“I guess he can level from killing mobs. Spoiler, its stupid
expensive. I need to increase my mana to even get him to level three and
then it’s over twenty Z. So… How the hell am I supposed to go home if
everything consumes all my savings?” I asked with a sigh.
“All champions who vanish in the book do so after many years,
Damien. I’d temper your expectations of going home right away,” Bell said
sadly.
“We’re here to help,” Tarla said. Jark drew in the dirt again. “He
says thank you and wanted to say the raft is ready.”
“We have everything ready to go on the horses. Time to continue
this journey,” Bell said.
I nodded and hefted my pack onto my back. Our trek for a new
home was beginning, and I had to hope it went smooth.
CHAPTER 15
Foothills of the Targee Mountains
“I’m not following,” Tarla replied, having to skip a step to keep up
with my longer stride.
She glanced up to Bell who perched on the platform of the skeleton
horses. Both ladies looked worn out from our aggressive pace since leaving
the bear kill. The horses had helped, staying ahead of our walk with all our
gear stored neatly.
“Don’t look to me for an answer. I haven’t a clue what he means by
ascended dreams,” Bell said, letting her feet dangle.
The wooden planks groaned when two people were carried, hence
me walking and Tarla trying to keep up. I really felt like we were being
pursued. We had no proof and Jark never found anyone, but I still had that
sixth sense of eyes on my back.
I shook the feeling, enjoying the early morning sun rising for the
fifth day of the trip.
Each morning, I would wake up on my isolated side of the
surprisingly soft, bear-furred mat. I would prepare the fire and then sort the
loot from Jark. Most mornings it was a bunny or squirrel. This morning,
there had been no prize to greet me.
Tarla would light the fire, I would cook the prepared kabobs that
Jark had ready, and then we would start an early day march at sunrise. This
morning was no different.
The old miner’s road had become our guiding trail. This far from
Karn’s Kingdom resulted in the wilds reclaiming the once worn path. Thin
trees tried to block out the morning rays and failed allowing for a pretty and
bright summer morning.
A gentle breeze pushed thick underbrush that dominated the rough
terrain between the pines. I kept my head on a swivel and only a few critters
fled from our march north. Occasionally, we would pass steep drop offs or
long slides of treeless slopes.
Not once did I see the demarcation line of where Nordan
transitioned into Ostriva.
To pass the time, I asked Tarla what she dreamed of becoming
when she grew up. Then I had to say it was a concept from Earth which
translated into ascended. She found the concept odd.
I decided to clarify. “On Earth, there’s no transition into a magic
class. I’m not a healer on Earth, nor would I ever have been.”
Tarla frowned and said, “But you tell us there is magic on your
ascended realm.”
“Yes, technological magic. We have a saying; if something defies
logic, but exists, it must be magic. And also; magic is simply science that is
not understood yet. Or some such,” I told them with a shrug.
“Lots of sayings from this ascended realm. I can maybe understand
your question then. I wanted to be a fire mage. I became a fire mage. I
dreamed of a big house, a single husband, and ten children. I’d breed war
mounts and be really good at it. The fire mage was a stepping-stone to reach
my goal,” Tarla said. She glanced up at me and asked, “And you?”
“Ah, see, that’s what I was after. I wanted to be a pilot,” I said, and
they frowned. “A gryphon rider but one that can carry hundreds of people. I
see you both growing confused. Just pretend they exist where they’re really
long and can hold a whole bunch of people.
“Pilot school required years of rigorous training. I had studied all
the work that it would take and then gave up before ever trying. I didn’t
want to subject myself to that much effort. Happiness was always my goal.”
“Children?” Bell asked.
“Yeah, one day. I was waiting for the right time,” I lied.
Children would be one of those life decisions I fully expected to
kick down the road until I could say, ‘Sorry we didn’t act sooner.’ Of
course, that was assuming I even found a girl I’d let get attached.
Then again, that was the old me. Now, I had an excuse ready to go.
“Right now, there’s likely assassins going down river to find our
raft against the riverbank. Could you imagine having a baby with us while
trying to stay silent?” I asked.
A snicker from the rocky bend in the road ahead resulted in me
skidding to a halt.
A centaur left a cut in the hillside on the right. He tossed Jark onto
the road, and my skeleton scout bound tightly in rope.
“These fools are so loud. Wait to see how they react before you
reveal yourselves. He is likely not from Nordan,” the centaur said.
This variation was tall, at least two heads higher than me. A crown
of antlers adorned the elder male’s head. His shirtless body reminded me of
a dad body, and his horse body held a bit of a chunk to it too. A gray beard
stretched down to his belly button, and his hands rested on daggers attached
to a stomach bandoleer.
I stuck my hands up slowly.
While his physique may not have been intimidating, the four other
centaurs leaving their hiding spots with magic dancing across fingertips
gave me pause. Each of them looked ready to cast, and they caught us by
surprise.
“We should surrender,” Bell said.
“What is she saying?” a younger centaur demanded angrily.
“They’re plotting a counter-attack. I know it, father. We must kill them
now.”
“He’s a necromancer. How many times do I have to tell you,
Zeedodan? Not all humans are from Nordan. See, look at his eyes, He
understands what I’m saying,” the leader said.
He had a point. I glanced up to see Bell and Tarla confused by the
two centaurs interacting.
“Hello,” I said, not moving much.
“By the goddess,” Bell blurted.
“What did the ugly one say?” Zeedodan asked.
While I wanted to argue that Bell was pretty, I held in my snippy
retort.
With a smile, I said, “I didn’t realize you were in charge.”
This landed its mark. The youth went red and the leader chuckled.
“Greetings, necromancer. Welcome to our range. I’m Perqueta,” he
said with a pleasant greeting.
“I see my scout failed me,” I told him.
The lack of understanding overwhelmed Tarla. “What are you
saying?” she asked in confusion.
“I’m going to need you both to be quiet, please,” I said and then
glanced at Perqueta. “They’re just curious to hear what we’re saying.
Exactly like Zeedodan is trying to understand what the ladies are saying.”
Most of the centaurs accepted this without much pushback.
“Where is your army, ‘mancer?” Perqueta asked, taking his arms
off his dagger hilts. The centaur then folded his arms across his chest.
I placed my hands on my hips and said, “I just escaped
confinement, a confinement for far too long. These are my loyal human
servants who helped me escape. We tried to trick our pursuers about five
days back by building a raft and ditching it. After that, we fled on this road,
and well, now I’m before you.”
Okay, that was a huge lie with some truths. However, it wasn’t like
he could prove it. The story might also explain my lack of an army and
aged appearance. I smiled, seeing if my charisma would help sell the fib.
“Humans imprisoned you?” he asked with a squinting gaze.
“The bastards sure did. Unfortunately, my revenge had to wait. We
escaped without me razing the city. Soon, though. Soon I’ll be powerful
enough to burn Tarb to the ground,” I said with an evil laugh.
“That’s excellent news. We ourselves have had to constantly fight
humans after the tresca pushed us up and out of our native forest. These thin
pines are inferior, and the soil less fertile, but we manage. Would you be
willing to give your word that your servants will behave while we discuss?”
he asked.
I bobbed my head up and down. “Certainly. What did you wish to
talk about? We have humans following us, so progress matters.”
A smaller centaur came charging from the way we came. Perqueta
waited for him to arrive before he asked, “And their trail?”
“I diverted the path this morning and made it appear as if they went
east. Based on the tracks, just the three alive and three undead,” the scout
reported.
“Signs of pursuit?” Perqueta asked.
The young scout shook his head.
“Not hot on their hooves. Well, whatever hooves humans have. Did
you check his Ostriva score?” the scout asked.
“I only have a hundred points for Nordan,” I said. “Had to kill a
cellmate trying to steal my power. Since then, I have 1500 Ostriva points. I
was telling your leader I just escaped a long confinement and am rebuilding
my army for revenge, a revenge he wants to see happen.”
“Ha! My apologies. No Nordanian speaks flawless Strivian,” the
scout said. “Did you offer the trade yet?”
Ah, and now the reason for our talk is revealed.
“In due time, Ubrinsi. Go further afield. Ensure no humans are led
to our home,” Perqueta said, and the centaur scout galloped away.
The leader bent down, removing the vines that bound Jark. The
skeleton ran to his sister with arms out defensively. His attempts to keep
them at bay would be minimal and this amused the centaurs greatly.
Their boisterous laughter put the ladies on edge.
“You killed her lover to claim her as a servant wife. Wise. Come
with me. I have a proposal. Your scout is scentless where we… stink,”
Perqueta said, walking away to the downhill slope.
Walking over to Tarla I scooped her up and on over my shoulder.
“Follow me,” I commanded, and the skeletons obeyed.
I followed him and said in what I had figured was English but was
probably Nordanese, “We’re being treated to a meal and an offer. He needs
a necromancer, I think.”
“What did you tell them to make them not kill you on sight?” Bell
asked.
“Apparently, humans lived on Ostriva too, but they were just rare.
Necromancers were among them. I speak perfect Strivian, so I passed,” I
said with a shrug.
“That’s it?” Tarla asked in surprise. “And why are you carrying
me?”
“Uh…” I set her down. “I wanted to grab your butt?”
“That’s not it. You didn’t even grab my ass. What did you tell
them? That I’m your sex toy or something?” Tarla asked accusingly.
I winced and said, “You’re my servants. We escaped a dungeon.
Jark was your husband, and now you're my slave wives. We’re a big happy
family!”
My sarcastic spin of trying to make the most of the situation fell
flat.
“Everything okay?” Perqueta asked.
“I said this was cause for celebration. They didn’t share my
enthusiasm,” I said with a shrug.
“It’s natural for females to be sour. Our breeders are the worst,” he
replied with a scrunched face. “The nipping for feed is the worst.”
The further we went downhill, the thicker the trees became both in
girth and sheer numbers.
No one said much, and even though it was only a fifteen-minute
walk from the road, we would have never known what we bypassed if they
had left us alone. We walked around thickets, over a creek with a few fallen
trees for a bridge, and even passed a small, dilapidated barn.
Eventually, we weaved through the growing pines until we arrived
at a wooden wall twice my height. Yew Wood came to mind, minus the
church and smokestacks. The interior held gardens, and I saw a centaur
chasing a young female horse and tried to remember their appropriate title.
A few mares roamed, and while I saw plenty of male centaurs, I
saw no females. I grew confused, but I had to fake like I expected this.
While I continued to glance around, I noticed a few hastily constructed
overhangs that provided shelter from the rain.
The entire village reminded me of something temporary.
Eventually, I saw a pregnant mare and no male horses. As disturbing as it
was, these strivians wore no pants, so it was easy to tell the sexes apart. Bell
understood a few seconds after me.
“They have no female centaurs because they’re a male only race
and use horses as females,” she somewhat blurted out in dismay.
Zeedodan glanced at me, and I said, “She expected to see bare
breasted female centaurs tending to babes. I let it be a surprise.”
This too amused them greatly and boisterous laughter drew the
attention of the young boys. A scuffle from the side revealed one of our
escorts mounting an unsuspecting mare, all while giving a throaty laugh.
The scene became x rated, and I quickly averted my eyes.
We certainly weren’t in a Nordan society anymore.
“Your home is adequate,” I told them in a proud tone.
“Adequate indeed. We’re simple centaurs. Come, the firepit is our
favorite spot. I’d offer you a meal but know you already ate,” Perqueta said,
leading us around the only actual building which was a hastily repaired
farmhouse.
A trio of young colts scraped up the ashes of a dead fire, bringing
fresh sticks. The mares meandered, doing nothing more than being penned
inside the walls. The only sort of productivity I saw was a bowyer on the
porch of the farmhouse.
With most of the centaurs having magic, I guessed it wouldn’t
matter much if they had steel armor and a smithy for swords.
I walked to a spot around the fire and stood. Bell and Tarla
stationed themselves behind me and stayed close. Jark and the mares stayed
outside the circle.
“As we need, we shall be seated,” Perqueta ordered, and the
assembled group laid their horse bodies down. Their top half sat just as
poised and upright as I did. All throughout the village, others sat even if not
by the fire. Clearly his words held reverence. “And so shall we recover.”
His hands swirled fire, and a second later flames crackled over the
fire pit.
“Thank you for your hospitality,” I said, situating myself. “Now,
how may I be of service?”
He pointed to Jark. “That one ran into our ambush, and I mean he
literally walked into me. I never sensed or heard him. Of course, I knew
what he was the second he stumbled into me.”
“Ah, yes, he catches small animals unaware,” I said with a nod of
agreement.
“We have neighbors that we rarely agree with. The yabii are a race
of two leggers, akin to humans. They find our mates to be offensive. If we
don’t sex mares, our sons will never be born. We try to trade new females
for bows or whatever they want, but they refuse. The yabii have captured
my…” his face flamed a tad red. “My favorite lover.”
A few of the centaurs sneered or smiled evilly at his reveal.
Ah, they are ashamed he loves an animal. Makes sense why the
earlier display was so brazen. There are centaurs and centaurs only in this
village. The rest are warm slots to breed new centaurs, and the mares are
merely that. Breeding tools.
Did I want to perpetuate the cycle? No, no I did not. Unless.
“Alright, you want a single mare broken out of the yabii lands?” I
asked directly.
“Any will do. The more females we have, the stronger my herd
becomes,” he said, receiving nods from the others. “That skeleton will be
capable of sneaking into places we simply cannot go.”
I nodded, understanding the basics. “And the trade?”
Zeedodan cleared his throat and said, “Yabbi slaves. We have a half
dozen in the dwelling. They help us build.”
I furled my brow. “Seems they’re indispensable.” Zeedodan turned
his head and this time Perqueta smirked. “The builders are not worth giving
up for more breeders. They are too valuable with their improvements.”
“We can always capture more. They started the war,” Zeedodan
said with clenched teeth.
“My lands were far from yabbi lands. Will you drag one out for a
sample,” I said.
“Yes, they are new to us too. So human-like,” Perqueta waved at
one of the centaurs not in the circle and said, “Bring me the troublemaker.
A gift.”
I smiled and waited. A young colt served tea to the adults. I was
offered a cup but refused politely.
“What’s happening?” Bell asked.
“A gift apparently,” I said. “They want more female horses to grow
the herd. Jark will be able to bypass defenses to free mares. If we do that,
they have builder slaves they want to trade. I think this is all a setup to get
mares and then they’ll likely cross us. Sorta not great for us for walking into
an ambush.”
“What’s the plan?” Tarla asked.
I shrugged. “We have a few options, most of them involve fighting.
We can’t run from these horsemen. Especially since they all have magic.
Speaking of which, how is Litroo not a giant mess of mages just flinging
endless spells at each other?”
“You mean how do you defend against offensive magic?” Tarla
asked.
Bell replied for me, knowing that is what I meant. “It requires a
deflection mage, a blue bubble type shield that deflects magic. You can buy
gear endued with minor shields built into them, but they get expensive. The
big thing about magic is that it's super costly to expel. You saw Tarla. She
only cast two spells and ran out of mana.”
“Yea, when I think about it, so did Desra. Okay, let me negotiate
and try to get a good deal,” I said. “I’m not sure how it will go, but I’ll try
my best to keep you both alive.”
Bell scoffed and Tarla surprised us both when she said, “I trust
you.”
Our hosts didn’t seem to mind our side chatter and simply relaxed.
A minute later, the door to the house burst open. A fit centaur
dragged out a humanoid bound in ropes. His bright green eyes shimmered
with hatred.
The second he saw us, he closed his eyes and sighed in relief. The
how or the why I was unable to ascertain.
A second centaur brought over a planter with a small tomato plant
growing from the pot.
“An elva,” Tarla whispered.
“What did she say?” Perqueta demanded.
“She called him an elf. Which he is not, but close,” I said with a
grunt. “I have to wonder if the magic warped a few of the species.”
“Interesting insight. This one is different from the others. He
doesn’t speak our language,” Perqueta said. “That has made him a problem
and a prime gift.”
I shrugged and said, “The ways of Nordan are foreign to me. He
could be an elf, or he could be a stubborn yabbi.”
“Yes. Either way, you’ll need him. Zeedodan, do the honors and
feed the plants his life,” Perqueta ordered.
The horned elf struggled, fighting the centaur the best he could with
the vines tight around his body. Bell gasped and Tarla whimpered, both
understanding before I could.
Zeedodan grabbed the elf once he was in position and retrieved a
knife from his belt. The elf died with panic in his eyes, his throat slit to
drain into the potter.
I wanted to look away, I really did, but I couldn’t. His muffled cries
of sadness died with him in quick order. Zeedodan let the body flop down
where it twitched a few times.
“Our gift to you. The two skeletons should get through the
defenses, and if not, just show me your minion score when you return to
prove they died trying. In exchange, you’ll leave your supplies behind,”
Perqueta said.
I wanted to frown, sigh, or scowl. I smiled the best I could.
“A great honor, and I will accept when we reach terms. What if the
process takes a few nights? I need a place to sleep, food to eat, and time to
plan,” I said in a stern way.
“You’re right, of course. You can have a single pack with a tent but
no horses. You’ll never outpace my herd even if you ran day and night,” he
said.
I pretended to be upset about this. Then I flicked my orb and sent
him my minion count.
“Three of five. Go ahead, make it four. That dung heap will free us
many mares. How many you bring back with you will determine how many
yabbi I trade you. Zeedodan will accompany you to ensure you’re keeping
to your end of the bargain. Finally, he becomes a full member of the herd,”
Perqueta said proudly.
Yeah, right after he slits my throat and imprisons the ladies. Still, I
might need these people. A fair deal would mean someone I could use later,
or a place to retreat to.
“Let me tell my slaves what is happening,” I said.
I turned to see Tarla putting Bell’s brown hair into a tight bun.
“The deal is good,” I said in Nordan to Bell and Tarla. “Almost too
good. He should be wanting to keep one of you here. Instead, he wants the
undead horses to stay, and we get one pack. Oh, and an escort. The hothead
who slit the elva’s throat.”
“All for female horses?” Bell asked, and I nodded. “Yeah, having
allies won’t hurt. They seem trustworthy.”
I caught her glancing at one of the younger centaurs. His eyes
showed a slight understanding, and a few other centaurs gave him flickering
gazes.
Maybe the elva was teaching Nordan. Or a different prisoner.
Hmm…
A mare came over, nickering for something. I caught onto
something else at that moment. The young mare was making noises. They
all gave grunts, snorts, and smacking of lips. I just hadn’t realized until that
moment that they communicated in a second language.
They conversed in horse. The kid centaur was likely telling the
council we were trusting them.
I had to exploit this. But how?
“I just think we’ll fail. Two minions to take into an enemy city
means we’ll likely die. I need a distraction, and we’ll be weighed down by
the packs, meaning…” I paused as if contemplating. “I guess we could use
the female horses as regular horses. Even if we’re going for only the main
lady.”
“Why wouldn’t we use the mares as horses to ride?” Tarla asked.
Bell patted her leg and said, “Trust in Damien, please.”
I turned to Perqueta and said, “Please describe the ideal mare for
you.”
The next ten minutes consisted of him talking about a white female
horse. I got to hear about her curves, perfect fur, and how she would nuzzle
a male the perfect way. He went into detail about everything, and I mean
everything. Even the sex, and I pretended to listen aptly.
At the very end, he said, “Pheliniphia is not a common mare for
carrying your gear or self. She is only allowed to be ridden by me. Is that
understood? I’ll include Serriavian to help with the escort mission. That
way you won’t tire or be caught easily.”
I was hoping he’d give me one of my undead horses. I held in my
grimace, continuing to keep a wide smile on my face.
“You pay in advance, the minion for Pheliniphia,” I said.
“Her or another mare. I need to keep the blood lines fresh. You
have my word that any others you free will be freely traded for. Upon your
return with our mares, you’ll be free to exit our lands without assault from
my herd and be considered a friend within these. And so it shall be known,”
he said.
The other centaurs repeated, “So shall it be known.”
“May I stand and claim my new minion?” I asked, and he smiled.
“Go right ahead, add the filthy slave’s corpse to your growing army.
What a waste he was in life, and may he serve you in death,” Perqueta
asked with a grin.
I rose with determination, heading to claim my latest victim. I
could only hope his eventual revival wouldn’t erase him forever.
Instead of letting his death weigh on my shoulders, I did the only
thing I could.
If I revive him, they kill us. This is sad, this is wrong, and death is
life in Nordan. Beach on an island, beach on an island.
I closed my eyes, focusing on his orb. My mediation deepened as I
concentrated. A battle of wills ensued, and I was as determined as he was.
Eventually his orb’s resistance broke, and I was given a prompt.
Claim or Consume Zorta?
Claiming the Asha Stormbringer as a minion will result in you
earning Ostriva points. Do you wish to proceed? (YES) - (NO)
You selected to claim: Asha Stormbringer. Consume 17.227
Zorta to summon this human as a minion of the undead. This will incur
1500 Ostriva points. Do you wish to proceed? (YES) - (NO)
After recent upgrades that would leave me at only one zorta left.
Whomever this Asha Stormbringer was, he carried a high cultivation value.
I selected yes, watching the ground exude souls. The centaurs
gasped, likely never seeing a body become claimed. The skin, tendons, and
muscle were quickly stripped off, and I let the numbness from the visual
nightmare wash over me.
A second later, Asha rose despondently. He sulked where Jark
beamed.
Ah, they’re really reflections of their former selves.
“Cheer up, Asha,” I ordered. “Your woes of life are over, and you
can help me make a difference in this form.”
I raised a hand, connecting to his aura.
Minion: Asha.
Health 27/27. Level 1.
Sapient Elva.
Fighting Abilities: Highly proficient.
Memories intact (Suppressed).
Upgrade Available. Consume 12 mana and 1 Zorta (YES) or
(NO)
Damien Moonguard
Mana 19/25
Zorta 1.91
I sighed and figured it was best to have him at his peak. I selected
yes for the upgrade, and a swirl of black magic descended in a tornado. This
sucked in the flames from the fire and startled the herd to stand.
Asha collapsed, and a second later he reformed with thicker bones
and standing slightly taller.
I quickly checked, and he went to thirty health and level two. No
upgrade awaited him. Maybe the one to two was automatic. So much to
learn.
Perqueta scoffed before yelling at his son, “Zeedodan, take these
guests out of the walls before they frighten the herd further. Serriavian,
carry the supplies.”
The brash young centaur huffed, leading us for the exit. I saw the
young one who spoke Noradan scoop up two of the four packs.
I held in my smirk and tried my best to act naturally. If they wanted
to allow a mistake, I’d not let them know.
The skeleton horses wanted to follow, but I ordered them to stay
while I brought Jark and Asha.
We walked out of the village walls, and I asked Zeedodan, “Where
to and how far?”
“With your legs, two days northwest,” he said with a grunt.
“Yes, we do not have the great stamina of the centaurs, but we do
have two skeletons to fetch you mares,” I said with a fake smile.
“Good, I need a mating partner. Fail, and the punishment is death,”
he said.
“I was waiting for the threat. Thank you for clarifying,” I said.
He continued into the unknown, walking a worn trail between the
growing pines. Feeling a mix of luck and of being a fool, I followed him on
the quest to grow his herd.
CHAPTER 16
Yabbi Farmlands
A boney hand grabbed my boot, stirring me awake. The gap in our
makeshift tent flap revealed it was in the dead of night with minimal
moonlight breaching the cloud cover.
I had managed to tell Jark to wake me if the two centaurs fell
asleep. On the first night, while we slept like babes, they rotated guards. On
the second night, same thing, but Jark stirred me, then quickly vanished.
Finally, I could get a private conversation in, especially after our
discoveries earlier in the evening.
We currently camped outside the Yabbi Farmlands, not far from
their villages. We had spent the evening scouting a few targets, none of
them having the horse Perqueta had described in detail.
The yabbi were a form of elves, just darker in nature with their
forest green hair and use of slaves. They built buildings, the same as a
human society. My expectations for a tree city were disappointed.
From what I could tell, the yabbi found themselves as a superior
race to others. I didn’t think if I asked for sanctuary they’d grant safety
because I had literally seen them whipping humans in a farm field just a
few hours earlier.
The males appeared as warriors with large horns and stern gazes.
The females were mostly mothers tending to slaves, and I saw some on
patrols. They used a lot of horses in lieu of slave labor. While I felt bad for
the humans and other species under the whip, the yabbi had a decent militia
even on these small outposts.
As morally wrong as seeing the slaves was, humans had the miscee,
and that was the only race I knew humans had subjugated on Nordan. That
probably explained why the centaurs were so uncaring about us too.
Getting to this point had been grueling, and we were kept under
constant surveillance. There was no doubt in my mind that I was a prisoner
with privileges, evident by our escort.
To make the trip more arduous, our pace was tediously slow for the
centaurs, and they refused breaks or second breakfasts. The duo grumbled
nonstop and would banter constantly about how weak we were.
This helped us get a few private words in, but not much else. The
more painful the trip became, the greater I swore to free ourselves of the
centaurs.
I reached into my bag, quickly handing Jark the charcoal pencil and
ledger. He fumbled with the tool but managed. I read his text to myself.
Five follow. One is always awake. Yabbi ripe for stealing.
I nodded, shooing him back out to go hunt for common animals.
Jark and Asha had been providing me with minimal Zorta to build my
reserves back up. For now, Asha was happy to carry out my tasks, never
being a grouch. I probably would suppress his angst until we escaped this
situation.
With five of the centaurs hot on our heels, I figured I had minimal
options.
We could kill the sleeping two, then fight the five and maybe even
kill them. Sneaking up on a sleeping centaur wasn’t the easiest of tasks
either because they had a great sense of smell and hearing.
We could also steal the mares, piss off the yabbi, and then force a
confrontation.
After mulling the options over, I came to a decision.
I stirred Beth and Tarla. They both groggily opened their eyes and
nodded when I put a finger to my lips.
“Follow my lead,” I whispered.
When I exited the tent, the rustling perked Zeedodan’s ears. I
relieved myself against a tree, and he walked over to join me.
“Did you get enough sleep for your weak body?” he asked with a
grunt.
“Yeah, the night is full. I’m going for the horses in the village we
scouted. After we bring you the new horses, we’re leaving. Your father will
have to understand,” I said defiantly.
I had let Bell walk over me a bit due to my naive nature of Nordan.
I certainly let this situation reach a point where my only chance to regain
control was now. Ah, yes, his hand goes to his dagger.
“I was worried you weren’t a necromancer and instead a spineless
dog. Father agrees to pay you little for a lot and will even release your
skeleton horses when we return with our new mares,” the Zeedodan
sneered.
“Excellent. I just need to upgrade one of my minions again, and this
time I need someone strong to hold him down,” I said.
“He breaks apart when you leveled him in our village,” Serriavian
said, questioning my need for help.
“Yes, well, it's a new level, new spell,” I said. “I don’t think my
females are stronger than you.”
This caused him to chuckle at the absurdity of a smaller woman
being stronger than a big centaur.
“Asha, come,” I said in a normal conversational tone. The magic
carried my words to his being, and a few minutes later he arrived carrying a
small forest owl type creature. “Ah, thanks. Tarla, ingest the Z please.”
I waited until the orb disappeared, and she smiled happily. I could
tell she enjoyed the sudden access to power that had been out of her reach
for so long.
“Asha, stand in this clearing. You’re going to struggle, and these
two centaurs are going to hold your arms,” I said, and he nodded. “Great.
It’s time to level up.”
His head only tilted in confusion for a moment before he obeyed
my commands. When he entered the middle of the clearing, the two
centaurs grabbed an arm each, waiting for him to fight their grip.
I concentrated with an inner mantra, using the Nordan language
instead of Ostriva. Serriavian might understand why I swapped the words in
the spell, but I doubled it.
“Life is Zorta, Zorta is life. Life is Zorta, Zorta is life. Life is Zorta,
Zorta is life.” I chanted while I focused on Asha’s body.
The skeleton craned its neck back fighting my efforts. When I
finally locked onto his spirit the body slumped.
You cannot revive the undead. You can remake them. This will
count as your daily revival per your level. Performing this act will earn
you Nordan points. Remake Asha the Minion into Asha the Elva
Minion - (YES) - (NO)
I selected yes hesitantly.
My fear of something extraordinary happening was warranted.
The heavens burst open, unleashing their golden might with a
single torrential smite. The power surged down and burst upon the body in a
blossoming of power. An orange hue grew out of the golden light,
enveloping Asha and the two centaurs holding him.
BOOM!
An explosive force washed over the area and created a clap so loud
my ears rang. The force pushed me back, and I fought to stay upright.
The three inside the blast flew outward, crashing hard in a tumble.
All of them groaned in the short grass.
“Kill Serriavian,” I whispered to Jark.
I sprinted for Zeedodan. His body boiled with magical burns from
my spell. I reached down, finding the hilt of the long dagger in his belt and
yanked it free.
His mind hadn’t realized yet what was transpiring.
The pain racking his body broke his ability to focus on anything
else. For a brief moment, I felt bad for him. And then I thrust his dagger
into where I figured his heart lay.
Zeedodan’s eyes flared wide as he suddenly realized death knocked
on his door. He glanced at the blade and then at me.
“But you’re a meek human,” he said in dismay.
I yanked the blade out, and he died a second later.
When I raced to Serriavian, I saw his eyes glazed over in death and
his body also coated in the weird burns that the resurrection had caused.
“Holy shit,” Asha said, stumbling in shock.
He glanced down at his hands, clearly confused as to what was
going on. Even I was surprised by his sudden transformation from his brief
skeletal form.
Yeah, he was Elva again. Almost. His body was elva, his skin,
muscles and tendons returned, and now he is very much not a skeleton.
However, he had all white hair and menacing black eyes with zero pupils.
“Sorry I had to suppress your memories earlier,” I said, and he gave
a terse nod. “We have time to catch up later. Five centaurs will be coming
soon and likely the village too. Bell, pack our tent, please. Jark, Asha, arm
yourselves. Tarla, cover me.”
“Yes, master. I shall exact revenge on those who tormented me so,”
Asha said with reverence.
He sped away at a rate I struggled to track, astonishing me even
more. Jark tried to keep up, racing after the modified elva. I had a short
dagger and was pathetic at combat fighting. It was something on my to-do
list of fixing.
I realized I had to trust them while I tried to raise my final minion.
I walked over to Zeedodan’s orb and sat cross legged. I closed my
eyes, found my center, and chanted with a deep voice, “Death becomes me,
I become death. Death becomes me, I become death. Death becomes me, I
become death.”
Yeah, I hate the words, but it’s an ‘adapt or die’ sorta deal.
I reached out and beat Zeedodan’s resistance aggressively. Every
time he tried to fight my retrieval, he failed. Only a minute later, I held
control of his soul.
Claim or Consume Zorta?
I selected Claim, and when it required six Zorta that I didn’t have, I
went to the consume menu.
Consume 6.302 Zorta (YES) - (NO) - (DROP)
I consumed the Z with glee. Finally feeling like I achieve a
milestone. This was the downfall of converting Asha into a minion. It had
left my reserves almost empty.
I shifted my ass, hearing the thundering of hooves approaching.
When I reached out to Serriavian, his resistance fought me and won
handily. A minute later and the sound of swords clashing rang loud.
The hairs on my arm rose, and a crack of lightning burst from the
nearby trees.
Shifting my attention, I tried again, digging deep into my core and
forcing out my vile chant again. Every bit of my concentration went into
fighting the spirit of the younger centaur.
The battle of will sparked magical auras high. This was my
battlefield. This was my purpose.
I exuded every ounce of power until Serriavian angrily broke his
resistance. I sighed in relief when his prompt arrived.
Claim or Consume Zorta?
Claiming the Serriavian Swifta as a minion will result in you
earning Ostriva points. Do you wish to proceed? (YES) - (NO)
You selected to claim: Serriavian Swifta. Consume 5.227 Zorta
to summon this centaur as a minion of the undead. This will incur 1500
Ostriva points. Do you wish to proceed? (YES) - (NO)
I immediately selected yes, rising to my feet. The soil below my
feet quaked until the dirt danced. As if the undead god was angry, a massive
ghoulish hand breached the ground and slammed down into Serriavian
Swifta.
The body smushed, turning into a pulp, and a second later, a
centaur skeleton remained.
“Defeat all foes, Sven,” I said, not wanting to butcher his name.
The centaur stumbled, snatching one of his knives off the ground. I
used the brief respite to see Bell running from a centaur casting a pink spell.
She lunged out of the way, the magic crashing into grass. The spell popped
with a crackle until it encased the spot in weird webbing.
Asha burst from the treeline and across the clearing. The elva
leaped high and slammed into the centaur’s upper torso.
The duo went down in a tumble, and Asha’s arms moved
inhumanly fast. The glint of blades told me he was driving daggers into the
centaur’s body.
A flaring orange light grew behind me, catching my attention. The
swirling mass of fire gave enough warning for me to flounder onto the
grass.
Twang!
Searing pain erupted in my ass, and I cried out. When I checked
over my shoulder, I confirmed what I figured had happened. An arrow
jutted out of my right butt cheek.
Whoosh!
Tarla sneered with rage, unleashing a fireball that smashed into the
centaur who had shot me with his bow. The humanoid strivian roiled in pain
as its skin melted. When he collapsed heavily with a thud, an orb hovered
over his body.
I heard Jark fighting in the background. Asha zoomed by us to help.
I yanked the arrow free and healed my ass quickly, feeling a wee bit
woozy, either from the pain or my mana levels.
“Retreat!” a voice called out. “Argh. Get off me you demon. Help
Tar-”
The voice stopped suddenly. A minute later, a second set of loud
deathly cries pierced the quiet night.
Asha, Jark, and Serriavian returned, unfazed by the fighting. Jark
handed me a broken pinky finger again, and I couldn’t help but snicker.
“Load him up,” I said, pointing to Serriavian. “I need you to cover
me while I try to abandon minions.”
I flicked a finger across my orb to turn on my Nordan menu. I
hastily messed with the interface.
The upgrade prompt blocked my way, and I quickly applied
upgrades to healer level, strength, constitution, willpower, cultivation, and
two points into melee combat.
Apparently, stabbing a downed foe gains good rewards.
Name: Damien Moonguard
Race: Human
Affiliation: Nordan
Zorta: 24.358
Nordan Score: 1100
Ostriva Score: 3100
Location: Lafin Valley
Magic Type: Healer
Healer Level: 4
Magic Type 2: Necromancer
Necromancy Level: 2
Necromancer Minions: 5/5
Fighting Level: Pathetic
Mana: 7/25
Mana Recharge: 3
Strength: 5
Stamina: 3
Dexterity: 3
Constitution: 5
Willpower: 5
Cultivation: 5
Intelligence: 25
Wisdom: 25
Charisma: 15
Tracking: 3
Endurance: 4
Perception: 6
Burst: 2
Reflex: 2
Healing: 3
Melee Combat: 4
Aim: 2
Hunger: 1
Thirst: 1
Aging: 47 years until death.
I found a back option and opened a new menu.
PROFILE STATISTICS.
MINIONS.
I selected Minions.
Serriavian
Asha
Jark
Horse 2
Horse 1
I selected Horse 1 and found no way of removing the being. I spent
the next three minutes not finding a way to unbind the trapped horse.
Making a command decision, I said, “Quickly extract the orbs of
the centaurs for later.”
Imagine my surprise when Asha channeled and broke the spirit of
the centaur he had daggered down.
“That was fast,” I blurted.
“Those you kill yourself tend to surrender quicker, already having
been defeated by you,” Asha said, and my jaw almost dropped.
I forgot that he was not some random undead being anymore.
Exactly what he was, well, I’d ask later.
“How do I get rid of the horses in the centaur village?” I asked.
“I’ve only read the texts. Flee a hundred leagues or manually touch
them to unsummon,” Asha said, retrieving another orb quickly.
Tarla showed up and said, “The village is stirring, and I’m out of
mana.”
“Done,” Bell said, patting Sven’s loaded frame.
“We need to get moving,” I muttered.
Asha handed Bell the orbs and turned to me, “Which direction do
you wish to travel?”
“Northeast,” Bell said, stuffing the orbs into a pouch on her jerkin.
“The dwarven holds?” he asked.
I frowned and said, “Yes, but not too close, though.”
I opened the bag for her to start stuffing the items into the case. At
least the bag was empty. Jark eagerly ran over, bringing me a bow and
arrow. Everything was happening so fast.
The others worked like professionals, and everyone glanced at me
for guidance.
I’d never been in charge of anything in my life before besides an
odd science project or during a study session. Literally, my existence
revolved around me the moment I had joined society as an adult.
Now... Now I was a champion, a new man. The changes felt
uniquely natural.
“Thanks, Jark. Can you fire this bow?” I asked.
He shook his head.
“I can,” Asha said, accepting the weapon.
I placed a hand on Jark’s shoulder and said, “Loot everything and
then race to catch up to us. Asha, take us to the northeast. Sven, follow
Asha’s trail. With any luck, we’ll get too far for others to pursue.”
With Sven loaded up, I glanced around, seeing a littered battlefield.
Somehow, I hoped crossing the centaurs wouldn’t cause problems.
CHAPTER 17
Yabbi Hills
Our party ran for the next twelve hours, desperate to be free of the
farmlands. After hours of charging through the woods, we turned onto the
old miners’ road. Not long after, Asha led us even higher up the
mountainside.
After some steep climbing, Asha picked a big ledge with a stunning
view to rest on. We collected whatever sticks we could and built up a fire
for a soup lunch.
We ensured the small area was secured and everyone besides Jark
and Sven relaxed. I set my skeleton duo to watch the trail up and down to
our location.
I adjusted, finding the stone ground against my boney butt lacking
comfort. The fire crackled, the midday sun beat down its summer rays, and
a cool mountain wind felt delightful.
From up on our ledge, I gazed out, seeing mostly trees stretching to
the horizon with the occasional cleared fields of former farmlands.
As my vision stretched across the landscape, I finally found the
demarcation line of Nordan and Ostriva. The area seemed to be at war with
natural vegetation from both planets competing for space.
The Ostriva section held more blues with darker greens, and the
trees were shorter. Maybe there was more coloration, but those were the
only differences that I could tell from this far.
“It was a tumultuous day,” Asha said in a solemn manner, seeing
where I gazed.
“What are you?” I asked, finally finding an opportunity to talk
without panting from exertion.
He chuckled, the others listening aptly as they plucked boots off. I
joined them because my feet ached endlessly. I did upgrade my stamina,
endurance, and burst quickly while he contemplated how best to answer.
“Since the water is going to take a minute, let me start with what I
know. I’m an elva, a relic of a forgotten time. Eons ago, my kind lived in
the valleys, reaping the natural wonders of Nordan. Humans came with
their destructive and loud ways which clashed with our culture. Where we
fled, they followed. On occasion, we fought, we won the battles, but not the
war,” he said, letting out a long and sad sigh.
“But that was well before the time of Karn,” Tarla said with furled
brows of confusion.
He nodded. “Indeed, it was. I was, and am, a very old elva. I’m
getting to what I am by going through who I was. Elva still exist, but we
keep our homes a great secret. Do not expect me to reveal where my kin
hide to this day.
“For ages, I lived a boring and dull life. That changed. I found an
unexpected lover recently. I was out hunting for Zorta to help our aging
population become young again. Against common sense, I heard a cry of
help and ran to their aid.”
“A trap, it's always a trap,” Bell said with a finger wag.
He shook his head, a wide smile on his face. In the daylight, he
appeared normal besides the white hair and the all black eyes. His hand
went over his eyes to shade them while he squinted. His skin appeared
vibrant and young. The big slice his neck had suffered just days ago was not
visible at all.
He continued, “Yes and no. Indirectly, yes. A young female yabbi
was caught in a centaur trap. Our species are similar and very compatible.
She thanked me for saving her under a waterfall closer to her home.
Sennoia did such a great job of thanking me, I came back for seconds.
“After a few months, we started trading with the two of us being
the connection. Finely crafted bows, horses, and even strivian slaves. In
return, we received Zorta. No, human, I’m not calling it Z.”
Bell opened and closed her mouth.
I chuckled and asked, “What went wrong?”
“Ah yes, the probability of odds. You can only venture out from the
safety of your nest so many times before fate arrives,” Asha said, his tone
souring. He covered his eyes from the sun in pain. “Can you Nordan heal
me, please? Not the undead kind.”
I frowned, not understanding.
“Heal me with Ostriva magic at night, Nordan for day. It will
change the effectiveness of my vision but cost you mana,” he said.
I closed my eyes and found his aura receptive to my interaction.
Elva Minion: Asha.
Health 27/27. Level 2.
Sapient Elva.
Fighting Abilities: Highly proficient.
Memories intact.
Upgrade Available. Consume 241 mana and 92 Zorta (YES) or
(NO)
Repair daytime vision: 3 mana of 17 available.
I finished the repair, and the spell was a quick golden aura around
his eyes. One second his eyes were all black, the next his eyes were natural.
Remembering my other minion, I dug the finger out of my pocket and sent
it to Jark for a repair. There went another two mana.
I really needed to figure out a weapon system that revolved around
me not relying on others because I had no offensive magic, and my spells
would consume mana often.
Asha waited for me to finish before he continued, “Thank you, and
sorry for the conversational interruption to fix my pain.”
“Ah, yes, nothing to it. It may not seem it, but I’m not a bad guy,” I
said with a sad tone.
He hid his reaction well, likely wanting to avoid offending me.
“I promise to continue, but you’re not what I expected for a soul
sucking necromancer. At this point I feel it's fairer for me to ask what you
are, exactly,” Asha said.
“I was a bookkeeper, a fairly mundane one, until a nice set of tits
and a big smile lured me into my current predicament. I promise I’ll try to
remember your vision problems. If I forget, hold up three fingers,” I said,
waiting for him to ask why. When he didn’t, I continued, “Return to your
story, please.”
Asha nodded. “Fate is fickle and Sennoia was my mistress.
Literally. I was also not her husband. Our secret rendezvous likely would
have never drawn attention if we both stuck to being the hunters we were.
The moment we became traders, well, everyone can trade. Finding a secret
meeting shifted to stealing longing glances at each other in her village.
“A few months into trading, and she slipped me a note. Meet at the
spot I’d rescued her. The note was sincere, and her lustful eyes spoke of a
desire I missed. I too was a sucker for a nice pair of baby milkers.” He
chuckled at his word play. “My mind was clouded by thoughts of pleasure
not rationale.
“When I arrived at our initial meeting spot, there was no double
cross or angry husband waiting for me. Instead, I stumbled upon ten
centaurs wrestling down a filly,” he said.
I snapped my fingers.
“A filly, ah, that’s what I was trying to think of before. I saw a colt
earlier, and the female variation confounded me,” I said with a frustrated
sigh.
An audible groan escaped Bell and even Tarla snickered out, “A
young female horse bothered you so?”
“Ah, I knew of a colt, but not a filly. Which bothered me as a word
connoisseur, but alas, I lived in a library and in a massive city, not the wilds.
Sorry, please continue,” I said.
“An elva is naturally fast. At least nine centaurs peeled off their
catch to chase me. Right away, I was hit with that damn pink spell from a
lucky shot. The one that binds you better than any rope. The only positive
was that Sennoia saw my apprehension and managed to flee without
pursuit.
“For the next six months, I waited to be rescued by my people or
hers. Let’s be honest, the centaurs are idiots with only minimal defenses.
Initially, I played the placated good slave until I realized I was only getting
out if I escaped. The centaurs... they’re fast, and after three breakout
attempts, I was stuck in a closet and confined with rope.
“Hope faded into abject horror. I succumbed to the reality that I had
been forgotten, not worth the risk of rescue. Then you showed up and the
inevitable happened, I’d been deemed worthy. My death sated their desires
to get rid of me and exploit you.
“The rest of the herd is probably resting safely in their walls, no
idea that we killed seven of their members. Honestly, you would have lost if
you didn’t pull off that sly move of resurrecting me while being held. Also,
the rebirth removed my suppressed memories and let the warrior in me
free.”
“I wasn’t sure it would work, and I’ve felt like I’d see the herd
charging down on us at any moment,” I said.
“I trusted you,” Tarla said with a smirk, her brown eyes playfully
lingering on me with puckered lips.
“Thanks. I… thanks,” I said happily.
“I lived with the centaurs for long enough to know that in a few
days they’ll notice no one has returned. They’ll be thoroughly confident in
their young. Eventually, a scout will follow our tracks, but they will vanish
among the rocky terrain.
“Once they lose our trail, the scout will report the loss of the war
party. You’ll be considered a mortal enemy of the herd, but you’ll also be
feared. Maybe, and I say maybe for a reason.
“My guess is Perqueta will blame the yabbi for his son's death to
save face. He’ll say you died too and then start a new scheme to get more
breeding females. The yabbi will not want to openly fight against
whomever killed the centaurs. They’ll likely chop up the bodies and use the
meat for their slaves.”
Bell cleared her throat, pausing to see if he continued. When he
didn’t, she asked, “You think they’ll avoid following us?”
“It’s safe to keep moving at a good pace, but yes, I think as long as
we stay up here with the problems of the mountains, they’ll stay down
there. Which, I’ll get to the issues up here in a moment, but I have to know,
what did you do to me, exactly?” he asked, staring at me.
I scratched the back of my neck and said, “I was kind of hoping
you would know the answer to that.”
“Ah, no. I obviously am unaware of what has befallen me. I’ve
studied magic over my lifetime, all that I could. When I became an undead
minion, that I understood. I also lost control fairly quickly.
“My memories and resentment of my fate faded until I became
happy to please you. That persisted, and my need to please is still tied to my
existence. However, I regained my memories, my flesh, and in almost all
ways my soul,” he said, with a sigh. “You know, besides the whole being
bound to perform your every whim. If you were to guess, what would you
say your magic did?”
I puffed my cheeks and let out a long exhale. “Well, I’m a
champion with two magics. I revived you without releasing your binding to
me. Let me start with this. I’m not directly ordering this, but hypothetically,
if I asked you to jump off this ledge, would you?” I asked, pointing to the
ledge we perched by.
The fall had to be a few hundred feet with a sudden stop.
“Yes. Do not mistake my visual appearance of an aged elva to be
anything other than a false truth. I’m dead and live at your beckon and
command. Your second magic is healing. A magus of life and death, the
first of its kind I’ve ever heard about. How extraordinary,” he said and
clearly meant it.
“Yes, learning as I go and trying to save my humanity at the same
time,” I admitted.
“Ah, you feel bad for killing the centaurs?” he asked.
Asha clearly was a man of learning. The elva still had flaws, not
too far from mine, and he did seem like he cared even if he was my
subordinate.
“I feel bad for walking into their trap. I shouldn’t, but yes, I feel
bad for deceiving them,” I said.
Tarla spoke up this time and said, “Hey Damien, I get it. I think I
do, anyway. Your ascended life was significantly different. However, we
both know the centaurs were not there to trade fairly. You never saw the
way the centaurs leered at us.
“We also never told you how they followed us to go pee so they
could watch. I think they knew better than to brag about how we would
become their pets, but they certainly showed their intent with their eyes.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I killed two centaurs in the
second fight, and I have zero regrets. I’m proud of you for wanting to
protect us. Your actions likely saved our lives.”
Bell nodded and added, “You picked the right moment to act, and to
be fair about our capture, we weren’t ready for the ambush, and that is on
all of us to learn. I should have been walking with a bow out. Same with
you, Damien.
“The positive is, we learned, and assuming we get new weapons,
we will adjust. Also, your army is growing more powerful. Asha is
extremely lethal with weapons when a foe is distracted. Finally, have you
noticed any changes in me?”
I had, but not on purpose. Privacy was not exactly easy in a small
tent with three people. The girls changed with me holding the tent flap
closed, and I didn’t peek. However, we kinda snuggled in a ball of warmth,
and I knew which lady was which in the dark. We didn’t have sex or even
share intimate touches, but we did touch.
“Yeah, your boobs are smaller, and your waist narrowed while
Tarla’s grew. I noticed last night but didn’t want to ask,” I said with a slight
heat in my cheeks.
Tarla blushed and Bell patted her shoulder with a giggle. “Caitlyn is
blessing us. I struggled to shoot a bow with my large breasts, and my
birthing hips made it hard to run. She has reduced my gifts while giving a
slight boon to her new disciple.”
Asha gasped. “You really are that close to the gods that they
directly alter you. The elva have abandoned them completely, decrying their
ways as blasphemy. We… My people are quick to scorn that which we
cannot rationalize.
“The gods turning Nordan into a battleground was terrible. And yet,
I persist through one of their divine creations, a champion of a god. Tell me,
which god did you volunteer for?”
I huffed out a scoff. “I didn’t volunteer. I want to protest and say I
was tricked. However, the goddess was actually very clear in her deal. I was
offered life after death for my parents. They died too young, and I’m here
risking everything to bring them back from the dead.”
“Really sweet when you think about it,” Tarla said, eyeing Jark.
“So, you’re not a chosen hero of your realm sent to help end the
tide of strivians and restore Nordan back to the way it was?” he rapidly
asked .
He clearly was disappointed, already knowing the answer.
“Nope, I merely exploit the world until I reach a goal for my
goddess, and then I ascend,” I said, not bothering to mention Earth.
“And me?” he asked. “What happens to me when you achieve your
goal?”
“Wait a second, Asha. Damien, you said, ‘Your goddess?’” Bell
asked.
I sighed, leaving my folded seat to stir the soup. It had boiled
enough that I pointed to the fire and said, “Probably best to put this out. Not
deflecting, but I don’t know what happens to those I bring back to life when
I leave. I don’t know if I can bring others or what. Something tells me
there’s always a price. If I take you to… ascend, it will likely be another ten
thousand Zorta.”
“And Caitlyn?” Bell asked inquisitively.
I shrugged. “I made a deal and will honor her extra one hundred
Zorta or a temple. I may not like my situation, and this will likely make a
few of you wince, but I prefer ravaging this world over being dead. Caitlyn
is my goddess and my way home. I’ve been through enough to realize this
is deadly real, and the gods are not to be trifled with.”
“I’m shocked,” Bell said, eyeing me down her nose in a new light.
She certainly was a devout believer herself.
I shrugged, shifting my focus to Asha. “I’m going to try something,
Asha. Is that okay?”
“I’m here to serve. Asking is unnecessary,” he said, using a
different voice.
“Asha, suppress your memories,” I said.
He jolted, eyes glazing over. “Command me,” Asha said in the
perfect minion monotone voice.
I reached out, connecting to his aura.
Elva Minion: Asha (Minion Name Reassignment Incomplete).
Health 27/27. Level 2.
Sapient Elva.
Fighting Abilities: Highly proficient.
Memories intact (Suppressed).
Upgrade Available. Consume 241 mana and 192 Zorta (YES) or
(NO)
“Asha, resume your memories,” I ordered.
“Okay, yeah, I know I have to obey you, but please, don’t lock me
inside my mind,” he said, and I deflated. “What?”
“I’m never going to be the good guy here, at least not one with the
impeccable moral high ground,” I said with a huff. “Jark, I saved. If he had
died earlier, I revived him, and then his sister died. We could have waited to
resurrect her. Instead, they died within minutes of each other, and I had to
pick. He seems grateful, and I don’t feel terrible, but I selected him to die.
That’s not okay. I will feel less awful when he is Human Minion status
though, hopefully.”
“Umm, what’s bugging you then?” Tarla asked, her freckled face
scrunched in concern. She fidgeted with the bark on her staff, worried about
my answer.
I pointed to Sven. “I’m good, and I’m evil. A ying-yang, amoral
hero, I guess. I can do good but not avoid being bad. Sven was a centaur,
not necessarily a bad centaur. Maybe he raped captives or young mares, but
I don’t know that, and pretending he was bad to justify my actions does not
make my actions right.
“My point is, I’m going to lock his mind away. He will be minion
Sven, our pack hauler, and do exactly what I say, when I say it. I have to get
over the fact that he will be trapped in his own mind and powerless. The
alternative is I release him and lower our combat and travel effectiveness. I
simply am not going to die to be the flawless hero.”
“Thank you for keeping my mind free. Sven is listening, even if he
is guarding the trail as ordered. He cannot betray you or your wishes.
Maybe when you smite him with a heavenly healing you give him a choice.
He may surprise you,” Asha said, and I nodded.
“Jark is super, Team Damien. He wants to know if you will let him
cast magic,” Tarla asked.
“Umm… wait, what?” I blurted.
Asha frowned and put a finger into the air. “We elva shunned our
gifts during the great cataclysm of two worlds merging. My species and I
have no magic. Even our rare children are born without the gift. However,
we became enhanced in our dexterity, endurance, aim, and other combat
stats. So that might have been their plan all along. My point is Jark will
probably have his magic as I have my enhanced speed, even if it is
degraded.”
“I can’t change Jark for another half day or so. We need to eat and
then get on the move again. I don’t want to sleep again until a few hours
after dark,” I said, accepting a bowl from Tarla. She kissed my cheek when
my hands were full, and I blushed. “Thank you.”
“You’re a good man, Damien. Don’t be so hard on yourself,” she
said, blushing as well.
Bell eyed the exchange, her hazels squinting with displeasure. “Do
you require sustenance?” Bell asked Asha.
“I do. I’m not undead anymore, merely reborn with a new purpose.
To serve Master Damien,” he said, and I cringed. “I’m with her. You’re not
the bad guy until you let it consume you. You must keep caring about doing
good. I have faith your goddess chose well.”
“That makes one of us,” I said with a grunt. “Where to next?”
Asha pointed to his chest to see if I was asking him.
He walked over to accept a bowl from Tarla and said, “After the
cataclysm, the dwarves consolidated. All the dwarven holds in this area,
which were many, are now empty with their inhabitants living to the north.
They used to war with everyone, including each other, and spread
themselves out. Now, they tuck into their halls, expanding their numbers
and biding their time.
“Trust me when I say the dwarves are to be taken extremely
seriously. At the same time, they are much like my elva den. Their desire
for safety has resulted in them not earning enough Zorta. They’ll trade
Zorta for anything, and I mean anything,” Asha said.
“Well, that has me intrigued. Except we’re light on Z at the
moment. Which, placing a pin in this dwarf thing. Tarla, Bell, I’m at the
point where I need…” I paused, checking my upgrades.
Necromancer Level 2 -} Necromancer Level 3 = 100 Zorta.
(YES) or (NO)
Name: Damien Moonguard
Race: Human
Affiliation: Nordan
Zorta: 1.922
Nordan Score: 1600
Ostriva Score: 7500
“We got a nice little team going, and I hope Horse 1 and Horse 2
die due to Perqueta’s fury at his loss. If not, they’ll be tied to me as slot
sinks. Basically, I need ninety-eight more Z to get to necromancer 3,” I said.
Tarla looked at Bell who nodded to her. “May we speak on this
later?” Tarla asked in a professional tone.
“Ladies, by all means. I’ll honor my dealings. My goal is not to
earn ten thousand Z while your hard work goes unrewarded. I… I couldn’t
revive Zeedodan, who had better stats, because I’ve been feeding you all
the Z, which is fair,” I said and left it at that.
I slurped down the last of my bowl. When no one continued, we
started putting our boots back on.
Asha said, “About the dwarven holds. We’re on the outskirts of
their former lands. A few leagues to the north is Treedun Valley. North of
that is Ikara Holds. They will have the dwarven armies deep under their
mountains.
“Naturally, their old, abandoned homes were always a favorite
hunting ground of mine when I would need some quick Zorta. Never went
deep because I just needed a bit of Zorta to meet my goals.”
He paused and waited to see if I would ask if his home was in the
mountains. Clearly, it was nearby.
“These dwarves, they won’t care if we go looting their old,
hallowed halls?” I asked.
“Ah, yeah. For a few decades, we figured they hadn’t completely
consolidated, just moved vulnerable citizens. However, our den traded with
a small clan of berserker dwarves who sold us Zorta for gold we mined,”
Asha said, likely giving away more information than he wanted to.
“Oh, then it's probably all been cleared then,” I said.
“That was twenty-five years ago. I have no idea what happened to
the clan. They told us only the great kings were restricting folks from
leaving. All were welcomed in, but none could venture out. Dwarves are
stalwart in their ways. The berserkers, there were only a dozen of them, and
based on the wealth we traded, they could easily have retired back in the
dwarven holds as nobles,” Asha said.
“Hmm, you’re recommending we hop around to these southern
dungeons and see what foul beasts rest inside?” I asked.
“Maybe. It depends. I do think you should at least make Jark into a
living minion first. Unless you have some better plan?” he asked.
I inhaled deeply, glancing at Bell.
She smiled and said, “The goal is to find a place we can grow and
trade openly. Maybe somewhere between human and dwarf lands.” She
paused with a ‘hold a second’ finger. “On the north side and months away
from Tarb. While one of these old holds fits that bill, we’re too close to
Karn’s Kingdom. However, earning some Z, if easy, well, that is exactly
what we need. We can maybe convert an old temple in one of the
abandoned halls to Caitlyn with a Z sacrifice.”
I smiled, seeing a plan form. The mad dash from last night had
been about escaping. I would still act as if we were being pursued, but this
was something more than simply endlessly running.
“Ah, I take it this goes full circle as to why the centaurs and yabbi
will avoid this region?” I asked.
“Yes, whenever there are big homes with no defenders ripe to squat
in, residents will move in. The cataclysm brought panic to the region, and
those below wanted to expand, including the centaurs. Which Perqueta’s
herd is, but a tiny fraction of the centaurs that roam the cataclysm lands.
The strivians brought untold numbers with them, and clearly a lot of them
were not afraid to venture into new homes.”
I clapped my hands together lightly and said, “We march until
nightfall and then camp to recover. In the morning, we start a new day
trying to earn more Z to improve our situation.
“Jark, clean up the firepit. Sven, pack the cooking pot after Bell
washes it. We got a long march ahead, and hopefully, the journey will be
worth the blisters.”
“Speaking of which, heal my feet tonight, please,” Tarla said,
batting her eyelashes.
The cheek kisses, the trust you’s, and her not so subtle hints let me
know. To be fair, I had spent two weeks being with Tarla every night and
day. We hadn't wanted to scream at each other, and she had grown on me.
Same with Bell. With the way Tarla eyed me, I thought she was starting to
push an issue - the girlfriend issue. There was no ‘the sex was great, see you
tomorrow’ situation here.
“Of course, I’ll not be remiss in my duties,” I told her, standing to
perform an awkward bow.
Even though the mood lightened somewhat, the moment we started
climbing up the mountain trail, we shifted to a focused determination. I was
going to dwarven holds of old, and I sure hoped cheerful gnomes giving out
free Zorta would greet us.
CHAPTER 18
Ikara Holds
“Alright, just to be clear, you think the big, scary looking cavernous
mouth is empty?” I asked with a huff.
“We won’t know for sure until I go in,” Asha said, making a good
point.
“Alright, give me a minute,” I said, heading away from the spooky
opening we had found.
I had continued to push us hard that day and even into the night. At
this point, we all had been awake for over a full day and were exhausted. I
figured hours ago we would come across a nice camping spot but had ended
up wrong.
About five minutes earlier, I had hit my refresh point to revive Jark,
adding to our issues. The problem was that we were on a narrow road, high
on the mountain, and the spell tended to explode energy.
I glanced back, seeing my weary party ready for rest. We all were
in a bit of a zombie mode. Feeling bad for pushing us so hard, I peered
backed around the mountainside to see the opening. The role of decision
maker rested heavy on my shoulders.
This isn’t a dwarven hold entrance. It does rest on the road, and we
passed the time for a break a few hours ago. Some risks have to be taken.
Since we were closer to the Ostriva line, Asha figured it would be
occupied, which left me hesitant.
“Fine, but if you encounter something huge, run it the other way,” I
said. “You want Jark?”
“Yes,” Asha said.
I bobbed my head in understanding. “Asha is in charge while you
two clear the cave.”
Jark’s skeleton smiled with a thumbs up. He was always so eager to
help. I wondered if he’d change when I restored him.
The duo stealthily left our hidden point behind the bend, creeping
in the dark toward the cavern.
I wasn’t in armor, had a centaur dagger I barely knew how to use,
and let my minions take the risk because they were… minions.
“I could have gone with them,” Tarla said.
The poor girl leaned against my side, eager for sleep. Bell sat, using
a rock as a pillow to rest her eyes and her head.
They didn’t judge me for pushing us so hard but were clearly
drained. I happened to think the centaurs and the yabbi were going to
pursue us, and in my mind, the further we went, the greater the chance
they’d give up on finding us.
I did command the skeleton horses to stand in place if they were
freed. That was one of the scenarios I had running my head while we
marched on; the centaur herd barreling down on us in a direct path because
of some passive setting.
Asha came jogging back. When he arrived, he said, “This is an old
camping cave. The good news is that it’ll work great once the site is
secured.”
“Where’s Jark?” Bell asked, getting to her feet.
Asha wagged a finger and said, “Yeah, the bad news. There was a
big spider in the cave that is trying to eat Jark. I need the fire mage … if she
would be so kind.”
“Just the one?” I asked.
“Uh, yeah, but it’s big, the size of a mumba,” Asha said, and I
frowned. “Water cow?”
“Okay, it's a big spider. Will the fire kill it?” I asked.
“Spiders tend to hate flame, but I’m not sure what kind this is. It
certainly won’t chase us unless we properly piss it off. Tarla can sling some
spells, and if it retreats away, we get the cave. If not, we keep going and
hope to free Jark somehow. Clearly, everyone is tired,” Asha said.
I slung an arm around Tarla and asked, “You ready for this?”
She smiled meekly and said, “Not the first time I’ve saved him
from a spider’s nest.”
“I’ll eagerly await the story. Asha, ensure my Tarla is protected,” I
said.
Tarla kissed my cheek, and I realized my verbiage slip just a bit too
late. I contained my yawn while watching them head into danger.
Bell walked to my side to join the observation. “You’re leading her
on,” she said.
“Yeah, well, she’s a good girl who doesn’t resent me,” I said
bluntly. “Sorry, I’m too tired to have this conversation. I respect you, Bell.
I’d be lost without you, and I’ll make it my goal to ensure you become a
head priestess.”
“Nice recovery, and I already told you, I’m able to move past that
my goddess rewarded you with my mother. She’s a goddess and clearly
manipulated the small brain in your small penis,” Bell said with a giggle.
I let her take the win, not wanting to get dragged into a dick
measuring conversation.
We watched Asha and Tarla approach the cave entrance carefully.
Tarla readied a spell before she exposed herself.
The colorations brightened on her hands, flaring red and orange.
The swirl of the tendrils against the dark night became hypnotic.
I tensed, not sure what to expect.
Asha ran out from behind cover to expose himself, two daggers up
and at the ready. From my safe position, I had no idea what he faced, but he
didn’t relax and stayed tense.
He nodded to Tarla.
The fire mage stepped into the opening with her spell at the ready.
Whoosh!
The flames left her hand and exploded brightly into something
close. The night came alive, and a fraction of a second later, a huge black
carapace slammed into Tarla.
She shrieked, and I jolted with a startle from the instant attack she
suffered.
Instinctively, my feet tore into a run.
I saw the spider shriveling in pain, taking Tarla down the
mountainous slope. Asha moved far faster than me.
He ran a few paces and soared in a high jump, landing on the
spider’s back.
Daggers plunged into the head, and Asha went for a tumble when
the large spider shriveled.
By the time I arrived at the scene, the fight had ended. I glanced
into the cave, noting no secondary tunnels or caverns. I saw Jark struggling
from a cocoon he was only half wrapped in.
I left him hanging - literally - to check on his sister.
She had survived the spider attack. That was the good news.
The bad news was Tarla’s head was twisted backwards again. That
girl needed stronger neck muscles or something because I didn’t even know
how she broke her neck this time.
Asha climbed the slope, grunting from the incline. He handed me
an orb when he arrived at my side.
“Twenty-seven Zorta, Master,” Asha said. “Sorry I failed you.”
“The spider is dead. I’ll just have to bring Tarla back instead of
reviving her brother,” I replied.
Bell put a hand on my shoulder and said, “If you revive her, her
affections will only grow. There is a reason that healers rotate. I want her to
be revived, but I’m just saying to be prepared for additional fawning.”
“No choice,” I said. “Take the Z from Asha. Asha, free Jark and
then set up camp.”
I went to the flattest area I could that wasn’t too far from Tarla and
sat down.
When the others left, I entered a chant.
My meditation to reach out Tarla’s orb resulted in an instant lock.
Resurrect Tarla Starski (YES) or (NO) - Selecting (NO) will
incur Ostriva points.
I selected yes. I braced myself, knowing what was coming. A
moment later, I could feel the golden rays of the heavens descend to
perform their magic. I peered out and regretted the decision.
Boom!
A force shoved me back, and I blinked at my night vision
vanishing.
I simply laid down on the slope, suffering from my idiocy. I wanted
to see her heal and her reaction to being saved again. I really hoped she
wouldn’t change.
“Damien wants us to set up camp,” Bell said. “You can talk to him
later. We need to talk about finances anyway.”
I heard the shuffle of feet leaving the area, and a moment later a
ninja sat beside me.
“I looked too. Just going to sit with you,” Asha said, sitting, and
then laying down beside me.
“That spider was a dick,” I said.
“Yeah, but it would have made a terrific minion,” he said.
I chuckled. “Wonder why it went all Rambo.”
“What?” Asha asked.
“Oh, yeah, Earth references will fall flat. The beast burst out of the
cavern super aggressively,” I said.
“It was dead the moment that spell hit. The wounds were mortal,
and it likely wanted to go one for one. Speaking of which, Tarla needs
armor. The dwarves will have some leathers, good stuff made from ram
hide,” he said.
“Hell, we all need armor. Sleep for now. Do I need to heal your
eyes?” I asked.
“Not something you can heal, but thanks. We played the situation
correctly. I failed by having a death but succeeded by claiming the cavern. I
stand by that decision,” Asha said.
“Besides armor, what could have worked better?” I asked.
“Not using one of your fighters as a pack mule. I’m not faulting
you because I said it would be simple, but we should have unloaded him
and stuck him in front of Tarla,” Asha said.
He had a point.
My vision slowly returned, and I rose to sit up.
“Learning,” I said. “We’re all learning, but we only get so many
mistakes. Maybe we take our fifty something Z and go straight to the
dwarves first.”
“Umm… I don’t know their rates, but after tonight… Yeah, a little
more preparation before tackling dungeons seems prudent,” Asha said.
The crunch of boots nearing told me we had a visitor.
Bell said, “We need armor and gear. We lost most of our supplies to
the centaurs and now if someone dies, we have to survive a full day without
having a second death.”
I smirked and patted the spot beside me. “We just talked about that.
We want to clear these mountains, but I’m also tired of being unprepared.
What’s our Z up to?”
She pulled a small ledger out of her bust then handed it to me. The
book's warmth elicited a chuckle. I thumbed the pages, crisp paper flicking
tightly together. I slowed, seeing notes about balance tallies.
Damien: 74 Z
Bell: 24 Z
Tarla: 37 Z
Reserves: 78 Z
I… ouch. “Are you ladies maxed?” I asked.
“Depends on her gains from the spider. Plus, we probably have
more from just constantly pushing ourselves. However, for me, not exactly
able to get many level gains with our lightning mage being a skeleton,” Bell
grumbled. “Most of the morning trophies have been filling my purse. The
centaurs, and now this spider, will make a big difference.”
“Alright, 75 Z to spend with the dwarves, assuming they allow us
to trade. That seems like a decent amount,” I said.
“It's a fortune to us, but I don’t know what the holds are like these
days,” Asha said.
“How far?” I asked.
“At a gentle pace? Three weeks through strivian territory. The flip
side to this equation is, twenty-two more Zorta, and you can unlock another
tier of minions,” Asha said.
“Dammit, we just said we’re underprepared. I literally have a
dagger, Bell has a crude bow, I have no armor, and well, the list goes on,” I
said.
“You’re the boss, but you gotta ask yourself, what is better?
Crossing that valley with ten or fifty minions or three?” Bell asked.
“You think we should cross?” I countered with a question of my
own.
“I do. It puts distance between us and any pursuit, and if we need to
fight, we fight toward safety. This way, at least when we get to the north,
we have Z to spend too,” Bell said.
I could see perfectly fine again and realized I had come to a
decision.
“Short sleep. We will break camp at dawn,” I said.
“Well, that wasn’t my intent,” Bell said with a scoff, clearly
wanting to sleep in. “However, I think it’s wise. I really fear this area and
find we’re not ready for most of the challenges. I’ll sit here and talk with
Asha while you sort Tarla. I agree with her plan, by the way.”
She grinned. I left the two of them. Walking up the slope for the
cavern, I saw the spot where Tarla had died. The heavenly revival magic
has scorched her blood away, leaving no trace of her earlier demise.
The gods clearly enjoy this planet’s unique ways. Is it wrong that I
do too? Should I be grateful to them Tarla is alive? Or upset that she died
to an invasive alien spider?
I mulled over these thoughts, seeing Jark and even Sven wave as
they unloaded our gear. We were missing the bearskin rug and only had one
blanket. Hence, why our nights, even during the summer evenings, were
balled up.
Tarla hummed a tune, setting up our single pillow and bedding. I
sat down, plopping my boots off.
“Sorry,” she said. Her mouth trembled and her eyes soured, ready
to spill tears. “I’m…”
The switch flipped from happy humming to crying at my mere
proximity. I snatched her wrist, yanked her into my lap, and stroked her
hair.
Jark couldn’t harm me, but he did appear concerned, well, for a
skeleton’s body language anyway. When he saw his sister folded up in my
arms, he gave a terse nod of approval before going back to work.
After she cried for a few minutes, she said, “Thanks. Dying really
sucks. It broke my neck, and I’m thinking I should get a guard or
something.”
“Yea, armor is the plan. So, these finances,” I said.
“Oh, we wanted to prioritize upgrades instead of equal splitting.
Five more minions or whatever necromancer three will give is better than
me having the ability to have one more mana. Basically, we try to be fair
and at the same time we talk about it,” she said and continued to stroke her
hair.
“If I asked you out for tea in the morning, what would you say?” I
asked, adding a hum.
“Yes, even before my first revival, a simple tea as a couple would
have garnered a yes. However, I figured you were the type who gets his
stick wet and runs,” she said.
I chuckled and said, “Odd way to phrase it, but yea, I’m changing.
Taking things slow seems right.”
We didn’t say anything else after that, and I don’t know how long
she let me rock her because at some point, I fell asleep sitting up.
CHAPTER 19
Ikara Valley
“Again,” Jark said, happily.
Three days had passed since the night of the cave. We had spent, at
most, six hours sleeping each night and had pushed hard to the north. A few
things had changed for our group.
The first being me. My knees had started to hurt. I used three
quarters of a Zorta to dial my age down to mid-twenties, and my body
thanked me for it immediately.
The next was that I revived Jark. He apologized so many times, I
had to order him to stop. The reality was, his existence ended when he
betrayed us, and now, he was literally a new man.
“Last one so I can still fight if we have to,” Bell said, worrying
about her mana levels.
Asha held the rabbit in place, waiting for the right moment.
Bell swirled her arms erratically, chanting, “I summon you forth,
golem of mine! I summon you forth, golem of mine! I summon you forth,
golem of mine!”
Her animated hands swirled faster with water droplets building off
them until they trailed streaks. A blast of blue light brightened the canopy.
Her hands gushed water, and when the brightness faded, a water golem
lumbered as if confused.
“Seek the rabbit,” Bell said, pointing to the creature Asha released.
The golem sprinted with a surprising burst of speed. It caught the
bunny only for the creature to escape through its soft, watery skin. The
golem shrunk as the body compensated for the lost mass.
A jolt of electricity surged from Jark’s hands and into the golem.
This time, when the golem dove, the bunny didn’t shoot out of the grasp. It
jerked with a seizure and a creepy squeal until the body stilled.
“Yes,” Bell exclaimed with a tempered voice. “Level seven water
mage. I only need a hundred and twelve Z to go to eight.”
“Sorry, I was slow. The water only holds the electricity for so
long,” Jark said, feeling guilty.
Tarla patted his back and said, “Great job. You two are really
syncing together. This is why you’ve been practicing.”
The duo smiled while Asha retrieved the orb. He gutted the bunny
then rapidly worked to prepare our lunch.
I walked over to Sven and asked, “You ready to be you again?”
He shook his head no, and I respected that decision for one simple
reason. Jark and Asha had to sleep now. He did not. He happened to be
good at guarding at night, carrying our gear during the day, and staying
mute during his tireless efforts.
“Thanks for your…” My voice faded.
An invisible brick wall hit me hard. I staggered, swooning from the
impact. When a second wave hit me, I collapsed.
One second I was talking to the skeletal centaur, the next I was on
the forest floor hurling breakfast into a pile of leaves.
The rest of my team rushed to aid me. The dizziness overwhelmed
me until I forced my eyes closed while continuing to dry heave. Finally, I
flopped onto my back to suffer.
“Master, are you alright?” Jark asked, his scuffing feet telling me
he ran to aid me.
“I see no threats,” Asha said, an edge of determination heavy in his
voice.
The dizziness slowed and then abated. The tingling of the orb told
me to check it.
I ran a finger over my belly button and a prompt hit my closed
eyelids.
Minion Horse 1 and Minion Horse 2 have died. Penalty one
hundred mana. Penalty one hundred mana. You have hit 0 mana. Mana
exhaustion initiated for two hour and forty-seven minutes. You have
one hour to rebuild your minions. You may use Zorta to restore your
mana.
“Uh… I need three hours of protection, or I need to use Z to restore
my mana. Secure the area and rest. Let me suffer mana exhaustion in
peace,” I muttered.
“What happened?” Bell asked with concern.
Tarla wiped my face clean, and then stuck my head in her lap.
“The skeletal horses died. There’s a mana penalty for a minion’s
death. Apparently, I can rebuild them, but there was no option on how to do
so,” I said with a groan. “Plus, I only have an hour and no mana for almost
three.”
“Rebuilding is probably healing them bit by bit, but that’s a guess.
Your mana grows when you upgrade your main magic skills. We all need to
grow in power, unfortunately,” Asha said.
This tied into Jark’s struggles. He ended up being returned to life
from being a skeleton. He even could cast magic. Unfortunately, it was
super weak and was dependent on the level I raised him to. With sixty
something more Z, I could make him a tier three minion.
Improving him improved the group. However, everyone was
leveling right now. Everyone needed Z, and we were all hoarding it for
trading. I never knew if the sixty Z required would yield a worthy
investment because the system never told you what the next level
unlocked.
Magically, bringing Jark back to life was a huge downgrade from
when he was a skeleton. The skeleton never slept, didn’t alert prey he was
coming, and yeah, it didn’t flirt endlessly with Bell.
I had been getting closer to Tarla, and Bell was able to select her
lover without my approval. It’s just, he literally followed her around like a
lap dog, and the fact I told him to take her orders didn’t help.
I let the minor drama of our party’s dynamics help pass the time.
The message sent from the centaurs was clear. They knew I had betrayed
our agreement and were angry enough to kill my minions.
Which, minus the massive ass kicking fatigue, was a good thing. I
really needed more skeletons. I kinda missed them.
Yeah, I never figured I would welcome being a necromancer, but it
certainly had its perks. I just needed to figure out how to be useful besides
as a minion commander. I never really read too many history books on war.
Sure, I had studied the odd book, and more than a few of my
fantasy favorites included great roman type battles, but I had no idea how to
apply that to my current situation.
An hour later, my migraine subsided slightly. I flicked my orb to
retrieve my stats and upgrade what I could. After pumping up more
attributes due to physical exercise of jogging and walking, I realized that I
too had run out of Z.
Name: Damien Moonguard
Race: Human
Affiliation: Neutral
Zorta: 0.058
Nordan Score: 4600
Ostriva Score: 7500
Location: Ikara Valley
Magic Type: Healer
Healer Level: 4
Magic Type 2: Necromancer
Necromancy Level: 2
Necromancer Minions: 3/5
Fighting Level: Pathetic
Mana: -140/25
Mana Recharge: 3
Strength: 6
Stamina: 5
Dexterity: 4
Constitution: 7
Willpower: 6
Cultivation: 6
Intelligence: 25
Wisdom: 25
Charisma: 17
Tracking: 3
Endurance: 6
Perception: 6
Burst: 4
Reflex: 4
Healing: 5
Melee Combat: 4
Aim: 2
Hunger: 1
Thirst: 1
Aging: 59 years until death.
My affiliation had swapped to neutral, I added twelve more years to
my life, and my base stats were rising quickly. I kinda felt like the easy
gains were over but who knew.
Ten thousand seemed like such a low number to get home,
especially when the rumors said a champion was worth ten times that.
Maybe Caitlyn offered me an easy deal because she didn’t believe
in me. She did mention this was hardly worth her time. I was fairly certain
there were going to be strings dangled in front of me if I became successful.
Hell, I’d do that to me.
“Ugh, he ignores me completely,” Tarla grumbled.
I opened my eyes, seeing her lovely, freckled face inches over
mine. Her browns stared down with caring.
This was something I’d avoided normally, letting a woman dote on
me when I turned ill.
“Drink this slowly. It’s nothing but simple water,” she said, and I
sipped her cool offering. Her eyes shifted to watch Jark and Bell talking
about conjoined magic. “What’s your plan if they run off?”
I painfully smiled and said, “Talk later.”
Explaining to a woman that she needed to let her twin go didn’t rate
high on my priorities list at the moment. Plus, she was overreacting. Jark
would die if he and I separated too far.
I had a feeling this was how Harvish controlled his scouts in that
story. It would make sense for me to be able to send my minions on
missions, just not across the world.
Tarla hummed to me, stroking my hair. Even though I roiled in
misery, I found myself in a little bit of heaven. I also learned a super
valuable lesson. If a minion died, they died. Unless I leveled up a lot and
built up my mana pool.
Seeing as how my wisdom, intelligence, healer, and necromancer
levels had all stayed the same recently, my mana remained flat. In order to
increase my mana, I needed a whole lot of Z.
And so, the cycle continued, for all of us. I didn’t even know what
upgrading Asha would do either. The system sucked at giving me
information dumps, and for once I wished one of my movie monologues
would spew out a bunch of information. I had to believe there were guides
and books that would help me. I just needed to find them.
Bell seemed to believe that once we had a temple going Caitlyn
would be able to visit and answer questions.
The next two hours passed with me hating life but enjoying Tarla’s
presence. I learned a valuable lesson, and if I had to guess, riled the anger
of Perqueta. The question running through my mind was whether he would
abandon his home to try and exact revenge?
CHAPTER 20
Ikara Valley
Those scenes in the movie where the adventurers sat at the edge of
a clearing watching a large valley from above? That was me. I was
transfixed by the sight before me.
Nordan was different from Earth. If I was to summarize Nordan, I
would say it held a grandeur aspect. Trees were bigger, mountain ranges
larger, and even the bears were huge. This theme repeated itself in a fantasy
setting that I could relate to.
In Ostriva, at least in this section that had been transposed by the
gods, the vegetation and animal life had remained on par with Earth.
However, my summation of Ostriva was: colorful.
Grass grew blue with purple tips. Vegetation sprouted in rainbow
effects. A flock of birds carried an array of parrot colors. Everything was
different in a myriad of ways and so very alien.
A small lake rested in the middle of the clearing we stared down
upon. Large lily pads obscured most of the water. A small herd of unicorns
drank from the water's edge. A large alpha watched over the process,
constantly on the alert.
Not far away, a hippo type animal sunbathed.
Where there’s water there’s life. So alien, so very, very alien.
We waited on our hill, keeping a low silhouette while Sven and
Asha scouted. Today was the big day. Getting across the valley would mean
another week in Ostriva lands.
“I miss baths,” Tarla said quietly, gazing down upon the water.
“I don’t think that lake is safe,” I said quietly.
Jark watched our back from the trees behind us while he set up a
midday camping spot. He finished the hideout with leafy fronds over the
top. Sticks encircled the canvas, and he did a good job making sure the spot
blended in as if it were just another bush.
After Jark finished, he crouched, walking his way over with a
waddle. “They’re coming back, and Sven’s carrying something.”
We hunched over and retreated into the trees to see what the scouts
had uncovered.
The trees here were still from Nordan with their towering height
and large roots. We found a nice alcove that Jark had built off and went into
our hiding spot.
A moment later, Asha appeared with a frown. Sven tightly carried a
live jungle cat the size of a dog. The animal clawed and bit at his bones, but
Sven let the animal entertain itself while he kept it from fleeing.
“Uh… what’s that?” I asked.
“Live animals fetch great trade,” Asha said.
I stared at him flatly.
Bell chuckled and said, “The dwarves are a week or two away.”
“Well, there’s a massive minotaur city not far to the north of the
lake. I’ve been there before, and it was easy in, easy out. I really think we
should go in there to trade,” Asha said.
“Aren’t minotaurs exactly what we should be avoiding? And
couldn’t this just be a loose pet they don’t care about?” Tarla asked while
pointing to the large cat.
“We can kill it and avoid the minotaurs,” he said with a shrug. “It
should be at least half a Zorta. Or it would make a great critter hunter. Small
animals add up over time.”
“Facing the water, the minotaurs are which way?” I asked.
“To the right. To the left was an old settlement of lizard people, I
think,” Asha said.
I hung my head, not loving having to make the hard decisions.
“Bind the cat. If we can use it to barter, great. If not…” I let the sentence
hang.
“I recommend we trade the cat,” he said again. “What else do you
have in the bag? They use Zorta as a currency, and careful, they call it
Zorta, not Z.”
“Okay, that’s different from trading some animal. Look, I don’t
want to go into a strivian city and end up prisoners,” I said. “I’ll be quick to
admit that I know nothing of what we would encounter. As for the bag, it’s
empty, unfortunately. The book of the gods was allowed to stay, but
everything else was removed and is now long gone.”
“Bring that to trade also. You, me, and the centaur could go in. The
fact he is undead and still a skeleton will be beneficial. I’ve traded with
them before, but they’re the opposite of my den. Minotaurs come by Zorta
easily. While they still trade in it, other items are more valuable,” Asha
said.
Tarla gazed at me hesitantly and asked, “What do they have worth
trading for that the dwarves don’t?”
“We would trade finely crafted battleaxes for… servants, meat, and
Zorta,” he said.
Even the elves of Nordan are slavers. This realm is so brutal to life.
“They don’t just kill those who come to their city?” I was a bit
confused.
“Minotaurs are fighters, but they have societal rules that glue
together a bit of Ostriva society. Before the cataclysm, they were a ruling
species and they still are. Just like the yabbi, they build, nurture their young,
conquer their enemies, and trade openly. They may not be good guys, but
they certainly aren't rabid, ruthless beings without thought,” Asha said
without being condescending.
“Alright, how safe is this shelter?” I asked.
“Very safe. Jark did a great job. There’s no game trails nearby or
any reason to come to this spot. If I wasn’t drawn to you through our link,
even I would have missed this small space,” Asha said.
I need to take the risk it seems. “You three stay here and give me
ten Z,” I said. Bell, Tarla, and Jark’s eyes went wide. “Asha can’t betray me
intentionally. We could use some food, a tent, and a second blanket. Plus…
Two more minions. Think about how much Z income we lost from going
down to a single skeleton hunting.”
“I trust you,” Bell said with a smirk.
This time Tarla growled in frustration.
I leaned down and softly kissed my fiery redhead on the lips.
“Hey,” Jark said, and Bell slugged his arm.
“You three behave. I’ll be back soon. If I die, Jark dies, and you’ll
know to head back to Tarb,” I said with a playful brow bounce.
“Not exactly helping,” Jark said, folding his arms.
I snickered and said, “I miss the strong, silent skeleton.”
“Jerk,” he said half-heartedly.
“This is a good time to catch up on some sleep.” I retrieved the
gods’ book out of the bag and Bell frowned but didn’t say anything. “We’ll
be back soon.”
Asha and I exited the small hiding spot, walking away from the
trio. The tall trees enclosed us, and only a few feet away, I lost sight of their
cover.
“Alright let’s go over some basic etiquette. You’re human, they’ll
care and they won’t. You piss someone off, show them your traders’
necklace. Most will probably find you amusing and ignore you as an
inferior, which, be honest with yourself, you’ll weigh a third of a minotaur
with a tenth of their strength. Don’t leer at the females, they go bare
breasted or in armor. There is no in-between and it's natural, the moment
you fixate on their milkers you offend,” he said.
“Haggling?” I asked.
“Yeah, of course,” Asha said with a hint of dismay. “I can
negotiate, and it's best if I do. I’ll pretend to be your guide and stick with
the ‘I was abducted’ story. It's weak, but not too far-fetched. Oh, only say it
if you absolutely have to.”
“Could we not fit in here?” I asked, and he frowned. “As in, living
here. If the Z… Zorta is that good here, then maybe it's exactly where we
need to be.”
“Uh, no. They’re a hyper-sexual race. Most strivians rule off their
baser instincts; reproduce, dominate, gain wealth. Generally, in that order.
Bell and Tarla would cause a lot of strife,” Asha said. “Even I find them
attractive, they are altered by the goddess.”
I processed this and decided it was fact. “Um… Hey, so you
seemed really confident the ladies would be safe,” I said.
“Yeah, they will be. There’s no tracks going uphill at all. The
minotaurs revere their strivian lands and only venture out of them in armies.
The hunting is bad up top compared to inside the Ostriva jungle. I mean,
you saw the lake teeming with life.
“This next week, our travels won’t be endless miles of forest. The
Ostriva landscape just provides so much more life with every tree bearing
fruit, every bush bearing berries, and every flower having nectar or sugar,”
Asha said.
We walked down a slope, crossing the line of dark brown dirt and
arrived at a rich purplish soil.
It was exactly as Asha said; lizards hopped between branches like
flying squirrels, a small hawk dove onto a large dragonfly, and I felt the
worms shifting beneath my feet. Everywhere I looked, life went about their
day trying to survive the Ostriva jungle.
“Whoa, they’re going to be loaded with Z,” I said in wonderment.
“Yeah, the strivians are divided. Their great equalizer is that they
have in abundance what the humans crave. It sets up for the perfect reason
to war,” Asha said, leading me around an extra-large hole in the ground.
“Tarkaworms can kill but rarely go for something our size.”
“How did Sven catch the cat?” I asked.
“Oh, it jumped on him. He asked for you to officially change his
name so that he won't hear you degrading his birth name. Or to use his
proper name,” Asha said.
I glanced over at the taller centaur who cradled the cat. To be fair, I
had forgotten his name.
“Tell you what,” I said with a pause, pulling up his minion data,
“Serriavian, I’ll let you be you, but try to see if there is a shorter variation
you like.” The skeleton’s head shook no. “No shorten then, I can respect
that. Ser-riav-ian. I will try to remember.”
We followed a trail, alert and aware even if we talked. I did feel a
bit better about leaving the ladies when we walked for a solid hour. This
city certainly wasn’t near to where they rested.
A minotaur approached, walking in our direction, and I stiffened.
The beast towered over us, at least twice my height. His muscles bulged and
large horns jutted out with sharpened points.
Scars traced his body, and he stared down his snout at us as we
neared. His armored kilt likely weighed more than I did, and a battleaxe
taller than me jutted off his back.
Instead of passing us, he stopped and said, “A human slave and a
centaur minion, you intrigue me, yabbi.”
“Actually, I’m the necromancer, and he is my elva guide,” I said.
The minotaur snorted out a loud exhale and eyed me like I was
crazy. “Ah, the yabbi and elva are cousins, or so my history lessons say. A
human necromancer.” He paused, shifting his frown into an amused smirk.
“What could you possibly want?”
I had erred greatly in my assumption of what a minotaur was.
Luckily, I figured it out quickly. Minotaurs were not dumb brutes, not this
one at least. His words were somewhat refined, and his folded arms and
smug gaze told me he enjoyed a break from the monotony of life.
