Skye’s fist cracked into the back of the hobgoblin’s head and forced it down, smashing the entire creature into the hard roots of the titanwoods. An instant later, her head snapped up, surveying around her along with her own keen sense of hearing. Thankfully, nothing had changed; sudden loud sounds and impacts were not uncommon in the camp and not enough reason to cause alarm. Beneath her fist, still pressed into the ground, the hobgoblin was still alive. It was a tier three creature, evident in the fact that the crushing blow hadn’t shattered its skull like a watermelon beneath a sledgehammer.
She pressed harder, focusing on the spikes that grew from her wood-covered fists with her will and essence. They pierced through bone, growing into the skull of the hob that barely managed to make a pitiful, muffled squeal into the dirt. Blood energy surged from its body, trying to empower the thing and force Skye off of it. For just a breath, the goblin managed to push upwards, thrashing beneath Skye’s grip, before she pulsed her essence pattern once more and sent spiraling roots tearing through brain matter in the goblin’s skull.
It went slack instantly, and the energy faded away to nothingness before her eyes. She breathed in the essence from her kill, briefly relishing in the increase to her vessel. Within her body, she traced the incoming essence into the core of her being, where it vanished from her direct awareness. Still, she could feel the very sense of herself becoming somehow more defined, powerful, and she allowed herself the small moment to be pleased with her progress through the second tier.
Then she mastered herself and pulled the spikes of wood out of her target, willing the growth to recede and cover her fists more. Reusing the wood would be more efficient than growing new wood, and if there was another hob in her way, she would need to put them down quickly.
Quietly, she dragged the goblin away, shunting it amidst an infrequently used area where some supplies were held. She was surprised when she’d found the many material dumps scattered in the camp; Skye hadn’t known Dawr Goblin to be the type of creature to have any sort of organizational skills. Though, the more she came to see the way the camp was run, the more she doubted that the Dawr themselves were the ones running the show.
Initially, she’d intended on slipping in and finding an up to date map and then absconding with whatever information and goods that might be worth taking away from this place. However, Skye’s intrusion into the camp had gone so well that she’d managed to slip into the edge of the core encampment before long. Any minute now, she was sure that their distraction would begin to wreak havoc, and if the center camp responded, she’d see if there was an opening to see what exactly was going on, get a map, and then be on her way. And if they didn’t respond – a possibility, since she didn’t know if the Dawr would especially care about another tribe’s troubles – then she would simply pull back and aim for one of the external tribes on the way out.
As she was considering her plan again, she heard the not-so-distant roar of their stalker. Skye smiled to herself at that, knowing that whatever had taken such offense with their mushroom pilfering was beyond much of the camp to handle. Perhaps they could drag it down with sheer numbers and eventually wound it enough that it would perish or retreat, but by then Skye and Niko would be long gone. The half elf slipped over into the shadow of one of the tents, the clumsy, misshapen things giving plenty of room for her to obscure her form. She listened closely to her surroundings, confusion pulsing through the camp for a few seconds as the distant carnage began in earnest.
Skye felt the pulse of the forest beneath her feet, and dropped her conscious mind into their midst. She followed their senses, moving to the lantern of power and rage that glowed even to the great forest’s senses. It tore through flickering embers of life around it, and Skye knew then that the plan was currently succeeding. Better than they’d hoped, it seemed, as the lantern light tore deeper and deeper towards the center of the camp. Skye frowned at that, hurriedly patting herself down as she verified that she didn’t have any of the mushrooms on her at all.
Of course she didn’t, but the fact that the thing was making way towards her didn’t inspire confidence that it wasn’t looking for her in specific. Skye felt across to her mental connection with Niko, just in case, but found that he was fine. Relieved that he was apparently fine, Skye felt her concern ebb slightly. If Niko was alright, then it seemed that their obfuscation method worked. They would need to put a great deal of distance between them and this area before they opened the packs again, but the sacrifice of a portion of their horde to deal damage to the Dawr and to scrape off their stalker was a worthy one.
