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Dragonheart - Dungeon Ritual
Preemptive Strike 1

Preemptive Strike 1

Twig rolled his eyes as the new arrival collapsed on the spot. Apparently the palace had sent a messenger or some kind of errand boy. It was understandable to drop from dizziness, since the travel method was quite something to get used to. What he could not understand was why he got so freaked out that he even lost consciousness. Sure, the place looked a little wild. But still…

Twig just called his three humans over and prepared a cup with potion to make the new guy recover a bit quicker. It did not take long for him to wake up. Immediately he freaked out when he spotted Twig again. “Calm down, calm down. Here drink this.” Twig handed him the cup. “What is this? Why is this red? Is that blood?” Marcella rolled her eyes. “Dumbass it’s a healing potion. Drink it already.” Finally he did as told and calmed down a little. Daz looked concerned. “Are you feeling better? I know teleportation can be a real hassle.”

“Yeah. Thank you. I’m sorry. Why are there so many corpses lying around? And what is this?”, he pointed towards Twig. “How rude. I, am Twig. I am the… assistant of Teiming, second son of the kingdom of Antalia.” Twig flinched for a moment, when he nearly said “master” again. Immediately the attitude of the freshly arrived ranger changed. “Oh my, I'm so sorry. I apologize.” Hastily the young man got up and firmy bowed before Twig. “And you three… might be?”

Twig stepped forward again, interrupting his disciples from speaking. “They are my team. You will address them with respect or I will put you down myself.” He hurriedly nodded again. “Of course. How rude of me, I have not introduced myself in all this confusion. My name is Jorak. Jorak Ibistein. I am here to relay a message to prince Teiming.” Twig was happy to see that his team had fallen in line behind him. “Well that is a little problem. His highness is currently residing in a city to the north. Diplomatic talks.”

Jorak frowned. “Will he be back soon?” Twig shook his head and turned around, walking out of the pavillion. The ranger followed. “We would have to travel there ourselves. More importantly… What is the information you will provide him with?” Sadly the scout denied Twig this information. “I cannot tell you that. The message is for his highness himself.” Twig stopped and crossed his arms. “Do you at least possess a written exemplar? In the event of your death while traveling there someone or something, should keep the information safe. After all a message for royal blood should never be at risk like that.”

Twig had made this point up on the top of his head, maybe it would work. He desperately needed to know what the message entailed, since it’s nature could very well put Teiming in either more danger or save him from the current situation without fail. “Of course. Although, the royal family is already informed, thus sharing the information would be inappropriate.” Jorak made a sad face, but Twig could see that he did not mean it.

“However that may be, I cannot risk diplomatic discussions without any inclination as to what this message might entail. It would be proper to wait it out then.” Twig rubbed his four hands together and then walked towards the large house again. “You may stay here as our guest. For the foreseeable future.” Twig waved the ranger to follow. “Come. I will show you your quarters.” Now it became more and more apparent that Jorak was not satisfied with the outcome of this talks.

“Sir. Please, reconsider. The information is of high importance. Especially to his royal highness!” Twig rolled his eyes. This was too easy. “What his royal highness deems of importance, is entirely up to himself. As his most trusted assistant you will relay this information to me… or wait.” Twig walked towards the house, as to underline his point, but promptly was interrupted. “Wait”, Jorak exclaimed and stepped closer, adjusting his voice to a whisper. “The message regards activity on the northeastern borders, talks about preemptive strikes as well as unusual troop activity behind enemy lines. His highness surely would like to be kept up to date as soon as possible, wouldn’t he?”

Now this information was something he could work with. Twig would try to persuade Teiming to abort negotiations in order to deal with this problem. Hopefully that would work, but at least there was no real way of putting anyone in harm's way, like a royal order could have. If the prince was ordered to force commitment to aid in the war then this whole thing could have gone really, really bad. This was actually one of many good szenarios. Not the best, granted, but still.

“Daz, take the girls and pack some rations. We will depart soon.” His disciple nodded and vanished inside the mansion a few moments later. Jorak stayed next to Twig. “May I ask why we do not just follow?” Twig shrugged. “Are you a good fighter?” The young man blinked in confusion. “I mean… can you handle yourself?” He shook his head and then explained. “If you mean hand to hand combat, then no. I am a good enough bowman, but besides that… I am no warrior.”

Twig grinned a evil smile. “Then before we depart, do me a favour.” The needle like teeth clearly disturbed Jorak and it took a brief moment before he answered. “Of course. What can I do?” He seemed unsure however. “I would like you to fight goblins for me. Right here. Let’s see what you are made off.”

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As usually Jorak counted everything. He had said ten just to find a easy and quick way out of this but this creature clearly had intended to prove him beyond of what he was comfortable with. A group, twenty goblins strong, his arrows that counted fifteen. Fourteen hits, twelve instant kills. He counted them all, and just as he ran out of munition he laid down his weapons in a flowing motion. Drawing daggers he turned to fight the last goblins that chased him.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Twenty eight cuts, seven of them deeper ones and nine mean kicks. That was his reward for killing one goblin with his daggers before he was overwhelmed and beaten. Jorak really sucked at melee combat, as always. It had been the main reason why be had always been drawn to the bow. If he had just been gifted with magic talent, he could have at least fired out a near infinite amount of magical arrows. Running and shooting, that was his only talent.