“What’s that thing worth?” I asked, thumbing the cat. “We have
Zorta,” I used the full term, “but I take it that’s not worth much here.”
“Wise deduction. Come, the cat is great for the arena. We can trade
Zorta or supplies for it. They’re known for clawing those they hop onto
until one of the two dies. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you're lucky it
didn’t kill you, and jumped on your minion,” the minotaur said.
Feeling we missed a step, I said, “I’m Damien, and not only would
I like to trade for basic supplies, but a guide through the valley would be
nice too.”
“Oskatriver. Trading with the dwarves?” he asked, taking a guess
with the minimal information I had given him. We came from the south and
there were only dwarves to the north.
“Yes, I need a long-term trading partner as my power grows,” I
said.
“Plenty of trolls, ogres, and gnolls around the dwarves. Good
fighting that my kind generally avoids, including myself. Takes too much
time away from my studies and watching the arena. Hmm…” he said,
mulling something over. “What’s this one worth to you?”
“Serriavian, uh, depends. He was plotting to kill me, but I beat him
to it, and now he’s been a good minion,” I said.
“Let me introduce you to Xastriban first,” Oskatriver said. “Locals
call it Stri City or just Stri.”
We followed him through thinning trees until we escaped the forest
type jungle.
The terrain shifted into fields of a large oat being harvested. The
workers obviously weren’t minotaurs, and it was easy to understand why.
Massive guards watched the smaller ratkin, trolls, goblins, gnomes,
humans, elva, yabbi, dwarves, and many other mythical type creatures as
they toiled.
In a straight melee fight, a minotaur probably could best a few of
the smaller species at the same time. It made sense for them to be rulers as a
plentiful, articulate, and strong race. The workers appeared well-fed and in
decent clothing. None bore marks of abuse or signs of damage.
“Where’s the troublemakers? The workers seem so well
mannered,” I said.
“Ah, new to a minotaur city?” he asked, knowing I had just given
myself away.
I nodded and stuck to my silence instead of trying to justify a lie
about being captured.
“The arena,” Asha said. “Troublemakers fight to the death here.
They get revived until they learn their lessons or stay dead. Most cue in
pretty quickly.”
I nodded, understanding this and wanting to keep my mouth shut.
We walked through the fields, heading for a tall palisade made of Nordan
trees. Eventually, we arrived on a north south road. A river that likely fed
the lake to our south cut through the city.
Xastriban certainly reminded me of a medieval city from outside
the walls. It stank, smoke drifted high, and an infestation of a pigeon type
bird filled the skies. This was likely the slums, filled with a whole lot of
nastiness, and when I was able to peek on the inside, I saw more of what I
had expected in Tarb.
“I see your eyes judging my home. We’re going to the open city.
There’s three sections; our homes, made of stone and cleaned daily, and
then the wooden hovels of those we conquered. You do not warrant the
honor of visiting our estates and rightfully so. In between the poor and the
rightful, there’s a middle trading zone with an arena. We keep the blood,
gambling, and cheaper market outside the main walls.
“You are a neutral. I hear it in your voice and sense it in your care
for a conquered enemy. I think you should take my deal and flee before
someone less courteous than myself kills you,” Oskatriver said. His voice
certainly sent my hairs on edge with his warning.
I grunted and asked, “Your offer?”
“The cat will get you a hundred Zorta,” he said, and I barely held in
my surprise. The cat could only be worth a Z or two if slaughtered and
cultivated.
“Told you,” Asha snickered.
“Yes, they’re little devils, and the only reason it is being calm is
because, well, look,” Oskatriver said, pointing to the feral cat gnawing on
the skeletal arm of the centaur. “You fight him. Five hundred Zorta for the
centaur to fight as well.”
I almost blurted 'deal’ when Asha laughed. “Please meet us halfway
at least. It would be unbecoming to trick my employer so badly.”
“I could meet you at nine hundred, but I won’t. I’m not in the
mood. Six fifty for the cat and the centaur,” the minotaur stopped, looming
over me. When Asha went to talk, the minotaur flicked him in the forehead.
“That’s my offer for you. Take it or leave it.”
“I’ll accept, but I’ll want more next time,” I said.
Oskatriver turned to Asha and said, “That is how business is done.”
Asha wisely stayed silent, and we followed the minotaur into the
conquered section of town. From the tops of buildings, inside towers, and at
intersections, a common theme repeated itself. Guards carried big
crossbows to ensure the conquered stayed compliant.
I glanced down, seeing dried muck that occasionally exposed
cobblestones. Hovels was an appropriate way to describe what I saw.
Wooden structures with thatch roofing. Twine bound the vertical logs into
one wall with mud closing gaps. Doorways were left open, and the doors
were without hinges, merely resting against a wall.
The mostly empty streets lacked vendors, and I saw only a few
minotaurs in this section wearing armor. The guards eyed us and fixated on
Serriavian. If I had to guess, seeing a skeletal minion was rare for them.
I played the situation the best I could, striding confidently beside a
minotaur and an undead centaur. A few thoughts raced through my mind
while we walked through the city toward a stone wall in the distance.
I happened to be in a minotaur town that was evil while still being
civilized. I passed a well with a line of slaves and a guard picking his snout
in boredom. A turn revealed a set of gallows in a central intersection.
A burn pit wafted out nasty stenches that threatened to turn my
stomach. And yet, all this felt normal now. As if my mind forgot I needed to
cope when seeing a goblin tossing shit into a fire pit.
The goblin’s smooth skin held strips like a jungle cat. The olive
green had sections of horizontal blacks and the sight amused me that they
weren’t bright green with boils.
The other thought bouncing around in my mind was, screw
Serriavian. I tried to be nice, I did, but at the same time, he was literally
sent to kill me. Even if we were on the verge of a friendly minion master
relationship, I needed Z, and badly enough to toss him into an arena to die.
“Hey, so when he dies, and I promise he’ll fight well, I’ll hit mana
exhaustion. I would assume there are assurances to my safety while I need a
moment to recover,” I said.
Oskatriver shrugged and said, “You’re not a citizen. Even though
you’re here to trade, you do so at your own risk. Normally, you would get a
trader’s necklace at the first guard point, but you're with me. Still, if a
minotress deems you’ve eyed her figure for too long and decides to crush
your skull, it is within her right.”
“Ah yea, well, is there an inn for me to watch the events from?” I
asked.
“Smart, but again, you’re with me. I want to see what your skeleton
can do,” Oskatriver said. “If it does well, and I let you die, you’ll never
come back.”
“So, out of curiosity, besides arena competitors, what else do you
value?” I asked.
“I knew I liked you,” the minotaur said with a snort and a head
shake, as if teasing me. “Me, books. Ladies, silk. Metal for weapons. Silk is
the lightest though and -”
He paused when I pulled out the text about the gods.
His eyes followed the small, leather-bound book with hunger.
“Content?” he asked.
“The thousand gods humanity believes in or have discovered, their
boons roughly transcribed, and miracles since the cataclysm. It's a hasty
transcription,” I said, handing him the book. “I found a few errors.
Surprised there’s no duplication magic.”
“Ah, the crux of the issue of literacy, spreading the good word. No,
it requires time, something I have infinite amounts of. I have this copy,
stolen from a raided caravan up north. Fifty Zorta, and I promise most will
go for more,” he said.
“I accept, mainly because my father had a saying. Business is about
partnerships and forming them is the hardest aspect. You’ve now given me
a true purpose to return to your fine home besides to win in its arena,” I
said.
He roared in laughter so loud the guards around us gave us second
glances.
He patted my shoulder roughly, and I stumbled in our walk. The
minotaur said, “Smart human, that father of yours. Getting through the
valley is not going to be easy, and no, a minotaur won’t guide you. Buy a
korb and have them help you through their turf, then turn them into a
minion after, or before.”
Asha knew I would be curious and said, “A korb is a four-armed
orc. Fierce and dumb. Easily tricked in battle. However, with you as his
master, the minion will act based on his level.”
We stopped short of a stone wall. “Inside there is an arena and a
market. Tell me, why are you so unfamiliar with our ways?” the minotaur
shot a warning gaze to Asha.
“It's a fair question. I obviously speak flawless Ostrivian as a
human, without the high intellect of an elva. I also have ostrivian magic. I
awoke after the great cataclysm in a haze and not in Ostrivian lands. I
awoke in a human dungeon. Maybe the dungeon was my lair at home, and I
was so deep underground the spell affected me.
“I found myself missing memories and very alone. Torture yielded
little to my captors or to my fractured mind. I escaped, and this elva
accepted coins to help me get north. I’m on a fool's errand to become a
master of an old dwarven hold. Eventually, I’ll rebuild my army and attack
the humans,” I said.
“Bunch of half-truths, but I can work with it. In exchange, next
time you come, I want books from the dwarves,” he said greedily.
“Ah, I do love a good book myself. Any specific requests?” I
asked.
This pleased him, and we went through one of two tall stone walls.
Oskatriver said, “Old texts that predate the great transition.” The
guards ignored us as we crossed the threshold. “You're entering the middle
zone. This is our arena and market section of the city with its own
fortifications to prevent escapes and thieving. Do not leer, please. I really
desire books to the point I’ll hide you from the others at a cost most would
not allocate.”
“Ah, okay,” I said, not fully understanding what he meant, but I
certainly didn’t want to fight a ten-foot tall minotaur female with thighs
bigger than my waist.
Once inside this new section, the city instantly transformed into
stone and everything was clean. Not shiny, but nice. Also, big minotaur
boobs were flopping all over the place as the first exposed females went
about their day. Silk was rare, and cloth was common. The status symbol of
exquisite silk went with gems and golden horn caps.
Males wore close to what Oskatriver did, mainly a kilt with straps
to hold the garment up. Those straps attached all sorts of small one-handed
weapons, and massive battleaxes were slung over some backs while others
avoided big weapons.
On the right side of the street, a big market opened up, selling fruit,
trinkets, jewelry, clothing, slaves, and more. The mix of vendor booths had
a chaotic organization to them. Each booth had a minotaur operating the
place and guards patrolled among the shoppers. I saw other species being
closely watched.
I shifted to see the road keep going until it reached a slightly raised
portcullis with thirty minotaurs ensuring only their kind entered and exited
the upper city.
On the left, a square structure of stone dwarfed even the
surrounding walls. A loud cheering erupted from the interior, and it didn’t
take a genius to figure out what the inside contained.
Oskatriver led us left, down a side alley and away from the main
entrance. When I saw another alley without squatters, it dawned on me. A
minotaur city clamped down on freeloaders no differently than humans.
The mere fact they let me into their city changed my outlook on the
species. Two minotaurs burst out a side exit ahead of us, breaking my
reflections.
“What a weaklin’, arena tis needin’ fresh blood,” the bigger one
said.
“Quit yer yappin, we’re going to war this -” the second minotaur
saw our approach and halted his words.
While these two were behemoths, Oskatriver stood a head taller
than them both. They immediately moved out of our way with heads hung
low.
“A ‘mancer, by Mezonia’s golden tits,” the first one said.
Oskatriver ignored them both.
We turned into a mixed entrance, the tunnel forking in a Y. We went
right, walking down a slope. A half dozen minotaurs rested at the bottom of
the hall, guarding large metallic doors.
A massive female minotaur stood when we entered. The tabletop
she left was filled with paperwork. She appeared in her prime, her face
without scars. Heavy armor covered her body. A lean figure complemented
a fierce gaze that spoke of anger and something even more worrisome cunning.
I cued in that minotaurs were again similar to humans; idiots,
intellectuals, and commoners abounded.
“A jenix cat,” she said. “I’m not sure how I’ll use it as it seems
attached at the moment.”
She tossed both her meaty, four-fingered hands on her hips.
“Jeelina, we’re friends, always friends,” Oskatriver said pleasantly,
smacking my back hard enough to get me to stumble. Jeelina was not
amused, and he continued quickly. “The ‘mancer controls his minion, and
the cat is a bonus to drum up interest. He’ll control the fight from safety.”
“Interesting. Give me a moment. And we both know Os, you
picked books over another child,” Jeelina said, returning to her desk.
“Surprised to see you out of your office.”
I tried not to react, but Asha elbowed me with a stern stare.
I guess I had failed to keep my reaction in check.
“Amused by our mating problems?” Jeelina asked, digging into her
log. I didn’t answer. Luckily, she let it drop, huffing as she studied her
papers. “You’re not going in, are you?”
“You heard our terms, Jee,” Oskatriver said pointedly.
“Yeah, just… a necromancer in the arena would bring far more to
the stands,” the minotauress said with a snort. “Best I can do is the third
card before the main event in four hours. Three points. If I slot you now, I
can give you a random fight but only a point and a quarter.”
Oskatriver eyed me, and then her, me, and then her again. “Three
points is a lot.”
“It's a necromancer. He’ll draw a crowd even with just a skeleton
horse and a jenix. If you let the youngling build up some attention, I can
maybe go four and more if you can add more minions,” Jeelina said.
A hunger from her eyes hit Oskatriver, telling me what she wanted.
The arena master wanted a grand fight. The problem would be that I might
suffer greatly.
“Our deal was the one minion. Give me a moment,” Oskatriver
said, leading me a few paces away from Jeelina and her guards. “I can
adjust our deal. Clearly, they want to see more.”
I rubbed the back of my neck and replied, “I’m not here for much
more than supplies. While I certainly look forward to one day coming back
with higher mana and capable minions, a simple fight is best.”
“I honor my deals. The arena will persist either way.” Oskatriver
turned to Jeelina and said, “The point and a quarter is more than enough,
and a great entry for a new competitor.”
“You are so soft at times, which is why you make such a great
father,” she sighed, kicking the chair of one of the smaller female guards.
“Take them to the King’s Booth.”
The other guards moved into action to allow us to pass. The creak
of the big steel doors opening echoed in the confined space. We walked
through the doorway. After they slammed shut, I hoped I would leave the
pits again.
Our tip resulted in us heading down a hallway with bright magical
lighting. The narrow corridors consisted of a red stone floor and dark
melded walls.
Our escort didn’t say a word. I did catch her giving glances to
Oskatriver. They were the kind Tarla gave me, and I cued in that he must be
important, smart, desired, and happened to find us in the woods as we
approached.
We arrived at a T intersection with a door facing the arena. I went
to Serriavian and touched his body, wanting full control of the situation.
The escort raised the door with a wheel only on this side and said,
“Send them in.”
“Suppress memories,” I said, and the skeleton shuddered slightly.
“Carry the jenix and await instructions from inside the sand.”
“Why change him?” Oskatriver asked.
“You’ll see,” I replied simply.
The minotauress eyed me with disdain and said, “Follow me.”
To be fair to her, every minotaur eyed me like a cat eyed a mouse.
Humans were likely only feared when they marched to war in formations,
not in skirmishes. We left the arena entrance for the side hall until we
arrived at a booth door. The escort opened the door then left us.
The interior held a single bench with some sort of magical sheet of
framed glass allowing a full view of the arena from the floor level. At the
back of the room sat two massive chairs.
“Sit. When the gong strikes three, you’ll fight your minion. Make it
good or else the situation will go poorly,” Oskatriver said with a grunt then
added. “Even for me.”
The clean floors felt smooth under my sandals, and the bench at
least allowed for a nice cushion. Asha placed himself directly behind me
and asked, “What if he wins?”
“You want to win. It's a fight to the death. Just be happy I want you
to come back else I’d stick you in there with no armor and a dagger,”
Oskatriver said.
Gee thanks. I do need to find my role in this whole mess besides just
standing around.
The arena itself was just a big square with a few clasts to break up
the plain arena. A half dozen spikes adorned the side walls, and the stands
rested above those. More of the magical barriers existed to protect the
spectators, telling me I had a long way to go on mastering my
understanding of magic.
I glanced over my shoulder, seeing the door closed. “How did you
know to find us?”
“Ah, you triggered a magical border alert, and I happened to be out
of books, so I was conversing with an old war buddy on guard duty. I won’t
say how, but when the report said a jenix, a skeleton, necromancer, and an
unknown. Well, that piqued my curiosity. I guess the ward needs an
improvement because the elva should have been detected,” Oskatriver said
with a grunt and a shrug.
Instead of mentioning why Asha was a pariah, his words reminded
me of something. I was a necromancer without reserves. If this went well,
that would change. However, having nothing at that moment might cost me
the fight.
“Hand me the Z we have,” I ordered Asha.
He spilled a few orbs from a purse into my palm. They all were the
same size and yet their colorful intensity differed. Ten Zorta later, I felt
better prepared.
Motion in the bleachers caught my attention.
The arena slowly filled with spectators, not all of them minotaurs. I
could hear the bell, signifying that our match was nearing.
A lot of the spectators were stunned to see a skeleton holding a
jenix, pointing at the duo as they arrived. I noticed no one glancing at us,
and I figured we were being magically obscured.
“Are you a scholar?” I asked, minotaur watching.
Extraordinary. These mythical beasts are so damn impressive. I
wonder what others would think if they sat in my chair?
“Yes, the King’s Librarian, as a matter of fact. It’s a title I earned
after decades of patience. I’m on the advisory council and rarely need to go
forth for war,” he said proudly.
Obviously, this statement carried a lot of esteem to him. I certainly
could see the merits of being a wise bookkeeper. After a lifetime of
accepting mediocrity, I suddenly knew I could be more since my
transformation. Being more began to matter, and I felt like I already was
changing in more ways than just becoming morally gray.
The far end of the arena stirred, the gate rising to reveal three
centaurs. Two carried large staffs while the biggest of the bunch twirled
dual swords with a dazzling display for the crowd. This seemed to amuse
Oskatriver, and he let out a throaty laugh.
“Ironic that they fight their own kind. Hey, if you manage to kill
any of these centaurs, don’t skeleton them unless you’re willing to pay a
punishment you likely can’t afford,” Oskatriver warned.
“Uh, how much?” I asked.
“If these centaurs die, they’re slated for a revival. They are not
property, therefore the King's punishment would be severe. I should have
led with that,” he snorted in annoyance.
The crowd cheered when the centaurs raised weapons high. An
announcer came out and bellowed, “Welcome to the midday battle. Three
centaurs of the Aromo Herd versus a rare treat; a necromancer’s pet and its
captive jenix. Hmm… unique indeed. Place your bets! Place your bets!
Place your bets! The match begins soon.”
“Can we bet?” I asked.
“No,” Asha said. “You're in the competition. Technically, I could,
but they frown upon friends and family betting on matches. That goes for
all cities, really.”
“Are you confident you’ll win?” Oskatriver asked.
I shrugged and said, “Gambling is something I generally avoid
because it excites me. Certainly would make me try harder.”
“Our current tally has me owing you seven hundred. The bet offer
is six hundred you lose, eight hundred you win?” He offered.
I smiled and rather hastily said, “Deal.”
“Excellent, because I’ll get another quarter point for a win, well
worth a hundred Zorta,” he said with a smug smirk.
The crowd continued to grow while bet takers walked up and down
the rows. A few gongs rang outside the main arena likely trying to build the
crowd. I wasn’t nervous, and at the same time, I was.
When a minion died, it was awful. Oskatriver would be able to kill
me, and I had to remind myself he could have slaughtered me since the
moment we met. Everything came down to taking risks for Z. That sweet,
sweet Z.
The announcer blew a horn, signaling the end of betting. A minute
later, the last markers were exchanged.
The big minotaur held up four fingers, tucked his arm in, and thrust
three fingers back out. The crowd counted down and the gong rang loud.
“Three, two, one, fight!”
The cheer deafened my ears, and the stomping quaked the entire
arena. The crowd roared with excitement when the three centaurs charged.
I closed my eyes, chanting, “Death is power, and I demand
obedience. Death is power, and I demand obedience. Death is power, and I
demand obedience.”
I wasn’t sure why I used those words, but two things happened.
I projected myself into the centaur. For a brief moment, I was the
minion. I even stared at my own hands to see skeletal fingers and a forearm
being gnawed on by a cat. The feeling more or less tickled my senses.
Freaky, and so cool.
I immediately retreated back to my body by wishing myself away. I
had no idea of the consequences I would suffer if the skeleton died while I
was controlling it directly.
Instead, I held onto the tether, controlling my minion through
verbal commands.
“Rush to the jutting rock ahead and to your right,” I commanded.
The skeleton surged forward, tufts of hard terrain flying from his
hooves.
An ice spell zipped out from one of the centaurs, the creation
forming into a comet shaped ball.
“Jump,” I commanded, and my minion leaped over the spell.
The lead centaur became enraged, his body growing. A red magical
energy bulged his muscles, creating something even I gulped at. The final
centaur stayed back, creating a lightning spell from up high.
“Fling the jenix onto the back mage and then unsuppress
memories,” I ordered.
Watching the skeleton centaur throw an angry feral cat had to be
my favorite part of leaving Earth up to that point. The cat was pissed with a
capital P. Flayed claws, snarled lips, and a shrieking battle cry gave ample
warning to the lightning mage whose arms danced in mid-cast.
The jungle feline had to weigh at least forty pounds, and I believed
Oskatriver’s comment earlier that they fought to the death. That centaur was
committed, unable to rise a proper defense.
The lightning spell unleashed, half cast and cracking into
Serriavian. The minion stumbled and faltered, crashing down.
I instantly reached out and connected to the skeleton while I heard
the vicious cries of a centaur being mauled.
Minion Serriavian has suffered damage. Repair cost 12/25
Mana. Repair (YES) - (NO)
I hastily selected yes and black magic shot through the wall, besting
whatever defenses the arena created. My fallen minion became obscured as
billowing black magic washed over his form.
Seeing the big threat vanish, the ice mage turned on the jenix. An
ice shard shot out of the ground, a sharp tip driving up rapidly.
The jenix meowed in terrible pain when the magic cracked and then
pierced its body.
“Get to the jenix,” I commanded Serriavian.
I instantly transitioned into my next spell, chanting, “Death is
power, and I summon you. Death is power, and I summon you. Death is
power, and I summon you.”
A few things happened in a single breath. Serriavian burst out of
the inky black cloud, flinging a long dagger at the magically enraged
centaur.
A quick deflection avoided any damage but did put the warrior off
balance slightly.
The injured centaur tried to contain spurting blood that appeared
fatal.
The ice mage centaur, caught in the middle of Serriavian’s charge,
tried to tackle my minion and barely failed, sending both into a tumble.
I waited patiently, the charge of my mantra and meditation surging
through my very being.
Then it happened. The cat died.
I reached out and the colorful orb not only welcomed me, it purred
in happiness. An offered revenge as a skeletal hybrid thrilled the feral cat.
Claiming the jenix cat as a minion will result in you earning
Ostriva points. Do you wish to proceed? (YES) - (NO)
Not just yes, but oh, hell yes!
You selected to claim a jenix cat. Consume 1.112 Zorta to
summon this creature as a minion of the undead. Confirm (YES) (NO)
I waited, muttering between clenched teeth, “Get to the cat!”
The berserker centaur leaped after my minion, desperate to catch
the diving skeleton. His tackle landed, and the duo fell on top of the dead
cat.
I confirmed my selection, releasing a cackle because the roaring
crowd was in for a surprise.
A swirling tornado of black magic dragged in the dying centaur and
the ice mage. Loud groaning of the undead startled the crowd, and for a few
breaths a chill frosted the air.
When the souls raised hands from the sandy terrain to consume the
flesh of the jenix, they found the flesh of the centaur.
Its horrendous wailing shrieks silenced the crowd. Their cries of
mercy and despair even caused my hairs to raise. We all witnessed the
horrific image of the underworld coming up to claim those within its
reaches.
Note, stay away from ghoulish hands plying the flesh from bone.
The berserker and the ice mage stumbled as they escaped. Large,
leaking wounds revealed where the living had been mauled by the magical
undead.
Serriavian hobbled out of the spell, chasing after the ice mage. His
long dagger sunk into the chest of the ice mage, and the dying centaur
hugged his attacker.
This confused me until a sword swept out and cleaved Serriavian’s
head from his body. I watched his death in shock, not expecting to lose my
minion.
The berserker cheered as I collapsed. For a fleeting moment, I saw
the jenix cat leap onto the champion’s back, and I could only hope he would
win the fight.
My mana exhaustion washed over me, and the prompt to revive
Serriavian told me he was doomed. I didn’t have a single mana left, let
alone 73 more.
“Yes!” Asha cried out, watching the battle unfold. “He did it, the
battle is over. I’ll get jenix while you recover.”
“Impressive fight,” Oskatriver said. “Consume Zorta to recover. I
don’t have time to watch you lying around.”
Consume .12 Zorta to recover 118 mana. -93 owed + 25 to full
recovery.
I didn’t see a way to save some Z to recover to only 1. I paid the
fee, knowing we had won enough Z to finally splurge a bit.
A moment later, I managed to regain my feet. Asha opened the
door, and the skeletal cat rubbed the blood coating its bones onto my pants.
“Ugh, thanks,” I said sarcastically. I turned to revive Serriavian.
When I reached out and connected to his body, I felt a welcoming embrace.
Warning 59 minutes until Minion Serriavian rebuild is forever
inaccessible. Warning 107/25 mana is required to rebuild Minion
Serriavian. Zorta will be required to reassemble Minion Serriavian.
Cost 83 Zorta.
I groaned, hating having to make this decision. “Can you pay me in
the next hour?” I asked.
“Yes, why?” he asked.
I sighed. “I would pay a hefty sum to rebuild the minion.”
“Interesting. I’ve never met a necromancer before, please share,”
Oskatriver tried to lure out the information.
“For eighty-three Zorta, sure,” I said, joining the laugh this elicited.
“One Zorta per mana I’m missing.”
“I’ll replace him personally for sharing openly. Mind you, at a
fraction of the cost. Slaves are cheap, and there’s better mounts,” he said.
“Let’s leave your conquered foe where he rests and give him a good death.”
Oskatriver used a somber tone of respect I could understand.
“Yes, I assume you’re guiding me to go shopping too?” I asked.
“Indeed, you are not all there in the head. Best I keep you safe and
ward off others who would seek to exploit you in a different manner than
me. Humans have massive cities and massive libraries. Same with dwarves.
You can get me books from both,” Oskatriver said with a grunt.
“Of course, now I just hope this newfound wealth goes far here,” I
said with a smile.
He shook his head with a mighty laugh. I found that sign to be
ominous and unwelcome.
CHAPTER 21
Xastriban Market
“Define better,” I said, staring at old donkeys.
Tied to a posting hitch, three asses stood in a daze, uncaring that we
even were nearby. I glanced up to Oskatriver, and he shrugged.
The mid-afternoon crowd of the market remained busy with the din
of folks bartering broken by the loud boisterous cries of those selling their
wares. Alien pigeons perched behind the donkeys, and the stall to our right
sold fancy birds in cages that they eyed.
The large minotaur unfolded his arms and flippantly gestured.
“Twenty Zorta for one of these. That’s four of these for one centaur, and
they’re sturdy, easy to ride,” he said.
He had a point.
“Yeah, the centaur had hands and could catch small prey. More
importantly, he could fight,” I countered.
“King Hartinger considers the centaurs allies, and we hold none as
slaves, a rare treat. Your cat will catch ten times more than the centaur ever
would have,” he said in an amused tone.
I could tell he was enjoying this. Every question revealed
information that wasn’t likely available. A few times, the jenix would get
noticed, drawing attention, and Oskatriver would shoo the curious away.
The jenix tucked between my legs, on a command of follow only. I
bent down to pet the skeleton that reacted like a real cat. While I wasted
time, the flow of the market continued. I couldn’t help but notice that the
mares for my wagon were a quarter of the price of a single donkey ready for
slaughter.
“Alright, what’s cheaper? Something has to be,” I said, feeling a bit
flustered.
The large minotaur folded his arms again. His temperament seemed
shorter now that the fun was over. “Slaves and their supplies we capture in
surplus. Zorta is easy to come by. We do see this often with a few of our
trading partners. Our costs are high because most of us have an excess of
Zorta.”
Asha cleared his throat and said, “I would upgrade your
necromancer rank before going to the slaves, and I agree, these donkeys
would be a waste at twenty Zorta. I think you can replace Serriavian easily
and come out ahead.”
“May I be paid?” I asked.
He huffed but nodded. “Wait here,” he said, leaving us with the
donkeys.
Asha said, “He will likely come back and say he only managed to
get five hundred. Or offer a bonus with strings. They’re shrewd, but this one
is close to being a noble. At the very least, he manages a war band.”
“A division,” a voice said, approaching from the side. Jeelina the
pit manager showed up with a few hulking minotaurs with her. Not that she
needed the back up against us. “I have a single question and Yabo here is a
truthsayer of sorts. It was reported to me that one of my kind had a slip of
the tongue and you heard. I need to send a report to my superiors. Answer
truthfully or die.”
“That the minotaurs are going to war? Figured it was common
enough,” I said with a shrug, trying to be casual. “I know I intend to war to
the south once I’m set up again.”
“You’re going south?” she asked.
I shook my head and said, “No, the intent is to go north for now to
trade with the dwarves for armor and gear. I’m weak and trying to grow in
power. Trading between the two cities will help a lot.”
“Honest to a fault,” the other minotaur - likely Yabo - said.
“Good, makes things cleaner. Ten lashes to Urbar and this settles
the matter. You heard nothing,” she said, eying me down her snout.
As her and her escort left, Oskatriver approached with a minotaur
almost twice his size. Like a wave washing onto the beach, the market
cowered in fright at the mere sight of him. This new behemoth wore
intricate armor with runes engraved across the dark metal.
The large weapons were two single handed axes bigger than me.
This minotaur was a beast that his own people cowered from, telling me I
should be worried. In a second, I realized the report of loose lips already
reached superiors.
Asha respectfully bowed a half dip, and I followed the elva’s lead.
The large minotaur neared, his loud, three hoofed toes clacking
against the ground of the market. His weight was so great, the stones
trembles from his steps.
“Up,” he said.
I slowly stood rigid, seeing the massive minotaur mere feet away.
He wore no jewelry or fancy silk. Everything was about war for this
minotaur. He clearly thrilled for battle, choosing to repair his scars. It
became abundantly clear that a minotaur could keep growing. His youthful
exuberant smile lied about his true age, and his eyes shone mischievously a predator eyeing its prey.
“Fetch me Jeelina,” the behemoth said in a soft tone.
“On it,” Oskatriver said, only having to wave her and her fellows
over.
“I’m General Karde and you are not welcome here,” he said, staring
down at me as if I were an ant.
Asha kept his mouth shut, and I followed his lead.
Yabo arrived again and the general asked, “Are you a spy for the humans?”
“I’m not. I’m on the run from them actually,” I said, looking
directly at Yabo.
“Truth,” Yabo said. “He is also verified as going north.”
Karde snorted, a booger the size of my finger splattered onto my
shoulder. I didn’t freak out, and he chuckled. These two things seemed to
placate the initial anger of the General.
“Tell me everything you can about the humans to the south,”
General Karde said.
Well, this certainly was one way to earn a whole bunch of Ostriva
points. Do I hold back? No, I’ll likely have a really awful death if I do.
“A big reward if I do kind of deal?” I asked, playing the part.
If I simply rolled over, I’d probably stick out more.
His eyes squinted, not amused. I nodded in understanding and
began to say everything I could. I used having to escape Tarb as my initial
flight from mankind, which was true. The details went well. He mostly
wanted unit sizes and how many siege engines were on walls, and then he
asked questions to see my answers.
I didn’t hold back, and I didn’t lie. It became painfully clear that
Tarb’s quiet days were coming to an end soon. I had shown up while this
city was likely on a war footing.
Yeah, I felt like shit for squealing, but this was about my survival.
If King Karn and his Dukes were smart, they’d know that a few weeks
south a massive minotaur city readied for war. If not, they’d see them
coming well before they hit Tarb.
I finished my tale, Yabo confirmed it, and like that, General Karde
left to join a group at the start of the market. He continued to talk with what
was likely military officials. Hopefully, that would be the last time I ever
met the menacing minotaur.
After I flicked off the nasty slimy booger, I let out a big sigh of
relief. Asha nodded at me with a wince, and I didn’t know what to say.
Oskatriver cleared his throat. “Wise of you to be forward. It is time
for you to go,” he said handing me a sack the size of watermelon.
I handed it to Asha, concerned with what came next.
“No shopping?” I asked.
“No shopping, and I apologize for that. Even my power here is
fickle compared to the horde’s needs. You’ve been paid in full, and I’m to
escort you to where we met,” he said.
“Aw, can I buy a single donkey since we’re here?” I asked.
He smiled and said, “Interestingly enough, I was going to offer one.
Will you talk me through the process?”
I nodded.
He reached down, one hand grabbing the donkey’s head, the other
grabbing the frame at the shoulders. The massive minotaur moved his hands
with a sudden and violent twist until the neck broke.
Crack!
“Impressive,” I said. He rolled his wrist and then pointed to the
dead donkey. “Oh, right. Bit nervous.” The General still watched our
interactions with interest. “The orb requires me to meditate and
concentrate. If I fail, I try harder or use an incantation.”
I closed my eyes, found my center, and reached out.
“Once I’m in my central point of understanding what I am, I reach
out,” I said. “Then I get an option, claim or consume.”
“Wait, before you adjust the orb of Zorta?” Oskatriver asked.
“Yes, I still see the orb floating over the donkey,” I said, seeing the
essence without even opening my eyes.
“We do not,” Asha said.
“Consider me the interested one. Keep going,” Oskatriver said.
“I manage a series of prompts, and then… we should step back for
this part. Am I okay to summon the undead?” I asked.
“Yes, that’s the part I need to know the most about,” he said.
“Oh, well, about that,” I said, hesitating. “I mean you might want to
get Yabo over to verify.”
“That bad?” Oskatriver asked.
I frowned and said, “It’s just that I don’t do anything really. The
whole struggle is getting to the claim part. The rest of the magic is done by
the gods or goddess or creator.”
I shrugged, and he nodded solemnly.
“Ah, I believe you. But you’re right, they saw you damage the
centaurs. This was your last test. If you were able to bring the souls from
the soil and say consume an enemy army, I would have turned you into a
well-cared for slave soldier.
“Instead, I see you’re weak and rely on the gods. Making you unfit
for our ranks. The donkey is free, and the orbs are paid in full. Bring your
replacement to life,” Oskatriver ordered, his tone and mood instantly
changing.
I understood that I had been deemed worthy of a test to exploit and
been found lacking. Something for the best.
You selected to claim a Minion Donkey. Consume 0.450 Zorta
to summon this creature as a minion of the undead. Confirm (YES) (NO)
I accepted the .45 Zorta fee and watched the spell unfold. The
assembled minotaurs watched something that was likely rare. When the
translucent hands of the souls rose out of the ground, Oskatriver moved
with lightning speed.
He snatched another donkey from the resting hitch and slammed it
into the feasting hands.
The sight of the dead being stripped of flesh already gave me a
shudder. Seeing a live animal endure their magical destruction revolting. He
dragged the donkey a few feet away and the hands never turned or adjusted
to continue to consume. The spell solely fixated on the donkey.
“A pity,” Oskatriver bellowed. “Useless, but he can get me books!”
His proud tone caused the others to grumble. Clearly, he really
loved his books and the others expected this.
“Out of my city by nightfall,” General Kadre said with a booming
voice.
The minotaur and his entourage continued plotting while eyeing me
scornfully.
“Okay, test complete. We can go shopping now,” he said. “Sort
of.”
I opened my mouth and closed it, not sure talking would help. We
walked by countless trinket and jewelry vendors until we left the trading
district. I grew confused but followed because I was happy to get away
from General Kadre and the others who watched us intently.
We turned right after arriving into the slave quarters of the city,
walking counter to the arena. I could hear the roar of the crowd loving
whatever competition thrilled them.
I felt relieved to see minimal minotaurs and escape that situation. If
I had to guess, they knew I wasn’t a human agent and at the same time not
worth exploiting. It sure did feel like a foreshadowing to a future conflict.
I didn’t want to tell them they should have locked me up. Then
again, minotaurs were battle masters. Maybe they did expect me to return
with an army and give them a challenge they wanted.
I shook my head, seeing the stone wall on our left curve away. A
few minutes of walking led us through a warehouse section. Not many
workers used this area, and I welcomed the time to reflect.
We stopped in front of a three or four story warehouse constructed
of full trees. Even trees were used for roofing and a huge door told me
minotaurs grew bigger than General Kadre.
Oskatriver yanked the door open and said, “Ten items per Zorta.”
When I saw a warehouse full of unorganized gear, I blanched. It
was like someone had haphazardly tossed piles of weapons, armor, and
camping supplies into the center of the building - and then grew that pile
every day for years until it was a chaotic nightmare of a mess.
“You have an hour total before I drag you out of here,” Oskatriver
said.
“Asha, open the bag,” I ordered, knowing a timer had just started
and his goodwill could end at any minute.
The glowing circles inside the bag revealed about eighty circles.
Maybe ten per. Yeah, ten per for sure.
I grabbed the bag and said, “Get in there and get everything you
can that is valuable for our mission, nothing useless for trade yet.”
He raced into the room, moving far faster than a human.
I dug into the bag, quickly connecting to an orb.
Consume 10 Zorta (YES) - (NO)
I selected yes and did this ten times until my Zorta count was over a
hundred.
Necromancer Level 2 -} Necromancer Level 3 = 100 Zorta.
(YES) or (NO)
I selected yes.
Nothing happened beside a slight shudder that ran down my spine. I
went into my stat sheet to see the fated change.
Magic Type 2: Necromancer
Necromancy Level: 2
Necromancer Minions: 4/15
I frowned. This wasn’t the worst-case scenario, and a five to fifteen
wasn’t the best. Maybe there was a key unlock at ten, and then twenty or
something. Fifteen minions was triple what I had before and would
certainly help.
I saw more upgrades on the table, enough for me to have to
consume another ten Zorta to accept them all. My charisma and perception
shot up nicely, along with my intelligence and wisdom. Apparently, being
honest in front of a brutish minotaur was wise.
Name: Damien Moonguard
Race: Human
Affiliation: Ostriva
Zorta: 8.338
Nordan Score: 4600
Ostriva Score: 207,500
Location: Ikara Valley
Magic Type: Healer
Healer Level: 4
Magic Type 2: Necromancer
Necromancy Level: 3
Necromancer Minions: 4/15
Fighting Level: Pathetic
Mana: 22/30
Mana Recharge: 4
Strength: 6
Stamina: 5
Dexterity: 4
Constitution: 7
Willpower: 6
Cultivation: 7
Intelligence: 29
Wisdom: 29
Charisma: 22
Tracking: 3
Endurance: 6
Perception: 12
Burst: 4
Reflex: 4
Healing: 5
Melee Combat: 4
Aim: 2
Hunger: 4
Thirst: 3
Aging: 59 years until death.
“Aw, I’m no longer neutral,” I said.
Oskatriver snorted and said, “You going in too?”
“No, take me to where I can get some minions,” I said with a
smile.
“This may shock you, but our slaves are expensive. We use them
effectively. Then, when they die, they become food or fertilizer. You were
led out of the upper slave market for a reason. Think of our slaves as traded
goods not wasted goods. However, we do have those too worthless for even
the pits. Yes, I’m talking about goblins,” he said in a gruff tone.
“You don’t want me getting a small army from your slaves?” I
asked.
“Finally catching on. I can sell you nose picking goblins at five
Zorta per, but I’m telling you, they're prolific breeders and easy to find in
the valley,” he said. “And they’re only worth a fraction of a Zorta each.
They hold value here because they manage the shit. Literally. They’re good
at walking shit from a to b and that’s about it. Even then they fall in
sometimes, but they never complain, so they have their place in our
society.”
Asha darted to the door. “Three would work best. Enough to
frontline for a few seconds. They’ll be brittle and useless long term. Even a
jenix could kill them. No sense in over investing. You mentioned a korb
earlier,” Asha said this line to Oskatriven.
“No,” he replied. “Goblins, that’s it, and I think you know why?”
I pointed back into the warehouse, and Asha tossed a fancy sword
onto the ground.
“No to the korb because you would be aiding a potential threat
later?” I asked.
“Close enough,” he grumbled, walking back into the main alley.
When he rounded the corner he accidentally punted a three and a half foot
tall female goblin. She smacked into a stone wall and her head burst open.
The way her brains splattered against the stone reminded me of tossing
paint against a wall. “Not free. You’ll claim her so I don’t have to pay the
fine.”
Her orb floated over her body, and I sighed. “I guess, but you owe
me.”
“Funny,” he said dryly.
I closed my eyes, willed my spirit into a powerful force and
reached out to connect to her orb. The defenses were pathetic, and I
overpowered her resistances with ease. My cultivation clearly was
improving even if this was an easy target.
You selected to claim Snorka Tasa. Consume 0.259 Zorta to
summon this creature as a minion of the undead. Confirm (YES) (NO)
I selected yes, watching the spell of the magic summon the
blackness. When the ghoulish hands finished their grisly task of consuming
her flesh all that remained was the gore splatter upon the wall.
The skeleton joined my little minion army, fitting in without any
special attention required.
Another goblin walked from around a corner a few hundred feet
down the alley. The young goblin lad whistled a tune, carrying a pail with
glee.
Oskatriver burst into a run, closing the distance incredibly fast. He
jumped up at least twenty feet high and slammed both feet into the
oblivious goblin.
A diabolical laugh escaped his lips as he enjoyed smushing the
goblin into a paste.
“Claim it,” he ordered with a sneer. The gentle giant librarian from
earlier seemed to have darkened.
I went through the cultivation process of winning over the colorful
orb floating over the ruined body.
You selected to claim a goblin beyond saving, menu reverting to
consume.
“Ruined that one,” I said dryly, not letting the young goblin’s
sudden death faze me.
He frowned, flicking the gore off his feet. “Wonder what the
threshold of their destruction is?”
“I can record my findings as I discover them and then sell the data
to you,” I said.
“Ugh, you should just give them to me so I don’t end you,” he said
with a sneer.
“Yes, well, sugar gets you more than salt,” I said, quoting my
mother.
Oskatriver grumbled and consumed the orb of the goblin. He didn’t
comment and led me to a warehouse further from the upper city. An
overwhelming horrid stench assaulted my nostrils. Even the jenix skeleton
shook its head.
I pinched my nose, coming around a corner to see two goblins
rolling bone dice outside the big building.
“Ten Zorta,” Oskatriver said, pointing to the two males.
These two were larger than the female, and I considered that a
small victory. They wore ragged loincloths. The green coloration had forest
brown and black tiger stripes. Their bodies held minor scars and neither
carried a weapon.
I raised a finger to the two goblins who stared at us with blinking
eyes of confusion. If I had to guess, they were normally avoided and left
alone.
“Kill,” I ordered.
The jenix skeleton lunged, closing the distance in a single leap. The
female skeleton raced to help.
The first victim collapsed, not even putting up a fight. Large holes
spurted blood onto the street from where the cat’s fangs punctured the
neck.
The second goblin ran, making it only a few feet before my
skeletons tackled it. The screams drew a few curious onlookers as the jenix
mauled the other goblin to death. Throaty screams filled with liquid until
they became a gurgle.
Watching the scene unfold left both Oskatriver and me uncaring.
The goblins were fodder and a step in my path to getting home. I simply
had to break some eggs to make my omelette.
The death throes of the goblin ended, and the attack was over in
less than a minute. I reached into my sack and gave two orbs to Oskatriver.
He ingested the Zorta without a word.
Turning my attention to the goblin orbs, I reached out and instantly
felt acceptance. I had to wonder if my minions ending their lives helped, or
was it just because they were that pitiful.
You selected to claim a Gars Garka. Consume 0.288 Zorta to
summon this creature as a minion of the undead. Confirm (YES) (NO)
You selected to claim a Beskar Darka. Consume 0.269 Zorta to
summon this creature as a minion of the undead. Confirm (YES) (NO)
I confirmed yes, watching the tornado of black magic crash down,
ripping up the hands of the undead. The bodies were consumed quickly
until two more white skeletons joined my army.
Brittle feeble minions to replace a mighty centaur. Not exactly what
I hoped for, but I could work with it.
“Hopefully, your guide is done,” Oskatriver said, clearly tired of
my presence.
I didn’t fault him for wanting me to be gone. My usefulness had
ended for now. He didn’t need to placate me. I firmly understood this place
held oodles of Zorta to trade, and they were fairly lax in allowing traders
into their cities. Much more so than say, Tarb.
My five new minions followed close behind me. One of the goblins
hopped on the donkey’s back, struggling to ride the boney frame. I found it
amusing while Oskatriver didn’t care.
When we arrived at the big door, a pile of swords, armor, shields,
bows and arrows waited outside the building. A lot of it was plain, some of
it decent, and none of it amazing.
“The skeletons will clank a lot with all that on,” Oskatriver said
with a snort.
Asha tossed four large bags with back frames out. I went about
stuffing the items into the bags. A few minutes in, and I had the bags
loaded. Asha left the warehouse with two small teepee tents bound tightly.
“Nothing amazing but great value, and we can use it all. I saw
preserver jars. Let me get them, and then we should be done,” he said.
A few minutes later, he came out with a sack that clanked from
glass clattering. Oskatriver didn’t care to count our items and accepted my
twenty Zorta overpayment for the three goblins as more than enough.
If I had to guess, this was a ‘free for all’ warehouse. Stealing goblin
gear probably resulted in a lot of junk stockpiling.
As we readied to leave, each goblin struggled with their sacks. The
donkey barely managed the tents, and even I helped carry supplies with a
ruck on my back.
Oskatriver impatiently marched us out of the city, through the
fields, and into the jungle over the next twenty minutes.
When we hit our initial meeting spot, the minotaur stopped and
said, “I would send the elva in for your next trade. We will suffer losses in
the coming war, and humans will fill our conquered quarters. If you come to
trade even with an army of the undead, you're a human and should expect
pushback.” He turned to Asha. “Ask for Oska the librarian and they will
summon me.”
The minotaur said no more and left abruptly.
I watched his rapid pace take him far away. When his form
retreated from view, I let out a sigh of relief.
“That was close,” I said.
“Eh, that’s how they work. If they weren’t planning on invading
Tarb, we would have gotten in and out without issues. Plus, I triggered an
alert. Best to get our move on,” Asha said, stepping off to get back to our
party.
The incessant clanging was loud, and we paused a few times.
Eventually, I removed a bag from one of the goblins and told the minion to
scout with my jenix cat.
An hour and a half later, I really missed Sven, my centaur minion,
because my arms and thighs burned. The donkey was slow, my back ached,
and I grew concerned we had procured too much junk.
The cat, though, that fancy skeletal feline brought me at least a half
dozen pigeon type squirrels. I would consume the Zorta while on the go,
adding to my meager stockpile.
After leaving the valley for the Nordan highlands, Asha created a
path through the tall trees. When we arrived at our hidden spot, I braced for
the worst, hoping the half day we were gone would have been restful and
without issue.
When Jark exited the tent flap with a smile I sighed again.
Tarla burst out, lunging into my arms and knocking me over. We
tumbled to the ground, and I couldn’t help but chuckle with a smile. Our
courting had been exceedingly careful and slow. Being welcomed by a
woman this intensely was new and - and - and I loved it.
I gave her a tender kiss to say thanks.
“I was so worried,” she exclaimed.
Bell came out to loom over us while Tarla smothered me. “I take it
everything went well?”
“Yes and no. I lost Sven but there’s six hundred and something Z in
one of these bags. We have basic armor to sort, and I leveled up to
necromancer three, fifteen minions. Just need to find the minions,” I said,
pinching Tarla’s butt. “Get off me my fiery redhead. Oh, I got you a tent to
carry.”
“What!?” she blurted. She had complained about our lack of
privacy and not enjoying sleeping with five people in an awkward ball.
“You lost our large pack mule and downgraded to an actual donkey,” Tarla
said in a teasing tone.
“Yeah, we need to hurry and sort all this. I want to start moving
north right away,” I said.
“You worried?” Jark asked with concern, his eyes darting around.
“I’ll start breaking down the current canvas.”
Asha said, “Master Damien made a few waves, but in doing so
earned a large amount of needed supplies and Zorta.”
“Let’s just say I’d rather send someone else in my stead next time,
but we made good connections. Oh, and I’m screwed because I sorta
betrayed humanity. I’m in the low two hundred thousand range for Ostriva
points,” I admitted, stripping my bag off.
I dumped the supplies, and a second later Asha did the same. The
goblins followed suit until we had our own pile of crummy gear in the
forest to sort from.
“Wait, how did that happen?” Bell asked.
I told her the story, and her face dropped in sadness. “My parents,”
she muttered.
“Ask yourself, Bell, will your mother flee the city before a horde
arrives, and if they breach the walls, will the king not send aid?” I asked.
“You think it's more or less raiding?” she asked.
“I don’t see them wanting to make Tarb a minotaur city, but I could
be wrong. Plus, it’ll take a month at least for an army to transition.
However, the gods deemed my blathering to be a betrayal. And if I’m right
there, an army forming, and we need to get out of the area,” I said.
I found a decent sword and a set of studded leathers. I went through
the piles until I had new boots, arm guards, and the leathers equipped. For
the first time, I felt like a peon soldier. At least I had weapons and armor
meant for war finally.
The ladies ended up wearing male armor to protect their bodies.
Bell plucked a nice bow out of the supplies, claiming it.
Tarla grabbed a padded helmet with a neck cover. All this gear
would be dreadful in the summer heat, and I certainly was glad Bell still
had her water magic.
Atta girl.
When we finished sorting the items, we looked pitiful. We were a
band of adventurers in hand me down gear, and I loved it. Upgrading
mattered, and I quickly went about inspecting the others.
A pile of unused items sat on the forest floor along with most of the
preserving jars.
“And these?” Jark asked.
“Not worth hauling. We’ll overload the donkey and leave each of
the goblins carrying long daggers. The rest we burden,” I ordered.
They frowned, not liking that we suddenly had to haul our own
gear, but no one pouted. A few minutes later, we set off to the north. It
would take a week and a half to get through the strivian jungle with a whole
lot of wildlife to get through.
Even if I suspected the trip to be arduous, the extra gear and Z
certainly had me feeling better about our chances.
CHAPTER 22
Ikara Valley
Sparkling brown eyes fixated on me with lust. The first morning
after we had our own tent, Tarla wanted to escalate our relationship.
I had to pluck roaming hands free of a developing situation
between my legs.
“Tarla, I’m enjoying our light conversations, but there’s still so
much to get to know about you,” I said, giving her a tender kiss.
“Have I ever told you I like swimming?” she asked.
I shook my head. “I enjoy it too and miss it. The water on Nordan
frightens me.”
“Wild water?” she asked, snuggling into my shoulder.
I didn’t fight her when she traced fingers along my body, and I
returned the favor. She nestled in tighter, realizing I wasn’t following.
“Many human cities contain lavish and items of excess now that the
world is filled with magic. My father and my… mothers enjoyed a nice
estate. We had a pool and Mother Melina was a water mage and Mother
Zelli a fire mage. Together, they would fill and heat it. Or cool it from
Mother Serrin, depending on the season.
“Some of my fondest memories are about playing pool games.
When you have a nice home and excess mana to spare, swimming can
become amazing. Anyway, no, I’ve never swam in the wild waters. No one
does,” she said, enjoying my embrace.
“Sounds like fun. A bathhouse, a hot tub, and a cool pool. Yeah, I
like that idea a lot. Something to look forward to. And some intimate time
when we’re somewhere safe,” I said, kissing her forehead.
She sighed, “You sure you wanna wait?” Her eyebrows bounced
with a smirk.
I sweetly tucked her red locks behind her ear, enjoying this new
side of me.
“Yeah, for now, anyway,” I said, hoping to not drive a wedge
between us.
“Bath bucket’s ready,” Bell called out, her voice coming into the
tent.
We had pulled the first guard shift even with the skeleton goblins
set to rotate our camp counterclockwise. I felt somewhat secure knowing
we had a decent setup going and people awake in teams. Being first meant
we slept in a smidge, and now Bell was letting us know it was time to get
up.
I grabbed a dirty shirt to cover my naked form and Tarla asked,
“May I wash you?”
“Yeah, I don’t mind. Just sex is something I’d rather save. Plus, you
look great naked,” I said.
“Gross,” Jark said, his voice matching footsteps nearby.
“I could stand to hear more, Brother,” Tarla countered with sass.
I chuckled and Tarla joined me behind the tent. The soft grass
gobbled up the water we used to rinse the nastiness off us. While we bathed,
she hummed a tune that Jark sang. I told her of competition pools and how I
swam in high school to meet girls. For a few minutes, the Ostriva jungle
seemed peaceful.
After the bath, I almost geared into my seat soaked armor from a
hard march yesterday. A single whiff had me diverting to a robe. I equipped
my sword, grabbed a shield, and exited behind Tarla.
We had found a nice meadow in the jungle in the middle of
nowhere. The jungle being full of life wasn’t a lie, just most of it ran from
our path, instead of attacking us. The short grass, clear sky, and early
morning breeze allowed for a serene sight of colorful jungle encircling us.
Asha whittle a stick into an arrow, Jark placed firewood by our fire,
and Bell gutted a rabbit by a fire with makeshift seating. I went about
breaking down the fire with a hatchet from one of the bags. Having simple
tools again made a big difference.
“Can we name the cat?” Bell asked while everyone went about
their morning tasks.
The skeleton cat was set to hunt creatures smaller than itself and
boy was it good. A dozen birds laid in a pile, their colorful feathers marred
in blood. The cat even hunted while we marched, and the Z was starting to
add up.
“Would you be willing to do the honors?” I offered. “I’ve been
calling it jenix because it doesn’t even tell me if it's a boy or girl.”
“I always wanted a cat. Dad said yes, Mom no, so you could
imagine how that went. The jenix snuggled with me last night, not sure why
it likes me. Kinda like the cat over the centaur. Anyway, if I were lucky
enough to get a cat, I told myself it would be named Lumpy,” Bell said.
I chuckled. “No turning this into a fat cat, but I’ll rename him for
you,” I said.
Minion: Jenix Jungle Cat.
Health 9/9. Level 1.
Sentient Cat.
Fighting Abilities: Highly proficient.
Memories intact.
Upgrade Available. Consume 18 mana and 3 Zorta (YES) or
(NO)
Repair missing claw: 2 mana of 30 available.
I tapped the name Jenix Jungle Cat with a mental thought. A
prompt asked if I wanted to change the name, and a few inputs later, our cat
became Lumpy.
Lumpy the kickass nimble cat that was about ten times scarier than
the goblins.
“And done,” I said with a smile. “How about the goblins?”
“One, two, and three works for me,” Asha said with a snort. “These
feathers are great for fletching. If I can get all these plucked, we’re talking
about a good trade item for those not in the jungle.”
“Lumpy is awesome,” Tarla said, breaking down our tent with the
donkey waiting to be strapped down.
Jark returned with a final haul of wood and asked, “What’s the plan
today, Boss? More hard marching?”
One of my new changes was I would never be called master again
and went with boss instead. I just couldn’t stomach being an evil overlord
everyone referred to as master.
“A day of mostly training,” I said, finding a log to sit on. “Followed
by a hose down and about three hours of marching before dark.”
“You want to take our time in the valley?” Bell asked with
confusion. Her hazel eyes lingered on me with concern.
I nodded and said, “Yeah, I do. I have a problem. I don’t know how
to fight and Asha does. Like, I get it, stick sharp pointy end into bad guys,
but there has to be more to it,” I said.
“Certainly is, and gear plays a factor,” Asha said, continuing to
refine his arrow.
I nodded and said, “At least I have a shield now, but yeah. The
other thing is we need to have a hard discussion about upgrades.
“Asha, Jark, and Lumpy are all capable of being upgraded. Same
with the goblins, and hear me out. They’re shit now, we know that, but
maybe not at level twenty, and they’re cheap to improve, so it might be
worth it. However, we’ll waste the Z frivolously. So, there’s that, and then I
don’t know if we should invest our sudden windfall of Z on ourselves or
save it for a better shopping experience.”
Asha said, “We need an ice mage, a shield mage, a wind mage, an
earth mage, and the list goes on. Not to mention we need horses, proper
gear, and for you a crossbow or something simple. I can kill just fine. Jark
can zap decently and improving your magic would make your spell how
much deadlier?” The elva asked this last question directly to Jark.
“Uh, no idea, but it's not even half my old power, and my old power
was fairly weak. I’d love some better gear,” Jark said then pointed to his
sister. “Tarla is growing in power and her staff is a cheapo.”
“Hey, this cost five gold,” Tarla said proudly. “But he has a point. I
vote we hoard, minus for Lumpy.”
“That seals the deal… almost. Any objections to ingesting small
orbs to keep carrying size down and hoarding our ten Z orbs?” I asked the
group.
I glanced around, seeing a circle of nods. I couldn’t level up
anything yet anyway, so this was a bit of a moot point at the moment.
Bell pulled out a set of wooden bowls and said, “Upgrade Lumpy,
and if we can get more we should.”
I grabbed the bowls from her with a smile, dishing everyone’s soup
breakfast.
“Lumpy come back please,” I said as if he were near.
The skeleton cat returned after I handed out breakfast, and I went
into his menu. I healed him first then went into his upgrade menu.
Upgrade Available. Consume 18 mana and 3 Zorta (YES) or
(NO)
I selected yes, and the bones collapsed to the trampled grass. A
swirling black magic rushed into the bones, fueling them with power. The
bones expanded and contracted, cracking loudly as they grew.
When the pieces of the cat began dancing with jarring motions, I
became fixated.
The swirl of magic condensed into a single point, pulsing with
power. A final surge ended with an explosion of black mist.
When the magic dissipated, the Lumpy reformed and raced to sit by
Bell. The priestess of Caitlyn reached down to administer loving pets.
Lumpy grew, not by much, but the bones were stronger and bigger.
I pulled up his data sheet.
Minion: Lumpy.
Health 14/14. Level 2.
Sentient Cat.
Fighting Abilities: Highly proficient.
Memories intact.
Upgrade Available. Consume 10/58 mana and 37 Zorta (YES)
or (NO) Due to lack of mana upgrade cost is 95.
“He gained five health, and I can upgrade him again when I
improve my mana. I wonder if he will keep growing in size or reach a
limit,” I muttered.
I glanced around to see shrugs.
“Are we tracking individual gains?” I asked. “For instance, what
the single hunting goblin brings in versus the centaur versus Lumpy.”
Bell opened her mouth then shook her head no, instead.
Jark cleared his throat and said, “Boss, are you wanting to keep a
running tally of our finances?”
“Yeah, I think it's great to see what Lumpy earns for our group on a
daily basis. Eventually, we can stack it against us raiding a goblin cave or
something,” I said.
“I can try to help Bell,” Jark said.
Bell eyed him down her nose, not giving any input. I had to wonder
if she was trying to keep him away somewhat by her dismissive nature.
Her eyes shifted to me, and Bell said, “I’ve never been the best at
keeping a balance. I only managed the tally up to this point to help keep
things fair. Speaking of which…” She opened the ledger, thumbing to a
page. “I ingested fourteen Z this morning through Lumpy’s catches alone.”
I let out a slight whistle. That amount of Z in Tarb would go a long
way. It did equate to about forty-five small birds, though.
Asha chuckled, setting his knife back into its sheath and setting the
wooden arrow down. The elva said, “Lumpy is wonderful, and it feels like
cheating to have him catch birds while they sleep. However, we clearly
need a win. Alright, you’re serious about the training?”
I nodded, slurping up the rest of my soup. I went to the water
bucket to rinse the bowl out. After a quick dry with my robe, I set the bowl
and grabbed my shield.
“What should I do?” I asked.
“Well, I suggest getting out of your morning robe and into your
armor,” he said.
I grumbled but realized it was the right thing to do. My gear was
strung out to vent over the donkey. I bit my inner cheek to get through the
nasty stench until it became semi-normal. When I returned, Asha nodded in
approval.
“Better. Now I recommend holding your shield up and attacking
that tree,” Asha said, pointing to a random jungle tree at the edge of the
clearing.
“What? No special moves? No fancy footwork? Just swing at a
tree?” I asked, shocked. “That tree looks nice enough. What’d it do to
you?”
The elva chuckled and shook his head, enjoying the banter. “Have
you ever heard the saying of crawl, walk, run, and then soar? We use it for
our young, but it fits here.”
“Uh… yeah, I had a buddy's dad who was in the army. He used to
say that all the time, minus the soar part. I’m not following, though. Isn’t
attacking running in this instance?” I asked.
“If done correctly, indeed. You’re a youthful spirit, Boss. However,
you’re not a youth. I can’t build you up from scratch as I did before.
Therefore, I must mold the current you into the new you. Holding a shield
up and swinging a sword for an hour will leave you a huffing mess,” he
said.
“Alright, so it's muscle training for now,” I said, accepting his
guidance.
I withdrew my sword, raised the medium sized shield, and swung at
the palm tree. The blade buried into a flaking shell of bark type substance.
When I yanked the stuck blade free, it ripped the casing off the tree. Now
that I had extra weight on my sword, I had to pry off the blade.
“I assume that was part of my lessons,” I grumbled.
“Sure was. Always think about where your blade is going to end up
as much as how much damage it will do. If you fully drive your sword
through, let’s say, a minotaur’s back, and the big brute falls, your blade
won’t come free,” Asha said. “Now, if you drove your blade in only deep
enough to pierce the heart and yank it back out quickly, you might keep
your weapon in hand.”
I could rationalize this even if I had zero clue how deep a heart
went or how to control a jab to that degree.
“Does bone stick to a blade like this tree shell did?” I asked.
“Typically, no, but if I’m cutting bone, I’d dulling the blade and
having to increase the power of my swing. Therefore, a harder swing means
I have to plant my feet more firmly and am now exposed because my ability
to maneuver decreases,” Asha said with a smile.
I watched him pluck a few feathers, heading back to my training. I
knew if I did a few hundred pushups I would work my upper body muscles
just as well, but this way, I could feel the blade and the shield.
And feel the blade I did. The first obvious lesson was that I swung
a sword like a bat, and that grew old quick. I swapped to tighter movements
but still felt clunky in my abilities.
After fifteen minutes, my triceps and shoulders burned. Even my
shield arm became numb. I stopped whacking the tree, seeing my blade
appeared the same.
The weapon had come from a discard pile, and it never carried a
sharpened edge, and we had no whetstone. Another problem to add to our
growing list.
I plopped down by the dwindling fire and was handed a dead bird.
During my swings, Lumpy had vanished, leaving us to grab more kills.
I stared at the pigeon type parrot, zoned out in my thoughts as I
began to pluck feathers. Twenty or so minutes later, the burn in my arms
subsided. I rose from my spot and went back to work killing my pretend
foe, the glorious tree which could thwart my efforts with ease.
Bell and Jark practiced their water golem magic after Lumpy
returned with a live bird. Time passed quickly. Everyone found busy work
to improve their situation. By no means did we become masters, but we did
start a new routine.
By hour two, the birds were plucked, my arms were rubber, and I
realized it was time to move on. We left that clearing far earlier than I
expected, and I had to accept we had a long way to go, both in our
progression as warriors and our journey to the north.
CHAPTER 23
Ikara Valley
Skeleton goblin one led our party on the trail north through the
jungle by a few hundred paces. Off to the sides, Asha and Lumpy were
hunting parallel to our path. The other two skeletons stayed in the rear, and
the heavily laden donkey walked in front of me.
Bell had joined me to talk, the two of us having to shift from back
and forth and side to side often as the path widened and waned. The sibling
chatted away behind us, and we made decent progress.
“I have an issue,” Bell finally confessed.
“Alright,” I said, figuring something was up. She had that distant
look in her eyes and was constantly fidgeting with her brown hair by taking
from a ponytail and out over and over again.
“Jark,” she whispered, eyes darting over her shoulder.
I merely let out a grunt, dodging a tree root, and then holding back
a frond from whipping her face. Jark was and wasn’t a human. More
importantly, he acted within the parameters we set.
Could he betray us? No, I think it would run counter to his current
existence. Wonder what pissed her off to the length she’s whispering.
My lack of a response didn’t stop her from explaining. “He wants
to be romantically involved, and you stuck me in a tent with him and Asha.
I’m all for the occasional drunken debauchery, I’m a devout believer of
Caitlyn after all, but, Damien, it's… it’s odd. He’s warm, and he breathes,
but he’s literally undead.”
“Yeah, I get it, but I’ve seen Tarla dead twice now. The gods clearly
have powers beyond our understanding. Maybe he can be a full human
again and get taken off my minion list. If you were to ask me, that’s the
whole point of all of this, to turn to the gods for help,” I said, gesturing to
the greater world.
“Even if he was fully human, I’d. Arg, it’s hard to say these things,”
Bell grumbled as she struggled to find the words she sought. “Especially to
you. I’ve not been a lonely woman, except when I decided to.”
“You’re losing me, Bell,” I said, not catching on. “What’s the
problem and how can I help?”
“I woke up with Jark snuggled into me and his hands in places they
shouldn’t be,” she complained.
“That’s a valid complaint. When it was just us three in a tent, I also
had unintentional hand placements when I awoke,” I said.
“Yeah, but you always apologized, averted your eyes without me
forcing you to, and you never squealed with a giggle like a little boy,” Bell
said, adding a foot stomp along our trail.
“Ah, thank you for understanding there is a difference. I can fix the
problem in two ways. You can sleep with Tarla and -”
“That,” Bell said quickly.
I frowned, not loving the idea of forfeiting my snuggle partner.
Me and my big dumb mouth. But, it’s probably for the best since
I’m doing the long term chastity relationship building thing. A happy
priestess is probably for the best anyway.
“Done,” I said, and she muttered a thanks to Caitlyn. I almost told
her to thank me but moved by the petty retort. “If it gets worse, you become
really clear. If he becomes crazy attached, I think I can correct his behavior
with an order. I’d feel slimy doing that, though.”
“Yeah, and hence why I didn’t order him to stop being a perv.
Apparently, dying and being reborn as a ‘minion human’ doesn’t equate to
being devoid of desire, something to consider when you change them from
skeletons,” Bell said, already improving with her tone turning positive.
“How are you holding up otherwise?”
“Learning, feeling like I’ll hit my ten thousand mark relatively
easily,” I said, navigating the narrowing trail. “And then I swing a sword.
Yeah. I never trained for anything more than sleeping with beautiful
women, being a regular guy, and reading good books. Simple and boring
might work here, but it’d take a really long time.”
The jungle tended to blend in as one giant repetition of trees, vines,
bushes, and small wildlife. Quite often, large animals would rush away
from our approach, rightfully fleeing before hunters.
We trekked through the humid jungle with the sun directly
overhead. The myriad of colors became repetitive, and I hated wearing
armor in the thick moist air. A few minutes of silence passed when Bell
sighed as if bored.
“Lumpy does amazing work,” Bell said proudly. She joined my
side when the path expanded up a hill. “I - I - I wanted to thank you. For a
few reasons. You seem to believe in me even as a water mage. Your
encouraging words come with no strings attached.”
“Ha, yeah, I’m comfortable speaking to women. More importantly,
even though I spent my school, college, and post college years being a
womanizer, I was perfectly fine if it didn’t lead to anything. I know that all
chances of an ‘us’ were ruined on that fateful day that feels like months
ago, I’d still like to be your honest friend,” I admitted and continued with,
“and I’d like to think you’ll be a wonderful mage, whether you end up a
High Priestess or not.”
Her hair went back into a ponytail, and she thumbed the bow’s
sinew that hung diagonally across her chest.
“Thanks. Sometimes it's nice to hear encouragement. I sorta needed
a smidge of affirmation. I really miss my father, and to some extent, even
my mom.” I could see her steps lighten and her mood already improving.
“How are you handling the thought of seeing your parents again?”
I shrugged and asked, “You ever have those unattainable goals that
you give up on?” Her reaction was instant puzzlement. “Sheesh, who am I
kidding? That’s the opposite of a devout. I admire you for your tenacity.
Me, I’m a quitter. I normally give up if anything becomes too much of a
burden.” I sighed, ducking under a limb. “Look, clearly I’m changing. Life
has thrown me a whole new reality, and I’m suddenly training hard in the
morning after saying no to sex.”
Bell giggled at this, and I joined her with a chuckle. I had to cut in
front of her for a narrowing of bushes. I glanced at her over my shoulder,
flicking my head back and forth as I tried to talk and watch her at the same
time.
I stepped down a hill, hearing water surging up ahead.
Finally, a break. This leather armor in the jungle is the worst.
“I guess my point is that we’re a team, and I’m here for you, even if
-”
My vision dimmed.
I shuddered violently and then collapsed, my body refusing to send
messages to my muscles. The gritty brown terrain rushed up to smack my
face.
Without any control, I tumbled downhill while vomiting. My nose
shattered. A crack erupted from my left wrist, and I tumbled down hill for
at least a dozen feet until I wrapped a tree.
I groaned, shock setting in as I saw my left forearm a ruined mess.
Goblin Minion 1 has died. Penalty one hundred mana. You
have hit 0 mana. Mana exhaustion initiated for one hour and seventeen
minutes. You have one hour to rebuild your minions. You may use
Zorta to restore your mana.
Hell yes, I was going to restore my mana. It was cheap to do so at
these levels and screw recovering in agony. Never doing that again.
Consume .14 Zorta to recover 122 mana. -92 owed + 30 to full
recovery. (YES) - (NO)
The overwhelming dizziness abated, and I immediately touched my
arm and said, “Heal self.”
Green magic burst out of my hand, coating my broken forearm with
tendrils that reminded me of a flowering vine. I watched in apt fascination
as the healing magic repaired the damage from the fall.
A series of bone fragments flew from the dirt to return into my arm,
and I had to imagine they did so without infectious stuff on them. A minute
later, I was back to being a semblance of okay.
“What happened?” Bell asked, her bow off her back with an arrow
nocked.
Right, right. I should be worried too. A dead minion meant danger.
I rose to my feet to pull out my sword and said, “Minion one died.”
“From what?” Asha asked, sneaking out of the bushes.
I jolted from his sudden arrival. “How the hell should I know?” I
snapped. I was literally covered in vomit, blood, and had a good reason to
be sour. All this was not who I was deep down. I calmed and added, “It
doesn’t tell me what killed my minion.”
I went to the donkey to get my shield.
“Right, I’ll -” I started to say when a loud neighing from below
increased in volume.
The sound of angry hooves smacking against river stones reached
us, and as one, we readied for battle.
A massive white stallion came charging up our trail with Lumpy
chasing him our way. Bell and I lowered weapons and stuck our hands out,
trying to calm the horse.
“Back up Lumpy, everyone stay calm,” I ordered, surprised by the
authority in my voice.
The horse slowed, recognizing humans for what they were, friends.
The stallion pranced up to Bell, nestling into her chest. I could certainly
relate to the big guy.
“Are you an animal whisperer?” I asked.
“No, I’m a water mage,” she replied as if I were the crazy one.
Ah, apparently there is magic to talk to animals.
“What’s going on?” Tarla asked, catching up.
“Uh, we found a really nice horse, but someone killed my -” I
paused when Bell plucked a bone out of the horse's mouth. “Uh… be on
guard, but we may have found the culprit that killed my goblin. Asha, go
scout. Lumpy, I need you to secure the area.”
“I hear a river,” Jark said, and his sister slugged his arm.
“Damien, are you okay? I heard you cry out.” Tarla grabbed a rag
from within her robe to clean my face. “Already looking better. You poor
thing. We need you in a wagon or something to avoid falling if a minion
dies.”
While I liked the idea, we were on a game trail, not a cleared road.
Even a hand cart would need to be picked up half the time. An expensive
horse, though, now that would work wonders.
“This horse is expensive,” Bell said, bonding with the animal.
“Like really, really expensive. It’s all white, a few hands taller than the
average stallion, and it has enchanted armor too.”
Bell’s hazel eyes tracked the animal, matching her fascinated tone.
“Wonder where the rider is?” I asked with furled brows.
I checked the armor for pockets and the saddle for clues. I saw
frayed twine where a carrying sack had likely been ripped off.
“So many questions,” Tarla said.
We didn’t have to wait long for Asha to shout, “It’s clear.”
Our small party headed down the trail for the river. The constant
noise of rapids increased. Based on the volume, we were nearing a fast
section.
When the trees and bushes transitioned to the stones of the
riverbank, the space opened up in a way I never expected.
I saw white water rushing unnaturally between trees. On earth, not
many trees grew in rapids, if any. In this world, there were bamboo type
trunks and even bushes on vines with roots extending to the water.
The shoreline contained smooth river rocks that dominated the
separation between water and jungle. A few boulders rested in the space.
Far fewer were in the water then I expected.
I glanced left and right, seeing a fairly straight river that stretched a
good distance on both sides.
“Your goblin died near the water over here. I’m not sure where the
stallion came from because the river stones make it hard to track,” Asha
said. I went to ask why when our feet indented them, leaving an easy path
to track when he continued, “He slept here last night and the fight with your
goblin created a mess. The area is clear. I just need more time.”
“What is your gut telling you?” I asked, and he frowned. “Your
intuition.”
“Oh, that some noble came into the valley from the north and died
or was captured. Seeing as how the heavily armored horse didn’t drown and
has a dry saddle, I doubt the river killed our hero. Give me an hour or two,”
Asha said, and I nodded.
I went to the goblin remnants and realized they were beyond saving
even if I wanted to restore him. Another minion dead. I didn’t feel anything.
Talking with Tarla about swimming while snuggling was very
heartwarming. Staring down at the splintered bones of one of my worthless
minions? I felt nothing.
Lumpy returned with some sort of large frog, and I smiled when he
spat the wounded animal out at Bell’s feet. I knew the jenix was delivering
a present for Bell. Jark even started chanting his long lightning spell.
The warhorse, for that is surely what the fine animal was, squished
the frog with a single stomp well before Bell started to chant a water golem
summoning spell. The gleeful neighing told me the horse had a vindictive
side.
Bell stuck her hands on her hips and stomped a foot. “Hey, I could
have used that to level,” Bell said and the horse nickered apologetically.
“Who’s a good boy?” She bent down and pet Lumpy. “The other skeletons
are my friends, okay? You leave them alone, please.”
A lip smack and snorting reply left me confused as to how smart
the horse was. He clearly understood her either through tone, posturing, or
words.
“Goblins, collect firewood for a nice lunch. We’ll kill fish while we
wait for Asha to figure out where we cross this river and if we have a foe
nearby to fight,” I said, not liking the fact we stood idle.
Bell glanced at me and said, “Sometimes I forget I thrived on
fishing with my magic. This should be fun. Only smash heads, Lumpy and
Charlie.”
“Charlie is a good name,” Tarla said in a patronizing tone that the
horse delighted in. She got on the big guy's side when Bell neared the
water’s edge.
I prepared my sword, not sure what to expect.
Bell’s hands danced rapidly, agitating the river’s surface with two
swirling spots. The concentrated magic spun tightly, siphoning off the river
until it flew into her hands. She muttered a chant, picking up the intensity
and volume of the water.
“River, know thy will, and onto the shore; life, you will spill. River,
know thy will, and onto the shore; life, you will spill. River, know thy will,
and onto the shore; life, you will spill,” her voice reached a crescendo.
Magic shot out of her palms. What I saw astounded me. A massive
square of river vibrated, sending a geyser of water high and round the main
section she controlled. The shaking increased until the chunk of river
gyrated off the main body of water.
She raised the block of magically contained water, shifting it to
hover over the shore.
Droplets of water rained down, but the main section remained solid.
The magic marveled with the sun blasting through the clean water to reveal
a whole lot of confused fish trying to swim away and hitting an invisible
wall.
My momentary distraction of amazement ended when I realized
that if I didn’t move the spell would drench me. I walked up the shoreline
and waited. Bell continued moving her spell, a crack forming in the bottom
central point.
Her face scrunched and her breathing intensified as she struggled.
The large brick of water became too much, and her hands fell to her side in
defeat.
Like a damn bursting, the middle collapsed, sending a gush of
water downward.
Bell, Jark, and Tarla were all instantly soaked from the sudden
torrent, and even I got wet from the splash.
Any cries of shock ended when the sound of flopping fish meant
the great hunt was on.
Lumpy and I worked the shoreline, jabbing down to end fish before
they could jump back into the water.
I used light jabs with tired arms, killing methodically when I could.
I had to be honest with myself on the fourth fish. My hand eye coordination
left me jabbing stones instead of rapidly moving targets.
I only killed four fish by the time it was over. Even the horse had
done better.
Bell said, “There’s so many here I can rejuvenate my mana and
keep going. I’ve never seen anything like it in my life.”
The sound of footsteps approaching pulled our attention from the
joyful victory.
“That’s because this is a fish preserve,” Asha said, returning with a
long face. He stuck his hands on his hips and said, “I found out where the
horse came from, and we have a tough choice ahead.”
CHAPTER 24
Ikara Valley
“A cyclops?” I blurted.
“Yeah, at least five of them, and each over a hundred feet tall.
They’re roasting three humans and two horses over the fire,” Asha said.
“They have traps and hiding spots dug into their clearing. Right tricky
bastards.”
I paused, taking a deep breath.
Ouch. I could only imagine they came to kill one, found out there
were five, and died for their mistake.
“Is there a safe bridge we can use?” Tarla asked.
Asha nodded and said, “There is one, but it’s not exactly safe. They
live on both sides at a quieter part of the river. The cyclops are so big it's
easy for them to step over the river. They fish with big nets, and based on
the tracks, they don’t come to this part of the river because the tonko trees
make netting impossible. The fish are safe here, and based on the fact the
horses and humans' guts were dumped in the water…”
He let the sentence hang, and I suddenly realized it was probable
that I became drenched in human remains. Tarla also made the connection
and vomited. I walked over, holding her fiery locks out of her way.
“Yeah, it's actually not too far, so try to limit the crazy magic or
loud noises. It gets worse or maybe better,” Asha said, talking while Bell
conjured clean water from the air to blast Tarla. “There’s a troll village to
the south with goblins tending fields while the fat trolls relax. They have a
bridge too, but it would likely result in a fight if we tried to use it. The bad
news is they’re not all fat and there’s a decent amount of cerberus guarding
their slave workers. We would need to use trickery or patience to win that
battle.”
“Like three headed dogs?” I asked.
“Yes, hip high. Not much bigger than Lumpy,” Tarla said.
I saw a water spell readying for me. I closed my eyes, and Bell
drenched me in fresh water. This only compounded our current issue of
needing a rest with everyone now being wet.
The clack of dropping wood brought my attention to the skeletal
goblins. The duo piled dry firewood down the beach, and I had a decision to
make with limited information.
“How close are they? Are you sure we can't get away with lunch if
the cyclops are eating?” I asked, hearing my tummy rumbling.
I knew we needed to dry our clothes at the very least.
“Likely, but I’d avoid it. My intuition is saying to go towards the
goblins and trolls, like now,” he said, cultivating fish orbs until they flopped
to the stones. He plucked his pile and handed them to Bell. “The cyclops
are laughing over a large fire at the moment. Having one ourselves might
work, but if it doesn’t, we simply cannot outrun a hundred-foot tall cyclops.
Even if we all had nice horses and great gear. Clearly it didn’t help the
human knights.”
“No lunch it is then. Everyone, collect the orbs as quickly as
possible, and we’ll move down river to reassess the situation. Go ahead,
Asha. Take Lumpy too,” I said, and the duo headed east. “Goblins, carry -”
I paused, snapping my fingers.
All eyes focused on me, and I waved Asha back.
I wagged a finger as the plan coalesced in my head.
Yes, yes, that would be epic.
“The gear,” I said, eying Asha.
He frowned. “Tossed in a pile by the river with other discarded
loot. It’s within eyesight of the fire, and they’ll smell me if I get that close.
If I cross the bridge, I’ll be spotted. Who knows what’s lurking in those
waters if I swim across, but I doubt I could swim with the stolen loot back
too.”
“How about the goblins and the donkey?” I asked.
“Hmm… The donkey would be too loud for the bridge, but I think
I’m catching on. The undead don’t smell, don’t drown, and can use the river
as cover. If you give me the goblins, I can try, but what’s the goal? Just a
blade? Or armor too?” he asked.
“Anything. A fine blade by a knight would be worth more than a
five Z goblin,” I said. “This seems like a great opportunity to make them
useful. They’re shit at catching animals compared to Lumpy.”
“If this is what you want, give me until morning and don’t go
beyond the bend in the river. I bet they feast and nap or at least become
slightly sedated,” Asha said.
Bell cleared her throat but Tarla beat her to it and said, “Damien,
maybe don’t mess with the cyclops.”
Asha sighed and said, “Normally, poking the cyclops is a bad idea.
I actually like this one. The goblins can walk under the river, slowly exit,
grab loot, and come back to me. By morning, we will cut through the jungle
to reach you, and they won’t be able to track our smell or prints.”
“Won’t the skeletons float?” I asked.
Asha walked over to a broken piece of trampled goblin from the
horse. He dropped it into the water, and it sank.
“We could always weigh them down. Have them carry a rock
across and then the gear back,” Bell said. “I guess we have to find a spot to
hunker down in. If Damien loses more minions it will render him useless.”
Jark said, “If this works, we have a bunch of clangy metal to haul
for the next week,” he grumbled, adding, “Through hostile lands.”
“It won’t clank if there’s fifty goblins carrying it,” Asha said, and I
smirked with him. I nodded to egg him on to tell me his plan. “With that
horse and you in heavy armor distracting the enemy, Lumpy and I can
easily kill the cerberus guards.”
“And the trolls overlords?” Bell asked with concern.
“Patience. One thing at time. We need to do a thorough scouting of
that bridge anyway. In the meantime, this looks like, what, twenty Zorta?”
Asha asked, pointing at the dead fish scattered among the rocks.
Bell was the fisherwomen. She shook her head and said, “Ten at
most, but there’s enough here I can drain a good portion of this river if I use
Z to refresh my mana. Too bad about the laddered costs. If those weren’t an
issue, I could drain the whole thing.”
I went to ask about what laddered costs were when Asha caught on.
He interjected, likely wanting to start now and said, “Permission to try
goblin river thieving. I need to dump the bags off the donkey.”
“Granted. Goblin Two and Goblin Three, you are to follow Asha’s
orders,” I said and kneeled to Lumpy. “You’re my main guard. Go secure
the area and return whenever your Mistress puts fish on the shoreline.”
“Mistress,” Tarla said with folded arms.
“He means me,” Bell said with her nose up in the air.
I rolled my eyes. “Ladies, Bell is a pet whisperer. Lumpy loves her.
End of story. Nothing more to it. Now, tell me about laddered costs.”
“You refresh your mana, and the first cost in a day is cheap.
Refresh your mana a few times, and the cheap goes away. Do it a dozen,
and you’re burning hundreds per refresh. Beyond that, even the kings
avoid,” Bell said then turned to Tarla and added, “Sorry, I came off as
snippy. I’m in need of lunch and dry clothes.”
Tarla came near, wiped my cheek with a different linen then before,
and kissed the clean spot softly. “I can cook the fish with high mana burn
and not have any smoke. Or boil a stew, same thing. I just need to refresh
my mana if we get in a fight.”
“Alright, we cultivate the fish and leave them. We can always get
more later,” I said.
Jark cleared his throat. “I can claim or consume. Which do you
want me to do?”
“Wait, you can self-upgrade?” I asked with a shocked tone.
“Yes, Boss,” he said shyly.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out he wanted to level. If he
consumed the fish from Zorta, it would make him closer to an upgrade. We
didn’t want to carry the orbs and needed to hurry.
“Consume,” I said.
I already had a twenty surplus of Zorta, so I decided to let the
others stock up. I swirled a spell to connect to Jark so I could see his
profile.
Human Minion: Jark.
Health 11/11. Level 2
Sapient Human.
Memories intact.
Fighting Abilities: Weak.
Spell Abilities: Mediocre
Upgrade Available. Consume 7/61 mana and 19.75 Zorta for a
total of 73.75 Zorta (YES) or (NO)
I watched the 19 slowly tick down until it rested at sixteen.
Hmm… interesting. I definitely wanted to see what would happen
with him. I bet he becomes a giant at some point.
“And done,” Tarla said happily.
I glanced up to see the fish sitting on the rocks without cultivation
orbs accessible. Charlie huffed with a neigh of boredom.
“Towards the trolls we go,” I said, hefting a bag.
Jark grabbed the other bag, and we followed the river’s edge as it
ran downslope. For a good five minutes, we walked in silence, the roar of
the water keeping us company. A few times, I saw buildup sticks between
the firm stalks jetting out of the rapids.
Hmm… maybe we could cross here if we built a small raft. We still
have a decent amount of rope.
Lumpy exited the jungle, dragging out a snake with a trot, happy of
his kill. The diamond headed creature had gills, centipede feet, and big
fangs. The viper type creature’s mouth flexed up and down, even though it
was clearly dead.
“Rivers are dangerous. I might pull some of these out after lunch so
we should be careful. Especially if you struggle with swinging a sword,”
Bell said with concern. I ate the slight jab because it was true. “Even if I
want to skip it, I earned enough points to upgrade as a water mage again.
Two hundred and twelve Z needed. I’ll just have to start saving.”
“We can invest in you,” I said immediately. This second comment
bothered me more than the jest about my sword skills. “Look, I know we
decided to save the ten Z orbs, but we don’t have to. A level eight -”
“Nine,” Bell interjected.
“A level nine water mage is beneficial to all of us,” I said.
She sighed. “I don’t think it’s worth the unlock. I’d rather upgrade
Lumpy two or three times and know we’re getting a fiercer feline.”
“I wish it told us what to expect ahead of time,” Tarla said. “I had a
guide at one point but sold it when times became tough.”
“Is it always equal?” I asked.
“It goes by magic type, but yes. Your costs will likely be
documented by someone before you for your healing magic. So, when you
hit level seven, you will know that means 275 Z for a bigger heal and five
extra mana. Or whatever it is,” Jark said.
Our conversation went on pause when Lumpy patted a paw for
attention near the treeline.
“Guess we should follow him,” I said.
We were still on the straight and rapid section of the river. I figured
we followed Asha’s advice by shifting far enough. We left the shoreline for
the thick vegetation. A few minutes in, and a big tree fell over, the roots
soaring high.
A rock beside the spot provided a nice little alcove, and a half
dozen eggs rested nearby without a nest.
“How do eggs work?” I asked.
“They mature and then hatch,” Bell said with a giggling snort.
I rolled my eyes, and Tarla saved me by saying, “No Z from
smashing an egg. These will not be edible and actually will be worth
something if we can make a basket for them.” She cued into my
puzzlement. “Ah, breeding livestock from the Ostriva lands is a great
source of Z. There is no easy way to start breeding without making a
journey to lands filled with minotaurs, cyclops, and more. Not to mention a
farmer might get on hard times and slaughter their stock to stay alive.”
“You know, maybe that is the life for me,” I said, setting the heavy
bag beside the eggs.
I glanced up, seeing a few openings through the canopy. A series of
clouds rolled overhead, quickly blotting the sun.
“Best prepare for rain, set up the canvas as a tarp, and start a fire
now. If we couldn’t see a cyclops’ roaring fire, I doubt they’ll see ours
when it is broken up by the canopy and the rain starts.”
“Charlie will smell them if they come. Won’t you, Charlie?” Bell
asked, being sweet to the horse.
Tarla went into my bag and retrieved a preserving jar. She glanced
at the jar and then the eggs, visually sizing them up. While I collected
firewood, she collected leaves.
A few minutes later, I had a decent teepee fire structure setup, and
she had the eggs tucked away in jars with leaves for matting. Jark and Bell
managed to tie off our wagon canvas as a barrier from the beginning of a
light shower.
Tarla packed the eggs back into the bag. “They might survive, they
might not,” Tarla said with a shrug. When she finished with the bag, she
knelt down to apply a small flame to the bottom of the fire. “If they die, or
we dump them for berries, so be it.”
