I watched the lugian coming toward us from the southwest, stumping along the stone with surefooted, deceptive speed, an elephantine gait that anchored him quite solidly, even as his bright red and yellow armor made him stand out like a prime firing target.
Proud warrior people, indeed.
The lugian Summons paid him no heed as he moved between them, turning to watch his progress and little more. He was heading right for us, obviously having picked out the hole in his defenses, and true to form, a minute after dying, there was a hiss and fwzaaap, and another lugian materialized where the previous one had been standing, almost completely identical to the one that had dissipated seconds before it arrived.
“Color?” Princess Kristie Rantha asked fatalistically, tossing back her dark hair as pale violet eyes fixed on the living controller now only a hundred yards away.
I narrowed my eyes, having to range out with the appropriate Detect at III+Reach for the results, but I could do it, so I did.
“Gray with hints of Brown. Pack mentality and a warrior’s nature, big believer in strength and prowess, deep pride in his race.”
“Oh, aren’t those so much fun to deal with.” Kris cracked her neck as the lugian spotted us, and slowed down immediately, actually coming to a halt about fifty yards away to study us there. He had a massive hammer in hand, damn thing probably weighed close to what I did, and gripped it thoughtfully as he stared at the two of us, Kris standing there with Quaver out and surrounded by the force ripples of Lost Light, me standing there on a Disk of force above the ground, both of us looking back at him and waiting for him to make the first move.
I was actually waiting for Kris to make a formal challenge to him, as establishing dominance in these kinds of dealings were generally best with a warrior species. She seemed to just be waiting for his reaction, however, and was there one.
“GOTROK!” he bellowed at the top of a healthy set of lungs.
Every Lugian in range stomped their feet and pivoted to face him.
His massive hammer extended out to point directly at us. “UNS KAV ROK!”
All their melee weapons disappeared instantly into nowhere. In their place, all of them were now holding small boulders bigger than their heads, cocking their arms back.
Kris spun, Quaver tapped my Disk, and I nearly got whiplash as abruptly we were in motion, just as a score of Summoned lugians hurled out those rocks actually like the Jotuns Aelryinth had fought in-game and met in real life on Terra-Luna.
The rocks came hurtling in at just incredible speed. There had to be an element of geokinesis to their throwing, as the math didn’t work out for their strength at all. They were throwing massive chunks of stone farther and faster than a major league outfielder could throw a baseball, and with rather more accuracy, too.
Unfortunately, trying to hit someone who could run sixty mph while moth-dancing to evade the rocks coming at her was going to be an exercise in futility. The rocks went crashing and cracking down all around us, but none managed to find a target, although a few got within a couple feet of me that I leaned aside from, and they all bounced and clattered very loudly as they hit the mountainside and rolled with crashing impacts along all around us.
By the time the next rocks appeared in their hands and were hauled back to throw, we were already out of range of anything but the most desultory volley of fire and getting further away and out of view very quickly, indeed.
Kris slowed down a bit to cut down on the wind, and I just leaned down to her. “Proud warrior racists?” I muttered into her ear.
“If I was in a more modern world, I would have matched that to ‘Cannons! Take aim, FIRE!’, I think,” she smirked back, clearly not put-off. “There was no friendliness, rivalry, or challenge there. He recognized we were humans, and tried to kill us immediately.”
“Well, isn’t that something special,” I murmured to nobody, sitting down cross-legged as Kris zipped towards the Wagon we’d left nearby. “A lot of them died at the same time as a lot of humans. Survivor hostility and/or racial factions are the likely explanations.”
“That scout did think about coming in to investigate and find out more from us, and just decided against it. Since information is very key, and I’m sure you saw his surprise at recognizing us, that means the indoctrination against us was deep enough to overcome his curiosity and desire to know more, even if just to ascertain our threat level.” Her voice was grim and analytical. “I debated asking you to snipe him, just to conceal the fact we were here, but I held off. It might come back to bite us. Did you get a name?”
“Gro-uk Bouldertoe,” I recalled, glancing at the Assay I’d sent out as he’d drawn closer to us. “By the way, the lugian race seems to have a weakness to lightning damage. Their stony bodies conduct it, and their nervous system has some metallic elements that heat up and burn out when it goes through them. They basically suffer a collapse of their whole nervous system, their brains fry, and they die.”
“I’m guessing they don’t go outside in storms, and really don’t like to mess with electricity,” she grinned. “I’ll remember if I’m serious about dueling them in the future. They weren’t that impressive, as you probably noticed. All about the power and the mass, not the skill, but that’s a Summons. I’m sure the living ones are going to be much more organic about such things.”
Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.
“They look and move like natural Crystal Dragon practitioners,” I had to agree. “Give them the right kind of training, and they could be real tanks. I didn’t see any natural DR like Jotuns have, however. Kind of surprising, given their builds and what looks like an Earthen elemental nature.”
“Yeah, surprised me, too.” She tilted her head in consideration as we came up on the side of the jutting stone where the vaguest of outlines, if you knew where to look, showed the Wagon. “There’s another possibility to the fight. He wasn’t surprised by seeing humans, he was surprised by seeing us THERE... and waiting around for him to order an attack on us.”