As the lantern of power hit the edge of the central camp, Skye started to move, pulling her attention back to her body. Already the Dawr Goblins around her were moving, chaos breaking out as the lesser goblins fled, whilst hobs did their best to bully them into running towards the intruder, rather than away. Skye moved low to the ground, pulling a rough cowl of burlap that had been abundantly available in the supply caches around her as she did so. On a casual glance, she hoped to be mistaken for a goblin, given that their available clothing options were likewise rough and hardly fit to be called such. Even with that, she didn’t stick to the obvious areas, moving only when an opportunity presented itself. Only once did a goblin see her, and even then the tier two was far more interested in running past her and to safety than he was in inspecting her.
Her advance halted as she slipped beneath a cluster of roots near one of the more well made tents. She could feel the essence aura of higher tier creatures here, similar in every way to the Dawr Shaman that she and the rest of the Wyldwalkers had met in the underground beneath Greenleaf. The tier four was something they’d only barely matched as a group. And, given the feeling of the auras around her now, Skye realized that he’d been little more than a fledgling shaman, rather than one comfortable in their own power.
‘I guess I’m not getting closer than this…’ Skye frowned with frustration, glaring at the well made construction near the hole in the ground with frustration. She was certain that information as to why they were here would be available in one of them, but Skye was equally certain that attempting to get in there was nothing short of suicide. While she was confident in her ability to sneak around tier three goblins elsewhere in the camp, these tier fours were much closer together. Unlike elsewhere, in the camp, there were far fewer places where she could hide, and even her hiding hole here was at best ten meters from the nearest tent.
She chewed her lip in thought as she tried to make a decision. The closest tent’s entrance was on the opposite side of the structure from her, meaning she’d have to slip around to enter it. Alternatively, she could cut through the fabric of the tent, but then her intrusion would certainly be guaranteed to be detected.
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Given the decorated flags on the tent, she knew that this one in particular had to be important. Hopefully it was something of a command-related structure, rather than just an overly posh goblin’s abode.
Just as Skye was shaking her head, preparing to withdraw, she heard a bustle of movement from within the tent. Out of her view, she heard a clamor as a single, snarling, guttural tone rattled out. She didn’t recognize the words at all, but as she saw the goblin it belonged to, Skye subconsciously pressed herself even closer to the ground.
The creature stood at two meters tall, firm, rippling muscle and scarred flesh in the shape of a goblin. Heavy plate armor that glowed with a dull, crimson light adorned much of its body, leaving gaps in places that wouldn’t be lethal if they were hit, but seemed needlessly divorced of even a passing attempt at shielding. Its eyes glowed with a faint golden light, framed in yet more bloody red energy, and its snarling fangs gnashed as he belted out commands to the eight Champions it commanded. Skye couldn’t tell if the thing was tier four or tier five, but she did feel her instincts screaming at her that it was trouble.
A rugged cape of silver fur rolled from its shoulders, the bronze armor and red glow fading into it as it rippled with every step the goblin took. A heavy morning star hung from a leather thong to his side, the other bearing a narrow, spiked shield. From beneath the cloak, Skye caught what looked to be several other weapons, the hilts of short swords, daggers, and other small weapons bracing his body. Something told her that it used them all, given that her moment’s of allowed inspection revealed signs of use on all of his gear. None of it was ornamental, though even if it was, there was an easy, predatory way in which the beast moved that set Skye’s teeth on edge.
Finally, she noticed that it carried Bants sigaldry on its person, in the form of a heavy talisman that was latched to his chest armor, with hanging cloth that seemed to drip with bloody energy.
It shouted out orders still, sending off the first batch of Champions before turning to yet another. Even with the relatively increased chaos around him, the Dawr Warlord – Skye couldn’t think of any better suiting a name – seemed completely in control. It was calm, and unlike the clumsy growls of the other Dawr, Skye realized that it seemed to possess something she nearly could call eloquence, if the Dawr tongue was capable of such a thing. Whatever it was saying, the new set of Champions didn’t run off, instead flanking him as he moved with them towards the hole.