“Earlier, you looked at those eggs as if you’d be a simple farmer,”
Jark said.
I waited to answer, just like I had waited to start a deep
conversation until we could relax. Now that we had a small fire going, I
removed my armor to set it by the fire. My feet thanked me a thousand
times when I pried my boots off.
I dug into the bag to get my sandals and a set of dry under clothes. I
only spun to change, not willing to go into the wood to get naked.
Tarla and Bell used robes as makeshift changing blockers.
Eventually, we all were in dry clothes, listening to the crackle of a fire. The
soft drumming of rain hitting our cover brought a tranquility to the
situation.
Lumpy showed up with one of the big fish, and I went about
fileting the best slabs off.
“This right here,” I said, pointing to the fish I cut on the rock.
“Never done it before. I’m probably doing it wrong, but we can pick a few
bones out.”
“I can teach you,” Jark said. He left his seat and traded places with
me. I observed while he sliced behind the gills and up toward the head.
When he hit the spine, he changed the blade’s direction, running it down to
the tail. “You cut the ribs out after, at least on these smaller fish. Watching
should be enough. There’s not much to talk you through. Please, tell me
why the mage with two magics wants to be a farmer.”
“Well, think about it logically. I can buy miscee near death and
when they die, turn them into the undead and then socially accepted living
undead. Or whatever species the current human kingdom has. If I never
leave a farm, the downside is little, I’ll never have to take risks, and who
cares if my Ostriva points are through the roof. Others will go to town for
me,” I said.
“Caitlyn would expect you to be a conquering hero,” Bell said
unhappily.
I shook my head. “You know, she never said much besides the cost
to ascend. Look, clearly my fate is heading for adventure and excitement.
You don’t get stuck between trolls and cyclops in a jungle when you
become an animal herder.”
“It’s just a farmer, Damien. You also don’t get to sit around a fire
with me in my underwear as a farmer,” Tarla said.
“Ha!” I chuckled at this, ensuring I didn’t get too loud. “Just
wanted to say I can and maybe should take the safe bet here. And here
comes the proof.”
Lumpy arrived with a second fish. This one had an orb. The large
feline dripped water, telling me he went hunting in the river. I let the others
absorb the Z while I diced up the body, following Jark’s guidance.
“I certainly wouldn’t mind a nice home. A base really would do
wonders for my spirit. I miss warm baths, nice sheets, and comfy pillows. I
can get all those things here and make the most of my situation. Yes, a base
brightens my hope. A big fireplace, I’d really like a big fireplace,” I said.
“A hearth is where the home is. Winters aren’t too bad in Tarb.
They’re worse further north,” Bell said. “You are onto something, though.
We will have issues getting you into and out of respectable cities. But, if we
do get you in, you can literally be prosperous with dual magic and take
minimal risks.”
And that was how our conversation went for the next few hours.
We talked through about a hundred what-if scenarios concerning the future.
I knew that going too far into the future would be pointless because we had
to survive today, tomorrow, and the trip out of Ostriva lands.
Eventually, we set up tents while processing the fish Lumpy
brought to us. The rain left us building up stick beds to get off the muddy
forest floor.
When it grew dark, I shifted into a tent with a confused Jark. I
didn’t make any comments, and I was fairly certain the message was clear.
The calm day had left me restless and curious as to how Asha was
doing. The bonus part was that I hadn’t had a goblin die… yet. I went to
bed hoping I didn’t awake with mana exhaustion, knowing tomorrow would
mean either we fought for a bridge or dangerously crossed a river.
CHAPTER 25
Ikara Valley
A hand stirred me awake until I pried my eyes open. I propped
myself up to see a dim firelight revealing Asha with a big grin on his face.
“We need to go scouting,” he said.
I nodded, still coming out of my sleepy haze. Exiting the tent, I saw
the fire had died down from being unattended. I walked over to get into my
battle gear, noticing the donkey laden with stringed together items via rope.
The cyclops had clearly killed a lot of folks, and Asha’s trip had
been successful. A brown eyed redhead poked her head out with a face
scrunched in confusion.
“Morning my lovely lady. Whose turn is it on guard?” I asked.
“Mine,” Bell said, exiting the trees with semi-dry sticks. She
inclined her head to the donkey. “I’ll bundle the loot the best I can. Looks
like there was good rope in this gear.”
“Go ahead and break camp, make breakfast, be ready to run south
just in case,” I said, sliding my leather armor on.
“Yes, Boss,” Jark said from inside the tent. “We’ll be ready to go…
but Charlie may need to ditch his armor.”
I glanced at the horse, seeing what he meant. The stallion’s armor
was meant to charge into battle, and we needed help carrying gear. The
donkey couldn’t carry everything.
“I concur, ditch the armor, but keep the saddle. We need to go. Let
them ready the stuff while we scout, and I catch you up,” Asha said.
I finished lacing my boots up and reached down to stretch my
calves. Every time I went scouting with Asha, it was at a jog until we
arrived at our observation point.
Asha headed over to the loot pile atop the donkey and fetched a
weapon. He handed me an exquisite blade with a gem in the handle. I rose
to my feet and strapped it around my waist, finding its previous owner
almost a match to my size.
As I pulled the blade out to study it, Asha ducked from under the
canvas cover and into the night.
Guess he really wants to go now.
I followed after him. The rain beat down hard, and I huffed,
knowing this wasn’t going to be fun. Even though I thought it would suck, I
grinned. The rain drenched me, the canopy blocked out any residual light,
and I had to pretty much hold onto Asha to keep pace.
I guess that summarized my adventure on Nordan with parts of
Ostriva to this point. It was dangerous, scary, and still infinitely thrilling. I
laughed quietly, the noise of us crashing through the bushes as thunderous
as the roar after distant lightning.
Occasionally, we would slow to jump or climb over a fallen tree. A
few times, I needed help navigating a drop. The second we cleared an
obstacle, Asha sprinted off again. I lost track of time with the lack of sun
and endless dangers to avoid.
Eventually, we paused, my adjusted vision seeing the trees coming
to an end. I couldn’t see a village or anything much because we were still
fairly far back.
Asha shifted at this point, crouch walking for the last bit of
vegetation. When he reached the end of the tree line, he laid down. I
mimicked his movements until we were only a few feet away from a field
of lettuce.
“Alright, some things about what to expect. A cerberus has
amazing vision and smell. Their hearing is opposite of a normal dog. It's
shit because three mouths are breathing and the lungs are raspy,” Asha said
quietly.
I glanced out, seeing half a field and nothing else. My vision simply
didn’t go any farther with the gloomy overcast sky.
“What are we looking at?” I asked.
“The sun will start to rise in a few minutes. I can see clearly. A few
goblins are up and strategically placed. They sit on barrels as alerts. They’re
tied to a bell. They die, the bell rings. They get frightened, the bell rings.
Easy to avoid and three of the four are asleep at their post,” he said.
“Alright, well, what were you thinking for a plan?” I asked.
“We sit here all morning, all day, go to sleep early, and raid about
an hour before dawn,” Asha said.
“Tomorrow?” I asked.
“Yes, this is something to do right and not rush,” he said.
Seeing as how I had led zero raids and could barely swing a sword,
I figured it was wise to listen to his advice.
The sky didn’t glow when the sun did crest the horizon. The rain
fell heavily, thoroughly drenching us. The clouds did lighten a bit and over
the next ten minutes, I could start to make out the outline of the village.
“Well, since we’re not in danger and waiting for the sun to lighten
the day, tell me about the cyclops being robbed by skeleton goblins,” I said
with a slight chuckle, enjoying the image of them thieving I had in my
head.
“Uh, the cyclops drank after they feasted. An hour or two later, they
passed out. I sent the donkey and the goblins over the bridge, figuring there
were lurking monsters below the water. Technically, we could have crossed
the bridge if we had rushed nearby as a group,” he said, and I blanched.
“Yeah, goblins are loud. I even had to run across and latch all the loot. I just
put the goblins closer to the snoring behemoths so if they woke, I wasn’t the
first to die.”
“Wait, we could have crossed the river already?” I whispered in
dismay.
“Yeah, probably. But they should be waking about now, and by the
time I got you, we broke down camp and so forth. It would have been too
close to call. Anyway, I waited until the first one woke up. He pissed in the
river and even noticed the loot pile was shorter. Scratched his ass then went
back to bed without a care,” Asha said. “Just a guess, but I bet they use that
pile as a treasure trap to the locals. Probably get pilfered by goblins
regularly.”
“Damn,” I said. “Think they’ll follow your tracks since they
know?”
“Full disclosure, not a clue. Cyclops are feared by my kind. I’ve
never been hunted by one because they tend to stick to open spaces, and I
use the trees,” he admitted.
“What did you get besides this awesome sword?”
Asha smirked and said, “A lot of expensive armor. Best to sell it to
the dwarves because some of it can and will be traced back to who owned
it. Last thing you need is to go to Nara, the human city north of here, and
get arrested for selling heirlooms. I also found some journals and personal
effects. We got time for a story.
“A father came out to slay the cyclops who are known to live there.
Actually, once we cross this bridge, we will go through the jungle and onto
the cyclops road that leads to civilization.
“Back to the story. The father and his party died. His last journal
entry said they found two cyclops with a hoard of treasure. In another book,
I found out that the next summer the eldest son led a mission, going on and
on about how his father would be revenged. He thought there was only one
cyclops. The final journal was of some random group of nobles set out to
avenge their subjects.”
He shook his head in dismay.
“Basically, they keep coming in small numbers and never learn
their lesson,” I said.
“Exactly, and that cyclops that woke up in the middle of the night
to piss? He would have likely found us based on my timing estimate. If any
of those three groups had sat on their motivations and spent a few days
scouting, they’d have learned the actual fact that there’s at least five cyclops
in that clearing. Alright, I’ll be back in an hour to relieve you. Lumpy is
right there. If you get in trouble, whistle for Charlie,” Asha said, readying to
leave.
“I don’t know how to ride a horse,” I said.
He stared at me like I was crazy. Or maybe he thought I was stupid
for saying such a dumb joke.
Instead of commenting, he shimmied backwards and disappeared
into the bush behind me.
Lumpy lightly stepped through the bush to keep me company. I
petted him slightly, just once to thank him for joining me.
The thin, early morning clouds moved quickly, shifting from rain to
scattered sunshine. Over the next half hour, a village no bigger than Yew
Wood came to life.
Goblins scrubbed streets, pushing the muck into divots that ran
toward the river. A pack of three-headed dogs followed the trails to get
some water. Even though the day had started, activity was minimal and it
almost felt as if it were a weekend.
Instead of walls, crudely constructed caltrops separated the fields
from the structures. The village itself only had a few actual buildings. Most
of the interior buildings were lean-tos or three walled stables.
Jungle fronds provided roofs in thick mats. Overall, the village
seemed in decent shape. This was a step above what I had expected. It was
almost as if they killed some Amish folks and stole their village. When I
saw the goblins working roofs, streets, and general maintenance, it was easy
to conclude they weren’t mindless nose pickers.
Fires burned breakfast stews, and I didn’t see a troll until about a
half hour after it stopped raining. I did get to learn goblins had magic;
nothing super powerful, but they did some light training - a fact that also
impressed me.
The troll stood taller than me with lanky limbs pointing at goblins
to hone their magic. About a quarter of the goblins rotated through a line,
arriving for instructions one at a time. The troll trainer wore light armor and
carried javelins in a long quiver that dangled off his back.
Based on the size of the village, I surmised there were at most fifty
goblins, ten cerberus, and a dozen trolls. Eventually, the troll children came
out, running to the bridge to play a game of kickball with a goblin skull.
The joys of Nordan.
For whatever reason, I watched them playing with little thought.
They’d grow up to be slave masters of goblins and war against humans. Not
much would change that fact.
Hours passed with nothing of note happening. Right when Tarla
snuck up to join my spot, the big chief troll exited his home. This strivian
was huge. He had triple belly rolls and legs so thick they rubbed as he
waddled.
Goblins rushed ahead of him and jumped to the river, splashing
around. When he neared, he barked at the goblins to exit.
“Interesting that he tests the water,” Tarla commented.
We watched three female trolls head out of the large home, joining
the chief in the water. A pack of cerberus trotted on both sides of the ladies,
and for the first time, we saw the full force. Nine cerberus, eight warrior
trolls, ten female trolls, two dozen younglings of varying ages, and over
fifty goblins.
“That is a lot for our small group,” I grumbled.
“Yeah, and look.” Tarla nodded his head in that direction. “There’s
goblins lined up to air dry them as they come out. They have magic.”
Sure enough, one of the lower caste who had bathed exited the
water and headed for the goblins. The four minions burst a wind spell onto
the warrior to dry him off.
“I can’t think of how we kill all this,” I said.
“Is there a reason you didn’t sleep with me last night?” Tarla asked
while we watched.
“Uh… yeah. Your brother has been perving on Bell, and she’s not
interested,” I said.
“Hmm… I’d rather sleep with you, if you don’t mind,” she said.
I leaned over and kissed her cheek and said, “Sure, we can combine
the tents again or something. The problem will fix itself in due time when
we find a proper home.”
“Are you wanting to fight all this?” Tarla asked.
I huffed, not having a good answer. Even if I wanted to view this as
a game scenario, the odds were horrific. Fifty mages, even if they were
weak, was already a lot to consider. When you added everything else to the
mix, it became a daunting task.
“I’m fairly certain we can use their bridge at night,” I said.
Asha slithered up beside me and said, “Ah, the prime bath time for
the village. This should be most of what they have. I have a plan. It starts
with...”
I listened intently, and when he was done, I carefully headed back
to where the others camped a few hundred feet into the jungle.
Our cooking pot steamed a stew without a fire, telling me that Tarla
likely had used a spell to heat it. Jark and Bell scrubbed the recovered
armor with rags and clean water. The skeletal donkey stood holding most of
our supplies. Its vacant eye slots followed me with curiosity, as if wishing I
would remove his burden.
We needed the camp ready to go, even if Charlie had the large
camping rucks off his body.
Since I hadn’t eaten breakfast, I helped myself to a few bowls of
fish stew. When I finished, I found the shitty old sword, walked into the
woods further from the tree line, and swung the weapon.
As I went, I upgraded my stats to help with the fatigue.
Name: Damien Moonguard
Race: Human
Affiliation: Ostriva
Zorta: 22.177
Nordan Score: 4600
Ostriva Score: 207,500
Location: Ikara Valley
Magic Type: Healer
Healer Level: 4
Magic Type 2: Necromancer
Necromancy Level: 3
Necromancer Minions: 6/15
Fighting Level: Pathetic Plus
Mana: 30/30
Mana Recharge: 5
Strength: 7
Stamina: 6
Dexterity: 5
Constitution: 8
Willpower: 7
Cultivation: 9
Intelligence: 29
Wisdom: 29
Charisma: 22
Tracking: 5
Endurance: 8
Perception: 13
Burst: 6
Reflex: 6
Healing: 6
Melee Combat: 5
Aim: 2
Hunger: 1
Thirst: 1
Aging: 59 years until death.
Across the board, I was leveling up nicely. My core stats were
improving, and even though I had built more muscle mass, I hadn’t seen a
big change in my strength. I rationalized it as a divergence between the
statistics the god’s used and my physical body.
A level one hundred strength goblin was maybe a thing. If that was
the case, the muscle mass to support that would equate to the goblin
becoming ogre sized. At the same time, if a cyclops was a one in strength
from being cased in a spider web for years, it wouldn’t lose a hundred feet
and become the size of a goblin.
Basically, the gods were encouraging both sides to become
champions while keeping them looking healthy in accordance with their
species.
I physically was improving without a doubt. Probably from
constantly being on the run with a soup diet. I almost felt like I was back to
my high school body. A few more weeks of training and grueling marching,
and I’d probably be at a peak fitness.
After an hour or so of trying to improve my sword swinging by
killing trees, I retired to the group.
When I arrived, Jark finished rubbing out a blood stain in armor
and eyed me hesitantly. The white haired man always looked off since he
had lost his red hair while keeping the face full of freckles.
“Yes,” I said, knowing he wanted something.
“Can I upgrade? We went to the river again while you were
scouting, and I’m under ten Z needed,” he asked.
Bell eyed me and said, “It’ll help with the plan. We should upgrade
at least him and Lumpy.”
Lumpy arrived from under a bush as if he were listening. He spat a
lizard out at Bell’s feet.
“Thanks, my handsome little Lumpy,” Bell said. She pointed to the
lizard for me to absorb. “This spot should be good enough to do an upgrade.
The spell doesn’t shoot out of the sky like a revival.”
I closed my eyes, reaching out with my spirit to find the lizard’s
orb. I consumed the .014 Zorta, adding it to an ever growing pile.
With my aura still out, I focused on Lumpy.
Minion: Lumpy.
Health 14/14. Level 2.
Sentient Cat.
Fighting Abilities: Highly proficient.
Memories intact.
Upgrade Available. Consume 30/58 mana and 37 Zorta (YES)
or (NO) Due to lack of mana upgrade cost is 65 Zorta.
I let go of his form, knowing I’d need to pull from our stash to
upgrade the jenix. I wanted to and still might, but I was curious to see how
much an upgrade would improve Jark.
Did he continue to grow?
I shifted my desire to my human minion.
Human Minion: Jark.
Health 11/11. Level 2
Sapient Human.
Memories intact.
Fighting Abilities: Weak.
Spell Abilities: Mediocre
Upgrade Available. Consume 30/61 mana and 8.75 Zorta (YES)
or (NO) Due to lack of mana upgrade cost is 38.75 Zorta.
I hadn’t leveled up healing, intelligence, wisdom, or necromancer
lately. I had a feeling once I was able to get near a library, the middle two
would increase greatly.
“Alright, going to pull out a hundred Zorta,” I said with a grimace.
“A hundred?” Bell asked with a grunt, clearly not loving the idea.
“Yeah, my lack of mana makes the costs exorbitant. If I had a
higher mana, Jark would only be almost nine,” I said.
“Lumpy said he can wait,” Bell said, and I chuckled.
She reached in and grabbed four orbs of ten each.
I concentrated on the orbs and ingested them one at a time.
“Alright, this could kill you,” I said.
Jark’s eyes shot wide, and he exclaimed, “What?”
“I’ve only leveled skeletons before. Just like turning you into a
human minion was a risk, so is this,” I said.
“Can we try a goblin?” he asked.
“Nope,” Bell said, tossing hands on her hips, “They would need a
resurrection, and the magic would alert the entire area of where we are. If
you’re scared, I understand.”
His vision shifted to fixate on me. Jark nodded tersely, not saying
anything.
I selected yes to his upgrade, not sure what would happen.
He had a seizure and fell face first, busting his nose.
“That’s gonna leave a mark,” Bell said.
The black magic wisped around us, swirling over and onto his
body. A second later, ghoulish hands crept up, tearing his flesh. His eyes
were open as they ripped him down to the bone.
I had to close my eyes as the horror unfolded. I just had to.
When the spell dissipated, I opened my eyes to see a bigger Jark,
standing in skeleton form. His gestures were filled with frustration, as if
blaming me for his predicament.
His anger grew, and he punched a tree.
“Jark, suppress memories,” I ordered, and he went rigid. “Go hunt
the area with Lumpy. For now, focus on small things and pile them for Bell.
Retreat from a big fight. I need you both alive for tonight.”
The duo sprinted into the underbrush, heading south.
“Well, shit,” Bell said. “I’m sorry I pushed for his upgrade. He’s
going to resent me for calling him scared.”
I nodded, biting back my retort. “Ouch. I feel like shit.”
“Sorry, not much we can do. They’ll be fine. Your girlfriend is
going to be pissed you killed her brother,” Bell said, biting her lip to contain
her laugh.
“Not helping, Bell. Our fight might have gotten easier though,” I
said.
“Speaking of which, this gear needs to be properly stowed. Give
me a hand before we run out of time?” Bell asked, and just like that, we
moved past the fact that ghouls had transformed Jark back to a skeleton.
“Are you ready for tonight?”
“Trying to psych myself up. Asha says the reward is worth the risk.
He said to trust him, and even left me in the dark on some things. I’m going
to trust him,” I said.
“I trust your judgement. We made it this far because of you, and
I’m sure tonight will be entertaining to say the least,” Bell said with a
mischievous twinkle in her eye.
CHAPTER 26
Ikara Valley
I shifted in Charlie’s saddle, not even slightly comfortable. An hour
ago, Bell and Tarla had helped me into an insane amount of gear.
My bottom layer consisted of cloth. Above that rested tight
leathers, and above that I had applied chainmail. Finally, there was the plate
armor. I also wore an open-faced helm with a nose protector.
An ache in my neck begged for me to take the helmet off. I
vertically hefted a finely crafted lance to alleviate the strain on my arm.
From my perch, I felt like an imposter knight.
“You ready?” Asha asked from below.
“Yeah, I think I am,” I said, my voice becoming more assertive.
“Off with you then,” Tarla said, a hint of sourness in her voice.
I knew she was conflicted. I had to unsuppress her brother for her
to experience my reasoning. A minute later, and he went back to being a
generic human skeleton because his mind couldn’t fathom being a minion
again.
That had led to her being rightfully bitter. I knew time would help
heal her attitude. I always tried to be supportive, and Jark freaking out was
because of his desire for more power.
Asha snuck out of the tree line with the two goblins, Lumpy, and
Jark with him. I slowly walked Charlie out of the woods, headed directly
for the bridge.
The crisp nighttime air whipped a decent wind. The sky overhead
was clear, and the moon blasted a bright evening light. The mile or so of
small vegetables swayed in the breeze. Besides the sound of the wind, and
our group moving, the peaceful evening remained quiet.
The goblins on watch snoozed with chins tucked to their chests. I
had watched them during the day before we went to sleep. These goblins
had conducted repairs, or dug irritation, pulling a day and now a night shift;
something I would have to consider avoiding because it was clearly a bad
decision.
Charlie huffed, each step done with anger. The warhorse knew we
were going into battle and wanted to charge. The poor guy had to carry me
and the two supply bags until we reached the bridge.
The poor skeleton donkey followed closely behind us. I felt bad for
him because he hauled our third bag, all the stolen gear, and two tents.
Bell walked to my left with a bow out and extra arrows showed
fletching from behind her shoulder. She wore her light leathers with a fine
sword on her hip. The woman walked cautiously in the night, her hazel eyes
constantly on the lookout.
Tarla carried a new staff confidently on my right. The red haired
woman scowled, a determined face of anger that broke when she saw me
smiling down at her. She wore mage robes, and I probably needed to get her
a new outfit because hers was literally starting to get holes.
I watched Asha dart across cabbage fields. The elva hopped
irrigation ditches smoothly, avoiding the first goblin that rested closest to
the bridge. He deftly unhooked the bell, his face awash in concern.
Asha exhaled when he set it onto the ground softly. He ran to the
next lookout who was snoring soundly to repeat the process.
The second bell went down silently, as did the third. The fourth
wrapped onto the back side of the village, and he ignored that goblin in his
plan.
My trot toward the bridge was slow and steady. Each second that
transpired, we could be discovered, and I grew anxious.
With the three bells down, the teams split into positions to strike.
Lumpy lunged into a sprint, flinging chunks of farm field behind
him in his mad dash. The feline leaped from a dozen feet out, jaws wide and
ready.
The snoring goblin never saw him coming.
The large teeth snapped onto the back of the goblins neck and the
duo went tumbling. All I heard was a soft thump. If I had to guess, the
goblin’s death was instant.
Lumpy proudly pranced toward me with a dead goblin hanging
from his jaws.
Asha crept up to his goblin, each step carefully placed. The goblin
snorted, sucking air through its nose. Asha lunged, running a sword through
the chest of a goblin.
The goblin’s eyes shot open in panic. Even from afar, I could see
the desire to live in its motions. Asha rammed a dagger into its neck,
ripping out the throat. The goblin clutched the sword jutting out of the front
of its chest. A moment later, the goblin guard lost its fingers and its life.
On the left side of the village, the three skeletons crept up on a
stirring goblin. They swarmed the creature, crashing him to the ground with
muffled cries. Skeletal arms rose and fell rapidly, diving daggers glinted off
the moonlight until they ran red with blood.
I reached the bridge, twisting my torso to push the packs off
Charlie. Bell and Tarla helped lower the packs - not that we were at our
staging point.
The three dead goblins were dragged to me. I could have raised the
corpses from the start of the bridge, but I figured if we were charged during
the vulnerable moment, a consolidated army would be best.
I waited patiently for the bodies to arrive, choosing to watch the
village.
Each of the dead arrived quickly, and I closed my eyes. Using my
cultivation skills, I focused on each of the colorful orbs, only to find
resistance. A first in a while.
I concentrated, willing my nerves down and focusing on
dominating the goblin’s power.
Claiming the goblin as a minion will result in you earning
Ostriva points. Do you wish to proceed? (YES) - (NO)
I quickly selected yes.
You selected to claim a goblin. Consume 0.599 Zorta to
summon this creature as a minion of the undead. Confirm (YES) (NO)
I rationalized that the higher valuation was due to these having
military training. The system where a trained foe was worth more felt right.
When I selected yes, I waited for all hell to break loose. Instead, the
spell consumed the flesh of my latest minion without a peep from the
village.
I proceeded to repeat the process on the other two goblins and
learned these were even more expensive. Bell quickly handed out new
weapons to my three latest minions. Everything was going according to
plan so far.
We formed a small huddle, and I said, “Decent win. We can clearly
move on.
“This could mean the difference between being shunned and
feared,” Asha said with determination. “The plan will work. I know it's
going to require a lot of trust, but I know it will work. There’s thousands of
these little villages in this valley alone. They reproduce, grow past the size
of the village, and a son or a second in command branches out. It is the
strivian way.”
“Alright, then. I guess I will attempt the role as a unit commander.
Skeletons form a wall,” I ordered quietly, and the five goblins formed a line
with Jark in the middle. “Ranged, ready your bows. Forward march.”
We quietly walked down a cobbled road of river stones. The street
was firm, mud sealing the stones somewhat evenly. As the village grew in
size, my stomach twisted with anticipation.
I don’t think this is fear… maybe excitement.
The street led us through an opening in the caltrops. When we
entered the village, we did so without notice.
Bark! Yip! Bark!
And there went our stealth. Even the puppies were yipping. A trio
of cerberus zoomed out of a stable, eager for our blood.
Their snarled teeth flared with fangs ready.
An arrow whistled out, driving into the chest of a three headed
hound. Asha broke ranks, lopping a head off each cerberus in rapid fashion.
I focused on my center, meditating to claim the dead. The cerberus
were stubborn shits and fought my pull. A few seconds passed, and I gave
up on those three.
The full pack streamed out, no thoughts of waiting for backup. I
charged Charlie, lowering my lance. A fireball seared across my vision,
scorching two cerberus to ash.
I lowered my lance, skewering a head.
The top of the skull cracked under the weapons might, breaking my
weapon free. The warhorse spun, kicking a cerberus hard enough to send it
flying.
I readied to ride hard into the goblins, struggling to believe what I
saw.
Goblins tried to exit their shanty and found Lumpy threatening to
charge. As one, they hesitated, none willing to cast or enter the fray first.
Asha told me they’d not fight unless there was someone to rally
them, and that was my biggest concern. Apparently, strivians fought for
dominance often, and the goblins, if left alone, would wait to support the
winner.
The cerberus, on the other hand, snarled with hatred. The baying of
the hounds woke the trolls, and we reached the main building before the
enemy could form a defense.
A final cerberus leaped from a rooftop and into our front line. The
animal died by a dozen sword thrusts, but its effort succeeded. The trolls
arrived with our formation broken. They skidded to a halt when a
commanding voice boomed.
“Who dares challenge Arcini the Great?”
The booming voice of the chieftain troll roared out across the
village.
I fixated on the massively fat troll in confusion.
Ah, right, this was my cue and why I wore all this damn armor.
“Charge the leader!” Asha called out.
I saw the obese troll exiting his home a hundred feet down the road.
He carried a staff that radiated red magic. A whole lot of power coursed
through his body.
I adjusted my lance and Charlie did the rest. The horse burst into a
run, and the others parted to escape our wrath.
Two massive fireball spells crashed into my shield, threatening to
tear me out of the saddle. A blue shield erupted in front of Charlie and me,
absorbing the impact. The armor I wore was enchanted with anti-magic
shielding. It was the ace I sorely needed.
The warhorse bulldozed two trolls, pushing them out of our path
while barreling down on the leader.
The massive troll panicked, stopping the spell it chanted, and threw
a female in the way of Charlie. The warhorse leaped high, soaring over the
damsel.
“Dammit, Charlie!” I screamed in shock.
My left hand clung to the saddle for dear life. I slammed my knees
together, trying to stay on. Our jump forced me to adjust my aim with the
lance.
The enemy leader’s eyes widened, seemingly understanding he was
doomed.
The tip of the lance drove through flesh, sinking deep his chest.
I grunted, intense pain erupting in my shoulder. A fraction of a
section later, the jarring force ripped me free of Charlie’s saddle. Something
had to give. The lance yanked itself out of my grasp.
I would have guessed the sixty pounds of armor would help my
fall, but it didn’t in the slightest.
Crash!
The wind in my lungs jetted out, and I flared in panic. A rib likely
was broken, I was on my back, and at any moment I could die to any of the
trolls around me.
I used my free hand and said, “Heal self.”
The spell didn’t even fire up. Nothing was broken, and I simply
experienced pain. I peeled myself off the road, shocked none of my minions
had died.
When I stood, I did so unmolested. I glanced around in confusion.
The scene was one of shock. No one raised their weapons.
Everyone simply stared at the dead chief with a long lance resting vertically
out of its body. The female we jumped over eyed me, her facial expression
filled with relief. She nodded in respect and stepped back.
A large troll rested over the fallen chief, eyeing me with a fury. He
jerked the weapon out of the body, creating a sucking sound that broke the
silence. The new challenger tossed the weapon at my feet.
“I challenge you for the right to the Zeemi Tribe,” the troll said in
perfect strivian.
His harsh voice had to be adding slang that the gods filtered for me.
Even if they didn’t, the message was clear. I had to fight again. I spun my
head, checking over my shoulders.
Everyone else stopped fighting. The other trolls stood stoic, their
eyes flicking between me and the second in command.
Instead of squaring off, I stuck my hands to my knees as if waiting
to recover.
“Give me a moment. Is that allowed?” I asked.
“Ten, nine, eight,” the challenger counted.
I didn’t waste any time. “Death is power, power is everything.
Death is power, power is everything. Death is power, power is everything.”
My chanting hit a crescendo.
The enemy reacted by snatching a javelin out of a quiver on his
back.
“Shit,” I muttered, maintaining focus.
My center reached out, finding the defeated chieftain. His orb
didn’t fight back, likely because I had killed him.
I missed the troll throwing his weapon as I concentrated. The
javelin slammed into my guts, lifting me up and off my feet. I crashed down
hard, sliding across the road with my metal armor scraping loudly.
The interface for the chieftain stayed, even when my vision waned
due to the pain. In the distance, I heard my challenger celebrating. I selected
claim instead of consume.
Claiming the Arcini Trollkin as a minion will result in you
earning Ostriva points. Do you wish to proceed? (YES) - (NO)
The sound of large feet approaching grew louder, and I instantly
selected yes.
You selected to claim Arcini Trollkin. Consume 19.411 Zorta to
summon this creature as a minion of the undead. Confirm (YES) (NO)
I hastily applied a yes and did something crazy. I ripped a javelin
out of my guts with a cry of torment. The weapon clattered against the road
as my spell darkened the bright moonlight.
A hand went over my stomach, and I said, “Heal self.”
A wave of green magic erupted off my fingers, and my foe paused,
seeing two types of magic at once. His eyes bulged, and he screamed in
horror when he saw the ghouls collecting the chieftain’s flesh.
Maybe they revered their dead or performed some sort of ritual I
had violated. I didn’t care. Winning mattered.
I spat out a mouthful of blood, scrambling to my feet. When my
opponent realized I was back in the fight, he backpedaled. My undead
minions circled in on him unopposed.
“What’s your magic?” I asked in perfect Ostrivian.
Those who watched the duel gasped, not expecting a human to be
native.
“What have you done to my father?” the tall troll asked.
The magical spell darkened before it completed, and the chieftain’s
large frame lumbered to my side.
“I have given him true power without the confines of his flesh. He
will serve me as I conquer all who stand before me,” I said defiantly.
Part of this plan was to be a cocky asshole. The whole strivian
society was predicated on the powerful ruling. Asha had said to be
confident, even if I was uncertain. To be boisterous, even if I was simply
wanting a nice castle to relax in.
I ripped my sword free when he reached for another javelin. I saw
his magic this time. His frame increased in size, empowering his throw.
With limited options, I threw my sword first. My weapon rotated,
the throw horrible. A gash went across his shin, barely enough to alter his
throw. The javelin soared out, what would likely be a clean kill resulted in
the weapon simply sinking into my shoulder.
I spun, screaming. The spear ruined my right arm and almost tore it
off my body. I applied a hand to my shoulder and said, “Heal self.”
Magical green tendrils knitted my body together. I felt my stomach
growing queasy and knew I had to stop.
Consume .12 Zorta to recover 28 mana (YES) - (NO)
I hastily recovered my mana, not sure why I hadn’t died yet. I
continued to heal my arm. When the joint was back to normal, I saw why I
had been allowed to heal.
Our duel allowed minions, apparently. The skeletal father bear
hugged his son.
“I didn’t even have to suppress his memories. Asha, how does this
work?” I confidently strode toward my trapped foe. “Allow mercy or no?” I
asked in Nordanese.
I walked over to my sword that rested on the street, all eyes focused
on me and the fact my opponent struggled in the grip of my minion.
Was it fair? I guess it is. The boney creation is my magical creation
after all.
“I’ll skin you alive myself, and -”
I had to tune out the threats regarding his penis and my butthole.
Needless to say, he left me little choice. Using my practiced thrusts, I drove
my blade into a rib. The tip deflected, piercing a lung but not his heart.
I withdrew the blade, the helpless troll gurgling as blood filled his
ruined lung. I jabbed again and again. Finally, on the fourth thrust, he died,
and I grinned.
When the body hit the street, I glanced around, not seeing another
challenger step forward.
I closed my eyes, standing over my slain foe. I reached out and
found the orb far more stubborn than the father’s. After a first failure, I
concentrated with the incantation.
“Death is power, power is everything. Death is power, power is
everything. Death is power, power is everything,” I belted out the last line
and forced my will onto the son’s orb.
Between the chant and a fading resistance, I beat back the son’s
deflections, winning control over his colorful orb.
Claim or Consume.
I felt a tap on my shoulder as I pondered which to choose.
I turned to see Asha carrying Tarla, a javelin stuck in her chest,
piercing her heart. Her head lulled back, and her eyes were stuck open in
surprise.
“What! Again?” I asked.
“The spear that went through your arm deflected into her chest. I
honestly think the gods are sending a message at this point,” Asha said.
I scoffed. “The gods be damned. I only answer to Caitlyn. I thought
you didn’t believe in them.” He shrugged, offering me Tarla’s body.
“Place her there,” I said, pointing to a spot in the road.
I raised my voice, swapping to Ostrivian. “I’m your new leader.
Call me Boss Damien, Necromancer of Ikara Valley. You are to pack
everything you own to start a new home. We leave this village at dawn.”
The surviving trolls hesitated, and the old chieftain growled
menacingly. That sent them scurrying, and I snickered.
Asha brought over a half dozen cerberus corpses that were intact.
Three were ruined and placed in a separate pile.
“I advise you to raise what you can,” Asha said.
I focused on the current interface I had open with the troll's son and
selected claim.
Claiming the troll as a minion will result in you earning Ostriva
points. Do you wish to proceed? (YES) - (NO)
The sound of large feet approaching grew louder, and I selected
yes.
You selected to claim a troll. Consume 12.374 Zorta to summon
this creature as a minion of the undead. Confirm (YES) - (NO)
With a simple thought, the magic of the undead swirled around the
fallen troll. I watched the ghoulish hands strip the flesh, grinning when my
latest minion eventually stood among my soldiers.
“Go help the others prepare to leave. Oh, and any hidden treasure
you had? Place it here,” I said, pointing to the spot his transformation had
occurred.
I glanced down at my girlfriend who was dead again. I let out a
frustrated breath.
“Everyone back up,” I said, noticing it was only Asha and Lumpy
watching over me. “Where’s everyone?”
“There are two small wagons, yeah, and even a pair of horses
stabled in the chieftain’s village. We scored a nice prize,” Asha said with a
wicked smirk. “Thank you for trusting me.”
“Kinda surprised they just accepted a new leader,” I said.
“The mighty rule. This is the way,” Asha said, and I snickered at
the irony.
“I’m not mighty,” I countered.
“You’re about to bring back a woman from the dead, and you just
killed two of their leaders, adding them to your undead army. Even I
consider that mighty. The best part is that you’re just beginning. When we
reach civilization, I expect to start a long journal that will survive me, and I
bet others will find the words enlightening,” Asha said.
I nodded, understanding his point. “Will the cyclops see a revival?”
“Maybe, but do you really have a choice? The next day will take us
on a road not too far from them. Best to do it now,” Asha advised.
When I hovered over her orb, it eagerly clung to my aura.
Resurrect Tarla Starski (YES) or (NO) - Selecting (NO) will
incur Ostriva points.
I channeled the spell after accepting the prompt. The heaven’s split,
night became day, and a golden torrent of power burst into Tarla.
BOOM!
The explosion ripped through the small village, starling most. Tarla
sat up with a gasp. She immediately flung herself off the street, barreling
for me with open arms.
“I’m so sorry I was a bitch earlier,” she said, slamming herself into
my embrace.
I shushed her and said, “You were upset about your brother, Tarla.
It’s okay, and you weren’t a bitch in the slightest. You’re okay. I’ll try to be
more careful when dueling the bad guys.”
My light joke missed the mark, and she began to cry. While I held
her, I consumed the Zorta from the three dead cerberus mangled beyond
claiming. Charlie smushed one and fire consumed two to ash.
Each of them was worth three plus Zorta.
The troll chieftain brought out two small sacks, tossing them onto
the street. The son dragged out a forest creature that was a mix of lamb and
deer. Small nubs clashed with the fluffy wool exterior. The being was no
bigger than Lumpy, and I didn’t understand why it was considered treasure.
Tarla managed to stop sniffling, growing curious as well.
“What’s that?” I asked Asha.
“Not sure,” he said with a shrug.
“Hey, you,” I said to a troll carrying cerberus puppies for one of the
wagons everyone was loading. “What’s this thing and why is it valuable?”
“The milk helps fertility in both sexes,” the troll said, confused I
didn’t know this.
“Can the goblins take it?” I asked.
“Yes, it works even on the hounds. Chieftain Arcini saved it for
himself, though. The blessbas are a rare treasure and a prize his son found
while hunting,” the troll said. “Is the Boss needing anything else?”
“Carry on,” I said, and he left. “What’s in the sacks?”
Asha went to the first one, spilling gold nuggets, silver coins, and a
few gems onto the street. I had no idea of the value, but it would help when
the time came to purchase items again. The next was a bag of Zorta. I
reached out, touching a random orb.
I selected consume, and the number that came up was 3.121.
“The first one I tested was a dead cerberus if I were to guess. I’ll
consume them all so I can raise these hounds into undead,” I said then
frowned. “Any objection?”
“Not from me, my handsome hero,” Tarla said, yanking me down
for a lusty kiss.
While I was thrilled she had come out of her funk, this hero had
work to do. I left her lips wanting more and began ingesting the entire
wealth the boss man had.
Eighty three Zorta later, I shifted to raising the dead. I added six
more cerberus to the ranks. I received an upgrade notification and
immediately went into my necromancer stats.
Necromancer Level 3 -} Necromancer Level 4 = 1,000 Zorta.
(YES) or (NO)
Name: Damien Moonguard
Race: Human
Affiliation: Ostriva
Zorta: 1.922
Nordan Score: 6,000
Ostriva Score: 247,500
Necromancer Minions: 14/15
Fighting Level: Weak
Tarla picked up on my mood when I frowned with a deflated sigh.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes! I’m no longer a pathetic fighter. Also, fifteen minions will be
my limit for a while. I can upgrade to four now, but it’s a thousand Zorta.
Even with an army of minions killing off the wildlife of the valley, it's
going to take some time,” I said.
Bell strode over, riding Charlie with a smile.
“Congratulations, Damien. I heard that comment about Caitlyn.
You’ve changed from a bumbling idiot into a bumbling magus. I have to
admit that I thought Caitlyn chose poorly, but then this happens. What is the
plan with your new village of misfits?” she asked.
“We take them with us. If I were to guess, the dwarves are already
breeding goblins. The cerberus puppies will be fine guard dogs when they
grow, and if one of the goblins is an animal healer, we can start resurrecting
our animals,” I said.
“I’ll go find out,” Asha said, leaving us.
“I see you died again,” Bell said, glanced down her nose at Tarla.
“And Damien immediately brought me back to his side,” Tarla
sassed.
I pinched the bridge of my nose and said, “Ladies, we need to get
this new army of ours moving. Lumpy, lead the cerberus on a hunt. I don’t
want you dragging back a cyclops but feel free to go for bigger prey.”
The six hounds and the jenix cat bolted off, heading for the bridge.
I left both ladies who glared daggers at each other. I wasn’t sure why they
were at odds this time, but I didn’t let it bother me.
Each step was a chore in the heavy armor, and for now, I felt it
prudent to wear the protection. I still didn’t even understand the rules to
challenges yet, and although the gear didn’t save me from a super
empowered throw, it would stop a goblin dagger or three.
The first wagon was loaded with supplies. Above the blankets,
cooking supplies, food, and other items, the littlest children attempted to
find sleep. Even though I had come to terms with everything, understanding
they were a potential obstacle to winning this fight, I was glad they had
survived.
I watched a small girl troll wave, much like a little girl would in
passing. Their faces were very elva-like but green. Honestly, if they were
just a tad less lanky, I could see the resemblance. We slayed a few dogs,
killed some leaders, and mostly kept the village populace intact.
Now, I just had to get us to a new home. If only it were easy.
CHAPTER 27
Ikara Valley
We left the village before the first rays of sun crested the horizon.
The situation altered slightly as our small force moved north along a trail
that barely classified as a road.
Our first issue was that little goblin legs failed to keep up. They
also happened to be carrying all their supplies themselves. With some stern
orders, I had them load their gear onto the carriages.
After lunch, we shifted a lot of weight onto the father and son troll
skeletons, freeing up additional space. Even Jark and the skeleton goblins
hauled gear so we could keep a rapid march.
I ordered us to skip lunch, Asha advising that we were too near the
cyclops. Hours later, the sun finally hit the horizon, and I observed our
group proudly. We moved quickly, didn’t get killed by the cyclops, and
entered a forest of trees so tall I had no clue what rested in their canopy.
Jark found a small clearing for us to camp in, and the wagons
moved to set up a communal gap for sleeping. Bell went about filling
buckets with fresh water, Tarla managed the fire, and I set up the canvas to
stretch between the wagons.
A goblin came up to me hesitantly, three others behind her
encouraging her on. Again, my perceived notion of a gnarled, puss-filled,
hideous creature was wrong. The goblins stood at half the size of human
with smooth skin, high cheekbones, and sharp features.
They weren’t pretty, and they were malnourished, probably
reducing their appearance, but without a doubt, they weren’t hideous.
Everything about Ostriva mythical beings pointed to species wanting to
persist and not constantly slaughter.
I wonder what she wants so badly that the others are pushing her
forward.
“I’m not going to punish you for speaking. What is it?” I asked.
“What are our orders, Boss Damien?” she asked, finding her
courage.
“Hey Bell, we have a bunch of small animals to skin, right?” I
asked.
Bell nodded and said, “Donkey has become the bloody carrier.
Literally, a leaking ass.”
She burst into laughter, and I shook my head with a snicker. The
woman was thrilled by our latest additions. I think she believed in me more
than I did. I was worried about how we would manage all these strivians
and still interact with humanity.
“What’s your name?” I asked the goblin, deciding I was going to
humanize them.
“Larineebee,” she said.
“May I call you Nee?” I asked, and she nodded. “Nee, are you the
leader of the goblins?”
“We are not allowed a leader,” she said.
Asha came by, helping me secure the temporary roof. “You can
have a -” he paused trying to find the right words. “A head goblin servant.
Pick Nee. She is the strongest of the goblins.”
“Nee, I want the dead animals cleaned and cooked, the fire
improved, camp set for the night but ready for a quick breakdown, and a
potty pit dug not far away with some form of protection,” I ordered.
The main hoard of goblins quickly spread out to conduct my orders,
but Nee remained.
“Yes?” I asked with a raised brow.
This amused Asha for some odd reason.
“Can you make my husband like Asha?” she asked, and I frowned.
“Asha is a mostly free elva and can make his own decisions. If he
chooses to court you, then that is on him,” I said.
Nee shook her head, pointing to a skeleton goblin. “He was the
animal healer too, if that helps.”
“Asha mentioned as much. Tomorrow, yes.” I muttered this line to
myself before turning to my girlfriend. “Tarla, Jark is getting pushed back a
day,” I said and the fiery redhead tossed a few sticks onto the fire.
She beamed a smile with a wave. “Yeah, tomorrow morning it is.”
“I want to do formation drills this evening and in the morning,”
Asha said.
“Okay, let everyone eat first. Then start with the basics. Where’s
Jark?” I asked Tarla, finishing the canvas.
“Hunting with the others. Help me erect our tent,” Tarla said in a
sultry tone.
I chuckled, mainly because it was a single person job.
Asha commented, “You need to come out of that armor and have
the blood washed out of it.”
I nodded, entering the tent that Tarla quickly set up. Over the next
ten minutes, we struggled to remove my armor. Eventually, Bell came in to
help. Her aid made the task possible. Once I was out of my armor, Bell and
Tarla shared glares at each other with Bell leaving in a huff.
“What is that about?” I asked.
“Lay down. I need to clean the blood off you,” Tarla said, ignoring
my question.
Laying down, she heated the bathing water, humming a tune.
Exhaustion set in. I hadn’t slept in over a day, and her humming soothed my
soul.
I likely missed a few cues as to what was happening. I drifted in
and out of sleep when Tarla rolled me over for a back massage. Being the
boss certainly had its perks.
I heard Asha droning on outside the tent, forcing our units into a
semblance of cohesion. When Tarla rotated me over again, her nude form
surprised me.
I went to object, but the woman was a disciple of Caitlyn now. Her
fiery kisses lured me into her seductive trap, and a part of me was tired of
not indulging in what we both desired.
Those brown eyes sparkled with lust, and I gave in. A blissful
entwining ended with us falling asleep in each other's arms.
∞∞∞
I left the tent the next morning in my mage’s robes to a shocking
sight. A centaur laid bundled by the fire that the goblins cooked at. Each of
the little green beings ate greedily. The bones of a hundred small critters lay
in a tall pile.
Numerous goblins passed gas as they slept in random spots, each
with a bloated belly.
Ah, we erred in letting them gorge themselves. Guess we have to
wait to push on. This really humanizes them. They’re so skinny, I can’t help
but not be angry.
Asha exited his tent, yawning himself awake. The pretty female
troll, the one Charlie and I had jumped over, left his tent behind him, and I
grinned at his smirk.
I walked up to the centaur, seeing his body littered with marks.
Lumpy tore chunks out of his torso, creating rents through leather armor.
Yeah, without a doubt, the claw marks were from Lumpy. The large cat was
a terror up close, and the image told its own story - one of a centaur getting
caught unaware by a perched cat.
I glanced at the legs, seeing them covered in cerberus bites. The
blood covered legs exposed more than a few sections of bare bone.
“He has been trailing us for some time. The herd is mustering on
the warpath but lost our scent near the minotaur city,” Asha said with a
sigh. “If we let him go, they’ll know to come north. If we don’t, they may
not know. There’s also this.”
Asha walked me over to the outside of the camp. In the bushes
rested a dead tiger, causing me to grin with glee.
If Lumpy could bring home ten to twenty Z a day, what would a
wondrous tiger do in skeletal form? I may have bounced my brows joyfully
out of sheer excitement.
“This morning is amazing,” I proclaimed with open arms.
“Yes, well, you control an army now, not a few minions. You need
to heal four cerberus, two goblins, and Lumpy. Then you need to choose to
kill or spare your prisoner. This tiger, though, she is worth two Lumpy’s,”
Asha said.
I grunted out a scoff. “I guess being the boss means making the
decisions. Can we get any intel from the centaur?”
“Maybe. He won’t admit it, but the scouts are scared to keep
extending away from their home. We pushed ourselves hard those first few
days, and they were late to assemble,” Asha said.
I pulled the fancy sword out of the sheath that dangled from my
waist. I walked over to the centaur whose eyes flared wide in panic. He
shook his head no, pleading for his life in the only way he could.
“You were sent to spy on me and then to kill me if I was found,
correct?” I asked, and he shook his head.
I reached down and ungagged him.
“Great, then tell me what you need to say,” I said. “If you answer
the way I like, I’ll heal you. If you don’t, you become a minion. Either way,
you’ll serve me.”
He spat at my charming smile and missed horribly.
Gotta love the fighters. I don’t blame him, I’d do the same if I was
doomed.
“Perqueta is on a pilgrimage, heading to plead to the great
chieftain. You’ve proven to have two magics,” the centaur said with a sneer.
“I do not,” I lied, testing him.
“We saw you raise the dead and then later, one of our scouts saw
your resurrection spell,” he said defiantly.
“Could have been anyone,” I countered.
He chuckled and said, “Will it matter? Even the mere chance that
you’re a champion of the gods will allow Alpha Chieftain Torbard to rally
the plains. The great herds will stop at nothing until your head rests on a
pike, your body cooking over a fire, and your Zorta ensuring we can buy a
million mares for our herds.”
“I don’t assume I could bribe you to convince the Chieftain Tordard
to look in the wrong direction?” I asked, not expecting much.
“Torbard. The Alpha Chieftain Torbard and he commands the great
tribes that number in the millions. I could be willing to avert the invasion to
find you, for a cost. Give me a million mares of breeding age, and I’ll -”
I groaned, rolling my eyes.
“I have two mares. Will that work?” I asked.
“What? No, I’d be laughed at and tortured. Give me a million
mares, or I’ll kill you the second you unbind me,” the centaur threatened.
I drove the sword tip into his throat, cutting off his words. No one
batted an eyelash at the execution, and I quickly left the centaur to die in
peace.
Well this sucks. I now have a big villainous bad guy determined to
cook my body and consume my power. Shit.
“Minions of mine, come forth if you’re injured,” I said, shifting to
the next issue.
I waited patiently for my minions to assemble. Most were nearby
and six stood before me in a matter of moments. One of the goblins from
Xastriban arrived missing an arm.
Perfect. I had been meaning to test this.
I walked over to the goblin and placed a hand on his forehead. I
connected to his aura, summoning his data page.
Minion: Goblin Trigger.
Health 2/5. Level 1.
Sapient Goblin.
Fighting Abilities: Pathetic.
Memories intact.
Upgrade Available. Consume 4 mana and .7 Zorta (YES) or
(NO)
Repair missing arm: 2 mana of 30 available.
Remove Minion: Consume .2931 Zorta
You have selected to remove Minion. Confirm (YES) - (NO)
When I selected yes, I expected a darkening spell to blot out the
rays of sunshine crashing through the trees. Instead, the bones crumbled to
dust, and I was refunded the Z from the minion’s creation directly into my
reserves.
“Whoa,” I said in dismay at the process and the return of the Zorta.
“I was returned his cost. I’ve been grumbling because I’m heavily invested
in minions.”
Bell came to stand over the pile of dust. “Interesting. Good to know
in a pinch. Sorry, Asha,” Bell said, and he shrugged. Yeah, I wasn’t going to
turn him to dust anyway. “Your minions were hard at work last night. I got
another sixty Z in our emergency bag. The cat is worth thirty Zorta. Yeah,
shocked they killed it, but the big troll skeletons helped.”
“Wow, we’re growing powerful,” I said, partially in disbelief.
I checked my personal reserves, seeing I was down to 40.771. I
cycled through my upgrades.
Upgrade Healer 4 -} Healer 5 cost 10 Zorta (YES) - (NO)
Selecting yes immediately shrunk my Zorta reserves. However, I
had 35 mana now.
Score.
Bell said, “You may feel on top of the world, but a cyclops will still
murder us, the herd would decimate our forces if we were caught with
catatonic goblins from overeating, and heaven forbid we run into a human
war party. Hell, even a trio of ogres would rip through this force. To make
matters worse, we probably need to stick to the valley now that you’ve
chosen the Ostriva side.”
I folded my arms and replied, “Yeah, well, I can’t go around
raising humans. They’re just not here. Building an army of white haired
human loyalists would have required luring folks to their doom. I see your
point, though. We need to adjust our plan. What’s wrong with occupying an
old dwarven hold or an abandoned human settlement?”
“We’ll be raided by both sides,” Bell said with a scoff.
“Solution?” I asked. Her face soured and her arms folded under her
breasts. “Bell, you’re an advisor. I value your input.”
This placated her slightly, and she sighed in frustration at the
situation, not me. At least I read her emotions that way. “We build a neutral
city and dedicate it to a neutral goddess, Caitlyn. Then we hold onto our
butts because we have a whole lot of easy to kill Zorta laying around.
Speaking of which, Nee said two more goblins joined us.”
I glanced around, not a damn clue who was an original versus a
new goblin. “Nee, monitor the situation. Keep going on how we survive.”
She nodded and added, “I’d like to think you could maybe fit into a
neutral city if one is already established, but I simply don’t know. I do know
that I went from concerned to proud. Even if we have a long way to go, I
think we’re making great progress,” Bell said.
She reached out with her aura, locking onto the centaur and said,
“Six Z for him. You got enough to do both?”
“Umm… ten Z should be safe, and I need to heal all these
minions,” I said.
I decided to try something new. Closing my eyes, I reached out to
my minions as if I wanted to command them. I felt their receptive replies,
welcoming my authority.
Lumpy: Repair missing claw: 2 mana of 35 available.
Goblin 4: Repair broken hand: 1 mana of 35 available.
Cerberus 1: Repair missing teeth: 1 mana of 35 available.
Cerberus 3: Repair missing foot: 3 mana of 35 available.
Cerberus 4: Repair fractured ribs: 1 mana of 35 available.
Cerberus 6: Repair missing leg: 4 mana of 35 available.
This felt… clunky, I went through the menu until I found what I
wanted.
Heal all minions for 12 mana of 35 available. (YES) - (NO)
Excellent. Going through a step-by-step process was tedious. I’m
glad I found a streamlined way.
Wind whipped my face, and I poured more mana into the spell. The
magic warped the early morning light, returning parts and pieces to the
injured minions. The black fixated on the broken spots, healing them
individually. When the spell completed, I smiled at the simplicity.
“That’s new,” Asha said.
“I think it was an option since necromancer three, but each day I
learn something different simply by taking the time to study. Which of the
goblins is Nee’s husband?” I asked.
A goblin stepped forward, raising a hand. I attached to his aura and
went through the steps of reviving him.
Did I have not? No, but I wanted to.
The magic beam from above slammed down. This time, the golden
power enveloped but didn’t explode. My squinted eyes and tensed reflexes
relaxed.
“Those bastards in Tarb had to know a level five would be fine,” I
said with scoff.
“Huh?” Tarla asked, joining us. “You look dashing, Damien.”
“Thanks, Tarla. You’re radiant. Back in Tarb, I tried to earn Z when
I first arrived. The healer’s guild had a big list of requirements, one of them
being I couldn’t revive while the spell still exploded. Anyway, they set the
limit high to likely restrict who could profit,” I said.
“Surprised you raised the goblin over your lover’s brother,” Bell
said, prodding Tarla.
“Tomorrow,” Tarla said with a pleasant smile. “He is fine as he is
for now. We have a puppy with a broken leg and… this goblin can heal it.
Speaking of which, go heal the animals.”
The goblin shifted its glance at me for approval. I nodded my head,
and he ran to do as commanded.
“Are you two going to be okay around each other?” I asked.
“We both trust you,” Bell said. “I was merely hoping Tarla would
avoid another death, but that failed to happen. Now she is beyond
enthralled, and I don’t approve. She has hero worship.”
“I don’t worship Damien. He is kind, understanding, thoughtful,
and a gentleman. And yes, he has saved me from death three times. So, you
probably have a point that I will absolutely defend him with my life,” Tarla
snapped back.
“Uh… Ladies, we’re going up against all sorts of threats on all
sides. How about this? Bell, you’re my spiritual advisor and part of my
council. Tarla, you’re my girlfriend and bodyguard. Asha is my military
advisory. There, you’re all included, and we can move forward as a team.
The last thing we need is infighting,” I said and meant it.
The ladies accepted this but still squinted their eyes at each other.
When they tersely exchanged a nod, I could feel the tension easing.
Bell left to dig into a purse. A moment later, she held twenty orbs
cusped in her palms for me. I ingested the small offerings, seeing Nee
waiting for my attention.
I growled at her and pointed to the passed out goblins randomly
scattered around the encampment. She gulped with a wince, her own belly
swollen with food.
“Nee, if this ever happens again, I’ll thin the goblins until only the
wise remain. I understand you were starved until now, but overeating will
not happen again,” I said with a commanding tone.
“As Boss Damien commands,” Nee said with a bow. “Thank you
for restoring Garr.”
“He serves a role in our army. See that you continue to do so as
well,” I said, my warning more than clear. “Asha, since the goblins are
useless, find us something to hunt.”
The elva darted off, cerberus and Lumpy hot on his heels. I walked
over to the dead centaur.
I sat beside the corpse and crossed my legs. Entering a meditative
state, I reached out to his colorful orb. He readily accepted me as his victor,
submitting to my cultivation with ease.
Claim or Consume.
Claiming Treev Lanclin as a minion will result in you earning
Ostriva points. Do you wish to proceed? (YES) - (NO)
You selected to claim Treev Lanclin. Consume 7.329 Zorta to
summon this creature as a minion of the undead. Confirm (YES) (NO)
I paid the fee and watched the ghouls reap his flesh. The bindings
rested neatly on the ground, untouched by the magic that ripped him into
nothing more than a skeleton.
When he stood, I accepted him into my army.
Ready for my next challenge, I turned to the tiger, projecting my
aura onto her orb. I was not only rejected, I felt pain from even attempting.
I grunted, shaking my head from the sudden change. I knew this
tiger would require more effort. My largest claim up to that point was the
chieftain, but I had killed him personally. Apparently, a tiger surprised by
my minions was an ornery bitch. I grew up with a cat and knew they could
be stubborn assholes.
Over the next twenty minutes, I chanted, projected, and struggled
with the tiger’s spirit. Eventually, I broke the resistance down enough that I
was offered to consume the Z but not claim it.
I wanted the minion far more than I wanted the thirty Z. Time
melded as I concentrated, unwilling to accept my defeat.
When I still failed hours later, I decided to take a break. The sun
had reached its zenith, and I was hungry.
I pulled up my stats, seeing if I could raise my cultivation. Indeed, I
could, and I shifted resources to take cultivation from nine to eleven.
However, I had to get more Z to replace the upgrade costs.
After a nice lunch, the goblins stirred, eating a broth soup as they
recovered and ran for the woods often. I expected Asha back by this point,
and since none had died, I let them keep scouting.
I chanted fiercely, demanding the tiger’s obedience and failing to
win even with more points in my cultivation. Eventually, Asha shook my
shoulder, stirring me from my efforts. The sun was setting, and I gasped at
the lost time.
“What is it?” I asked in concern.
“There’s nothing nearby worth trying to fight. The camp is ready to
go after a full day of resting. I suggest you accept defeat and consume the
tiger before it is lost to time,” Asha said.
I sighed. Raising my cultivation from eleven to thirteen, I still
failed on a final attempt. Not everything always went my way, and I
accepted my failure for what it was, a valiant effort.
We left our camping spot that night, moving further north in hopes
of a new beginning.
CHAPTER 28
Targo Foothills
“We made it,” I said proudly, crossing the line on the hill. The rich
thick forest shifted to thin small pines. The Nordan side held bland
coloration with extra space between the trees, minimal bushes, and yet it
was still a forest.
For seven days, we had used a road that wound its way north
towards Nara, the human city that was still over a month away.
We marched at night, and each morning we stopped to rest for the
day, sparing ourselves the summer heat. Each evening, we awoke and
drilled as a unit. By no means were we a proficient fighting force, but our
odd group certainly had bonded.
The goblins put on some much needed weight and muscle. The
females all sprouted swollen bellies too with only a three week pregnancy.
The changes in our small allies were expected since our team of
skeletal hunters worked night and day to provide an excess of food. Every
meal had plenty to go around, and I had to wonder how the other goblins
knew because the most surprising part of the trip was when we added
additional goblins to the ranks.
Apparently, goblins loved to escape. Or maybe they bred in small
numbers and waited in the forest for an opportunity to flock to power.
When I asked, the goblins said it was their way to not discuss past masters.
We went from nearly fifty to almost a hundred goblins. In a sense, I
became a goblin warlord with Lumpy and the hounds finding strays while
others wandered in on their own.
I grew concerned this might degrade how the trolls viewed me. But
it was the opposite. They eagerly obeyed my commands without question.
Without a doubt, I realized I was a strivian warlord who would struggle to
bring humans onto my side.
While my future in Nara appeared bleak, there was cause for joy.
Tarla and Bell found peace in their relationship. Jark returned to being a
human and was beyond grateful. He even left Bell alone and courted a
female troll.
In hindsight, his magical improvements from level three were
minor, and he vowed to never ask for an upgrade again.
A few times during the last seven days, I had to remind myself I
was walking the equivalent of Los Angeles to Las Vegas. Caitlyn said there
was fifty percent more continent on Nordan than Earth, giving cause for me
to continuously ponder the vastness of the land. It also led credibility to the
fact that we had avoided a major fight recently.
The morning sunrise allowed for us to keep pushing north,
following the same boring road.
Birds chirped, gritty terrain crunched, and the monotonous creak of
wagons filled the air. The fresh pines carried the scent of pollen while a
gentle breeze cooled my skin.
I walked by Bell and Tarla, noting both ladies brighten at the sight
of leaving the valley.
“The snake eggs hatched,” Tarla said proudly. They had been her
little side project. Every night she opened their containers and rotated their
eggs.
“Oh, and what happened to them?” I asked.
“They’re in a basket, being fed little chunks of meat. There’s not
enough to start a farm, but maybe the dwarves will want them,” Tarla said.
“Speaking of dwarves, Asha should be back soon,” Bell said. “I
hope he hasn’t led any to us.”
“We have over a dozen scouts securing the area. I’m sure if we run
into something, we’ll know. But I do share your concern. I had this notion
in my head back when we fled Tarb. We would find a big city and I would
jump a wall so I could hide in an estate.
“Once I was in the city, I wouldn’t get my score checked, and we
would manage to thrive under the disguise of being an odd estate. However,
the goblins are people, and I hope they’re loyal compared to how they
ditched their old chieftain, Arcini,” I said.
“Yeah, and now that you’re letting them level up with the scrap Z
we get, they’re actually molding into decent mages and -”
“Super cheap. Like it's a no brainer for how minimal we spent for
their upgrades,” I said. “I still worry that won’t matter with their societal
norms.”
“They’re under orders not to accept a challenge, and you’ve placed
a minion in their midst to encourage them if a fight breaks out. Problem
solved. Their magic is good, even if it’s not near what Jark can do,” Bell
said with a shrug, “but still better than just a plain skeleton.”
Jark came jogging to me and said, “A nice clearing ahead. Asha is
already helping secure the spot for the night.”
“Well, that answers that,” I said, deciding to go learn what Asha
had found.
The elva wasn’t one to waste time, so him deciding to set camp
meant nothing was urgent. The pines opened up to a craggy slope, revealing
a larger clearing than normal. Asha carefully stacked rocks, leveling off a
spot for our pre bed fire pit.
The front of our caravan entered the clearing, spreading out to
establish our camp.
“What did you find?” I asked, grabbing a rock to help him.
“You and I are going trading in an hour. The dwarves are setting up
a market at their gate outside their hold. I chatted with them, trading
information. They have a few targets of opportunity their scouts suspect are
ripe for attack. Things haven’t changed in their orders, but there certainly
has been a change in perception among the guards.
“The dwarves I talked to were sour grumps about not being able to
fight. They want to crush the tide of strivian wildlings that plague the lands
outside their holds. Their orders are strict. Unless it can be lured to the
walls, it is to be avoided,” Asha said.
“Hmm… Interesting. At least they won’t march on us while we
sleep. Did they scan your orb?” I asked.
“No, but they had a full division setting up for our arrival.
Apparently, a human force conducted some sorties in the local area and has
Zorta to spend as well. Are you sure you want to risk this much Zorta?”
Asha asked.
“It’s not just the Z, Asha, it’s my life too. I’m risking everything by
going. Clearly, nowhere is safe, and I have to take risks for now. If we
establish a major trading partner, this little group might just survive,” I said,
watching the goblins happily enter the clearing.
Finding determination I had failed to grasp earlier, I said, “Yes, we
leave now, actually. I want to mingle while we wait for the vendors to set
up. Fetch my Charlie and Lady Bell.”
“Yes, Boss,” he said, leaving my side.
I continued his work, waiting for Tarla to arrive with Jark to
complete our group. I finished setting a stone to address them.
“Jark and Tarla are staying behind. If I die, you’ll know right away
and are to make haste without the trolls and goblins for Nara,” I said. Jark
nodded and Tarla bit her lip to keep from speaking out. “You’re in charge,
Tarla. The strivians respect you more than even Asha.”
“The matriarch has power in their societal structures.” Asha nodded
and Tarla blushed.
“I’d rather go, but I will ensure the pack hunts, the strivians rest,
and we are ready for your return,” she said.
I couldn’t help but smile proudly. My new life was different and
I… I had changed. Relying on her made me better, not weaker, and I kissed
her cheek in thanks.
“I’ll ensure she gets the help she needs,” Jark said with a nod.
Bell went from holding Charlie’s reins to vaulting into his saddle.
Attached to the back end of the horse rested over a thousand Zorta in many
sacks. Most of the Z came from the minotaurs, and a good portion simply
from having over a dozen skeletons hunting prey day and night.
Yermica, the troll who had cozied up to Asha, arrived with a basket
full of snakes and beside her another troll female carried the cerberus pups.
Asha kissed his new lover on the lips, accepting the basket.
I grabbed the pups’ basket, staring down at the four fluffy canines.
They just weren’t enough to start a breeding program with, and we didn’t
know if the skeletons could breed if I resurrected them.
That was another issue for another day. Nee was pregnant, but Garr
wasn’t the father. While ouch for Garr, a goblin had never come back from
the dead before.
I shook the thoughts out of my mind, staring down at the pups.
There was a chance the humans or the dwarves would be able to give them
a half decent home.
“Are you sure, Damien? We can use the pups. They’ll mind well if
you give them a chance,” Bell said, her eyes glancing to one of the skeletal
cerberus who watched me with the pups.
“Ugh, you bleeding heart hippies. Twist my arm.” I pretended to be
offended but set the pups down and spilled them out of their box.
Their triple heads caused them to stumble, but they shot off to
chase what was likely their mother. All except the runt. He turned to me,
pawing at my leg. The other pups and the skeleton they tried to chew on
left, unconcerned by the runt being left behind.
I bent down and scooped him up.
“The snaky lizard things are going,” I said. “Same with this guy,
but he might be a new friend that I tease in trade.”
“That will help with morale,” Yermica said. I eyed her until she
continued. “You’ve continued to prove to be a worthy Chieftain. Excuse
me, a worthy Boss. You’ve decided to not let the power of the tribe
diminish. A wise choice.”
“And the chance of dissent? Not from this action, but in general,” I
asked.
“Zero. Even zero if you sold the pups, but they’ve bonded and will
protect the… the…” Yermica struggled for the right word.
“The tribe is fine for now. Maybe a city one day, but we’re certainly
a nomadic people at the moment. Alright, I’ll get in the skins and meat
wagon,” I said, heading to the trade wagon.
The steady stream of our tribe continued to spill into the clearing,
quickly going about their tasks. I watched the heavily laden donkey and
centaur hauling a lot of our gear at the back of the group.
Not far away, a mare pulled the wagon I carried the pup towards.
The trade wagon held everything we could get rid of, which was limited. I
glanced at the wagon bed, seeing mostly the result of hunting.
A youthful goblin cast a final ice spell over the meat piled high,
applying a final coating. Asha joined me on the driver’s bench, and I
snapped the reins, following his guidance.
“You continue to impress me,” Asha said when it was just us on a
mountain trail. Bell rode Charlie close enough to join in on the
conversation.
She said, “How so?”
“The goblins and trolls being allocated Zorta upgrades,” Asha said.
I glanced over my shoulder, noting thousands of hides and
hundreds of pounds of meat.
“Our gains are plentiful and our foes are mighty,” I said. “Look, I
need a thousand Zorta to reach necromancer four. A hundred Zorta would
raise our armies might significantly and do it now. They’re building traps,
fishing streams, and they work. They should earn a living wage, and we
could use the help.”
Asha nodded in agreement, a loose white hair falling into his
vision. He tucked his hair into a man bun after pointing left at a fork in the
road. The jostle of the wagon seat was nice as my feet were tired from the
long night of walking.
“When I returned to life, I was concerned that you’d turn into an
evil man, hell-bent on getting home. I - I - I find this hard to say, but as an
elva, I’m not sure I would have the same outlook as you do,” Asha
admitted.
I started to understand where he was going with this.
“You die when I leave, or so we think. If I raced to ten thousand to
get home, you’d cease to exist. That is your logical thought process for my
actions. I should only care about going home and not about what happens to
you?” I asked.
Asha chimed in and said, “Exactly. I died because I was captured
by centaurs, not because of you. They’d have killed me regardless. Instead
of shunning my existence as a tool, you profess your devotion to Caitlyn,
and you’re increasing your power on Nordan. The man I met, no offense
intended, seemed to be the type who quickly accepted a short cut.”
“I’ll try not to sound vain or foolish here,” I said with a smirk.
“Sometimes the shortest path we see is not the quickest. What I mean by
that is, if the goblins being better casters helps our military might. Fantastic.
Even if that may seem like a long term investment. If we defeat the great
Chieftain Torbarb in an epic battle that nets me ten thousand Z, then was the
investment worthy? Yes, yes it was.”
“Torbard was the name the scout said, but close. I see your point in
a roundabout way, but I still think Caitlyn is going to sucker you into side
quests and side deals,” Bell said, surprising me with her honesty. “Which, I
have a confession...”
“Please share,” I said, having to stand to see her. The trail
narrowed, and she led Charlie to trail the wagon.
“I made a deal with Tarla. I figured Caitlyn might favor the sheet
warmer of her champion, and for a bit, I worried I might not become the
head priestess after all,” Bell said, catching back up when the trail widened
again.
She adjusted her leather tunic, tightening the cleavage inducing
neckline. “I’ve grown less voluptuous and her more so. The champion
picked her and not me, and yes, I understand we have a reason to not be
together. But if I were an outsider, I’d think the matriarch of the champion
would be his head priestess.”
We left the pines, heading uphill on a gray stone road. The
mountains dominated the landscape, and in the far distance I could see
shining armor reflecting sunlight.
“Okay, but I still call you my head priestess and never plot or plan
to replace you from your position,” I said, telling her the truth.
“I know because Tarla said she wants to go with you,” Bell said,
and I gasped.
“Shit,” I blurted in dismay.
“Yup,” Bell said.
Asha chuckled and added, “Take me too, because I’d rather not die.
Then there’s Jark.”
“Ouch. Yeah, there’s still so much we don’t know,” I said with a
sigh. “And let me clarify. Not shit ‘that’s bad that a woman wants to follow
me to a different planet. That’s amazing and crazy. Shit because no way
Caitlyn will let that happen for free.”
“And hence my confession about why we suddenly get along. I
agree with Asha. You impress me with your lack of immediate greed. I also
thought it was silly you let the goblins give you a shopping list. At first
anyway, the trolls I understood, and then I thought about it,” Bell said,
smiling.
“Yes, well, we’re a team. Our people… our team members have
needs. The goblins are literally going to become baby factories with that
forest milk,” I said.
“Yup, the more I pondered the situation, the more I understood your
reasoning. But Damien, make no mistake, as we go north, there will be a
reduction in easy to harvest Z. Our spending habits will have to be
curtailed,” Bell warned.
I sighed with a nod. “We have threats on all sides, and honestly, I
may drive us back into strivian lands,” I admitted.
“And what, conquer troll outposts?” Asha asked.
The thought had crossed my mind. Seven days of boring travel
gave a man plenty of time to plot and plan.
“Today will hold a lot of sway over what comes next. This trade
will open doors or shut them, and we will adjust accordingly. However…” I
wagged a finger to emphasize my point. “Growing our power should be
considered, and if we can use a barely trained force in a surprise attack
against an untrained force, we should.”
“The dwarves are going to want more than a thousand Z for all that
you want,” Bell said.
Asha shook his head and said, “We won’t know until we try.
Speculating only helps so much.”
A company of dwarves riding rams hurried out to cut off our
approach. We let the time pass by, continuing lighter conversation while
enjoying the early morning rays. Eventually, we arrived at an imaginary line
on the mountainside where the dwarves paused.
The dwarven cavalry sat atop burly rams with thickly curled horns.
The mounts went armorless and shuffled in apprehension at our approach. If
I had to guess, they realized Asha was not natural.
The dwarves calmed their mounts. Their beards of red, gray, and
black went to chest level in multiple braids. Their armor gleamed, reflecting
the sun brightly. The craftsmanship of the gear marveled anything I had
seen before. Even the looted armor paled in comparison to the intricate
engravings of hammer, smiths, and images of battle.
Each of the warriors gruffly stared at our approach, resolute in their
grumpiness, refusing to budge when I smiled with a wave.
“State your purpose,” the lead dwarf said.
Again, his voice did not match his words, telling me the gods
translated. His mannerisms were clear, though. We needed to halt and
explain ourselves. I yanked back on the mare’s reins, stopping the wagon.
“My team member said he spoke with the guards about a trade. I
bring a wagon full of fresh meat, skins, damaged armor ripe for repair, and
even live strivian animals for breeding,” I said. The last bit caused him to
raise an eyebrow. “Just a river snake with feet and maybe this pup we
rescued.”
“Alright, clearly you're the first of the two parties. Bit early,” he
said with a grumble. Off handedly, he asked, “How was it? We got time
before you can approach anyway.”
I leaned forward from the driver’s seat, sticking my elbow on my
knees. I had mulled over how much to tell them. Half-truths seemed the
best.
“I was locked away from adventuring for decades. When my oaths
finished, I found more adventure than I cared for,” I said with a sad
expression. “It started with a hard fought battle against a small herd of
centaurs, each of us increasing our magical prowess. We lost a good man
that day, but I’m finally getting to improve.”
“Pfft,” a younger lad behind the main guard exclaimed. “Try
finding no adventure.”
“Bart, shut yer yap. Please continue Mr…”
“I’m Damien, that lovely priestess is Bell, and this is our scout
Asha.”
“Gronbri, and this is the Ramstars,” he said proudly of his unit. I
desperately wanted to laugh at their name, but held in my reaction. “Please
continue with the tales of the strivian lands.”
I smiled and said, “I could always use a friend and will tell you and
your wonderful warriors of my journey for free. I’d even pass out the ale if
we had any.”
“Here, here,” the dwarves grumbled in appreciation.
I launched into the tale of leaving Tarb and being chased by a
grizzly bear we had hunted. Our pursuit had led us into a skirmish with
centaurs, near a minotaur city, and through a goblin village.
Bell delivered the basket containing the snake creatures, and the
dwarves all took turns looking into the weaved basket.
A horn sounded from up the mountain, and Gronbri had us follow
him. “Each of the traders are good kin, worthy of selling you items you
need. In exchange for the tale, I’ll warn you off the largest vendor on the
left. As times have grown tough, he has squeezed the little vendors out,
cornering the market.”
Inwardly, I groaned. Outwardly, I smiled with a nod. Of course I
wanted to buy goods cheap and in bulk. Me saving the dwarven economy
was I gasped at what awaited us as we crested the hill, arriving at a
plateau that leveled off. The mountainside stretched wide left to right and a
thirty foot wall protected double sets of steel doors that towered a hundred
feet high.
Atop the wall, thousands if not tens of thousands of dwarves stood,
observing the trading outside their city. Banners snapped in the wind, and a
dwarven unit perched in saddles on griffins.
I was stunned. The sheer power was enough to defeat the cyclops
and crush the minotaurs.
Yet this army grew in might as it waited.
Then it dawned on me.
A lot of these dwarves were aged. Their different appearance and
excessive armor hid a lot of the faults. Our thousand Zorta would probably
turn back the time for a good portion of this army. I had only needed around
five Zorta to become sixty years younger.
“I know it's not my place, but there were five cyclops at the base of
the valley only a week away. Probably worth a thousand Zorta each,” I said
in dismay.
“We know. We may shelter in our walls, but we know of just about
everything that occurs outside our hold, and I appreciate you retelling most
of your story accurately,” Gronbri said.
“The oaths protect me,” I all but stammered.
“Aye, they do, and you’ll be safe. We actually care not who comes
to our doors at the moment. Even the centaurs could trade with us and we
would accept their wares. We have our ways, and you have yours,” Gronbri
said.
For good measure, he added, “I’d share a beer with a necromancer.
Did you know that Dwarves can be born necromancers?” he asked, and I
shook my head. “We have healers too. A dwarf dies, and he happens to be
unable to find a healer in time. A necromancer raises him, when a healer is
available they restore them. Your elva’s hair and eyes give it away. Plus,
elva are right assholes and hate humans. Dead giveaway. Get it?”
The unit roared out a laugh at his pun, and I flushed.
All this time I had thought I had some special formula. While I was
two in one special, I hadn’t discovered something unique, merely unknown
to me.
I have a feeling they know more than they’re saying. The casual
nature of the admittance, the nonchalant posture. Yeah, his smirk is giving
me a warning, as if he wants me to cue in.
“Hey, um… Hmm… I’m looking to establish a home not far away,
and yeah, I’ll have an army if I keep fighting,” I admitted.
“Figured as much, and why I was the one who greeted you. Official
title is Ambassador Gronbri. You came to our gates in good faith and
omitted truths to protect your unique nature. I’ll be warning ya now. It only
takes one knowledgeable human to figure out what you are,” Gronbri said,
and the other dwarves snickered.
“Ah, because knowledgeable humans are rare,” I said, and they
nodded.
“Now, fret not. We sorely need Zorta and welcome any traders who
gather it for us,” he said, urging his ram forward to pet the mare. He smiled
up at me and added, “The dwarves may trade with Nara, but we have
grudges entombed in stone from before the great cataclysm. Those who
slighted our holds still live too. Not far to go. Keep up.”
I couldn’t help but feel intimidated as we approached the mighty
walls with the bristling guards. A message was being sent - tell the
minotaurs what you see. Tell all the strivians that the dwarves are going to
one day leave their holds, and when they do, their might will crush all in
their way.
“Before we start trading, I have someone I need you to meet,
though. Mostly because you need to meet her before the hundreds of
humans arrive,” Gronbri said.
We shifted under a massive entry. The spikes of a portcullis dangled
above. The thick wall had a series of steel doors. In the distance, a
courtyard opened up with the half circle wall protecting the space.
Vendors shifted goods out of the wide open doors, carting supplies
to set up for the day. Most of the dwarves wore simple robes and goofy
wide brimmed hats. Their bushy eyebrows were not enough to keep the sun
out of their eyes. Most were pale, a few held white hair, and not from old
age.
I spied female dwarves who held soft and supple curves. The
dreaded ugly bearded females were false on Nordan, and their outfits
reminded me of the 1920’s summer dress style.
The youth hustled much the same as teenagers would in a human
city. Rams, mares, and even a bear hauled out goods to trade. Our wagon
parted the stations, heading toward the large opening within the courtyard.
A large scale and stage rested near a market building. If I had to
guess, the dwarves used this space between the main hold doors and the
towering walls as a sunning area. Gronbri led us by it all and headed for the
scale.
“Your goods will be auctioned here. Your items are guaranteed safe,
and the transactions will be accounted for with only a five percent tax,”
Gronbri said, and I nodded in understanding. He shook his head when I
didn’t catch his meaning. “Get off the wagon. Your goods are going to be
sold.”
“Ah,” I said, carrying the cerberus runt in my arms.
Bell dismounted Charlie, hitching him to a post. Immediately, she
was swarmed with questions about the horse’s legacy. I eyed the horse,
never thinking of selling him. I bet that might change with how interested
these dwarves were.
She managed to free herself from the throng of eager buyers. A
team went to work, sorting our trade items onto the stage. Gronbri snapped
a finger to have us follow him.
We left the open market for the interior of the dwarven hold. The
massive openings were daunting, and I wondered what they kept in here
that required doors so tall.
INTERMISSION 1
Litroo
Toneba
He awoke in confusion, a bulging pain in his forehead ever so
slowly abated. Toneba knew he died. He knew his last breath was taken and
his body forfeit to Arax for safe keeping.
“Why?” he said, shaking his head. “Why am I alive? Why?”
He repeated the why, clutching a wooden object in front of him.
Toneba immediately realized he wasn’t old anymore, his squeeze devoid of
arthritic pain.
After a dozen blinks, Toneba’s eyes cleared. He found himself
sitting in a pew, the fog in his mind fading at a gradual rate. His eyes
worked wonderfully, the need to squint constantly no longer present.
He spun around, seeking the reasons for this interruption to his
great sleep.
A church, yes, he recognized this as an Arax church. One or the
first ones from before the cataclysm. He recalled a time when Mariee led
him through these sacred doors. Right now, a portal shimmered golden, pew
were empty, and a great statue of Arax dominated the head of the church.
“Oh, Arax, why did you let the world go to shit,” Toneba muttered.
A question he often repeated to the greatest of gods. He glanced down at his
hands, noting out loud, “My skin coloring is off.”
“Welcome,” a disembodied voice said. The walls themself spoke
and Toneba frowned in displeasure. “You’ve been a devout believer since
the early days. I apologize you missed my notice earlier and your skin tone
is off because you're a new you.”
“Who are you? Where am I? What have you done to my body?”
Toneba asked rapidly. He spun, not finding the source of this magical voice.
It started to don on him, but the man was stubborn, finding it hard to accept
this reality.
“My name is Arax, you are in Litroo, and you are being given a
second chance. Would you like to know more or go back to the soul pits?”
Arax asked, his tone containing an edge of impatience.
“Why bring me back?”
“Ah, I actually hadn’t intended to. I lost a champion to a high
priestess assassination. My own, no less. They converted away from me. A
rare occurrence of a different god whispering into their ears. I’ll never know
which of the new gods did it, because the Zorta was stolen, and the high
priestess banished to Earth,” Arax said with a sigh.
“I do not understand?” Toneba said in dismay.
He didn’t believe he would ever speak to Arax. The great and
fabled god would always be beyond his status. Except, he actually felt a
connection to the voice, one that spoke of power and servitude.
“You died. Alone and forgotten besides a notice on my page of
millions who were devout and perished. There’s too many believers to track
sometimes. But… you came with a caveat. You died, and some foolish god
utilized your corpse during her inept spell. Yes, Toneba, a champion of
Ostriva assumed your flesh, reaped innocent lives in your Yew Wood, and
extorted dear Desra,” Arax said, his voice oozing with disdain and hatred.
“I again, do not understand. Forgive me, my benevolent Lord.”
“An Ostriva necromancer inhabits your body, twisting it into his
image, reaping the flesh of the dead with his ghouls, and he must be
stopped,” Arax said in a commanding tone.
Toneba frowned and not just because his body had become a vessel
for an evil entity, but also because Arax seemed to be a range of emotions.
He always figured his god would be benevolent, wise, and compassionate.
Toneba could resonate with the god’s anger. Only a demon would
unleash a necromancer upon humanity, and that must be stopped.
“I see clearer than ever before, and not because I’m young again.
Which god has allowed such filth onto our sacred lands?” Toneba asked
from between clenched teeth.
“Unknown, and will remain unknown for quite some time. They
have a head start on you. I sent agents to catch them, fearing awakening a
champion, and my faithful failed,” Arax said.
“Champion?” Toneba questioned.
“Yes, as told earlier, I find myself with a sudden opening and in
need of a faithful servant. I’ll make you an offer,” Arax said and Toneba
fidgeted in excitement.
The man lived his life for his god, and any task would be a blessing
of its own. He had sought a purpose besides to find Mariee, and now, he
was likely going to get both.
“End the champion, donate the Zorta to my church, and I will
reunite you with Countess Mariee,” Arax said.
“End, as in kill…” Toneba said hesitantly. “After losing Mariee I
became a complete pacifist and I’m a healer.”
“You’re not Toneba of Yew Wood. You’re Toneba, Arax’s
Champion, Healer and Arcane mage,” the voice boomed with authority.
Toneba gulped, realizing he had to make a choice. Something he
never expected to do was waver from his convictions of peace.
“Will his demise help the people of Nordan?” Toneba asked,
already knowing he would change for his god and his lost love.
How could he not?
“Undoubtedly. You will be given a trainer, a priest to aid you, and
then a week to march north. The last report we have is the necromancer is
heading north for Nara; his trail should be easy to track,” Arax said.
“And no Mariee now?” he asked, his tone saddening.
“Heavens no. That is not how this works. I know her location and I
need his Zorta. Now, I’m a busy god, Toneba. Kneel before my altar, and
pledge your life to ending the man in your body. His name is Damien
Moonguard, and your priest will have a drawing of his likeness. Kill him
and come back to me for your reward,” Arax said, his voice booming in the
empty church.
“Will I be given coin, or Z, to finance the mission?” Toneba asked
and only received silence in return.
Knowing that he was given a mission and orders from the divine,
he knelt before the altar of Arax and pledged to kill Damien Moonguard.
CHAPTER 29
Targo Hold
Marble tile lined a road at least three hundred feet wide that
stretched until the image blurred. A hundred intersections dissected the long
road, and guards managed traffic much like a stop light would. Wherever
this road went, it was busy and meant to showcase the might of the realm
with large carvings of mythical creatures, dwarves, and war items.
I wanted to stop and examine them more closely, but we ducked
into a stairwell as soon as we crossed the cavernous threshold. After five
flights of stairs, we arrived at a landing with guards in the finest armor
imaginable.
Each of these stout warriors remained young, their fierce glares
hating the fact we even were in their presence. The guards didn’t move or
even flinch, letting us pass with Gronbri leading the way.
This has to be someone important.
Extravagant doors slowly peeled open, revealing a vast balcony that
overlooked the inner courtyard and the outer market. Another fifty guards
lined the exterior and a single, large griffin raised its heads from where they
rested.
The message was clear; we were dead if we irritated whoever
earned this much protection. A guard removed our weapons, but I got to
keep the puppy. I guess that made sense.
The sun crashed against shining floors, and I followed Gronbri to a
seating section that overlooked the trading. The stage was already selling
our hides with a growing crowd of dwarves bidding.
We sat on the balcony, not having to wait long. A minute later,
Gronbri stood, waving us to follow suit. A regal dwarf strode directly for
me. The lady radiated a heavenly, golden glow.
That’s odd, first time I’ve ever seen someone glow on Nordan.
Maybe a high priestess. Hmm…
She had puffy cheeks, plush lips, and wore a curve hugging dress.
She clearly dressed for comfort against the warm day with her black hair
flowing and free. This woman projected modesty and beauty, and she eyed
me with a mischievous grin.
“Welcome to Zozo’s Hold. I’m Ginli,” the dwarven woman said.