I considered that, glancing east. “If the humans fled to the islands to the east, that is a total possibility.” I flicked up the painted map Holo for both of us to look at as she coasted in next to the front seat of the Wagon, and I stepped off onto it smoothly. “The artist does seem to indicate the mountains go right up to the waters around here. So, if humans are coming back ashore to do scouting, it is reasonable to assume the lugians have seen them if they prefer to live in these hills.”
“Seen them, and reacted with hostility,” she conjectured. “Perhaps I should have charged the sucker, Mercied him, and we could have questioned him.”
“Yes, yes, stoic earth-based warrior culture race, I am sure questioning him would have gone fascinatingly well. Maybe with some performance intimidation, like taking down a dozen of those Summons in martial combat before his eyes, just as easily as he was taken down.”
“Was he in a Fellowship or Allegiance?” Kris suddenly blurted out, flinching upright as we began to move out, back north and east, toward the edge of the swamp and the burun. The fighting in the distance seemed to have tapered off, as we couldn’t see anything from our elevation when looking towards the green of the swamp and its trees in the distance.
I blinked, went back to my Assay of him there at the end, and parsed it more accurately this time, feeding in the Assess magic that was more native to everyone...
“Both. His Monarch is Muldaveus, his Patron is Ollar. Ranks translate to King and Captain, respectively.”
“So, an absolute minimum of 256 militant survivors, likely many more with how Levels tend to be skewed to the lower end and heavy with non-fighters,” Kris nodded once, mind spinning in political ways. “That hammer it was wielding, did you get a good look at it?”
I reviewed my impression of it, and frowned. I replayed the Holo for her from my Visual File, noting how it seemed to change color from dark to nearly-transparent, depending on the angle it was viewed from, and how much light was hitting it.
I reviewed the albedo from the light hitting it, staring at it intently, just like Kris. “That...” I separated the hues reflecting on it across a color spectrum. “That’s aluminum, right?” I pointed out the two most prominent marker hues there. “But that... I think that’s the Void hue. Is that... Null Crystal Aluminum?” I tilted my head and looked at it. “There’s absolutely no magical sign about it at all, just like plumbum or nihilor.”
“Can you zoom in on the left hip?” she asked, leaning in slightly.
I should have been looking at our dear scout more closely, but I zoomed in as good as my memory could fill in. We both leaned it to see what she had seen.
“That sparkle isn’t from the hammer,” I murmured, seeing the faint glimmer of light coming from the top of an open leather pouch at his side. “It’s crisscrossing slightly and regularly. I thought it was a reflection from the hammer.”
“That’s a throwing stone in a pouch. I’m gathering it can’t conjure them out of thin air like those Summons did,” she judged. “It’s hauling around some kind of magical throwing rock.”
“Well, I hadn’t seen it so blatantly before, but now it explains why all those minor drudges, banderlings, and monougas were throwing crap at us.” She glanced at me, tilted her head, and thorked herself on the nose for not noticing that. “Really, dimensional storage of weaponry? That’s a completely new broad ability for a Summoned creature!”
“Very convenient, too. Our Mr. Toe turned a bunch of pounding brutes into artillery with one command. Can you imagine the siege usage if they don’t run out of ammo?”
They could grind down any wall with enough time, unlimited ammo, and arms that lasted long enough!
“Rock range seemed to be about sixty yards, so not as good as a true Jotun, but damn impressive nonetheless.” True Jotuns started at about twelve feet tall, and the extra arm length was probably why, if everything else held constant. Larger Jotuns could hurl rocks weighing a hundred pounds or more with surpassing ease, only getting bigger and stronger as the Jotun species got bigger. They might carry their favorites around in a sack, too, as unlimited ammunition was not standard with them.
They liked tossing siege ammo, too, pre-formed as it was. These fellows were good, but not that good...
“Well, that explains how they have been able to stave off enemy Casters. A slew of rocks coming in followed by a massive charge bowling them off their feet would be really hard to face down without a phalanx spear line.” Kris studied the image further, and leaned in again. “I think its armor is studded with that NCA stuff.”
I squinted at it, shaking my head at my own memory of the small bosses scattered over what looked like banded mail. “Anti-magical armor?” I judged slowly. “A good idea if you’re facing magic-happy enemies...” Like myself. Driving my Shards into nihilor or plumbum was useless, and there was every chance it wouldn’t be good here, either, unless I aimed at his exposed face or skin, since they didn’t seem to have gotten the memo on the wonder of full body armor.
Then again, against unaimed Shards variants, and most Isparian magic which went for center of mass, it would be nigh-insurmountable.
“Well, they are clever buggers, then. I imagine they don’t have much use for spellcasting amongst themselves, then, or it might be impossible?” I conjectured.
“No way of knowing. But, yeah, none of the Summons seemed to be Casters. Maybe it’s the magic they are opposed to?... No idea. We’ll find out sooner or later. They knew who and what we are, so there’s more humans around somewhere. We’ll find ‘em.” Cheered up by the thought, she picked up her pace as we got out of there, heading east towards the coming night as the sun set behind us.
I was left to consider my options against an enemy who might be throwing magic-ignoring rocks and wearing magic-ignoring armor. Wouldn’t that just suck?
Well, I had time and a lot of Levels to acquire. I’d figure out something...