“It’s got to be the mushrooms,” Niko sighed, eyeing their overstuffed packs full of the glorious fungus, “I don’t think that it’s tracking us any other way.”
Skye, still riding atop Niko’s back, gave the packs an annoyed glare, “Yeah, maybe. It might have our scent, too, at this point.”
That was a thought that Niko wasn’t keen on entertaining. Whatever the creature that pursued them was, it had very definitely started thrashing the Thimurge that they’d left behind. Niko didn’t know the results of the fight, but even as they’d fled, the forest echoed with the sounds of their battle. The Thimurge hadn’t been small by any means, dwarfing them in size, but it seemed like their pursuer might have been even larger.
From there, they’d simply fled in a straight line, Niko doing his best to ensure that they weren’t going to run into another ambush, while Skye thought of what their best option was. Both of them didn’t want to admit it, but soon they were likely going to have to abandon their mushroom haul. It simply wasn’t worth having a motivated tier four hunting after them to the ends of the forest.
If it wasn’t for how valuable the haul was, they’d have done so already. Niko wasn’t all that willing to give up anything that could make him more powerful.
Amidst his thoughts, he noticed something amiss ahead. Niko slowed his pace, switching the power of his Wyldstrider pattern more into stealth. Skye slipped lower against his back, noticing the change in his approach.
“What do you see?” She asked, voice echoing in his head.
“Not sure yet, there’s something odd happening with the essence ahead.” Niko informed her, seeing a distortion in the essence of the forest ahead of them. It felt like the essence was actively moving away from the location, but differently than what they’d seen with the vermillion crystals underground. That had been a clean division, while this was unsteady and fluctuating. He feared that perhaps not all of the vermillion concoction had been inactive, but Niko wasn’t positive that this was what they’d stumbled upon.
“I’m going closer, keep an ear out,” The Phorus stated before prowling forwards, taloned feet slowing even further as he hopped silently from one root to another. He kept to the nooks and shadows, unwilling to put themselves in any additional risk.
When he neared the boundary of the distortion, he had to admit that nothing had set off alarm bells like their foray underground. No visible issues presented themselves as of yet, but he could feel the essence in the air decline sharply.
Niko pushed forwards through the essence, visible only to his Aether Sight, and nearly reflexively stepped back into the richer essence zone.
“Whoa, that’s a harsh transition.” Skye grimaced atop his back, “It’s still tier two, at least.”
Niko nodded at that, glad that they weren’t exactly going to be strained here. Anything over tier two would feel the lack of essence acutely. ‘Now, the question is, what’s causing this?’ Niko pondered to himself, lingering at the edge of the field, contemplating what they should do.
Then Skye groaned audibly in his ear, “I think our stalker is coming again.”
“Already!? Well, pluck me!” Niko’s feathers stood up a little at that. Apparently a tier four Thimurge was only worth a few minutes of delay.
He turned and immediately went deeper into the lower essence zone, beak grit tightly as he scanned the area for anything that might give them more information. Skye was silent as he did so, likely thinking the same thing as him. If nothing else, maybe the lower tier zone would inconvenience their pursuer. At worst, they’d simply leave the mushrooms somewhere and try to hide someplace in the area. Niko doubted the creature following them couldn’t stay in such a place for a while, but maybe it would be discouraged just enough to leave them well enough alone.
Niko was about to duck under and into another root tunnel when Skye patted him on the neck insistently. He frowned, about to ask what she was doing, before he noticed what she already had.
A banner with a set of beast and monster skulls hanging from ropes hung from a pole hammered directly into the bark of a titanwood. There were two symbols, one that he knew all too well, and another that he didn’t recognize at all.
“Looks like we might run into some Bant cultists, too,” Niko glared at the flag, along with the odd symbol set beneath it. It took a moment, but he realized that he was looking at a Dawr Goblin word, as far as their less-than-sophisticated written language went.
The two of them prowled forwards carefully, but Niko didn’t delay more than necessary. As much as he valued information, caution would have to take a back seat here.
Just past the root tunnel, Niko began to see the essence signatures of several creatures. There were hundreds of them, a huge quantity of which were tier two. Scattered tier three Dawr Goblins sat in their midst, and as Niko poked his head out from around the roots, he got a much better idea of what they were looking at.
Settled between the boughs and trunks of dozens of titanwoods, a large encampment had been established. The mouth of a tunnel led underground at the center of the camp, lit by torchlight and under what Niko realized was a heavy guard. Fabric tents, the likes of which were markedly higher quality than Niko had expected of Dawr Goblins, were set up all around the hole, too far for Niko to get a good look at with his Aether Sight. Sigils all around the core of the camp drank deeply of the essence in the air, though, and Niko could see that it seemed to be getting fed into the tunnel, with only a meager tithe afforded to the camp’s continued operation.