“I’m Damien, this is Bell, and this my friend, Asha,” I said.
Gronbri scoffed, not liking my lack of proper protocol.
Ginli shook her head at his grumpiness and said, “Give us
champions a moment, ambassador.”
She headed to the balconies edge.
“Ginli, you’re confusing me,” I admitted.
“We don’t have much time but set the pup down. I’ll not be
responsible if you drop it. Worth more than the damn stallion,” she said.
I set the little guy down, its three heads growing curious enough to
sniff around while we talked.
She nodded in approval, watching the small animal as she talked. “I
come from Gearnix. One of the six planets tied together. Do you know of
it?”
“I’m afraid I do not. You said champions, as in there’s more than
one here?” I asked.
“Indeed. I represent a god called Zozo. The god of zeros and ones.
He happens to be a tinkerer, and that was my hidden magic which I think is
tied to the god who delivers us here. Not sure, because... You’re a champion
too. I see the glow all over you. I must admit you’re the first I’ve met in
over fifty years. My other magic is scrying. Do you know what that is?” she
asked.
I stepped to the edge, leaning against the ledge to do one of my
favorite things, people watch, but in this case, dwarves. “I actually know
what scrying is. It’s making sense. You sure know a lot about me.”
Ginli smiled and knelt to pet the runt. “That’s good. You have some
knowledge of how this world works. Was your planet similar?”
“I come from a planet where most of Nordan has been written
about, but the worlds are drastically different. Magic, mythical creatures,
and fighting with point systems? None of that is new as a concept, but it’s
mind blowing as a reality. I have to wonder how those directors and authors
knew so much. Almost as if previous champions have returned and written
such tales to the masses,” I said.
“Interesting, you must be from the pure human world, Girth,” Ginli
said.
I shook my head with a snicker and said, “Earth. So, you’re a
champion? What was your transition like?”
I was generally curious, and to this point in my adventures on
Nordan, I hadn’t been able to ask many questions to those with answers.
“I was a human woman past her prime. I craved children to the
point I was willing to become a second wife to a man who didn’t desire me.
I went to sleep one night and arrived in a dream realm. A warehouse of
gizmos, gadgets, and steambots. A god extended an offer that I doubted was
real and figured was a dream. Be his champion for the dwarves, and I’d be
able to have a hundred children.
“I eagerly accepted and even picked out my dwarven body. I awoke
in a temple of my god about a month after the cataclysm. Over the next few
years, we waged war to consolidate our power, pulling the other holds into
one. All the banners flocked to the dwarven champion Ginli. Yeah, pretty
epic times. How about you?”
“Uh… I was offered sex with a promise of bringing back my
parents from the dead, died during my transition, and ended up in the body
of a dead man,” I said with a shrug, and she burst into a laughter that stirred
the attention of the others.
“No wonder you’re a necromancer,” she said.
I did not share her enjoyment of my misfortune.
The griffin left the nest to sniff the cerberus puppy. My eyes
widened in shock when the orange beak gently clasped the pup. The griffin
retired to its nest, setting the runt down to rest with it.
“Dammit, Bradley,” Ginli scoffed. “He’s my oldest friend on
Nordan and is named after the last man I pined for. You know, I don’t want
to buy that pup.”
“There’s a bunch of those in the valley,” I said, pointing to the
cerberus who snuggled into the griffin’s feathers.
“We get our hounds, of which there are many, from the humans.
This will be a special one of a kind. Unless you have more to sell. They
really are a cute pair,” Ginli said with a happy sigh.
“Umm… as cute as a griffin and a three headed dog bonding is, I’m
wondering why I’m here. As in on this balcony,” I said.
“Clearly, it’s because you’re special and because you walked here,
to me, of all the places to go. Just be happy that Zozo is not a god of war,”
she said, stomping over to retrieve the puppy. The griffin stood, stiff arming
her from nearing the runt. “Blasted griffin. By law it has to go to auction.
I’m not a rich champion.” The griffin didn’t budge. “Fine, but you owe
me.” The griffin nodded. “Gronbri, come auction this… this… newest pet
and ensure I win.”
The ambassador didn’t hesitate, walking into the griffin’s nest
without any issues. The griffin named Bradley huffed in disappointment,
returning to rest in his nest.
“Sorry, where was I? Oh, yes. Your reason to be here. I pay tribute
to Zozo and this will get to the point, bear with me. Our arrangement was
that I try really hard to gift him a hundred Zorta a year, and if I do that, he
will be happy. Really is a simple god. I don’t think he even cares if I gift
zero,” Ginli said with a sigh. “He said to watch out for other champions. I’d
know them as good if they glow golden, bad if they glow purple. And
you’re golden from my scrying.”
“But I’m super high in Ostriva points,” I said.
“Ah, the human metric. The points don’t make one side good or
bad, just shows which direction your actions influence. It is important to
note that dwarves care not for what a human king judges his people,” she
said, tapping her chest where her heart was. “This is what matters. Your
glow has some fade to it. You certainly aren’t a virgin with no sins, but you
are still respectably golden. Hell, my Ostriva points are over a million from
trading with strivians.”
“Ah,” I said, catching on. “Were you told to help me?”
“Afraid I can’t, not how you’d like. But I can in another manner. I
can proclaim you a friend of Zozo which means you’re free to trade within
our walls. None of this fancy stuff.” She gestured to the courtyard. “Just
come to the door and don’t bring an army. We’ll let you in and more
importantly, out,” Ginli said.
“Wow, I… I appreciate that,” I said honestly, still a bit blown away
I was standing with another champion.
“It comes at a cost, though. Send your minion to grab the blessbaa.
It is the key to everything,” Ginli said.
“Not for sale,” I said, folding my arms across my chest.
Bell interjected herself at this point. “What’s it worth?”
“Everything, and I can give you nothing,” she said stoically. “It
comes back to why I pay tribute, and I have way overpaid.”
“I’m confused. You want to buy my pup but strong arm the fertility
goat deer thing?” I asked. “We want it to increase our goblin and troll
numbers.”
Ginli sputtered her lips in frustration. “And we need it because
since we’ve consolidated. There’s been a decrease in births. It has been a
long fifty years, Damien. Zozo promised a boon, and your blessbaa is that
boon. You’ll be hailed a hero for helping the dwarves,” Ginli said.
She walked to the edge of the balcony and added, “These people
have been through a lot. I’ll offer you open, unjudged trade year-round and
even sign a nonaggression treaty with you. Well, King Dimus will. Fine, I’ll
sweeten the deal. I’ll add information from my scrying so you can establish
a new home.”
“Twist my arm. I need trade partners and neighbors not wanting to
kill me. Any chance we can get a mutual defense pact?” I asked with a
winning smile.
My charisma check failed, and she shook her head but grinned at
my attempt.
“That is something even I cannot give. The King has said once we
defeat the spider queen invasion, the golems of the hallowed halls, and the
crypts of the sand people, we can turn our attention outward,” Ginli said.
I sighed, nodding in defeat. “Go Asha, take Charlie,” I ordered.
“Ah, about that. One of the guards will give you a ram. The damn
humans refuse to sell their stallions. Yours will go for a dozen stout rams.
Take the trade, trust me. The rams are fine cavalry mounts, and we need to
diversify our stock. The king will thank you if you catch my hint. This…
Charlie will become a stud for a new generation of our mares. He’ll be
ecstatic,” Ginli said.
A dozen rams would change our entire dynamic of travel. They
were on my to-purchase list also. Asha didn’t wait for an answer, heading
toward a returning Gronbri. We stood in silence, watching the auction
unfold.
The Ramstars returned to their mounts, leading Asha out of the
immense courtyard.
“You made the right decision,” Ginli said.
“I feel like I didn’t have a choice,” I grumbled, and I swear the
griffin laughed.
“Let me pass the time with a tale. A journey of my beginning. Back
then, King Dimus was Prince Dimus, the hold leader of Targo Halls. My
arrival was heralded and widely accepted as the champion the dwarves
needed. Mind you, all I did was create a blunderbuss with magic that didn’t
work with magic. Odd, and it barely fired a pebble, but it was a sign from
the gods to the leaders.
“The message I was sent with from Zozo was clear. Consolidate
and prepare for an endless war. What most humans don’t know is that not
all of the strivian races arrived in the valleys. Many of the greatest threats
arrived on Nordan via underground means. Immediately, the holds were
besieged from below.
“We knew the other holds begged for help, their ability to sustain
lacking. Here, we had enough dwarves to fight the demons below to a
standstill. Risking everything, we marched out with an army so grand I
figured Zozo had set me up with an unstoppably ally.
“A half dozen nearby holds flocked to our banners, abandoning
their homes when we sadly told them we were there to relocate them, not
reinforce. The stubborn dwarves refused, calling us traitors. To the last, they
died in their homes with grudges being erased with their demise.
“When you see the humans, they’ll say they went raiding old
dwarven holds, not into the valley like you. Which matters because near the
surface the challenges aren’t too bad since the sunlight is near. In the
depths, horrors lurk. After we consolidated this area, we had to march
south. If you ever get to dine in the royal hall or visit the library of battles,
you will find the bone trophies from the great cyclops and minotaur war.
“Imagine a battlefield with a hundred thousand against ten. But the
ten thousand have towering goliaths with single eyes. I scryed their
formations, I built my multi launching catapults, and it was not even close
to being enough. Only our sheer dwarven determination won the day.
“The fighting grew so thick and intense even the minotaurs wanted
a break. And, so, we pushed on, barely winning. The saddest part was all
the Zorta we left on the field. We collected what we could, but a horde of
trolls pushed us south.
“And so the process was renewed. We lost so many brave souls,
and I have to give it to the strivians, they fought like demons. The southern
holds were pressed up to their entry doors, desperate for salvation. They
joined our cause, increasing our might. When we crossed from south to
north, we did so on a similar path, crushing a troll army with our new
combined might.
“That was how the great war after the cataclysm ended, with a
massive victory and a lot of our dwarves upgrading their gains. However,
the problems below ground were only just beginning. The King locked the
gate, created a council of the fourteen holds, and built a hundred defensive
layers into our home,” Ginli said with a sad smile.
A mix of pride and shame was evident from her expressions.
“So, you seal yourself in not because you fear the outside but
because you already war on other fronts?” I asked.
“Precisely. We could fight out here, but the stalemates in the depths
may break. The biggest issue was that we lost so many during those first
few years. Even taking the steps we did, the dwarves still haven’t
recovered. Believe it or not, I’ve been scrying for a blessbaa. Our numbers
are simply too low. We have the infrastructure, we have the food, and we
have the willing mothers for the war effort. We merely lack the means to
break through the one child every thirty years stagnation,” Ginli said sadly.
“I guess the goblins won’t have that problem,” I said.
Bell cleared her throat and said, “You’re going to unseat the
balance. I’m not saying you shouldn’t, but if this blessbaa helps the dwarves
to have a baby every year, in a few decades they will march with more
power than I can fathom.”
“The herds and minotaurs use it. We simply needed our lucky day,”
Ginli said. “There’s always been an imbalance for the dwarves. Ages before
the cataclysm, the elva picked our kind off in the forests. Humans pushed us
out of mountain ranges to mine for their empires. It’s never been fair for our
kind.”
A dwarf wearing a red robe arrived, carrying the cerberus pup. The
griffin stood, guiding the frightened dwarf to the nest to deliver his friend.
“Remarkable,” I said, watching the odd duo snuggle together.
“And they’ll breed quicker, too,” Bell noted about the griffin.
“Yes, we will need to manage our production in accordance with
the increased demand. I expect to open a new front to raid from and maybe
even expand. Exterior farm fields would be delightful. We would certainly
pay for you to harvest the fields you left filled with vegetables,” Ginli said,
and I frowned.
“You’ve been watching me for a while,” I said.
“Yes, about that… I have a few things to tell you since we’re
friends now. The first is that there was a human warband following you out
of Tarb. They decimated the centaur home you visited. The males went to
muster for war, and their village now ceases to exist. They’ll blame you.
“As that human war party continued north, they walked right into a
minotaur ambush, forfeiting their gains and becoming slaves. Happened in
seconds, really. The other issue is that you pissed off the cyclops,” Ginli
said.
I nodded with a guilty smirk and boasted, “Yeah, we stole armor
from them.”
“Ha, that I missed. I figured it was loot from the trolls. No, you
missed something, and I can understand. The cyclops controlled goblins,
goblins that used to set traps and pay homage to them. Which explains why
they joined you. You stole from the cyclops twice now. Their looted armor
and their tithing goblins. The latter they will take time to notice. Rather lazy
lot, the cyclops,” Ginli said with a joyful snicker.
“Great, another foe to add to the list of those who want to kill me,”
I said.
“They always wanted to kill you, though, and they’ll raid trolls, eat
the trolls that produce like rabbits, and steal the goblins to trap actual
rabbits,” Ginli said with a shrug.
A commotion revealed a hundred humans arriving at the market.
They all wore fine gear with large stallions and genuine smiles. This was a
proper adventuring company if I had to guess.
“Time for you to go. We can’t be seen together. While you shop,
someone will deliver your trade treaty. Sign both and keep your copy,”
Ginli said, heading to a side room. She returned with three rolls of
parchment. “These are the reports I promised; easy, moderate, and hard.
Whichever you pick as your home, we will be available for trade.”
I stepped into the waiting room off the balcony. “Sorry, but go over
these out of view, at least.”
She frowned but nodded. “I can do that. Northeast of here, between
this hold and Nara is an old, abandoned town, called Kato. It used to hold
five thousand or so. An orc tribe occupies the city with minimal defenses.
Ownership changes hands often. Think of it as a harvesting spot for the
Nara army. They crush the resident, collect the Zorta, and return when the
city is occupied again. You could defeat that in a few days easily with your
growing army. The question becomes whether or not you will be another
speed bump to the Nara army.
“East of here will put you out of human touch for the most part. No
humans tend to venture around our hold for Seqa Valley. The area is devoid
of humans, and even dwarves rarely went that far east. There’s an old
dwarven mining colony resting in the hills, and there are many other
options, but that one is the easiest. The problems are many. You're only able
to trade with us or the minotaurs. Unless you want to risk the dragon pass or
the yeti caverns to get to Nara. Both are certain doom, though. The area of
Seqa Valley is infested with ogres, trolls, orcs, goblins, wyverns, dark elves,
spider queens, and more. One wrong fight, and you’re doomed.
“The final option is Ikara Valley. If you set up a home there, the
minotaurs might allow it. The centaurs that are coming will raze your
settlement with the help of the other strivians. If the centaurs get delayed,
the thousand cyclops of the valley will unite to crush you. Your gains will
be felt by the strivian lords, and your city warranted as a threat. If they
don't, the troll village you sacked was exactly what you thought it was; a fat
slob ruling a pittance of a village. The major troll cities hold hundreds of
thousands, and they fight under banners, not with that dueling nonsense.”
When she finished, I paused and said, “No chance of help if we go
to Seqa Valley?”
“If you capture the mine, we may, and may is a big stretch, help
secure the road. One thing is certain. If you occupy Kato, the centaurs will
literally run over the defenses. That’s assuming the humans don’t evict you
first. If you fortify the mine in the Seqa Valley, any invading army will
freeze during winter and die trying to find shelter,” Ginli said. “There is no
easy option, and you can reside here as a super easy mode, but you’ll never
leave. You’ll stagnate and eventually get evicted.”
Bell smirked, reviewing the reports. “You just want the mine open.”
Ginli shrugged and said, “It's not like you don’t have an excess of
free labor.”
I sighed and said, “I have heard of most of these threats, but what is
a spider queen? You’ve mentioned them twice now.”
“Human body that ends at the knees. Eight eyes from forehead to
cheeks. They trap sentients and then starve them. When they’re near death,
the queen will offer her milk from her breasts. It builds a slave-to-mistress
link. Her children and slaves become her army. The offspring will never
grow that large until the females venture out to start the cycle anew. And…
careful, they do turf war, but even dwarves used to do that,” Ginli said.
I rubbed my temples. “How would I beat them?”
“Depends on the power of the queen and the size of her army. Like
any other foe, you fight until one side dies. Spider queens tend to nest in no
retreat areas. A fire mage will do wonders, and her slaves normally fight to
the death. If you free, for instance, a captured dwarf, restrain them for a few
months with water and bread. They’ll lose their craziness and return out of
their enthralled state. Necromancers have an advantage with spider queens
because their minions are worthless and won’t feed the opponent. You have
a disadvantage against ogres, which also are nomadic when breeding,”
Ginli said.
I snapped my finger and said, “Books. Is there a book seller out
there?”
“Yes, more than a few. I highly recommend Seqa Valley for
numerous reasons,” Ginli said, and a new dwarf arrived carrying a ledger.
“The auction over?”
“Indeed. Eighteen crowns and thirty-seven gold. Impressive haul.
The stallion went high because someone bought the prized pup,” the dwarf
said.
“A hundred gold is a crown. A plain ram, used for hauling, only
fifty gold. So, I was right. The stallion was worth more than a dozen rams.
Prices will go wild if you start removing all there is on the market, though,”
Ginli said.
“And a Zorta to gold?” I asked.
“We have a lot of gold from constantly digging and no Zorta to
hand out. A crown to a Zorta, give or take, and most will happily accept
that rate,” Ginli said, shooing us out. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a three
headed puppy to bond with. Good luck, Damien and Lady Bell.”
“Same to you, Champion Ginli,” Bell said with a proper curtsy.
“Uh… thank you, and I look forward to shipping mining stuff down
a jointly secured road,” I said, and she rolled her eyes.
I had failed my proper protocols again.
We were escorted to our weapons and then out towards the market.
“So, easy, medium, or hard?” Bell asked.
“Medium and hole up for winter. I fucking hate snow,” I said, and
Bell snickered. “I really hate snow. Even though I try not to swear too
much, that’s how much I hate it.”
“You’re just thinking about the centaurs,” Bell said, our steps
echoing as we descended.
“Damn straight I am. They’re coming in force, and you defeat
cavalry by fighting in choke points. No place better to do that than a mine
shaft. Hell, things go too awry, you collapse the tunnel and dig yourself out
months later,” I said.
“And how do you plan on shopping now that you have a destination
in mind?” Bell asked.
I smirked, bounced my eyebrows and said, “Like we’re fighting for
our very survival. Every crown, gold, and Zorta will go to improving our
chances of securing a home.”
“It’ll be tough,” Bell said.
I nodded, knowing she was right. I had to hope my growing group
could weather the coming challenges. To do that, we needed to properly
prepare.
CHAPTER 30
Zozo Hold’s Courtyard
“Thanks for your business,” the dwarven wagon master said.
I clasped his forearm with a nod. The stern dwarf’s wide grin spoke
of true unexpected happiness. His two daughters eagerly trotted over rams,
attaching them.
“Thanks for keeping them here and helping us load up. You said
Tama Hall main market?” I asked.
“Aye, if you want something custom, feel free to give a wee
deposit, and I’ll trust ya fer the rest,” he said.
Bell handed over the amount due.
There went another thirty Zorta for a carriage and another seventy
for three more wagons with rams.
Asha had returned over an hour earlier, giving up our blessbaa. My
side adventure quests were nearly unlimited, but… I did add finding a new
blessbaa onto the list.
Not long after we gave up the seemingly sacred prize, I signed our
treaty, allowing us access to Zozo Hold’s internal markets. I certainly
wanted to dive into the depths of the dwarven capital and visit an inn, but I
worried for my tribe. These adventurer humans eyed me with too much
curiosity.
Before the wagons, we purchased tents, linens, cloth, wool, mining
tools, needles, hide, boots, cooking pots, and the list of basic supplies went
on and on. The goblins and trolls asked for mostly quality of life stuff.
Well, besides one of the goblins who asked for a war hammer with
godly powers. I did ask our guide, but he wasn’t nearly as amused as me.
The busy market forced us to avoid running into dwarves. It
reminded me of a mall in China - move or get bumped into. As the sun
peaked, so did the amount of activity.
I saw all sorts of dwarves; short, tall, handsome, homely, portly,
skinny, and even others sharing Asha’s fate. The general population kept a
moderately youthful appearance. Even if the dwarves weren’t raiding
nearby strivians, they certainly farmed and fought in the depths. The
Ramstars likely wanted a veteran look, telling me not all was as bleak as I
surmised.
Each vendor’s stall or station we visited was unique, their stores a
point of pride. No surprise, the vendors wanted raw Zorta over crowns or
gold. With most of the generic items complete, it was time to shop exotic
animals.
We faced a dilemma, one which the human traders probably
considered a boon. The Nara adventurers bought with Zorta, sold to obtain
gold, and then likely went to Nara to turn that gold into a whole lot of
wealth.
We had no outlet for the gold ourselves, and this was a problem.
Until we started a trade run to Nara, I simply didn’t need the gold and tried
to get rid of it.
The wagon master offered a twenty percent discount to take Zorta,
and I bit the proverbial bullet, accepting his offer.
Bell and I walked by a bustling bookstore. We glanced at the
spines, not seeing anything that leaped out at us. Currently, Asha was
shopping at the bookstore for us, using his elva knowledge to get the best
books, and I had to trust his judgement.
We left the busy area, heading to visit the stable section of the
market. The crowd was lighter here, the humans avoiding buying animals.
Bell appeared regal, smiling down at the dwarves without an air of
superiority but one of respect.
The courtyard paths changed, ending regular vendors. We arrived at
a section with horizontal fencing, and a livestock smell assaulted my
nostrils. I passed cows, pigs, ducks, and more common species with alien
variations.
We really needed to establish our own home before buying these,
making most of this market useless. I just didn’t see the merit in trying to
keep ducks while not having a home. However, I wanted to see the hunting
animals. The cerberus may have been rare, but when we arrived at a back
wall, good ole hounds were available in surplus.
“I didn’t expect dwarves to have hound dogs,” I said, kneeling
beside a kennel with six small, floppy eared puppies. Their tan hides were
freshly groomed. I glanced down to see the price. A rule of the market was
prices had to be displayed and could be haggled later. Twenty gold each.
“Damn, Bell, these dogs could be hunters, every last one of them earning
their weight in a single night. Yeah, that’s .2 Zorta a pup. Almost as cheap
as upgrading a damn goblin.”
“Yes, but they’re cooped up and not used in that manner by the
dwarves. Not saying you’re wrong. Just, if you get these, there goes any
stealth,” Bell said.
I shook my head. “We don’t need stealth. We have that already.
These won’t primarily be hunting dogs. They’ll be guard dogs and infantry
support. When they hunt, they crash through the forest and trees or push
animals into traps. I’m thrilled they’re here.”
I glanced down the line, seeing about a hundred puppies.
Altogether, no more than twenty Zorta as these bigger pups were worth
more than runts and smaller breeds. I continued down the line, leaving the
dogs to see a mole type creature.
The gray animal had fifteen claws on each hand and hissed at me
angrily, its nose sniffing furiously. I turned my head in confusion. The fat
body, the lack of eyes, and soft skin certainly didn’t tell me this was a
predator.
“Excuse me,” I said to a dwarf who waited for my summons. He
wore plain brown robes and bravely sported sandals in a shit filled area.
“What does this creature do?”
“Digs.”
“That’s it?” I asked.
“Yup.”
This dwarf wasn’t a talker.
“And what does it eat?” I asked.
“Shrooms. I got like a hundred of these below. They hate the light,
but Semu here is a sweetheart,” the dwarf said as the mole creature
continued to hiss.
“Umm… okay. Maybe once we establish our mine. I do like the
concept. I’m leaning toward buying all the pups,” I said.
“You’ll do what?” he asked with a laugh, as if expecting me to be
joking.
I stared at him flatly. “All the puppies. I just bought spare wagons
from the wagon master, Santri.”
“Sarrni?” he corrected.
“Yeah, that’s the one,” I said with a smile. “How much for all the
pups? And do me a favor, walk me through the rest of these animals.”
“That’s like twenty Zorta. No one buys that much -”
Bell handed him two orbs, and his eyes glazed over, verifying the
amounts.
She pulled me aside and said, “The hundred dogs are not worth
Charlie.”
“Bell, we need troops. Can I hire mercenaries?” I asked, and she
shook her head no. “Can I buy slaves?” I asked, and she shook her head no
again. “Will the dogs act as troops in a pinch?” She conceded with a nod.
“Charlie will pay for twenty rams. He was worth that, and we both know
it.”
We returned to the seller, the dwarf tugging on the braids from his
beard. His squinting eyes, scrunched face, and huffing told me he was
perplexed by us.
“But there’s finer pups on the other side of the market,” the dwarf
grumbled in confusion.
“Not everything is as it seems. I suggest you take the orbs, sell us
the pups, and show us the rest of your animals,” Bell said sternly.
I held in my comment that I’d likely be buying those too.
“Aye, I hear ya. Just an odd day. I normally have to explain how
good these animals will be. I fight for a sale, trying to explain how my costs
are higher than Ordan because it's only me and my family running my farm.
Twenty Zorta is enough to change a dwarf’s life, and most of the humans go
to Ordan’s large market,” the dwarf said, folding his arms.
As if on cue, Gronbri showed up and bellowed, “Larrin, I see
you’re doing business with our new trade partners.”
Larrin, the cagey dwarf in front of me, cued into what transpired
behind the scenes. His eyes flicked between Gronbri and I. He pointed to a
pile of dung the Ambassador almost stepped in.
“Always knew you were one of the good ones,” Larrin said to
Gronbri. “I’ll corral the best pups into a key pen. Unless... Do you want any
older dogs to manage them?” I nodded, and he smiled. “Well, I got some
old girls who aren’t much more than just howlers for invaders. I’ll need to
take a trip under to get them. Real cheap, though, and they’ll help manage
the pups just fine. Gronbri can walk you through the other animals.”
His need to convince me to buy an older hound wasn’t needed.
Cheap and potential minions were a winning combination. We had three
animal healers. If they added a little Zorta to their spells, we could reverse
the aging. It was a cost these dwarves likely couldn’t afford.
Larrin pocketed the Zorta Bell handed him, hurrying to leave.
Smart dwarf.
Bell said, “I’ll buy another wagon with a ramp, and a bed of straw
or whatever they have. We’re going to have an excess of goblin toddlers
soon, too. Here’s a hundred Zorta. Asha should be moving onto crossbows
next, and then you just need to grab some basic swords.”
Gronbri and I watched her take off before walking down the line of
pens.
“Can I help you?” I asked him.
“The humans were asking for a sit down meeting with the other
party leader. You’ve stirred interest with your large earnings. They managed
to defeat a single ogre and his thirty goblins, each only having a single
Zorta to spend. They call it Z, though, no matter how many times we try to
get them to honor the gods’ gifts, they stick to their ways,” he said.
I shook my head. “Not interested. I’ll likely try to avoid them. If I
already have their attention, there’s no telling if they’ll attack.”
“Not near our lands they won’t. The oaths protect you for now. The
most they can do is challenge you to a combat wager, and even then, we
normally decline the approval. We don’t need blood shed on these grounds
when they’re meant for trade,” he said.
I nodded, hoping the threat of angering the dwarves would be a
deterrent. “I need to increase my power by spending my Zorta. What do you
recommend?”
“The pups will take half a year to mature, but, sadly, we don’t use
them for their full potential,” Gronbri said, walking me down a line of
middle-aged dogs, a few wolves, and then a set of bear cubs. “In the depths,
the tunnels grow numerous, dogs are set at points of entry as alerts. They
bark, retreating when there’s a threat, and this allows the guards time to
posture for a fight.”
“Ah, so they don’t fight spider queens?” I asked.
“Nope, we buy hounds from Nara all the time. These ones that are
for sale go back to work when they’re not bought. I know it's hard for a
being of the sun to rationalize, but there’s more tunnels than dogs,” he told
me.
“Are the bears like the dogs?” I asked, eyeing the two bear cubs
who snoozed. “In the sense they’ll mind me without many issues.”
“The bears are unique. You can unleash them on their own, but
they’re slow breeders. Think of them as the stallion of dwarven society.
Well, the griffins are better, but these will cost a few hundred Zorta each. A
fully grown bear, trained for battle, and rideable, at least three hundred. But
Ordan is the right man for that purchase,” he said. “And if you’re willing to
sink some Zorta into an old bear, he probably has some out of date
breeders.”
“I take it you raised the bears from cubs to get them to be docile?” I
asked.
“A beastmaster handles converting aggressive predators into
mindful animals. Not too different from a necromancer, and certainly
different from an animal healer. All mages that are beastmasters can heal
their beasts. Not all healers can become animal tamers. It really gets
complex, and I’m sure our scribes have sold your elva something for you to
read.
“You’ll likely have a goblin or troll who will naturally always be
helping the animals,” he said and waited for me to ponder. I shrugged. “Get
a mix. Some old dogs, some young pups, and a few of breeding age. The
bears die to ten dogs but cost infinitely more.”
“I hear you,” I said, deciding to leave the stables.
Larrin needed time to return anyway, so I drifted to a weapons
vendor, picking out fifty basic short swords. There was no haggling. The
price was cheap, and I told him to deliver them to the wagon master.
When I arrived back at the animal pens, Larrin glanced around in
confusion with a half dozen old female dogs looking to him for guidance.
“I’ll take them, and as many pups as possible. Two quality studs to
boot,” I said with a positive tone.
He gasped, understanding my plan.
“No one spends Zorta on reducing a hound's age. They just collect
the Zorta and move on,” Larrin said.
I shrugged and replied, “I have some cats, great earners above
ground. You’d be surprised by what they fetch me. The valley is loaded
with an excessive amount of birds, rodents, and other critters not used to
scentless hunters.”
He nodded in understanding. “Secret’s safe with me,” Larrin said.
“Every cat I try to tame becomes an ornery little shit and vanishes.”
We shared a chuckle, understanding that cats were hard to tame.
Asha arrived, noticeably light of crossbows or books. Before he
could even reach me, Bell arrived with a new wagon. Adding to the
complexity of the situation, someone else interrupted my two friends.
My desire to avoid the Nara party met fate, and fate was a tall
woman with long blonde hair and piercing blues. At her side was a hawk
nosed man with sunken eyes. The shorter man carried a war hammer, thick
metal armor, and his face was twisted with a sour scowl.
She leveled a charming smile at me, bypassing an eye rolling Bell.
Asha stepped out of the way, and the woman paused, staring down
at him. The man stopped behind Asha, gazing at him with a predatory grin.
Their posturing concerned not only me but also Gronbri.
“An elva, with white hair. You’re rare beyond words, and now it
makes sense how you’ve earned a fortune in Z. Are you his guide?” she
asked Asha. Asha glanced at me. She wagged a finger in Asha’s face.
“Ignore him. I can double his rate.”
“He saved my life, and I owe him a life debt,” Asha said, telling
mostly the truth. “I apologize, but I’m not for sale.”
She stomped over the hay covered stables and said, “We wish to
join your party. I’m Countess Mariee, and my adventuring company has
every mage class within its ranks, all at least level ten. If I can’t buy him,
I’d like to join you in your large earnings.”
I smiled and said, “Five cyclops rest in the valley, or there's a series
of troll cities to the southeast. But we’re done fighting for now. Heading
west and trying to stay out of trouble.”
“No one goes west. Everything is infinitely harder there, and I only
have three healers,” the Countess said as if I would care. “Wait, you're
serious.”
“I seem to be getting that a lot,” I said with a shrug. “I’m here to
shop before we head to the sea and build a boat to cross the ocean. The trip
from Tarb left us low on supplies.”
This clearly was a lie, but the story held some merit.
“What?” her eyes shot to Bell. “He’s a loon. You follow a loon?”
“He changed my life for the better,” Bell said with a smile.
She snapped her fingers, bobbing her head as if she had unlocked
some great secret. The Countess said, “Ah, you’re a cult. What god?”
“Caitlyn,” Bell, Asha, and I said at the same time in a spooky
manner.
Countess Mariee shrugged and sighed. “A cult got lucky crossing
the valley. I guess I’ll have to convince the boys to grow some balls and try
the valley ourselves.” She batted her eyelashes at me and said, “Would you
please draw me a map?”
“Asha will. I have dogs to load. Tired of fighting every night,” I
grumbled as if it were a truth.
She looked down at me with skepticism. “You’re not from Nara. I’d
know because I track all the sanctioned parties hunting our lands. If you go
northwest, expect trouble.”
I didn’t need another enemy and told her, “I respect Nara and the
rules it has in place. I didn’t lie when I said I was from Tarb.”
This placated her enough to leave me alone. Asha drew her a crude
map, and she left a moment later.
I helped Larrin load up our twenty Zorta in purchases. Each of the
puppies wanted attention, and the yipping caused a big smile. Nothing like
forgetting a rude woman by being given love from a dog.
Dwarves hauled out two more wagons and a carriage, staging my
caravan outside the walls. The rams pulling the carriage were tethered to a
heavily laden wagon filled with supplies. A long string of rams waited
behind the last carriage, and I glanced at my new cavalry mounts with a
sigh.
I headed over to one of the long, wool animals, noting a shine on
the coat.
“Are you ready for an adventure?” I asked, reaching out with my
left hand to pet the ram.
The head turned, the snout lanced forward, and the ram smashed
two of my fingers in its mouth.
A few things transpired in a flash. I screamed from the broken
fingers -not in pain but in a rage.
The damn thing bit me. What the hell? You’re going down.
I didn’t heal my hand. I tucked my head and rammed the side of the
ram.
Even with the busted fingers, I reached under the torso to snatch the
outer legs and yanked in hard to topple the animal.
The ram slammed into the courtyard road, gasping in shock. I
snatched a horn, kneeling on the chest, and glared into the surprised eyes.
“You will obey!” I commanded with a bellowing shout.
A black magical power boomed out of my core as one the rams laid
down.
Shit, what spell was that?
I willed my fingers to heal, hearing them pop into place.
“Neat trick,” the human in the heavy armor from earlier said.
“Something only a demon should be able to perform.”
“I’m Damien, and I assure you, I’m human,” I said with a sneer.
My anger still roiled inside me. His insinuation had hit a sore spot.
I was a demon, reborn into a dead man, converted to myself through the
power of gods. Pointing that out to me openly only made me angry.
“Are you challenging me?” the man asked, his evil grin spreading.
“I don’t know the customs and would rather not offend my hosts,” I
said, finding my tactfulness.
Gronbri waved us both down. “While allowed, I highly discourage
any such notion.”
“The demon is scared and using our hosts as cover,” the man said,
more of his party arriving to back him up.
Within a few minutes, fifty of the humans egged on their man,
wanting to see a fight.
“The rules?” I asked Gronbri.
“Magic and weapons between two competitors,” he said with a
grumble. “No outside interferences allowed, and no combat to the death
without assurances for a resurrection.”
“What if he had a horse or was a beastmaster?” I asked.
“Allowed if the horse or beast is there at the start of the match,”
Gronbri said. “You can’t fight for twenty minutes, and then a dragon arrives
to save you.”
The man scoffed and said, “We fight to the death. The loser pays
the healer to get picked up and whatever wager we set.”
“You’ve got nothing worth my interest,” I said with a shrug,
playing at his ego.
“I’ll wager my stallion to say… twenty Z I win. Three Z for a
revival from the Countess,” the man said.
“Ah, you’re a healer,” I said, and she nodded. “Three Z for a
revival is cheap.”
“We like entertainment. Keeps us on edge,” Countess Mariee said.
“I can use the Z anyway. It’s not like I’m fighting within the next day.”
“And what if you get upset because I win and fail to pay?” I asked.
Gornbri said, “The offenders will trigger wards assembled before
our time, and a resolution will be reached. The oaths allow for
disagreements to be settled by combat.” He turned to the Countess and
added, “I advise you to not take this route and leave before something bad
happens.”
I understood he didn’t want a fight. I turned, willing to leave the
situation. Ordan had an old bear I was interested in seeing.
An object hit my back, and I paused. It didn’t hurt, but it was
offensive. When I saw a gauntlet on the ground, I realized it was meant to
piss me off.
“The stallion for twenty Zorta, three for a revival?” I asked, kicking
the gauntlet back to the man. “You’re that confident you’ll wager a fifty Z
horse for twenty? Incredibly audacious. I hereby challenge… What’s your
name? Likely going to forget it after I win.”
“Paladin Kirg, and I accept,” the man said, and now I understood
his desire to duel me and the name calling. Paladins existed to hunt
demons.
I bet he’s a holy mage. Which, yeah, will hurt a ton if he lands a
spell.
“The battle of grudges has been accepted, and a ring will form right
here,” Gronbri said, shouting his words.
A few dwarves abandoned their stalls, and a lot of the wall guards
turned inward. Shouts of ale for sale dominated the area, and a small circle
formed an arena.
I pulled out my sword, fumbling it.
“What manner of mage are you, demon?” Kirg asked.
“I’d rather not say. Asha, go stand by his horse they’re bringing
over so when I win, they don’t try to take it,” I ordered.
The elva nodded and walked by the man to stand behind him.
Gronbri knew what I was doing and kept a blank face. Bell came to my side
and whispered into my ear, “We don’t need more foes.”
“I know, but I’d rather not die,” I said. “And that’s a nice horse.
Can probably trade it for Charlie.”
“Fine, I really did like Charlie and Tarla was going to be pissed you
got rid of him,” Bell said.
“We needed the rams,” I said with a shrug, mis-balancing my
weapon.
“You keep pretending like you’re terrible with a sword, but it won’t
help,” Kirg said with a snicker, his fellow soldiers laughing at my expense.
“Oh, you’re noticing my ploy? You paladins are really smart,” I
said as if I meant it. “Can we start this already?”
Bell tossed two orbs to Gronbri, and Kirg smiled.
“The grudge begins in three, two, and fight!”
The paladin danced on his feet, chanting a spell immediately.
I stood there and nodded to my minion.
Asha became a blur faster than I could track. Kirg never saw his
demise as Asha’s blade swept out at the neckline.
One moment his focused eyes squinted with determination. The
next, his head shot off his shoulder. The scowl remained, never changing to
shock.
I had to give it to the other humans. They reacted faster than I
thought possible. Asha was stabbed with daggers and left for dead almost as
quickly as he had killed Kirg.
Golden bubbles surrounded the offenders immediately, powered by
the wards of the city and the oaths that bound them.
Pandemonium ensued, and I walked over to heal the mortally
wounded Asha.
His lips moved like a fish, his body pooling blood under him. I
seethed with a barely controlled rage at seeing my friend in such a manner.
“Up… gr… Up…” he barely managed.
I selected his body, Bell offering a purse of Zorta.
Hmm… upgrade my friend, or buy a bear mount?
“Ouch, Asha. Super ouch. I get it, you're almost dead. Why not let
the hands claim your flesh at this stage?”
Elva Minion: Asha.
Health 27/27. Level 2.
Sapient Elva.
Fighting Abilities: Highly proficient.
Memories intact.
Upgrade Available. Consume 35/241 mana and 62 Zorta (YES)
or (NO). Total Zorta required 268
“I see you’ve been lowering your Zorta cost. Do we have 270
Zorta?” I asked Bell.
She shrugged.
“I don’t have time to have you ingest it all before he dies,” Bell
said.
I nodded, focusing on my friend. “I promise when my mana is
higher or we have more Zorta prepared, I’ll upgrade you. This is not the
time, sorry,” I said and genuinely meant it.
He sadly nodded in understanding, dying a few breaths later. I sat
down, letting the mana exhaustion wash over me.
I saw the Countess break free of the bubble. She and Gronbri
conversed in whispers. A dwarf walked over, chanting to raise Asha.
The chanting grew, and a golden beam from the heavens burst into
my friend. The speed of the spell and the lack of a magical explosion
resulted in me knowing the dwarf had decent healing skills. Obviously, our
hosts didn’t want me to show my two magics.
Asha shuddered and then gasped, coming back to life. The moment
he was back on his feet, the mana exhaustion faded. I felt bad for not
upgrading him, but there simply wasn’t time, and he probably knew it was a
long shot when he asked. The promise hopefully was enough to tide him
over. He tucked his sword away, grabbing the stallion to take it to the
traders market.
Good, I wanted Charlie.
Gronbri waved me over to join him and the Countess.
I expected her to be enraged, maybe eager to challenge me to
another fight, but I found her horrified instead. She was clearly a warrior
woman, but right now, her shocked face gave away her dismay.
Four of her soldiers were in golden bubbles, and a fifth lay
decapitated.
“A fucking ‘mancer and you have a revived skeleton. Unreal. The
odds were next to zero, and you had to piss off the paladin. You are a damn
demon,” she said, recovering from her shock.
“Manners,” Gronbri said.
“Screw manners. What’s this going to cost me?” the Countess
demanded. I stared at her blankly, and she pointed to the four men in
bubbles. “You get to claim all their gear and lives if you want it.”
“Shucks, I just wanted your paladin to leave me alone,” I said with
a shrug. “We’re leaving, and I want to go in peace, never seeing you again.”
“You’re an idiot ‘mancer. Nara’s Adventuring Plus doesn’t charge
cyclops or war against armies. We come out to improve our lives and help
the common folk of Nara. This,” she flippantly gestured to the men in
golden orbs of magic, “will infuriate our king. Not a chance he doesn't hear
that a strivian human outwitted me.”
“I’m afraid I might just be that idiot ‘mancer you called me.
Where’s this going?” I asked.
“What is your punishment?” Gronbri asked. “Do you wish for their
lives and gear? Do you want to let them go free? They have broken the
oaths by attacking your magic. You dueled fairly, and they did not.”
“I want a bear I can ride,” I said with a shrug.
“A bear to have our transgression stricken?” the Countess asked.
“That would allow them to continue to trade with us. If not, their
main revenue of gold dries up, and they miss significant profits,” Gronbri
said.
“That and a pledge that if any party comes to hunt me, you and
your soldiers here will recuse themselves,” I said, gazing up at the frowning
woman.
She nodded. “How much is a bear?” she asked Gronbri.
“Ten stallions for an older mount. A cub is cheaper, but he
stipulated - ride,” Gronbri said.
She nodded and said, “I accept our punishment and will adhere to
the oath set by the challenged.”
The bubbles popped, and the fighters immediately sighed in relief.
“You could have had them killed, earned their Zorta, and claimed
their gear as well as mounts. You literally held their lives in your palm and
you spared them,” Gronbri said with a headshake.
“I… thanks. Wait here,” Countess Mariee said, leaving with her
party, walking to Ordan.
One of the healers stood over Kirg. She eyed me with disdain, and I
said, “Can I claim him?”
“What?” the healer asked harshly.
“No, they are waiting for you to leave to bring him back. He won’t
cope well and likely will cause greater offense,” Gronbri said. “Let sleeping
dogs rest.”
“We say it differently, but I follow. Anyway -” I saw Charlie
coming back with Asha on his back. “Charlie! Oh come on now, don’t get
mad at me.”
“It was all his fault,” Bell said, letting the horse nuzzle into her
breasts. She doted on the animal, and I left to let them bond.
Over the next half hour, the situation settled into a quiet ordeal. We
finished loading up the last of our purchases. Right when I grew impatient
with waiting, a cagey old bear lumbered over with a dwarf leading the reins.
He tied the bear up to the back of the ram lines and that was it.
No threatening goodbyes, no ‘you’ll pay for this’. The dwarves
thanked us, and I ordered the head wagon to roll towards our camp. Charlie
free walked with us, clearly wanting to return to the tribe.
The second we arrived at our camp, the tribe rejoiced at all our new
supplies. Without wasting any time, I had everyone load up and killed the
joyful spirit. We were heading back into Ikara Valley. I needed to get
distance on the Countess before she could scout and report what we really
were - a strivian caravan.
CHAPTER 31
Ikara Valley
“How many?” I asked Asha.
“Lumpy counts in groups. Kill, maybe kill, and run,” Asha said.
I grumbled and said, “We need to know. Take what you need and
properly scout.”
“Give me an hour or two please,” he said, and I nodded.
I rolled back over, canoodling into Tarla’s naked form. After two
days of hard marching, we finally reset to sleeping during the day. Of
course, the scouts had found a threat mid-sleep. I didn’t complain to the
snoozing lady beside me. I simply joined her back in sleep.
∞∞∞
Hours later, I awoke to an eager lover. Tarla and I pounced on each
other until Asha poked his head in to let me know it was time for a
briefing.
I donned my travel robes, equipping my sword, and when I exited
the tent, the fresh evening air smelled of lovely pines.
We didn’t find a clearing this time. Our group simply was getting
too large. The pines split our camp into sections.
The wagons and carriage did their best to create a circle around the
campsite.
The three horses, twenty plus rams, the horde of puppies, the adult
hounds, and the cerberus rested among the goblins.
The trolls meandered around the largest fire that boiled a large stew.
My minions piled an assortment of local kills in a pile by the fire. A team of
female trolls cleaned the kills while goblin fire mages preserved the hides.
The tents completed the interior, and I gazed upon the group in
wonderment. So many beings coming together to not only survive but
thrive.
Asha sat by the fire, a book in his lap. I walked over the crunching
pine needles, eager to hear what he had to say. One of the rams diverted to
get pets. I didn’t hesitate, reaching out. The head nuzzled into my touch.
“Damn straight,” I said, noting this was the ram who had bitten me
before. “I guess I’ll have to name you at some point. Still, not a Sprinkles,
though.”
“Naga, we found a naga nest,” Asha said over his shoulder. “Never
dealt with them personally. This is a human guide to strivian creatures.” He
lifted the book for me to see before returning it to his lap. “A naga is a
snake humanoid of land and water. They tend to farm fish, rarely venture
beyond their villages, and are extremely aggressive if approached. Observe
from a distance, and like most strivians, unless you want a fight, you should
avoid them.
“It says they’re fast in bursts and then they slow down. They have
human mouths in a sense of molars in the back. There are fangs with venom
in them. Grow to ten feet tall when erect on their tails, capable fighters, and
generally a prime raiding target due to their lack of allies.”
How odd, something isn’t adding up.
“How do they manage to persist in such a savage world?” I asked.
His finger traced down the page, and he read, “They reproduce
quickly and reach maturity at a young age. When a nest reaches a few
dozen, it splits and then the two will split into four. Basically, they’re a
small breeder race, not too different from trolls. Trolls tend to exile
potential threats to current leaders, and those new tribes only peel off a
fraction of the leader’s followers.”
Tarla arrived behind me, wrapping me in a hug.
“Breakfast?” she asked.
“Let me get it. I get wives serve husbands in Nordan, but I don’t
mind being equal. You got the last meal,” I said, heading to our bag. I
extracted two wooden bowls, fished out two meaty chunks of stew, and
handed one to Tarla. “Morning Nee, morning Yermica. What brings my
troll and goblin representatives?”
“We’re here for the war planning,” Yermica said.
“Ah, good timing.” I didn’t get them bowls.
Instead, the two teenage trolls worked to ensure they had meals as
well. “What else?” I asked Asha.
“Jark is watching their encampment now, but they’re going to be
heading to bed here soon,” he said.
“Not nocturnal?” I asked.
“Nope,” Asha said, holding up a finger. “They did have a shanty
that no one entered or left, so assume they have actual night guards.”
“Sounds like a decent spot to earn some Zorta,” I said, and he
nodded.
Yermica asked, “Do they use slaves?”
“Water golems with four legs instead of two and huge mouths,”
Asha said. He hefted the book and added, “Couldn’t find them in here.”
“Watalocks will flee into the water, as will the naga if they’re
losing. Expect a quick fight and then to not gain much loot. We almost
always avoided them as a troll settlement,” Yermica said.
“We attack and what? Get maybe thirty Z?” I asked.
Nee raised a hand to speak and said, “We need thirty three Z to
manage the animals back to prime age. The old dogs, the bear, and even the
rams are all elderly. The dwarves hid their age by fluffing their coats”
I hung my head and nodded. In order for some to live, some must
die. This was the way of the gods. Either I embraced it or floundered.
“Final assessment?” I asked Asha.
“An easy win if done right. Here’s my plan.”
We listened intently. Afterward, Yermica raised a hand. “There’s
more rams than trolls, and we tend to bond to our mounts. This will upset
the goblins.”
“If you assign us a wagon, just for us, that will nullify the issue,”
Nee said.
I glanced at Tarla, and she pointed to the wagon that held the pups.
“I guess we can talk about tribe issues. That one, but you share it with the
puppies for a few weeks, and when you give birth, we’ll force the bigger
ones to march and the smaller ones into the other beds.”
Nee smiled and nodded, approving of the offer.
Bell went next and said, “The treasury. Since I seem to be in charge
of finances since Jark gave up after his last revival. Over the last day and a
half, the skeletons have corralled another dozen goblins and earned fifteen
Z.
“After our boon from not over investing, we’re at 347 point… oh
geez, I lost track. Look, we’re over three hundred, and that’s not counting
the odd squirrel that gets caught, the orb ingested, and the body piled onto
the catches.”
All eyes drifted to me. Bell raised an issue we hadn’t discussed.
Those in need skimmed off the top.
“I guess I need to set an official policy. Hmm… give me a
moment,” I said, getting up to grab another bowl of stew. “Nee, go reduce
the age of our animals. Bell that is approved.”
I sat down, mulling over the dilemma. The animal healers went to
where all the animals rested. Green magic flared, returning the elderly to a
prime age.
“Thoughts?” I asked.
Yermica raised a hand, and I smiled with a nod. Hopefully, she
would get to the point where she just talked.
“Most chieftains collect Zorta and hand out a bonus once a year, or
month, or never. We do steal. Even the goblins steal. A rat dies, and they’ll
toss the meat into their stew before the boss ever has a clue. A battlefield or
a pile of birds, like that, nope, they’d die for stealing. A third of the trapped
animals, yeah, they’d go missing. I’ve had to personally spy on trapping
teams,” Yermica said.
She had likely told on the thieves, doing her job.
“What if I did, say… get to a thousand Zorta and then no collection
or even a handout for a week?” I asked.
“That would lead to a disaster,” Asha said. “Punishment for
thieving is death, and you start a slippery slope once you start killing your
own for greed.”
“Not to mention, Bell would kill you,” Tarla added. I frowned, and
the lovely redhead patted my arm tenderly. “Asking a single person to
micromanage individual handouts would be a horrible task. What’s wrong
with how the system is now?”
“We have no idea who’s consuming what,” I said. “Either I let the
tribe steal from each other, or I create something fair.”
“You’re missing something,” a goblin from nearby said. I glanced
over my shoulder to see an older male, waiting patiently by the carriage.
“My name is Fero. Nee is young, not a survivor. I’ve lived since before the
cataclysm which is ancient for a goblin.”
“Alright, considering you have the courage to assert your opinion,
share it,” I ordered.
“Thank you, Boss. I arrived three nights ago, aged to a point I
figured I’d die. Believe it or not, Lumpy brought me a pigeon hawk. I went
to toss it onto the pile, figuring I was being tested, that if I died of old age,
and you’d make a minion. If I died from stealing, then I’d die forever.
Lumpy brought it back to me, knowing I needed the Zorta to live. Needless
to say, the Zorta reduced my age by twenty years,” Fero said.
“And where were you that you couldn’t hunt and managed to find
us?”
“Ah, I could hunt, but times have been rough this year. This leads
into my point. I used my meager Zorta as a group that hid from the cyclops.
We shared our finds to persist and survive,” Fero said. “I may have let
others have Zorta before me.”
“You’re saying that there’s no greed among the goblins?” I asked.
“Ah, there is, as likely as there is with the trolls, else you’ll never
have a leader. But, if you’re a good goblin or a worthy troll, the others will
generally share. Are your tallies increasing?” Fero asked, and I nodded.
“Then you’re becoming rich, and your goblins are squeaking by. Trust me,
let them come to you for upgrades and large needs. They need to see you as
the hand that feeds them, and yes, the ruler they have to steal from.”
Yermica nodded, the troll woman binding her black hair into a
ponytail. “Agreed. This is our way. Plus, if anyone steps out with this
system, you can see them as the rebels they are.”
“That’s vague,” I said.
“Basically, if you give Nee, Fero, or some other goblin or troll too
much power, they’ll turn on you if they become unhappy,” Yermica said.
“Do not give Nee the Zorta to hand out to the goblins. Bell has to do it, and
she is. The caveat being if the goblins worship your god. The second they
become devout, you’re safe. However, that will take time.”
“Or me,” Tarla said, and Yermica nodded.
“Fine, I guess Bell gets more work, but you have a point. If it's
working as is, why fix it,” I said.
“You’re missing how big of a deal this decision is. You probably
just earned Ostriva points. You’ve passed on ruling your tribe as a Nordan
Lord. Instead, you’re ruling as a Strivian War Chief,” Yermica said.
“Ah, well, I can live with that. The dwarves taught me not
everything is a line in the sand,” I said, letting the discussion fade.
The setting sun cast a glimmering orange glow. The final bits of
daylight meant we would need to prepare. I watched the animal healers
finish converting the last of the dogs.
Three goblins chanted, blasting a spell of golden light onto the bear.
The magic shifted the bear, causing him to growl out happily. His gray fur
swapped to a dark brown, and his wrinkly face reduced to a healthy young
male.
Bell and Nee returned to the fire, sitting nearby. “I decided to not
change how we handle finances. We’ll horde the Zorta. If the underlings
have a request, it must be made like this one for the healing the animals
was. Only then will it be administered. We promise to be better than the
average… Boss.”
“Understood,” Nee said, shooting a scornful glance at Fero.
“Alright, everyone needs to get their final meal in before we march.
For those staying behind, the caravan needs to be ready to roll out the
second we finish our assault. For those coming on the raid, ready the troops.
We march to war.”
∞∞∞
Maybe he is right...
I doubted my next decision to the point I couldn’t make one at all.
This was a first, and luckily, we had enough time.
On the one hand, I had an Asha confident in our superiority and
surprise. On the other, Jark said he had a bad feeling that something didn’t
make sense.
Jark had been watching the naga village for hours, giving him
credibility. When the scout who spied the scene mentioned something is off,
you listened. He recommended waiting or at least not over committing.
I really hated being the boss sometimes.
I wanted to get further from cyclops lands and closer to Seqa Valley
to the northeast. That wouldn’t happen if we spent a week waiting for Jark’s
hunch to play out or proceeded with too much caution.
“I’m changing the plan,” I said, hands on hips.
The night sky stretched overhead with scattered clouds. The full
moon shone down brightly, displaying an eerie setting of soldiers in the
dark.
We crouched a few minutes away from the Naga village. Our trolls
were on rams, swords in hand, our goblins coaxed dogs, and the skeletons
waited at strategic points, silently waiting for my distant commands.
A strong breeze caused the wind to howl, and we were too far to
see how the naga currently acted. Something could always change, and
more importantly, my own gut was giving me second thoughts.
“To what?” Asha asked, arms folded.
“Quick raid, hit a few huts, and then back out to form battle lines,”
I ordered.
“But… that would leave dozens of Zorta ripe for the taking,” Tarla
said.
I nodded and replied, “Those are my orders. Jark and I have had
our differences, but taking a precaution feels right.”
“Permission to lead the charge?” Asha asked.
“Granted. I’ll be living through Arcini, the troll chieftain,” I said,
heading to the carriage.
I didn’t have a leader to challenge here. I could become one of my
minions, fight in a skeleton, and command my minions from the front lines
without ever actually being there. It just seemed like the smart thing to do.
The carriage door creaked open, rocking as I stepped into the
vehicle. Inside, Lumpy and the chieftain’s son waited to watch over me. A
blanket of feathers collected from kills filled the small space, waiting to be
stuffed into bedding. Nothing went to waste in our camp. I stepped onto the
soft layer.
“Good luck,” Nee said, sealing me into the carriage.
I laid down, feeling comfortable.
I closed my eyes, chanting, “Death is power, and I demand
obedience. Death is power, and I demand obedience. Death is power, and I
demand obedience.”
My third eye shot across the landscape, zooming over pine needles,
fallen limbs, and big rocks. I meandered through the forest, looking for my
target. When I found the thick boned skeleton, I dove into the frame.
The process was different this time. The big skeleton charged
ahead, forcing me to adjust to keep the giant’s run going.
To my left, a skeletal goblin ran, his sword ready, no sound
escaping as the little guy screamed out his battle cry. On my right, a duo of
cerberus tore across the pine needles.
I could not only hear the thunderous sound of twenty rams and
Charlie, eager for blood, I could also feel the very dirt under my feet quake.
My next step faltered, and I stumbled, catching my balance before I
fell. I roared out defiantly, joining the chorus of cries of those ready to spill
blood.
Minor problem. I didn’t produce any sound and realized I probably
needed to revive this big troll if I was going to use him as a projection
minion.
I clanged my swords together, following the main charge. My large
stride closed the distance, and I caught up to the main charge just in time.
I exited the trees for a clearing, seeing actual homes that stood
shorter than the frame I inhabited. The village rested with a river on the
right and a lake in the background. The front half had a half dozen homes
while the back half held twice that many.
The thunderous cavalry charge roared in hard from the left, most
trolls clutching their mounts in terror. A few grinning maniacs brandished
swords with glee.
The rams leveled their heads, aligning for a collision against the
homes. I shouted for them to stop, but they barreled into the poorly
constructed homes, bursting the thin wooden frames.
I bounded forward, eager to clean up the mess.
A snake humanoid slithered out from a pile of wood, a dagger in
their hand. I arrived as they tried to orientate, cleaving one of the cheap
blades into the collarbone of a female naga.
Her eyes bulged in shock, and she hissed out. After I yanked the
blade free, she gurgled a few final breaths before collapsing.
I ran to the next naga who fixated on chasing the rams in anger for
destroying its home.
Extra-long strides closed the distance rapidly. My blade sliced with
enough power to chop down a tree, cleanly cleaving the top half of a naga
free of the body. The tail portion continued to slither for a few feet.
I loomed over the torso, ramming my blade through the heart of my
confused foe.
The charge had decimated the front half of the village. Asha spun
the cavalry in a tight turn, leaving the back half of the village alone. Their
second charge cut down the few remaining naga.
A trio of trolls rushed to find their mounts as the goblins arrived in
their tight formations. Two golden beams shot down, reviving trolls killed
by their rams’ reckless charge.
Dual explosions split the air, surely waking any who had managed
to sleep through the chaos.
A pile of injured goblins moaned while they rolled on the grass. I
shook my head at the damage from the explosive healings. It was evident
we had a long way to go before our fighting force became proficient.
I clanged my swords, pointing to my left and to my right. The
cavalry kept a decently tight formation, trotting their mounts to the left. The
goblin infantry jostled their armor, trying to form new lines on the right.
Their organization struggled, even with Jark and a few trolls corralling the
formations.
A brief lull settled over the village. The sounds of the wounded
crying out faded over time as the healers fixed those in need.
I paced in a tight left and right pattern, my vision focused on the
enemy. I grew confused, not seeing the nagas doing what we expected.
My thought was they would retreat into water. Instead, it appeared
the nagas and the watalocks feared the depths.
Good thing I changed the original plan.
The first plan had called for our cavalry to race across the shoreline
and push into the village. Now I was worried what had the naga so scared.
The enemy started to react, chanting spells. The time for us to organize
ended.
I clanged the swords, slowly walking the advance line.
Spells crackled, dancing off the nagas’ fingertips. Lightning shot
down, scoring triple hits to my frame. I could feel my body in the carriage
shaking from the shock.
Interesting. I feel the pain, and yet I don’t, much like when the ram
broke my fingers. My mind is in another place maybe. Gotta focus.
Bones cracked, splintering in deep fissures. I stepped forward,
willing myself to heal my body.
Minion Arcini has suffered damage. Repair cost 28/35 Mana.
Repair (YES) - (NO)
Shit, that did a lot of damage.
I selected yes. My slow walk forward faltered, and I fell to my
knees. Black magic clouded around our front lines until it enveloped my
skeleton.
Shards of bone zipped off the grass, returning the bones to their
seamless origins after the magic melded them. I stood, the misty black
magic fading.
I walked forward with a grin, showing that their magic didn’t do
anything.
Roughly twenty naga hesitated while the forty watalocks eyed each
other in panic.
The book said they didn’t surrender, choosing to fight or flee. Then
again, books could be wrong, and I certainly saw their desire to flee
growing.
A watalock broke formation, the little fleshy golem fleeing to dive
into the water. An alpha naga shouted no, hands reaching out as if it could
stop the flight of the smaller creature.
Splash!
An eruption from the lake sent water soaring. Two large heads
breached the surface, and a second the slimy wide frame exited the water.
A leviathan waddled onto the shore, two heads fighting over the
watalock caught in the mouths. The hydra tore the watalock in half, a
shower of gore soaking the trembling naga formation.
I clanged my swords and Asha shouted, “Attack!”
The goblins and trolls unleashed their magic.
Fireballs blossomed, lighting up the night, while lightning arced
down, ice shards jutted up, and rocks hurled by geomancers were sped up
by air mages.
The full might of our magic crashed into blue shields that burst
under the assault. The spells tore into the enemy, different effects killing in
different ways.
I lunged into a sprint, pumping my boned legs.
I carved up two impaled nagas, ending their lives as they struggled
to free themselves. The cavalry charged forward turning to avoid the two
headed hydra. The enemy naga and watalocks routed, fleeing along the
shoreline and not risking the water.
With a full sprint, I jumped in a heroic arc. The two blades lanced
forward, aiming for the chest of the hydra. I heard the faintest of warnings
over the sound of the hydra screaming in pain.
My blades dove in with my feet splashing into hip high water. The
leviathan roared in pain, and I yanked both swords out.
The hydra spun, giving me a nice opening on the side of the torso. I
jabbed both blades in, buried my feet into the mucky lake’s bottom, and let
the hydra’s panic work to aid its own death.
Huge rents opened into the side of the beast as it spun. The hydra
never completed its turn. Either my first stabs had hit something vital or the
spilling guts became too much to overcome.
I ripped my blades free, pumping my arms into the air in victory.
I turned to see the naga and the watalocks being cut down, the
cavalry showing no mercy. When I glanced back at the hydra, I saw the
colorful orb.
“We won,” I shouted, but nothing came out.
I clanged my swords.
Yea… not a great idea.
The surface of the water boiled. A second later, five large wakes
sped for the shore, and I gulped.
Shit.
Splash!
A five headed hydra that was bigger than a cyclops reared with a
maternal anger. I spun, trying to flee. Once second my skeletal legs fought
water, the next, a blackness confused me.
At first I thought I had died. Then, I felt my skull being crushed as I
went down a slimy throat in complete darkness.
You know those movies, the ones where the dashing hero gets
swallowed and he cuts himself free?
Utter bullshit.
I couldn’t move my arms because the compression of the throat was
too tight.
An eternity later, I splashed into a pit of literal acid, the bone
structure of Arcini melting slowly. The stomach tightened, confining me. I
knew it was only the skeleton dying, but the memory of his death was as
terrifying as it was fascinating.
My kicks, bites, screams, and efforts to survive did zero damage
inside the momma hydras stomach.
When Arcini died, my third eye snapped back across the village,
through the pines, and into the carriage.
Arcini Trollkin has died beyond chance of recovery. Find the
location of his death to recover 19.411 Zorta. Penalty one hundred
mana. You have hit 0 mana. Mana exhaustion initiated for one hour
and seventeen minutes. You have one hour to rebuild your minions.
You may use Zorta to restore your mana.
I groaned, hating life, then quickly navigated my options.
Consume .14 Zorta to recover 128 mana. -93 owed + 35 to full
recovery. (YES) - (NO)
I sat upright in shock, shuddering as I recalled the ordeal.
Collecting myself with the knowledge that wasn’t really me, I
exited the carriage. Tied to the carriage, my ram waited with his saddle
already attached. I hopped onto his back, spurring him forward to head for
the naga village.
The trip through the pines was peaceful, and I let the short journey
clear my angst of the minion’s death. Arcini was my biggest fighter to this
point. I simply would have a hard time replacing him, and that saddened
me.
The history books might call this a victory, but to me, it felt
pyrrhic.
I arrived in the clearing, seeing the bodies of the dead naga and
watalocks being piled in neat rows. The two headed hydra lay at the lake’s
edge, its orb gone.
I tried to see my minion’s orb, but it didn’t float at the lake’s
surface. I sure as hell wasn’t diving into the water to try to find the twenty
Zorta I had lost. Clearly, I was happy the momma hydra had retreated
instead of coming onto the shore.
Jark walked over solemnly. “Sorry, I should have noticed they were
feeding the lake. I just thought they were ditching old fish.”
“No, you did well. Don’t doubt yourself,” I said, and he nodded.
Asha, Bell, Tarla, Nee, and Yermica joined us.
“I lost the chieftain,” I said sadly. “Twenty Zorta gone.”
“The baby hydra was fifteen, and these will make up for most of
it,” Tarla said, trying to be positive. “I had to consume the hydra, though,
not going anywhere near that water line.”
“Fair. Bell, grab all these orbs. I’m going to raise two naga to fill
my roster,” I said.
I spurred my ram to find a large, intact naga. I saw the male I cut in
half one over, deciding to go for his corpse instead.
Closing my eyes, I found my center, meditating to ready my spirit
for cultivating.
“You know you can level your cultivation by harvesting Zorta from
the soil?” Fero asked, breaking my concentration.
“Huh?” I blurted, opening my eyes to gaze down at him with a
raised brow.
“It’s miniscule gains, but you can cultivate Zorta from the land.
That is how the non-magical using animals live so long and some grow so
big. Their internal souls harvest the magic from around them. The hydra, a
non-magical being, will hide under the depth, continuing to amass Zorta
and becoming a greater and greater prize,” Fero told me.
“Are you saying a squirrel can become the size of a cow?” I asked.
“Over centuries and centuries, yes. But think about it. The slow
growth makes the larger ones a bigger target. For you or me, the gains are
less than the cost of aging is, forcing us to venture out and find giant
squirrels. Are you following?” he asked.
“Hmm… Example, I’m .003 Z short of an upgrade, I can meditate
and consume Z from the land?” I asked, trying to surmise the lesson.
“Zorta, not Z. Also, not in a city where the area has been meditated
to zero, but yes. Again, another mechanic to get you to exit the cities and
enter dangerous areas. Consuming from the land is partially how I stayed
alive so long. Forgive my transgression and please continue growing your
strength,” Fero said politely.
I frowned. He was a very knowledgeable goblin. Almost too smart.
I added him to my suspicious list. He walked away, heading into the pines.
I closed my eyes again, focusing on my meditation. My cultivation
seeped out, finding the aura Fero mentioned. I tried to pull it into me and
felt the tiniest of trickles aiming my direction. The sliver of gains still
dribbled from miles away and their snail-like pace meant I’d have to focus
for hours to see anything come in.
A part of me became fascinated while another part was surprised I
had figured out a way to pull from the land as if naturally. If I could add
even .001 Zorta a day that would benefit my return home, and when we
added the army doing so, the number would be significant.
Smiling, I shifted my focus and reached out to the dead naga, the
orb instantly succumbing to my high cultivation. I selected claim.
Claiming Hessi Nagakin as a minion will result in you earning
Ostriva points. Do you wish to proceed? (YES) - (NO)
I selected yes.
You selected to claim Hessi Nagakin. Consume 1.147 Zorta to
summon this creature as a minion of the undead. Confirm (YES) (NO)
After I confirmed, the hands of the ghouls raced up as if extra
hungry because of the full moon. I didn’t even mind watching this time,
merely deciding to focus on the flesh. The minion completed its
transformation into a skeleton, the lower half connecting to the top half with
a loud pop.
“Can the hydras enter the river?” I asked the skeleton naga.
The naga shook its head no.
“Can anything in the river kill you?” I asked.
A shrug.
“If I sent you to the river to collect fish, will you likely die?” I
asked.
A head shake no.
“Do you want a watalock for a fishing companion or a naga?” I
asked.
The torso spun, pointing to the largest of the nagas. I nodded, going
through the process of converting the dead naga into a minion.
When both stood before me, I ordered, “Fish the river, using the
donkey skeleton as your pack mule. When the sun starts to rise, race to
catch up to where we camp for the day. Hopefully, you can balance out our
losses.”
The naga slithered over to tridents in the loot pile before entering
the water.
I had to trust they’d do a good job. We certainly needed the Zorta.
Bell, Asha, Jark, and Tarla hurried up to collect the rest of our
gains. The goblins shifted through the rubble, looting the village until it was
picked clean. I found my ram and retreated to the main camp with most of
my army following.
I prepared our group while waiting for the rest of our forces to
return. We had another long march ahead of us.
CHAPTER 32
Seqa Foothills
Mana exhaustion washed over me until I collapsed on the bench of
the wagon, vomiting on Tarla’s boots.
“Mother of mercy,” I muttered, swooning as I tried to correct my
fall.
Lumpy has died. Penalty one hundred mana. You have hit 0
mana. Mana exhaustion initiated for two hour and forty-seven minutes.
You have one hour to rebuild your minion. You may use Zorta to
restore your mana.
Consume .10 Zorta to recover 100 mana. -65 owed + 35 to full
recovery. (YES) - (NO)
I rapidly selected yes.
“Find me Lumpy,” I shouted in rage to my tribe.
Tarla lifted my chin, wiping away my slobber. She stared down at
me with concern. “I swear, my dear Damien. You’ll be nothing but bones if
you don’t focus on getting your mana over a hundred.”
“Right, I need to start having a goblin cut themselves and heal
them. Healing upgrades are still affordable,” I grumbled.
It was two days after the naga fight, and our travel had been
reduced to a horribly slow pace. We couldn’t find paths wide enough for
our wagons. We had to start sawing trees to create a path, and I grew so
frustrated I turned us north, directly up the mountain and out of the valley.
The progress was so slow, we created night and day shifts to never stop the
caravan.
Currently, we were paused at a section of pines. Goblins used rams
to pull down what wasn’t being cut. A few trees burned up ahead, the fire
mages weakening the base of trunks. Dozens of goblins yanked ropes,
dragging logs out of the way.
Every book I had ever read always lied to me. There weren't any
lovely roads in the forest, and in this case, we had to build one ourselves.
I stood, scanning for where Lumpy died. I didn’t get a big green
arrow for where he was and my interface didn’t provide any directions. I
could feel him, though, in an odd sense. I felt his tug guiding me to his
corpse to the south.
“Is he revivable?” Bell asked, bringing Charlie over.
“Yeah, for now,” I said, recovering to sit upright. Tarla handed me a
water skin. I swished out the nasty taste in my mouth, spitting it out a
moment later. “None of the hounds died or anyone else, so I’m -”
“Surrendered trolls are coming,” Yermica cried out.
“Be ready,” I shouted, racing to grab a crossbow from the carriage.
I never made it inside, Asha waving me down. “Hey Boss, they’re
here to talk terms with you,” Asha said.
“I’m not in the talking mood until I see Lumpy,” I said, getting
defensive.
“He killed a troll before being disabled, and they don’t have a
healer,” Asha said.
I frowned and asked, “How do you know this?”
He waved a spyglass at me.
“Nice purchase. Alright, how many trolls? And should I just send
you?” I asked.
“Half a dozen, and they were sent to investigate the fires,” Asha
said, gesturing to the smoke stacks to the north.
“What’s the play here?” I asked.
“They surrendered when the cerberus surrounded them with the
nagas. We can kill them, release them, maybe absorb them, and likely trade
with their village, or raid it,” Asha said.
The sinister smirk I expected appeared in a spreading fashion.
I shook my head with a chuckle, knowing the elva was turning to a
darker side. I think he enjoyed having an army in the field. His people never
left their den to fight and exploit the wonders of Nordan.
“Well, best go scouting,” I said.
“Don’t bother,” Yermica said, seeing the trolls approaching. “These
are Arcini’s uncle’s trolls. Kill the males and bond the females until they’re
bred. Or kill them all. The village they come from has thousands of troops.
Unless you can convert a few hundred dead, they’ll swarm us.”
“And we don’t want to be worried about those thousands of
troops?” I asked with worry.
Yermica rode her ram closer and said, “You’re a strivian, Boss.
Raid a bigger foe if you think you can win. However, letting these trolls go
will not help. A second group will be sent, same size as the first. The third
will be an army. Capture the first two, grow your power.”
Tarla came over to my side, wrapping an arm into my left elbow.
The fiery redhead gazed up at me lovingly, and I kissed her forehead. Her
mere presence lifted my spirit.
“The troll mistress speaks wisdom. We could use the power,” Tarla
said.
Yermica nodded in a respectful manner.
“And the army that may arrive?” I asked.
“Normally, this is how most trolls are returned to the fold. The
expelled underling clashes with the old leader and the defeated faction
rejoins the main village. Arcini was different. He conquered me by killing
me with a fireball during a scouting raid.
“My group was trying to find a fishing crew that went missing. I
was revived and bound until I became with child,” Yermica said as if this
were natural and normal. “Arcini may have been fat, but he was no fool.
Most trolls are too proud to flee, but not him. He only fought you because
he never expected to lose.”
I saw my Jark disarming the captured six. Nee carried Lumpy in
her arms, and a naga carried a dead troll.
“May I have a private word, Boss Damien?” Yermica asked.
I stepped over to a different section of pines far enough away for
her to speak in private. Tarla followed me, and Yermica didn’t object.
“I’m with child,” she said.
Tarla gasped, quickly reining in her emotions. “By the gods.”
“Uh… that is common, right?” I asked.
Her yellow eyes clashed against her green skin, and yet again I was
reminded that the trolls weren’t hideous beings. Different, yes. Odd,
certainly. But beautiful in their own way. To me, she looked like a green
skinned elva, and I didn’t fault Then it hit me.
“Asha?” I hissed.
She nodded.
“Is that possible?”
The troll female shrugged and said, “We certainly are trying as
much as you and...” she paused, likely trying to find a good title for Tarla.
“Our Chieftress.”
“Lady Tarla for now,” Tarla said, rising to her tippy toes to kiss my
cheek.
“Well, good for you. I have to wonder if you're with child from
before, but it’s an easy enough test. We confine a male and a female
cerberus that I’ll have revived,” I said with a sigh. Another thing added to
the to-do list. “Why tell me this now?”
“Your face showed pain at the thought of me being bound and
dominated. I’m a strong troll. Fierce. I produce healthy trolls, and - and yes, I would have preferred to have the option. If you become too nice,
you’ll lose respect,” Yermica warned, thumbing the prisoners who waited.
“I mentioned this because I’d like to see your minion army improve. You
still have goblins that are inferior as warriors. Remove the goblins, kill the
males, and then turn them into live minions.”
“Death is not something I fully relish in yet. And I’d like to keep it
that way. Can I spare the males? Convince them to stay somehow?” I
asked.
“Yes and no with an ‘it depends’. However, Jeen isn’t bonded. Let
me get her as an offering,” Yermica said.
“What? This conversation is confusing me,” I grumbled. “I thought
you wanted your kind to have freedom of choice?”
“Do you want to kill the males or reward them for changing their
allegiance? There aren’t many other options,” Yermica told me, and I hung
my head. Being a strivian lord sure was a pain sometimes.
A lot of these inner workings with strivian society reminded me of
those choose your own adventure books. I had to pick, the options were
limited, and the end results weren’t too varied unless I picked wrong
enough times and ended up dead.
That was the key thing at the moment. I could still feel my
heartbeat.
I set a hand on Yermica’s shoulder. “Do I need to set the example?”
I asked.
“No, I’ll extend the offer, but I expect them to refuse. A small troll
is still a few Zorta. I do recommend you run when the army nears,” she
said, and I shooed her away to perform the grizzly deed.
Tarla said, “If only it were simple. It will be interesting to see how
they react. I can only hope we find the spider queens with folks we can
rescue who will help rule this growing rabble.”
“I’d be lost without you, my dear. I see you and Bell have become
friends again,” I said, smiling down at her.
“Yes, she longs for you in a different way. I hate not being at your
side. She seeks your favor just not in the way a lover would. I think it
frustrates her that her magic is so reliant on others,” Tarla said, pinching my
butt.
“Well, invite her to study in the carriage with us,” I said, and Tarla
nodded. “It’s not like we haven’t allowed her to be close before. Alright,
Lumpy needs us, moving onto the next problem.”
I waved Nee over with Lumpy. I set a hand onto the random
collection of his bones.
Warning 51 minutes until Minion Lumpy rebuild is forever
inaccessible. Warning 87 mana is required to rebuild Minion
Serriavian. You have 35 mana available. Zorta will be required to
reassemble Minion Serriavian. Cost 52 Zorta. Revive (YES) - (NO)
I checked my Zorta level.
Zorta: 82.129
One step forward, two steps back. I almost accepted yes when I had
a flashback of Asha being revived.
“Get me a beast master and a beast healer,” I ordered Nee.
While I waited, I watched Yermica drag over an uglier troll lady.
What I expected didn't happen. Jeen was not paraded for the males. The
males were brought before her and forced to kneel.
The first male scoffed, calling her an ugly bitch. I winched, and
well, he received a dagger into his eye socket. I shook my head at his
audacity, watching the body crash down.
The next male kissed each of Jeen’s feet.
The final male raced to his knees and kissed a female’s feet down
the line.
Yermica cheered, and just like that, we added five trolls to the tribe.
Asha cultivated the orb, bringing it over.
“Boss, don’t use her for the next group. Let a different troll do the
initiation rites,” Asha said, and I rolled my eyes. “Trust me.”
“Clearly, I do,” I said.
“I should be asserting myself more,” Tarla said, and Asha nodded.
“I have to grow and develop into my role more too. I can’t be the meek
young woman. Will you judge me, lover of mine?”
I pulled her in tight, wanting to kiss her but avoiding doing so
because of my recent vomiting. My arms wrapped her tightly, and I sighed
contently. I’d never been in a relationship before, but at that moment, I
could never imagine being so lonely again.
“I’ll support you however you need me to, and I’ll apologize in
advance for bringing out your darker side to rule these strivians. We will
adapt and overcome. Together,” I said, watching a team of goblins chop up
the dead troll's body.
They’d use his corpse to set traps, feed dogs, and for whatever
other uses they found. Which reminded me that I had half a fish left to eat.
The naga returned with more fish than the donkey could haul, and we had to
send a team of rams back and forth.
Fish, so many fish.
Nee arrived with two goblins, both cowering as if I were going to
punish them.
“Can either of you revive these bones?” I asked.
“No,” the left goblin said.
“Yes,” the female goblin animal healer said. “It will consume my
once a week revival.”
“Once a week?” I asked.
“If I upgrade enough, it will go down,” she said meekly. I nodded
in approval for her to revive Lumpy. She hesitated and added, “Umm… The
magic will explode.”
“Right, right, thanks for the warning. Give her the troll’s Z,” I
ordered Asha.
He glanced at me like I was crazy.
“I want it known that I reward those who please me. Give her the Z.
She’ll explode less if we invest in her. And if Lumpy dies again, I need her
cooldown lowered,” I said.
He nodded.
The little female clapped, showing a lot of personality with her
bouncing brows. “Any other way I can please the Boss for more power?”
she asked.
“Erm… No. No thank you. That department is filled, and I would
go on a rampage if something happened to Tarla. If anything, just help like
you’re doing now,” I said encouragingly, hoping my rejection wouldn’t sour
the goblin’s positive attitude.
Asha, Tarla, and I stepped back, awaiting her spell. The heavens
didn’t split. Instead, the bark of trees whisked through the air, transforming
into dust as they traveled.
The dust crashed down into Lumpy, reforming his bones in a brown
billowing haze. Eventually, I couldn’t see my skeleton friend as he was
rebuilt. A resounding boom split the air.
We were pushed back, and the female goblin lay among the pine
needles, holding an arm broken at an odd angle.
“We need a healer,” I shouted.
Asha elbowed me, “You’re up, Boss.”
I closed my eyes and tilted my head back. “Unbelievable. I need
some sleep. Heal other,” I said, ejecting vines of green healing magic from
my palm towards her arm, knitting the break until smooth skin remained.
When I glanced back to Lumpy, I cursed a second time.
“Right, should have seen that coming,” I grumbled, seeing Lumpy
as a jenix cat, not a skeleton. I kneeled down to our best hunter and said,
“Do you want a day off to spend with Bell?”
Lumpy didn’t answer, shooting off to find Bell. A minute later, I
heard my priestess squeal in delight.
“Odd turn of events,” Asha muttered.
“Yes, well, this is Nordan with a chunk of Ostriva, after all. Expect
the unexpected, although I should have expected that one. Another lesson
learned. I’m going to oversee the push north. We really need to get moving.
Can you manage the second scout party?”
“Depends. I’ll need a live troll to help convert those we capture and
likely the cerberus pack. Oh, and the nagas since they’re not fishing at the
moment,” he said.
“Done. I’ll be with Quon, yanking down trees. The bear is powerful
but lazy. Time to get his butt into the war effort. We need to make fast
progress to avoid an army,” I said, and he winced. “What?”
“They’ll have cavalry, likely. Not a whole unit, but they may harass
and fire bows from a distance, especially if we get into the open,” Asha
said.
I nodded, knowing we didn’t have a choice. If we had to manage
skirmish fights as we pushed north, so be it. I didn’t want the fight, but if
they over extended, I’d certainly give them one.
I put a smile on my face, happy with the turn of events. We only
had a few more miles of pines to go until we reached the sloping
mountainous terrain that opened up before leading to the Seqa Valley.
CHAPTER 33
Seqa Hills
The gritty terrain crunched under my boots from my steep climb up
the rocky slope. I arrived on the hill’s peak, coming up beside Asha and
accepting his proffered spyglass. We stared down at a river that was at least
four roads wide and flowing at a quick pace.
An island rested in the middle of the river, not too far uphill. The
dark blue water had a chilling effect, and its width, as well as speed, spoke
of deep trenches. A skeleton naga arrived, missing an arm, water dripping
off its bony frame.
I connected to my minion with barely a thought, the process
becoming second nature.
Minion: Hessi Nagakin
Health 5/12. Level 1.
Sapient Naga.
Memories intact.
Fighting Abilities: Moderate.
Upgrade Available. Consume 15 mana and 1.2 Zorta (YES) or
(NO)
Repair Required. Consume 13 mana (YES) or (NO)
I selected ‘yes’ to both, finding the Naga worth both the mana and
the investment, especially with our latest discovery. A team of trolls
dragged a crab the size of a horse across the rocky, gray terrain.
I watched the dead creature with interest. However, a distraction
caught my attention as the minion’s arm shot out of the water, zooming
across the sky. The lost limb reconnected to the body, and the minion
crumbled a moment later.
The black, smoky magic filled the bones, improving their density.
The bulging magic started a rhythmic clattering dance. The process
finished, and my minion grew by at least an inch.
“Wise choice,” Asha said, accepting the spyglass back.
“This is what? The seventh one we’ve found on this river so far?” I
asked.
With everyone working and none allowed to sleep, we blazed a trail
out of the foothills and onto the open, mountainous terrain. I constantly
glanced behind us, but so far, no new threat hounded us.
Bell arrived with a smile, removing gloves that fought the brisk
morning chill. The higher elevation and the early start of the shifting season
gave credence to the idea that we would need warmer attire sooner rather
than later.
“Eighth. Worth ten Z each. They’re a great find, and these gloves
led to my request,” Bell said, wagging her gloves at me. “The goblins live
in a jungle, and the trolls always have a fire. We haven’t made it to the
valley yet, but if we get caught in a snowstorm, we’ll have sections of our
tribe flee south when they can.”
I scoffed, folding my arms. “We’re growing faster than we can
manage. Losing a few is probably acceptable. Not saying that I don’t want
winter gear, though. Snow sucks.”
She grinned, bending down to pet a fluffy Jenix. “We left the
dwarves a week ago, and we’re already back to seven hundred Zorta in the
treasury. You sure you want to become a weaker horde leader?” Bell teased.
“Damn, I stand corrected, bring them on,” I said, seeing Lumpy eye
me with boredom.
The Jenix followed his momma around everywhere, and now
Quon, the bear, had become another follower of the priestess. “Hey, you
sure you don’t have a second hidden magic?” I asked.
Bell leaned into the big bear’s brown fur when he laid down beside
her. She bound her lengthening, brown hair into a ponytail, eyeing me with
a smirk.
“It’s an odd mountain chill, surely to pass,” Asha said. “Summer
will return well before we arrive in the lush valley to the north. With that
said, it will get colder and colder over the next month. What were you
wanting to suggest, Priestess Bell?”
“Ah, a trade run.” She pointed to a section of trees to the north. “I
know that’s a small grove, but we can harvest those, build a bridge, and
camp on that island for a week. Three-day trip to Zozo Hold and three days
back. These falzien crabs have a shell that is very versatile in its uses. We
take it and trade for more weapons, shields, crossbows, and blankets. Even
if we find a nice cave in the valley, there’s going to be a baby boom, and we
don’t have enough space for mothers to nurse as we march.”
I frowned, eyeing the island.
I could see what Bell was recommending. The plan on paper made
sense. Defensible spot, hard-ish to assault, a nice place to build a village.
Settling down there would keep trading close to the dwarves. There would
be no more traveling, and we could start to establish a base here and now.
For some reason, I wasn’t a fan of the idea. The concept wasn’t the
worst but building a base this out in the open just felt... off.
Tarla arrived, dealing with goblin issues. She had missed what Bell
had said by a few seconds.
“Give me a second, Bell. There’s a part of me that also wants to
stick down roots and establish a home. But… it’s like we’re missing
something. Hey, Tarla, how did the tribe managing go?” I asked.
“That second troll party never showed, but another thirty or so
goblins straggled in from all directions. They’re eager to go north,” Tarla
said.
“Any reason why?” I asked.
“Umm… no, not really. They joined because goblins give off a
happy scent apparently, but I honestly find that hard to believe,” Tarla said.
“It is true,” Nee said, not adding more to her statement.
It certainly would explain why they were flocking to us.
“And the reason for going north?” I asked.
“That Fero goblin said there was a great danger nearing and the
Seqa Valley would be a haven for us to consolidate our power and build a
base,” Tarla said. I went to ask to have him summoned, but Tarla shook her
head. “I turned to answer a question from another goblin, and when I went
to ask him what he meant, he was gone. As in he’s not in our camp at all
anymore. Even took the hounds out to find him. Literally poof, gone.”
This allowed my theories to reach a tipping point.
“He’s a god, I think,” I muttered, coming to a decision.
“Surely you jest,” Bell said.
“No, I bet he is Zozo,” I said with a huff. “Think about it. Super
wise goblin comes along, about ten times smarter than the others, and he
helps in small doses, vanishing after. If we set up a mine, it helps his
champion, and if we die, it hurts her. I have a feeling he is a much more
powerful god than Caitlyn.”
“Wait, they have different power levels?” Asha asked.
I sighed with an uncertainty. “Just a guess. Caitlyn made it seem
like she had to have a champion, as if it were an inconvenience. Add to that
the fact that she needs Zorta. What does that say? It tells me the gods are
using us because they have to.”
“You think we’re part of something bigger?” Tarla asked.
“Now that I don’t know. Right now, I’m focused on surviving.
There is no great dragon to kill that will right the world, or some spell to
unlock, to restore the planets back the way they were. I do know we have a
threat approaching, and we just received a tip to kick it into high gear. Also,
Nee isn’t dumb, but she doesn’t know about hidden magics, nor is she
guiding us to stop me from probably enforcing Nordan policies on a
Strivian tribe. Now she is telling us to speed north.”
“What are your orders then?” Bell asked with a frown.
“All my life, I’ve taken orders, and now these decisions rest on
me.” I tossed my hands on my hips, posing regally. Tarla rolled her eyes,
gazing at me in joy. “To start, break camp. We march north at a hard pace
with only three-hour rests. Rotate wagon riding so the tribe gets short naps
and breaks. Cut back on hunting, increase our scouting, and we try to stop
for nothing.”
“And the river or trading?” Bell asked. “Kinda thought you were
going to go silly there with that pose.”
“Yeah, sorry, I pictured one thing and realized the reality was
another. The trade run will have to wait. The river farming will have to wait
too. We don’t slow for anything until we find this mine,” I said.
