Everyone took time to recover after that battle, but it was Earon who chugged through most of their potion supply - not that anyone was too bothered by it; without him, they likely would've either died or had to retreat anyway.
Greedily eyeing his gruesome sack, Fane made no attempt at hiding his satisfaction. They had already gathered thirteen ears, which was worth more than the group's combined earnings over the last few months, and more than enough to pay for the drunken potions.
“We’ll be debt-free after this. Oh, am I going to love rubbing it in that bastard’s face.”
“Something other than mead or ale will be nice for a change.” Iliana grinned.
“Why would you want to drink something other than mead or ale?” Dordan snorted.
“You should try the plum wine we make in the Rye,” Earon croaked, laying in his bedroll covered in bandages. “Maybe I can show you someday.”
“Are you going to take us back to meet your family?” Iliana teased, twirling a finger through her hair.
“Give the boy a break. He's in enough pain as it is.” Fane shook his head. "Can't believe I owe my life to some kid at the foundling stage."
“I was only kidding.” Iliana meowed. “Our little Earon did a great job today! I mean, I kind of want to tell you I told you so, if I'm being honest..." Iliana said, trailing off.
“You kind of did though, didn’t you?” Fane rolled his eyes.
“I’m happy my suffering could be so helpful.” Earon grimaced, but his perked cheeks and piercing dimples gave away his disguised smile, despite how hard he attempted to keep it down.
“Aww, Earon, you’re adorable!”
"Truly commendable for someone so weak," Dordan agreed.
With Earon still healing, the group took the next week easier, clearing out small groups and individual monsters scattered across the barrens.
However, once Earon was back to his feet, it was decided that the individual fights would be good training opportunities. His body still ached, but Earon knew as well as anybody how important it was for him to get stronger.
And the hard work paid off. He had gained another point in polearms and block.
It occurred to Earon that wealthy nobles might be able to hire guards to sit around and help them train like this, but for anyone of common birth, this was quite the opportunity, one he likely wouldn't have if not for the relatively easy money available to them for collecting bounties.
The only one who didn’t seem to be enjoying the slower pace was Fane, whose imagination had gotten a little carried away after their first haul and had grown a little grumpy at their slower pace of bounty collection.
On the ninth day of the hunt, their march was interrupted by what looked like beams of silver energy flying across the horizon.
“Magic,” Dordan growled.
“Not any old magic,” Fane agreed.
“The moon monk.” Iliana nodded.
“The one that was with that big guy?” Earon tilted his head. "How can you tell it's the moon monk?"
"They've got somewhat of a reputation across the other side of the Clain. Considered one of the more powerful caster classes, though I doubt someone coming all the way to Ome is the most powerful of their kind." Iliana advised. "Still, I doubt he's someone you want to test yourself against."
“Yeah, and Kalgarag doesn’t exactly have the best reputation beyond the gate,” Fane added. “We should change direction, coming across those guys can only spell trouble.”
“Agreed.” Iliana nodded.
Winds began to kick up sand across the ground, swirling into little whirlwinds and floating away. It wasn't of much concern at first, however, soon gusts were stinging their eyes, and a mist of sand twisted through the air on the horizon.
Dotty kicked and bucked, whilst Curly stiffened and sunk her feet into the ground as Earon tried to drag them into the storm, but after several minutes the group was forced to turn toward the direction they had come.
“This is why you only use Clain camels when traveling through the barrens,” Dordan said with a shake of his head. “Far braver than Omian beasts.”
Since they were generally lower level compared to others, they had been happy to avoid the more dangerous areas of the barrens. The further away from the scars and the crossings to Saner you were, the less likely you were to be pestered by monsters. However, these areas would be where the biggest bounties were, and the strongest and most deadly adventuring parties. But now, with the storm blocking their path, the group found themselves heading directly towards where they had avoided.
Sand kicked up against their backs, shifting the coarse blanket that covered the landscape with every gust. And as they walked the remnants of a discarded camp revealed itself around them.
Dordan raised his hand and the party slowed.
“Careful, these are not the remains of a human camp,” Dordan warned, his eyes thinning as he scanned their surroundings. "Hard to tell how old they are with gusts like this blowing everything around."
Iliana nodded. Being a ranger, she had her own tracking abilities, though they were inferior compared to Dordan when in the barrens; had they been in a forest, she would have been leading the group.
"What are they?" Fane asked his hands reflexively at his sides.