‘There’s got to be a reason why something like that is here…’ Skye thought to herself, eyeing the tent that she now hoped to have been vacated. ‘Great Mother, I hope I’m not making a mistake here…’
Skye darted forwards quickly, not giving herself the chance to let reason and fear spoil her chances for information. More roaring shook the camp, closer still than it had been last time, but Skye ignored it, even with the prickling sensation of powerful essence patterns being used against her skin. She sliced through the fabric of the tent, unwilling to risk being in the open, and guessing that her invasion would be noticed regardless of how she entered.
With her heart hammering in her chest, Skye took in the sight of the interior of the tent all at once. Boards were set up on wooden legs around the walls, with a single massive table between them all. A desk set with what Skye thought was halfway between a throne and altar was directly in front of her, having entered through the back of the tent itself. She swallowed hard at the sight of it all, seeing maps of the area with pinned areas and writing that she couldn’t understand. Skye strode forwards, abandoning any attempt at stealth in favor of grabbing whatever she could.
She hit the desk first, stopping only long enough to assess what sat there. A thick book lay open with the last lines of still drying ink present upon it. The handwriting wasn’t exactly neat, but it was orderly, and utterly unreadable to her. Niko might be able to decipher it, though, and so she snatched it up and shoved it into her pack, hoping that whatever had been written last wasn’t that important. Next, she opened up a compartment on the table itself, freezing as she felt a blast of raw essence hit her in the face.
She felt like she was about to feel her life flash before her eyes at some trap, before realizing she was still whole and unharmed. Swallowing hard, she looked down in wonder at two dozen crystals, each positively glowing with essence. She’d rarely ever seen essence crystals before, given that they were the primary currency that high tiers worked with. They were each tier five crystals, and the sheer value of them made Skye’s eyes bulge in shock. While she’d never considered herself especially concerned over wealth… this was a significant haul.
A part of her wondered at the wisdom of taking what amounted to yet another mushroom patch from something much stronger than her, but the fact that they were Dawr Goblins and ostensibly their enemies anyways swayed her. Skye stuffed the lot of them into her pack, which promptly snuffed their glow.
Now moving even quicker, Skye snapped up a strange slate with something written on it that made her eyes water, a collection of potions that she didn’t recognize in the least, several scrolls, a pair of clearly powerfully enchanted daggers that were kept in well oiled leather, and a sack of money. The gold was, ironically, the least interesting, but Skye certainly wouldn’t say no to it. She stopped as she saw a sphere of crystal, one that she didn’t recognize, but felt like it had dormant power. Instead of touching it with her bare hands, Skye chewed her lip and threw her rough burlap cloak over it and then picked it up.
Nothing happened to her, but she was beginning to feel like she was pressing her luck. She didn’t know how long the battle outside would last, though it did sound like it had hit a crescendo. Whatever the result, she didn’t want to be in the camp when things were resolved.
With that decided, Skye snatched up several maps, before she then stopped in front of a very detailed model of the center of the forest. Riizen lay there, carved in wooden structures, with stout models set distantly all around it, facing inwards to the city. She swallowed hard at the sight, the implications of it not at all lost on her.
‘The Dawr are planning on invading Riizen? But, why? What would they gain?’ Skye’s eyes remained glued to the model of the city. Could they even succeed? Certainly, they had some tier fives in their ranks, but Riizen had several themselves. Then, there was the Patriarch of the city, someone who Skye was fairly certain was tier six. That wasn’t a gap that could be overcome with throwing hordes of low tiers at them. The Massacre Hornets would eventually have been able to become strong enough to overtake that, but the goblins?
As much as Skye wanted to scoff at the thought, she couldn’t help but feel like they wouldn’t be here without a chance at success. That, and the fact that Bant was blessing them with power… Maybe they weren’t all that wrong.
Skye opened her bag, before pulling out a flask that glowed red. This was her last firestorm flask, and while it pained her to leave more intelligence here, it wasn’t like she was going to be able to take it all with her…