“The start of fall is mating season for the ogres. That is part of
where this is coming from,” Asha said. “We were talking and planning to
see if you’d wait until winter to venture north. That island will make a nice
spot for a village.”
“And if we can build quick bridges, so can our foes. No, we heed
the signals. Full speed to the north, and we fight through roaming ogres. As
they fall, I’ll pick them up. Speaking of which, probably best for me to stay
in heavy armor again since I lack any massive minion to control,” I said.
I trotted down the hill, not giving them time to quibble or debate
my orders further. Spread out among the rocky terrain, the goblins and trolls
rested around the caravan. I headed for the carriage resting in the middle,
seeing a lot of the tribe notice my brisk pace.
Many understood we would be leaving soon and started to prepare
for what was coming.
I didn’t need to holler at my troops. The unit leaders did that for
me. After entering the carriage, I found a comfy spot and pulled out the bag
filled with books from a side compartment.
Bell entered a minute later, taking a seat across from me. I glanced
up, expecting her to come in ready to argue. Instead, she held out a hand for
a book.
I flipped through the selection, finding a book on necromancy to set
into my lap. I handed her a book about the monsters below the surface.
The snap of reins preceded a sharp jerk of the carriage, sending us
into a jostle. I slid the window open, peering out to see Tarla on Quon’s
back, commanding the goblins to get moving.
“Fine, I’ll go first,” Bell said, her tone agitated.
“Ah, the married couple routine,” I said, raising my eyes from the
book I had just opened.
“We need winter supplies,” she said, ignoring my jab.
“Yes, my Priestess, we do. However, we need a home first. Want to
know my theory?” I asked, returning to glance back down at the book. “The
centaurs have spread the word. The trolls know I may be a champion and
never sent a second patrol because their army is marching hard to catch us.”
“But we should know that,” Bell said.
“And if they’re racing to the valley to beat us, or sailing upriver.” I
paused not finishing the sentence. “Anyway, I need a damn bird as a
minion,” I said with a sigh. I whispered, “Lumpy, fetch me a bird, any kind
will do.”
The cat heard my command from wherever he was.
“We move as one without a wagon splintering for trade. The crab
shells will be abandoned, and I can accept that because I can’t afford to lose
you. The second we turn the mines into a home, we will build our goddess a
temple. And, Bell, there are things we can do ourselves. We have the
supplies to turn our hides into blankets, and we can get those pregnant
goblins in the carts with the pups to make you some,” I said.
She pursed her lips, biting back a retort.
I stared down at the book, flipping to the section on leveling stats.
“Interesting. This dwarven necromancer was different,” I muttered,
reading her what the journey had notated.
Necromancer Level 1 -} Free = 1 minion
Necromancer Level 2 -} 10 Zorta = 5 minions
Necromancer Level 3 -} 100 Zorta = 10 minions
Necromancer Level 4 -} 1000 Zorta = 100 minions
Necromancer Level 5 -} 5000 Zorta = 1000 minions
Necromancer Level 6 -} 25000 Zorta = Unknown.
“You’re a champion,” Bell said as if to conclude the rationalization
as to why my minion counts were different. I scrunched my face, and she
continued, “Remember that book on gods and their champion?”
“Yeah, I gave it to the nice minotaur librarian,” I said, not sure
where she was going with her train of thought.
“Champions have unique subsets of spells and boons. You can heal
from afar while most have to unlock that at level twenty as a healer,” Bell
said, and I raised a brow.
“Hold up. I read that book three times. All it said was that each
champion is unique, created as a magus above common mages. Honestly, I
just assumed a magus and a mage were the same thing,” I said with a huff.
“Yes, a mage and magus are the same on Earth. They just originate from
different parts of our world.”
“Not on Nordan. A magus is a superior mage. For example, I’m
called a mage. If I ever reach level fifty, I’d earn the title of magus. Now,
you can’t be calling yourself a healing magus because it will give you away,
but you certainly are one. A few things,” Bell said, ensuring she had my
attention. “Remember when you made the rams bow, healed all your
minions at once, or healed the female goblin’s arm from over a hundred
feet?”
“Yeah, just tried to do them and they happened,” I admitted. “There
wasn’t some grand scheme to those discoveries.”
“When I studied to become a high priestess, I borrowed a book on
the correlation of the divine’s proxy and their champion. I learned that a
champion is a magus at a mage level with a mage’s understanding. As you
grow and learn, you become more powerful than a general mage. And,
come on, you're the selection of the divine—you should get two magics and
have unique unlocks,” Bell said. “A head priestess gets her own boons too.”
“Um… so what else can I do? I don’t even know what I did to the
rams,” I said.
“You invoked fear into them. That paladin was right. You literally
cast a demonic spell,” Bell said.
“Still a human,” I grumbled.
She reached forward, patted my knee in a friendly manner and said,
“Yes, yes you are. Now, how about you keep reading that book because I
don’t know squat about that stuff? A dwarf grumbled what the spell was,
and I doubt that you need to be level fifty to start hitting unlocks. If you get
more minions, that’s great.”
“The book is basic so far. I think the author was lacking experience,
and the king had him level to see what happened,” I said.
“Someone has to go first,” Bell mentioned.
The wagon rolled to a stop, and Tarla entered quickly.
“Jark’s driving, and the caravan is on the move. They were told not
to stop and to rotate sleep. You’re going to hear…” The sound of feet on the
roof told me part of her plan. Every space where the goblins could sleep
was being occupied. “That. And I’m opening up the interior to adults in a
few minutes. This will be a sleeping zone, not your luxury private quarters.
Sorry,” Tarla said with a wince.
“Ah, no, it's what I want. I’m not Arcini where I get fat while the
commoners toil. We’re in this together. Let me thumb a few more pages,
and then I’ll start marching. I’m thinking I’ll unlock at least a hundred fifty
minions at the next stage,” I said, flipping the page.
Necromancer Level 5 unlock -} No mana exhaustion upon the
death of a minion.
I flashed the page to Tarla and then to Bell.
“Thank Caitlyn,” the two almost said in unison.
“See, this magus mage stuff confuses me. Why doesn't it apply
now?” I asked.
Bell shrugged. I gave an exacerbated sigh, continuing to turn the
pages and not finding much of merit. The author didn’t mention chain
healing or using fear. The guide helped a little. It certainly was more
information than I had before.
I stuffed the book into the bag, pulling out a thick book on healing.
“I guess I’ll sit up front and force Jark to walk,” I said, hefting the
book onto my lap. The wagon started to slow, and I hollered, “Keep going
for now.”
Not opening the book, I closed my eyes and went into my upgrade
sheet, seeing that I once again had a few stats ready for a Zorta infusion
before they improved. The big one was healer. It had jumped from the last
few battles, able to go to seven for a forty Zorta cost. I accepted the upgrade
and checked my stats.
Name: Damien Moonguard
Race: Human
Affiliation: Ostriva
Zorta: 107.129
Nordan Score: 236,000
Ostriva Score: 347,400
Location: Seqa Hills
Magic Type: Healer
Healer Level: 7
Magic Type 2: Necromancer
Necromancy Level: 3
Necromancer Minions: 15/15
Fighting Level: Pathetic Plus
Mana: 35/50
Mana Recharge: 6
Strength: 8
Stamina: 7
Dexterity: 6
Constitution: 9
Willpower: 8
Cultivation: 14
Intelligence: 30
Wisdom: 30
Charisma: 24
Tracking: 7
Endurance: 9
Perception: 13
Burst: 7
Reflex: 7
Healing: 7
Melee Combat: 6
Aim: 2
Hunger: 4
Thirst: 2
Aging: 59 years until death.
“I finally feel like I’m really improving. Also, I’ve been a bit
selfish lately, randomly ingesting orbs from the hunting teams,” I said.
“Yes, the key players have. We still are earning a lot too. I figure in
another week we’ll have you at Necromancer four, and then it’s Tarla at fire
mage eleven,” Bell said.
Made sense to rotate the big upgrades. Five thousand Z for
Necromancer five seemed silly. Best to just get to four and then collect the
ten thousand to go home.
“Four hundred for that one. When I hit fifteen, I can cast a circle of
fire around me while bending it inward to form a shield against most magic
types,” Tarla said proudly. “The minions make it all possible, though.
Having an army of those will make a world of difference.”
“Well, we need a base, and I’m sick of not having a bed or a room.
I just have to hope that this mine had dwarves living in it,” I said. “Alright,
Jark, slow the wagon. I need to learn about being a healer. I sure hope this
book has something worth the effort inside it.”
CHAPTER 34
Seqa Valley
I learned a skeleton dove couldn’t fly. Shocker. For whatever
reason, I had missed the simple thought process that a skeleton dragon
should be able to fly. Just because the great necromancer lords in the
movies flew dragons of bones… well, that was magic. In reality, there were
no wings to create lift.
When I had the dove restored by a beast master, I couldn’t control
the minion because it was alive. Instead, I abandoned the idea and sent a
cerberus hound south to see for myself what the enemy was up to.
I currently controlled the animal, waiting near the tree line. I
watched over the exit point for the valley, seeing the road we had created
for our escape from the pines.
Mingled in the forest, the centaurs and trolls were here, and I was
seeing the vanguard watching me intently. Deep in the valley, thousands of
rising smoke trails told me the large army had amassed only far closer than
I ever expected.
The centaurs moved at the speed of a herd of horses, and we had
only just crested into the valley.
I ordered the cerberus to return, having seen enough. Without a
doubt, we’d have died if we had settled on the island.
Any internal hope that the enemy would figure my pursuit was a
foolish notion was lost. The centaurs were coming, and us capturing that
scouting party of trolls gave them a clear path to follow.
When I returned to my body, I tapped on the driver side wall so I
could leave the interior of the carriage. After three hard days of marching,
we had at last found the new area that I wanted to call home.
Jark stopped the carriage, allowing me to exit into a different kind
of forest. The first falling leaves crunched under my heavy and awkward
steps. The river ran off our right, and at that part in the road, I could hear
the water.
Bright sunlight crashed through a canopy created by hemlocks and
white spruce trees. The underbrush was thick, and I thanked the heavens the
old dwarven road was only partially overgrown.
The forest colorations were akin to something on Earth, and tree
height made me feel better than being in the wild jungles from Ostriva. A
squirrel jumped an upper branch, birds chirped, and the crash of bushes
revealed a starving goblin with darker skin joining the caravan. I shook my
head, noting how unique their species was.
Lumpy trotted out of the woods, following the goblin’s path. The
wet jenix cat hauled a big fish, and I snickered. The hunting for small
creatures was about ten times better in this forest than in the valley. I
figured it was the lack of predators and that this section of land was mostly
untamed. I only saw minimal game trails cutting through the dense woods.
That and a whole lot of prey.
A stiff breeze carried the heavy scent of fresh forest that fought the
smell of our tribe needing baths.
Quon paused his staggered gait, seeing me waving him over. The
big bear lumbered closer and laid down for me to have easy access to his
saddle.
The task of moving my clunky armor proved difficult. When I
finished, I guided him over to the side of the road to adjust properly. We
watched the column of goblins, trolls, and minions pass us by.
I could only imagine the sight I made. A knight in dull armor atop a
bear mount.
I giggled at the notion, missing my mom. She… she would have
been so proud. Maybe, yeah, mom and dad would have doted on my
achievements even if I happened to be a goblin lord.
Asha rode his ram up to my side, asking, “The scout?”
“We need to find that mine, and if we weren’t already pushing so
damn hard, I’d increase the pace. At least we manage four-hour rotations.
While that is good, the bad news is that the centaurs are moving much faster
than we are,” I said with a grumble, scratching the scruff on my face.
Tarla had been running her fingers over my face. I was fairly
certain she had the hots for my beard, or maybe me. Either way, I could
bear with the itch if it made her happy. This relationship thing was much
better than I had expected it to be.
Asha cleared his throat, likely noticing me drifting. “That’s the easy
part. The mine is a day up this road. We’ll make it in time even if they
stampede. The hard part is that there’s an ogre village up ahead, though, and
we can’t avoid it because it’s literally on the road,” Asha told me.
I hung my head.
“How big? And can we avoid it if we ditch the wagons, skirting
into the woods?” I asked.
“Uh… likely not. They’ll smell us from a mile away and are likely
already tracking us,” he said.
“Can I challenge a leader?” I asked with concern. “Not that I want
to fight an ogre.”
“It is, and is not, how they work,” Asha said. “You can challenge
the leader, assuming they aren’t screaming for your blood. Which normally
they are, and they don’t listen to anything. If you did get them to pause, and
you won, then the next highest ogre will challenge you. That cycle will
continue forever because none of them will bend the knee willingly.
Especially since this first group is at least three adolescents.”
I nudged Quon forward. When I went to open my mouth, a war
drum reverberated through my very being. The smashing drum must have
been the size of a wagon and the striker far stronger than any mere human.
“That would be them, signaling the others they’ve got a fight and to
bugger off. Ogres are very territorial. If they ever consolidated, their power
would rival, if not crush, the minotaurs,” Asha said.
“Battle formations,” I shouted over the drum beat, urging Quon to
the front of the caravan.
I diverted toward the carriage, leaning over to steal a crossbow and
deciding not to grab the quality lance. Quon was too long, and I’d probably
just stab him if we got into a fight.
The mounted trolls rushed from behind, trailing the wagons to
arrange into two triangle formations.
Excellent. The practice has paid off, and it was executed smoothly.
I nodded in approval, seeing the rest of the caravan wake up. The
wagons halted, and the goblins hurried off the rolling vehicles, grabbing
shields and crossbows from bags.
“Ready for an attack. Spare nothing when the order is given. If you
must die, do so to help others live,” I yelled, hating that I even said those
words.
This was war.
I stuck myself in the very front.
I wore the thick armor of a knight, not caring that I sweated in the
gear and happy I had it on. At least the breeze helped with the infernal
contraptions. I couldn’t see the ogres yet, but I sure could hear that damn
thrum of the drum.
I glanced over my shoulder, seeing the goblins slow to form. Their
main issue was a lot of them had been sleeping. That and the pregnant
females struggled to get into the hastily crafted leather armor they had
created.
I snapped my fingers at the females. “Ditch the gear. Avoid
formations. I need you all to stay alive. Get into the woods. If you have an
ogre chasing you, run it away from others and hope the combined fire wins
the day.”
They nodded in approval, hurrying to carry out my commands.
Nee rode forward on a ram and said, “We’re good at running. I’ll
try to have the mounted goblins do the running.” She hesitated, eyeing me
with a mix of guile and determination. “Thanks for putting the ladies with
babies in the safer areas… it matters.”
Yermica arrived, rubbing sleep from her eyes. She hopped into a
saddle of a ram a goblin held in waiting for her. The warrior troll accepted a
crossbow and then a lance. Nee left to manage the goblins, and I headed
toward the cavalry formations with Yermica.
Militarily, we postured like a human army. Cavalry in front of
infantry that carried crossbows. The uniqueness of this fight from a
standard fantasy battle would be the magic. I hated and loved that mana
drained so fast on Nordan because who knew what spells the enemy would
have.
The lead carriage formed the backbone of our resistance, rolling
into the middle of the road. Tarla smiled down at me from her perch atop
the roof. Beside her, Jark and Bell readied to combo magic.
My minion hounds flanked my right. My troll and goblin skeletons
stood stoically on the left. The naga carried crossbows within the goblin
ranks.
Our forces were haphazardly organized at best with their gear and
weapons, but I still smiled with pride.
I wasn’t sure what to expect when the ogres arrived. I guess I had
an inkling they’d barter or make demands.
Instead, I saw five ogres dashing around a bend in the road. Even
from a distance, their towering height and thundering footfalls struck terror
into my heart. They charged full of ferocity with no care for a plan or need
for tactics.
Each ogre stood over twenty-feet high, carrying large stone bats.
How they shaped the stone, I had no idea, but those weapons would wreak
havoc on our soft bodies. The gray behemoths snarled, large tusks jutting
from roaring mouths.
Five unique faces ejected spittle as they constantly refreshed their
battle cries. Black war paint coated under their eyes, and leather kilts
protected thighs while even the females went bare chested.
“Hold! Let them come,” I bellowed.
They ran at a blistering speed, and it didn’t take a genius to realize
this fight was about to get ugly.
“Single fireball,” I ordered Nee.
She relayed my order to a smaller goblin. The mage spun their
hands, generating a fireball instantly, and zipping the streaking ball of
crimson and orange forward.
The weak spell created a cheer from among our troops, and I
cringed at the fallacy of the notion. This bit of magic wouldn’t win this
battle, not even close.
A blue wave of magic shot out from the back ogre, shielding the
leading ogre. The trailing female grinned, excited to prove useful.
“Again, and again, and again. Three attack spells in that spacing,” I
commanded.
The ogres were closing the distance with their long strides. I
doubted we’d have much time to react after the final spell.
A fireball zoomed across the distance. Behind it, a geomancer
hurled a sharp rock. And behind that, a lightning ball crackled. The lead
ogre never slowed, but the trailing ogre did. I saw panic on his face.
“Interesting,” I muttered. “That one realized they’re not fighting a
troll caravan that will accept them as rulers. They likely smelled the goblins
and trolls, figuring this would be a rollover and join us kind of fight,” Asha
said. “Permission to charge around for the rear?”
“Granted,” I said, on edge.
With an angst filled tension, I watched as the blue shielding fought
the next magic attack. A rock cracked through the shield, and the lightning
ball smashed into the torso of the ogre.
The spell only slightly slowed the large being. The magic washed
through the ogre who grunted, causing its face to twist into a whole new
level of anger.
“Magic, unleash everything we got! If the first ogre falls, down the
second. For Caitlyn!” I bellowed.
The lead ogre pulsed in size, growing with a gleeful grin as if
relishing that his magic would overcome the firepower of a hundred spells
zooming his direction.
My peripheral caught Asha charging through the trees, a small
cavalry unit following him for the female shielding mage.
The rear ogre skidded to a halt, turning as she foresaw the outcome
before the others.
I thought the other ogres expected the magical shielding to make
them invincible.
The barrage of magic burst forth, brightening the day to the point I
had to squint my eyes to avoid going blind.
What I saw was a mix of horrifying and euphoric.
The unleashed magic shot forth in a myriad of colors. Lightning
arced down, rocks zipped forth, pink slime gooped out, fireballs seared the
air, roots entwined feet, ice rained down, and golems of various types met
the enemy ahead of our battle lines.
The first body, even with its engorged size, exploded into bits. The
torrent of magic pushed, pulled, tore, burned, and eventually dismembered
the confident troll. For a fraction of a second, the ogre realized his shield
mage wasn’t there to save him. His eyes saddened as he realized he was
doomed.
The intense mage carried forward. The fireball from Tarla alone
was enough to burst through the first ogre and slam into the second. The
two lead ogres crashed to the ground, dying quickly with their bodies
sending tremors through the area.
Quon shook, the ground under him trembling. I pried my eyes fully
open and saw the first two ogres twitching, their bodies twisted on the road
in a gory mess.
The next two jumped over their fallen comrades, not faltering in
their charge. Something had to slow them, or our lines would be hit flatfooted.
“Cavalry forward!” I ordered, knowing there was going to be a
price to pay.
Quon raced forward, and I groaned. I didn’t have my lance on me,
but I aimed the crossbow with each jostling step.
Snap!
The bolt erupted out of the weapon, sinking into the chest of the
ogre we charged. I had hoped for a kill shot or something, but nope. The
ogre didn’t even flinch.
The bear bounded ahead of the rams, rearing up at the perfect
moment to halt the enemy’s charge.
Because I still clutched the crossbow, instead of throwing it aside, I
fell out of the saddle, unable to hold on. My fall left me flailing, but that
was better than it would have been if I had stayed on the bear’s back.
The ogre ditched its weapon and tackled Quon in a mighty lunge.
Smash!
The wind left my lungs from the fall. I tried to yank my blade free
but struggled to breathe.
The bear and the ogre lifted off the road, soaring over me. I rolled
out from under the following ogre’s charge. A sweeping stone club crashed
into the troll cavalry, ejecting my troops and their mounts out of the way
and high into the trees.
Chaos mixed with the shouts of unit leaders. The dying cried for
aid, and I struggled.
“Crossbows! Focus fire!” Tarla ordered.
Crossbows snapped, zipping into the fourth ogre. The high tension
weapons blasted their bolts forward with enough force for each projectile to
sink deep into the ogre. Thirty red spots welled blood. The ogre ran a hand
over its body, slicking its torso.
Asha arrived with his small group, slicing the calf of the ogre.
Quon roared before whimpering. The large ogre atop of the bear
pounded his skull in with powerful blows. The bear went limp, dying from
the raining punches.
Tarla screamed in rage, unleashing a massive fireball. The swirling
inferno of magic crashed down into the ogre’s face, melting skin and
causing the ogre to rip sections of burning flesh from the tormenting
magic.
When the ogre rolled over, it crushed a line of stabbing goblins and
the naga I had assigned to the unit. The fated moment of mana exhaustion
hit like a brick wall, and I collapsed.
I vomited while laying on my back, the excess draining down my
cheeks as I lost all power to my limbs. I hated this part with a passion.
I rolled onto my side, letting the next bout of fatigue wash over me.
The notifications kept coming, and I couldn’t select to restore my mana
because I still lost minions.
The fifth retreating ogre had changed her mind. She hit our lines as
the third and fourth fought from their knees. A large ice spell shot up and
into the ogre who had killed Quon.
I was shocked the trolls and goblins didn’t break. They fought with
spirit and a determination to win.
A tall water golem walked over to the ogre who had been riddled
with crossbow bolts. The golem hugged the ogre just as electric charges
surged into the creation. The hair on the ogre’s head burnt, and the large
strivian quaked from the energy that coursed through its body.
Additional bolts snapped, adding to the damage. With a tremor still
shaking the body, the mighty ogre collapsed, crushing another of my
cerberus minions.
I didn’t see the third ogre die, but I did see Asha kiting the final
female ogre. Every time I felt I could recover, another damn cerberus
ducked under a foot. I watched them trying to tear out a heel, only to end up
getting crushed.
A naga dug a blade into the calf of the ogre, ripping down her
hamstring. The naga skeleton succeeded in getting crushed by the falling
monster.
That was it, though. The rest of my army pounced on the shield
mage who foolishly returned to the fight. She killed a few more goblins,
fighting to the end as she died from a thousand stabs, cuts, and bites.
“For Caitlyn! For Caitlyn!” Bell shouted and the tribe joined her
cheer.
The prompt dominating my vision stopped scrolling, allowing me
to breathe a sigh of relief. We had done it.
Your minions Cerberus 1, Cerberus 2, Cerberus 3, Cerberus 4,
Naga Hessi, Naga Alpha, Goblin 3, and Azee Trollkin have died beyond
repair. Claim your Zorta from the dead. Penalty eight hundred mana.
You have hit 0 mana. Mana exhaustion initiated for three days and one
hour.
Your minions Cerberus 5 and Cerberus 6 have died. Penalty
two hundred mana. You have hit 0 mana. You have one hour to rebuild
your minions. You may use Zorta to restore your mana.
Consume 5.80 Zorta to recover 965 mana + 50 to full recovery.
(YES) - (NO)
I hated selecting yes due to the cost, but I did it. The recovery
wasn’t instant like normal. A transition time of a few seconds had me
slowly feeling better.
Tarla arrived at my side, hurrying to clean my face and help me up.
A second later, she rushed off, Bell calling her over to start claiming an
ogre’s loot.
The heavy armor had proved needless this fight, and when I stood, I
deflated at the sight.
A pool of blood filled the divots in the road. The remnants of the
battle spread out into the forests. One troll survived on the top of a tree,
crying for help. Our tribe collected the wounded in one spot and the dead in
another.
The dead numbered in the dozens, and I grew sad. The efficient
trolls and goblins lined up the dead happily, constantly glancing at me with
joy.
“Why are they excited?” I asked, only to realize I was alone.
Nee managed the workers, helping get us ready to move again.
Yermica’s corpse was carried by Asha from the trees, being added to the
rows of dead. I grabbed a random goblin and asked. “Why is the tribe not
somber?”
The goblin twisted his head in confusion.
“Why are they not sad?” I repeated.
“You can bring us back from the dead. That is why we do not fear
death. You will rescue us,” the goblin said.
“Some bodies are beyond saving,” I said.
The goblin shrugged, as if that was not a big deal. Bell walked over
from a dead ogre to the carriage and handed me a rucksack filled to the
brim with orbs.
“Time to get to work. I’ll start with the ogres. Claiming them will
be tough,” Bell said. Her hazel eyes spoke of worry. “I don’t know if I’ll be
able to. I already failed a dozen times on this one.”
“I can help,” Asha said, standing over Yermica’s body. “She was
with child. I recommend reviving those with babies first.”
Damn, this was brutal.
Yermica’s back had snapped to the point she folded. I saw her
colorful orb hovering over her body and knew two for the price of one was
a great deal.
I sat down, accepting the bag of orbs from Bell, understanding she
wanted me to level up my necromancy. After I picked up Yermica, though.
Getting revivals out quickly always meant that if we had a second fight, I
might be able to save someone later.
When I concentrated to find my aura, my body fought me, the
massive losses from my minions rocking my core like an ocean on a violent
sea.
I swooned, fighting the vertigo.
Not really having a choice, I laid down, letting a calm wash over
me and giving myself a moment to regroup.
“Hey, Boss,” a female goblin asked hesitantly.
I pried an eye open, seeing the beastmaster who had changed
Lumpy.
“Who do you want revived?” she asked.
“How many revivals are available?” I asked, and she turned,
hollering out to the goblins who were cleaning up the battlefield. She
continued to try to find the information, leaving me alone.
I closed my eyes again, propping myself up. Each second that
passed allowed me to feel better. This time, I found my center, humming to
focus my aura. I reached out to touch Yermica’s orb.
Resurrect Yermica of tribe Moonguard (YES) or (NO) Selecting (NO) will incur Nordan points. Yermica is pregnant, the odds
of saving her baby are 75%. This can be improved by leveling your
healing.
I smiled, selecting yes. A golden light washed the exterior of my
eyelids, crashing down into Yermica’s body. I felt the power of the magic
radiating through her body as I controlled the spell. Her back corrected with
a pop, and she gasped in air hungrily.
“Yermica, welcome back,” I said.
She walked over, hands running down her face in shock. “I hate
dying, and thank you for saving me and my child, Boss Damien.”
“Tribe Moonguard?” I said.
“Yes, that is our name. What do you want Hessonia?” Yermica
asked the returning goblin beastmaster.
She arrived with three goblins.
“Two beast revivals and one healer revival,” Hessonia answered
me, not Yermica.
“Revive an expecting mother, Quon, and… the largest ram. Wait,” I
said, changing my mind. “That cerberus right there.” I pointed to one of the
salvageable cerberus. I shifted my focus to Yermica. “Ready the army to
raid the ogre village and send scouts out to see what defenses they have.”
“As the Boss commands,” Yermica said, leaving my side.
One of the goblins neared, fidgeting.
“Out with it,” I said. The goblin shook with fright, and I sighed.
“Whatever you need to tell me will not result in you being harmed.”
“The bear is beyond saving, Boss,” he whispered.
“The other cerberus then,” I said, pointing to my other minion that
could be saved.
Without a doubt, we had lost too much. Quon was a huge asset that
would be sorely missed, and I couldn’t even revive him.
I closed my eyes, found my aura, and reached out to the bear. I
consumed his 26.731 Zorta with a grumble at how life wasn’t fair.
Returning to focus on the bag, I shifted my attention. I started the
half hour long process of claiming a thousand plus marble sized orbs. The
bag happened to be loaded with a ton of orbs from fish, squirrels, rabbits,
and other small animals that were hardly worth much. A few larger orbs
helped balance out the small numbers.
When I finished, I only had 812.13 Zorta. I huffed, knowing this
wasn’t enough to level up and claim all the dead as minion. Even if I
wanted to, I’d still need the extra Zorta to afford their revivals.
I walked over to a chanting Asha, the elva fighting an ogre orb.
This was good and bad. Not a single orb had been claimed from the five
yet.
I went through to my old minions who gave their all to help us win.
After I consumed the last of their power, I only came up to 842.009 Zorta.
Biting my lip and trying to avoid the awful stench, I walked the line
of the dead. My minions watched me surveying the damage. Seven trolls
and twenty-two goblins laid neatly on the ground. A half dozen puppies had
died needlessly, their bodies beyond saving. Two of the female hounds
rested with them.
I paused, seeing if the momma hounds could be revived and sighed.
They hadn’t needed to die. I collected the puppy orbs, earning not even half
a Z. I went to a second line of dead, noting none of these had orbs or bodies
that could be salvaged.
The bones of my minions rested with those who had died a final
death, and I hung my head at our losses; eight minions, six goblins, three
rams, and two trolls forever taken from this world.
A loud clomp from a ram stirred my sorrow. I glanced up to see
Yermica grinning. She carried a few sacks, and a long trail of goblins
hesitantly walked down the road.
“Interesting,” I said, surprised by what she brought with her.
“I saw curious goblins sniffing the air. Fifty six to be exact. They
showed me all the stash spots the ogres used. Here’s a sack of gold that the
goblins panned out of the river, and this is orbs that are mostly from cheap
animals. This final sack is strivian coins,” Yermica said, her eyes lighting
up as she remembered something. “I left behind the big war drum with a
swinging tree pounder thingy. We can claim it on our way to the mine if you
want.”
I frowned, glancing around her and the ram she rode in on. “They
have ducks?” I asked, seeing a second column of the animals heading for
our army. She nodded, not answering the obvious question. “Sorry, I'm still
processing. Is there a stamp for the city these coins belong to?”
“The troll city down below,” Yermica said with a smile. She clearly
was ecstatic to be alive. “We trolls also have currencies. If I had to guess,
they raided and traded with their neighbors to the south. No luck with the
others?”
I glanced up and saw Jark, Asha, Bell, Tarla, and a random troll
chanting besides the ogre bodies.
“I think that troll earned the kill mark, but nope, no claim yet. My
guess is the ogres are valuable,” I said.
Apparently, I spoke too soon.
“Got it,” Asha said, walking over to a body to grab an orb. “78.992.
Not bad for this lady.”
“Yes,” Tarla cried out, raising to her feet to claim the troll with the
melted face. “91.337!”
I gulped, waving them both over. I sat down, crossing my legs with
palms open. I felt two orbs being gently set into my outstretched hand and
closed my palms.
My aura instantly connected, and I consumed both orbs, reaching
1012.338 Zorta.
Necromancer Level 3 -} Necromancer Level 4 = 1,000 Zorta.
(YES) or (NO)
I immediately selected yes. Same as before, a slight shiver ran
down my spine and nothing profound occurred.
Maybe at five I would change or some demon would pour power
into my soul.
Eh, that thought left me with a shudder.
Name: Damien Moonguard
Race: Human
Affiliation: Neutral
Zorta: 1.922
Magic Type 2: Necromancer
Necromancy Level: 4
Necromancer Minions: 5/150
Mana: 150/150
Fighting Level: Weak
“Whoa! I got a hundred mana boost!” I exclaimed.
I knew it wouldn’t save me from a battle like we had just fought,
but it certainly meant I could start upgrading my minions without having to
pay high Zorta for over mana cap costs.
“Leveling matters,” Bell said, setting an orb into my lap. “May I
keep the other two for Tarla?”
“Yes, and this sack. How much was this ogre?” I asked.
“Eighty something. I earned seven levels in cultivation,” Bell said
happily.
Distant war horns blared and drums from across the valley
thrummed. Our enemies weren’t going to give us rest. I quickly consumed
the Zorta, adding to my reserves.
Instead of reaching out with my cultivation on a single basis, I
swapped tactics. I concentrated on projecting my aura onto the dead in a
radiating wave, much like how a pebble drops into a calm pond.
The rippling effect faltered. I calmed my mind, focusing with a
relaxed concentration. I might have relaxed too much and failed again. I
could feel the right way, though, and on the third attempt, my ability to
cultivate reached out like a growing wave around my body.
The two ogres immediately rejected my widening attempt.
However, every last one of the tribe’s dead goblins, hounds, and
trolls that were able to be revived instantly connected to me. I used the
same method as I had with healing my minions in a group and selected
claim all.
You have connected to a variation of dead beings and creatures.
Seven trolls, twenty two goblins, and two hounds. Would you like claim
(ALL) (GROUP) (SINGLE)
Interesting. I selected all.
Claiming all the selected dead as a minion will result in you
earning Ostriva and Nordan points. Do you wish to proceed? (YES) (NO)
I continued.
You selected to claim 29 minions. Consume 21.332 Zorta to
summon these creatures as minions of the undead. Confirm (YES) (NO)
I grew confused at first. I had selected yes and not expected to feel
a rage roiled inside me.
A darker part of my soul howled out in delight.
I opened my eyes, and a brewing cloud of magic darkened the
whole valley.
The unexpected happened. The storm… it coalesced, and a series of
reapers fell from the skies, crashing down onto the dead minions. They
picked up the corpses, one at a time, and hurled them against the hard road.
The meaty thwacks were joined by millions of ghoulish hands
devouring flesh. The magic rippled through the area, cleaning bones in a
whole new manner. Those around me stood fixated in terror.
I oddly cackled at the smiling reapers who enjoyed their task. One
of the hooded skeletons even saluted me before falling into the depths,
vanishing from the surface.
A silence ensued, and my new minions stood ready for orders. I
smirked, reveling in my newfound power.
I maintained a hold on my minions, selecting them all for a simple
upgrade.
Upgrade minions from Level 1 -} Level 2 for 6 Zorta and 83
Mana (YES) - (NO)
The departing clouds returned with their haunting darkness. My
minions collapsed, their bones entering a vortex of power.
I watched their density and size improve as the black magic danced
between them, causing each section to vibrate.
A level two cerberus had still died to an ogre with a simple stomp,
but I felt the upgrades worth the cost.
The magic assembled them back together, and a second later, the
darkness retreated.
“Well, that stopped the ogre drums but the war horns from below
are bellowing twice as loud now,” Asha said.
“The troll got his ogre. Just Jark is failing now,” Tarla said.
I knew we needed to get moving, and even if we rushed, we might
not make it.
“Swap with Jark, Asha. Take Charlie and have Yermica watch over
you. Meet us at the mine, and let’s pray no horrors keep us from entering,” I
said.
Tarla shouted, “We jog for the mine.”
The road trembled, and I knew a horde of centaurs were
stampeding for this valley. I had no idea when they’d arrive, and I could
only hope we’d find sanctuary in time.
CHAPTER 35
Seqa Mine
“Well, this is ominous,” I said, staring at a massive spider web that
connected two immense dwarven doors.
The entryway was luckily open, the web empty, and our arrival
ahead of the coming tide of centaurs. I had a choice now.
Did I dive into the mine, not knowing the dangers?
Or did I turn and fight the great herd of centaurs and their allies?
Better to fight the unknown and hope for the best.
“Into the mine!” I shouted to the caravan.
The trolls grouped up, shoving the doors open. Goblins added their
weight, and the massive doors creaked angrily.
I turned back, seeing a dozen arrows come whistling up and over
the canopy to soar for our ranks. Shouting taunts from the vanguard of the
enemy drifted toward us along with their arrows.
The centaur scouts were relentless in their pursuit. Over the last six
hours, they had wounded and killed some of our group with their
harassment.
Tarla chanted, her hands swirling during her buildup. She unleashed
a fireball back into the forest; both sides had been hurling ranged spells at
each other. A blue shield absorbed her spell.
Every second that ticked by, more of our small army entered the
dark tunnel, passing into safety.
A wyvern’s cry from up high pulled my attention. I saw the mighty
tanned raptor circling the valley, and I had to wonder if it held a rider. I
sighed, knowing the dangers of being in the open were almost over.
The back wagons rolled into the cavernous entryway, all but
guaranteeing our escape.
I adjusted to study the doors that would have to hold back an army.
The metal framing was thick, at least a foot wide. The internal hinges
creaked, protesting their use from old age, but I didn’t see rust or ruin.
The doors had mining picks engraved onto them, each tool etching
over twenty feet long. Unless the centaurs arrived with a metal battering
ram, I had to think we would be fine.
A goblin cried out, taking an arrow in the back. The young warrior
collapsed, losing the use of his legs. I grumbled. The rear troops all had
shields and should be facing the threat.
I closed my eyes and shouted, “Heal area!”
The expanding wave of green magic rippled over our retreating
caravan, repairing those who suffered.
Bell patted my shoulder before heading into the darkness and said,
“Well done, Magus. Impressive spell.”
She had a point. The ability to area heal in a radiant wave was not
natural to a healer at my level.
A single centaur exited the trees, nearing the opening for where the
mountain met the valley.
I recognized this centaur, and before I could say anything, the lone
strivian shouted, “I, Perqueta of no tribe, demand the right to combat
against the champion of the unknown god.”
I huffed, pinching the brow of my nose. Here stood a centaur who
had lost everything. He gambled, wanting mares more than all else. He
gambled that I wouldn’t betray him, his herd declining when I did. Then his
herd’s home became cinders when he left it to summon a hunt for me.
A warm feeling cascaded through my being, one of joy. He planned
to kill me a few times now through deception. Here he stood, ordering a
challenge, and I shook my head at his audacity.
With a smirk, I shouted, “Crossbows, fire.”
All of our troops who hadn’t entered the mines spun. The snap of
forty crossbows echoed into the mines and across the mountainous
clearing.
Perqueta jolted forward, desperate to flee the volley of bolts I had
audaciously unleashed. His movements were too slow, and the bolts
peppered his body. He didn’t cry out or scream. The projectiles dove into
his body, slaying him before he could successfully retreat. His body
tumbled like those deer you see getting shot mid run.
This was not the end he had likely expected, and I didn’t allow him
the satisfaction of dying forever.
“Death is power, and power is everything! Death is power, and
power is everything! Death is power, and power is everything!” my chant
echoed, increased by the goblins and trolls.
The sound boomed through the mines and out across the opening.
I never closed my eyes, linking to Perqueta’s orb. I selected to
claim his body as others tried to steal his orb. I quickly paid the six Zorta
fee and called upon the ghouls to claim his flesh.
“Torbard will hear you’re a spineless rabbit!” a centaur taunted.
“You have no honor, human scum,” another scout shouted. “Our
army will break down your gates and defecate on your corpses. See the
wrath, it comes!”
The great herd was easy to track as they neared. The army was so
vast, it couldn’t stay on the road, causing birds to jolt into flight when the
massive army trampled through the valley forest.
I ignored the signs that we were running out of time. Ghoulish
hands ripped flesh from bone, and a few seconds later, Perquata stood as a
skeleton warrior. I summoned him into the mine, adding a second centaur to
my ranks. Arrows whistled out, clanking off his bones, doing little to the
former chieftain’s frame.
“If you continue to challenge me, expect death at every corner. Tell
your great chieftain Torsmear that the gods are not to be trifled with,” I
shouted.
“Torbard will hear your insult and demand you suffer for your
insult,” a scout shouted.
I was going to argue that I really just messed up the name and that
that was common for me, but I let the subject drop.
The last of the goblins streamed into the mine, crossing the
threshold, and I followed them in. The rear guard of the caravan dodged or
raised shields for the final salvo that zipped in through the open doors.
I joined the effort in sealing the doors shut, pushing with all my
might to help escape the coming tide of death.
“That was brutal,” Asha said unhappily.
“Huh?” I managed as I pushed hard with a grunt.
The doors protested angrily, fighting our combined effort. I dug my
heels in, adding more force to the door.
“They centaurs will never allow you to challenge a leader to a fight
again,” Asha said.
“The asshole led a whole army after us. You think I care?” I asked
with a scoff. “This isn’t about honor, it’s about survival. I want to let his
bones crumple, but if Prequeta was stupid enough to expose himself, then
good for us. We need all the help we can get.”
“That is not the strivian way,” Yermica said, helping us slam the
left door closed.
I grimaced, running to help shut the right door.
Clap!
Darkness enveloped us when both doors closed, bringing a lot of
sighs of relief.
“Step back,” Tarla said.
She yanked a rope, triggering a release. The narrow hall echoed the
sound of a tight chain unspooling. A portcullis dropped with a thud, the
metal framing reinforcing the doors.
Oh neat, I hadn’t seen that. Yeah, they’re not getting in without
some trick.
“I don’t think he wants to be an Ostriva or Nordan leader. He is
Caitlyn’s champion who is a bit of both and everything. His rule has gotten
us this far, and now we enter the unknown with another soldier on our
side,” Bell said, defending me.
“Let’s hope we didn’t seal ourselves in to fight another army,” Tarla
said, lighting a torch with her magic.
We were exhausted, literally running to the point where there was
no more energy left in our tribe. Everywhere I glanced, goblins and trolls
laid down, getting comfortable.
The entry point to the mine held a short tunnel. At the end of the
hallway, a cavernous loading area with a big dome ceiling provided plenty
of flat space. A stone storage building rested on the left, cart tracks at the
backend led down a tunnel, and hitching posts for cart animals with water
troughs adorned the right wall.
Besides the warehouse, there was only a stable building. I sent my
minions to clear both structures of threats.
“Nee, give me a head count,” I ordered. “Tarla, fires and food. Bell,
help her. Asha, secure the perimeter. Jark, manage the tents and help
facilitate a latrine point. Listen up, Tribe Moonguard.”
The sleepy and worn-out troops gave me their attention.
“The main enemy army will be here in a few hours. We eat first.
Trust me, everyone must eat and only then we sleep. If we need to keep
fighting or running, you will need your energy. When the doors are
threatened, we dive deeper into the mines until we find a tunnel we can clog
with the wagons.
“We have plenty of frozen meat and fish to last at least a few
months. After the long journey, I hope we can build a home and the enemy
realizes we’re not worth the effort. I don’t know what we’ll face as we dive
into the depths of the mine, but I know we will manage it together,” I
boomed, my voice echoing across the cavern.
The weary picked themselves up off the ground to properly prepare
a camp. While they set up our wagons in a circle, pulled out tents, and
hauled firewood out of wagons, I went to the storage building.
Flame danced their illumination across the surprisingly large space.
A breeze from below felt nice against my sweaty frame. Even though
interior fires brightened the area, it still felt gloomy and dark.
The centaur scout we had caught in the valley held the door open
for me. The interior of the warehouse was mostly empty. A desk rested on
the left, paperwork still littered the top with illegible markings on them. The
large side doors were sprawled open.
In the dust, hundreds of spider prints dotted the floor. If the
webbing at the entrance wasn’t enough, this said there would be a spider
queen below. It also meant any gold abandoned in haste had been pilfered
already.
“This stone building is defensible,” I muttered, patting the thick
stone walls.
I left to inspect the stables, feeling the cool mountain stone chilling
the air. The walk across the cavern revealed no fresh prints, and besides the
initial webbing, I saw no other signs of spiders or strivians.
The doors to the stable rested on a broken hinge. I found the
interior smelled of death from ancient feces and a rotting donkey corpse.
The flooring had old, shriveled hay we could burn but little else of value.
Again, I saw tracks, telling me the valuables left behind were gone.
I ordered my minions to add the desk to the top of the carriage, not
knowing what awaited us further into the mine. At the very least, we could
burn it. Returning to the fires, I saw the big cauldron boiling a large stew.
Fire mages heated the device, speeding up the process. Each goblin
and troll asked for a helping of stew before leaving to eat quickly. I fetched
Tarla’s bowl along with mine from the carriage’s interior.
Besides the occasional dog whimper or crackle of the fire, the
mood was mellow. The goblins chatted quietly, almost in whispers. I missed
the ambient noises of the forest. Only the soft howl of the wind below
reminded me that we had entered a whole new chapter in our adventure.
The sunny days, the almost infinite small prey, and the open spaces
were gone. While I was happy to be alive, I wasn’t thrilled that we now
dwelled in the cavernous holds.
I slurped down my bowl of soup, leaving my minions to protect us
while our weary group recovered in its new home.
After ensuring we had a secure perimeter, I snuggled into a large
blanket with Tarla as I wondered what dangers lurked below.
CHAPTER 36
Seqa Mine
If the centaurs were trying to pound and smash the steel doors
down, my minions never let me know. Without a sun to tell me how long I
had slept, I had to inspect my stats and go off mana recovery.
I smacked my lips, stretching with a happy grunt. Leaving the bed,
I noticed I had fully recharged, meaning at least eight hours of sleep. I
grabbed a robe, feeling the chilly air blowing over the cold stone.
Bits of the army stirred within the camp, either heading for some
food or the dumping spot behind the stable.
Asha sat by the fire, carving a section of wood into what I could
only guess would become a toy horse. I had to ask him if he ever slept and
yeah, he did, but elva only needed about half the sleep of a human. Lucky
bastard.
Tarla turned, snuggling into my pillow after I had left her side. I
gazed down at her fondly, smiling as she shifted.
With no threat and skeletons guarding our camp, I saw no reason to
awake those who needed some extra sleep. When I plopped down besides
Asha, he set the carving in his lap and handed me a piece of paper.
Tribe Head Count
172 Goblins
22 Trolls
92 Hounds
3 Humans
35 Minions
“Surprised her writing is so neat,” I said, and Asha shook his head
as if I were wrong. “Champion magic?”
“Likely, I could barely read it,” the elva said. “Bit peeved she
classified me as a minion.”
I eyed the elva, feeling sorry for him. “You know, I’ve thought
about it a lot. We never talk about that day, but I have wondered how fast I
would have died if I revived you instead of making you a minion.”
“You, never. Bell or Tarla, instantly. On top of that, they would
have killed me a second time. Don’t hate yourself. I already have that cover.
As in, I hate myself for my own predicament. I died because of lust, not
because you didn’t revive me. Hell, there were three healers in that camp,”
Asha said.
“Well, I consider you a friend now, and not a minion. Hopefully I
can fix your… predicament,” I said with a sigh. He nodded, his smile
saying more than enough. I thumbed back toward the big doors and asked,
“What do you think the enemy is doing?”
“Best guess? They spread out trying to find a second way in.
Instead, they found ornery ogres’ nests to fight and are tied up with that.
That door will take some serious power to knock down. They smashed on it
for a bit but gave up not long after,” Asha said, returning to whittling his
block.
I neatly folded the paper, the sheet had value and could be re-used.
I left Asha’s side to grab my sword. For the next hour the camp stirred,
slowly waking. A fish breakfast was handed out, and I swung my sword at a
pretend sparring partner.
Bell found me, coming to practice as well.
“The stable will make a fine church,” Bell said.
“Yes, it certainly would. Not saying no, but let’s see what rests
below. I have to assume the dwarves had this mine as an outpost, keeping
the workers closer to the actual mining than the distribution,” I said.
“As in a barracks?” she asked.
“I’d hope for a water source, barracks, and such, but I have no
idea,” I admitted, thrusting into a pretend opponent.
She eyed me, contemplating something, and then switched gears. If
I had to guess, she wanted to push the Caitlyn church issue.
We practiced sword swings side by side, waiting for the camp to
fully awaken.
Tarla brought steaming fish in my bowl, no soup this time. I slid my
weapon into its sheath and greedily ate my breakfast in a messy fashion.
After I finished, I cleaned out the bowl and tucked it away.
Those little things, they were something I would have never
expected to become so routine. Your spoon and bowl turned into
companions you eyed happily, taking a bit of pride in. You certainly didn’t
want to forget them and have to borrow someone else’s bowl.
I knew I had some maintenance to catch up on, so I went about
doing laundry while the camp spent the first part of the day still recovering.
After laundry, I found one of our seamstress trolls and handed her a broken
sandal.
With my chores complete, I dove into the healer book, practicing a
few spell rotations. I saw I had leveled up to healer nine and decided to hold
off on improving it for now.
The dwarves said the tunnels would be filled with threats the
deeper we went, but if they weren’t, the Zorta I had in reserves might be
vital.
I walked over to Nee who was feeding puppies with her husband. I
forgot the goblin’s name, but we exchanged smiles.
“I’m going to send my minions to scout. Ready the goblins.”
She happily nodded, the pups sad they had to fight over the food
she tossed out.
“Yermica, get the wagons ready. Asha, with me,” I said loudly,
seeing her brushing a ram.
I left the wagon circle where the goblins and trolls had organized
themselves for battle. Jark ran to catch up as my other minions flanked me.
“Hey, Boss, what do you have for me?” he asked.
I glanced at Jark, walking with him for the trolley system. The man
was the definition of character growth on a journey. He had gone from
betrayal to loyalty, immature to boring. My father had a saying, ‘boring is
good, boring is safe, and boring is actually for the best.’
For most of my adult life, I had lived boring. Never getting too
drunk, never doing drugs, never cheating on women, always showing up to
work early, and never giving my boss problems. Jark, well, he had
transitioned into the ‘me’ I had left behind. Or so I felt.
“Do me a favor. Go ahead and scout with the two centaur
skeletons,” I said, being more polite than I needed to be.
He raced down the mine cart path, each footstep gingerly placed.
Tarla arrived at my side, watching him vanish into the darkness.
“Are you excited for this next part?” Tarla asked.
I sighed. “Sometimes I’m wanting to be the hero,” I admitted.
“Umm… not what I asked, but lay it on me, handsome man.”
My lovely redhead fit me, and I grinned at her offer.
“I’m a demon, not a man,” I said, staring into the blackness of the
declining tunnel. “Sorry, just feeling a bit down that I’m trapped
underground by a horde of centaurs. The hero in the movies… in Earth’s
tales, would have unleashed an army of dragons, flooded the valley, or
raised skeletons from deep with the very planet to win the day. But I did
none of that. I hid under the bed.”
“Only a god could do those things,” Tarla said, taking my hand into
hers. She leaned against my shoulder. “I think you’re doing great. Some
calm and training will do wonders for the spirit.”
“Boss!” Jark’s voice echoed up from below. “You’re gonna wanna
see this.”
“You sure you should be shouting?” I teased.
“Uh… yeah, they’re waiting for you,” Jark said, and I frowned.
“Formations,” I ordered over my shoulder to the gathering troops.
“Not that kind of waiting, but I understand, just don’t do anything
rash, please,” Jark said, further piquing my curiosity.
“Hold up, Damien. This conversation seems to be bothering you,”
Tarla said, noticing I was ready to get on a mount to join the assembling
formation. “They’re soldiers, and you’re their leader. That means you need
to make the hard decisions. At the same time, you did wonderful. Truly,
even Bell is singing your praises, and she is right. You can only affect what
you control, and you choose to push us hard based on a single line from a
mysterious goblin. She wouldn’t have done that, but you did. You’re doing
great even with all the outside factors being against you.”
“I know,” I said with a deep inhale. “I refuse to angst endlessly
about it. I have to learn to get back on the horse, ram in this case, and carry
on. Thanks for being there for me to vent to.”
“You’re compartmentalizing, and… I don’t blame you. I’m sorry
you didn’t win the day and become king of the hill, but you did save over
two hundred lives,” she said. “Oh, speaking of which, probably time to
revive another troll or goblin.”
I leaned down, kissing her forehead. I went to leave, but she
wrapped me up, holding me in a tender embrace.
A happy sigh escaped my lips. I found one of my troll minions and
reached out with my aura.
Resurrect Korna of tribe Moonguard (YES) or (NO) - Selecting
(NO) will incur Nordan points.
I selected yes, feeling the power surge from out of my core. Tarla
let me go, shaking her head at my silly casting while hugging me.
Instead of a beam of light striking down from the heavens, a golden
glow started from the upper parts of the caverns dome. The golden ball of
power coalesced and tendrils of light swirled around the condensing magic.
As if shot out of a cannon, the orb blasted down for a stunned troll.
The magic burst the troll apart, creating a blinding light. I flinched,
squinting from the insanely intense illumination.
When the magic dissipated, Korna jumped for joy. And then she
realized she was nude. Her light green cheeks turned crimson, and she
accepted a robe from Yermica.
A round of cheering erupted from the assembling tribe, and I
smiled.
These moments of joy, they helped.
Asha came over, bringing the ram who had broken my fingers. Bell
rode Charlie, joining my side after I jumped into the saddle.
Moving around without armor was incredibly refreshing, and I had
to trust Jark that whatever awaited us at the bottom of the tunnel wasn’t a
threat.
A goblin created an illumination orb, the magic lifting up high,
gently revealing the way. We carefully walked down the descending incline
for five minutes. When I heard jubilant celebrating, I grew a tad confused.
The bottom of the tunnel tapered off its downslope. An old entry
had been blocked off. The massive pile of rubble stacked in front of what
should have been a second set of doors.
Off to the left, a smaller tunnel, barely big enough for a wagon,
revealed a new source of lighting. We walked around a bend, winding in a
circle downwards for probably four spirals. The walls here held notches and
arrow slits. The scars for this tunnel were newer. We descended until we
suddenly leveled off at a moat.
After crossing a lowered bridge, we arrived in what I could only
describe as an underground city.
A massive orb blasted a fake sunlight down upon neatly organized
stone buildings.
At the far back of the enormous cavern, a breeze blasted into the
space above a roaring waterfall. The constant roar of the distant waterfall
created a constant background noise.
I spent a minute absorbing the sight. Each of the buildings varied,
with some having unique flares like extra balconies or smoke stacks that
went to a separate vent in the roof of the cavern. I saw districts of
manufacturing separate from housing, and even a few open spaces for
parks.
A fifty-foot tall water fountain spewed clear water down ruffled
edges, cascading down in a dazzling effect.
Near the fountain, and in the water at the bottom, dwarven children
played with a version of tinkering gnomes. There had to be at least a few
hundred beings enjoying a cookout. None of them were bothered or
frightened by our arrival. A spider queen tried to push forward her children
into joining the others. The spider queen wasn't what I expected.
Six hells from six planets, none of this was.
The front door left ajar, the lack of help, and a functioning city…
It was like my mind delved into a muddy trench and became
trapped, unable to cope with the sudden change in reality.
The spider queen approached our group, Jark already mingling with
the residents. The woman, for she certainly held a feminine figure, had legs
that stopped mid shin. Her back half consisted of a large swollen torso with
eight legs that clacked on stone road.
Eight eyes went from her forehead to her cheek, and a wide smile
showed very human teeth. She had her hands up to display a lack of
aggression.
“Welcome to my home, I’m Nessio,” the spider queen said.
If her children were frightened before, they were downright
terrified of my army.
“Put your weapons away,” I ordered. “I’m Damien, and this is Tribe
Moonguard. May we enter your home?”
“Of course,” Nessio said, waving us forward. “Bring everything
from above down here, and I’ll seal the inner gates. The winding bit has
about a thousand traps that we disabled before your arrival.”
“Did Zozo tell you we were coming?” I guessed.
She shook her head no.
Bell guessed, “Caitlyn did?”
“Yes, we have a few churches here, and hers is one of them. She
was a spider queen before she ascended,” Nessio said, and I frowned, not
following. “Let her answer that. We left the upper door open for you and
waited until you were ready to let you see our city. For now, you can rest
easy before the gods burden you with their problems - until they become
your problems.”
“Umm… just like that?” I asked. She smiled, turning to lead us into
the city. “I thought you’d want assurances or sacrifices to grant us
sanctuary.”
“You’re a champion to one of our gods. Even I visit Caitlyn’s
church. The mining crews that abandoned this mountain were in the
thousands. I only have a few hundred under my banner,” Nessio said.
“Are you not worried Damien will kill you and claim your tribe?”
Yermica asked.
Nessio laughed at the notion, not even giving it a dignified response
until I frowned.
“This will be your home, but not your permanent home. My
followers are mine. They’ll not follow you if I die. Quite the contrary.
They’ll demand you surrender for a trial, and then hang you. These dwarves
are free and powerful. I only rule because I founded the city and rescued
most of them from other queens. I’m inviting you into my home, with open
arms and friendly gestures. Be careful of who you let talk during your
diplomacy, Damien,” Nessio warned.
Yermica flustered, almost finding the courage to give a defiant
retort when Asha calmed her.
“I, for one, gratefully accept the safe harbor and will gladly help
trade for your hospitality,” I said with a smile.
“Great, now Caitlyn is waiting for her hundred Zorta. You and
Priestess Bell are to follow me,” Nessio said, leaving the main street for a
side road.
“Tarla is in charge. You’re to behave and cause no problems. If a
problem arises, avoid confrontation and seek a leader,” I said loudly enough
for the others to hear. When the echo stopped, I turned to Tarla. “Ensure
everyone settles, and I’ll fill you in on what news I hear from Caitlyn as
soon as I can.”
We shared a tender kiss that became a smidge fiery. I opened my
eyes to see her lovely browns sparkling in the artificial light.
Bell giggled, waving me on, clearly excited. “I got her hundred Z
right here,” she said proudly.
“Bell, shush,” I said, still a bit concerned this might be a trap.
She rolled her eyes and replied, “I sense her nearby. Have a bit of
faith, Damien.”
The miner town didn’t remind me of any construction I’d seen
before. The utilitarian nature of the stonework held no carvings or
intricacies. Everything served a purpose with a function. The windows held
shutters with hinges only showing a light rust.
A dusty grime caked everything, even the side road we were on.
You could see where the few residents had used this quiet road from the
footprints in the center.
I inhaled deeply, feeling nervous. I’d been on Nordan for months,
but I felt my journey had just begun. I certainly had the right tools to earn
ten thousand Zorta with necromancer at level 4. One more enemy village
raided, and I’d have an army.
Not to mention I could hear the clang of a hammer smashing metal,
telling me this mine still produced. Maybe a fully armored army was in my
future.
Bell and Nessio talked about Caitlyn while I absorbed the sights,
sounds, and smells.
We left a side road, passing a commercial district, the hammering
getting closer. A dwarf waved at Nessio. He didn’t seem enthralled or mind
controlled.
“I don’t get it,” I said.
“The fact he is happy and not a minion of mine?” Nessio asked. I
opened my mouth and then shut it, deciding to nod instead. “Spider queen
secret; when they turn into thralls, they die from accidents often, barely
fight, and don’t function as a society. I have a breeder like most queens, but
the one is all I need. I use a dwarf who murdered his wife. You break the
laws, you get punished.”
“Ah, I guess I try to do something similar,” I said. “I could kill the
goblins to maximize my minions, but I’d rather have them content and
happy. I can suppress memories and tend not to. However the centaurs are
drones at the moment.”
We stopped in front of a plain warehouse. Nothing special dictated
it was a church. Shoot, there wasn’t even a door on the building.
“We will catch up more later. It’s always good to hear what the
outside world is like. You're safe for now, well, for however long you stay,”
Nessio said.
We thanked her and walked into the church. My stomach twisted in
a knot, nervous about what would come next.
CHAPTER 37
The Town of Seqa
The warehouse showed minimal signs of being a church. Against a
far wall rested a desk with a drawing on it. The image was too distant to
even make out.
Our footsteps echoed in the large room. Bell giggled, running for
the desk. She placed a stick figure on the surface atop the drawing, placed
the bag of orbs down with a thunk, and kneeled.
“Dear Caitlyn, in your name we give thanks,” Bell prayed.
Each of her words reverberated through the empty warehouse.
The stick figure attained a golden hue. A shimmering increased
until the desk trembled from a magical transformation. The drawing burned,
fueling the transitions and giving birth to a growing form.
When Caitlyn materialized, I was and wasn’t shocked she did so as
a spider queen.
Her stunning beauty hadn’t changed, and she kept two eyes instead
of eight, but also had the back end of a spider. Caitlyn the Deviant who had
become Caitlyn the Temptress was actually a spider queen. I sighed at the
reality, not overly surprised that the woman who tricked me was from a
species known for enthralling horny men.
“Finally, thank you, Bell,” Caitlyn said, walking around the big
space.
Each time one of her pointy feet touched the stone floor, it echoed
with a soft slap. I saw hairs on the bottom of her feet, spreading out her
weight. She returned to the desk, instantly decreasing the size of the bag
filled with small value orbs.
The sack compressed, and she sighed in ecstasy. Her hands slapped
down to the desk, bracing herself during a shudder.
A hundred Zorta must be a lot to a god.
I went to a nearby wall, sitting down to lean back. Figured this was
likely going to take a while and that I might as well get comfortable.
“I’m sure you have a million questions,” Caitlyn said, hugging Bell
in thanks. “You’ve both been remarkable, and I couldn’t be happier.”
“We don’t have your ten thousand Zorta,” I said.
“Ah, true, but you did survive, you pleased Zozo, and grew in
power,” Caitlyn said proudly.
“Who is Zozo?” Bell asked. “Not in general, but to you. I take it
you weren’t always a god?”
“Have a seat by my champion,” Caitlyn said, and Bell obeyed. “So
nice to be underground again. Where to start…?”
“I heard you weren’t always a god. That part is bothering me,” Bell
said.
She eyed me as if I should care too that the woman who killed me
wasn’t a deceiver.
No, I wasn’t shocked, and to be fair, my goal at the moment was to
learn. Last time I didn’t take Caitlyn seriously, something bad had
happened. This time, I was going to pay attention and take everything she
said with a serious skepticism.
“Okay, to explain how I ascended, you must understand how the
system works. There are six planets tied together: Earth, Ostriva, Nordan,
Gearnix, Leo, Gillin. You know a bit about Gearnix from Ginli. It’s a
steampunk world and the planet’s creation laid the foundation for what
you’re experiencing now.
“That planet has no spells or great coalition of creatures trying to
erase humans to the last. Leo is a monster world without humans except as
food or slaves, very grim, very dark, and a terrible place that all want to
escape from. Gillin is a world run by AI that were generated by gods. Think
of everyone enjoying a lovely simulation, and if any trespassers dare to shift
worlds to Gillin, the defenders squash them,” Caitlyn said.
“Six worlds, four I can go to, one I don’t want to, and the other I’d
never be allowed entry,” I said, and she nodded. “Alright, why?”
“Why what?”
“Why out of the billions of planets that can likely sustain life are
there six connected?” I asked.
She nodded and said, “Zozo, you wanna answer this one?”
A silence ensued.
Caitlyn nodded, folding her arms under her large breasts that I
ignored. Mostly.
I guess she realized he wasn’t coming, huffing with loud stomps as
she paced. I eyed her judgingly.
“Okay, I may say this incorrectly. There is a spot between this
planet and the sun where gravity creates a hidden marker called a universal
lock. The gods can access this lock and then exploit it. This planet has a
gravity of nine point six. This sun has a smidge higher gravity than the
sun’s gravity of the Sol System. This universal lock slash marker matches
Earth’s marker.
“Basically, the universe has a way of connecting planets with
similar tendencies. In this case, six of the old gods found six markers and
created a magical chain, tying them together for entertainment,” Caitlyn
said.
As outlandish as this claim was, I could fathom gods turning
planets into play toys.
After all, why did the creator or ultimate god create the universe?
“Okay, humans are not from an all mighty god, but instead from
these old gods?” I asked, taking a guess.
“Ah, about that: yes, no, and maybe. Also, this is likely why Zozo
has not revealed himself. Some consider the old gods to be angels and
demons of the one true God. They never ever mention much about their
origins, and there could be an almighty God. I do know every species you
see was not created by them, merely plucked from each of the planet's
natural creations to build upon their fun,” Caitlyn said.
Bell cleared her throat and said, “The queen spiders are a natural
creation of…”
“From Leo, I think. They could have been from Earth and then one
of the six moved them, later saying they were from Leo for all I know.
Again, even I’m not privy to the origins of everything and am answering
the best I can. Make no mistake, the old gods tinker, fiddle, and change as
they deem fit, but I think their boss sets limiters just as we have rules. We’ll
never know, though.
“Back to it. The six old gods created six planets. All the planets
stagnated in joy. Every last one of them. The reason - the gods stopped
tinkering after a while and just watched on occasion, growing bored with
their creations.
“At some meeting, in some ancient time, they decided to assign
champions to mess with each other. Proxy wars are entertaining, and yeah, I
got joy from watching you kill Perqueta like the fool he was. These
champion wars were great. If there is strife, interesting events unfold and
therefore, there are activities worthy of spectating.”
Caitlyn paused, pointing to my water flask at my hip. I handed her
the container, and she gulped happily, smacking her lips with a content sigh
after.
Caitlyn continued. “Now, this one will make sense to Damien more
than you, Bell. The internet of random chaos. Or the connected web brings
additional excitement. In the beginning, to help generate excitement, the six
gods created rules, one champion each on only Gearnix. Then they grew
bored. The one turned into six champions each and jumped to Ostriva and
Nordan.
“That grew tiresome, and they finally decided to bestow minor god
powers to champions who pleased them - up to ten minor gods each. The
ten minor gods all had a single champion. No surprise, this wasn’t enough,
and currently it's a thousand minor gods per old god.
“The minor gods, myself included, have two champions each. We
can pull from any planet and are restricted to placing one per Ostriva Prime
or Nordan Prime. Which, you’re my Nordan Prime champion. Okay, so you
saw the math exploded, and this is because of the network. Now add that I
have two high priests or priestesses per planet, and I suddenly have six of
my own minions to manage and countless recruits vying for attention. I
actually am really busy.
“If there are six thousand champions and twelve thousand
empowered priests running around on the planet, the connecting web of
exciting events happening to mundane people increases. Give them all
magic, and the ability to grow from exploiting their environment, and you
have a system that seems to be working,” Caitlyn said with a sigh, taking a
break.
Bell frowned and asked, “You’re a minor god with two head
priestesses and a champion per planet? How much better is being a
champion? We haven’t figured out exactly what Damien is.”
“The champion is special in far greater ways. I can tell you about
your environment but not give you everything. One of my rules is that I
have to be minimalistic, and trust me, these meetings are monitored,”
Caitlyn said.
“I’d love to know more about my necromancer powers,” I said
dryly.
A moment later, she answered as I expected. “Buy books, record
what you learn for the next guy. That is the extent of what I can tell you.”
She lowered her torso at an inhuman angle until she neared Bell’s
face and said, “I have an opening for my Ostriva Prime champion. I could
drag you over there if you abandon being a head priestess here. You’ll be
more powerful, but you’ll likely die and never ascend. Here, you’re almost
done.” Caitlyn smirked with a shrug. “Trust me, become the divine mage,
far less stress for the power gained.”
“Can Asha go? To Ostriva Prime that is?” I asked, wording it
awkwardly, but she caught my meaning.
“Sure, ten thousand Zorta to fix him first,” Caitlyn said with a
smirk, and I groaned. “It gets worse for you Damien, so much worse. That
is his cheapest fix, and you’ll understand in a bit. Any questions before I
continue?”
I shook my head no, and Bell eyed me, then Caitlyn, and then back
to me. She rested into my side, telling me she picked to be my priestess
over being an Ostriva champion. I released a nervous breath I had been
holding.
I liked Bell, and she was a good friend. Replacing her wouldn’t feel
right, and she had been resolute in her dedication to Caitlyn.
“About a thousand years ago, I lived in a basement of the caverns
on Ostriva. Zozo found me. Both of us were bored. He gave me a thousand
tasks, all of them tedious and mostly mindless trivial tasks. When I finished,
he said, and I don’t joke, ‘Being a god is more boring than this. It is like
planting a tomato, watching it grow and only getting halfway until it asks
for more power. Are you interested?’” she said, giggling from the memory.
Caitlyn continued, “I declined him, and he gave me a second list.
Why did I accept the tasks, if I didn’t like his offer? Not sure. He had me
collect a hundred followers and not the thrall types. When I did, he opened
a portal. I went from Ostriva to Nordan and had to collect another thousand
followers. There were no strivians here at the time, and being a spider
queen meant I was a juicy target for the Nordan Lords.
“I fought…” she sighed, staring at the ceiling as she contemplated.
“A lot of battles. Eventually, I retreated to an elva den in an isolated forest. I
became a never aging guest with my loyal followers. Zozo grew bored,
offering me another portal to a new zone on this planet, not too far from
here, actually.
“I established a city, used my followers to build walls, and never let
the humans see my spider half. I was a reclusive queen, and you had to
speak to one of my advisors. I reached his goal with smart management and
unwavering loyalists. One night, I went to sleep like any other, awaking to
six strangers chanting a spell over me.
“The spell ended, I died, and was reborn later. I arrived at a utopia
for the gods. A city on clouds, literally. It held everything I wanted. I
realized I could be a human, or a goblin, or an ogre. I could swim, compete
in competitions, and do just about anything I wanted. I could create
scenarios out of the city’s limits.
“We spent so much time in the city, they started making the
creation of luxury foods or swapping bodies have a cost. Enter Zorta and
our champions. The only thing that is free now is going to a church
someone willingly dedicates to us. Everything else comes at a cost. It
wasn’t always Zorta, and the nuances are many, but you get the picture.”
It didn’t take long for me to understand what I already suspected.
To the immortals with power, this was a game. My life didn’t matter, only
my ability to generate content.
“You suck,” I grumbled. Bell gasped but Caitlyn chuckled with a
nod. “I assume you’re here for more than a splash of lore.”
“You’ve heard of a god called Arax. Do you remember?” Caitlyn
asked, shushing Bell when she went to answer.
I snapped my fingers at least four times, the name on the tip of my
brain as to why I remember him. Then it hit me.
“The god who is worshiped as the one before the cataclysm,” I
said.
“Think about what you just said, and then my story. Everything has
a purpose, Damien. I’m not speaking because I want to be in a dust field
stone warehouse pretending to be a church,” Caitlyn said in a
condescending tone.
“Right, right,” I grumbled. This scolding was warranted, and I
should have been paying closer attention. “He was playing the system
before the tracking stats and Zorta implementations began.”
“Exactly. Arax, no one knows who his parent god is. And…
although doubtful, he could be one of the six,” Caitlyn said, her tone on
edge.
The burned paper, the one with her drawing on it from earlier,
materialized in her hand. She handed me the parchment.
Zorta Ranking Nordan
1. Arax. 42.8 million
2. Hernoma. 21.1 million
3. Zardan. 21.07 million
4. Terfi. 21.06 million
“Oh, you’re competing,” I said with a long pause. “For what?”
“Few things. Gods are about pride mostly. A shiny prize helps fuel
the competition. Number one gets six extra champions, a private city for
their followers, and the rumored chance of becoming the seventh Old God
when the next planet is added,” Caitlyn said with a scoff.
“Jealous?” Bell asked, true curiosity on the edge of her voice.
“Yeah, I’m 5,378 in power. But… I was 5,667 just a few short
minutes ago. A hundred Zorta means nothing at the top and everything at
the bottom.”
I could feel her appreciation and happiness. Her grin certainly sold
that she felt alive with her minimal success.
“I’m glad, sort of. A happy you means I get to go home and you
can find the next sucker,” I said. She winced and I caught a smidge of
sadness in her expression. Accusingly, I asked. “What’s the deal with Earth,
and what do you know?”
“Not allowed to tell,” Caitlyn said, frowning with an ‘I’m sorry’
palms up shrug.
“Is it getting merged with the hell pit known as Leo?” I asked
gruffly.
The minor goddess shook her head, not willing to answer. I sure as
hell hoped that wasn’t the case. I handed her back the paper when she asked
for it. Her silence didn’t sit well with me.
“Hey, if I earn ten thousand Zorta, I expect to get sent to an island
with my parents,” I said, and she nodded that I would. “If I learn there’s no
margaritas on the beach and instead demons are trying to eat my face… I’m
going to be pissed.”
“Ah, better, I can say that where you go, you’ll be safe and secure
as promised, and with your parents. Your error getting into Toneba’s body
will cost me some power, but not much more than moving anyone who is
freshly dead costs,” Caitlyn said with a sigh, eyeing our bag of Zorta.
“How much to take Asha, Jark, and Tarla?” I asked the question I
had been dreading.
“Ouch, and don’t shoot the messenger, but there’s rules. Champions
can move around, and to an extent regular folks can too. But… What was I
on Earth?” Caitlyn asked.
“A ten,” I admitted. “And a human woman.”
“Yeah, so Asha would be a hundred thousand Zorta because I’ll
have to kill him and reshape his entire body. Tarla and her brother aren’t
Earth humans, and yes, there are some differences which, somehow, you’ve
not managed to notice. Meaning they too need to be killed and reborn.
“That requires approvals that require - almost bribes. I phrase it that
way in case someone is listening. Fifty thousand for each of them. If you
want to go from here to your secluded retreat for the rich, with plus three,
it's going to cost two hundred and ten thousand Zorta,” Caitlyn said, a wide
smile spreading over her face. “Just wait. I have an offer that makes the
number less crazy, but if I go into that, the question you're dying to ask will
get side-tracked.”
I deflated, holding in my outburst.
Who was I kidding, the writing was on the way she’d extort me to
go home.
“How much will it cost to bring my parents here?” I asked.
“I can’t unless we get creative,” she said.
“Can’t or the six won’t allow it?” I asked.
“Let me put it a way you’ll follow. The ghouls that strip your
minions, converting them into undead, are actually the dead. They’re stored
for a while before being discarded as new souls arrive. For instance, if you
stay here for a few hundred years, your parents won’t be in the pit to revive
from. On the same planet, it’s a few hundred years. You should start to see
even the gods have rules. A famous saying of the six: ‘Without rules,
there’s anarchy’.
“Without a doubt, I can bring your parents back on Earth over the
next hundred years. To Nordan Prime directly, not a chance. Their souls
simply would hit a magical block. Only the living or freshly dead can be
moved between planets, and yes, Asha and Jark cannot go if they’re in
skeleton form,” Caitlyn said she held a finger up.
“And this creative way?” I asked.
“Your parents died a while ago, they’re upper middle section of the
pits, so you have time unless some cataclysmic event should transpire.
Which, I… I can’t say more about. However, I could revive them on Earth
for you and stick them on said island without you. Ten thousand each,
which would be sweet, but dangerous because they’ll have no one to calm
or guide them. After that, I can bring them here, for a hundred thousand.”
I patted my lap while mulling over her words. “This is a lot to
process, but it does leave me with options. Options I didn’t have before. It
sure is a daunting amount to obtain.”
Bell patted my shoulder and said, “We’re stuck, not exactly able to
farm hundreds of thousands of Z for ya down here.”
“Oh, you’re just getting started, and again, this is leading into my
offer. Please, pay attention here. Remember how I used those portals to
move around?” Caitlyn asked, and we nodded. “This building can be
upgraded, and you will need to do so.”
“This building or this church?” I asked, not fully catching on. “And
I thought there were a thousand threats below ground?”
“This would make a fairly shitty base if it was open to invasions.
The tunnels below are closed off. The dwarves of Zozo Hold choose to pick
fights, and most of their fighting is done via portals.
“They’d never admit that because doing so would tell King Crensaa
of Nara that the dwarves have portals. His own portals are minimal in
comparison, but we’re deviating. The dwarves lock their gates and mainly
raid through portals in churches,” she said. “And yes, they fight below
ground too.”
“Seems like cheating to use a portal,” I scoffed.
“There’s six thousand and six gods manipulating this planet. There
are rules to the portal, but you better believe the dwarves are not some
special nation. You don’t even need a champion or a high priestess to open
one, only a priest or priestess who manages the church upgrades,” Caitlyn
said.
Bell scuffed the floor, getting to her feet. She walked over to the
desk and stuck a hand to the surface.
“A hundred Zorta to build a shrine showing complete. Interesting,”
Bell said with furled brows. “Seems like a shitty shrine.”
“I get ten percent of that donation. The rest goes poof, back into the
land in random places. And yeah, that’s a level one. How much is the
portal?”
“A thousand Zorta to create the device with three places we can set
it up. A level one portal allows one hundred per trip. It doesn’t say where
the portal would go to exactly, or how we would get back,” Bell noted.
“There’s an interface once it’s built. The shrine desk will become a
map. Alright, you’ve followed everything so far, and I tried to not make it
overly complicated,” Caitlyn said, actually trying to be nice. “Can you
guess why there are portals and why you didn’t get to use one?”
I nodded, mulling over the question.
“I didn’t arrive in a church of yours, and I never saw a portal. If I
had to guess, they’re expensive and rare, a tool used by the powerful. Based
on what you’ve told us so far, there’s likely a lot of rules associated with
them,” I said.
“Exactly, and not really rules. More like limiters. It should come as
no surprise that when the old gods were trying to stir excitement in their
creations, they figured out a way to increase their travel times. And yes, the
portals predate the merging of the planets. Trust me, lessons were learned.
Needless to say, they were eventually moved into churches after the
cataclysm and have a bunch of limits regarding their use because of early
exploitations,” Caitlyn told us.
“I’ve never seen one,” Bell said. “And I’ve been in one of your
large churches.”
“Correct. My last head priestess, the daft woman, used her Zorta
donations to fuel her guard’s upgrade and not to pay tribute to me. Tarb
actually has one in the Duke’s private church. Portals are expensive and
generally built for and by nations, tribes, herds, and coalitions like the
minotaurs.
“As you know, the capitals normally push common warriors out to
the outskirts of their land. King Crensaa, of Nara for example, sends his
mercenary companies south, poking and prodding the Ostriva lands. Major
battles are played out on fields outside of cities, not on the other side of
portals, and that is intended.
“Now, King Crensaa has an elite set of troops. Let’s say a team of
Magus at three hundred strong, and he has a level three portal system. Three
hundred go in, one hundred secure the portal, and the other two hundred can
raid for eight days,” Caitlyn said.
I could tell she was waiting for one of us to ask why eight days.
“Level one starts at six days,” Bell said. “Alright, how does it
determine where to go?”
“That’s the downside. You can only select a region. Ikara Valley,
Seqa Mountains, and Nara Flatlands are all regions. You select where you
want to go, and a portal will generate somewhere off the beaten path.
“Now… Here's the kicker. If you go with a hundred, leave no
guards, and a hundred goblins run through the portal out of curiosity, the
portal closes. If you select the desert of Noxia to risk the ripe sand
scorpions and get delayed for ten days, the portal will close,” Caitlyn
said.
“Okay, it's a tool, a limited one, and it is an investment. There are
pros and cons to using it, but the main thing is that you get a cut if we sink
Zorta into this place,” I said.
“Pleasing a goddess normally also results in boons. I can’t stress
this point enough to you, Damien. Nordan is meant to be ruthless. Goblins
breed fast, humans only need six months to have a baby here, and a hydra
can grow to a thousand feet tall with time. Tear out your bleeding heart and
get to work,” Caitlyn scolded.
“Ah, not so fast. I’ll admit, you’re my god. Sorry, goddess, because
you are and cheering for you is in my best interest. The more you're
invested in me, the better my chances are that you do things like this,” I
said, gesturing to the fact that she was giving us something a god might
deem invaluable - their time. “However, my morals are mine, and I’ll not
become a murderhobo to sate your infinite thirst for power.”
“Good, good.” She tapped her fingers together in an evil way.
“Grow a backbone. You’ll need it, unless you get ten thousand Zorta and
betray the others. FYI, they die if you leave. Yermica would be another
hundred thousand,” Caitlyn laughed. “Alright, the final piece of what I
needed to cover with you. Arax and his eight champions.”
She handed me a new piece of paper.
1. Tarfee Region - Harvar Tosmee - Human - Male - Fire /
Lightning
2. Bree Region - Natta Seerseen - Harpy - Female - Wind /
Beastmaster
3. Dafor Region - Besso Ogrekin - Ogre - Female - Geomancer /
Healer
4. Dafor Region - Garn Ogrekin - Ogre - Male - Water / Healer
5. Unbi Region - Patric Rorn - Human - Male - Disease / Ice
6. Terna Region - Bellma Nagakin - Naga - Female Necromancer / Animal Healer
7. Terna Region - Neal Snori - Elva - Male - Assassin / Stoneskin
8. Karn Region - Toneba Lightfoot - Male - Healer / Arcane
“What!?” I blurted. “Toneba?”
“His soul left his body. He was an astute and devout Arax believer
to his core. Arax had a champion die and gave him a shot. I can’t say much
else because of the rules, but being in first place comes with a few
downsides. For example… We all get this list, but that’s it,” Caitlyn said.
My mind reeled from the implications. The top champions knew I
was in the area. I had to wonder if those scouting me were agents of Arax.
Yeah, they had to be.
“They don’t know where I am, do they?” I asked with worry.
“Your arrival was sanctioned, and Arax happened to notice, hence
your need to flee. Honestly, I thought you were so dead, but here you are. I
can’t tell you anything about your pursuit. You one hundred percent have a
god with eight champions hunting you. So, be wary at all times.” She
paused, eyeing me.
“Got it. Fortify the base or keep running?” I asked.
“I cannot answer that. As for this town, this is a sanctuary, and a
great place to expand upon if you were not being hunted. The centaur herd
is already fracturing to find mares. They didn’t prepare for a long siege or
bring a massive battering ram. Plus, the lead witness, to your supposed two
magics, is dead now,” Caitlyn said.
“Wait, they’ll just leave?” I asked, feeling a bit of a whipsaw. Dread
at other champions chasing me, glee at the fact the mighty centaur herd was
departing.
“Nope, not a chance. Some will call Seqa Valley home now. That is
the way of the herd, to splinter and reproduce anew. Don’t tell them it’s
dumb because they would prosper more if they set up a central government
instead of offshoot herds,” Caitlyn said.
“So, this list, it's just to signal out where these champions are?” I
asked.
She nodded with a thumbs up. Bell caught the reference and
smiled.
“Yup, and you better believe the 6,005 other gods are likely doing
what I am, at least looking at the list. Some will be sending their champions
after his. But… It has been working for him to have his information public.
He has racked up most of his lead by slaying champions. Just think about
that. You kill one of those eight, and you are more than halfway to your
ticket home. The best part is, unlike all the other champions, you know
what Toneba looks like,” Caitlyn said with a brow bounce.
I struggled to take her seriously, and I had to focus.
“Yeah, but there’s two ogres here with only healing,” I said, the
hope of an easy target, filling me with joy.
“Hell no. Think about two magus ogres healing each other while
you stabbed them a hundred times. They kick you once, and you're dead.
And they run a city of ogres. Nope, avoid them. Hell, avoid most of them.
The last three are somewhat new. Those should be your targets if you’re
feeling ballsy and wanting to risk death,” Caitlyn said, walking for the
church's entrance.
Bell and I stood, not sure what she intended.
“One last question, for each of you,” Caitlyn told us.
“I only need for him to donate ten thousand Zorta to you to become
a Head Priestess, and I’ll unlock divine magic?” Bell asked.
“9,900, and the church upgrades don’t count,” Caitlyn said, eyeing
me. “And Bell, if you flee to Tarb after, well, don’t and I can’t say why.”
I gathered my conviction and said, “If I decide my parents died and
would want me to be happy…” I rephrased my question to avoid getting
caught in asking something I didn’t need an answer to. “If I choose to stay
here with Tarla and the others, will you accept Zorta in exchange for
repairing those I care about and not have me replaced?” I asked.
“Absolutely. Your powers come at a cost to me. Pay me, and I’ll
never replace you. As for your friends, I can change Asha, like I said for ten
thousand Zorta. I need a champion anyway, but he won’t go. He’s started
writing a journal about you and Yermica gives great blowjobs. Good
enough that he prays to me about them, and I improved her body after a
giggle.
“But yes, you want to be a good friend and make him an elva again,
then do it. If it's just you and Tarla going to Earth, it’s much cheaper. Kill
Toneba, and you’re done,” Caitlyn said, mostly answering my question.
“Damien Moonguard, all a goddess wants is some Zorta, and baby, you’re
all out. Time to get to work.”
When she exited the door, a poof of magic obscured the exterior
light. Her stick figure fell, clattering to the stone floor, and left us with a lot
to think about.
CHAPTER 38
The Town of Seqa
“Can we talk about this?” Tarla asked, her foot stomp completely
adorable.
“Sure, after we clear the farm fields Nessio mentioned,” I said,
glancing around to see my army assembled for battle. “Apparently, there is
a prime target for us to cleanse that will help us unify with the residents and
help with long term food issues.”
“Must we do that now?” Tarla pouted, clearly wanting to talk about
how things went with Caitlyn.
I chuckled, my hearty laughter earning a stern glare. I swept the
fiery redhead off her feet, planting a giant kiss to her lips while we spun.
I stared down into her brown eyes, breaking the kiss. “Tarla, I’m
not leaving you behind, and I promise to fix Jark and Asha before we leave,
if we even do,” I said with an extra bit of joy.
She batted her lashes and kissed me harder.
Jark and Asha patted my back in appreciation, kinda ruining the
moment.
“Alright, we’ve been waiting to open the gates, and we’re ready
now that the boss is here,” Asha said. He snickered happily. “Let the man
breathe.”
“We’ll sit down over a nice dinner at a table,” I said, sighing at the
sheer thought of a table. Nee handed me some leather armor that I quickly
swapped into, modesty not an issue. “There’s a lot to talk about, but we
need to clear a rival out of the farm fields for long term food production.”
“I know, I just, it could wait, but I understand,” Tarla said, content
for the moment.
Bell arrived, handing me the reins to Charlie and the fancy lance. I
frowned, surprised she wasn’t in the saddle.
Bell said, “I’m not a battle mage, and never will be. Even if I get
my divine magic, it’s not offensive in nature. My home is in the church.”
“Yeah, but your water golem is improving, and you're growing in
power,” I said, trying to be positive. “Plus, your sword work and archery are
getting really good.”
She eyed me and shook her head. “I… I need a break from this,”
she said, waving her hands over the assembled army facing a portcullis and
ten foot high double doors. “Trust me, I’ll be wanting to gain some Zorta to
improve my church, but for now, I have a lot to process and prepare for.”
I accepted Charlie’s reins, fighting back the urge to convince her to
stay. Instead, I hopped onto the mount’s saddle, sticking the lance in the
resting hole by the foot and clamping it down as if we were going on a long
haul.
“Alright, who’s the…” I glanced around, trying to find our guide.
“…one with the information?”
A grumpy dwarf sputtered his lips, unhappy to be there. “I guess I
get to repeat myself. Before the cataclysm, the mine was a town. The town
needed food. Old mining fields were turned into growing farms.
“This farm has a magically created sun above it from the plasma
magic tree. An aggressive spider queen named Tela cracked a hole in the
wall, overrunning the expansion a few months ago. We sealed these doors
and left Queen Tela alone, the expansion not a necessity.”
“And what should we expect when we unseal these doors?” I asked,
pointing to the fortified gates.
“A farm field,” he said.
I frowned, wanting to smack the smug look off his face. “Imagine
I’ve never been below ground before.”
“We use cleared sections of mines. Mages create a fake sun to shine
light down on soil dragged down from the surface. A farm field
underground still needs fertilizing and watering. Expect goblins, gnomes,
dwarves, spiderlings, and such to be tilling the field and traps to be set at
the next door. There is a second door on the side of the farm,” the dwarf
said with a shrug. He waved a finger to add. “When Tela stole this from us,
she dug a side tunnel and over a hundred minions charged our lines. Most
of her army will not be in the field, and stealing it back shouldn’t be too
hard. Holding it after will be the struggle.”
“A hundred minions,” I said with a huff. “That’s a lot.”
“Yes, and we aren’t thralls hell-bent on pleasing a mistress. We
want to live and have other farms. So, we retreated, accepted the loss, and
sealed her off. Now, we check the walls for signs of digging, but it seems
she is content with her gains,” he said. “Anything else?”
“Thank you for your input,” I told him, nodding to Asha.
My army stood at the ready, knowing we had to eat, and this was
the start of expanding our new home. Trolls sat on mounts, eager to get into
the action. Behind them, goblins readied with their magic.
Asha ordered a skeletal troll to raise the portcullis. Perqueta and my
other centaur skeleton brandished dual swords, the vanguard of our
formation.
“I don’t want to keep fighting this Tela. We push for her head on a
pike and consolidate our gains,” I said sternly.
The dwarf who had been leaving turned and said, “Nessio won’t
like that.” I went to quibble, and he added, “Tela is a buffer to an even more
powerful queen, called Selma.”