Remaining silent, Dordan led the group through the scattered camp, bringing them upon what appeared to be a makeshift altar. Smooth rocks had been stacked in a heap, holding up a timber painted red and black with feathers tard to it.
“Redcap superstition.” Dordan sneered and kicked the post.
Surrounding the timber post, dozens of markings were painted across the pile of rocks. To anyone else, they would've appeared as messy scribbles, but as Earon’s eyes glanced across them, the letters began to make sense. A hazy red outline formed around the symbols and within moments Earon felt them imparting meaning.
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
Unlike skills, abilities were bound to classes, some unique, whilst others might be available to many. For example, reading was a skill, and if you practiced it, you would get better. Arcane Knowledge, on the other hand, was an ability; and the difference presented itself every time Earon used it. He wasn’t learning how words came together, but rather gaining an intrinsic understanding of what was written. And it wasn't as if when Earon stared at the goblin markings, they were being translated into something he understood. Rather, he just knew what message they were trying to convey.
“The legion of Haitariki hunts all. Praise be the next warlord of the Clain Barrens.” Earon spoke, barely comprehending the words until they had left his mouth.
"Earon, why do you speak that curs name?” Dordan spat, his eyes narrowing on Earon.
Earon choked on his words, realizing his error a little too late.
“Calm down,” Iliana said, waving her hand in front of Dordan face. "Those aren't Earon's words."
Dordan's brow raised and Earon nodded.
"The rocks, that's what's written across them, I think."
"It's one of his abilities," Iliana confirmed. "Told me about it back when we went to the library. Basically, he can read magical texts and runes. All that kinda of stuff."
Fane nodded thoughtfully. "That might actually come in handy."
Red flashed in his eyes, but Dordan forced himself to wink and take a breath. He had been only inches away from letting his berserker rage take hold. “Think carefully,” Dordan repeated through labored breaths.
Earon sighed, realizing he had been holding his own breath. “Sorry, I didn’t me-”
“Don’t apologize, Earon. You committed no foul.” Dordan stammered, and his eyes flickered as he steadied his emotions. "It's just that I haven't heard that bastard's name since he destroyed my clan."
“I just, I didn’t mean to trigger anything is all.” Earon scratched at his neck. “Having abilities, you’re not really used to is a funny sensation. I’ll try to think a little more next time.”
“It’s fine, Earon. You have proven your worth to us yet again.” Dordan said with a shake of his head.
Iliana gave Earon a grinning nod. “He’s right. That’s some ability you got. Dordan will be fine, and we’re a lot better off knowing what this stuff says. You never know, something might turn out to be important.”
Earon looked past his companions and back over the text. “I think this was written by a redcap shaman named Judekka the Foul-Blooded. Something about the twelve redcap tribes bowing to Haitariki and Tavika to rule the Clain Barren.”
“I've heard that name before, Tavika is a minotaur feared by many across the barrens. He has always been known as a wanderer, most even know him as Tavika the Vagabond. If he has joined with Haitariki, there is cause for concern.” Dordan muttered as he looked out across the landscape.
“Yeah, that’s another group we best stay clear of,” Fane interjected. “Besides, the cheap bastards are only offering three hundred coppers for minotaur bounties, how is that even fair?” A freaking minotaur for only three times what they pay for a hellhound?"
“If I get the chance, I shall tear Haitariki’s one-eyed head from his repugnant body.” Dordan spat.
“Alrighty, friend. We get it.” Fane said, gesturing for calm. “Luckily, we have no idea where they are.”
“Well,” Earon interrupted. “This seems to be a message instructing all redcaps to a place called the Scarlet Stone.”
“The Scarlet Stone?” Dordan repeated, turning north and facing the direction of the silver blasts.
"Why? Why did you need to continue?" Fane sighed.
“This seems to suggest they are gathering an army there.”
“Hey, big guy, over here.” Fane waved his hands across Dordan’s stony gaze and gestured for him to turn eastward. “We're hunting bounties, remember? The kind that pay well and don't get us killed."
“If Haitariki is there, I must march on the Scarlet Stone. Honor demands it.”
“Where? I don’t see this honor guy, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t demand shit. We go that way, we die. We go this way, maybe we get rich? Not a hard choice.” Fane pleaded, gesturing as he spoke.
Iliana slumped. "I take back what I said. Check with me before speaking next time, okay?"
Nodding with a curt smile, Earon agreed.
***Ding!***
***Notification***
World event starting in 5 hours. Stop the tribes of redcaps and their overlords from forming a new horde.