Log-constructed watchtowers of clumsy make sprang up predominantly in the core of the camp, overlooking everything that seemed to be worth defending. Luckily for them, the exterior of the camp was far less uniform and patrolled; the Dawr Goblins seemingly didn’t expect or care if there was an intrusion this far away from the center of their encampment.
Even so, there were many banners, and everytime Niko changed his position via the roots and sneaking, he found yet another banner demarcating what he realized was likely separate tribes and their established areas. Niko and Skye were at times only a stone’s throw from the edge of a gathering of the goblins, but it was clear they didn’t expect any trouble. Even if they had, the vast majority of the creatures here were only tier two goblins. The handful of hobs they had were slightly deeper within, and any champions or shamans even more so.
Niko slipped away, addressing Skye mentally with a nudge to get her thoughts on what they’d seen.
“This could be a good thing.” Skye’s voice sounded almost amused.
Confused, Niko asked, “How would this be a good thing? I doubt this many Dawr get together for no reason.”
“That is a problem, but we can use it to our advantage right now.” Skye slipped off of Niko’s back, along with one of their packs. “We’re gonna need to work fast. Did you see that soup cauldron at that last area?”
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The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Bugeater scowled at his fellow goblin, testing the weight of the club in his hands. The other goblin was busy sleeping in his spot, which he had left unattended for only a few minutes to relieve himself. It wasn’t a great spot, not really, but it was his still. Bugeater was contemplating if it was worth the ruckus to beat the other goblin when he smelled something delicious on the wind.
Was the food actually worth something today? For the last week, all of the best food had been delivered into the core of the camp, along with all of the entertainment. And the materials… and the essence. Just as he was about to grumble about it, he stopped himself, desperate to change his thoughts as the brand on his neck tightened.
Yes, the food! Bugeater spun on his heel, trotting right off towards the direction of the smell and ignoring the brand as it relaxed. He decided that things were easier to just take as they came, rather than think about pesky, complicated things like equal treatment and free thought!
…The brand tightened marginally at that, and Bugeater firmly pushed those thoughts away, cursing his sarcastic habits.
They truly vanished as he got nearer and nearer to the communal soup cauldron. The chef, if he could be called such, was currently snoring loudly in a chair across from the big metal pot. Bugeater eyed the sod with derision, but decided to adhere to rule three in the camp; don’t mess with the ones who feed you. Right behind rule number two, which was; don’t become the food that gets fed to you.
Nodding sagely, Bugeater promptly ignored the passed out goblin, noting the delicious smelling sack of mushrooms besides the soup kettle, and what smelled like the same coming from the soup cauldron. It was divine, such that Bugeater was sure that if the bigger tribes knew they had this meal, they’d rapidly find themselves robbed of it.
Which, of course, meant that Bugeater immediately spooned the still cooking soup into a wood-carved bowl and began stuffing his face with rabid abandon. The stock of the soup was terrible, thrice cooked, too soft and some too chunky, and yet… it was still the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted! The mushrooms released the most potent, concentrated essence into the meal that he’d ever tasted. He felt his body suffuse with power, his starved, desert-like flesh soaking in the rain of essence, desperate to relieve its parched palate.
He scooped another bowl, and another still, devouring them one after the other. Bugeater didn’t even realize what was happening when the chef woke up, shouting at him. Instead, the chef frowned, spooning food into a bowl and trying it for himself.
Suddenly, there were more goblins filtering in, but Bugeater couldn’t be bothered. More mushrooms from the sack flew into the cauldron, barely cut, but none of them cared. He filled his gullet more than he’d done for days, and this time, no one had the presence of mind to stop him. They were too busy, pushing and shoving each other, a building fervor amidst the camp.
Bugeater finally pulled himself away, sensing the change in the tempo of his fellow goblins actions. Now was the time for him to slip away to some nondescript corner of the main camp, far away from here. Trouble would follow this many goblins in the form of the hobs, and if they were especially unlucky, the champions and shamans. Worse, there would be hell to pay if they didn’t get their cut.
Rule number two came to mind again, ‘Don’t become the food that gets fed to you.’
Bugeater trotted away, cradling an over bloated stomach and smiling dumbly as he wandered through the less watched paths into the center of the camp. Sure, he’d lost one sleeping spot, but there were even better ones if you knew where to look! So long as he didn’t try to get deep into the camp, the guardians wouldn’t bother with him.
With how much essence he’d just stuffed into himself, well, Bugeater was just that little bit hopeful that he might just be ready to evolve!
Hobgoblin Bugeater had a nice ring to it!
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Niko returned to their stash, heart bleeding from the necessary sacrifice of one of their sacks of mushrooms. At the end of the day, they only had enough of the essence masking potions for two sacks anyways, and so the third had to go. Still, it felt… tragic, for it to go to such wasteful creatures as the Dawr Goblins. It’d been a tricky exercise in his sneaking abilities to get into the camp and drop the mushrooms off, but thanks to his ability to pass unheard, and the ability to literally see through walls, Niko had pulled it off handily. Now, he just had to take the packs and hunker down, leaving Skye to her task.