“Great, I’ll kill her too,” I said.
He finally smiled, his face clearly not used to such an expression.
“Nessio would love that, and so would Zozo Hold. You’ll learn. Defeating
Tela won’t be some push over, and Selma rules tens of thousands. The
depths hold many horrors.”
“Do you not worry and find the goal of removing them common?”
Tarla asked.
“The town of Seqa and those who follow Nessio prefer to live over
fighting, but we certainly won’t complain if you start freeing up space and
those enthralled.”
“Shit, do we have extra rope for the ones we capture?” I asked.
“Let me get the lads if yer serious. They’ll only restrain and bind
the wounded or webbed feeders. They’ll not fight, not that you need it. You
got a bigger army, and she won’t be expecting you. Tela has arcane magic
that hurts, a lot, and you can’t be revived if it disintegrates you,” the dwarf
said, leaving after his warning.
Over the next ten minutes, I double checked our troops. Nessio
herself returned with a few dozen gruff looking dwarves. Each of them had
looped short ropes, not too different from a noose, but meant for quickly
binding hands or feet.
“The thralls won’t just lay down. They’ll fight like demons,
especially if they think their queen is in danger. However, a lot of those
enslaved by her are innocent and can be saved. Her children will likely
flee,” Nessio told us.
“And where will she reside?” I asked.
“There’s a chain of mines that run from here to Zozo. She’ll have
set up a nest somewhere between us and Selma. The upper chamber is the
spot you arrived in. That was for shipping iron south, not for running ore to
Zozo. I doubt we can reconnect this mine to that hold, but I do think Tela
can be defeated,” Nessio said.
“Any objections to removing her?” I asked.
“Taking this farm and only this farm means sealing a breach, and
the same number of guards from before will be needed, just one steep
deeper. If you conquer her lands, great, but if you leave or refuse to patrol
those new walls, we’re going to pull back our gains to be safe,” Nessio
said.
“Expanding requires a bigger military,” Tarla said, Nessio quickly
nodding in agreement.
“Okay, clear the farm, kill Tela to remove the threat, and gain the Z.
Then we retreat to seal the farm off?” I offered.
“Yeah, Selma won’t rush to fight us if there is free land. She will in
due time, if her other threats aren't too great,” Nessio said. “Tela won’t be a
pushover, but your army should be bigger or else I wouldn’t be here.”
I grabbed the lance out of the holder, nodding to Asha once again.
“Open the gate,” I commanded.
The skeletal troll spooled the wheel. The clanking sound of chain
winding up drowned out the nervous shuffles. I felt my stomach tighten,
watching Asha hop into his ram’s saddle. A final clang told us the portcullis
had locked into position.
The dwarves trotted forward, waving back my skeletons as they
went to move the brace. This freed up more warriors for the initial charge.
With a collective heave, the huge steel beam lifted out of brackets.
The dozen dwarves carried the brace out of the way, and another set jerked
the ancient doors open.
Bright sunlight crashed through the opening doors. Gnomes and
dwarves tended a farm field that stretched miles in the boxy cavern. A
glowing orb rested at a pyramid point in the ceiling. A middle road
segregated the lush green vegetables.
At the far end of the hall, the massive doors were wide open,
revealing a dark tunnel that continued on. A wagon that the workers filled
rested in the middle of the space, and for a brief moment, an eerie silence
settled over the soon to be battlefield.
The second the gap in the doors opened wide enough, our cavalry
charged. The thundering hooves of almost twenty mounted soldiers echoed
in the large space. The plainly garbed workers fixated on us and hissed,
swapping from using tools for farming to trying to use them as weapons.
Red eyes. Each of the twenty plus thralls had glowing red eyes that
burned into my soul.
Dirt covered faces snarled with unbridled hatred. Their emotions
overcame any reality or sense of wisdom. None fled, grouped, or retreated
to a defensible position.
The scattered thralls countered our charge with one of their own.
“Disable if possible,” I shouted, feeling confident.
Our forces had more cavalry than they had farm workers, and on
top of that, we still had a hundred goblins with magic in support.
Charlie bolted around the main formation, tearing up the farm field
on a direct path for a female dwarf.
“Slow down, you damned horse,” I shouted, adjusting my shield to
orient toward the target.
The dwarf shrieked unnaturally, her beady red eyes glared with
hatred, and she prepared to throw a bucket at me.
“Charlie, she can be saved,” I reminded the warhorse. “She only
has a bucket.”
The bucket soared out of her hands, fresh carrots distracting both
Charlie and me with their widening spread.
Crack!
My forearm burned in pain when the shield absorbed the bucket’s
impact.
“Buckets hurt,” I grumbled.
Charlie didn’t slow, shouldering the poor lass.
His immense power and strong hit sent her flying, tumbling into a
roll across the field.
We never slowed, knowing someone else would likely bind her
from where she lay.
The magical sun beat down a warm heat, and at the back opening, I
saw my first spiderling; a male with four legs that was tiny compared to a
female, closer in size to a goblin.
His form held no back spider type torso, but he still had eight eyes.
This variation froze, trying to decide what to do as he approached
the entry to the farm field from the back of the cavern. I could see him
glance over his shoulder and then to the portcullis on this side.
Did he flee, or did he try to be a hero? Indecision clearly racked his
brain.
Charlie increased his speed, leaving a gnome thrall chasing with a
hoe. Charlie wanted that spiderling more than he wanted an apple. He
grunted, snorting as he outpaced the rams still trying to catch up. We
diverted off the fields and onto the road.
“Charlie, I’m the leader, not the guy in the front,” I shouted.
The spiderling found his resolve, trying to kill me before fleeing. A
side arm hurl of a blade sent it twirling rapidly for my demise. I raised my
shield, taking the side of the blade off the top of the metal edge. The dagger
pinged off the shield, soaring high behind us.
Charlie barreled on, oblivious to my tug on his reins. We left the
main farm field for a long tunnel with a slight bend that only was thirty feet
wide. A few glowing orbs hung from wall mounts, and the spiderling
tripped under one. The constant back and forth checks over his shoulder
were likely his demise.
Realizing I didn’t have a choice short of jumping off, I leveled the
lance, aiming for the spiderling’s small frame. The horse neared, looming
over the spiderling until the small frame disappeared under hooves.
Between lots of screaming, the snap of breaking bones echoed in
the hallway. I held on for dear life as Charlie stomped the corpse into mush.
I dug my heels into his ribs hard, and the stallion flared an angry
look at me.
“Yeah, you big oaf, we go back,” I said angrily.
He huffed, eyeing me with a nod, but it was too late.
Loose grit trembled below us. The skittering of a hundred legs
echoed with an increasing roar. The sound of hooves smacking stone behind
us intensified. I dropped the lance, ripped my sword free, and gave a battle
cry in the dark tunnel.
A ten foot tall spider queen led the charge, her face a mix of shock
and glee at seeing a single rider with his horse. The shock turned to fear
when our cavalry entered the tunnel at a full sprint.
Spiderlings rotated up the wall, trying to fan out. Asha and the
charging rams caught up to our side first, and Charlie thankfully waited to
join them before bolting at the enemy.
Tela slowed, letting her minions swarm in front of her. Her infantry
consisted of dwarves, gnomes, a whole lot of spiderlings, and a few trolls,
each of them glaring at us with red eyes.
I saw no goblins, and each of her soldiers carried crude weapons
with minimal armor. The enemy charge faltered with their Mistress falling
back. That and the cavalry in the tight tunnel at a full charge was going to
cause a wave of pressure thralls on foot simply couldn’t counter.
The gap closed, and the loud snorts of animals barely sounded over
the clash of running hooves.
Charlie crunched a dwarf, surging through the smaller enemy. As
much as I wanted to save these thralls, their sheer numbers prevented
anything other than savagery. I swiped my sword down into the neck of a
troll.
At the same time, a mining pick crashed off my shield.
The blade ripped free, barely still in my grasp. Charlie, the damn
demon, trampled a gnome, pushing hard for Tela. The pumping legs of the
mount ignored the stabs and jabs of the enemy infantry.
My blade lashed out, diving into a gnome’s skull. I yanked the
sword out with the horse’s momentum aiding me. A quick slice removed a
dwarf’s arm.
I went from leaning right to shifting left, seeing a set of spiderling
surging through the condensing enemy. Daggers shot forward, and I
countered their jabs with slices or dismemberment.
The cavalry continued to surge into the infantry ranks, the pressure
pushing the enemy to retreat, still hadn’t been halted.
Charlie slowed slightly, deciding to run on the heads of the enemy.
He jumped, pushing down smaller foes to keep his rush to the
enemy boss going.
Queen Tela fled, her action not going unnoticed. Her minions
wanted to protect her, swapping between focusing on us and turning to join
her.
“Retreat you fools!” Tela commanded, and I knew she wanted to
race to a trap or a fallback point.
Charlie was faster than her, and the crazy horse bit one of her eight
legs, clamping down hard. The sound of his hooves being dragged
intensified, and he stomped backwards as she trudged forward.
The enemy infantry fled my cavalry, completely unprepared for a
charge in the tight tunnel. A fireball singed my hair, twirling over my
shoulder.
The intense orange and red magic splashed off a golden white
shield of arcane magic. The fireball washed down, burning Charlie’s neck.
This finally caused the horse to panic, letting go of the spider
queen’s leg.
An arcane bolt zipped through the spot the horse’s head had just
been, disintegrating a red eyed gnome. Tela burst free of her minions,
scampering for freedom with a wounded leg. A green aura washed over her,
allowing her to flee with haste.
Charlie neighed unhappily, spinning to deliver a furious kick into a
dwarf’s chest, surely killing the thrall. The troops slowed, letting the enemy
flee, and my army consolidated. The fighting ended except for those who
found themselves trapped behind our line.
“Healer for the horse,” I cried out over the sound of the defiant
thralls fighting their capture.
A goblin walked under the ram wall, healing Charlie. I grinned,
seeing that most of the anger etched in the horse’s demeanor faded with the
pain.
Nessio arrived, helping bind a captured gnome. The dwarves of
Seqa didn’t play nice, beating the thralls into submission before they could
recover. I surveyed the scene from up high and had to admit, Tela made a
big mistake in counter attacking so quickly.
The dead littered the tunnel, allowing blood to pool. The restrained
thralls tried to bite dwarves through gags, and the last defiant dwarf
succumbed to a group effort.
We paused our assault, organizing now that our charge had faltered.
I let the infantry form in front while others recovered, were healed, or
needed a breather.
“Minions or Zorta, Boss?” Asha asked.
“Zorta for the spiderlings. I’ll pick up the dwarves, goblins, and
gnomes that I can,” I said, getting off Charlie. “Come here, minion.”
Perqueta pranced over to me, his memories suppressed. I loved that
he eagerly obeyed. I handed him the reins to the wild warhorse. “Give this
valiant steed to Bell. Let her know he is to be well groomed and fed extra
rations for marvelous work.”
Charlie neighed happily, his eye almost giving me a wink with
pride.
When they faded into the organizing army, Asha said, “That horse
is terrible.”
“The worst,” I agreed. “But he is supposed to be an alpha asshole.
His purpose in life is to kill, and he is fierce. I just can’t be the idiot in the
front.”
“I’ll get you a wagon mare for the next fight,” Jark said with a
snickering laugh. “He’s bloody fast and needs a berserker or a fine woman
to handle him.”
Tarla joined the banter, adding, “That horse is so proud of himself
at the moment. He thrills for combat. Speaking of which, I saw you slicing
and dicing, putting those sword skills to good use.”
Her proud tone elicited a smirk. I kissed her cheek in thanks,
complimenting her on her fireball.
Nee arrived, breaking up the joy because she carried a dead goblin
with a belly bump. The cycle of fast strivian reproduction would be coming
due any day.
“I said no pregnant warriors,” I grumbled, my arms sagging. “What
happened?”
“She was helping tie up fallen thralls, and a random dagger fell
from the sky,” Nee said sadly, handing me a dagger I recognized.
“Alright, I take it we’re out of revivals?” I asked, knowing I could
revive, but it would have to wait.
Nee nodded sadly, and I patted her shoulder.
Nessio finished helping the dwarves corral the last of the thralls.
She walked over to me at our impromptu meeting and said, “Few things.
Nee, go into town and find a dwarf in brown robes named Brother Sello.
He’ll revive your goblin.”
“Thank you, Queen Nessio,” Nee said, taking her leave.
“Tela will have retreated to lock herself behind a bunch of traps.
Her thralls have to eat, meaning they’ll starve and die if you keep her
penned in,” Nessio told us.
“Yeah, that hurts both sides,” I said, folding my arms. “What would
you think the cost is to get by the traps?”
“If you send in your minions first, probably not many will die
forever, and the fighting will be rough. You won, though. There’s thirty
thrall dead, another thirty being led away. She is probably down to sixty
troops. If you contain her until she has no choice but to charge into your
trap, she’s dead,” Nessio said.
“Okay, I thought you said a stalemate hurts us both,” I replied.
“She’ll take a deal. We need to honor our word, though. Let me
offer her safe passage to Selma for sanctuary – who happens to be her sister.
It’ll embarrass Tela, but she’ll take the offer,” Nessio said, and I scoffed at
the notion. She raised a hand defensively and continued, “I’ll offer her free
passage with her spiderlings only. The rest go to us. That means the Town
of Seqa adds more defenders and residents.”
“Can we just kill them when they come out?” I asked, and a dwarf
gasped.
“No,” Nessio said. “Just… no.”
“I need Z more than freeing dwarves or humans or gnomes,” I said,
seeing Yermica approach with the bag of orbs. “How many?”
“It’s not good, Boss. Most can be revived, and those who can’t can
become minions and revived later,” Yermica said, frowning when I pointed
to the sack. “Eighteen Zorta, Boss.”
“We need a thousand for a damn portal,” I groaned.
“A portal? You’re going to upgrade Caitlyn’s church?” Nessio
asked with surprise.
“Yeah, I have more than a few enemies. A safe way to have random
excursions is probably smarter than fighting the hordes in the mines. Maybe
we can mine in here, go to a different city through the portal, and trade,” I
said, thinking out loud.
“Would you consider a loan?” Nessio asked, a mischievous grin
spreading on her face.
“Here we go,” one of the dwarves said, earning a hard glare from
the spider queen. “She’ll take ten percent, not the twenty she starts at. Now,
go make a deal with Tela. She has my son. You’re welcome. I am going to
help the lads seal the farm. What an idiot! Mining in a warzone.”
The surly dwarf left, not even ensuring we tried to get his son.
“I like him,” Tarla said with a smile.
My lovely lady, always the positive type.
“Hand me the eighteen Zorta,” I told Yermica.
I opened the bag, found my center, and tried to connect to all the
orbs. Each orb shimmied, accepting my connection. I sighed in frustration,
wishing I had tried this after the ogre battle.
Consume all 17.77 Zorta (YES) - (NO)
I selected yes and then went into my character sheet.
Name: Damien Moonguard
Race: Human
Affiliation: Ostriva
Zorta: 47.323
Nordan Score: 255,500
Ostriva Score: 371,100
Location: Seqa Hills
Magic Type: Healer
Healer Level: 8
Magic Type 2: Necromancer
Necromancy Level: 4
Necromancer Minions: 35/150
Fighting Level: Pathetic Plus
Mana: 145/155
Mana Recharge: 6
Strength: 8
Stamina: 7
Dexterity: 6
Constitution: 9
Willpower: 8
Cultivation: 14
Intelligence: 30
Wisdom: 30
Charisma: 24
Tracking: 7
Endurance: 9
Perception: 13
Burst: 7
Reflex: 7
Healing: 7
Melee Combat: 6
Aim: 2
Hunger: 4
Thirst: 2
Aging: 59 years until death.
“How many other healers do you have?” I asked.
“Four, but none will be free,” Nessio said.
I didn’t object, merely asked, “The price?”
“A Zorta per revive.”
“Half,” I countered. “Only because we’re limited on funds. A
normal Z is fine, but these aren’t even my troops we’re reviving.”
“I’ll split the cost then. I’ll select two dwarves and two gnomes,”
Nessio said, walking to the lined up dead.
“That’s fine. The goblins are cheaper to raise also. Set aside the
four you want to revive,” I said.
“Twenty-six dead. Will you need me to get Bell for Z?” asked
Asha.
I grumbled. “They better be good at cultivating from the
mountain.” I knew I didn’t directly answer him, mainly because it made
sense to check first.
I chanted, “Death is fickle, and not your end. Death is fickle, and
not your end. Death is fickle and not your end.”
A pulse of black aura shot out from me, connecting to the dead
thralls. They immediately welcomed my touch, and I wasn’t sure why.
“They submitted immediately,” I muttered.
“You’re a Necro Lord. A powerful one. Not many have more than a
few minions,” Nessio said. “And that is why I’ll do ten percent on your
loan. You’ll pay it back because you probably already have a hundred Zorta
in minions. Plus, I should have installed a portal ages ago, but I was scared
I’d lose the city to Selma. I still may.”
“Doubtful that Selma will defeat us as we grow,” I said
encouragingly. “Give me a moment. Last time I did this, reapers fell from
the sky.”
“It was super awesome,” Tarla said, pinching my butt proudly.
I smirked, checking my display.
You have connected to a variation of dead beings and creatures.
Seven gnomes, twelve goblins, and eleven dwarves. Would you like
claim (ALL) (GROUP) (SINGLE)
I selected (GROUP) and my vision shifted. All the dead were in
green. I removed the four that were set aside and tapped (CLAIM).
Claiming all the selected dead as minions will result in you
earning Ostriva and Nordan points. Do you wish to proceed? (YES) (NO)
I continued.
You selected to claim 26 minions. Consume 46.299 Zorta to
summon these creatures as minions of the undead. Confirm (YES) (NO)
I finalized my choice with a sigh. “Down to a single Z. Stand back
from the dead.”
Reapers arrived, slithering through the walls and walking through
the living as if they didn’t exist. The team of reapers went to work,
throwing down the dead until their flesh smacked against the hard stone.
Ghoulish hands reached up, striping the bones until they glistened white.
The horrific process completed quickly with Nessio stunned.
“Thanks,” the reaper who had saluted me the first time said.
I wanted to ask him about a million questions when he walked into
the wall, vanishing. A shocked silence ensued, and my minions stood at the
ready, awaiting orders.
A grating sound from the ceiling revealed a trap door sliding open.
“I surrender,” a voice from above said.
Eight eyes peered down, a crossbow at the ready.
“You built a second tunnel?” Nessio asked. “Impressive.”
“Not as impressive as a Necro Lord and a portal being built. I’d
rather serve the handsome man than my sister, and I’d happily chip in to
relocate through a portal. How about it?” Tela asked in a positive tone.
I gulped, not sure how to reply.
Tarla said, “I’m Mrs. Necro Lord. There’s a hierarchy, rules, and a
tribute required if you were to join us. Not that we’re recruiting.”
“I’ll answer to the Boss and his wife. I’ll listen to the Boss’s rules
and give you my minions to command. As for tribute, I have this lovely
body you can ravish,” Tela teased seductively. “Or, we can build the portal,
and I’ll move along with only my spiderlings.”
“He wants Z, not another sex partner,” Tarla said, sticking her
hands to her hips.
“Can I keep a breeder at least?” Tela asked. “I need a troll at the
very least.”
“Retreat to your home and set free your thralls. We will discuss
terms after, over a nice meal. It’s been a while since we were able to dine
peacefully,” Nessio said, and I cued into the not so subtle hint.
“Family?” Asha asked.
“She’s my aunt,” Nessio said. “She won’t answer to me because of
it, but if you let her in, you can trust her as long as you keep her happy and
powerless. I’d welcome the combined forces, and if things go bad, she can
-”
“Go through the portal!” Tela said in delight. “That’s what I really
want, and I’ll be willing to give up this shitty corner in a mine to be a
mighty spider queen in a forest.”
“Yes, I need to have my own conversation. Release your minions
and meet us at the farm. There’s more skeletons in my army than you can
kill now,” I said. “Help pay for the portal, and I’ll promise you the first trip
through, unharmed.”
“As the Necro Lord commands,” Tela said.
“Damien works,” I said, turning to sling an arm around Tarla.
“Now, let me tell you all about visiting Caitlyn, and then we can think up
some plans.”
CHAPTER 39
The Town of Seqa
“And... the portal’s finally gone,” Yermica said, joining us for
training.
She grabbed a bow, heading to the small archery range. A series of
goblins fired crossbows, the snap of their weapons were as constant as the
clang of swords.
I practiced sword maneuvers against Jark in the courtyard of our
estate.
Inside the walled perimeter, a large hosting space had been
converted into a training area. At some point, I’d want to put grass or
something over the rough stone floor. I paused our dueling to set my
practice sword into a rack, glancing up at the large building.
This was one of the few large manors inside the town. Across from
us, Nessio lived in the larger estate meant to host dignitaries. The other
large estate remained vacant for now, like much of the town.
I picked this one to occupy because of this training area and a huge
second floor balcony that wrapped the entire building. After all those years
in tiny apartments and then living outside for months, I wanted the space,
even if we were in a cave. The ability to go out of an enclosed room and
onto a balcony was delightful.
I stood by my decision too. Almost. Two weeks previous, I had
moved myself and my friends into the estate. Having a bed, a kitchen,
and… it all was glorious. Settling down into a sparsely furnished home
became everything I dreamed about after months of camping.
I showered daily, I napped after hard training, and I was finally able
to read. Two weeks seemed like a lifetime, and in some cases, a well-earned
vacation. However, now that Tela was gone, there was a whole lot of work
ahead.
We borrowed five hundred Zorta from Nessio and learned she
borrowed some of it from the common dwarf, gnome, troll, and goblin. We
applied a hundred from the ogres and Tela delivered four hundred Zorta and
forty thralls that had to be detoxed from her milk.
A week ago, the portal had shimmied to life in the church, allowing
Tela to leave with her minions. We played around with the portal, keeping it
under guard, and not exploiting the area as promised. In theory, the portal
should have closed after a week, which Yermica just confirmed. Meaning,
we could start the process of building up our base and collecting Zorta to
pay Caitlyn.
My fated conversation with the others about reviving them went
smoothly. There wasn’t much to debate besides who wanted to come to
Earth. The reality was that the costs were just too high to take anyone
besides me and Tarla.
After we laid everything out, the math and the sheer numbers
resulted in Jark wanting to stay. Asha was conflicted, but due to the high
cost, wanted to stay also. Tarla cared about going where I went, her desire
to stay at my side resolute.
The two of us grew closer and everything was fantastic until I
started to become concerned. She brought up children, I blanched, and we
had our first fight.
Obviously, I should have cued into the fact that babies come from
sex and there were no plan B pills or many forms of birth control. I didn’t
think she was pregnant because we were taking precautions, but… it was
possible, and I absolutely was in denial.
The tension had led to some strife with her not backing down about
wanting kids and me not feeling ready. That led me to welcoming the
distraction of our first portal finally closing and us getting out of the house
for a new adventure.
“Alright, it’s game time. Everyone get ready for a fight,” I said,
leaving the training grounds to exit the estate wall.
Nessio left her slightly larger estate to join me on the road. “Going
to earn some Zorta?” she asked, knowing the answer.
We walked down the wide street with residential homes actually
occupied in this district. Linens stretched along sinew, hung out to dry. A
gaggle of kids played a game of kickball, and the fountain - way at the end
of the road - spewed water in a dazzling display that never grew old.
“We have some additional testing to do, that’s for certain,” I said
happily, adjusting my armor to allow it to breathe at the neck. “Yeah, I’m
wanting to get some Zorta at the very least. Any news from the delegation
sent to Selma?”
“You mean giving up most of the gains from Tela to sign a peace
treaty? No, no word yet,” Nessio said.
Nessio and I butted heads often as well. She preferred to try to hold
Tela’s turf while I’d rather focus on holding the massive city that could
house ten times the residents it had. The Town of Seqa was huge, allowing
for plenty of space.
With the double farms on the north side of town in our control, food
wasn’t an issue. We simply didn’t need to fight for those tunnels and
additional farms. A friendly neighbor made more sense to me, and we even
planned on using the upper landing as a field with fresh soil dragged in
through the portal.
Which led to the whole issue of Seqa.
It was underdeveloped but had great bones. We needed a parsing
mage to form a bank, more ore to craft weapons, fresh timber to build
furniture, farm animals, and the list went on.
All that had to happen through the portal until we could become
powerful enough to fight the threats outside our gates.
A smile peeled back my teeth. I was eager to adventure again. We
turned down a clean side road to see Caitlyn’s church. A crowd of warriors
mulled in front of the doors, not all of them my minions or soldiers.
“I see a few of the dwarves wish to risk life for riches,” Nessio said
in disappointment.
“Ah, I hired most of them. But a few, yeah, they’re here to try and
improve their lot. Lumpy is going to beat most of them, but they may find
goblins, feral hounds, or whatnot. I don’t even know what regions are open
this week,” I said with a shrug.
Opening the Tela’s resettlement portal had taught us a valuable
lesson. The portal system wasn’t consistent. For instance, I couldn’t go to a
spot in the forest outside Tarb every week. We had sixty locations to pick
from last time, and we held our end of the bargain, letting Tela select a
swamp as her new home.
Now that her portal closed, we could generate our own gateway to
a different region. The church's doors were sealed shut, magically opening
at my approach.
Ha, benefits of being a champion, I suppose.
Bell and Tarla froze, seeing me stride in. The ladies halted their
conversation that likely revolved around me.
“All minions, assemble at the church,” I ordered quietly, knowing
they could hear my command from anywhere. “Afternoon, ladies. I hope I
didn’t interrupt something.”
“You mean like planning how to make you sleep on a couch we
don’t own?” Tarla asked with a genuine smile. “No, I’m just venting in
private about your lack of wanting to grow our family.”
“I… I do enjoy every morning and evening with you, Tarla. Alas, I
understand your frustration, and I promise to talk it out with you,” I said.
There clearly was a disconnect from the California lifestyle of
waiting ten years to have a child and the Nordan way. My answer deflated
the tension, and I hugged Tarla.
“See,” Bell added with a smile.
I kissed Tarla’s cheek, and she reddened. Leaving her side, I walked
over to the portal, seeing the square frame with images of Caitlyn engraved
onto the stone. Caitlyn teased or murdered in every depiction with her
likeness in different species.
Asha arrived, and we left the murals for the main shrine. Bell
activated the list before we could arrive, and the interface populated on the
desk surface.
A miniature map stretched across the space, depicting the macro
version of Nordan. You could see cities, but they were tiny brown specs.
The terrain shifted just as it would on Earth. Rolling hills with sporadic
trees. A whole lot of forests dominated the map. A few mountainous
regions were devoid of all cover, much like a postcard from Ireland.
Rivers split the terrain with small to large lakes claiming swaths of
the map. We were regulated to an unknown continent because I saw no
oceans.
“I don’t know this area,” Asha said, crossing his arms and tapping
his chin. He was ancient, knowing the land in our region better than all the
others. If he said this was foreign, then it was. He folded his arms, studying
the sixty blue dots on the map that were randomly spread out. “Base
building, trading, or fighting?”
“The longer we hide, and the better we shore up at home, the better
our odds of becoming stronger,” I said.
“What… No kill them all attitude?” Nessio asked with a scoff.
I frowned at her, seeing her size had shrunk inside the church. That
was how the portal dealt with giants. It magically converted them inside the
church. Not that a spider queen was a giant, but she certainly would
struggle to get her rear end through the single door.
“Who knows what we’ll find, but I certainly want to take our first
voyage as a simpler endeavor. We have over fifty newborn goblins, and yes,
we have debt. I want to avoid trading for today. Gathering raw materials
sounds the best.” Shifting from Nessio, I told the magical display, “A
strivian forest only.”
Under half the blue icons went away.
“Near a river but not a lake. Deep in the forest but not near a
strivian city,” I said.
Only eight blue dots remained.
“Zoom in, individually,” Bell ordered.
The blue dots became blue squares, highlighting sections of the
forest. This was where we could see if small villages were indicated, and if
a series of troll farms were present. The troll outposts like the one we had
raided before could only be seen on these zoom-ins.
Only two showed no signs of life. I selected the even terrain over
the sloping.
“Get the hand carts ready,” I said to Jark and Asha.
The portal system was silly in a few ways, and luckily, we had
tested a couple things prior to that day.
To start, I had a minion distance limiter. The moment a minion
crossed without me, there was an hour before that minion would turn to
dust. Sure, I’d be refunded the cost, but the minion was abandoned, and if
that happened to Jark or Asha, they died.
The next issue was actually going through.
“Opening now,” Bell said.
The portal surged to life with a golden power shimmering over the
central area. I waited for the room to crowd with eager minions. Lumpy
weaved between my feet, rubbing on my legs. Animals counted as a portal
movement, and that meant no Charlie, at least for this trip.
A bright 100 at the top of the frame pulsed.
“Centaurs, in you go,” I ordered.
They charged into the golden shimmer, disappearing.
The bright 100 shifted to 98.
We could open a portal once a week, so they weren’t coming back
anytime soon. I waited for the notification.
Treev Lanclin and Perquata Moonguard will be abandoned in
one hour if they do not return to within range of their Necromancer.
We waited to ensure they didn’t die. For a half hour, my minions
stood ready to cross. Time passed so slowly it became tedious.
The shimmering portal produced a pop sound, and a dead fox
skittered across the church floor. The red and white furred animal came
with a trap attached to its leg - the creation was crude and not one of ours.
“Yes,” I exclaimed, and the others cheered. “There’s going to be
something hunting. Let’s hope it’s goblins. Secure the other side for my
arrival.”
After defeating Tela, I had fifty-one minions. Every one of my
minions stormed the breach, carrying camping supplies for a week. A few
wheeled in handcarts specifically created for this adventure.
My army of goblins and trolls were left behind to process what we
threw through the portal, which had to be thrown, picked up, and then
moved. The system wasn’t perfect, but if you had both sides working, it
could get a lot done. I hated that we couldn’t wheel dirt over and had to toss
it in.
Just like the dead fox had been hurled into the golden wall.
A fox was great for snagging smaller animals, and I decided to
resurrect the little guy.
I closed my eyes, finding my center. I reached out to the fox’s aura
and felt an immediate connection. Likely, my high cultivation would no
longer struggle with these small claims.
Claim or Consume.
Claiming the fox as a minion will result in occupying a
necromancer slot. Do you wish to proceed? (YES) - (NO)
You selected to claim the fox. Consume .329 Zorta to summon
this creature as a minion of the undead. Confirm (YES) - (NO)
I selected yes, fully expecting the minion to be worth the cost. The
black magic enveloped the dead fox. Ghoulish hands reached up out of the
stone floor to consume the flesh. I kinda hoped for a reaper, but none
arrived.
When the spell finished, I sent the minion through the portal.
The 49 nine dropped down to 48. The dead didn’t count, but the
undead did.
Bell arrived at my side, handing me my personal ruck. The bag
with wooden framing was loaded with enough supplies for a week-long
excursion.
“We got things here. Tarla will be over before nightfall,” Bell said,
letting me know she wasn’t coming. Tarla worked on her cartography,
building a map of the region. Something we decided to do going forward
was to detail our journeys for those seeking information in the future.
“Keep Lumpy safe, please, and I prefer him as an actual cat.”
“Yeah, well, he’s our main earner, he may not -”
A dead goblin arrived through the portal. We… we weren’t taking
in more goblins, except on the last day. I wanted to save the last 25 of the
100 return slots home for new recruits. Since the goblin was dead, he didn’t
count.
“I don’t have enough Z to pick him up, and my revival spell is on
cooldown,” I said with a sigh.
Nee patted my arm. “We got this one. And before you get grumpy,
he’ll be put to hard work while cultivating a daily amount until his revival
is paid for.”
“Life over death,” I said.
“Life over death,” the room repeated.
“Yer a good Lord, Damien,” Nee said, taking the male’s body with
her.
Sticks flew into the church from the portal and trolls darted in to
extract them.
“So it begins,” I whispered. I turned to Nessio and said, “Send the
dwarves through in an hour, please.”
I hoisted my camping supplies and drifted over to a reading Tarla.
She studied a map book, likely trying to figure out where our portal was
compared to the display.
We shared a tender kiss before I stepped into the portal.
A surreal feeling overwhelmed my senses, like a golden snotty
slime covered me. I had been in a Jello pool before and that was the closest
I could compare the experience to.
∞∞∞
Actual sunlight blasted through a tall canopy. Massive yellow
woods dwarfed everything, and as my neck stretched back, I realized these
trees must be at least five hundred feet tall.
In between three immense trunks, my minions built a fire pit,
establishing a base camp not far from the portal. I sucked in the warmth
from a random ray that reached the forest floor.
Natural sunshine, how I missed you.
I set my camping bag down, untying the tent pieces to start. Over
the next hour, I established a tent for two. This included sorting my
bedding, end stand, books, and magical candle holder. I even prepped the
bowls.
By the time I finished, the dwarves had arrived, adding their
structures to the growing encampment. Most of my minions cleared the area
of deadwood to toss into a pile or back to Seqa.
Eventually, we would arrive with caltrops and an assortment of
easy to establish defenses.
I surveyed the camp’s organization, enjoying the fresh air. A
distracting motion caught my attention. Lumpy pranced happily over to me
with a small bunny.
“Perfect. I just started the afternoon stew,” I said pleasantly to
Lumpy, stoking the fire by waving a bush.
A dwarven water mage had filled the cauldron with only a slight
grumble.
I accepted Lumpy’s offering and ingested the orb. The large feline
returned to hunting while I dressed the rabbit. I tossed the skin into a pile
and dropped the flayed meat into the stew.
My newly minted fox brought me a field mouse, and I chucked the
body, with the orb still attached, into the portal for that side to sort. I didn’t
pout, or sigh. I already accepted that most of our gains today would be
going toward the city and not me.
A few minutes later, my two big centaurs brought me a female live
turtle creature. It was heavy, slow, and appeared to be fairly dumb.
“That’s a loggersnapper. Careful with your fingers under the shell’s
lip. See how they’re carrying it from the bottom?” A dwarf asked. I nodded,
watching the turtle. “It has poisoned spikes under the shell where you’d
normally stick your fingers to lift the heavy creature.”
“And what does it do?” I asked.
“Umm, besides eat leaves and walk around slowly? Not sure,” the
dwarf said with a shrug, returning to gathering sticks.
I huffed, knowing I couldn’t simply go back and forth to ask. I went
into my tent, grabbing a charcoal pencil and a piece of paper. I asked for
information on a loggersnapper and then tossed the paper into the portal.
I asked the centaurs to set the turtle down while I waited. The
skeleton fox returned with a rabbit and a bird while I cooked lunch. The
rabbit went into the stew, and the bird went toward debt.
A half hour later, a note returned, saying to kill the turtle, harvest
the Z, and then they’ll turn it into soup as well as a shield. I walked over to
the turtle, and it knew I was going to kill it somehow, sucking itself into the
shell.
I must have stabbed into the shell a dozen times before the colorful
orb populated.
Claim or Consume.
Consume Zorta (YES) - (NO)
Consume or Drop .771 Zorta
I selected (Drop) and collected the orb, tucking it into a pouch
around my neck. I left the turtle where it was, not willing to handle it and
end up being poisoned. The fox returned with another bird that I tossed in.
A series of shovels clanged, landing on the forest floor and being
ejected from Seqa. Next came the hand saws and two person saws. I walked
over to the tools, grabbing a handsaw.
I had given orders to not dig directly near the portal until the last
day. That way if we had to flee, we could do so easily and not fall into a pit
or a trench.
A few saplings fought to grow between the mighty trees. I grabbed
the first young tree at the base, using the trunk to balance my kneeling. The
large sapling almost tipped from my weight, being looser in the soil then I
expected. Setting the saw down, I pushed against the small tree, bringing it
down. The thin wood would work great for baskets or baby cribs for the
goblins.
I actually had no idea how it would be used. Instead of worrying
about it, I dragged the small tree into the portal, careful not to touch the
golden material myself. About half way in, the other side caught on and
dragged the tree in for me.
Foxy, the skeleton fox, returned with an owl type creature.
I kneeled beside the fox, accepting his catch.
When he bolted off, it didn’t take very long to realize this was his
fifth kill to Lumpy’s one. This was about survival, getting home, and having
enough Zorta in case Arax found me. I’d have to take Bell being angry
because my survival was in the balance.
“Lumpy, come to me,” I ordered.
I absorbed the .091 Zorta from the owl, tossing the body into the
portal. I went back to tree tipping while I waited for the jenix cat.
The crews digging up soil carted over their first batch. The wheels
creaked loudly and the aroma of freshly dug dirt hung in the air heavily.
The two dwarves rolled the cart in, leaving the extra-long handles on our
side. A few minutes later, the cart was mostly pushed back onto our side.
The dwarves grabbed the cart and left to dig more soil. A shifting
crew in Seqa had pushed their dirt across to another cart. Moving fresh
forest dirt would cost insane amounts of labor, but that was what expanding
meant, hard work.
Lumpy arrived after I shoved in a second tree. We hit a backup for
shifting goods, and I saw he arrived empty handed, figuratively.
“Alright, my minion friend. I forgot to ask Caitlyn about making
you a real cat again, but I promise I will pester her about converting you
from minion to a real cat. Time for you to get an upgrade,” I said with a sad
smile.
With a petting stroke, I connected to my minion.
Minion: Lumpy.
Health 14/14. Level 2.
Sentient Cat.
Fighting Abilities: Highly proficient.
Memories intact.
Upgrade Available. Consume 155/58 mana and 1.7 Zorta (YES)
- (NO)
“Did Bell feed you Z? Maybe you cultivate on your own because I
know your Z requirement was higher before,” I said, scratching his ear.
“Lumpy, suppress memories.”
The cat’s eyes glazed over, and his purring instantly stopped.
“I bet it’s your kills that feed you or something. Anyway, sorry, I’ll
make you a cat again soon.”
The large cat didn’t say anything, merely standing there waiting for
orders.
I selected yes and felt the mana flee my body, creating a billowing
cloud around the cat. The cat tensed, flopping onto his side in a rigid
fashion. I watched his body get stripped by ghoulish hands.
Lumpy wanted to panic or flee but couldn’t. When he died, he
crumpled into a pile, magic diving into his bones.
The power pulsing through the bones lasted for a full minute, and
when Lumpy returned to a skeletal cat, he stood taller than a full grown
hound. He grew maybe an inch or two, and I really thought he could keep
going if we had infinite Zorta.
Lumpy and Jark were now my only tier three minions.
“Lumpy, return memories,” I ordered.
He came to me for pets, not getting angry when I oddly stroked his
spine. I felt human at that moment, mostly because I disliked petting the
skeleton minion.
At least I’m not some evil overlord.
“I need a pile of small animals. Anything big, and you tell the
others. Now, there happens to be a shitty fox, about half your size, killing
everything at the moment. Go beat him,” I said, and Lumpy shot off into the
greater forest.
Asha arrived, watching the cat bound away. “I like that cat.”
“Pfft.” I scoffed. “Charlie would have brought back a few kills
more than the furry version.”
“Bell will likely be angered,” the elva said in a haughty tone. “I
have news.”
“I’m all ears. Hey, have you ever tipped a tree before? I never
realized I would enjoy it until I did it twice today,” I said, pushing a tree
that held zero give. “Worked earlier.”
He chuckled at my odd behavior, pushing the tree over for me. I
raised my brows and gave an impressed nod of approval. We went to
opposite ends, dragging the tree to the line for sending stuff into the portal.
“So, not good or bad news? Just news?” I asked Asha.
He shrugged, and we watched the fox deposit a mouse before
jetting back off.
“Have you ever heard of bernox?” he asked.
“Can’t say that I have.”
“We’ll, there’s a reason this area is fairly void of settlements. The
bernox are a four legged creature that live in root caves, much like a bear.
When provoked, they emit a stinky gas,” Asha said.
“We have skunks on Earth. They squirt you with a lingering liquid,
and you stink for weeks,” I said, and he nodded.
“Sorta the same. The smell can knock a living creature
unconscious, and the bernox will drag you into a lair to eat you while
you’re still alive. If they spray you, dodge the liquid, because it’s acid,”
Asha said.
“Lovely,” I commented, and we shared a chuckle at my dry humor.
“If we avoid them for a week, they’ll avoid us… but, there’s some
big ones and honestly,” Asha said, glancing around to see who was
listening. “Sacrificing a few goblins to kill them reduces your goblin
skeleton problem and increases the Zorta we have.”
“Best time to attack them?” I asked.
“During the day. The closest one is about three miles to the north.
Should I plot out a trail for hitting tomorrow?” Asha asked.
I arrived at the next tree, and he helped me tip it over.
“I think so. Be safe, though,” I said.
“In the morning, I’ll have a route drawn up,” he said, leaving me to
drag the tree over to the portal.
Hunting bernox in caves sounded fun. I had a shield and everything
for killing the little critters.
CHAPTER 40
Igorn Forest
“They’re how big?” I asked, gazing at the descending hole.
I had passed a thousand massive tree roots on the way here, almost
all of them capable of containing a cave under them. Disturbed soil led to
the burrow in the tree’s root system and the tracks were about ten to twenty
times larger than I expected.
“A smidge smaller than an ogre,” Asha said with a smile that I
wanted to slap off his face. “Aw, Boss, be one with the forest.”
“I don’t need your elva proverbs. An Earth skunk is the size of a
house cat. Like three times smaller than Lumpy,” I said, tossing hands in
the air. “You said they were about the size of a bear. This is… you meant a
Nordan bear,” I muttered, figuring out the disconnect.
He shushed me. “They can’t smell anything, but they can hear
decently. It helps if you attack when they sleep. Loud noises tend to wake
them.”
I pointed to the face covering I wore as an excuse for talking too
loudly. The cloth was stuffed with some flower that should counter the
toxin. At that point, I wasn’t thrilled with this plan.
If the goblins perished horrifically, they died for good. I’d rather
not disintegrate any of my minions while they were useful and thought
Asha was giving me a worst case scenario, not a likely scenario.
“Alright, I’m backing up and going to sit in my tent and become
our biggest creature.” I glanced around. “Probably Treev the centaur,” I
said. “If you’re alive, and not a skeleton, follow me to guard my body.”
Instead of walking for an hour, I jogged the distance to hurry back.
Up until that point, nothing abnormal had happened during our excursion.
The biggest shock was that I finally got back to fifty Zorta.
Lumpy and Foxy were cleansing a densely populated forest.
Adding to that, the skeleton army also made quick work of a few ratkin
nests. Asha had to remind me of their Nordan name: raszker. These
variations were much the same as the ones I had killed before, a Zorta or
two per kill.
Besides the dozen dead raszker, I had a big pile of dead animals
outside my tent. Lumpy could reach high up in the canopy, scurrying up the
trees with his impressive claws. He’d stay up top, kill a few hundred birds
over a few hours, and a few goblin skeletons would clean up the mess.
I wasn’t surprised when a note tied to a rock arrived from Bell that
morning.
I want him back as a cat.
I couldn’t help but chuckle. She knew all the dead animals we were
tossing in came from Lumpy in his amazing skeletal form. I didn’t reply,
knowing it was out of my power until he found an animal healer back in
Seqa.
The dwarves had sent over a hundred cart loads of fresh soil to
Seqa. Our camp had a trench around it, and a widening circle away from the
portal had been cleared of small trees.
The majority of the progress was measured and simple hard work.
Our scouts widened their perimeter, and Asha found over thirty bernox
holes. Meaning, we had a fight here if we wanted one.
I was willing to take the risk on one of these big skunk creatures.
Good Z was hard to find, and the small stuff would eventually force Lumpy
and Foxy farther and farther afield.
“You okay?” Jark asked, noting my quiet mulling.
“Yeah, Jark. It’s just… you know what, never mind,” I said with a
huff.
He patted me on the shoulder. “Hey, Boss, you’re out here giving it
your best. Smart of you to not go charging in. If only there was an easier
way,” Jark said.
“One day at a time. I’m excited that we have a home. I just wish
your sister wasn’t so angry,” I mumbled.
“I heard that, Damien,” Tarla quipped from inside the tent.
“Ha! She has big ears,” the brother taunted the sister as we arrived
at the campsite. “Watch over him, sis, we’re going to guard the outside.”
I went into the tent, seeing Tarla tracing details from Asha’s
exploration. Now that we could jump around the planet, we needed
someone to do cartography work. I had watched Tarla draw, and I could
proudly say she was a natural with a charcoal pencil.
“Well, I came back,” I said.
“Figured you would. You didn’t need to go in the first place,” Tarla
said in a matter of fact manner.
I frowned and replied, “I happen to like my body. Being a skeleton
isn’t,” I paused, sucking in a deep breath, “enjoyable. I’m going to fight as
Treev. Are you ready to talk real quick?”
“This is Nordan, my handsome man. A husband demands his wife
to tell him what bothers her,” she said, setting down the pencil. Her red hair
swung, and her rosy cheeks highlighted her freckles. Tarla gazed at me
intently with those sparkling brown eyes, as if eager for me to shout at her.
“You’re so damn cute,” I said, laying down. “I’ll work on building
our Zorta stash for a better tomorrow.”
“For your family,” she replied dryly.
“Yeah, me, you, and Jark if he wants to come,” I said.
“For your family,” she said with a tougher tone.
I propped myself up on my elbows. “What does that mean?”
“That I trust you and believe in you. Please, earn us a victory, my
handsome man,” Tarla said, leaning over to kiss my forehead. She asked,
“What comes before family?”
“Nothing,” I replied with certainty.
The angst and anger faded from her face, allowing me to focus. I
kissed the back of her hand in thanks. I wasn’t surprised she was so upset
about eventually leaving her brother because they were twins. Some said
that was an inseparable bond. Being upset about leaving Jark made sense,
and I hope she did believe in us.
I adjusted my pillow, wiggled my back, and ensured nothing would
hurt from a long rest. A final peek revealed Tarla had gone back to her
work.
Closing my eyes, I meditated. The process of finding my aura never
grew old. I concentrated on that spot in my core, growing the connection.
I began chanting, “Death is power, and I demand obedience. Death
is power, and I demand obedience. Death is power, and I demand
obedience.”
My third eye left my body, soaring high into the forest. I grew
confused, willing the connection to change direction. If I had to guess, I had
diverted from connecting to Lumpy because he was the closest skeleton.
I returned to the camp, finding the direction I needed to go. Before
I went toward Asha and my assembled minions, I tried to divert. In the back
of my mind, I figured I might be able to scout that way.
My aura hit a wall, unable to travel any direction besides toward a
minion.
I guess this makes sense. Kinda wish I could exploit being an
invisible ghost that can see.
With an intense willpower, I pushed myself beyond Lumpy in the
trees and for the distant minions. I went through trees as a test. The result
was… unsettling.
I arrived at my assembled minions, diving into Treev the centaur.
Our aura’s connected, and I reigned in control of his bones.
Small nuances became a massive difference. I faltered on four legs,
my mind failing to feel natural with having a horse body. My stumbling
increased until I crashed into a gnome, sending us both crashing down.
Yeah, screw trying to learn how to be a horse before a fight.
“You okay?” Asha asked, staring down at Treev.
I willed myself out of the centaur’s frame to scan the others. I
found a tempting target, diving into one of the few dwarves who hadn’t
been revived yet. A jolt of power connected us, and I popped the dwarf’s
jaw. The skull seemed to have been in a constant frown.
Behind me, the centaur and gnome regained their feet and Asha
cued into my body swap. I tossed the war hammer to the forest floor in
front of Treev, folding fingers in a ‘give me’ motion for the sword. He
proffered the sword, allowing me to gain a weapon I was more familiar
with.
“Ah, you seem to take just fine to a dwarf,” Asha said happily.
I grumbled, not even realizing why I was sour. Maybe because I
had to look up at the smug, white-haired elva.
I trudged toward the descending cavernous opening, shield held at
the ready, my weapon poised to strike. The sword felt light, the grip
surprisingly sturdy. My gait was shorter but easy to manage. I braved the
opening, holding a hand behind me to halt the others.
I mouthed, “I’ll scout. If I bang sword on the shield, come save
me.”
The skeletons nodded, and Asha plopped a thumbs up with a giant
smirk. I rolled my head since I had no eyes. The elva loved the fact I was a
dwarf.
I entered the darkening tunnel, finding loose dirt indenting from my
feet. My footprints were unique, a trail leading into the unknown.
Thankfully, I could see in the dark because the moment I left the opening,
my vision turned into a greenish hue.
The underground network left me puzzled. Freshly churned dirt
rested on the edges and in the center of the tunnel.
This must be new?
I bent down, scooping up a pile, and then ran a hand down the side
of the wall. I kept going, pondering the situation while delving deeper into
the cavern. Thankfully, the tunnel didn’t change much, and I didn’t have to
investigate a dozen offshoots. I was curious as to where the excess dirt
ended up. Maybe there was already a tunnel and this was a bernox
expanding it?
After five minutes of casual walking, I reached a Y in the network.
The difference was clear. To the left laid fresh dirt while to the right rested a
smaller old tunnel.
A set of smaller prints tracking fresh dirt to the right grabbed my
attention. I walked down the old trail, following the curve until it opened up
into a boxy cavern. I paused at the edge of the room, peering in.
Both sides of the walls held cutout bunks. In the middle of the
space, the remains of a fox’s corpse laid next to piles of feces. I saw about
half a dozen ratkin sleeping and two crunching on the bones of the fox.
A set of ratkin eyes darted up, noticing my arrival.
I charged in, shield up and weapon ready. The loud shriek from the
ratkin who noticed me reverberated through the air.
The shield smacked into the startled partner, and I drove the tip of
the blade into the face of the rising ratkin.
The sword popped out the back of its soft skull, allowing me to
yank the weapon free with ease. I swung a hard kick to the recovering
ratkin that I had shield bashed earlier. The creature scampered, trying to
flee, and I sliced it down.
The blade chopped into the neck, crashing through bone. Those
who were sleeping called out to others.
I backpedaled, slowly retreating as more and more ratkin flooded
out of the tunnel network.
Ah, so this is why the bernox moved in. A food source and pre dug
tunnels to easily expand.
The ratkin found their courage when the few became the many. I
spun, fleeing with about twenty ratkin hot on my heels. These were the
opposite of goblins, so brutish they didn’t even speak the common Ostriva
language. I could hear guttural calls to end me.
My damn legs barely outpaced the growing horde of buck-toothed,
rat-tailed humanoids. Yellow, beady eyes glared with pure hatred at my
skeletal form. I didn’t understand their society, but it became clear that if
you invaded their home, they swarmed.
For once, I sprinted for the light at the end of the tunnel. The
incline quickly faded to reveal my minion army formed into a shield wall.
The centaurs turned, allowing me to pass into the safety of my troops.
“Shields high, absorb the raskers’ charge, and then stab after we
heave,” Asha commanded.
Before I even had the chance to spin, the loud crash of snarling
creatures hitting shields reached my ears. I turned, running for a flank on
the line.
When I arrived, the slaughter was in full effect. Most of the raskers
didn’t even have weapons. Their claws and teeth skittered and scraped
against shields, proving almost useless against breaking bones. The centaurs
and Asha slew with fast cuts, cleaving the foe with ease.
I stepped ahead of the line, driving my blade between exposed ribs.
I kicked the body off, returning to join the formation.
Crude enemy swords and axes smashed shields or lopped off limbs.
Their assault into my troops was reckless, and the charge of our foes was
doomed.
Like a switch had flipped, the raskers cued into the fact they were
losing horribly, and a rout ensued. Panicked cries joined those screaming in
pain.
I joined the mass of skeleton warriors, my short legs quick enough
to stab down at tripped or wounded foes that the bigger skeletons brought
down.
Asha and the centaurs led the charge, turning down the tunnel the
ratkin lived in. I stabbed another recovering juvenile, surprised they never
turned to fight with the outcome so clear.
Raskers weren’t goblins. My ability to add them to our army didn’t
bear consideration besides in skeletal form. I didn’t even want them as
slaves for the goblins to manage. When we found their young, I didn’t
participate in the slaughter. Their orbs would add to our victory.
The victorious fight brought overwhelming joy to my heart. At
least fifty dead raskers would be a massive boon to our needs. Finally, a foe
I didn’t mind killing to the last one.
I saw Asha collecting orbs, the only living body capable of doing
so at the moment. I didn’t leave anything for someone else to find. I started
dragging bodies to be carted off later. At the very least, they were future
dog food.
The process of piling the dead lasted at least a half hour. The
resident bernox didn’t show up or reveal itself, and for that, I was grateful.
After I held up a closed fist to Asha, I left the dwarf’s body, returning to our
camp.
I gasped, inhaling lungs full of air when my mind’s eye returned
into my body inside the tent.
Tarla stared down at me and asked, “Is everything okay?”
“Perfect. We just started diving into the bernox tunnel, and there’s a
lot of smaller species that hide underground with them, just living in harder
to dig side tunnels. Jark,” I hollered.
“Yes, Boss,” he replied.
“Get some wagons going to where we left from. We need to haul
back a whole lot of bodies,” I said.
“Send any of the living, or just the dwarves?” he asked.
“You and the dwarves. The meat will help, and they know it,” I
said.
Closing my eyes, I reached out to my minions. The distance proved
to require time, but I eventually found them. I felt their receptive replies,
welcoming my authority.
Lumpy: Repair missing claw: 2 mana of 155 available.
Goblin 1: Repair broken foot: 1 mana of 155 available.
Gnome 2: Repair missing hand: 5 mana of 155 available.
Troll 9: Repair missing arm: 5 mana of 155 available.
Perqueta: Repair broken arm: 2 mana of 155 available.
Troll 3: Repair missing jaw: 5 mana of 155 available.
Gnome 4: Repair fractured femur: 1 mana of 155 available.
Goblin 7: Repair fracture clavicle: 1 mana of 155 available.
I accepted the mana drain, letting my aura shoot out of my body.
The distant healing forced me to become fixed in place. I tried to sit up to
pee. Nope. Every motion resulted in the same thing, a block.
This was the cost of a distant heal. I could do it, but I had to be
careful doing so because I remained fixed during the magic. The spell
finally reached my minions, and the magic quickly repaired them.
Tarla leaned over, giving me a soft kiss. “What’s next?”
“I try to kill a bernox,” I said, with a smile. “Thanks for watching
over me. Stir me if there’s an issue. The big battle comes next.”
CHAPTER 41
Igorn Forest
“Welcome back,” Asha said, seeing me control the dwarf. “Sixty
seven Zorta. Maybe we should poke more of these holes.”
I nodded in agreement, smiling the best I could in the dwarven
skeleton. I went into the tunnel with the others this time, the need for
stealthy quiet no longer a big concern. Our formation was loose, padding
the loose dirt during our progress.
We walked by the rasker’s side tunnel, continuing down the main
trail. A steady decline increased until I worried about my footing.
At some point, I figured the underground mazes would become
second nature. The sheer scope of how expansive these networks were
became staggering.
The declining main tunnel split, and then split, and then split ten
different times. Over a half hour of trying to map the place, I felt like we
got nowhere and had only explored a fraction of this system. Asha began
notating each split on a piece of paper, and I realized that we were in a
labyrinth.
“The bernox heads this way, but there’s tracks everywhere, and
they’re not just raskers. Something bigger than a troll but smaller than an
ogre. We probably found an underground village or town. I… I think it’s
best we turn around,” Asha said with concern.
I huffed on instinct, it doing nothing in the dwarven frame. I
grabbed the map, running my finger down the stretch of map that followed
the bernox’s fresh digging.
“What about the tracks?” he asked. Before I could draw, he
continued, “Damien, I don’t know what these prints belong to. They could
belong to the four-armed korb, an orc, or a spendrix which are a hybrid troll
and ogre. The main thing is, I’ve never seen any orc prints outside a city,
but those are likely orc prints.
“No matter what we face down here, it's growing into a bigger
problem than I anticipated. They’re not some pushover. We’ll lose half our
army to a squad of properly trained spendrix unless we get some advantage.
A lot of these minions are capable of joining the living and growing the
Seqa population.”
And there it was - risking the lives held consequences. The very
body I occupied would probably like to become a dwarf again, and I could
understand that. He would want to work toward earning ten thousand gold
to break free of my grip. An admirable goal.
However, all of these minions only had a second chance at life
because of me. If I didn’t grow in power and wealth, they’d die anyway.
I resolutely shook my head no.
I returned my finger to the map, running it for the bernox. I would
try not to sacrifice them, but I had to be honest. I had twenty goblins and
eight gnomes in my formation - all of them were too small to be viable
warriors.
The mere thought of flesh and blood orcs in full armor had me
excited. Once they were mine, of course. I had been at this for months, and
to that point, I had lost all my best minions.
Convincing myself that my decision was correct, I walked away
from Asha, following the main path. After venturing beyond our mapped
out point, I kept going. While I couldn’t smell, Asha wavered on his feet
and had to fall back.
I pushed on. My green night vision shifted, seeing a fire and
hearing broken words from around a bend. I held up my shield, creeping
forward. A side tunnel appeared in the curve suddenly, only a few feet
away.
Slowing, I inspected the area, seeing the worn floor showed signs
of heavy foot traffic.
Elsewhere, the loose dirt still piled, and I pondered as to the why.
The sound of laughter approached from the side tunnel I stood by.
Thinking quickly, I laid down, playing dead. It didn’t take long to
see ten-foot tall lizard humanoids walking with a goblin over each of their
shoulders. I expected a lingering inspection, or at the least a cursory glance,
but they both never even saw me.
The two spoke in Strivian with slurs. I caught the mention of gods
or sacrifice to the gods. The exchange was faint, broken, and over before I
could hear much.
Determined to figure out the mystery, I pressed forward. Using a
low crouch, I kept my silhouette minimal, following the tunnel’s edge. The
second I could see a large cavern with a big fire, I laid down.
Well, it made sense now as to why Asha had become woozy. I saw
a hundred lizard people celebrating. I didn’t know the name of this species,
but I did see rows of serrated teeth and hands with sharp claws.
Their skin held tight scales no bigger than a pinky nail. The chest
portions came in variations of silver, black, and brown. The main body,
along with the back, ranged from purple to blue to red. I wondered if the
beings originated in an Ostriva jungle.
They didn’t have more than the odd weapon and were all naked. I
couldn’t avert my eyes, and it was really easy to tell the males from the
females. Clearly, their culture favored their scales as the only cover needed.
Motion off to the side caught my attention. A bernox laid near a
wall. Excessive amounts of rope bound the creature tightly. The beast was
huge, easily a problem for a small team to kill. White spots dotted the
brown fur, and the muzzled beast sniffed excitedly when the two arrivals
tossed goblins against a wall nearby.
That joy ended for the creature when a goblin scrapped the back
end of the creature’s butt, extracting a milky substance.
That must be the toxic spray.
A few minutes passed with me fixated. I watched the scene, trying
to figure out the situation. Most of the lizard people loitered around a tree
root with the interior being used as a huge punch bowl. When the goblin
dumped a bit of toxin into the bowl, the lightbulb turned on for me.
They were partying. Well, a strivian variation with thiols - the
material a skunk uses - as alcohol.
A female dipped her cup, sniffed the liquid, and then sipped her
drink. A large alpha type noticed. She immediately dropped her cup back
into the bowl, angering him further. She tried to flee, and the strivian let out
a cackling laugh.
He knocked her down, dominating her smaller frame. Her
punishment was rough sex that she clearly enjoyed, and I wished I could
vomit.
It also proved dreadfully distracting, especially when the goblins
were sacrificed and spit roasted over the fire. The lizard people plucked
knives from a nearby board to cut sections of flesh.
I had seen enough. Keeping low and out of sight, I retreated. When
I arrived, Asha was unconscious. I sighed, pointing to the only other dwarf
skeleton in the group. I drew in the fresh dirt for him to carry Asha out of
the cavern for now.
I signaled for my army to stay put, returning to scouting. When I hit
the bend in the tunnel, I darted down the side passage to where the first two
had originated.
The impression I created in my mind started into a conclusion. The
bernox dug down here, establishing a new residence. This was occupied by
more than one species. The raskers were likely a prey, adding to the
usefulness of this tunnel network.
The lizard humanoids, that I nicknamed the lidka, captured a prized
bernox who ventured down the wrong set of tunnels. After their win, they
celebrated. I knew the party lacked kids, and that likely meant a larger
settlement was nearby or the young were vulnerable.
As disturbing as it was to think about killing the weak ones first, an
easy win was a win.
I followed the worn path, avoiding the side tunnels and forks. Five
minutes became ten, the route extending far further than I anticipated.
Finally, I reached a large cavern. The space echoed my footsteps, revealing
a mining area that rested empty.
A few clues told me this only led to more problems, and that I
needed to turn around. The first being that all the other tunnels were bigger,
as in bigger than an ogre but smaller than a cyclops.
Based on the smooth, worn walls, maybe large worms or tunnel
wyverns. I saw a few broken mining tools, clearly meant for the lizard
people. Whatever operation that had taken place here, ended a while ago.
Seeing enough, I turned around. Right when I went to leave, I heard
grumbling with a mix of hissing.
“We’re not supposed to mate, we’re not supposed to mate. The
Lords will descale me if I end up pregnant,” a hissing female voice
muttered. Her frustration oozed from her words. “I… should have stayed
below. I… just a little fun. Scarla, every time this happens.”
I ducked behind a pile of old mining rocks, waiting inside the
cavern. The female who erred earlier walked with an odd gait, a sneer
etched onto her face. I didn’t fault her for venting. Clearly, something else
was going on that I didn’t understand.
Why breeding restrictions? Who were the Lords? Did this mean this
party wasn’t allowed?
Much like the two lidka from earlier that had carried the goblins,
she was transfixed by her own problems and internal musings. She walked
right by where I hid, continuing to grumble loud enough for my stalking
steps to not be noticed.
I crept behind, seeking an opening.
Slight problem. She stood twice my height. I tiptoed behind her,
unable to get a great angle. My hesitation led us to the middle of the
cavern.
My toe kicked a rock, and I flinched in surprise.
She spun, hearing the scrape.
I knew I had to act at that very instant.
I hacked down, slicing her calf until the blade bit bone. She
screamed a horrific cry of pain, blowing any chance of a stealthy kill.
When the female collapsed to her knee, I swung hard for her neck.
A forearm shot up, blocking the blow and catching my blade.
My expectation of cutting through the bone proved wrong. The
blade lodged into the lidka’s scales until it cut tendons and muscle.
Her torso pivoted, foreshadowing a strike.
I shifted my shield, absorbing an errant haymaker.
Clang.
Bones in her hand shattered, and my arm fell out of the socket. I
backed up, miffed, confused, and in wonderment that I had lost an arm.
With two ruined arms, she dove forward in desperation, ripping the
blade out of her arm. Her teeth missed my leg by inches, snapping loudly in
the big cavern. The echo sent chills down my spine.
My foe rolled, large green eyes understanding that day was her last.
She didn’t quit, though. Her attempt to spin her body for a kick with her
good leg failed, and when I stepped closer to her skull, I thrust my blade
down, driving it in between her eyes.
Leaving the blade embedded in her brain, I grabbed a foot, hauling
her away from the cavern and towards my army. As awesome as it was to
be in this dwarf body, risking little to my own self besides being vulnerable,
I hated not being able to give commands.
Next adventure, I’m tying myself to a horse to scout. That way I’m
able to tell my army to rush to aid the scout or adjust based on what I see in
real time.
My thoughts ended abruptly when the ground shook so hard debris
from the roof rained down. Without a doubt, something big raced toward
the cavern I had already exited, their mass trembling so thoroughly I found
it hard to walk. From the direction of the party, I heard the sound of running
lizard people.
Without many options, I yanked my blade free of her face,
abandoning her body.
I bolted down a side tunnel and hid behind a jutting rock formation.
I really, really hated giving up free loot. I knew the story of Harvish that
said he could revive from a distance, but he couldn’t see the battlefield. I
was… really far and deep underground.
I fled until I reached a dead end not far off the main tunnel. I sat
back, leaning against the wall to play dead.
“Keronsh!” the name boomed. The baritone voice seethed with
rage.
“Coming, Lord Darta,” the hissing lidka voice said.
That was likely the alpha from earlier.
“What have I told you about traveling near the surface!?” Lord
Darta bellowed.
“We must stay below. To avoid our discovery, your greatness,”
Keronsh groveled.
The sound of the lidka people running down the hall increased,
telling me that they all left the smaller tunnel out of fear. This Lord Darta,
while I desperately wished I could see him, remained a mystery.
“She reeks of ber-juice. Did she die fighting a bernox instead of
being murdered by an unhappy lover?” Lord Darta asked, giving Keronsh
an out.
“Exactly, oh great and mighty lord.” Keronsh’s hissing eased into
happiness.
Shifting the blame probably excited him. I had figured they’d start
scouring for me upon her discovery. Nope. They probably figured it was a
lidka on likda slaying.
“Her death went unnoticed, and I do not have a great report on her
valiant fight,” Keronsh said.
“Ha, that is the least of your worries. You broke our laws. This
cavern smells of unsanctioned mating and ber-juice consumption. The
question is, how do I punish you?” Lord Darta asked, letting the lidka take
the bait.
“We simply wanted some fun, and we earned a live bernox to add
to our vast city’s power.” The boisterous tone swapped into a sighing sound
of defeat. “A year of meditated power transferred to the great lords,”
Keronsh offered.
“I’ll make you a deal. I happened to be bored and decided to surf
toward the smell of death. A new bernox being added to the breeding pits
will help my esteem. On a few conditions, I’ll let you out of your
punishment,” Lord Darta said, earning excitement from the lidka. “You say
I sent you up top based on verified intel. We had minimal risk of discovery
by the great foe to add to our power.”
“Easily obeyed and understood,” Keronsh said in excitement.
“When Great Lord Simbo sends his magus team to drag the bernox
down, not a single member of your tribe will be in that cavern beside this
dead female. Leave her by the bernox body and say she died during its
apprehension,” Lord Darta said.
“And the goblins we fed it?” Keronsh asked.
“Irrelevant. The magus will report that they died in a trap or
whatever. Just remove the fact you were obtaining illegal ber-juice,” Lord
Darta said.
“As the great Dragon Lord commands,” Keronsh said, and my eyes
widened.
A Dragon Lord! Hmm… likely a swarm of them biding time in a
deep city. The dwarves are doing something similar. Maybe the old gods
were wanting an epic battle down the line. Or maybe there were gods like
Caitlyn; low in the rank but waiting for the cataclysm to settle.
I waited, hearing them return to the bernox cavern to clean up for
the dragon’s boss. I didn’t know what a magus team was, but they were
going to come and retrieve the prized bernox. This could be a great time to
take the bernox and run, or to ambush a high level team.
It became clear the death of the female didn’t warrant a true
investigation. What mattered was impressing the Great Lord Simbo.
Knowing we had an opportunity, I extracted myself from the
skeleton body. The feeling of soaring through the forest invigorated my
resolve.
I traveled between the trees, over digging dwarves, and into my
body. My lips ejected a gasp, and this time I found myself alone.
Not wanting to waste any time, I hurried off the bedding to the end
table with pencil and paper. I wrote a request to Bell, asking for all the
crossbows to be brought over. When I finished, I exited the tent, seeing
most of my revived soldiers guarding my body.
“Follow me. Where is Tarla?” I asked.
“Over here,” Tarla said, her voice coming from the portal area.
“Tossing in these raskers. With the dozen of guards not willing to leave you,
the job needed help.”
“Go help,” I ordered my living minions.
The dwarves and gnomes raced forward to aid in removing the
dead that were piled high on the cart.
Tarla left them to handle the work, coming to my side right as Jark
found me.
She went to talk, biting in her comment when her brother said,
“Any new orders?”
“I’m at a crossroads, but I want to prepare for both options. What
do we know about tunneling dragon lords?” I asked.
Tarla frowned, retreating into our tent with an index held up for us
to pause.
I plucked a stone off the forest floor, brushing grit off the surface. I
wrapped my note around the stone, approached the portal, and tossed in the
message.
“I don’t know much about dragon lords, Damien. I do know spider
queens are notorious for betraying others to gain power,” Jark said
hesitantly.
“Don’t hesitate to give me your opinion. Also, the thought of a
betrayal has crossed my mind. I see a few problems with it. Her people
aren’t thralls, and they can kill her quickly if she sells them out. She knows
this.
“Next, Seqa is becoming a devout town with prospects of growth
and stability. Who will rule it when I leave? She stands to gain everything
from a power perspective. If we grow the city by hundreds, if not
thousands, that is a huge boon, and a hell of a reason to not try to kill me.
Of course, this is assuming the main gates are never broken down or Selma
invades,” I said.
“Yeah, but that Selma lady, she worries me,” Jark said.
I sighed, enjoying the actual process. “Selma will be a problem, and
I agree. However, I have to believe Nessio is different. Clearly, she is. Her
way aligns with us, and not all strivians are backstabbing, evil beings.”
“Lelu is watching Nessio and the gates for us,” Jark said, his tone a
bit dejected.
I nodded, knowing her dwarves were likely watching me. Lelu was
his troll lover, the two of them happy in their lives. Well, Jark was semi
happy. I was fairly certain he hated being my minion and was only grateful
because of my magic hold over him.
“Hopefully, Nessio is never a problem,” I said, seeing Tarla coming
back with a book.
“Four legs or two on the dragons?” she asked.
“Oh, I only heard them. Based on the fact I didn’t see large
footprints, I’d guess no feet,” I said.
“Hmm…” She flicked through the pages of the strivian identifier
book. “There was a species called the Great Wurms by the Falsion Empire.
According to this, they called themselves dragons but were not. Maybe
some distant variation, but they are now snakes with dragon heads. Or
wurms.
“This says they were found in a nest. Negotiations were conducted
for peace, and the terms were extremely favorable to the Falsion Empire.
The end result is unknown, and the peace may still last,” Tarla said with a
shrug.
“They seemed worried about the surface. I do know they’re too big
to go into the cavern where the bernox is. They have subservient species;
ten-foot tall lizard people,” I said.
Tarla thumbed the pages, changing sections. She showed me a few
pictures until I saw the right species.
“This one. I called them lidkas. I guess that’s worse than orclizards,” I said with a shrug.
“If this is the magus team, they’ll be hard to kill and not worth a
drawn out fight,” Tarla said.
“Yeah, the scales are tough, but not tough enough for -” A bundle
of crossbows flew through the portal. “A crossbow bolt. Either way, I’m
stealing the bernox they left bound. The knockout stink should be removed
by the time we arrive.”
“Wait, you want to go in person? What exactly is going on?” Tarla
asked.
I filled her in about what I had experienced and then said, “There’s
something at play. Politics of some sort. The wurm wants to impress his
boss, and I get that. The boss is sending a team to claim the captured bernox
and make it an official capture. If I had to guess, the Great Lord Simbo
retrieving the bernox is more fruitful than a minor lord bringing it back.
Again, just a guess.”
“This said, the wurms used a variety of species. The magus team
could be anything smaller than an ogre,” Tarla said with concern.
“Well, here’s my plan,” I said, going into a thorough briefing as to
what I wanted to have happen.
CHAPTER 42
Igorn Forest
I returned to my dwarf’s body, seeing my arm reattached. Taking a
risk, I trotted to the edge of the main cavern-way. When I peeked out, both
directions were clear. A pile of blood rested where the female I had slain
had rested for a short while.
A few splashes against the gritty stone floor told me the lidka
dragged the main source of the obnoxious smelling liquid out of the party
cavern.
I went right, heading for the main cavern where Lord Darta had
been.
When I arrived, I scanned the area, seeing a single guard on duty
who watched the opposite side. I only spent a few seconds trying to see
dragon footprints. When I didn’t find any, I retreated.
I ran for the bernox, knowing timing was going to be everything.
When I arrived, my skeleton army had already secured the cavern
with the large animal. Asha glanced at me for permission, standing by the
bernox’s head.
I nodded in approval.
I had to give it to the elva. He was always so damn fast. His blade
lanced out with lightning speed, driving into the eye of the bernox.
A startled whimper of shock escaped the defenseless animal and
then silence. He jerked his blade out, creating a sucking sound, and flicked
the gore off the tip.
After using a dead goblin’s jerking to clean his blade, he sat down
to meditate.
This part of the plan revolved around the skeletons protecting Asha,
the only one of us able to claim the Z. He chanted a cadence about how
Zorta gave life. Each sentence had me on edge.
My fears of some massive army descending on us while we tried to
steal some easy Z were unwarranted. He convinced the bernox to give up its
orbs, and a minute later he did the same to the dead lidka.
That was phase one. Not that it was over, I had a decision to make.
“Well, Boss,” Asha said, walking over with two small colorful orbs.
“Thirty seven for the bernox and six from the lidka. Odd to think about, but
killing the raskers was worth more.”
I nodded, pointing to the bodies and then to the surface.
“You sure it’ll take an hour to drag the bernox corpse up to the
surface? We may miss the ability to ambush whoever is coming to claim the
prize,” Asha said, having me second guessing my decision.
I shook my head, pointing to both bodies and the surface.
“We’ll do it as fast as we can,” Asha said, changing his tone to
positivity.
Knowing he had the situation in order, I left the dwarf’s skeleton to
return to my body.
The flight was the same as before, revealing nothing new or
worrisome as I zoomed through the trees. Unfortunately, when I neared the
portal, I saw our progress was tediously slow.
Four dwarves pushed a cart with all the extra gear and my body
loaded on top of it. Extra armor, better weapons, and additional crossbows
were still being thrown from Seqa to here.
Diving my aura into my body, I sat up with a gasp.
Catching the attention of the others, I said, “That’s enough. Leave
the rest. We need to hurry.”
“How did it go?” Jark asked, the dwarves keenly listening.
“We were able to secure over forty Zorta, and I ordered the
skeletons to drag the bodies to the surface,” I said.
“Not going to use the bernox as cover?” Tarla asked.
“I thought about it, but no. If we start to lose an ambush, we retreat
to the surface, and they won’t follow. At least this way, we get the meat,
scales, hide, and fur no matter what. The plan proceeds with my skeletons,”
I said, picking up a slight jog.
The dwarves grumbled at the fact I wanted to push them, and this
was also why I wanted to go ahead and salvage what we could. The plan
wouldn’t work without the crossbows, which would take a half hour to
arrive anyway.
During the jog, Tarla ran at my side, her shiny red hair glistening in
the midday sun. I never grew old of seeing her blushing cheeks and happy
smiles from my lingering gazes. Our rift seemed to recover, her tone
missing her earlier hostility. I smacked her butt through her robes a few
times, something she grumbled at because we weren’t in private.
I chuckled at her sudden modesty, knowing the woman better than
most. I also deserved the hard pinch she applied to my right butt cheek
when we arrived at the site where the raskers had been.
The dead female lidka rested off to the side. I could hear the shuffle
of feet and the sound of dragging from within the cavern. I applied my face
covering to avoid the toxins from the bernox and headed into the opening.
When I arrived, the body pushed a wave of loose dirt that the
skeletons barely overpowered. Thankfully, they were almost done. They
tugged tirelessly, dragging the corpse by rope that used to bind the bernox.
I joined a team dragging a rope, applying my strength to the
progress.
Soon, the rest of the dwarves were helping us yank the corpse
above ground.
The feat left those of us with lungs winded, and the stench of the
animal battled the decent breeze.
“Grab gear, let’s go,” I ordered my minions. The dwarves from
Seqa didn’t listen, instead going to work on the corpse to clean it. I walked
over to Yohan, their leader, and asked, “How long?”
“A few hours if we want ta not piecemeal the hide,” he said in a
stern tone. “The claws and teeth hold the most value. The lads are already
removing those. If ya drag the fight up here, expect us not ta die for ya. At
the same time, if ya buy us a half day, this is a mighty haul, and no kids will
go hungry anytime soon.”
The area above ground buzzed with activity. The two of us were the
only ones not working toward a goal. I gave him a manly nod, leaving to
gear into heavy armor with shielding protections from magic.
That armor was the best we had, and while I normally hated being
in layers of metal, I could make an exception for a tough fight that could
happen in minutes.
After thoroughly being weighed down, I reattached my fancy sword
from the cyclops’ loot. The blade weighed significantly less than my
training weapons, a fact Asha encouraged now that we were beyond the
basics.
I added a crossbow to my arsenal and then headed for the cavern
entrance. Asha joined my side, geared in light chainmail and even a helm.
“We can take the win?” he asked with a sigh. “Before you judge
me, realize that Lumpy and the others have been doing fantastic work
without us. They are uncanny in their ability to kill wildlife that this forest
is teeming with.”
“Right, and I get that. Trust me, after this opportunity passes, I’m
fine with dialing back the aggression. For now, let’s stick to the plan,” I
replied, waving my troops into the entrance. “Everything in our future
hinges on having front line skeletons. We can’t bring cavalry, but we have
dwarven crossbows, mages, and even troll archers. We need something that
can take the brunt of a fight and come out alive.”
“I… We can buy that maybe, maybe, and for all we know, this
could be a team of elite goblins,” Asha countered.
I shook my head, following behind the minions. One of the
resurrected dwarves pulled out a small orb from his vest, a gentle shine
illuminating the way.
We spent the twenty-minute journey in silence, the slightest clangs
of armor echoing loudly. I sent a goblin skeleton forward and into the
cavern the bernox resided in.
He returned with a shrug and a no head shake. I turned our group
into the main tunnel toward where Lord Darta had appeared. Once we
arrived at the useless cutouts, we began setting our trap.
I waited with the other living minions and Tarla at the end of the
tunnel in an offshoot. My skeleton minions waited closer to the old mining
cavern.
“I really don’t like how simple the plan is,” Jark mentioned.
He wasn’t whiney in his tone, but he was concerned. This went
back to his boring, I’d rather not take risks strategies.
Honestly, since he was Tarla’s brother, and I could get Bell her
divine magic, he was a priority for my first big purchase.
Jark continued, his tone low, “Our adventuring guild never did
anything so haphazardly.”
I smirked, ready to reply, but Tarla beat me to it.
“Captain Hern, whom I remember clearly, always over complicated
things. This is fine. We ambush the team that comes or let them pass. If we
fight and lose, we sacrifice skeletons and carry Damien out since the route
out will be clear,” Tarla said, having the foresight to know that if two
minions died I would hit mana exhaustion.
“I also like the Boss’s plan and would tell him if it was shite, but
it’s not,” Asha whispered. “Combat is -”
“Your Lord told me he had a prize here!” a booming voice said. “I
didn’t believe him. Now, well, I smell it clearly. You fools spilt the ber-juice
in my tunnels and dared to venture near the surface! And you’re my
victim.”
A loud snap ended a horrified scream, telling me the guard was
dead. We became statues. I never even felt the wurm’s movements. He just
arrived suddenly and then silence.
Ten tense minutes passed, and I laid down. I chanted myself out of
my body and into one of my goblins.
Leaving the side tunnel, I headed for the mining cavern.
When I arrived, I found two feet minus a body.
The rest of the space remained empty. I returned the goblin to his
hiding spot and ejected myself.
When I was back in my body, I explained that no magus force had
arrived. Feeling like we should give it some time, we hunkered down.
An hour became two. Two became ten, and next thing I knew, we
slept in the cavern without even a slight disturbance. I had a runner check,
and the dwarves had processed the bernox. The spot where it rested was a
big, gorey mess that Lumpy and Foxy exploited to keep getting kills.
I sent minions back to get every other crossbow handed out. I even
had rotations for stew during meal hours.
I became depressed. The time we wasted waiting for an ambush
could have been used for felling trees or adding soil to our growing city. I
wanted grass in my training yard. I wanted an actual dining table. The list
went on and on.
Instead of giving up, I used the time to try something new.
On the second day, I closed my eyes, linking to my minions both
alive and undead. I forced them all to sit and join me in meditation. At first,
I fumbled with my attempts, unable to connect the dots.
The… the process definitely held steps, and I screwed them up over
and over. I put a dwarf to sleep because I focused so hard on finding bliss
and balance.
I adjusted, slowing the process trying to connect to them and have
them reach into Nordan to extract Zorta. Each attempt resulted in a renewed
concentration, and when I scrapped the group effort, I finally found success
on the one on one level.
My favorite dwarven skeleton began to siphon Zorta out of the
planet, and I smirked in joy.
“Simbo said it’s this way. I certainly smell bernox,” a gruff voice
said, the sound just a faint whisper from my distance.
I ordered everyone to their feet, preparing for a moment that I was
starting to think would never arrive.
Asha neared my ear and whispered, “Minotaur.”
I gulped.
Shit.
“Captain Estacron, I smell blood,” a voice with a hiss said.
That had to be a lidka.
“The Great Dragon Lord said there was a fight and the bernox are
restrained. Yup, here’s the feet of the poor guard he ate,” Captain Estacron
said. The sound of marching soldiers rang through the tunnel network.
“Betri, Astrover, scout the cavern.”
“On the way, Captain,” two voices said.
Trolls, those were expendable trolls he sent.
Jark shook his head, and I slumped in disappointment. This was the
one scenario that meant we “What are you all standing around for? I want to secure all these
side tunnels,” Captain Estacron said. “I smell the blood of raskers. I could
use some Zorta. If you little shits think about telling if we find some fresh
prizes...”
“I smell that too, Captain, and… the dead. A lot of death,” the lidka
further emphasized.
“Maybe Darta’s team killed the bernox and claimed the Zorta for
themselves before we could get here. Would it surprise any of you?” the
Captain asked, resulting in a dozen lidka exuding a soft chuckling.
“Captain, something feels off,” the lidka said, and I was about
called a retreat.
“Pfft! It’s not okay to be scared in my unit. We’re the elite of the
elite. Your concern will be punished with extra duty,” Captain Estracon said
with a snicker.
He was clearly confident and likely a big minotaur. I glanced down
at my crossbow, palms starting to slick with sweat.
The sound of a dozen enemies approaching grew louder. The scouts
and their noises vanished in the background.
The Minotaur and his team neared our front lines. I forced my
undead in the cavern to sit down, weapons in their laps, not directly aimed
at the door.
A female lidka said, “There was a fighter in here, but oddly no one
looted the weapons.”
“Huh,” Captain Estracon blurted. “Those are expensive dwarven
crossbows. I’d know because in the -”
The second I figured he was within range, I whispered, “Fire.”
Snap! Snap! Snap!
“Argh!” the minotaur cried out. “Fall back. Heal me, Tarr.”
My troops stormed out, and I joined them. In the tunnel, eight lidka
and a minotaur retreated for the mining cavern.
With a swift movement, I raised my weapon, sighting the minotaur.
I let time slow, calming my senses as I exhaled, slowly pulling the
trigger.
Snap!
The bolt burst from the crossbow, soaring forward. Based on the
flight, it was a sure hit.
My glee halted when searing heat from behind me singed my hair. I
yanked my blade free, seeing a troll turning to cinders.
Tarla blocked a swing from the other scout, her staff breaking but
saving her life.
I abandoned the main fight to help Tarla. Jark shouldered the troll,
but it was as if he hit a brick wall. We were facing a high-level troll.
A kick to Jark’s midsection sent him into the tunnel's side wall.
“Stall him for a minute,” Tarla screamed, channeling a spell.
I darted in front of her, trying to be fluid in the heavy armor. A
quick slash from the troll punched through my plate mail, diverting down to
slice my left hip.
My foe didn’t hesitate, repeating the kick he had just done to Jark.
I braced my weapon, placing it in his leg’s path.
The kick stopped short, and the other leg swept my feet out. I
crashed onto my back with a hard thump and loud clang. The yellow eyes
of the troll shined with glee.
“I lied,” Tarla said with a sneer.
Flame burst forth, hitting a barrier and then blasting through it.
The troll reacted quickly, diving to the side. I thrust my blade,
predicting his fall.
The troll screamed as he burned, not seeing that he was falling into
my attack.
I grinned, driving the tip of the sword into his heart. Shocked eyes
widened, and I yanked the blade free quickly.
“Retreat, Cap and Tarr are dead! Oh shit, an elva!” a lidka cried
from behind us.
“No prisoners!” Asha bellowed with a grunt.
I heard the cry of a lidka while I scurried to my feet. I expected to
find myself out of mana from dead minions, but the ambush seemed to have
worked. I sprinted for the main mining tunnel.
“Turn and fight, take some of them with -” the lidka voice
transitioned into an “Arggg…..”
A lightning bolt slammed down into my skeletons. The power was
so immense, even my shield from the far edge flickered on.
I slammed face first into the gritty cavernous floor. Sharp rocks
embedded in my face as I ate rocky terrain. A tooth popped free, and I
groaned.
Your minions Goblin 1, Goblin 12, and Troll 3 have died
beyond repair. Claim your Zorta from the dead. Penalty three hundred
mana. You have hit 0 mana. Mana exhaustion initiated for two hours.
Taking a risk, I immediately applied .121 Zorta to my mana to
bring myself back up to full.
When I surged to my feet, I healed myself on the go. A tooth
popped into place mid-sprint, and my long strides sped me over the
recovering skeletons that crackled with energy.
Asha moved with the grace of a battle master, clashing swords with
two remaining lidka who towered over him.
Perqueta charged in, an enemy blade swept out. The centaur lost a
leg, falling in a tumble. The crafty centaur swiped out, cutting through
scales and hamstringing his opponent.
Asha used the injury to tuck and roll, achieving distance.
Snap!
Snap!
Crossbows fired from recovering dwarves. Their precise aim sent
bolts tearing into the fixated lidka who chased Asha. The projectiles hit
with enough force to pick up the lidka and send her flying back until she
crashed down in death.
The final lidka hobbled with hands up before tossing his blade
down and placing his hands up in surrender.
He eyed me with sadness, not disgust or hate. Just pure
disappointment.
“I surrender,” he said.
I nodded, not saying anything else to him. “Bind him. If he tries
anything, kill him.”
Asha came over panting. “The trolls?”
“Incinerated, and the best part is, Tarla not only survived, she
kicked ass,” I said proudly. “Jark will need healing, probably has a broken
back. Who killed the minotaur?”
“Uh… someone from behind me. Shot under the skull, and the bolt
went into the brain. Either a great shooter or a lucky shot,” Asha said.
“Fight would have been much worse if he didn’t go down early,” I
said, feeling better now that my skeletons had bound the immense lidka. I
turned to my first prisoner of war. “I’m going to heal you. You’ll be
marched to our camp for an interrogation. At best, you become a laborer
and are given plenty of food. At worst, you become one of my minions.
When I ask questions, realize that I value information.”
“I value life,” the lidka said.
I nodded, respecting his words.
My minions didn’t stand around and wait. They leaped into action
as was the plan. Teams hoisted bodies, running them for the surface.
I pulled into my aura and shot out a powerful spell of heal other.
The green magic washed out in waves, healing those that were injured.
I then swapped to my necromancy healing, finding a list of injuries.
The list went through almost all of my minions. Fractured or cracked bones
were the most common ailment.
Expending 122 mana, I blanketed the area in black magic, restoring
my minions to full. The last thing I did was retrieve the measly 3 Zorta
from my dead minions.
Five minutes later, we ran for the surface. I teased Tarla about
finally managing to avoid a death, and she reminded me she has survived a
few engagements recently, but she admitted she should have died in this
fight. Jark thanked me for the heals Tarla mentioned she was proud of me
for saving her, and Asha told me we were lucky about four times.
I couldn’t argue. A big factor in warfare was surprise, and we
caught an overconfident enemy unaware. Instead of feeling pride, I had to
wonder when I would overextend and walk into an ambush myself.
Even at a fast pace, a full half hour passed before we arrived out of
the tunnel network. After we reached the surface, we continued to run until
we were a good distance from the cavern’s opening.
I ordered a halt, and the bodies were quickly ditched onto the leafy
forest floor. The golden hue of a fading sunlight showcased our prize.