Location: Scarlet Stone
Rewards based on participation points earned:
1st Prize: Class Orb (One use only; allows users to select any class they desire.)
2nd Prize: Power-up Orb (One use only, provides 10 free levels.)
3rd Prize: Ability Orb (One use only, unlocks one ability of your choice)
******
“What in the plain of eternally suffering shit is this?” Fane whined.
“Seems like the gods really are on Dordan’s side.” Iliana groaned.
“World events are real?” Earon gawked.
“Apparently,” Fane sighed. “Damn you gods.” He shook his fist at the sky. “You know I love money. How do you expect me to turn this down?”
Earon turned to Iliana, furrowing his brows.
“Those orbs will be worth a fortune. I’ve only once heard of a class orb going for auction in Saner. The entire city was plastered with posters for it, and nobles and lords traveled across the land to attend. Word has it, it sold for enough money to make yourself a lord. Imagine that, buying a fancy chateau surrounded by green fields and rose gardens!”
It made sense, Earon already knew people would go to extreme lengths to get the right class. And for people with money? Who knows how far some nobles might be willing to go and how much money they would be willing to spend for the chance to pick any class they wanted? Especially since being a caster wasn't just about being able to cast magical spells, mana bonds artificially extended one's life. With some casters living several hundred years.
******
Torches flickered against a soft breeze, barely illuminating the damp, dark chamber. Chains raddled along the ground and wheezing echoed throughout. Whilst striated patterns lined the limestone walls and a drip sounded in the distance.
“Are the cardinals ready for my assent?” Gargled a deep and foreboding voice.
“All but one. But I assure you, my lord, they will come around.”
“You had best be right, Pesen. I’ve not invested so much in those fools above land to have my plans come undone. Release the Scourglings if you need to. What's important is that things go to plan, understand?"
“Of course, my lord. Do not worry, we have spent far too much time planning for this to fail. I promise you, your reign shall be long and prosperous. All those that hunger in the dark and bath under the light shall know you as their lord.”
“I do not worry, and I need not promises from the likes of you, Pesen. I am the Worm King and the Worm does not worry. The Worm is inevitable.”
“Yes, of course, my lord.” Pesen dipped so low his twisted face touched the ground.
Clearing their throat, another, softer voice joined, “And what of those fools, Haitariki and Tavika? They get too distracted with their own ambition, going as far as to fancy themselves lords.”
“It is of no concern; they are nothing but useful fools. They have done their part, and have managed to trigger the world event. Their purpose has been served. Isn’t that right, Pesen?”
“Of course, my lord. Now both sides will be driven to conflict. The rewards are too great. None will resist such allure. Our cardinals shall be soaked in the hatred of their sacrifices and the runes shall be awoken for the first time in millennia."
“You see, my beloved Erini, everything moves to plan. The surface races have grown lazy, and confident. Like a disease, it weakens them, festering both mind and body. What joy it shall bring to my face to see them squirm between my grasp. Those ancient fools that believed us defeated. Sat in their temples and palaces, bathing in the warmth of light while we remain shackled down here. Oh yes, I shall enjoy their suffering."
A deathly white finger ran across the huge figure’s leathery, greenish-yellow skin. “I do love it when you tease me with such talk of your deviance, my dear."
"Deviance?" Thundered the coarse voice. "I take back what I am owed, that is all. It is them who bring this upon themselves. They and their self-righteousness."
"Forgive me, my love. I only thirst for the day you enforce your tyranny upon those above us."
The Worm snarled and squeezed. "You are forgiven, my dear Erini." He exhaled deeply. "We shall take their divine power for ourselves and ascend as demigods, as we have always deserved. No longer shall we be denied!"
"What of my bonds? Even with our passage clear, I cannot join you whilst these cursed leashes bind me to this place."
“Once the ritual has been completed, no stretch of land will be out of reach from my army. The towers that bind you here shall fall, I will see to it.”
“Yes, they shall all fall.” Pesen snickered.
“Oh, how I look forward to ruling the surface with you once more, my love.” Thin, white fingers ran down the leathery, boil-ridden chest of the Worm. "Don't you just love the touch of my hands?" She whispered into his gnarled and folded ears.
"I do."
Pesen rose to his feet and bowed to leave as Erini's hands continued to travel lower.
"No, you shall watch, Pesen."
The weedy servant gulped and nodded, struggling to hide his discomfort.
“None will stand in our way.” The Worm bellowed; his wart-covered fingers wrapping around the stone edges of his crude throne and tightening until cracks spread across it.