From the root nook he was located in, Niko had an excellent view of the area he’d effectively marked for death. If he hadn’t seen several signs of the goblins' capacity for wanton violence and cruelty, he might have even felt slightly guilty about what he’d just dropped on their laps. After seeing what they did for fun to one another, though, he decided that Dawr Goblins really were as bad as he’d been led to believe.
Distantly, Niko felt a light thudding, and even in spite of the preparations they’d made, he found himself clenching his muscles with anxiety. While in theory their presence should be masked, there really wasn’t any way to be positive without a real world test. Given the stalker’s ability to sense them had already been proven to be incredibly potent, Niko feared that their potions simply lacked the quality needed to work.
One second, everything was business as usual, the slow bustle of a goblin camp – save for one small corner of it that buzzed around an especially delectable soup – filled the spaces between the titanwoods. In the next, a deafening crash and roar interrupted the relative calm, and Niko got his first real look at what had been pursuing them from the mushroom biome.
It was larger than a school bus, and looked almost cute, like an axolotl covered in mushrooms along its back. A frilled mane flared outwards, framing its large, blocky head in a vibrantly colored purple and green light show that strobed aggressively. Mesmerizing color patterns swirled across mushroom covered flesh, drawing all eyes in the camp to the immense bulk of the heavy, eight-legged lizard. Three tails lashed behind it savagely, each thick and heavy with spikes, one errant sweep annihilating a tent that had survived its initial charge through the edge of the camp.
Predictably, the goblins nearest to the axolotl-like beast fled in abject terror and panic. A few had struck out at the flesh of the monster in their midst, but if they did damage, Niko didn’t see it, nor did the lizard apparently feel it. Its mouth opened, an empty toothless maw, looking, again, almost cute on the lizard up until its gums parted, revealing rows of razor sharp teeth. The sight made Niko cringe, and the few goblins nearby that hadn’t fled, now did so post haste.
Fortunately for them, the mushroom-lizard had paused, eyes searching as large nostrils flared. Niko could see the essence pattern bright with power even from where he was, and knew with certainty that it possessed a potent sensory amplification ability. Whatever else it might do, he didn’t know, but the moment its head snapped in the direction of the communal soup cauldron, Niko felt the shift in its attitude. What had been an aggressive creature suddenly froze, its eyes widening with what appeared to be horror and pain at the wasteful way in which its mushrooms were being used.
Hatefully, it turned its gaze once more to the goblins all around it. Whatever went through its head, Niko didn’t know, but he nearly missed the moment it lunged forwards, skipping past several goblins on the way to its target. It snapped the goblin up in the air, shearing it in half, but instead of eating it, simply spat the other half out onto the root-covered earth beneath them.
That marked the beginning of the blood bath, the lizard first spinning around and slinging spikes from its tails at everything around it. Droves of goblins were injured in that single attack, worsened still as the lizard stomped down on them in passing. It never once bothered to eat one, but instead pursued seemingly random creatures amidst the horde, shattering any resistance that met it.
Niko knew that the ones it was going after were most likely those that had eaten the soup, and the sight filled him with trepidation. ‘Pecking wow, this thing is on a warpath.’
A couple of hobs stepped up, trying to halt its advance closer into the core of the encampment. The lizard charged them, slowed only as the hobs essence patterns and cowls of bloody energy empowered them. They stabbed up into the beast as it approached, long spears of relatively good construction actually managing to pierce through its hide.
The lizard backed up, seemingly shocked that they’d managed to hurt it. Niko saw a glimmer of triumph and hope on the hobgoblin’s faces as they realized they indeed could actually harm it.
That changed as before their eyes, the wounds they’d caused simply closed up, any sign that there had been a single cut on the lizard vanishing within two breaths.
This time, when the lizard charged them, the hobs were even more prepared, gathering up in order to forstall its approach. Instead, the lizard opened its mouth wide, snapping down on one of the hobs, spear and all, and crunching it and its armor in its razor maw. With impunity, it chewed the hob all while being stabbed, only to spit the mangled meat at the rest of the group with enough force to send them sprawling.
As they moved to get up closer, the axolotl flicked its tails over its own head, sending a shower of spikes piercing downwards at them.
None of the hobs moved after that, and Niko felt a cold sweat break out over his body as he watched the lizard saunter unchallenged between watchtowers into the core of the base. One of the goblins who had eaten from the cauldron must have managed to slip away there, at least Niko assumed as much. It would certainly benefit Skye’s plan, but he couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit bad for the creature. He doubted it would get away unscathed, either from the lizard, or from whoever had control of the camp when they realized what the lizard had been after.
‘Not my problem, though,’ Niko shook himself out of his observations and put the packs on his back, ‘Better get in position for Skye. We’re going to need to get out of here fast after she’s done.’