Eight dead lidka, three dead trolls, a dead minotaur, and a live
lidka.
I turned to the prisoner and asked, “What are the chances the
wurms come to the surface?”
“Use Dragon Lords or else they unleash a tirade of emotions. Super
not worth it, even if you’re wanting to taunt them,” the lidka said. I rolled
my hand, encouraging him to continue. “Zero. They fear the great human
hordes with the high level magus. This group fought with humans and lost
decades ago. Since then, their god, Parnicious, says they must amass an
army of a million soldiers, all over level ten.”
I scoffed. “That’s silly.”
He shrugged. “I’m a level ten because of it, but yes, one step
forward and two steps back.”
“Extrapolate,” Tarla said.
“In order to survive, we have to be schooled, then trained, and then
leveled. Most of the strivians they govern can follow this path. And govern
they must. This is no super-secret. Ruling a strivian nation requires a lot of
work.
“Once we’re ready to level, we have to get Zorta from somewhere
besides the soil. So, we war through portals or fight terranean creatures.
More often than not, those battles and adventures result in not enough
Zorta,” the prisoner said.
I nodded in understanding, believing him because that is what I
experienced myself.
“No chance they come surging out of the ground to come save
you?” I asked.
“My education dictates I answer that there’s always a possibility,”
the lidka said, having almost no hiss or trailing s to his speech. “I’m almost
certain Simbo will not come to the surface for a low tier team. We’re not his
magus team, not even close. Captain Minotaur, super hero there, listened to
none of my warnings.
“Plus, Simbo forgot about the bernox until Lord Danta prodded
him, and we got sent up high to do a retrieval. Part of why Captain Estracon
was so confident was because Dragon Lord Simbo said there was no threat,
and he just accepted that as a fact.”
“Ah, he believed in what they told him without a second thought,” I
said, and the prisoner nodded. “Thanks for your honesty. What kind of
mage are you?”
He hesitated, then said, “Lightning mage.”
“You almost turned the tide of battle. I don’t fault you for trying to
survive, but I’ll admit I’m not sure what to do with you,” I said.
“You should kill him and make him a battle trainer,” Asha said.
“Guaranteed not to betray you, and you’ll be able to free him later if your
heart so desires.”
“Damn Asha,” I said, pulling out my blade. “No, we’ll use him for
our next trade portal. He’s a perfect cover. After that, he’ll fight in the arena
or be some rich lady’s guard. Maybe we trade him to a strivian minotaur
lord. Either way, he’s worth a lot alive and is behaving, for now. What’s
your name?”
“Karo, and thank you, Necro Lord. They’ll smell humans at the
battle and seal off the tunnels,” Karo said.
“As long as you remain helpful, there is hope. Life before death,” I
said.
“I’m impressed, I didn’t think about using a strivian to get into a
Nordan city. It’ll probably work,” Tarla countered. “However, all I could
think about is him biding his time until he betrayed us. All I ask is to not let
him stay around for long unless he becomes a minion.”
I hung my head, giving it a simple shake.
“I get it,” I said with a grumble. “Executing my enemies when they
are cordial is… unbecoming and yet, becoming more necessary. I’ll pass on
this occasion. Karo may prove exceedingly useful.”
Letting the lidka sigh in relief, I headed over to the troll with the
stab wound in the heart. I grimaced at half the face being charred from
flame.
I sat down, fixating on the troll’s orb as I chanted my incantation.
“Death means life, Zorta brings power. Death means life, Zorta
brings power. Death means life, Zorta brings power.”
When I felt a hum against my aura, I reached out, feeling a slight
resistance before the troll succumbed to my cultivation power. After he
folded and accepted my domination, I felt the tingle of a leveling unlock.
Claim or Consume.
Claiming Horto Trollkin as a minion will result in occupying a
necromancer slot and earn you Nordan Points. Do you wish to
proceed? (YES) - (NO)
You selected to claim Horto Trollkin. Consume 8.329 Zorta to
summon this creature as a minion of the undead. Confirm (YES) (NO)
I selected no then went over to the minotaur.
“What’s the plan, Boss?” Jark asked.
“I need to see my cost basis. I only have seventy Zorta saved up.
While this trip has been profitable, I’m still in debt. The rest has been
tossed into the portal,” I said with a sigh.
“I’m still nearly four hundred until fire mage eleven,” Tarla said,
reminding me she was next on our big upgrade list.
“Which I haven’t forgotten about. Just the portal became the
priority, and then the debt to avoid interest,” I said in a soft, disappointed
tone.
“If we’re going to Earth, without magic, I don’t care. If you want to
make this your new home, then yes, I do. But my fire spells are plenty
powerful, and Jark needs to be freed,” Tarla said.
I glanced up at her with a smile, nodding in agreement. Sometimes,
we were on the same page, and I was getting that vibe we could finish each
other's sentences.
“I actually have too many minions, even if I wanted bigger ones.” I
glanced over my shoulder at the twenty goblins I used as skeleton minions.
Mostly killed from the ogre fight. “If we revive them, they’re inferior.
I’d…” I paused, coming to a decision mid-thought. “Goblins line up. The
next generation is already being born, and you’re in surplus. Your sacrifice
will guarantee the survival of the next generation.”
I walked the line of skeletal goblins, releasing them one by one, and
only earning a measly ten Zorta. Their big cost was the portal travel, and
now that had vanished.
“Twenty eight minions now. Going forward it will be less of a
burden on our one hundred maximum portal movements,” I said.
“I’d say they died in battle,” Asha said with a frown. “Nee holds
sway with the goblins, and a lot of those died willingly for you.”
“I know, I know. Being the leader and having limits isn’t easy,” I
admitted. “I’ve been doubting myself. But... I disagree regarding lying.
These goblins sacrificed themselves to allow us to gain a minotaur skeleton.
They lived longer than any normal goblin would have and helped their
tribe. Now, they will increase its might with a final goodbye,” I said
proudly, and the three live goblin minions went from frowning to smiling.
“A noble purpose for a noble set of tribe members.”
“Assuming you can claim the minotaur,” Tarla mentioned.
“I aimed for the neck, so that is hopefully my bolt. What is one of
the lidka worth?” I asked. “I don’t need additional mages at half power, but
those tall lidkas in heavy armor would make a great skeleton front line.”
“Give me a second,” Asha said, sitting down beside the body.
I rotated to the minotaur. My minions had stripped him nude
already. Sorting through his gear, I found a purse laden with gold cubes.
Bonus. Funny how they’re cubes, probably for storage. Yeah...
I knelt beside him, repeating my chant differently, “Death means
life, Zorta commands power. Death means life, Zorta commands power.
Death means life, Zorta commands power.”
When I reached out for his orb, it didn’t fight me immediately. A
resistance did fight me, but it was far less than I expected. Without a doubt,
I had slain Captain Estracron.
We played a game of tug of war, the two of us battling for power.
Just when I thought I’d win, he would regain power.
I lost the first round, only capable of consuming his 83 Zorta.
Yeah… He was worth a fortune, and if I couldn’t just turn him to
bone later, I might have simply had his orb fall out.
A hand shook my shoulder. I opened my eyes, seeing it was dark. A
chilly breeze cooled my armor.
“I broke the rest of the orbs, but we should return to camp,” Asha
said.
I glanced over my shoulder to the cavern’s entrance.
“Fine. I was close. What are the others worth?” I asked.
“The three trolls are worth seven to ten. The lidka around fifteen
each. This was a great victory,” Asha said.
“The minotaur is eighty three. While I want a massive army, a few
big units to subsidize my smaller force seems prudent,” I said, scanning my
forces.
“The lidka can hold a formation better than a dwarf. I wouldn’t
downcast their usefulness,” Asha said.
Jark neared, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey, Boss. I apologize
that the plan did work out great. I wanted to say that Lumpy and Foxy have
earned more Zorta than this entire lot is worth. They did that just in the time
we were waiting to kill them.”
“The blood from the bernox was that good of a trap?” I asked.
“Yeah, apparently birds thought the duo were dead and never
realized how the skeletons were killing their friends. My point is -”
Tarla cleared her throat, handing me a big bag of orbs. “We live and
die through your power, not ours. Here’s a hundred Zorta. The rest has gone
into the portal. Thank Lumpy and Foxy when you can. Raise the dead, my
Lord.”
“Boss,” I said.
Tarla shook her head. “You're my everything and to all of us, our
future. Even with my fascination of you wearing off from staying alive,
you’re still a good man worthy of calling my Lord.”
“I’d prefer Boss, but I appreciate your belief in me. And Jark is
right. Maybe massive fights aren’t needed with proper planning for traps,” I
said.
“Take the Zorta, Damien. Grow in power,” Tarla said proudly.
I closed my eyes, using my aura to reach into the bag she propped
open. I latched onto all the colorful orbs, enveloping them.
Would you like to consume 103.114 Zorta (YES) - (NO) (DROP)
I selected yes, causing the orbs to transfer into my being, and the
bag emptied.
I closed my eyes, chanting for a third time. As the words came out,
I felt different. I… I changed when I demanded a group obedience. The
hidden skill of subvert oozed out of me.
The evening sky blanketed into a thunderous cloud of darkness that
crackled with power.
I exuded might. The very air around me condensed as my aura built
into a cultivated power. Feeling my hairs raise and my body surge with
power, I released my will unto the dead.
While I expected my spell to rotate over a short distance, it instead
exploded with an untempered lust for everything it could find.
You have connected to a variation of dead beings and creatures.
Three trolls, nine lidka, a minotaur, thirty three sparrows, two foxes,
and a bernox. Would you like claim (ALL) (GROUP) (SINGLE)
When I selected (GROUP), my vision changed into highlighting the
dead with red and green. I left all my nearby orbs as green. When I glanced
toward the portal, a glowing outline in the distance told me where the
undead rested. I removed the thirty sparrows but kept the foxes.
I continued to turn, until I saw a green icon to the north. This was
about half way into the map that Asha had drawn.
I pointed and said, “After I bring up these new minions, run with all
haste, and take the skeleton army with you. Someone killed a bernox and
the orb is up for grabs. Maybe from age or a rival fight or something. The
fact it isn’t claimed means it's an opportunity. Claim the Zorta and kill
anyone who stands in your way.”
“As you command, Boss,” Asha said, waiting for me.
Claiming all the selected dead as a minion will result in you
earning Ostriva and Nordan points. Do you wish to proceed? (YES) (NO)
I continued.
You selected to claim 14 minions. Consume 203.192 Zorta to
summon these creatures as minions of the undead. Confirm (YES) -
(NO)
I grumbled and said, “I’m thirty five short. Going to consume the
three trolls and one of the lidka. Apparently, I can’t grow in power too
quickly.”
I shifted my selection then confirmed. The dark cloud I had created
earlier came roaring back. The crack of lightning caused a thunderous
cacophony, and I saw an awe cross many faces.
“I love this part,” Tarla said with glee.
“Collect the orbs of the others, and then ready their bodies for the
portal,” I told Jark and the other living minions.
The power of magic condensed, billowing with anger. A dozen
reapers fell from the sky, and the friendly one from before dropped to
within inches of me.
The skeletal feet cratered the forest floor from the impact. The
reaper's ghoulish eyes blazed with a blue fire, a smirk spreading on its
faceless head.
“Hello,” I said nervously.
I rarely found myself scared or nervous to talk, but this was one of
those times.
The reaper dipped its head in acknowledgement.
“Tips are helpful,” he said a terrifyingly hollow voice.
The face turned flat, expressionless. The plain gray skin held no
contours or definitions.
“Take a few sparrows,” I replied, not sure what would happen.
He grew confused, and I pointed.
Around us, reapers picked up and hurled bodies into the forest
floor. Eager hands reached up as the ghouls consumed flesh with an
insatiable hunger. Bones were stripped clean, and the reaper in front of me
reached out for the pile of sparrows in the far distance.
“Thank you. This grows our power and yours too. A stronger
reaper means a stronger necromancer. Your next upgrade just became… 4.3
Zorta cheaper. For us, we will come quicker next time,” the reaper said as
his maskless face grinned.
A second later, he slithered into the soil as if falling into water. The
new minions rose, heading to the weapons pile to hastily grab gear. They
never slowed. As soon as they were ready, they sped off with Asha for his
next target.
I stared in wonderment at my forces sprinting away. The minotaur
outpaced the others, eager to add to our dead.
Personally, I hungered for a nice soup, a warm blanket, and a
private night with my lovely Tarla.
CHAPTER 43
Town of Seqa
I sat on my balcony, basking in the warm sunlight. I gazed out,
letting the sight of the bustling town soak in. A steamy tea wafted a rich
scent of honey. I slid a stool over to prop my feet up.
Tarla shared the oversized chair with me, glued to my hip. The
crudely constructed creation fit us both wonderfully, and my wonderful
freckled faced beauty shined with a radiance.
“Well that was one hell of a trip,” Bell said, arriving from behind
me. Her extra stompy footsteps warned me of her mood, and I winced in
anticipation… “Where’s Lumpy’s fur?”
“Awe, come on now, Bell. You know he needs to stay a skeleton for
a wee bit longer. Oh, which reminds me, did you ask Caitlyn if there is a
revival discount for pets or goblins or group orders?” I hoped my attempt to
return Lumpy to a jenix cat would placate her.
“She’s not a damn vendor,” Bell said, plopping into a chair beside
us. “Okay, maybe she is a little. I did ask.”
Bell tossed a neatly folded piece of paper onto my lap. Tarla
plucked the parchment daintily, unfolding it for me.
All beings, excluding animals, cost 10,000 Zorta to return to the
living. The issue is they’re tied to you. When you release them, which you
would have to do, they go into the pit of souls.
Each soul extraction requires a fee. That fee fluctuates based on
extractions performed. If a major war breaks out, the costs could go up,
and a long stretch of peace means they go down.
Earth is relatively cheap compared to the pits on Nordan. We can
discuss terms further when you turn Bell into a divine mage and actually
have enough Zorta to pay for such an endeavor.
Side note - lidka interests me. Keep him alive, safe, and
increasing in knowledge. It may be worth your while.
That was the good news.
The bad news is: Lumpy is well and truly dead. Don’t shoot the
messenger.
Your Goddess,
Caitlyn
“Awe…” I said in disappointment.
“Yeah, I love that stupid cat, but he’s tied to you forever, meaning
he will always have to follow you into a portal. If you go to Earth, he dies,”
Bell said, a hint of accusation in her tone.
“Ouch, and so do a lot of others who died. I love Lumpy, but the cat
attacked a centaur skeleton. Anyway, I really miss my parents and Earth.
There’s normally two sides to a story,” I admitted.
Bell eyed me with skepticism. I think she guessed I would stay, and
I very well might.
“The new portal?” Tarla asked, changing the subject.
Bell sighed and said, “Nessio picked something close to a
mountainous lake, high in altitude. There’s no cities or people nearby.
Should be a boring place to gather additional supplies, a bit of hunting, and
they’ll even try mining.”
“I was surprised she wanted to rent the portal for herself,” I said.
Bell scoffed. “Fifty Z was cheap. Even with Lumpy and Foxy
stealing all the little kills, her dwarves still nabbed over thirty goblins, a
bunch of trap prey, and sold fresh soil to Selma at a big profit.”
“I would have assumed Selma has her own portals,” I said,
knowing I needed to likely learn more about our spider queen neighbor.
“She probably does, but you’re not fathoming how vast her
territory is. Having extra Z, and then needing soil in a distant room
probably means it’s just easier to buy it nearby,” Tarla said.
I mulled over what she said, realizing I would need to travel the
labyrinth for days to get a true feel of the depths.
A lull in the conversation allowed me to check my stats.
Name: Damien Moonguard
Race: Human
Affiliation: Neutral
Zorta: 7.550
Nordan Score: 395,500
Ostriva Score: 371,100
Location: Town of Seqa
Magic Type: Healer
Healer Level: 8
Magic Type 2: Necromancer
Necromancy Level: 4
Necromancer Minions: 42/150
Fighting Level: Mediocre
Mana: 155/155
Mana Recharge: 6
Strength: 9
Stamina: 8
Dexterity: 7
Constitution: 10
Willpower: 9
Cultivation: 17
Intelligence: 30
Wisdom: 30
Charisma: 28
Tracking: 7
Endurance: 10
Perception: 13
Burst: 8
Reflex: 8
Healing: 7
Melee Combat: 7
Aim: 5
Hunger: 1
Thirst: 1
Aging: 59 years until death.
I sighed, knowing I could keep upgrading my core stats, but… the
costs were starting to add up. I glanced down, seeing my minions working
to beautify my estate.
I sipped on my tea, reflecting on the last few days while my gaze
zoned out on the creation of a yard.
After Asha found the bernox dead from an unknown foe, I pulled
our forces back to ready for a hasty retreat. No army burst from the depths,
allowing us to stay for the duration of the portal. Our time was filled with
mundane tasks, and the three foxes became two after a bear ran off with
one.
The Zorta collection never slowed, though. Each day we managed
to average over a hundred. After my expenses, setting some Z aside, and
paying off a good chunk of the debt, we deserved a break.
Jark arrived and said, “Just got done talking with Nessio’s financier.
We’re down to seventy Z, and we’re done with our debt, including the
mandatory interest.”
“Fantastic,” I said, setting my tea onto an end table. “And our
spending power?”
“Forty Z and a whole lot of gold and gems. I started trading
Selma’s folks’ meat, hide, and other things for gold. They’re loving the
exchange. I also think it’s helping her stomach the decision,” Jark said.
“I thought she wanted the trade treaty,” I said.
“Rumors, all I have are rumors,” Jark said defensively, attempting
to warn me of information.
Tarla snickered and said, “You and Lelu are handling most of the
trade. If anyone knows, it’s you.”
“Alright, I just don’t weigh it as fact. Basically, the spiderlings who
trade us are always sour they aren’t dancing over our corpses,” Jark said
with a snicker.
“That is how I look at it,” I said, rising to stand by the balcony’s
edge.
I gazed over the city, seeing a trail of workers coming and going
from Caitlyn’s church. Dogs loitered around the main entrances to the town,
waiting to bark at intruders or detected digging. The populace seemed
happy as the warm, magical sun beat down with a radiant warmth.
The main gate that led up to the upper gate’s landing remained
sealed. However, the winding tunnel was open, additional dirt being carted
up. That upper processing area was being converted into a farm field. The
sound of the waterfall splashing down soothed my soul, and I felt at home.
I loved the grand view and the openness. The sheer size provided a
unique comfort.
“You okay?” Bell asked with a snicker.
“I’m allowed to enjoy Nordan for a few moments without death
and politics. But back to it. The dwarves are likely pushing her hard. Zozo’s
Hold is probably more powerful than Selma is, and when you add a new
threat on a new front - which is us - she grudgingly accepted a trade deal
instead of a peace treaty,” I said with a shrug.
“Yeah, I think the fact she didn’t accept the additional Tela tunnels
and caverns was surprising,” Tarla said.
Asha arrived from the courtyard staircase. “Got a moment, Boss?”
I held up a finger, seeing Nee bossing around a beast master who
dealt with puppies.
“Nee, get up here,” I commanded. I turned to Jark and said, “Sell
everything we can to get me more gold. Tell the spider queen’s traders we
want Zorta first but value gold at the same rate. This means they’ll be trying
to offload and acquire gold, which is cheap in this area. Then we’ll sell it
for Zorta in human cities. Our next mission is going to be a trade mission.
Getting lots of gold matters.”
“You got it, Boss,” Jark said, heading for the exit.
Nee finished giving her orders and hustled up the same stairs that
Asha used.
“Alright, that means I can train after her report. What have you got
for me Asha?” I asked.
“I wanted you to find the right ram or mare, especially if we’re
taking a trip to a human city next week,” he said.
“That is part of my desire for trade. I want a unique mount I can
trust. The rams are reckless, Charlie is a demon, and the mares are too small
for all my heavy armor. I’ll use a mare for now, but I want another epic
mount that I can rely on. Anything else?” I asked.
“Karo has requested something to read,” Asha said about our
prisoner.
“I’ll handle it,” I replied. “Again, another reason to have a trade
run. We can level everyone’s intelligence and wisdom if we open a library.
That building should do.”
I pointed to the old town hall.
Nee arrived, and Asha bowed in respect before heading back to
training. I’d join him soon, feeling the need to burn off some energy.
“How can I help you, Boss?” Nee asked.
“Are the needs of the goblins being met?” I asked.
The small humanoid plopped into the seat beside Tarla. Taking out
her paper and pencil, she licked the charcoal tip with a grin.
“I have a few requests, but most center around upgrading skills.
There are some family members sad to hear their dead relatives will not be
coming back. However, death is common among goblins. What is not
common is that our children are healthy, our bellies are full, and our threats
minimal. Overall, everyone is extremely happy. It wouldn’t surprise me if
there is a goblin encampment forming near the air vents,” Nee said,
pointing to the ceiling.
“Ah, yes, another topic for another adventure. There’s hidden exits
to the surface. Asha will be going through one soon. If and when an
opportunity presents itself, expect to march to war again,” I told her, and
she nodded.
“We continue to train, but we are all at minimal skill levels, merely
awaiting Zorta to unlock more power. A hundred will bring your army from
ones and twos to seven and eights. As for our tribe, we just crossed the two
hundred goblin mark with births,” Nee said proudly.
“Glad to hear your needs are being met and the young are healthy.
How’s the animals?” I asked.
“They’re a lot of work. Good kind of work, though. The puppies
are growing bigger, the rams are content, and Charlie is an asshole,” Nee
said with a sassy snort.
I chuckled while Bell gasped.
“Not taking it back, he is,” Nee said, firming her tone.
The goblin was powerful in her own right. Bell glared at her.
“The requested items besides Z?” I asked.
“Mostly for crafting. Raw metal for tools, tools to make tools, and
then timber. We prefer wooden homes over stone. Maybe we could make
one of the empty expansions a forest. We did replant trees someone pushed
over. The goblins would love that.” Nee mused it over and added. “But,
we’re really happy already.”
“A buffer forest between Selma and us would be nice, especially if
we invest, say, twenty Z into the goblins,” Tarla said.
“Consider it under consideration,” I said to Nee. “Add it to your list
and tell Yermica that I want a similar report by week’s end with a trading
list at the ready. Not that she answers to you. Keep up the good work.”
We watched Nee head down the ramp for the estate’s courtyard.
“I’m coming with you on the next mission,” Bell said. “I…” She
glanced down at her neatly folded hands in her lap. “I’ve grown into more
than a barmaid, clearly. When I expressed my angst at being safe while you
adventured, Caitlyn said she wanted me at your side, fighting with you.”
“Of course. If you come, who's in charge here, though?” I asked.
“I’m the Lady of the Estate, it should -”
“I’d be dead without my fire mage, regardless of our affectionate
love,” I said.
“When we revive Jark, we can use him as the stay behind leader,”
Bell said, giving what was likely the best answer. “If you truly trust Nessio,
and I think you should, then we have little choice. Both Tarla and I will go
with you. The question becomes where do we spend our gold? And will
pretending to be nobles get you inside without an inspection?”
I shook my head, not letting the thoughts bug me. Worst case, I’d
stay outside and not trade.
The sound of swords clashing against each other called to me the
way the library used to. Glancing down, I saw Asha waving me over for a
sparring match, and I grew giddy to lose. I knew I was changing. Taking
another week off to adjust would only help us all.
CHAPTER 44
Town of Seqa
“Why am I here?” Karo asked, his deep voice echoing in the
church.
Nessio had just left, earning a few hundred Zorta from her week
long excursion. The spider queen was ecstatic from her mild adventure and
had even brought home a lot of saplings. Her own goblins likely requested
the same thing as mine - a new forest - and we certainly had the excess
space.
Bell dialed up the portal. A golden hue drowned out the ambient
light until it brightly illuminated the space.
“You may know the region we have open,” I said. “And you’re
likely coming with me. Don’t worry. Mini won’t hurt you.” I paused with a
grin then added, “If you behave.”
“Captain Estracron can likely hear that you named him Mini,” Karo
said with a gruff tone.
I waved his nonsense away with a flippant flick of the wrist. The
lidka loved to socialize and was baiting me into a reply. I needed to focus.
When the map generated, I groaned.
Islands. The left side of the map had a whole lot of islands with a
massive port city on one of the islands.
On the right side was hopefully a mainland. Based on the tiny roads
going off the map, I figured that’s what it was.
“This can’t be human,” I said, pointing to the lower elevation sea
city.
“Nope, and they’ll not have much to trade besides fish and fruit,”
Karo commented.
“If we select anything on this side of the map, it's a boring week of
sitting on an island and using the skeletons to catch prey,” I said. “This one
seems uninhabited.”
I pointed to the second biggest island.
“Wait, that’s likely a human city.” Bell pointed to the right side of
the map.
She zoomed in, zoomed in again, and a third time.
I saw a high cliff face and then a human city.
“Is this Tarb?” I blurted, wondering at the odds.
Or was it divine intervention.
“Nope,” Bell and Tarla said at the same time.
They glanced at each other, and Tarla signaled Bell to proceed.
“King Karn’s realm is about five times further to the ocean, but I
can see the reason why you would assume. It’s human with three portal
points near the walls,” Bell said.
“That’s great and also bad,” I said.
“Only if you go,” Karo said.
She had a point. I held in my smartass reply, seeing a blue icon
further south of the city that rested close to the big island. I folded my arms,
thinking. After a few rotations of the map by Bell, I walked around the table
to the control point.
I zoomed in on the southern spot.
“Decent forest density, a nice place to build a raft for the island, or
just have the minions wait,” I said.
Asha shook his head. “This is a heavily hunted area. We have to go
to the island and then cross.”
“I hate that idea,” I said. “There’s a thousand things that can and
likely will go wrong. My father had a saying. ‘Don’t cross the rickety
bridge to save a day’s travel.’”
“I thought Earth was advanced. Why would you have dangerous
bridges?” Tarla asked.
I rolled my eyes. “It is, but that was just a saying. Look, Karo has a
point. This changes if I don’t go. All the problems vanish,” I said.
“And so does our protection,” Bell said.
Tarla hugged me from the side. “It can wait. Not every cycle will be
perfect. How about we sell this one to Nessio cheap or just spend a week on
the island.”
“Free maybe, yeah. Why don’t we make it an open island
adventure? Tax those who go,” I said, liking the idea more and more.
We debated the merits and did exactly that. After spreading the
word to everyone, Nee led a team of five goblins and two hounds onto the
second biggest island. We sent the Dwarven teams, troll teams, and even a
set of gnomes.
The reception was lukewarm until Nee herded two dozen turkeylike birds into the church randomly. The damn things counted as returns.
And when she came back with a dozen sea turtles next, we sent Yermica in
to get her to come home. Growing pains. At least our river had sea turtles
that didn’t die.
After seeing five little goblins raid some decent stuff, we allowed
up to ninety percent of portal allocation. The rest of the crews brought back
fruits, seeds, dead fish, and small game animals they had caught. Most
importantly, they all returned alive.
It was a small miracle and a moral boost. During the week, I
focused on two things. The first was finding a way to the surface. Nessio
finally guided me to a secret door in my estate. Asha traveled the tunnel
with me, using a troll skeleton to go with him.
After heaving a fake boulder door open, we painfully scouted the
area over two days. The situation at the gates was great. No centaurs
remained, and only the signs of a few fires were left behind.
Seqa Valley was a different story. The forest was teeming with
centaurs, and we only went so far away from our private entrance. After
seeing enough, we covered our tracks to retreat to safety.
The next few days were boring reports from the town using the
portal until, finally, we came full circle to being able to select a portal
again.
When the portal turned off, we found ourselves around the table,
excited for a new summoning region. The magic swirled to life, the portal
flicked to on, and we stared at a different landscape.
This time, a massive lake swallowed the bottom quarter of the map.
The area above the lake was low lying grasslands that crept up in elevation
toward a mountain range.
“Looks great for a centaur herd,” I said.
“There are many variations of strivians who live on the plains. This
looks like the home of the horned darthians for instance, or the trigans,”
Karo said and Tarla thumbed her mythical creature book.
“We can work with this,” I said in excitement. “Finally, we can see
if trading is a viable route over just constant killing.”
“You're just tired of watching others have all the fun,” Asha said
with a smirk.
“We really need some new tools, seeds for our fields, some fine
blankets, a proper mount, and even some new mages would be nice. Oh,
and books!” I said, rubbing my hands together in excitement.
Tarla passed around the tome containing documentation on
strivians. I saw two pencils holding specific sections open. When it was my
turn, I flipped the pages, seeing a deer-man and a tiger humanoid.
“You know these races?” I asked Karo.
“Indeed. And they’re very symbiotic and civilized. Don’t get me
wrong. They’ll kill humans without a second thought, but to my kind,
they’d be warm and receptive. The darthians are the farmers, and the trigans
the warriors. They will not trade with you, because of your race, and me
showing up with gold wouldn’t help,” Karo said.
“That was your chance to con us,” Jark said with a scoff.
“Yes, but you’re missing a key factor. I reek of humans. They’d
accept me in and then slay me for being a spy,” Karo said, glancing down at
Jark with distaste.
“Alright, we cannot mesh with them?” I asked. “Can we kill
them?”
Karo pointed to the book, and I began reading out loud. “This says
Darthians are extremely fast, avid hunters via bow, and fantastic farmers.
Their aim is rumored to best the elf. Interested they don’t call you an elva,”
I said, getting distracted.
“Elva and elf are different, but alas, not by much. The book will say
the trigans are also fast with amazing eyesight, smell, and hearing. They
truly are apex predators. Let’s zoom into the first human city,” Asha said.
We shifted the map to the zone of rising elevation. He continued to
zoom in until only a ruined mess of a city remained.
Taking the map further from the plains revealed two more fallen
cities before a final human city stood proudly. The footprint of the city was
massive, using two ridgelines to shore up its left and right defenses. A
massive wall closed off a valley so large there was even a portal inside the
space.
A tremble shook the church, startling us.
The small doll that Bell used to summon Caitlyn blossomed with a
purple glow as it grew. A minute later, the goddess stood as a female lidka.
She walked over to smack Karo’s butt.
“Hey handsome,” Caitlyn said with a mischievous grin.
Karo fell to his knees, diving down to kiss her feet repeatedly.
“Ah, I do love it when they properly respect you. This fool has
been crying for divine help, not realizing he was in a really good situation.
Arise my minion,” Caitlyn said in a boorish tone, tiring of his groveling.
“Do not take the portal inside that wall. It shouldn’t be an option. That is a
message from my boss, and all I came to warn you about. And oh, you can
trust this idiot. The moment you can’t, I’ll let you know. You’re one of mine
now, Karo. Serve me well and be rewarded. If he learns to obey, I’ll trade
his life for Jark’s death.”
She vanished, the stick doll floating back to its resting spot.
Karo stood there in stunned silence, confused and baffled.
I cleared my throat for his attention and said, “She needs another
champion for Ostriva. So dramatic. She could have explained it better, but
likely, you’re on the short list. Leave the church freely as a patron of
Caitlyn, and if you cause any problems, I’ll flay and heal you.”
“Yes, Necro Lord Damien,” Karo said proudly, leaving the church.
“Six hells below! Yes! I want that deal,” Jark exclaimed.
“Yeah, we all do. I need a banker anyway,” I said with a sigh. When
he was well outside the church, I muttered, “Almost turned him into a
minion. Kinda glad I didn’t.”
Asha shrugged defensively. They had mentioned a few times over
the last two weeks that we could use him in our army.
I went back to the map, adjusting the image. When I followed the
terrain further north, three smaller cities remained standing. Their grandeur
and might couldn’t compare to the main bastion that fought the south.
One of the cities rested closer to a busy river with expansive farm
fields and mediocre defenses. The other was at the foothold of the
mountains with sturdy walls. A third city, the one furthest north, rested on a
lake that went off the map’s borders.
“If we used the portal inside the human capital, it likely would have
been discovered,” Bell said, wagging a finger and adding, “I would assume
that would anger the local god and be flagged as a rule violation. A portal
can’t be spawned inside a city’s limits.”
“They likely broke the rules with that massive open space,” Asha
guessed.
“Well, where do we go?” I asked.
Tarla tapped a spot on the map away from both the human cities
and the Ostriva plains. “Here,” she said with conviction. “It’s a day’s ride to
this city.” She tapped the indefensible river city. “Two days walk to the
main wall with another half a day to the city from the wall.”
I glanced at her and shook my head. “I don’t like it, but… if we
take mounts, it might be possible. A lord and his two companions,” I said,
setting my knuckles against the edge of the table.
Bell giggled and Tarla rolled her eyes.
“What?” I asked. “Companions, not wives. Both are common here,
correct?”
Bell covered her mouth, trying to contain her laughter. “Yes, it is
very common. It’s just that I predicted you’d use us as a cover.”
“Ah, is it a problem I can take only Tarla?” I asked.
“I’m your head priestess. It’s not a problem,” Bell said.
Tarla smiled. “I’m fine with playacting. I can tuck my claws away
for the mission.”
I turned to Asha. He noticed me waiting and said, “We can get a lot
done while you trade. I like this plan, and I don’t. Distance traveled in any
region means you are exposing yourself. At the same time, this allows your
skeletons to earn while you’re away, but… if you buy a surplus of items,
how do you move them?”
“That would always be a problem. We could make multiple trips
maybe. They -” I started to say but stopped when Asha changed the map.
“This is undefended for a reason. Scouts or scryers likely monitor
the area heavily, and the farmers pick up and flee at the first signs of
trouble. Look at this.” Asha zoomed in on the map.
A road led to the mountain foothold city with thick walls. He then
traveled the mountain to the main city.
“They’re connected,” I said, noticing what he was trying to show.
“Absolutely. They have to move the food safely. All the trade goes
through this city and then under the ground. I bet they let you travel for a
fee or something, but… you’re you,” Asha said.
“Yeah, just getting into this city should be enough. We can afford to
pay the extra fee. Which brings us to the question of where we arrive,” I
said.
Asha winced. “There’s no good answer. Anywhere you can select
in the area will result in having to fight humans. This isn’t Tarb where a few
hunting parties scour the forests for the odd rasker or terska - the bunny
monsters. Anyway, both sides are braced for war. Arriving on horseback in
thick armor with two mages, a bunch of gold, and a story should get you in
the gate without an inspection.”
I frowned. “So where do you want to set up our portal?”
He pointed to a blue portal in the start of the incline, right where
the Nordan line was located.
“The busiest area?” I asked.
“We’ll get to fight two sides, assuming you’re okay with that,”
Asha said. “Fighting humans means you might have dead humans.”
“I… I am. I have to be. They’ll kill me in a heartbeat if they learn
what I am. Unless the city declares itself neutral.”
After thinking about it, I wanted to be as neutral as possible.
“Great, because we’re going to fight scouts, and both sides will
think we're the other. This spot is not too far from an old Nordan road. And
-”
Before he could finish, I selected and confirmed the location.
“We march to war… with a side of trading,” I said with a smirk. “I
call ‘not it’ on riding Charlie!”
A round of laughter echoed through the room. I donned my thick
metal helmet with the nose bridge. We were going to visit a human city
while my minions wreaked havoc.
CHAPTER 45
Lind Kingdom
“Copper per entry!” a guard in studded leather cried out. His outfit
was colored black, much like the rest of the guards. If I had to guess he was
an officer because he wore a feather in his cap. “Try to avoid the tax, just
try it. I dare ya! Copper per entry!”
We stuck to the middle of the road, waiting our turn to pay the
gatekeepers. The common folk lined up off to the side while the traders and
farmers stuck to the middle of the road where they had their wares
inspected before being assigned a fee.
The outbound traffic heading for the farming town and the northern
town squeezed the wagons closer to the commoners. Immediately, it
became evident the nation of Lind was bustling with a high population
density.
Another set of heavily armored adventurer types trotted into the
city via the space between the folks on foot and the wagons. We joined that
line, approaching a fifty-foot tall wall with a smooth stone surface.
At least a hundred guards watched over the gate. Mighty siege
weapons appeared menacing as they perched on special platforms. None of
the soldiers gave us more than a cursory glance.
If I had to wager, adventuring nobles were common and nobody
showed their orbs in LInd. It was all about collecting a tax from the citizens
for them to use the city.
The adventuring group in front halted for a brief moment. They
flicked a coin to a linebacker of a woman and were waved through without
an inspection. This was exactly as we had seen a few times already.
Upon closer inspection, the woman had an unrepaired nose and a
big mole on her cheek. Had she been in a fight or was she born that way?
Either way, she eyed us with disdain, holding a palm out and urging us
forward as if she had somewhere to be.
“Just the three of ya?” she asked, her tone snippy and uncaring.
“Yup,” Bell said, readying a purse.
“Silver per,” the guard said.
I had seen the last group give her a single silver for five people and
immediately let out a tense breath. Not wanting to cause a scene, she got
what she wanted without a single question. We gave her the extra coins.
After Bell handed her the silver coins, we rode through.
“Hurry it up,” the old hag snapped.
Both Bell and Tarla had tried to assure me that mounted rich folk
received different treatment, but I had still been nervous I really relaxed
when I saw no orb inspecting at all.
We trotted the horses along the busy road, seeing nothing but stone
boxy and tall structures at the front of the city. The feel of the city told me
of a condensed expansion. Crews worked to build up with cranes clogging
the alleys. The road teemed with people. I gasped at the sheer numbers.
The roaring din of folks trying to over talk the groups beside them,
drowned out the wagon creaks and the horse hooves.
A nearby kabob vendor cried out that his amazing roasted lamb was
for sale. The smell of roast meat wafted over the area. I smiled, a sense of
normalcy returning for a brief moment.
I heard a slight clang of coins and saw a nearby lady glance at Bell.
Charlie carried all our gold and Z for trade on his rear-end with Bell in his
saddle. Tarla watched those bags like a hawk during our trip down main
street.
Five minutes into the city, we saw a massive four-story stone bank.
Large pillars stood out front amidst an ascending set of stone stairs. Guards
patrolled here with far more vigor than where we had been already.
After declaring we had business, a guard waved us past a small
wall. I glanced up at the massive sign.
Lind Adventurer’s Bank & Exchange.
We hitched the horses out front, and I stayed in the saddle of the
chestnut mare. I people-watched over the wall while the ladies went into the
bank. Miscee carried supplies, and I spotted a chain of tigran being led
somewhere in restraints.
A regular tigran dressed in fine garb startled me. Its orange fur
puffed out at a tight neckline. Nobody batted an eye or cared that he walked
freely through the city. He was rare but not alone. I spotted more of the
tigran intermingled with the common citizens.
Most of the people stuffed into the busy street wore decent garb
that matched a well-cared for city. Based on the population density, it
wouldn’t surprise me if the people from the three destroyed towns further
south had all moved here.
When we arrived via the portal into the Lind Realm, I had expected
intense fighting. Instead, we saw no signs of scouts. Based on the fact the
populace seemed at ease, the guards semi-alert, and tigran freely walked in
the streets, I wagered a peace between the two forces was in effect. Or, at
the very least, the two sides had come to an understanding.
“Copper to brush the horses, mista?” a raggedy young girl asked.
I glanced at the bank guards, but they didn’t seem to care she was
pestering me.
I didn’t let her distract me too much. I kept an eye on the horses
even though Charlie would not let anyone but Bell take off his hitching. The
raggedy girl’s fellow urchins urged her forward, wondering if I had heard
her the first time.
I reached into a pouch and tossed the young, silver-haired girl a full
silver cube. Her eyes widened in delight at the wealth.
“I seek knowledge,” I said, and she nodded. I patted the mare’s
saddle that Tarla rode in on. “This mare will let you sit in her saddle.”
She ran to Charlie instead. The damn stallion nickered happily
when she scurried up his side. The warhorse snorted at me with a tease and
a glimmer in his eye.
“You suck,” I told the horse, who, of course, neighed out in joy.
“He’s a beauty. Your lady is lucky,” the girl said. I saw her glancing
around his saddle, seeing if Bell had left any items she could pilfer. Being a
street kid meant survival, but thankfully her search came up empty.
“Whatcha wanna know?” she asked.
“I’m not from these parts. I’m a bit of an adventurer. Start with the
location of the market,” I said.
She pointed back toward the gate, but off to the left. I had seen a
few wagons turn that way, but most had followed the main road we had
used. She then shifted her arm until it directed me down the main road that
kept going until it entered the mountain.
“Will more guards charge a fee for the tunnel?” I asked.
“Only for the express tunnel, but it’s not as bad as getting back into
Olin,” she said, stroking Charlie’s neck. “Where you from?”
“A faraway land,” I said with a smile. “The main city, after the
tunnel, is it worth the trip?”
“You after a market or gamin?”
“Uh… both sound nice,” I admitted.
“The arena is over yonder along with the capital market. It’s only
an hour via horse,” the girl said.
Her group of ruffians grew less afraid, nearing my boots with hands
out. I tried to ignore them, but they proceeded to brush the horses when
their leader told them to get to work.
“Only one more silver for the three horses,” I said, hearing ‘thank
ya mister’ a few times in reply. “The war with the strivians,” I continued.
“What happened?”
The girl huffed, sputtering her lips. “That finished before I was
born. After a long war, a mighty battle was won. The invasion was halted,
but since then, I’m not sure,” she said. “There’s ambassadors and visitors.
I’ve never been to the tirgran city of Lasing.”
I wondered about her parents, and then let it drop. Her teeth were
straight, her nails fairly clean, and her clothes were ratty but intact. She
managed.
“Who’s this?” Bell asked, startling me.
“That was quick,” I said before turning to the girl. “Off you get.”
I flicked a silver coin to the group closer to the sidewalk. The kids
scurried to retrieve the reward before someone else could claim it.
“You made friends,” Tarla teased, hoisting herself into the saddle.
“Right, so… the bank?”
Bell nodded and said, “They had a metal mage and a parsing mage
on hand. We set the bags down and a few minutes later were given a few
high value coins called palladium and almost all of our gold is now Z. The
good news is, this city is flush with Z compared to Tarb. Nothing compared
to a strivian city, but we could leave now and be well ahead.”
“How much with our gold?” I asked.
“Four hundred and twenty Z,” Bell said proudly.
We did have a lot of gold, and I was expecting it to be around three
hundred, so this was a nice boon.
“Debt free,” Tarla said. “Any issues with minions?”
I shook my head.
“I bet they’re earning well. What’s the plan, Boss?” Bell asked.
“We go to the main city market, buy a wagon, and then get our
supplies requested. After that, we’ll find a hotel near the arena,” I said.
“To fight or to watch?” Tarla asked.
“Definitely no fighting, but maybe some gambling. We have our
lists of needed supplies, and the day is young. Maybe we’ll head back
without staying the night if shopping goes well. I know we need a parsing
to break up Zorta orbs, a shield, and an enchanting mage ourselves. At the
very least, we can check the slave market. These tigran are big and would
make good…” I saw the kids watching us and chose my words carefully.
“…warriors.”
Bell led us from the bank courtyard. We headed down the main
street toward the opening for the underway. The large street remained
crowded with the horses forced into a slow walk. My major angst about
coming to a human city faded once again.
The fact I wore expensive armor and rode a horse set me apart from
those on foot. My experience was vastly different. From my perch, I saw
the street thieves avoiding eye contact at all costs.
I had to wonder if I had made a mistake investing so much into
becoming a neutral champion. Deep down, I knew a lot of that choice was
taken away from me in order to save Jark. I used the trip through the
throngs of humanity to reflect.
The goblins had been great in helping us reach our destination. I
would have died without them, but now that we had a home, they were just
workers. I didn’t lose sight of their utility or agency.
An inner grumbling left me conflicted. Goblins were part of the
reason for my success, but I wouldn’t need them here.
Now that I was a level 8 healer with a chance at 9, I could live here
and likely work. I figured I would be able to blend in and create a good life
with minimal use of my necromancy abilities. As warm as those thoughts
were, I would always run a risk of being dragged out of my house in the
middle of the night and burned at a stake. I had Ostriva points, and that
would never change.
No, this Lind Kingdom was not for me. I did enjoy feeling human
again, and we passed a lot of vendors selling jewelry, towels, and soft
blankets; the kind of things humans purchased when you had an excess of
wealth.
“You okay?” Tarla asked from my side.
“Are you sad we can’t live here?” I asked, curious as to how she
felt.
She shook her head, cutting in front of me. The road narrowed and
went into a tunnel. We avoided the heavily guarded shortcut.
After we crossed the narrowing threshold, the space opened again.
The sides of the tunnel itself held a mix of stores, homes, and stables cut out
of the walls. Large magical orbs illuminated the space, leaving the
transition to only a minimal change. Mostly, I felt the chilly air that helped
cool the warm day.
The traffic never died down. I saw side tunnels filled with people
coming and going. The city of Lind was congested with people to a bursting
point. I had to believe there would be some decent folk looking for a new
start.
Tarla joined my side again. The echoing ambient noise roared
loudly inside the tunnel. Tarla raised her voice, saying, “I love you,
Damien. I know I don’t say it besides in the mornings while you sleep, but I
do love you. I love you more than a city or the idea that the grass is softer in
the next meadow or beach. So, no, I’m not sad, not in the slightest.”
“I love you, too,” I said, surprising myself by how natural it came
out.
Bell glanced over her shoulder, smiling at our exchange.
“We live where we live because that is our fate. I think it is better to
focus on the home we have. Our estate is bigger than my rich father had. It
is filled with happiness and love not deceit or snide remarks,” Tarla said.
I shifted the conversation. “Do you think we can convince mages to
follow us?”
“We already went over all the ‘what ifs’ over the last two damn
weeks,” Bell said from over her shoulder. “But without a doubt, there’ll be
hungry people looking for work outside the city. I see a lot of poor here.”
We turned slightly, almost coming to a halt because the congestion
of people was so thick. Far in the distance, a light at the end of the tunnel
told me the capital was relatively close. This middle area seemed to be a
resting point for those shifting between cities.
The crowd parted for Charlie with most of the residents admiring
the fine stallion who all but pranced proudly. The next half hour passed
with the three of us grinning and taking in the sights of Lind.
When we arrived in the capital proper, I saw an upper city with
guards checking orbs. I didn’t see some mighty castle on the skyline
dictating where the king or emperor or whatever the local lord lived.
I had to wonder if living in a tower had a fatal flaw to aerial attacks.
If humans had griffins in small numbers, the enemy had to have something
similar.
The distant roar of an arena pulled us deeper into the city. This
section teemed with apartments that geomancers had molded into shape. If I
had to guess, the arduous process drained mages quickly.
The towering buildings transitioned into brothels. Those shifted
into merchant stores with multiple floors. I scanned the buildings, not
finding livestock but finding books, fine bedding, and plenty of adventuring
gear.
I tried to see someone selling horses but quickly realized they had
to be somewhere else in the city.
We neared the arena. Massive arches allowed citizens to flow in
and out. Oddly enough, I didn’t see anyone collecting money to view the
entertainment. Along the sides of the arena, soaring higher than the
framing, were hotels.
“I…” My voice faded.
Bell smirked, holding a hand up. She had been there on that first
day when I had said I wanted a balcony. She knew me well enough to divert
to one of the hotels overlooking the games.
A sign reading Kesso’s Gaming & Rooms hung over a four-step
entryway. A series of lads grabbed our reins when we neared the inner
courtyard of the hotel. The building rose at least twenty stories tall with raw
stone stacked thickly on top of each other.
The interior of the courtyard was composed of brown and black
granite with a slate like surface. Bell hurried inside while I waited with the
horses.
“So, if I wanted a nice stallion, where would I go?” I asked.
A young man looked at me like I was crazy. He pointed back the
way we came. “In the tunnel, turn left at the vendor market.”
“Thanks,” I said, seeing Bell already coming back out.
“Seventh floor with great views for ten Z or the fifteenth floor for
five?” Bell asked.
I shifted off my mare, getting down. “Seventh is fine,” I said,
shifting to aid Tarla in getting down. “Are you going to be okay shopping
on your own?”
“After I see the room, yes,” she said.
“It’s a gold per stable slot per day,” the attendant said.
I went to pay, but Bell hollered, “Get a wagon slot for 7-D.”
“Five per,” he said.
Bell ran out to hand him the right coins. She then went back in to
get our key.
The hectic atmosphere reminded me of checking in at a busy hotel
on Earth. The flow of people, the roar of a cheering crowd, and the bustling
staff only added to the complexity.
We arrived inside an odd barroom with a check in desk. The front
half of the store held a few patrons eating meals, giving a sense of a calm
restaurant. However, the backside was jammed with guests watching an
arena match from floor level.
The translucent wall rose ten-feet high and had to be magical,
allowing the spectators to view two mythical bear men wrestling.
Bell and Tarla waited patiently while I admired the barroom. Most
of the construction was stone with a few fine wooden pieces for decoration.
The wafting smell of roasting meat mixed with spilled mead had me licking
my lips.
Bell grabbed my sleeve, taking us to a stairwell.
She said, “They do things slow here. A match an hour with no
matches in the middle of the night. There’s a five-minute introduction with
twenty minutes of bet setting. That’s how the city earns. They tax the bets,
the rooms, and the market. Which, by the way, is better than Tarb.”
Tarla pinched my butt as we went up the clean stairwell. I wasn’t
shocked to see it made entirely from stone.
“I take it they use stone for cleanliness?” I asked.
“Geomancers are expensive. Remember Matty?” She paused at a
flight of stairs. I nodded. “She dreamed of Tooties being like this one day.
Each of these stairs are seamed together. Even to do a single stair is a day’s
worth of mana. To do a whole building like this was probably ten thousand
Z in mana recharges and years of work. If I had to guess, a lot died on both
sides after the cataclysm, and their essence went into building structures
like this.”
“It sure is impressive,” I said, running my hand along the banister.
“When I go shopping tomorrow, where do I send our purchased goods?”
“We paid for a wagon slot under the building,” Bell said. “7-D is
the room. It’s real easy to have the goods delivered to Kesso. Remember 7D. They’ll do the rest.” She inhaled deeply in a satisfied manner. “I miss big
cities.”
“Me too,” Tarla said. “Visiting is nice. I did notice we can’t visit the
noble’s market.”
“We’ll be fine making do,” I said in a positive way.
When we arrived on the seventh floor, a team of workers in maid
outfits waited at the end of the hall. One of the gals, with golden locks and
blue eyes, rushed forward to help us into our room.
“My name’s Misty. If you need anything, just holler out the hall,
and we’ll fetch it for you,” Misty said.
“Three meals, a pitcher of ale, and a book on local history since the
cataclysm,” I said.
One of the young men in a butler outfit nodded, running over with a
palm out. Bell placed a shiny coin in his palm, causing the lad to gulp.
“After the meal costs, give yourself a tip. Then buy a bunch of
books for Lord Damien,” Bell said.
“Spend all of it?” he asked, stupefied.
“Yup. 7-D has a wagon slot. Bring the one book back for Lord
Damien and have a librarian pick out books for a new library,” Bell
ordered.
He nodded and left, Misty eyeing him with a sigh.
“First day and you stick a palladium coin in his palm. Should be
interesting. The hotel will cover any issues if they arise. Your room faces
the arena, and I always say this; betting must be done by you, not through
us. You can pay a fee to have a bet taker come to you, but we cannot
facilitate your gambling. Lastly, the cage on the balcony exists for a reason.
Try not to drop your drink. It is slanted and even the tables have catches.”
“Is that all?” Tarla asked.
“Enjoy your stay,” Misty said, cuing into her dismissal.
We entered the lavish suite and saw lush carpet, wooden chairs, and
a nice table. The overbearing stone had been finally removed to make the
place seem more like home. Colorful decorative pillows sat on a couch that
looked uncomfortable.
Diverting my attention to the only door, I saw a massive four post
bed with a tiny dresser next to the wall.
“Damn, that bed could sleep ten,” I muttered.
“I’ll set pillows and take half,” Bell said, avoiding the ‘who sleeps
on the couch’ discussion.
The room even had an attached bathroom with plumbing.
“How do they get water pressure?” I asked.
“How does water get in here for the shower and the toilet?” Bell
asked, and I nodded. “Water mages walk to the roof and fill reservoirs that
use gravity. My class has a lot of uses in a city. Come on, the next fight is
starting.”
“Sweet, excitement,” Tarla said, rubbing her hands together.
“Actually, you and I are going shopping,” Bell said, and Tarla
groaned. “We’re shopping for you know what. There’s a few gold coins on
the counter if you want to gamble. Back soon.”
The ‘you know what’ piqued my interest, but before I could ask,
both ladies left awash in giggles. They were happy, and I didn’t want to
spoil their mood.
I headed to the balcony, hearing a broadcaster announce a fight
between a spider queen with ten minions versus three knights. I was a bit
surprised when the arena bellowed that the odds were starting at even.
Taking my seat, I noticed at least a few thousand other spectators in
balconies like mine. I was impressed by the grandeur of the space. So many
balconies faced the arena with a slight decline that it reminded me almost of
a square opera house. My seat was bolted down, and a high, thin rail
protected idiots from falling.
Down below, the main arena seating went three stories high. The
flat benches - stepped up - at an incline, and the lack of free space, told me
this venue normally drew a crowd. I gazed down, and waited for the
excitement, and then waited some more as the betting continued, the odds
changing only a smidge.
The betting phase must have been torturous on the competitors. I
cheered when the central part of the arena lifted with a trembling might. A
plateau formed, and only a sole announcer stood in the middle.
I saw the spider queen and her spiderlings tense, weapons no longer
lazily being held. The ten minions spread out, arranging themselves
randomly. I wasn’t sure who would win, but I did see a poise and
determination in their movements.
On the other side, one of the knights checked the other two, and all
three dropped visors. Without a doubt, these were eager warriors. They
patted each other confidently as if new and not worried. Their horses
nickered and stomped the hard, dusty terrain until billows of dust lifted.
I grew excited for the small scale battle and wished I could have bet
on the knights. I’d fought spiderlings before and knew their prowess was
lacking. I had also fought them when they couldn’t cast very well, and they
routed quickly. The knights had runic armor and valiant steeds.
A knock on the door almost interrupted the start.
I pulled out a dagger, not overly concerned while still being
cautious. Misty let me know it was my food.
I hollered for her to enter and set it on the main dining table. She
noticed I was alone and asked if I needed a companion.
I politely declined and grabbed an ale quickly, plopping back into
my seat just in time.
The announcer shouted, “Three, two, one… BEGIN!”
The cavalry did what I expected, bursting into an epic charge with
lances high to the crowd. The arena stretched for a mile or two, allowing
plenty of time for the horses to pick up speed.
A spiderling ran for the plateau that provided the only cover in the
large arena. The spider queen and her group backed up to the far wall until
it was at their backs. I frowned, not hating the concept, but not sure how
swords would stop the cavalry.
Sure, they wouldn’t charge head on, but maybe from an angle? The
moment the three knights in their tight formation passed the middle plateau,
the single spider unleashed a spike of ice.
A blue shield flared over the lead horse. The shielding bursting the
ice magic apart in a dazzling display. The crowd cheered and yea, I slurped
some ale at the show. I had to wonder how much of the fight was scripted if
any at all.
The knights ignored the lone spiderling. The trio weaved left to set
up a charge against the back wall.
“She should have used the corner,” I grumbled. “Why aren’t you
using magic?”
The spider queen and the knights both didn’t react until the last
second. The spiderlings ran out of the way, abandoning the queen to her
fate.
I gasped, figuring she was doomed.
The queen leaped up, sticking to the wall higher than the knights’
lances could reach. The knights hastily cast, flinging a fireball, an arcane
bolt, and a lightning strike.
These knights were powerful, their spells far greater than what
Tarla could manage. Each of the three forms of magic crashed into the
queen.
Her blue shield died with her. The spider’s torso exploded,
becoming a gory mess that stained upon the wall.
The knights fixated on the destruction, even cheering while gazing
upon the dead enemy leader. The spiderlings swirled magic the entire time
and conjured a dirt wall. At least three of them had to be geomancers.
The horses couldn’t stop in time, and the knights continued to
proudly gaze up at their target. One second they rode a mount, the next they
hit a wall at full charge.
Crack!
A shudder quaked through the arena, the crash into the erected wall
affecting even my chair. The horrific sight created an incredible cheer from
the crowd.
Impressive and terrifying. These are trained strivians. Their size
deceived even me.
The wall burst into bits of gray and brown. Each rider and horse
separated, tumbling across the arena. Not wasting a second, the spiderlings
rushed forward. Their four legs surged with power, flicking up tufts of dry
terrain.
I watched their mad dash, knowing none of the knights had a
healer. One of the spiderlings meditated, linking to the queen’s orb. I gulped
my beer greedily, knowing what was coming.
Unable to contain myself, I plopped the ale onto the railed end
table, and I stood, cheering with the rest of the crowd. The spiderlings
reached the fallen knights and finished their gruesome work and slaying the
humans.
The heavens roiled in anger. The bright day beamed down a
horrifically bright light and BOOM!
Across the arena, a cacophony of blue, shimmering shields strained
against the wash of unkempt magic. When the spider queen returned to full
form, she looted the dead, not touching the orbs, only the gear.
Not a single loss. All because the enemy focused on the big target
while ignoring the grunts.
I had to think back on my fight with Tela. All those spiderlings
were an untrained mob, unable to cast because they were so crowded. These
soldiers were skilled and highly trained. I was impressed and would have to
consider if the old adage of ‘kill the enemy leader and win’ was always
valid. I certainly knew Charlie preferred that; the warhorse had done
something similar in our tunnel fight, fixating on Tela.
Yeah, I certainly was excited to get a new mount and to see what
epic fight happened next.
CHAPTER 46
Lind Kingdom
“You sure?” Tarla asked, trying to hold my hand longer.
I grinned down at the delightful woman, pulling away to reach the
door.
“I spent all evening watching strivians, humans, and god knows
what else kill each other yesterday. You girls literally shopped until you
dropped.” I playfully shook my head with a snicker. “Even when we
marched hard for hours, you didn't snore that hard.”
Tarla’s brows raised, and her cheeks puffed. “Damien Moonguard,
you do not tell a lady she snores. It is not true.” Her finger wag didn’t help
her case.
“I guess the farts at night don’t exist either?” I snickered playfully.
She swatted my arm, not actually mad.
“We saved a hundred and fifty Z for you to use shopping for
animals,” Bell said, giggling at the silly banter.
“I thought we had four hundred and something Z?” I asked in
astonishment.
“Indeed, we did,” Bell said.
Tarla rolled her eyes happily when I affectionately kissed her cheek
a hundred times. “You two… I’m trying to be serious. Wagons were cheap,
and I may have grabbed a nicer one than needed, but it can be used with the
portals or outside the church.”
“That’s excellent news. So… where did all the Z go?”
Tarla fidgeted and said, “We’re running low on the cloth and wool
from the dwarves. We bought some finer cloth for soft sheets and less,” she
tapped her chin, finding the right word, “gruff appearances.”
“We don’t need fine clothing,” I grumbled.
“I want a damn dress when we’re at home. And I’m not alone in
that want,” Tarla said, not snapping, but asserting herself. I knew how this
argument went and wisely kept my mouth shut. “Look, Damien, it’s time to
realize we’re not going to Earth tomorrow no matter what we do. I called
this place home because it is our home for the foreseeable future.”
Bell immediately swapped gear. “Then there was the cost for the
winter jackets. We’re going to experience winter soon, and only so many
are buying the furs now. Best to buy them while we can and while they’re
cheap. I tried to hire some crew, but no one was interested in traveling away
from Lind, and to be fair, I didn’t disclose much,” Bell said.
“Then there’s the tools,” Tarla added, and Bell nodded. “Cheap and
in surplus. All Seqa has is mining gear and a few hatchets. We can turn on
another smelter now, add a carpentry shop, and we even bought some
fishing gear.”
“I guess it all adds up quickly. The struggles of starting a new city.
Alright, so, you ladies coming, or are you going to relax?” I asked.
“Relax,” they said in unison.
“Hey…” I hesitated. “Thanks for shopping. I know it's a risk for me
to go out.”
“No one followed us, and no one cares about Ostriva points here,”
Tarla said with a sigh. “If we didn’t have a home, this would do nicely.”
“I get it, I really do. Alright, be safe, and if I get into trouble, I’m
running for the portal and my minions, not here,” I said.
“No issues from the minions?” Bell asked.
“No issues so far,” I said, taking my leave.
I snatched the sack of Zorta off the counter, tucking it into an
interior pocket. When I left the room, Tarla bolted the door behind me. The
trip down the stairs had me reflecting on when I had last been alone in a
city.
The last city I had been in was Tarb, but I started thinking about
Stri, the minotaur city.
I wondered how that siege went and reminded myself that I should
plan a trip to see Oskatriver. The big minotaur probably had an excess of Z
for books.
If anything, this trip emphasized how important trading was for us.
It also showed the benefits of using the portal. Having neighbors to trade
with would make a big difference. Of course, I realized there were enemies
all around us. Arax was hunting me. Clearing the centaurs to find a route
south might lead to issues too. Those were problems for another day.
I exited the hotel, seeing the scattered clouds obscuring the sun. I
flashed one of the lads a claim token, and he raced to get me a horse. Even
if I wasn’t in fine armor, I didn’t want to walk among the masses.
My face dropped when he arrived with a happy Charlie who
continuously neighed proudly. The horse had clearly been up to something
mischievous.
“I tried to get one of the mares, but he scared them back. You’re
welcome to try to swap them,” the young man said, handing me the reins.
“Ha, no. He’d bite me for trying to pen him up again. Thanks for
saddling him,” I said, sticking a foot in a stirrup.
A few minutes later, we walked into the busy traffic of the capital. I
stopped by a book shop along the way, picking up a cheap book on the
mythical creature of Nordan. Its aged and weathered cover spoke of a time
before the cataclysm.
I then found a nice battle staff for a fire mage. At least the salesman
told me it was impressive and a great deal. In actuality, it likely wasn’t
because he had thrown in the book for free. The sentiment mattered. I
returned to see the store guards admiring Charlie.
When they asked about his heritage, I frowned, saying I didn’t
know. The commoners did glance at Charlie a lot, and I had to wonder if I
was making a mistake by replacing him.
No, no I was not.
I laughed to myself. The horse eyed me as if he knew my thoughts.
I didn’t see gryphons, dragons, or wyverns in the sky, and if I did see them,
I doubted a hundred and thirty-five Z would cover their cost.
After we crossed into the tunnel, I felt eyes on me - not the kind
watching the man on the nice horse eyes either. I scanned over both
shoulders.
“Hmm…” I muttered, clearly seeing I was being followed. “What
an odd turn of events.”
My tail was none other than a unicorn. Yup, a flipping unicorn
without a rider followed me.
I turned left, gliding through the crowd. Sure enough, it followed.
My frown deepened when I reached the sign for the stables, and I turned
down the side road with my riderless unicorn no more than a dozen feet
back.
A few thoughts went through my mind. The first thing that came up
was to check the conveniently purchased book.
Yeah, that would have been too easy. After flipping through the
pages, I learned there were no unicorns on Nordan before the cataclysm.
At this point, I stopped Charlie. The unicorn stopped too.
I sighed, realizing I would need to ask someone. I nudged Charlie
toward an opening up ahead. A strong tug of air whipped from behind me
and toward this new cavern.
The sun beat down in the animal market. A plateau, similar to the
one in the arena, had a dozen mages casting wind spells. They gusted wind
upward, cycling fresh air through the underground network and out the top
of this coverless section of mountain.
A circular setup of barns, stalls, pens, and vendors rested inside a
high horizontal fence. I could see all sorts of animals, and if it weren’t for
the damned unicorn, I would have been excited. I never really had pets, but
since arriving on Nordan, I kinda wished I had gotten beastmaster over
necromancer.
The gates were propped open and guards asked for an entry fee.
The ladies had warned me of this. I was more than happy to see a guard.
“Excuse me,” I said.
“Silver for entry. This is not a zoo,” the guard said to a street
ruffian that reminded me of the girl from the day before.
“I’ll pay her way, mine, and an extra silver to know what a unicorn
is,” I said.
I handed the guard a gold coin, and he left to get change.
“I’m confused,” the little girl said eyeing me with furled brows.
Her wild hair was in desperate need of a wash. “Unicorns are unicorns.”
“Why is one in the city, and why would it follow me?” I said,
thumbing the unicorn a few paces back.
She stared at me like I was stupid. Her next snide remark hit me in
the feels. “Just ask him, dummy.”
“Ah, they can talk.” I pieced it together, turning to see the unicorn
smile.
The guard returned with silver coins for change, waving me into the
market.
I trotted Charlie, deciding to talk to the interesting unicorn inside
the animal market. Not many others rode horses, but some did. We parted
the crowd to find a quiet spot between two stalls.
“What do you want?” I asked in Nordan.
The unicorn neared and said, “I need your help regarding a delicate
matter.”
I grumbled.
Shit, he said that in Strivian.
I frowned. “I really just want to shop.”
The unicorn eyed me flatly and said, “You smell of death. You tried
to cover it, and to most, you did. Not to a tigran. There’s a curiosity hunt for
you right now.”
“Of course there is,” I said, believing him. “Well, what do you want
help with? I’m not following you into a trap.”
“Strivian have no power here, and you’re playing by the rules. That
doesn’t mean the wrong word in the wrong ear won’t end in your death.
The big thing is that we wanted to confirm what I suspected,” the unicorn
said.
I waved at a mom and her two sons who watched our chat. The
boys’ jaws dropped, eyeing us with wonderment. I could fathom it wasn’t
every day a unicorn had a conversation with a man in Strivian.
“And that is?” I asked.
“That you’re human. While possible, it’s rare. More importantly,
you’re not from here, and that is where you come into play,” the unicorn
said.
I scrunched my brow, letting him see my disdain for the situation.
“Let me guess, there’s a betrayal in the court, and only I can stop it by
stabbing the king's concubine in the back. Doing so saves the divorce and
an illegitimate bastard must be rushed to safety at all costs.”
“Damn, you must read a lot of books,” the unicorn said with a
snicker.
“I… What do you need help with, oh great and wise mysterious
unicorn,” I countered.
He deadpanned. “I’m a tigran priest, not a unicorn. My friends call
me High Priest Nettle.”
That sent my arm hairs on edge. Priest meant gods, and gods
concerned me. Especially Arax. A priest that could change his very
appearance? Well, that was divine magic. He could just be a loony unicorn
for all I knew.
I glanced around, finally seeing a tigran conversing with a vendor.
While it might be a coincidence, I doubted it.
“I’m Damien, and I’m not sure I want to help,” I said.
“There’s a reward…” The lips never synced with the words, and I
found I just had to look into the rainbow-colored eyes of the fanciful
creature.
“Ah, the fallacy of earning a payday for free,” I said rudely. “You
give me a mission, I complete it hoping for a nice reward, and you cross me
to get what you want while keeping your coins. I really do want to go
animal shopping.”
“Fine. Do you know about the history of Lind since the peace?” I
shook my head. While I did know some, hearing it from him mattered. “I
have a dear friend, a young woman I’m entrusted to protect. Her birth
mother is a tigran, and her father is a human. Her arrival on this world was
heralded as a great feat. The baby wasn't a tigran, it was a hybrid.
“I see you growing confused which means I definitely found the
right person. Please, listen, and then collect your reward. The father, well,
he is the brother of the queen. No line to the throne, but very dearly loved.
Desly, the hybrid, thinks her mother died in childbirth.”
“But her mother didn’t, and now you’re pretending to be a unicorn
to watch over her. While I applaud the duplicity, I miss the relevance.”
“Yes, quite right. Delsy will like you. You need to understand that
peace is tumultuous at best. Humans breed slower than tigrans, and our
farms are bursting, allowing us and the darthians to over-populate. We need
war or an expansion that will lead to war. It’s bad enough we’re considering
fighting a massive centaur herd - with the humans' help - to allow our kind
to expand,” Nettle said.
“Relevance? And how can I help?” I asked.
“Delsy is special, clearly a one of a kind. So far, no other hybrids
have been born. As you can imagine, this led to her development being
celebrated as a sign of two species becoming one.
“Delsy’s name day passed a few months ago. Imagine what would
happen if the most famous dual species member of the two races suddenly
reveals a dark secret. The celebration of her name never happened, the great
union of tigran and human swept under the rug mysteriously. Worst of all,
Delsy has been imprisoned in a monastery ever since,” Nettle said. “I
actually like the young woman. I like her a lot.”
I huffed, liking a good mystery…in a book, not in my life. I did
parse his words into something I could follow. Name day was magic reveal
day. She earned a magic. A magic both sides feared. A magic that -
“Six hells,” I said, figuring it out. “The queen’s niece is a…” I
didn’t dare say necromancer out loud. “Was the tigran mother important?”
“No, she was a… working girl. Her father, a man of importance and
a limited connoisseur. There are sides forming to figure out what to do.
Some are dark in intent while others only want what is best. Others just
want to know the situation.
“I’m with the queen, the human one, not my actual matriarch in
Lasing. Our capital is readying for war, and right now, they’re demanding
the humans join them with Delsy,” Nettle said.
Everything finally made sense.
“You need me to steal her so that no one ever knows what she is,
and the fault falls away from both sides, allowing the peace to persist,” I
said, hanging my head.
“If not, she dies. The humans will never allow a necromancer
among them.”
I shrugged at this, saying, “Everyone dies, including those we care
the most about. I’m not from Lind. I think the gods are sending a message.
The two sides should fight. These streets are packed. Your cities are too.”
“Ah, like I said, there’s a reward and an unofficial blessing,” Nettle
said, and I rolled my wrist. “Five thousand Zorta. Right here in this pouch.”
“Alright, I suddenly find myself wanting this hybrid girl to live and
for there to be peace,” I admitted with a nod. “Open the purse.”
He did so, allowing me to verify the contents. It was as he said - a
big whopping reward rested inside the pouch.
“There’s a second payment with Delsy. Save her, and you’ll be well
rewarded and have a powerful ally. Are you ready to hear the plan?” the
unicorn asked, and I nodded. “You need to travel outside the city, to the
Osari Monastery. There you will -”
I held up a hand. “I’ll raze the building and take prisoners. What
are their defenses?”
The unicorn gulped, but he nodded. “There’s only a few guards
because we didn’t want it known she was there. If you do it your way, the
queen will learn the true price of peace is blood. She’ll not bat an eyelash,
and my matriarch will believe the tale if you use your... talents.”
“And your shadows?” I asked, nodding to one of the tigrans
pretending not to watch us.
“Loyalists to peace. All of whom have been promised control of
new lands once held by the centaurs. They’re on our side,” Nettle said,
handing me the pouch.
“I could have gotten more,” I said, and he nodded. “How long do I
have to break her free?”
“You should do it tonight. Tomorrow, she is due to travel from the
Capital to Lasing.”
“Got a map?” I asked. He shook his head no. “Are you coming with
me?”
“No, but I’d like to. You’ll be delivered a map when you return to
your room. That should make you feel safer. If you run off with the Zorta, it
was always a long-shot attempt and worth the cost.”
“I assure you that I’ll feel better when I am with my army,” I said
sternly.
He eyed me with curiosity. “I didn’t catch what hotel you were at.”
“You’ll have to follow me home. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need a
new battle mount,” I said.
“Uh… that horse could kick my ass. You won’t find a finer stallion
in this shit heap. Only up top in the noble market.”
“Dammit, I know Charlie is awesome. I want something besides a
reckless ram, a bloodthirsty warhorse, and a snoozing mare,” I said.
“You can ride me,” he said.
I closed my eyes, deeply inhaling at his awkward phrasing. "I
previously had a bear mount. He was great if I would have saddled him
better. Is there something like that here?”
“I mean, if you were a beastmaster, maybe one of the big cats.” He
sighed when I frowned. “There’s other horses around, some nice draft
variations with the frilly feet. A male would be nice as the females tend to
be moody about riders on their backs. The humans have been breeding them
for a few decades.”
“Both,” I said with certainty. Horses and more animals to kill for
me were perfect.
“I guess we already made a scene. Might as well get this over with
and get out of town,” Nettle grumbled.
We passed rows of plain horses, many of them past their prime.
Next, loud mooing revealed a herd of big cows. I saw a collared tigran
sweeping the pen and frowned.
“Are there slaves for sale?” I asked.
“Not here, no. Lasing, yes, but only dumb Ostravians.” He snorted.
I raised a brow at him using the different name. “There’s a list of what is
allowed. What you’re seeing here is something different. We punish our
criminals by having them wear collars and do hard labor here. Humans send
their criminals to us. Works wonders. No slaves in the four cities of Ling.
And here we are,” he said.
We arrived at a large pen of forty something horses that stood a few
hands taller than Charlie. Nettle cleared his throat. Each of the Clydesdale
looking horses were majestic, mighty, and relaxing around a trough. They
were listed at twenty Zorta each.
“Only twenty Zorta?” I muttered in dismay. “So cheap.”
Nettle snorted and said, “First, twenty Zorta is a lot. A dead horse is
worth a quarter of that. Second, -”
Charlie burst into a jump.
“Arrrgggg,” I cried out as I flew out of the saddle in a fraction of
second. I guess I had grown complacent in thinking the warhorse would be
a model citizen.
Thwack!
My back slammed onto the hard stony floor, and the wind left my
lungs. I cast heal self, letting folks see that I was a healer. A calloused hand
shot down to help me up.
“Get yer stallion out of my pen,” the weathered woman demanded.
I dusted myself off, taking deep inhales of air. Gathering myself, I
vaulted into the pen.
“You dense idjet, they’re carefully breed warhorses. They’re
assholes and I’m not paying your revival fee,” the seller shouted.
“She’s exaggerating, but yeah, warhorses are assholes,” Nettle said
in agreement.
A big white female Clydesdale trotted up to Charlie, the two
squaring off in an animalistic dance.
“Ha, he’ll kick your ass,” I said in perfect Strivian.
The unicorns froze, maybe knowing no human should speak their
language so well, and maybe just surprised that I After my distraction, Charlie caught her, getting a clean mount. He
neighed happily, going for a home run in horse terms. I turned around,
leaving them to do adult horse things.
No one said a word as I returned to the seller.
“I’ll take the female,” I said, tossing a thumb over my shoulder.
“Ya sure?” she asked. “She’s a right bitch. I got a quality stallion
that’s less pricey.”
I mulled it over. Eventually, I would be able to trade with the
dwarves again. This was a trade investment. At least that was how I
justified it to myself.
“Give me both. Here’s the twenty Z per as advertised. Send her and
him to Kesso’s stall 7-D when done,” I said.
She haggled for a fee to store Charlie, then a fee to move him and
the new female. I gave her a gold coin. That shut her up and allowed us to
leave without further haggling.
I walked with a chuckling Nettle.
“She’s going to be pissed,” he said. “The male should be a nice
companion, though.”
“Yeah, well, challenging Charlie was a downfall. Life and its
lessons,” I said, walking by a whole bunch of poultry birds.
After the birds, we passed stinky pens holding pigs. Next were
hounds of all sorts, even a pack of cereberus. Beyond the hounds were
house dogs and small cats, the pets of Lind.
Bell came to mind as a cat person, clearly. I contemplated
purchasing her a few small cats. We seemed to be in excess of meat, and all
the puppies were growing quickly. I strutted happily when I saw a half
dozen angry jenix cats.
I walked over to the cage that was labeled arena fighters with a
warning to not get too close.
“What do you want with these?” Nettle asked.
I glanced around, still being careful with what I said.
“They’re amazing hunters. The best way to earn Z is through
killing hundreds of small creatures not the big ogres,” I said.
“Hence why we have massive fish farms. Humans share
differentiating opinions normally,” he said.
“Winning matters,” I grunted.
“I think it is a neat strategy. Even beastmasters struggle to control
feral cats,” Nettle pointed out. “This is where we part ways.”
“If you’re serious, send a map to D-7,” I said.
The unicorn eyed me for a long few seconds. The crowd of
shoppers watching us as they passed by. I could tell he was sad, knowing he
had to rely on a maybe for something so vital to him.
“I have faith,” he said, and left.
I watched the horn on his head bob over the crowd as he departed. I
knew I would have a tough decision to make, but first, I needed to finalize
my shopping.
I waved the salesman over.
“Prices please,” I asked when he arrived.
“The name’s Mica. The striped tooths come from the north, same
with the leopards,” the man in his prime said in a smooth tone. He was a
salesman without a doubt. His prime age, pristine attire, and big smile did
help me feel at ease. “Kerny, get over here.”
The actual worker showed up. A young man, not in his prime yet.
The poor kid had been mauled repeatedly with numerous partial healings
evident. A long, red cut showed he hadn’t been healed yet from a recent
attack.
I went to heal him, but a street kid bumped my hip, likely trying
steal my purse. I glance around, finding the culprit vanished into the crowd.
“Everything okay?” Mica asked.
“How much for the leopards to start?” I asked, glaring down at the
cage. They looked like jenix cats, but I could have been wrong. Zoology
was never my expertise.
“Five Z per. The biggens are thirty per,” Mica said.
“Oof,” I grunted, as if phased by this. “I can get the whole lot of
little cats for the price of one big one. Should help my odds, though. I’ll
take them. Deliver them to Kesso’s hotel, stable D-7.”
I extracted three orbs, shocking the man by paying the full price.
He ushered Kerny to load up a nearby hand cart with six cages. Mica
departed for a new sale while Kerny asked me to lead the way.
I left without a big cat, talking with Kerny about an employment
opportunity. I wanted to go shopping, and while I did manage a few
purchases - I once again found a battle on the horizon.
Deep down, I enjoyed the idea of freeing another necromancer as
much as I found joy in healing Kerny and offering him a home with higher
pay. I really hoped the ladies weren’t going to be too upset.
CHAPTER 47
Lind Forest
“I hear rustling from the woods,” Kerny said, gulping with fright.
On the way back, I contemplated what had brought him to my side
on the dangerous mission. The young man had seen Bell, got puppy dog
eyes, and immediately signed on to be an animal healer in Seqa. He was
missing some key facts as to what Seqa would pertain.
He did understand how portals worked, making him think we were
wealthy lords. I used a bullshit story that our portal was ending soon so we
had to hurry out of the city. We left around lunch without any issues other
than Misty delivering a letter that a tigran gave her.
The message was a map. Finally, I felt like the people of this world
didn’t value a good map for some odd reason.
I patted Kerny’s back reassuringly, trying to calm his fears. My
minions weren’t too far, and we hadn’t been followed. Unless there was a
random bandit ambush, we would be fine.
We had only just left the main road between the four cities of Lind
and Lasing. Additional rustling from the sides of our path caused me to
worry. My minions weren’t making the noise which meant his concern had
some merit.
“Come to me, all haste,” I said, my voice but a whisper in the wind.
The setting sun dragged on for much longer than I, or our attacker,
anticipated. I adjusted my heavy armor, raising my shield and leveling my
crossbow. I stared out, seeing nothing but trees, thick underbrush, and the
changing foliage of fall.
“I know you’re out there,” I shouted, not caring in the slightest that
I was lying.
It could be the heavy wind for all I knew and the forests were
known to create noises. I had a feeling though, that odd sense of being
watched.
We had two wagons, five mounts, four humans, and the jenix cats.
Our heavily laden goods, traveling down an old trail in the evening, had
likely seemed like a juicy target.
When the enemy refused to reveal themselves, I told Bell and Tarla,
“Pick up and run.”
The snap of reins shot across the forest. The mares up front jolted
the wagon forward. The Clydesdales complained but kept pace.
Our attackers, who apparently wanted to wait for night, suddenly
had to make a hard decision. Run and reveal themselves or wait to attack us
later that night when we camped.
I smirked, feeling we had won.
Crack!
The sudden noise ahead forced Bell to ease up on the reins. A large
tree teetered and then crashed to the ground.
Thud.
The healthy branches caused the obstruction to bounce in place.
The reality of our situation had only begun to sink in.
Twang!
An arrow whizzed out of the trees, sinking into Kerny’s thigh.
“Hells!” he cried.
A second projectile dove into his chest. He clutched the arrow, eyes
widening as he gurgled blood before falling over.
Tarla unleashed a fireball, and I scampered into the wagon bed.
Thunk!
An arrow embedded into the wagon, missing me by inches. The
chaos proceeded to only increase with the sounds of a man screaming in
torment.
“Forget Dest. We got a healer,” an enemy leader shouted.
“Front drivers are dead,” a different voice bellowed.
“Hurry the fuck up,” I muttered to my minions.
I huffed, hating warfare because it never went as expected.
I had finally walked into an ambush. I grumbled, ashamed as I hid
between the jenix cages. Tarla, Kerny, and Bell all died in the opening
salvo, and I had no idea how long it would take for my minions to arrive.
So yeah, I cowered behind cover, trying to keep out of sight from
the enemy archers.
“One of the riders is in the back of wagon two, Chief,” a human
voice said.
While I hadn’t seen our attackers, it made sense for them to be
human. Bows were probably hard for a tigran to fire.
A lot of things raced through my mind as I heard the crunch of
approaching footsteps.
“You need to let them know you’re coming,” I whispered to my
minions.
The sound of swords hitting shields reverberated through the
woods, closer than I expected. I breathed in relief, knowing my attackers
would be concerned.
I continued to hide, not risking my neck. Yeah, it was cowardly.
The wagon’s frame protected me, and the enemy was unwilling to fire
arrows into the potential loot.
“Uh… Chief,” a hesitant voice said. “We’ve been setup.”
Twang!
Snap!
My troops unleashed their crossbows, the bolts zipping across the
small clearing, and into the enemy. The bandits scrambled, trying to adjust
to the new threat that approached.
“Brace for a charge, find cover!” their Chief commanded.
Snapping branches and a whole lot of bushes rustled. An army
approached, and I grinned in delight.
“The undead! Run!” a voice screamed in sheer panic.
“Hold the line. They’ll never tire and run us down,” the Chief cried
out. “Fools! You -”
A blood curdling scream pierced the darkening forest. The best part
was that it came from behind, indicating the death of someone who had fled
first.
I scrambled out from the wagon bed, hearing my heavy infantry
crashing through the underbrush. When I shimmied out of the wagon bed, I
saw the coward had been forgotten about.
The enemy no longer approached the wagons. Instead, they shook
in their boots. I spied a few forest rangers standing in shock while most fled
for their lives.
Mini led the charge. The fearsome minotaur skeleton deflected or
ignored the few arrows that tried to down him.
The lidka were not far behind, and the trolls completed the charge. I
saw a few eyes dart to the leader, seeking guidance for how to avoid what
was likely an inevitable death. The tide had turned in my favor, and I
sneered at my stunned foe.
All the men froze at some point, shock setting in when they
realized what was happening. The leader raised his weapon, ready to give a
rallying cry.
Before he could utter a word, I leveled my crossbow.
Snap!
The bolt cracked through the back of his skull, ejecting out the
front. His body teetered before crashing to the ground.
Mini reached the enemy first, cleaving a man in two. Twelve
became ten in a fraction of a second. Crossbow bolts zoomed out of the
forest. Dozens missed, but three found their targets.
Make that seven.
I yanked my sword free, scampering off the wagon and positioning
for the inevitable.
A ranger turned, not willing to fight Mini in melee combat. He ran
right into my waiting blade, piercing his neck and killing himself.
Asha arrived, free firing his bow, each shot a kill. He wisely only
revealed himself when the fight was a foregone conclusion and the infantry
arrived.
Mini ran down a fleeing human, using a swipe so powerful the poor
man’s torso parted at the waist.
I could have granted quarter and told my minions to take prisoners.
Not for these bandits. They would die to the last.
I knelt, dragging the stained blade against the cloak of the ranger.
With the final death creating an eerie silence, I tucked my sword into its
home.
“Good job on staying alive, Damien,” Asha said, approaching from
the dense forest.
I scoffed, unhappily. “I hid like a bitch. Charlie had more fighting
than me,” I said, seeing the horse stomping a body. “Oye, Charlie, stop that.
I may want to raise the dead.”
“Not that one,” Asha snickered with a headshake.
“Right. Minions. Remove this tree, loot the dead, someone scout
for a camp, and then we need to get Bell and Kerny to healers in Seqa,” I
ordered.
Walking to the front wagon, I saw Tarla near the wheel. An arrow
was lodged in her shoulder blade. Based on her final resting place, she’d
fallen off the driver’s bench, breaking her neck in the fall.
I sighed, closing my eyes to link to her orb.
Resurrect Tarla Moonguard (YES) or (NO) - Selecting (NO)
will incur Ostriva points. Tarla is pregnant, the odds of saving her baby
are 76%. This can be improved by leveling your healing.
And there it was.
My precautions during our lovemaking were irrelevant. Her
stubborn desire for future children laid bare. I didn’t grow sad, instead
smiling with joy.
I was on Nordan, not Earth. I was the champion of a god, not a
regular guy trusting our precautions were enough.
Tarla was pregnant, and she had died. Thankfully, I could save her
and the baby … maybe.
I knew the percentage of success was high, but I wished it were a
hundred percent.
In this case, I knew Tarla wanted a baby. Her options were open to
abort with herbs and potions. Instead, she talked with me, working a slow
angle. The secret shopping for ‘you know what’ was baby items that were
not so cleverly hidden in the back of the front wagon.
Those items were part of why I was in the second wagon. I didn’t
mind listening to the young man pining over Bell. I understood her
perfections were crafted by an actual goddess and her looks were
enchanting.
I dropped my wandering thoughts and revived my lover.
The dark sky split, a golden beam crashing down until it smacked
into Tarla. She glowed brightly, the arrow falling out of her back and her
neck popping into place with a loud snap.
The magic ejected power in a circle of pushing air, creating a nice
breeze over my heavy armor. As the light faded, Tarla stood there clutching
her belly with concern.
She raced for me, leaping into my arms.
“Oh Damien, thank you,” she said, becoming a sobbing mess. She
touched her belly. “He lives. Thank you, my Lord.”
I held her tenderly, not correcting her or even saying anything. I
focused on just realizing how close I had come to losing her.
Time melded until the tree blocking the road was slowly inched out
of the way with Mini pushing the large obstruction. A few minutes later, my
living minions hopped into the driver seats of the wagons, ready to get our
small caravan moving again.
I glanced down at the fourteen evenly laid out bodies of our
ambushers. All their gear and valuables were already tossed into the back
wagon. I had the Zorta to pick the rangers up, but I was nearing my current
limit of fifty minions.
There always seemed to be a choose your own adventure type
choice. In this case, I decided to play it safe. I would raise the dead then
turn them to dust after our attack if I needed to. Best to have a bigger army
at the start of a fight.
Hugging my lover extra tight, I kissed Tarla on the forehead.
“I need you to be strong,” I said in a soft, comforting voice.
The fiery redhead nodded, kissing my cheek in thanks.
“What do you need me to do?” she asked, her resolve firming.
“Lead the wagons to Seqa. Ensure Bell and Kerny get revived. Bell
is the priority. Then beautify our estate while I go on this mission. I’ll
expect a warm welcome home,” I said, kissing her cheek.
I handed her the bag with the five thousand Zorta in it. A minute
later, the wagons left for the portal.
Charlie, my skeleton minions, and Asha stayed behind with me. I
would plan while the others sent my lover and our supplies home.
Asha arrived, gazing over the bodies. “Got a dozen low tier horses
and two fine stallions, but nothing close to Charlie.”
“Is the counter on the portal still zero?” I asked. He held up two
fingers. “Interesting. What happened?”
“We dug up trees and some squirrels in a hollowed-out nest counted
as portal crossings,” Asha said.
“Lessons. Every adventure teaches us lessons, a theme repeated
over and over,” I said.
“In hindsight, allowing me to scout this route would have been
prudent,” Asha said.
I stared at him flatly. “Your mission was to harvest the forest
without leaving the portal. You’re the mission commander when I’m away,
not the commoner. I just need more scouts.”
“Well, you got some right here.” He chuckled, kicking the corpse of
the leader I had killed. “How was the city?” Asha asked.
“Netted five thousand Zorta already,” I said, and his eyebrows
almost reached his white hairline.
I proceeded to fill him in on the situation, handing him the map.
Not long after, my lidka walked over with our new horses. Each of them
had saddles with light packs on their backs. The proper gear told me these
humans hadn’t been poor folks acting out in desperation. They were semiprofessional thieves who had finally picked the wrong fight.
“I’ll raise them. We’ll let our revived dwarves and trolls ride the
mounts for now to secure the portal,” I said while Asha dug through the
gear.
Before I started, I sat down, crossing my legs.
“Death is life, power creates opportunity. Death is life, power
creates opportunity. Death is life, power creates opportunity,” I chanted.
I found the actual words matter far less than what the words did for
me. The chanting honed my concentration, bringing a sharper tune to my
aura.
I reached out, a powerful wave erupting from my being.
You have connected to 16 Humans, only 15 are claimable.
Would you like to claim (ALL) (GROUP) (SINGLE)
Interesting. I selected GROUP.
2 of the humans are no longer claimable as they have left the
area.
You have connected to 14 Humans, only 13 are claimable.
Would you like to claim (ALL) (GROUP) (SINGLE)
I selected all.
You selected to claim 13 minions. Consume 51.882 Zorta to
summon these creatures as minions of the undead. Confirm (YES) (NO)
I confirmed yes, knowing the unfolding magic would likely be
spotted from scouts in the area.
Crackling clouds of dark energy coalesced, forming a massive
storm overhead. A darkening curtain blotted the bright moonlight, casting
us in complete blackness. The flash of lightning revealed reapers falling
from above.
Loud and hard impacts shook the ground until the area trembled
with their might.
The reaper I had talked to before walked across the dead. Other
reapers hoisted the bodies, flinging them hard against the forest floor.
Hands shot up, consuming flesh with a hunger.
“There’s a spare corpse. Go ahead and claim the Zorta from the
smushed foe,” I said, pointing at the body of the trampled human.
“Thanks,” the reaper said, tugging the orb into his hand. “Four Z
added to your next level up. Good evening, Champion.”
“Good evening, Reaper,” I replied, and he did that odd transition
into the depths again. Watching him sink into hard terrain never grew old.
Shuffling feet revealed thirteen new skeletons who were very
confused, glancing around in shock that they lived again.
“Human minions, suppress memories,” I ordered.
Jark became a zombie, and I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Jark,
unsuppress memories. Come over here. You were in charge of harvesting
while I went into the city. Give me your report.”
“Thanks Boss. I really hate being out of control.” He glanced at the
skeleton humans with a sad sigh. “Umm… we did a whole lot of digging.
Forty-two of us working hard resulted in us extracting enough dirt to really
start applying the Tela expansion. We even dug out three large trees. We
had a squirrel problem, though, sorry.”
“I heard. Everything we do has a lesson. Even with the small error,
good job. I need you and the other revived minions to mount up and protect
the portal. Hopefully, we can raid before anyone comes to investigate the
outburst of magic that happened here,” I said, patting him on the shoulder.
He ran off to grab one of the mounts, quickly taking to the saddle.
Charlie trotted over to me, and I sighed. I guess I needed to ride the stallion
since the Clydesdales were already through the portal.
Asha helped me into the stirrup. My armor was a blessing and a
curse.
“Thoughts?” I asked my friend.
“Is the Zorta safe?” he asked.
“Yup. Tarla has the five thousand. The question is whether we go
home, accepting the win here, and the free Z… or do we save the hybrid?” I
muttered.
“She’s likely a champion,” Asha said.
I nodded and then tried my best to shrug. “I won’t kill her to go
home. Everything I’ve done here, has been from a morally gray or skewed
toward good. Killing her would take me to an evil level,” I said. I huffed
and added, “But… my deal with Nettle is done. He paid me to listen, not on
a promise to rescue the hybrid. I feel leaving would be perfectly fine.”
“In your eyes. You’ll be seen as evil for stealing by this Nettle and
those he represents,” Asha commented, and I went to quibble but shook my
head instead.
“You’re likely right, even if I see it as listening to his proposal.
Remember that book? The one from the dwarven necromancer?” I asked.
“Of course, I read it twice,” Asha said, mounting one of the new
stallions. “What is your point?”
“That beastmasters can trade beasts,” I said.
Asha trotted his stallion over, and I glanced at my skeleton army
that readied to leave the area.
“You’re thinking you can give her leveled minions during the portal
missions?” Asha asked.
“We won’t know if we don’t try. Burning a monastery to the ground
will be evil, though,” I replied, mulling over the options.
“Depending on the god, and who knows, maybe they have it
upgraded. I haven’t experienced it, but Bell did say that her church would
be a target for others,” Aska commented.
“Well, that seals the deal. Let’s learn what happens when you
ransack a church. Hopefully, the monks just let us in,” I said, urging Charlie
back toward Lind. “Follow us, my minions.”
The night sky shone bright, and then darkened sporadically during
our rapid pace north. The overhead clouds moved fast with the stiff breeze.
My army and I left the cover of the forest a half hour later, skirting
the main road for the farmlands. Within a few minutes, hawks spotted us,
diverting to tell those they answered to.
Charlie shifted from a trot to a run, and Asha’s stallion kept pace.
We thundered across the fields of barley, barreling for the monastery.
Right when I began to worry I should abandon the dangerous
mission, the lights in the distance revealed an outpost.
Charlie huffed, loving being able to jump over irrigation ditches
and destroy crops. I kept scanning the horizon, hoping we could outpace the
reinforcements that were surely being roused to the rescue.
The distance closed. As we neared the low walled monastery, I felt
a ward from an unknown force pushing me away. I frowned at this
development, slowing Charlie.
The monastery held no defensive towers, palisades, or a moat. The
interior of the short wall showcased a dozen basic one-story buildings.
Everything pointed to a plain, basic monastery. That is, except for the statue
in the center of the town dedicated to none other than Arax.
The shirtless god stood holding a sword and shield, arms
outstretched as if welcoming a falling rain.
Maybe I would need to kill this hybrid after all.
“What do you -?”
I was cut off mid-sentence when a tremendous bolt of power shot
down from the sky, slamming into the statue.
You have triggered a church’s defensive minion.
“Whoa, those are ten thousand Zorta,” Asha blurted, his eyes
glazed as he read a similar notification. I snickered. “What? I find the
church’s mechanics fascinating. I’ll kite the big guy and have the minions
get the girl.”
“There’s not even a champion in this region,” I said.
He shrugged, increasing his voice as he rode away, “Arax can only
have so many champions, and there’s a whole lot of regions. He’s first for a
reason.”
Asha nocked an arrow, sighted the massive defender, and fired.
The projectile pinged off a blue shield, and the defender zapped out
an arc of electricity. Asha’s stallion leaped over the attack, heading further
away from me and the monastery. Thankfully, he did so with the defender
slowly chasing him.
My minions caught up, and I led them into the city.
A monk rushed to greet us with a squad of infantry wearing Lind
colors.
“I assume you know why I’m here,” I said.
He eyed the thirty armored skeletons then turned to see the faltering
resolve of the guards at his back.
“We cannot give her up freely. We swore an oath to Tesana,” the
monk said.
“This is an Arax monastery,” I said in confusion.
Charlie never slowed, defiantly pulling me closer to a slaughter.
Mini clanged his swords, and I had everyone stop, bringing us back from
the brink.
“Arax is a god of Nordan, not a competing god of Tesana. The
devout do not push away the needy,” the monk scolded, his tone haughty.
“Those who worship other gods are welcome here, especially when they
grant donations to our cause.”
“Ah, you were paid to watch Delsy, and you think Arax is a neutral
god. I assure you he is not. You have three minutes to leave the monastery. I
am at war with Arax and will provide quarter to those who -”
Snap!
Bang!
A hole in the sleeve of the surprised monk’s robes told me the
monk had fired a small hidden crossbow. I glanced down, seeing a dent in
my armor.
My ability to deduce the situation didn’t reduce my shock. “You
shot me. Six hells, you flipping shot me!”
I sneered, leveling my sword.
“Bring me the hybrid and raze the monastery,” I commanded.
“Restrain those without weapons.”
Asha arrived with a tired horse, shouting, “A patrol nears. Be
grateful they only leveled the defender to one because it’s dumb and slow.”
The guards all glanced at one building, backing up slowly.
Mini charged into their loose formation like a bull. The lidka
arrived the second they tried to team up on the minotaur.
The eight men never stood a chance, scattering under the sudden
pressure of the undead. Charlie surged forward, knocking the monk down,
stomping his chest, and creating a sickening snap; his demise was over
before I could even fight him.
At least the man died with a dagger in his hand. Other monks
streamed out, fleeing without weapons.
“Don’t kill the defenseless,” I ordered.
Charlie carried me beyond the short fight of armored men versus
skeletons.
Mini simply fought too efficiently, and the lidka only added to the
slaughter. A lightning bolt slammed into a lidka, causing a flash in my
vision.
Lidka 7 has died, costing you 100 mana. You have one hour to
revive or collect the Zorta from the body. Cost to revive 133 Mana.
Current Mana 55/155. (YES) - (NO)
You lack the mana. Consume .011 Zorta to restore one hundred
mana and revive lidka 7. (YES) - (NO)
I selected yes.
A cloud of black magic swept across the fields, swaying the barley.
The dark material slithered near the ground, like a dense fog, until it
coalesced around the dead lidka. The air crackled with power, drowning out
the cries of fight.
When my minion stood again, I saw them attacking the central
tower. Mini tore chunks out of the metallic podium in an unnatural manner.
Magic was clearly at work.
“You’re seeing the destruction of a church,” a female voice said
from my side.
Delsy?
The woman carried a crossbow which wasn’t aimed at me. Her
face… it startled me. She stood on par for the height of a man. Her soft
cheeks, an odd snout, and a friendly smile. Very disarming if she weren’t
able to kill me. The hybrid had found me while I cast and had decided to
spare my life.
I shifted, glancing down at her. Charlie asked for scratches, as if
already knowing the outcome of our talk.
“Are you ready to learn necromancy?” I asked.
“Are you sure I should be learning from you?” she quipped.
“You’ll die if you stay,” I said dryly.
She snickered. “Twist my arm, Mr. Mancer.”
“Name’s Damien,” I said, offering her a boost up.
“Delsy, and I know I have to go. I want you to know that not only
do I not want to, but I consumed your reward,” she said.
I held my arm out, not taking it back.
“Zorta is not everything,” I said.
Delsy eyed me hesitantly, not wanting to accept it, but knowing she
had to. Her resolve tightened and she slapped her forearm to mine.
I yanked her up hard, swinging her behind me. Feeling like we had
overstayed our welcome, I charged the podium, seeing what would happen
when I struck it.
A quick swipe of my sword revealed a notification.
You have attacked a church of Arax. The church is at 1/1000
hitpoints. In order to destroy the church, you must destroy the
defender.
“That’s lame,” I grumbled, seeing Asha weaving between the
building and the defender looming closer. I shouted, “Retreat!”
Mini ran to two dead bodies, tucking them under his arms and
sprinting toward the portal.
“Why are they grabbing the dead?” Delsy asked.
“Uh… they’re my minions. I’m big on looting. Yeah, see, even the
lidka are snagging the guard’s bodies,” I said.
“They were good men,” Delsy said.
“Hmm…” I tried to find the right words.
Charlie saw a growing enemy in the distance, spurring us forward.
I held on tight, seeing my army outpacing the defender. Eventually,
the defender reached a stopping point, blasting a poorly aimed arc of
lightning at my retreating army.
Boom!
A bright explosion of electrical magic missed horribly. However, it
revealed our strength. Whomever commanded the knights in the distance
decided to wait for reinforcements. Or maybe it was a plant from Nettle's
team. They made it seem like they wanted to stop us but had to wait for
more troops.
The great thing about the undead was that they didn’t tire and we
didn’t need to slow our arduous pace.
“Where are we going?” Delsy asked, grunting while she clung to
my armor.
“To a distant town called Seqa, a town friendly to Necromancers,” I
said.
I never commented again about the soldiers she spoke highly of and
who I had turned undead. In a perfect world, they’d be worthless, they’d
respawn, and I’d never have to live with the fact their families would miss
them.
In the world I lived in, they were the unhappy truth to war. Not
everyone came home, and not everyone won.
After a hard ride, we arrived in the forest. We didn’t stop, but we
slowed our horses. When the skeletons caught up, we kept a steady pace,
riding for half an hour to our starting point.
I expected a double cross or for a griffin army to block our
departure, but none of that happened. I honestly thought the queen had set
this up, and therefore our escape was hesitantly allowed to happen, likely
excused as a nighttime misstep or something.
“Who’s that?” Jark asked as we entered a devastated clearing.
A literal land bridge went from the road to the portal. Everywhere I
looked, the landscape ceased to exist. To the sides of the bridge, huge
swaths of forest ceased to exist, as if a god had reached down and scooped
up the soil to bedrock.
“I’m Delsy, champion of Tesana, and -”
“Stop, please, where we go, you’re Delsy the necromancer. None of
you heard that she was a champion and none of you will remember
anything besides what I said. Toss the dead into the portal,” I commanded.
Mini stomped by me, chucking two dead soldiers into the portal.
The counter stayed at three. Bell and Kerny didn’t count, just like the dead
guards.
“Good, all the minions into the portal except Asha,” I commanded.
The skeletons and revived minions rushed into the portal. When it
was just us, I said, “Go back and forth until you know the counter is at a
hundred and closes the portal on this side.”
“As you command,” Asha said.
I rode into the portal with Delsy still clinging to me.
CHAPTER 48
Town of Seqa
“Rumor has it, someone stole a champion right out from under
Arax,” Caitlyn said, walking her spider queen body around to Tesana’s
Champion. “The old gods have deemed it a breach of faith in his abilities,
slapping him with a small fine.”
“I cannot confirm or deny these accusations,” I said with a
mischievous smile. “I did manage to bring home an enemy champion.
Caitlyn snickered, wagging a finger. “Such a shame for any
nefarious plots you might have. I struck a deal with Tesana…”
“Uh, you did what?” I blurted.
“Your protege will be building her own church in this town. She
happens to have enough Zorta in her body to do exactly that and upgrade
her necromancy skills a few times. Delsy just needs the practice,” Caitlyn
said.
A purple magic oozed out of her spider queen frame. The tendrils
of power twirled around the dead, animating the soldiers’ corpses in her
church.
They started to synchronize their movements, dancing in a ghoulish
manner.
“Gross,” Bell muttered, her eyes unfocused. She held up a hand,
collecting her thoughts before politely asking, “What was the deal?”
“You know, us gods have treaties just as mortal empires do. Us
saving her champion, giving her a home, and letting her build a church in a
growing city were easy for me to extort. I received a nice boon, and you
don’t need to kill her champion. If she dies on her own, or from someone
you don’t control, it’s not my problem,” Caitlyn said with a happy tone
even if her connotations were dark.
“No boon to us?” I asked.
Caitlyn let the dancing bodies hit the floor.
She reached the blank portal that currently rested offline and placed
a palm to the frame. The church shimmied until the entirety of the
stonework vibrated. The intensity magnified until my boots quaked. I
spread my legs for balance with concern.
A blast of light blinded me, forcing me to raise my arms to cover
the intense magic. A fraction of a second later, the church dimmed, and
everything changed.
A spreading mirage condensed, and in the new reality, the church
doubled in size. A blaze of light flickered with a sucking noise, concluding
the transformation.
The church’s single door now was a double door. A ramp allowed
easy access in and out. The stairs were gone, and the widened space of the
interior echoed differently.
The portal chamber itself flared orange again, and most of us,
myself included, drew weapons, worrying the Lind Kingdom opened the
portal again. Instead, the coloration went yellow, telling us we needed to
select an exit point. I slid my weapon away. The portal now read 150 at the
top of the frame.
“Relax,” Caitlyn said. “When you upgrade a portal, it resets. This
was a boon to you and me. We gained a free two levels on the portal and a
bigger church. Now, play nice. This goddess has to go hide from Arax and
pretend to be the boring bottom tiered god that I am.”
I held up a hand. “Will he know it was me?”
“The monk was a priest. Charlie crushed his lungs with you trying
to reach him with your sword. Your face is engraved in his vision and
therefore Arax’s vision. The same image that, I would have to assume,
Toneba has recorded from trying to find you,” Caitlyn said then vanished in
a poof.
“Damn,” I said, for multiple reasons. “I wonder if an old healer can
amass an army to try to break down our doors.”
Tarla came over, using a rag to scrub my face intently.
“Six hells, woman, what is that for?” I asked, trying to avoid being
mothered.
“Your face was caked in blood, Damien. You’re a Necro Lord, not a
Blood Lord,” Tarla said, and I raised an eyebrow. “Bell, you had something
to say?”
Bell always became a tad shell-shocked around Caitlyn. She
idolized her god while I casually conversed with her.
“I… Thank you, Damien. We’ve faced life and death a few times.
At first, I thought we were betrayed by this Nettle you seemed to believe in.
His agents sent to reclaim his lost Z and our goods. When a goblin
resurrected me, I knew differently from Tarla. You stayed alive, and by
doing so, saved the day. Thank you,” she said in a heavy tone.
“Shucks, Bell, you’d do the same,” I said. I turned to Delsy.
“What’s your cultivation at?”
The young woman froze, her yellow tigran eyes glazing over until
she replied, “One.”
“Fighting?”
She huffed. “Pathetic.”
I rubbed my temples. “Sit down, try to claim the dead. Outside of
the church. Don’t stop until you reach necromancer three and these eight
undead are your minions.”
Asha and Jark began pulling the dead out of the church.
“Won’t she need Z to get started?” Bell asked.
“I thought I was going to have to hide a lot of things, but Caitlyn
revealed most. Delsy has a lot of Z to work with. A goodbye gift from her
aunt. She’ll run out eventually, but not until she’s ready for level five,” I
said.
Delsy returned and said, “A Nessio is asking me which building I
want to claim for my church.”
“Pick one of the empty warehouses. Then claim it for Tesana. Add
that to your to-do list,” I told the young woman. “The dead are on a timer,
so work that first.”
She left for a second time, and I headed to the map table. I saw the
size of the table, and the map itself, had increased by fifty percent as well.
Good, I thought. We needed more space.
Nessio cleared her throat as she entered the church.
“I see Caitlyn created a new expansion. The planet literally grew to
fit her upgrade,” Nessio said.
“Yes, well, the gods are gods after all,” I replied, adjusting to give
her my full attention. “How has your break been?”
“I came to talk about all the new tools. They seem to be going to
only your people,” Nessio said in a deflated way.
I saw her pain from having to even say anything. Nessio clearly
didn’t want to be complaining, but someone had compelled her to speak
up.
“Ah, yes,” I said, leaving the table.
I stepped out and into the city of Seqa. The dim magic of the
underground sun illuminated like a bright moon. That was the closest we
came to night.
A pack of surly dwarves waited outside Nessio’s estate, likely
awaiting news of a resolution.
I approached the group, eying them with a frown.
“The tools are mine. I didn’t buy them with your gold, or your
battle prowess,” I said, and they went to quibble. I held up a hand. Nessio
did as well, backing me up. “We can do work for ownership or some sort of
deal. Nothing in this world is free unless you steal it, loot it, or get lucky
and find it. All I ask is for a fair exchange.”
“Define work,” Nessio said, speaking up for the dwarves.
Honestly, it was probably good for them to see us negotiate in a
public manner. The fact we hadn’t planned out government out was
beginning to show.
“There’s empty shops and homes that even I’m using for free
without taxation. Which, yeah, if this was tax money well spent, and you
did one in ten chairs for common areas, I would have no issue granting you
a free tool. However, they cost money. I don’t care how that cost is repaid.
Just make sure it’s something fair,” I said with a huff. “Does that make
sense?”
“You’ll spread tools out if their use results in some common
production also. The goods sold will get a ten percent tax until the tools are
repaid?” Nessio offered.
“A temporary tax is fine. At some point, it needs to not be me, or
you, financing a city, but I can easily support more Seqa citizens working
for the common good,” I said proudly, not finding a candidate to pat on the
back, so I stood there awkwardly.
“You still owe me seven Zorta,” a dwarf in the back shouted.
I frowned, turning to Nessio.
She shrugged and said, “I haven’t paid them back their fractions
yet. I’m waiting until the debt is completed.”
“Consider Nessio paid in full and give her time to parse the Zorta
back to you,” I said.
This ended the discussion, and for the most part, resulted in the
dwarf leaving in a decent mood. I would consider that a win.
“Thanks for the compromise and for repaying the debt so quickly.
Next order of business is cleansing the centaurs in the valley,” Nessio said.
“Umm… I need a scryer because we need to know if the minotaur
horde is still in Tarb. I have it from a decent source that an enemy champion
is looking for me. All information points to me being here. If a human army
is coming, and we remove the centaurs…” I said, letting the logical
conclusion hang.
“They won’t defeat an army. Scryers are about as rare as a
necromancer. There’s decent Zorta repopulating that area, and if we hug the
valley and head directly to Zozo Hold, it is only four days or so,” Nessio
said.
“I’m all for trading with allies. I also just cracked open a new portal
map and am fresh from the battlefield. I need a few minutes to organize and
prepare,” I said, but she didn’t let up.
“And the upgrades?” Nessio asked. “I saw the portal was bigger.”
“We can move a hundred and fifty through the portal. If we’re
trying to do things as a group, we need to split costs,” I said, and then I
inhaled a deep breath. “We need to become one. The two groups will
continue to induce strain unless we come together. There are just some
heavy upfront costs we need to figure out.”
“And that is why I was trying to trade the dwarves. Some of my
dwarves are at zero Ostriva points. They can trade with any human city. If
we can generate a few good trades, we can split the cost of the portal and
give you five hundred Zorta. Then we share rotations,” Nessio said.
“Eventually, we can form a government of sorts, but even combined, we’re
less than a thousand and most of those are goblins.”
I pointed to the building that Delsy chanted in, Asha helping her
with her incantations.
“She’ll have a portal soon too,” I said. “I think if we link to the
dwarves, we’ll get an influx of immigrants.”
“Well shit, that changes things,” Nessio said.
“Look, Nessio, your heart is in the right place. There is going to be
some growing pains. Hopefully, when the enemy is at the gates, we defeat
them as one people, not two,” I said and meant it.
She smiled with a nod, heading back into her estate to likely go to
bed. I returned to the church, knowing that was one less problem to worry
about.
Each step felt heavy, and before I entered, the moon shaded sun
darkened. I knew it was magic. The crackling of darkness enveloped my
cavernous home, and I had to stop mid-walk. I waited patiently, feeling a
wash of power spread out, followed by a cry of joy a few minutes later.
Asha stepped out of Tesana's church with a big smile on his face.
“Desly has the basics. The rest is up to her now. She is already level
two,” Asha said, heading into Caitlyn's church before me.
“Good, those were decently leveled humans,” I said.
“Yeah, she tried them all and the seventh one unlocked for her on
the first try,” he said with a shrug. “Probably one of the loyalists.”
Bell, Jark, Yermica, and Tarla stood around the map as we entered.
“What do we have on the map, High Priestess?” I asked.
“Another island chain,” Bell said.
When I viewed the table, I folded my arms, seeing a few big islands
available for adventuring on and said, “Can’t win them all. Alright, we have
gear to sort. We’ve had a long day, and there have been some unique
developments. All these orders are for the morning.
“Bell, I want you to settle in Delsy. As in, find her a room,
appropriate supplies, and whatever else she needs. You may need to have
her wake you because her revivals take precedent. She’ll need help creating
her church too.
“Tarla, you need to go down to the wagons and sort our gear. Jark,
help Kerny get situated, and show him the animal pens. Oh, and I’ll badger
the Clydesdales. He told me he doesn’t know the mythical language that
they’re used to.
“Asha, battle gear. Re-sharpen, repurpose looted supplies, and line
up our soldiers for a morning departure. Either we use the island and hunt
with my new jenix cats, or we go and clear the way to the dwarves. I’m
undecided, but I want the troops ready. Questions?”
We went over a few minor items. Tarla was staying behind Charlie and Bell also. Did we want to rent the portal or rent out space? I
said no for the moment. We debated the merits of earning more Zorta to
trade for gold or clearing a trading route.
All this turned back to the one central question.
“What do we do with the five thousand Z?” Bell asked. “The next
portal upgrade is… shocker, five thousand Z.”
“What does it do?” I asked.
“The interface actually tells me. It goes from one fifty to one
seventy-five,” Bell said.
“Pass,” a few of us muttered at once.
“We can invest it,” Tarla said. “As in getting our trade going.”
“Here is my issue. We can start trading, but I won’t always be able
to go into either Ostrivia or Nordan held cities. Just because I have before
doesn’t mean I always will. Nessio though…” I said, my voice drifting off.
“Ah, you want to add her to your inner council as your trader?”
Tarla asked, dancing her fingers on the map table. I nodded, knowing it was
a smart decision. “With a limit of a hundred and fifty, we can always send a
team to scout and then adjust.”
“We won’t always get these nice islands that are likely great jenix
hunting grounds, and therefore, I will likely have Nessio scouts work the
surface while we strive for our ten thousand Z mark. Sorry, I’m rambling.
Again, more in the morning. At least we’re halfway until we return Asha or
Jark to the living,” I said proudly.
“Jark,” my friends said, creating an echo.
“See you all in the morning. Have a good night and great work in
Lind,” I said, tucking my arm into Tarla’s crooked elbow. She puckered her
lips, and I planted a kiss on them. “Ready to go home and bathe?”
“Finer words have never been spoken,” Tarla said with a joyful
giggle.
CHAPTER 49
Town of Seqa
“I have just the troll for the job,” Yermica said, trying to sound
convincing.
Nessio rested her hand on a gnome's shoulder. The small tinkerer
wore camouflage gear and carried a spyglass. “This is Ukarl. He’ll also be
scouting the surface while you're away.”
“Excellent news, and thank you, Ukarl. I take it you have no
problem working with Tarla to figure out a balance between our groups?” I
asked.
Tarla patted my armor and said, “We’ve already begun the creation
of a charter. Enjoy the week on the jungle island.”
“Thank you, everyone. Be safe. If you need me, and I’m not near
the portal, killing a minion is the best way to reach me. This island is the
size of a small continent, so who knows what we’ll find,” I said, selecting a
shoreline on the largest island.
The portal swirled, generating from the power of the gods. A
pulsing light stabilized, and I sent Mini into the unknown. The lidka
swarmed behind him, followed by the trolls. The dwarves and gnomes - the
ones from the Tela fight - were all living minions who waited patiently with
a few trolls and goblins.
Lumpy and his team of animals went next. I had converted four of
the six cats, giving Delsy the other two.
Tesana’s champion stood at my side, and I nudged the young
hybrid. She had been distracted with one of her skeletons trying to talk to
her.
“You’re up, princess,” I said, pointing to the portal.
“I'm not a princess,” she grumbled, sending her minions in. She
eyed me with displeasure, her yellow eyes squinting. Delsy jogged into the
portal, following her minions before I could comment.
“This oughta be fun,” Asha said with a snicker.
I shook my head with a grin, leaving him and Jark to bring all the
camping supplies and wagons in a half hour. I walked up to the gooey portal
and stepped in.
∞∞∞
Chop, chop, chop.
The rhythmic sound of minions cutting down trees rang loud in the
nearby space.
A thick humidity hung heavy in the jungle, and unlike the jungle
near Stri, this one was mostly green, blue, and earthy browns. I saw a bright
morning sun above the canopy. A few birds dotted against clouds high in
the sky.
The temperature warmed my armored body. The scent of fresh
vegetation being unearthed hung heavy in the jungle air. Our immediate
surrounding was a dense jungle, something that changed by the second.
Stepping away from the portal, I found Delsy helping clear bushes.
After walking across a firm jungle floor, I grabbed a fern of some sort,
yanking the roots out of the rich soil.
“So, I started a church, I have ten minions, and a home,” she said
with a grunt. Her skeleton that clearly had memories helped her free the
bush she pulled on. “Why am I in a jungle?”
“Necromancy four,” I said, slinging the bush into the portal.
Our teams worked rapidly to clear a camp. Even the palm trees
with fruit in the branches had to go. Mini and the lidka heaved a chain that
wrapped a tree at the base, felling it quickly and causing the soil to tremble
slightly.
“Okay, so I get to necromancy four. Then what? I can do that
without coming on a camping excursion,” she said. Delsy and the skeleton
shooting me concerned glares. Well, his body language said as much.
“Former lover?” I asked.
“Talked about feelings, the most I was allowed as a young lady. His
were stronger than mine, but no. He was devoted to the peace,” Delsy said.
“I’m worried.”
“Trust me, your virtue is safe,” I said with a chuckle. I proceeded to
move slightly further from the portal, bending down to scrape off soil from
around a small bush’s roots. I shook the bush, seeing some insects falling.
“Really, really glad the bugs don’t count.”
“Is that how you managed to survive? By keeping your thoughts so
simple?” Delsy asked with a smidge of sass.
I stopped after tossing in the bush.
“What worries you?” I asked sharply, not liking her attitude.
“You are supposed to instruct me. So far, you told me to revive the
dead and your minion taught me how to do that,” Delsy said, throwing a
hand in the air. “Then, we end up going camping when we could be slaying
centaurs and getting to sleep in a bed every night.”
“Look, being a necromancer isn’t rocket science.” Her face
contorted in confusion, and her whiskers flicked in annoyance. The word
either translated wrong or the meaning sucked, and it didn’t make sense.
“You pick up the dead and they fight for you. If you’re feeling bad, you
resurrect them. Which, sorry for your boyfriend, but he has to stay a
skeleton until more of the dwarves and goblins have recovered their
revives.”
“So, you have nothing to teach me?” she asked, calming.
“Alright, here's a few tips. Connect to all your minions, as in, heal
them as one, or try to revive them as one. The process is like absorbing Z in
a clump. Next, when we slay something higher level than you, don’t expect
to be able to claim the orb. Instead, concentrate and attempt. That’s a long
and hard way to get cultivation gains, but they do happen. When you’re not
actively fighting, you should be cultivating from the land,” I said.
“There was never any Z in the lands around Lind,” Delsy said.
I nodded. “You’re not in Ling anymore. I get the adjustment will be
tough. I’m not some all-knowing, all powerful, necromancer. We will help
you settle in and hopefully find a home in Seqa. If not, maybe Zozo will
take you.”
“Yeah, that is the other part of my disappointment. I feel we should
be blazing a trail for our trading partners,” she said, returning to work.
“Here’s the deal. Yes, I want to do that. I’d like to have it
thoroughly scouted first. Spoiler, this jungle is giving our city far richer soil
than we would get from Seqa Valley. We will be able to fish, acquire new
minions, and harvest additional trade goods,” I said.
“So, when do you expect to cleanse the valley?” Delsy asked,
helping me unearth another bush’s roots.
Asha and Jark arrived with the wagon and camping supplies, the
mares grunting from the strain of the laden cart beds.
Asha heard her words and said, “Lord Damien, or Boss, is being
cautious. Here, in this jungle, if trouble overwhelms us, we hop back into
the portal and then play defense. If we open the main gates up top of Seqa,
there is no stopping a massive army.”
I huffed and said, “Centaurs are incredibly fast. You rarely defeat
the whole group or herd. When they retreat, they’ll tell the others what they
saw. That could be them running into a minotaur force, the great herd, or
even being captured by Toneba. As of right now, the great herd will be
spreading the word that we hid in a dwarven mine. If that’s me hearing that,
and I know it's an infested region, I may just assume we died to the terrors
of the underground.”
Jark scoffed and said, “No sense in getting upset about about it.
We’re here for six days, and there is a whole lot of prime jungle to send
back to Seqa. If we pilfer the island of the jungle, we could get close to ten
thousand Z!”
“A lot of this won’t survive transplanting,” Delsy said, not sharing
his excitement.
Asha shook his head. “I’m an elva, and you missy, are ill informed.
We have vegetation mages. A boon of having two hundred plus goblins and
a few hundred dwarves. Once you nurse them to adapt, most will recover
fine.
“Also, Selma has more mages than us, and clearly wants more and
more of the soil. I think she is expanding down, away from the dwarves, but
who knows.”
“What’s the end goal?” Delsy asked.
I walked over to the mares, scratching each of their necks. The girls
were despondent, lacking much of the character I’d grown used to from our
mounts.
“It depends on the day. Tarla is pregnant, Yermica too. We have a
nice home, and we can improve it. Each of these trips brings risk, but far
more reward,” I said. “I guess what I’m saying is, I’d rather not rush some
winner-take-all conflict. The end goal keeps adjusting which is why the
short term is easier to focus on.”
“No ascending?” Delsy asked, her confusion evident.
I paused. “Nowhere near ready. Even if you died, were unable to be
revived, and I netted all your Z, it wouldn’t fix all these fine folks,” I said,
gesturing to the dwarves and gnomes who had been revived. “Hey Tarno.”
I waved at the dwarf who dragged supplies out of the wagon to
establish our camp.
I continued, “I used Tarno to fight in a cave system. If I leave
without returning him to the living via a god’s fee, he’ll die forever, and I’d
feel bad.”
“To do that someone else has to die,” Delsy said, and I groaned.
“Yup,” I said puckering the ‘P’. “They certainly do. No debate
about morality. You’re a necromancer. You deal in the dead. The best you
can be is semi-good. You’ll accept it or sit in your church. Now… Ah, hello
there my little friend,” Lumpy arrived, crashing through underbrush while
carrying a dead…something. “What is that?”
“Shit, brownies,” Asha said with a grumble. “They are prolific
breeders and a big threat to those of us with flesh.”
I twisted my face in confusion. “They’re green…and is that a dart
gun?”
I bent down, studying the being that Lumpy carried in his jaws. I
saw it was two feet tall, had four arms, and a wooden mask over its face.
The other skin was soft, a few shades of green that matched the
underbrush.
With care, I plucked the mask off, seeing pus filled boils coating an
angry face.
“Indeed, it is, Boss. They poke a boil, load a dart, and then fire the
poisoned projectile into foes. The masks help the toxins ferment. One
second,” Asha said, closing his eyes to focus on the dead brownie. “Four
Zorta. These are part of a tribe which means brownies are going to be
everywhere on the coasts.”
“Extrapolate please,” I said.
“Islands tend to have unique ecosystems geared toward sustaining
off the oceans. Brownies are capable of magic and are moderate builders.
Mind you, this is all knowledge from a book. However, they can build rafts
and can live at sea for weeks.
“They occupy an island’s edges until they run out of room and the
next generation sails out for a new island. For reasons unknown, they never
leave the sound of water,” Asha informed us.
I stared down at the little critter and sighed happily. “That is
terrific. A bunch of small beings with good Z rewards is about the best
news we could get.”
“Yes, but… that means there is likely something capable of eating
them in the interior of the island,” Jark said, playing the sour advocate.
“Exactly what scouts are for. How does the book recommend
killing the brownies?” I asked.
“Oh, it said, and I’m phrasing here: avoid at all costs. They have
fantastic smelling and can use their skin like a shifting lizard. The
adventurer who wrote the book had his hound die to them, so he may have
been biased. My best guess? I would send in the heavy infantry. Skeletons
are resistant to poison. Acid, not so much, but it should be a clean win.”
“And the bodies?” I asked.
“Burn them. I mean, you could sell them. But Selma may buy them
for the poison, and that would mean dead dwarves,” Asha said, and I didn’t
fault his logic.
“Burn them it is,” I said. I snapped my fingers, having an epiphany.
“Delsy, you get to become your boyfriend.”
“Okay, I’m interested, and at the same time, he’s not my
boyfriend,” Delsy clarified defensively.
“Come,” I ordered, heading to the wagon. I sat on the driver’s
bench where the feet went and patted to the upper spot. “Lay down. I get to
teach you something.”
The top set of ears on her head twitched, spinning to give me their
full attention. The orange and black were too colorful for this jungle. Her
yellow eyes and long whiskers clashed with her otherwise very human
face.
After she laid down, she asked, “What next?”
“I want you to focus on a minion. You can whisper to a minion
from anywhere. You can also control them from a great distance. Close
your eyes, chant your incantation, and then project your power outside your
body. You will only be able to go toward an inhabitable minion,” I said.
When she nodded, I saw a smile. I had finally impressed her with
something.
I closed my eyes, chanting, “Death is power, and I demand
obedience. Death is power, and I demand obedience. Death is power, and I
demand obedience.”
Her words echoed behind mine as the two of us concentrated.
I ejected out of my body. I scanned the minions without prior
thought as to who I would use. Not wanting to risk one of my big skeletons,
I selected a human from the ambush fight and dove into his body.
His body shuddered from my occupation. The bones calmed,
allowing me to return to the wagon until I stood by the confused boyfriend.
He grew agitated until I received a tap on my shoulder. Delsy
occupied a different skeleton. I could tell by her sassy body posturing. That
and her jaw moved without any sounds coming out.
I walked to Lumpy, hoisting the dead brownie. The jenix nodded,
trotting into the jungle. This skeleton had a belt with a sword and a shield
over its chest. All my skeleton minions carried gear defensively until it was
needed.
Getting ready for a fight, I placed the shield in my left hand and the
sword in my right. The sound of clapping hands caused me to pause.
Delsy’s skeleton had a bow and quiver. She fumbled the weapon,
illustrating she had no clue how to fire a bow. I trotted over to the wagon,
grabbed a spear, then stuck it in her hand.
She nodded in understanding, ditching the ranged weapon that
would likely be useless against a tiny creature.
Lumpy continued to lead the way into the thickening jungle.
The crash of a tree behind us told me my minions were hard at
work.
Lumpy picked up the pace until I was forced to sprint in his wake.
The skeletal cat somehow knew my limits, never getting too far ahead.
Ten minutes passed, and even though I knew this was a large
island, experiencing it left me startled. The portal we had selected was
supposed to be near the ocean, and yet we kept running without finding
water.
Eventually, I heard crashing waves that told me the beach was
nearby.
As the sound intensified, I could differentiate the waves hitting
rocks, not sand.
Lumpy slowed, and Delsy almost ran into me. I stuck a skeletal
finger to my lips. We crouched and then crawled between thick bushes,
pressing our frames close to the insect-infested jungle floor.
The other jenix cats crouched at the edge of a tree line, watching
patiently.
Outside the jungle, a small clearing revealed a village that held a
few dozen brownies. Their crude structures consisted of mostly fallen
sticks, bound by twine into walls or roofs. A fish roasted over a small fire,
the sizzling meat wafting a rich smell that kept distracting the workers.
At the back end of the village, I saw two brownies fishing over the
cliff.
The young clung to mothers, and I didn’t see any adolescents. The
village was healthy, but they clearly picked a point to stop expanding.
Based on the lack of defenses or scouts, I had to wonder if brownie tribes
warred with one another.
I found the little village interesting yet troubling in that it had
remained unscarred from the harsh world. In the back of my mind, I
rationalized that there had to be predation of these little guys.
I scanned for tracks leading into and out of the village. I studied to
see if any larger creature visited or ruled these tiny creatures. My search
came up empty, and the mystery thickened. Maybe they were just lucky on
the large island.
A four Z brownie was high and likely meant it had lived and
leveled for some time. The fire roasting the fish also meant they likely had
magic, changing the dynamic of the fight.
If we played this patiently, we could pick them off when they left
the village, only attacking if we had to. The problem with that strategy was
that I didn’t see them needing to leave often.
The idea of flooding the village and using ice magic raced through
my head. The brownies were so short, it’d probably trap if not encase most
of them.
The issue with using any magic meant a stinky human neared, and
right now, the village was oblivious to our current observation.
I glanced at Lumpy, nodding my head. A straight up attack should
be enough. I was three times their size with a bunch of spry jenix cats as
backup.
The feline eyed me like I was crazy. I guess we would find out.
I lunged out of the tree line, sword at the ready, and shield held
high. Brownies instantly reached for dart guns on their hips and a few
swirled hands as they channeled spells.
I ignored the defenders working their dart gun, speeding across the
clearing for the magic users.
The little suckers already shot darts at my skeletal frame.
I drew all the attention, quickly closing the gap on a casting
brownie whose four arms grew an electrical spell.
My sword sliced down, and the brownie pirouetted like a ballerina.
So damn fast, and shit, this is not good.
I scoffed at the excellent dodge, punting the little shit for being so
audacious. He screamed, soaring over the edge.
A fireball smacked into my bones, causing minimal damage, but
forcing me to stagger. I raised my shield against an ice bolt.
Crack!
The powerful spell surged through my arm, knocking me back. A
coating of ice caused my left arm to stiffen with an increased burden.
I had been so certain this would be a win earlier. The jenix stayed
hidden, and finally I understood the plan.
The brownies charged up powerful spells, wanting to end me in a
winner take all scenario.
Like hell was I going down without a fight.
I ducked into a roll and swiped out at ankle level. The blade
crashed through small homes and sliced through unarmored brownies.
I cheered silently at my slight victory.
A green spell hit my right rib cage, splashing all over my skeleton.
A loud sizzling sound with occasional pops startled me until a
tormenting agony washed through my frame. I craned my neck back,
screaming to the gods in agony. Apparently, when bones melted, I
experienced a pain I’d never want to have happen again.
A dozen spells erupted from brownies.
For a fraction of a second, I witnessed my body explode from the
combinations of magic erupting.
Boom!
My skull went about a hundred feet into the air before I succumbed
to the blackness.
CHAPTER 50
Kalo Island
“Back already?” Asha asked with a playful tease. “I heard a loud
boom and then you returned a second later. Should make for a fun story.”
Minon Lee Harin has died. Penalty one hundred mana. Your
minion is beyond recovery. Find the location of his death to recover
3.411 Zorta.
“Right! Best death ever. I exploded, and my head went flying. I’m
fairly certain Lumpy used one Lee Harin as bait,” I said. “Oh, acid, savage
stuff, and I’m glad I died quickly. Give me a moment.”
I closed my eyes, sitting up. Finding comfort, I concentrated on my
aura, pulling into my center. Reaching out, I expanded my control. My
exploratory essence raced for that cliff ledge.
When I sensed the village, I smiled. Orbs continued to populate,
telling me that Lumpy, Delsy, and the other cats were doing work. I
couldn’t see the fight. Only the orbs were revealed to me in this state.
The dead minion’s orb glowed green while the others had their
normal myriad of colors.
Touching the green immediately netted me the dead minions’ Zorta,
the power sucking across the landscape until it entered my being.
The other orbs enticed me until I tinkered with them, prodding their
defenses.
I deduced quickly that yes, I could claim or consume these dead.
The option certainly was there for me. The issue was the ability to do so. If
I had to guess, the long distance weakened my cultivation skill, leaving the
orbs capable of rejecting my attempts.
With a relieved sigh, I opened my eyes.
The twenty minutes since I had left had changed the area
drastically. The skeleton minions continued to clear a widening circle. A
rock flew through the portal with a note tied around it.
I hopped off the wagon, seeing Delsy peacefully resting while she
controlled her minion.
“Apparently, brownies are vicious little, magic-casting bastards,” I
grumbled, accepting the rock Jark fetched. “Cheers. Did I miss anything?”
“Nope, just this rock. We found some baby birds in a nest, collected
the Z instead of sending them through,” Jark said proudly.
I raised an eyebrow, and he shrugged. The cycle never ended, and
this world didn’t spare the innocents. I would have probably let them go but
didn’t scold him.
A string bound the note. I plucked a loosening end, freeing the
paper of its carrier.
Nee arrived at the church after you left, demanding to send a squad
of goblins out on the scouting mission. We need to figure out if she has
council powers, or if we need to replace her. She controls the goblins, and
while she swears she’s loyal, she only wants to answer to you.
Which Nessio does not like. She wants a council and wants Nee to
respect that this was her home first. Nee counters with - they’re living in
expansion land that Nessio’s people forfeited and your army conquered.
Ergo the impasse.
Tarla and I could handle that issue, finding a fix with diplomacy. I
didn’t have a good reason to tell Nee no, and let Nee send out her own
scouting party. Well, a few minutes ago, we found out why she was so
adamant.
We’re still counting goblins, but over three hundred have already
arrived through our secret, now not so secret, tunnel. Just like that, you
became more powerful than Nessio and she stormed off to her estate when
Tarla agreed with me to let them in.
Just because Nee is becoming more sassy and confident doesn't
mean she is bad or wrong. The big thing is, as of an hour ago, Nessio would
have won a vote for leader, which we were planning on doing. Now…
I’ll keep you updated and don’t bother coming home yet, I believe
we can find something to placate Nessio. The work of moving all this jungle
vegetation is in full effect, and the Selma traders are buying plants directly
with gold already.
Your High Priestess Bell
My face twisted in contemplation while I mulled over the
development.
“Everything okay, Boss?” Asha asked.
I nodded. “Nessio just lost her edge. It wasn’t laid out clearly, but I
think her and Tarla were working toward a charter and a vote. Nee refused
to recognize Nessio as a leader, and a goblin horde was waiting outside our
mine to join us. I do find that goblin happiness scent thing extremely
fascinating.”
“And how do you intend to handle this political upheaval?” Asha
asked.
“I have to trust the others to sort the issue. It is kinda petty
nonsense. I’ve never been big on politics myself,” I said.
I headed over to the wagon, dragging out my tent. Asha went about
collecting rocks from the jungle to build the fire pit.
Jark hustled from collecting bushes to help me erect the new luxury
tent.
The entire time I worked, I mulled over a good answer, not finding
one where I could please both Nee and Nessio. Mini and the lidka
continued to toil, expanding our landing zone into the dense jungle.
Up to that point, it had just been Delsy and my minions working
hard on Kalo Island. Soon, we would open the portal up to dig teams,
adding to the chaos of our expanding camp. I wanted a fortified base first,
to ensure we at least had a fallback point.
I managed to get the final peg up on the tent, completing the
command structure.
With a proud smile, I surveyed the area. A trunk rested in the
corner near a simple desk. A basic bed had an end table, and the rest of the
space became littered with sprinklings of leaves to prevent mudding.
I went to exit the tent, and like a switch flipped, my vision went
black. My legs gave out and my confused scream never escaped. It was as if
I had landed on a stack of pillows.
Caitlyn arrived over me in her human form, closing the tarp’s
entrance and trapping Jark and I inside.
My muscles failed me, and Jark stood there with hands up, furled
brows, and a sour face showing his displeasure.
“What is the meaning of this?” Jark demanded.
“Payment time,” Caitlyn said in a sultry tone. She traced a finger
around Jark’s shoulders, walking around him in a circle. “I needed just a
smidge more to send my new champion to Ostriva Prime. The only thing
that held me back is complete, and now I have enough. Karo for Jark. The
trade is complete, and your former Master is suffering because of it.”
I tried to ask why, or squirm, or even breathe, but my muscles
remained locked.
“I highly suggest you leave this island, Jark Starski. I can put you
anywhere on Nordan, part of your revival gift. Choose wisely,” Caitlyn
said.
“Can I say goodbye to my sister?” he asked, and the Temptress
shook her head. She pointed to me and he nodded. “Tell Tarla I love her,
and will never forget that you saved me when you could have claimed my
Z. I… Make it sound better and say a bunch of sappy stuff. Take me to
Litroo, please.”
Bell smiled and snapped her finger. Jark vanished, gone on a god’s
whim.
My ability to breath returned, and I sucked in air greedily. I rolled
on the ground in pain, my body recovering from the odd situation.
“That fucking sucked,” I said, resorting to a rare swear.
“You mean the fact he didn’t thank you? The fact he has two, yes
two, troll girlfriends who are pregnant? Or that he said some bullshit and
instantly left?” Caitlyn asked, plopping down beside me.
Ugh. I should have picked Asha. Three upset women, and he didn’t
deserve his good fortune.
I grumbled and mumbled in displeasure. When I glanced up,
Caitlyn sat cross legged, eying me with a mischievous grin. She wore a
lovely dress with flower imprints, her breasts propped up and on full
display.
“What now?” I asked. She smiled, twirling her hair, exactly how
she had done in California. When she batted her lashes playfully, I realized
what she wanted. “Thank you for honoring your end of the bargain.”
“Ah, better. You’ve just sealed Tarla to your side for life if you
choose to. She’ll never betray you like her brother,” Caitlyn said and then
huffed. “Or Bell would have. Bell is loyal to me, but if you dated… It
would have never worked.”
“Not sure why that matters,” I said, propping myself up on my
elbows. Her single raised brow and hard gaze answered for me. “That door
is closed now?” Caitlyn smiled warmly. She seemed so different without
her spider torso. “Good for her and Kerny.”
“Glad you’re supportive of our people. She figured you’d get over
Tarla and finally accepted that wouldn’t happen. Now, yes, she has a new
love interest,” Caitlyn said with a happy sigh.
“I’m surprised you care.”
“Ah, that’s fair. The - I’m a god, why would I care about the
tribulations of mere mortals? But, you’re not mortal. You’re immortal and
destined to die via conflict. At least that is how it is designed. I’ve spent
years not caring, and now I do. It’s part of my transformation, I guess,”
Caitlyn said with a flick of her wrist.
I watched her smooth her dress, just noticing how thin and see
through it was.
“Do you just hang out in California?” I asked.
“Florida. I live in a big beach house and putter around in white sand
on most days,” she said, her gaze fogging as she drifted away from the tent
in the jungle. “Right. Where was I?”
“You sent my girlfriend’s brother to fucking Litroo,” I scoffed.
“You picked him,” she countered happily, and I hung my head. She
had a point, but I never officially proclaimed him, and yeah, I would have
picked Jark. “I have an offer.”
“What’s your ranking?” I asked, diverting the conversation.
“5107,” she all but squealed out happily. “No chance I lose my
immortality now.”
“Uh…”
“Forget I said that. You’re a smart man. Deduce on your own. Your
new offer?” she asked, and I shrugged. “It is contingent on you leaving
alone. Just like Jark did, and I make Asha my new champion. No Tarla, you
go home, get your parents, and retire.”
“So, little faith in me?” I asked, a hint of venom in my voice. The
sheer thought of abandoning a pregnant woman with my child roiled me.
“Hard pass.”
“I figured as much, but don’t hate me for making the offer. You
may learn to regret this decline,” she said nonchalantly.
“Doubtful. Keep your shadowy hints of my impending doom to
yourself. If I die. I die,” I said, unable to help a part of my curiosity. “Why
Asha and why not take him to Ostriva Prime?”
“He is too vital to you. He is also an assassin by trade. He would
make a fantastic champion and until recently would never willingly enter
my church. Before you ask, rules. I can convince an off-planet person
anywhere. On Nordan, or Ostriva, I toned to select them from those who
have visited my church,” Caitlyn told me.
“You don’t get a church unless you convince others to come,” I
said, and she nodded. “Is that how Tesana found Delsy?”
“Um… no. Tesana blessed a baby as a champion, giving a local a
rare magic type in exchange for the long maturation process. Delsy only has
one magic type, as does Karo. Toneba died and was returned, so technically
he can get two. And you better believe Arax will do that. The original
champions are limited to one but more powerful in their unlocks and raw
mana,” she explained.
Butterflies filled my stomach, and I finally asked the question I’d
feared to hear the answer to. “What happened to my body on Earth?”
“You vanished. Simple as that. You missed a single shift, and
someone noticed. Your co-workers loved you. Then the police traced us
back to the motel, and we both vanished. The theory is you killed me and
then went to Mexico. Irony, right?” she asked with a snorting laugh.
“And my parents? How are they doing?” I asked.
“You ever wonder what it would be like to be a goldfish?” Caitlyn
asked.
“Ah, they’re brainless zombies in a pit. They’re not suffering?” I
asked.
“They only suffer when a necromancer brings them to feed, and
they’ll never remember if you do save them. They’re content in the pits.
You have one last question,” she offered.
“Can I build a second temple for you?” I asked.
“Second temple? Yes. With a second portal dedicated to me? No.
You’re in a region. Arax is a great example for this. Karn Kingdom is the
Opari Region, but all the gods call it Karn Region. Arax is allowed a single
portal per region. I should have gone over this.
“As covered before, the churches have limits and rules. So no, Arax
can’t build a thousand churches with portals and then move an army to find
you. He must march and then hunt. I’m afraid that is all I can tell you. Keep
up the good work, and if you need me, visit the church,” Caitlyn said,
snapping her fingers and disappearing.
The flap to the tent opened, revealing a concerned Asha and a
curious Delsy.
“I need to bring Tarla here. She needs to know Caitlyn has returned
her brother to Litroo, as a free man,” I said.
Asha’s brows raised in shock, and I merely nodded. I saw Lumpy
and the other dragging the brownie bodies into a pile.
“I came to tell you your death was epic,” Delsy said with a smirk.
“I ran into a ward trying to get into the tent, and now it makes sense. Um…
becoming a skeleton and fighting with the jenix was amazing. The brownies
used all their magic on you. When the battle was clearly going in our favor
the rest jumped over the cliff to risk the waters.”
“Excellent news. You still owe me for the cost of the bandits. Going
forward, we will figure out some system to split loot, part of our advancing
as one people. I…” I paused mid-sentence, retreating to the trunk I had set
in the tent.
I scribbled a note on the parchment for Tarla to join me, telling her
that she’d be going home soon. We needed to talk, and I needed to be there
for her.
CHAPTER 51
Kalo Island
“What now, Boss?” Asha asked.
We had just watched Tarla vanish into the portal. My lovely lady
had left to focus on Seqa, her home. I may have misjudged her. I figured
she’d be a fragile and broken woman. Jark was her twin, but… I was
wrong.
We had shared a nice lunch, discussed politics, and then she had
gone home. I could tell she hurt, but it wasn’t tortuous to her. Maybe she
had expected this. Maybe she was happy for him and ready to be her own
person. Either way, I was there for her, and she knew that.
Asha’s elbow nudged me from my thoughts.
“Um… not sure,” I admitted.
“She seemed nice,” Delsy mentioned, sorting the tools into a rack.
“I saw how you two looked at each other. My fears you would drag me out
to the wilds appear to be unwarranted. I’ve… Thank you. I’m going to
adventure as my skeleton.”
“Right, let us know if you need anything,” I said, seeing her hop
onto the wagon bench. I knew better than to prod her about her past and set
a good example going forward.
The dead brownies burned on a side pit, their deaths adding nearly
fifty Zorta to the trip’s collection. The entire time I had chatted with Caitlyn
and then Tarla, my minions had continued to process the jungle.
The clearing stretched enough that the large wooden caltrops were
pushed from the church to Kalo. Their creation had been the priority since I
left for Lind. Defenses mattered, and finally, we had some.
I returned my bowl to my bag by the large tent and worked on
setting up the perimeter. After twenty minutes of setting up the spiked
wooden walls, I tossed in the painted green rock.
A dozen goblins, five trolls, and forty dwarves arrived. The counter
on our side had a big 1 on it. I knew the other side would be displaying a
110. That meant we had room to add more help or room to find worthy live
animals to trade or domesticate.
“Nee,” I said excitedly, seeing the proud goblin wearing full armor,
her belly swollen with child again. “What brings you here?”
“The Boss is wise and good. He is also my Boss. I’m here to work
and to avoid those annoying Clydesdales,” Nee said.
“I heard they love you,” I said with a snicker.
She shook her head. “They’re so damn needy. Goblins do this,
goblins do that. Argh… I needed to get away from Seqa and some work
seemed fitting.”
“You sure Nessio hasn’t upset you?” I countered, and she smirked.
“We reached a deal. She will be a Duchess of Seqa and I will
respect her as such. In exchange, she will be one of your official advisors
and manage in your absence,” Nee said.
I smiled, knowing Tarla had likely worked the deal. Nessio became
the number two of the town, meaning that when I was gone - which was
almost always - she was the boss.
“Final count on new arrivals and explain to me what happened?” I
asked.
“I told ya our scent would carry,” Nee said in a confident tone.
“The vents above the town cover a big area.”
I listened, walking over to the tool rack to get a shovel. The
dwarves had arrived with the dirt carts, heading to the areas just inside the
fence lines to dig. As the minions cleared more jungle, the digging area
would push out, not in.
I headed to a team setting up, and became another body working
the soft and rich, soil free of the island.
Nee kept pace and said, “Four hundred and seventy-one. Most were
starving and wouldn’t have made it through the winter. They came from,
well, everywhere. Some even as far as human lands in the south. Aye, I told
them prissy ladies I could get more scouting done. I have news you’ll want
to hear, but I saved it for you first.”
I drove the shovel head down, scooping up a nice chunk of soil.
When worms moved around, I became distracted, glancing back to where
the fishing poles rested.
“Nee, grab a bucket, collect the worms, and then by all that is holy
to Caitlyn, tell me of this news,” I belted out in a jovial tone. “Asha, you
wanna go fishing?”
“Tomorrow, sure. We need to build a defensible shoreline capable
of keeping brownies out,” Asha replied from near the fire pit. One of the
jenix cats returned with a colorful bird. “And so it begins.”
“The foxes should be done with their scouting soon. Come help me
shovel,” I ordered, and he left his whittling to grab a shovel.
I hadn’t told him about my offer from Caitlyn, and I didn’t feel like
I should. The downside, if I did, could be resentment and anger. In reality,
the offer was never an offer. Caitlyn knew before she asked what the answer
would be.
Jumping on the shovel’s head, I sunk it into the stiffening soil. I
shifted, not scooping, choosing to edge out a big chunk from the growing
pit. I hoisted the clump of dirt, setting it on the cart.
Nee returned with four goblins who hopped onto the growing dirt
pile.
“The worms can be bred, help breakdown waste, and most
importantly - farmed and then sold,” Nee said, digging into the dirt. The
goblins' efforts caused some of our hard work to tumble back down. “Sorry,
there will be a second team doing this in Seqa.”
“I think a few bits falling are fine, especially if it earns extra gold,”
I said, unsouring the puckered dwarven faces. “Please, the news.”
“I haven’t forgotten, Boss. Goblins are flocking to your leadership.
The south is in upheaval. Even as far south as Litroo is having issues. Let
me introduce Mari. She is a new citizen,” Nee said, slapping a mucky
covered hand on another goblin’s shoulder.
This goblin didn’t have the jungle stripes or the dark green I had
grown accustomed to. She had a tan coloration with bones showing, and she
may have been eating a worm when Nee called her out.
“Ugh, my life and delays. Grab a bowl from the common tent and
eat slowly. Only when your hunger is partially sated are you to return,” I
said, knowing that she’d overeat.
“After, if that pleases the Boss,” Mari said, and I nodded. “I come
from the southern part of Ikara Valley. When the great herd failed to return
in a timely manner, bands of goblins stopped being fed or traded for their
gains.
“I was a young adult goblin when my mother kicked me out of the
tribe due to a lack of food. I ventured away and up, finding an area humans
and centaurs avoided. It didn’t take long for a minotaur to capture me.
“I was hauled into a vast human city, the structures in ruins and the
people mostly gone. Human dead were roasted as food, feeding the massive
army. I was tasked with trying to find hiding humans. I eventually did, and
they bribed me with bread to ignore them.
“Our deal lasted for a week, and the minotaur army pushed south
for a place called Litroo. I didn’t want to go with the army, and instead I
snuck away like many others. I never saw the great battle, but on the second
night, the skies erupted with a magic barrage so bright I couldn’t sleep.
“Additional goblins retreated, finding me with a full belly. They,
um… hm… asked how I got fed, and I lied. I said the gods gave me food,
and I lied, saying they told me to flee the fighting. So, I traveled north.
Learning that the magical explosion in the night saw the minotaurs win but
not in a way for them to continue their push.
“We ran ahead of the retreating minotaur army and ate the spoiling
food they left behind from their march into human lands. I played it off as
god offerings, eating first and growing the biggest. After arriving in a
valley, a light scent caught my nose, and then the rest of the trip was easy.
Except we became so hungry. So, so hungry.”
“Excellent, thank you for sharing, and please go eat until you pass
out,” I said with a chuckle.
Mari raced off the dirt pile, running for the common tent. She’d
leave a mess, but that was fine by me.
“Whatcha thinking?” I asked Asha.
I shoveled another load onto the cart. A second later, the dwarves
kicked the goblins off the dirt, hauling the cart for the portal. I leaned
against the shovel, eager to hear his thoughts.
“They combined armies, sacked Tarb, and then met something
strong enough to force them to go home. Sounds like Arax has his churches
warning of the direness of the north. Maybe they sally forth, maybe they
don’t. Either way, if you have assassins after you, the route is clear now. If
that goblin lass can make it then so can anyone,” he said.
Nee shrugged, not bothering to argue the merits.
“If I’m Arax, I’m relocating assets to the Karn realm, bribing the
minotaurs for land passage, and then asking for aid from the neighbors. I
forget the Empress name,” I said, trying to recall.
“Elva rarely venture far enough to memorize the local politics that
change so frequently,” he said, and I sighed.
Lumpy arrived by the portal, carrying a mole of some type. A few
seconds later, one of the skeleton foxes carried a lizard.
“Our food problems have grown. We’re really going to need to shift
our farming to catching only local animals and using the excess slots on
portals for farming creatures,” I said, thinking about all the new mouths we
had to feed.
Delsy popped up and said, “I found some sort of hard-skinned
lizard that was huge. Big teeth, stubby legs, dark scales, and a long wide
snout. They ate my skeleton. One bite, gone. All I did was steal a few
eggs.”
Her astonished tone and words didn’t match.
“A gator killed you for stealing her young? Makes sense to me.
How big?” I asked.
“Um… bigger than the wagon. Not too far from the brownies. My
notifier is saying I can claim the Z I owe you,” she told me.
“Meet me in the common tent, and I’ll teach you how to do so. And
it’s time we started to draw the map of the island. We need to notate
everything we find,” I said.
She left the wagon seat, not loving my answer. “We’re not going to
charge in there and kill the gator thingy?”
A jenix cat pranced over, spitting out a dead hawk.
“No. Will we kill one, likely. A big dead animal is massive bait for
scavengers. Patience, patience is key and something even I miss at times,” I
said, leading the way into the common tent. “Now, let’s go over how to
claim from a distance. This might take some work. If you revive a dead
animal just have it come here and dismiss it.”
And so, I spent the next four hours going over cultivation
techniques I had learned. I practiced different chants with her, tried different
abilities, and explained everything I knew.
By the time we finished, she started working on the map, and Nee
had a delicious set of kabobs cooking over the fire. Poor Mari snored under
the main wagon, her gut bloated to a maximum.
The fire crackled, exuding its heat while the fading sun and the
gentle sea breeze allowed for a cooler evening. The minions never slowed,
continuing to widen our circle of deforestation. The pile of dead animals
certainly grew the biggest I’d ever seen.
I proceeded to grab a snack, blowing on the still simmering meat.
The stick cooled while I inspected the jungle. If we kept this pace, there’d
be an underground jungle in Seqa.
I had to wonder if the major cities did this sort of thing. Tarb didn’t
lack trees when I was there, so would they use their portals to harvest? Or
was it too noisy and therefore risky to their adventuring teams? We
happened to have a whole lot of new expansions to fill, and trading partners
wanted more which put my mind at ease.
My other thought was… would this devastation be repaired by the
gods? Or would we stumble upon something similar in the future? I knew
the local wildlife would suffer and the land would become scarred.
“Death is life, Zorta is power,” I whispered.
“It’s going to be a problem,” Asha said, arriving from the woods.
“The ‘going fishing’ or the gators?” I asked.
“There’s a lake teeming with fish further inland. If you want to fish,
do so where the threats are known. The beaches are infested with brownies
and matogators. At least that is what the book calls them,” Asha replied,
waving the book. “The good news is that both populations, if farmed
correctly, will reap good rewards for minimal efforts.”
“You got a plan?” I asked.
He told me his plan in great detail.
From inside the tent, we heard Delsy say, “I hate that plan.”
“Great, then we will work on perfecting it tonight and give it a go
in the morning,” I said with a smile.
I decided to let the others work, heading into the tent to find a book
on mythical creatures to study. This one was written by a healer and
covered his adventures in a desert. I shuddered at the thoughts of fighting a
thirty-foot tall scorpion.
CHAPTER 52
Kalo Island
ROAR!
“Here she comes!” I said with excitement.
Delsy bolted through the underbrush, weaving between the trees.
Her skeleton pushed its frame at a breakneck pace, and she jumped a bush
losing an egg. A gator the size of two wagons crashed through the jungle
hot on her heels.
I watched her slide under the caltrop, slowing a smidge. I stared at
the gator and then the wooden defense. While she figured she was safe on
the other side, I wasn’t so confident. The gator crashed directly into our
trap.
Crack!
The wooden spikes broke, dealing damage, but not slowing the
matogator in the slightest.
I grew worried.
The beast charged a few hundred feet away, smashing through our
second trap with ease but slowing this time. Delsy sprinted, driving momma
gator further inland. I frowned, not sure if I wanted to risk my army.
The decision to sacrifice Delsy or to charge altered when the
matogator slowed further before stopping. The gator’s chest heaved, clearly
winded, and at the end of its sprinting range.
“Unleash volley,” I commanded.
Forty wooden spears arched up before speeding down toward the
beast.
The matogator raised its head, turning its neck to notice. An
attempt at a sprint resulted in a waddling forward.
Her flight slightly worked. About half the projectiles sunk into the
forest floor. A quarter slid off the thick scaly hide while at least ten
punctured the outer hide.
The matogator revealed that she could shriek.
For a long minute, it cried out as additional spears zoomed from the
jungle toward the target.
To me, the complaint meant the wounding was significant. For a
fleeting moment, I cheered at its pain.
Then... the jungle erupted.
Not from the shoreline. Nope.
That would make too much sense.
From the interior.
Each step shook the platform I hid in. Each breaking tree cracked
loud enough to ring my ears. The bright early-morning sun was blotted out
for a fraction of a second when trees flew over our heads, racing to land in
the distant ocean.
Whatever came from behind us was huge. I quaked, truly
frightened when the large head of a cyclops revealed itself, semi-jogging
toward the injured cries.
The cyclops towered over the tall tree, the angle only revealing a
snarling face and a double chin.
“Who dares wake me?” the cyclops roared.
I blanched, knowing I very well might lose my entire army trying
to get to safety.
“Oh shit,” I muttered.
“What do we do?” Asha, the battle expert, turned to me for
guidance.
“The… shit… What?” I failed myself, disbelief not registering.
“There’s no signs of a cyclops on this damn island…”
Delsy, using her skeleton, rushed to meet the cyclops head on.
She raised her sword like a heroic knight. A foot the size of a house
stomped her into dust. Her sword left a mark, though, causing the cyclops
to hobble.
“Attack the hamstrings. When it falls, go for the eye!” I
commanded, finding my strategy. I placed a hand on Asha’s shoulder. “I’m
going to the portal. We have fifty of us, and that cyclops is fat and out of
shape. Bring him down then go for the kill.”
Asha hopped off the platform, tucking into a roll to absorb the drop.
I scoffed at his deft maneuver, watching him speed away.
Delsy returned to her body, visibly angry with a snarl.
“We have to run now,” I commanded, yanking her to her feet. Our
little tree fort was meant to be a fighting station to observe killing
matogators. In our fight against a cyclops, it left us at perfect kicking
height.
I leaped off the platform, pulling her off the perch and into a
tumble.
The hybrid woman recovered quickly, outpacing me.
I never said we were running for the portal, but she assumed
correctly, blazing the path away from the fighting. A glance over my
shoulder showed a confused and upset cyclops.
“Undeads! Leaves my island and returns to your… Ouch! Stops
that this instance,” the cyclops shouted with a stomp.
We adjusted our run, reacting to the tremors. Based on the lack of a
notification, the fat cyclops’ slow movements were dodged. Hell, he
sounded winded just from walking over to us.
“I had to use mana to recover. I’m not sure if I can keep affording
dead minions,” she shouted. “I -”
Boom! A second stomp rocked the jungle.
She collapsed, her minions likely dying. When I hoisted her over
my shoulder, she vomited over my back, leaving a trail behind us.
Her minions taking the brunt of the dying proved vital to me getting
near the portal. I dashed, weaved, and ran with every ounce of power I
could muster.
Eventually, the fight caught up to me, and I collapsed, dropping
Delsy.
Your minions Lidka 3 and Lidka 5 have died beyond repair.
You have lost 100 mana. You have lost 100 mana. -45/155 Mana. Return
to the location of their demise to claim the 31.339 Zorta. Pay .0144
Zorta to recover your Mana. (YES) - (NO)
I selected no, hoping to control my minions from mana exhaustion.
Delsy recovered, picking me up off the forest floor.
“Argg… stop its. The pains! The pains!” the voice boomed. “Stand
stills, so I can squish yous!”
I closed my eyes while she jostled me in an awkward carry.
It cost zero mana to use a minion, and in theory I could control
them while out of mana.
I chanted my spell, forcing myself to concentrate. “Death is power,
and I demand obedience. Death is power, and I demand obedience. Death is
power, and I demand obedience.”
I failed. For the first time, I failed.
A growl escaped my clenched teeth, and I paid the Zorta fee.
“Drop me,” I commanded.
Delsy let me flop down. “Living minions, pick me up and set me
near the portal,” I whispered.
I relaxed, not letting the situation overwhelm me. I found my
center, calming to the fact that only two of my minions had died up to that
point.
“Death is power, and I demand obedience. Death is power, and I
demand obedience. Death is power, and I demand obedience,” I chanted.
This time, I ejected out of my body, soaring for the fight.
“I’ll crushes yous! Leaves my legs alones!” The cyclops bellowed.
I lifted over the trees, heading for my fighting minions. What I saw
surprised me.
The cyclops hobbled away in retreat. An occasional swipe of a club
would try to swat my troops. His lethargic actions slowed the massive
being.
All down the calves of the cyclops were littered with gashes. The
jenix cats clung to the muscles, raking huge rents in the flesh as they
climbed upward. Hell, one of them wedged into the flesh, digging for
tendons.
The damage was not only brutal, it was clearly taking a toll as the
cyclops limped, knees bending to compensate. His hefty frame made the
task of staying upright even tougher.
A trail of minions running in and slashing his legs gave me a
myriad of targets.
I dove into a human, not wanting to risk Mini. His efforts at
taunting the cyclops were clearly having an impact.
A shuddering transition caused the skeletal frame to tumble,
completing my control.
Boom!
A club pounded the jungle only a dozen feet away. I spread my legs
to absorb the jarring impact.
The cyclops, having enough, turned with a ferocious roar.
“Dies! You all must dies!” seething rage belted out with a powerful
shout.
I sprinted forward, seeing the club lift out of the jungle. I charged
recklessly, eager to get into the fight.
Mini taunted the cyclops, predicting the giant's slow movements.
A realization hit me. This cyclops was bigger than the others I had
seen in Ikara Valley. This behemoth was easily over a hundred-feet tall and
at least a head taller.
The most shocking fact, which I obviously noticed earlier, was that
the cyclops was fat. Not kinda fat, not sorta, but exceedingly obese. I had to
wonder how much of our success was attributed to this being’s habitual
overeating.
My foot splashed into a pool of cyclops blood. The towering
behemoth rose to staggering proportions. Even in a throw away body, I
questioned my sanity.
A kick lashed out. The movements lacked a fluidity of a predator.
Instead, they revealed desperation.
Through the trees, I saw Lidka sawing the flesh of an Achilles heel.
The jenix continued to shred the calf, and my troops darted in, paying close
attention to the cyclops’ slow movements.
Mini hurled a stick, forcing the attention of the cyclops to divert.
“I’ll adds your bones to my piles!”
The club crashed into the spot Mini lunged out of. The cyclops’
attack whooshed air, sped by gravity, and yet, it was still too slow to catch
the skeleton minotaur.
Mini recovered with a swagger that he would regret. A second later,
a foot lashed out, sending my best minion soaring over the jungle canopy.
Well, that wasn’t good.
I expected to get a notification about his death, but instead I heard a
blood curdling scream from the cyclops.
“ARRGGG!”
With the cyclops using all his weight on one leg, the damage to his
calf became too much and his ability to stand failed him. The being didn’t
teeter. It collapsed suddenly.
A shadow overhead loomed, closing quickly.
Crack!
A bone snapped, altering his fall. While I may have escaped death,
I saw startled skeletons raise hands to brace for being smushed.
Boom!
The ground shook so hard even my real body in the distance
jostled. Notifications of deaths hit me hard, and I stomached the losses.
At least I attempted to push on. My 745 negative mana drained on
me.
I tried to stay connected to my minion and faltered.
With little choice, I paid the fee. My mana recharge inflated in cost,
draining a full Zorta and a half, becoming the most expensive refresh I had
ever used.
Returning to my senses, I sat up in the skeleton’s body, not even
realizing I had fallen. Jolting off the ground, I headed for the battle.
The cyclops roiled in pain, rocking side to side. He brushed at my
minions climbing onto his body, but his efforts were feeble.
My minions swarmed his body, trying to stab out his eye.
While they focused on the head, I found an opening.
I rolled under a falling arm, ducking near a horrendously smelly
armpit. I exited above a shoulder and near its neck.
“I surrenders,” the cyclops pleaded. “My eye, my eye, I can’t sees.
Please, spare mes.”
I didn’t know who had blinded the creature, but I used the
distraction. Did a flash of empathy run through me? Sort of. The dying
behemoth had attacked us then asked for mercy only when death neared.
The cyclops thrashed, and I jumped high onto the neck, driving my
blade home.
The skin parted and the sword helped me climb higher with my
skeletal toes digging into the neck full of fat rolls, finding purchase.
I arrived near the jugular, yanking my sword free from a lower
entry point. Asha leaped high, mimicking my maneuver to climb onto the
neck. The nasty rolls let us avoid falling as the cyclops rocked in pain.
Together, we sawed open the windpipe, butchering the behemoth. A
flicker of a shadow revealed a looming hand. A palm came rushing down to
swat us like a mosquito.
To save my friend, I released my blade and shoved Asha off the
neck.
Smack!
Every ounce of my skeletal being complained from immense
pressure until I felt nothing.
I expected another death notification.
Instead, I found myself alive - inside the blood-filled throat of the
cyclops. The palm had pushed me into the opening Asha and I had cut.
I was missing a foot and my left arm. I sat on my ass, feeling all
was lost. The night vision of the minion alluded to a boon. Within reaching
distance rested a sword. Knowing every second counted, I dove onto the
blade, grasping the blood-soaked handle.
My ability to remain upright failed, and the slick windpipe sent me
tumbling. In a desperate attempt to keep from becoming melted in stomach
acid again, I jabbed the blade into a space between throat bones.
After I stabilized, I yanked the blade free. A literal river of blood
gushed into the throat, telling me I had hit a major artery.
My ability to maintain my place in the throat ceased as I floated in
blood.
I was swept away. I lost the sword. I lost which way was up, and I
feebly swam without a foot and an arm.
When I exited the throat, I entered a freefall with a waterfall of
blood.
I splashed into the stomach, finding it filled with matogator skulls.
One of the swords splashed beside me, sinking.
I dove down, the stomach quickly filling. I grabbed the blade right
as the stomach heaved.
My ability to do anything left me. I went along for the ride,
guessing I was being vomited out. The power of the ejection was fierce,
sending me in a twirl.
I lost track of up again, only realizing I had left the cyclops body
when I crashed into a bush. A torrent of blood and bile pushed me deeper
into the forest.
Like the heroic warrior I was when I didn’t risk my own death, I
hobbled back into the fight on one leg. If only I could shout out some witty
movie lines.
Instead, I neared the head to see the ruined eye shut. The chest
ceased to rise. The body continued to pour out blood from the numerous
wounds.
Asha arrived, soaked in the cyclops’ blood as well.
“How many dead?” he asked.
I shrugged, not actually knowing. I pointed to my belly button,
creating an orb and then pointing to the dead cyclops.
“He’s dying. He’ll give one up soon. Why don’t you bring your real
body closer to try to claim this behemoth,” he said. “And Damien, thanks
for the save and good job on earning the killing blow.”
I propped him a thumbs up and laid down the skeleton.
Leaving the body, I raced to my human form. When I reconnected,
I saw a dismayed Delsy.
“Am I claiming the cyclops!?” she asked eagerly.
“Uhh… no. I’m fairly certain I got the kill too. Meaning it would
be ten times harder for you to claim. You might be able to consume or drop
the orb, but that is all,” I said with a guess.
While she had played a role, she certainly hadn’t earned the kill like
me.
She pouted, stomping her feet.
“I have a lot of work to do. You need to either help or find
something else to do. If you choose to help,we need the flesh processed
while I work the orb. There’s tons of fat on that kill that can help the
goblins or be used for farm animals,” I said, not actually having a clue if the
body was worth anything.
“Fine, I’m down to five soldiers. I already reclaimed the two I lost
in this fight,” she said with a huff.
I frowned, walking to the tent. I quickly scribbled a note, asking for
a thousand Z orb. I used a rock on my desk to secure the note then tossed it
into the portal.
“If I revive this cyclops, expect to get matogator minions. I know
I’ll be doing so,” I said.
“We’re limited on the portal,” she said, folding her arms.
I nodded and said, “Yeah, but we disable a bunch. Then kill them
on the last day and toss them in. Then claim them. Of course, this assumes I
can even get the cyclops. But yes, I feel your pain, and I lost more minions
than I’d want to lose normally as well.”
While I waited, I decided to check my stats. My available upgrades
were stacking up to the point I might need to consider improving my core
stats.
For the moment, I leveled up my intelligence and wisdom, leaving
the rest alone. Those at least gave me a decent mana boost and were still
affordable. I still didn’t have the option to upgrade to necromancy five.
Hopefully, after the cyclops that would become an option.
Name: Damien Moonguard
Race: Human
Affiliation: Neutral
Zorta: 77.558
Nordan Score: 415,101
Ostriva Score: 444,620
Location: Kalo Island
Magic Type: Healer
Healer Level: 8
Magic Type 2: Necromancer
Necromancy Level: 4
Necromancer Minions: 47/150
Fighting Level: Decent
Mana: 165/165
Mana Recharge: 6
Strength: 9
Stamina: 8
Dexterity: 7
Constitution: 10
Willpower: 9
Cultivation: 17
Intelligence: 31
Wisdom: 31
Charisma: 28
Tracking: 7
Endurance: 10
Perception: 13
Burst: 8
Reflex: 8
Healing: 7
Melee Combat: 7
Aim: 5
Hunger: 1
Thirst: 1
Aging: 59 years until death.
I snickered that my fighting had gone up. Stabbing an artery meant
I was decent. I had lost five lidka, two jenix cats, and four of the remaining
thirteen humans. That was most of my fighting force.
I closed my eyes, finding my center and reaching out to collect the
dead. The eleven green orbs succumbed to my will, and I harvested 84.991
Zorta.
Next, I swapped my desire, choosing to mend my minions. A black
aura shot out of me, zooming across the forest to find my injured minions. I
grunted in surprise when the tally came back.
Lumpy: Repair missing claw: 2 mana of 165 available.
Mini: Repair body: 111 mana of 165 available.
Harry Leoni: Repair missing arm, repair missing foot: 12 mana
of 165 available.
“Repair body… Interesting option. Damn minotaur took a beating,
but survived somehow,” I said with a chuckle.
I accepted the costs, noting to congratulate Lumpy on surviving
another fight.
“If the cyclops hasn’t died yet, kill him. After that, start dissecting
his valuable parts for the portal,” I commanded.
“So gross,” Delsy complained.
The portal shimmied. Tarla stepped out a second later.
She tossed a stone into the portal when I waved happily.
“Back again, my love. Your face always brightens the day,” I said
with a smile.
“We thought you were kidnapped or something. What’s the Z for?”
she asked. “I sent the typical ‘you’re fine’ reply.”
A pouch flew through the portal, hitting her in the hip. She tossed
me the single Zorta orb, and I stared at the power in wonderment.
“A cyclops,” I said, brimming with happiness.
“Whoa! Okay, you’ll need me to help. I’ll stay, and if I hear the first
peep of danger, I’ll flee. Let me prepare for your mission,” Tarla said,
heading into my tent. She was clearly concerned claiming the cyclops
would be an arduous task.
“Is it going to be that tough?” Delsy asked.
I shrugged, concentrating on the orb she delivered and willing it
into my being. I confirmed that I wanted to consume the thousand Zorta,
forever altering my future on Nordan.
“Tell Bell I want the counter back home to reach 140. I need
workers and wagons five minutes ago. And the dwarves shifting dirt likely
need to help. We can harvest a lot of the cyclops before the ghouls consume
him, assuming I win the claim,” I ordered.
“Can I have Mini guard me?” Tarla asked.
“Mini, protect Lady Tarla as if your life depended on it. You’re to
follow her commands,” I ordered. I smirked, seeing her exit my tent. She
scribbled a note down. “He’s yours for now.”
Asha appeared out of the woods and said, “He’s dead. I think you
should let me scout his home before you enter a meditative state.”
“How do you think he got here?” I asked.
“Well, let’s start with what we know. This area of ocean is rich in
fish. Those fish feed the matogators and the brownies to a larger than
normal size. For a cyclops, my guess is that he would sit on a beach and just
wait. The matogators are so thick, he probably just snatched them out of the
water and broke their spines.
“If he was patient, he could kill a dozen easily. The male was fat,
abnormally so, meaning he had been here for a while. I think, same as with
the troll chief, we got lucky because our opponent slacked in their own
ways.
“As to how he got here, if I had to guess, he was crossing the water
and got stopped or marooned and scored an epic setup. I really want to see
if there are more of them on the island before you over invest your time and
effort,” Asha said, providing sage advice and an insight I could fathom.
“Alright, I will wait here and help the army prepare,” I said,
watching him take off for a run.
“Damien, I have something I need to tell you, in private,” Tarla
said, tossing her note into the portal.
“Uh oh. First name and in private? This can’t be good,” I said with
a playful snicker.
Tarla eyed me flatly while Delsy snickered with her hands up.
“I’ll be helping the dwarves prepare,” Delsy said.
I hesitantly followed my lovely Tarla into our tent. She pointed to
my desk and sealed the entrance. I gulped, expecting to get a scolding for
empowering Nee or for her to reveal some awful truth.
I realized I had super misread the situation when her mage’s robes
were removed and tossed on the bed. I gulped, raising my eyebrows. She
waved me over with a bucket and soap. After the grime was removed, she
patted the bed, encouraging me to join her.
I wasn’t sure if this warranted a special occasion or not. Maybe she
missed me. I certainly missed her. This also might have something to do
with me saying I wouldn’t abandon her no matter the cost.
Either way, I’d never had such passionate lovemaking.
Our bodies entwined over and over until I had to take a break for
water. Standing at my desk, I heard Asha clear his throat.
“I have a report when you’re ready, Boss,” Asha said.
Nee did a pass by, shouting, “Sending the goblins to get to work.”
Her voice faded as she left. I spent considerably more time getting into my
armor than Tarla did to don her robe. She let in Asha who wrinkled his nose
at the smell of sex.
“You’re an adult, get over it,” Tarla said, binding her bed hair into a
ponytail.
“Ah… Sure,” he said carrying the e. “The cyclops sailed here on a
boat. Well, a raft that he turned into a roof and a bed. Just a guess, but I
think he was seeking a new master or a new home. He stumbled upon this
bountiful island and decided to make it a home. There’s so many matogator
bones outside his sheltered alcove we’ll never be able to salvage them all.”
“Wait, salvage them? What good does a bone do for us?” I asked.
“Well, it depends. The teeth would make great tools, makeshift
weapons, and maybe jewelry. The regular bones are good for building. The
value is certainly not worthless, and they’re ripe for collection,” Asha
replied.
“Interesting. How about the golden treasure or piles of armor,” I
asked, shimming into armored pants.
He eyed me as if I were a loon.
“Ah, the bones were the prize?” I asked, answering my own
question.
“His flesh is worth the most, but we only have… most of a day left
to gather from it, assuming you want to risk it and push to the end even if
you can claim him sooner,” Asha said.
“Nope… but I do want to farm matogators and stomp villages of
brownies,” I replied, adding a laugh.
“Excellent idea, Damien. Get what we can, pick him up, and then
wreak havoc on the inhabitants,” Tarla said joyfully. “The big lug should
pay for himself in a day.”
“One can hope, if he becomes a problem, I’ll turn him to dust.
Hopefully, he is more agile as a skeleton,” I said, finishing putting on my
boots. I turned to my lovely red head, her cheeks were still rosy from our
fun. “Help me with the chest plate, please and thank you.”
“I swear, you’d be lost without me,” Tarla said, stretching on her
tippy toes to kiss my nose.
I smirked, half tempted to kick Asha out and toss her onto the bed.
Alas, duty called.
Fully geared and ready for a grueling endeavor, I set out with Asha.
We trotted for the corpse, taking a direct line. A few minutes through the
jungle, we passed a jenix carrying a rat proudly.
I need to do some minion upgrading and tweak my remaining army
soon. One thing at a time.
Even if I did gain the cyclops, he would make life exceeding
difficult except for zones I wanted to war in. I simply had to adjust, picking
obscure areas to start and having the cyclops crawl or hide until we were
ready to fight.
His battle prowess would be nigh unstoppable except for other
giants and a lot of magic. If we had to retreat from a growing reactionary
force, then so be it. I needed an army if we were going to fight an Arax
invasion.
My thoughts tumbled in my mind until I arrived at a gory mess; my
minions and even the dwarves were using tools meant for trees on the
cyclops.
Finding a nearby spot that remained relatively clean, I plopped a
seat.
“Do you mind if I try to raise my cultivation?” Delsy asked.
I shrugged. “I’m not sure if it will help. I don’t mind after I
connect. The day is young, my stomach is full, and I shall be at this for a
while.”
She sat down, waiting for me.
“Death brings life, Zorta fuels champions. Death brings life, Zorta
fuels champions. Death brings life, Zorta fuels champions,” I chanted,
finding my zen.
I reached out of my body, finding the orb. I knew if I chose to drop
this orb it would become small. Right now, you could stick an elephant or
two in it.
“Leaves me alones,” the orb said.
I broke my concentration with a gasp, eyes flaring wide in shock.
“Whoa! The orb talked to me,” I said.
Delsy had no answer but did say, “It instantly rejected me.”
Interesting.
I found my calm, repeating my chant.
When I reached out to the orb, the cyclops allowed the connection.
“Spares me.”
Instead of talking, I focused on my domination spell, the one I had
used when the ram broke my fingers.
Anger flooded my being while I maintained my grip on my core. I
felt the power flowing through me, and with a surge of energy, I released.
A wave of black magic burst forth, coating the area. I felt the spell
crash into the orb, wrapping it with a dominating presence.
“You will obey!” I shouted in a primal rage.
“Spares me,” the cyclops said, his voice becoming a whimper.
We argued for hours until I received a popup.
Consume Zorta
You have selected to Consume 812.88 Zorta. (Consume) (Drop)
I selected, taking a break.
A fire crackled from nearby, warming the area. Hours turned out to
be an understatement. The sun was already setting. Tarla rushed over with
some meat on a stick and a big pitcher of water.
The body of the cyclops had completely changed. I recognized I
wasn’t a doctor, or even pretend to be one. But biology told me that they
removed the organs for some reason. I couldn’t help it my curiosity got the
best of me.
“Why the organs and not the muscle?” I asked.
“Highest protein. Did your mother never tell you to eat your liver?”
Tarla asked.
I shook my head, talking while I ate. “As a matter of fact, she did
not. Gross. I guess it makes sense in a way.”
“Some of that will be used in spells and potions,” Nee said, sitting
by the fire with her feet up.
“Where’s Asha?” I asked.
“He went to track the wounded matogator. He should be back any
minute. We heard a big fight over there, and he expects that the wounded
momma was killed. If so…” Tarla said, not finishing her sentence because I
pulled her robes down for a k