“Are you satisfied now?”, he asked bitterly. The creature named Twig nodded. “Yes. Drink. Collect your arrows. After that we will leave.” Jorak did as he was told. The healing potion was a real gift. Energy flowed into his wounds and they closed with a tingling feeling. It was the first time he ever experienced this. Healing potions were rare. For one, the herbs were nearly impossible to come by, the other reason was that very few alchemists knew how to accurately produce them.

Jorak was really tempted to just force himself to stand and walk without using it. He could have sold it for quite a few silver coins. But what was done was done. Then he noted the large pool of blood which had made him faint before. It was potion! The whole pool! How was this possible? Jorak was so excited, that he stuttered when he asked if he could have some. “May I take some for later?” Twig only shrugged. “Sure. Have at it. But we come by here later, after delivering the message... So why bother?”

Why bother? Jorak was stunned on this ignorance. A healing potion was really reliable in emergencies, and even if he did not need it he would be able to sell it for at least a silver piece each! Damn rich people. Or creatures? One could only shake one's head on their ignorant thinking…

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Twig was satisfied with the messengers skill. He sucked at fighting with his daggers, possessed no magic and was not physically strong. But he had very good aim and his feet were quick. Running and shooting continuously was a hard skill to master. Jorak clearly had some talent. But that did not matter right now. Twig ignored the man filled all his water bottles with potion and ordered his leftover goblins to stack the new corpses to the others.

Mahta Naht would need quite some time to digest through all of this. Only thirty four goblins remained after all the battles his disciples did. Luckily his mana pool was almost full again and Twig would keep it that way. Of course he would bring his golems, trolls and the few goblins that were leftover, but a full mana pool would allow him to be flexible in his monster choices. The tree had grown. Only slightly, but ten centimeters in a couple of hours… that was impressive growth.

Hopefully she would be able to help him later. Putting that thought aside for now, Twig gathered up his already waiting disciples and they started to head out. Naturally he already knew the way, since his hobgoblin scouts had granted him that knowledge, so it was not at all surprising to see the woodlands change to deep swamps, where roads nearly disappeared only to reappear again hundred of meters further down the line.

They saw harmless animals like squirrels or singing birds, alongside large swamp kois and rabbits. The herbivorous swamp kois were in theory large enough to swallow a small human whole, but showed no interest in such a thing. They immediately dived, or swam away at a quick pace wherever they spotted humans. Twig was not entirely sure how this large natural swamp came to be.

Was it a large river that flooded the area, or heavy rain, unable to be absorbed by the ground? Both theories sounded reasonable, since it had rained a lot yesterday and a river would easily be able to flood a large area if it had no way of escaping the region. Curious he still asked his travel companions. “Does anyone know how the swamps are flooded here?” His disciples shoot their head. “No, I am not from around here. And I have not heard stories.”, Daz said. Marcella added in bored manner: “Ah, who cares. It’s here, we have to go through anyway. It’s not like it would help us to know.” Mira shrugged. “No I don’t. Probably a river? I think.”

Jorak, who had followed in silent and nervous manner spoke up. “I’ve heard that the swamplands are flooded because they refused to sacrifice to one of their gods. That god now floods everything, until he gets a sacrifice of worth. They are savages that sacrifice a few humans every year because of this. Not a nice place to be a beautiful young girl.” Morbidly everyone hung to their thoughts for a while before they stated to ask Jorak questions to all sorts of topics.

It turned out the man was quite knowledgeable. He knew arithmetics, counted well and was able to tell stories from all around the world as it seemed. Twig knew immediately that he had a merchants son or at least a apprentice to a merchant in his group. Why would anyone like that deliver messages for the royal army? Or was he a quartermaster in military logistics? After thinking for a while Twig shrugged and summoned some trolls to keep his mana from capping out.

His monsters had followed them either inside the forest next to them or they had been sent ahead to the next area that was not only swamp. The woods were easy for them to move around in. But it was still quite some way off the enemy armies camp near the town so Twig did hardly ever worry about that for now. Bored, he move closer towards his humans and listened in on their conversations. “..and, if I had a hundred gold pieces I would buy myself a small house and a servant slave just for myself. I would have a feast every week and party until the early morning all the time”, Marcella explained, with a dreamy vision.

“What would you do with that much gold, Daz?”, Mira asked him curiously. “Hm. I have a duty to my family. They are poor farmers, or at least they were. I will have to make their retirement good and keep them safe and happy. Once I have done that, I want to marry. A very special girl. After that keep my family, my wife and maybe kids and my sisters safe and well off. They are married, but still. They are family, I will support them too.”

Mira just stared at the honest explanation Daz had given. Twig felt awkward tension rising between the three of them. Actually he had felt that tension since quite a while. Most likely it would be best to leave them alone. They would figure that out themselves. He did not understand humans that well anyway. So he went to inquire the new guy that lagged behind a bit. “Jorak. Can you tell me some things?”

The young man nodded. “Yes. What is it?” Twig sighted. “I was wondering, what do you work as? Since you are clearly no mere messenger. Your bowmanship is good enough for you to be a soldier.” Again, Twig had no idea if that was true, but his guesses where often on point. Jorak sighted. “I am training with the bow since I was quite young. My older brothers taught me.” Something felt a little off about the whole thing. The boy did not seem like the type that had no ambition. Why wouldn’t he just apply to the army and work his way up there? Messengers would never be special or up for promotions that mattered.

“But why is it that you work as a messenger now? What did you do before that? Who sent you?” Twig did not let off, and it took over an hour of constant little questions to finally get something good out of the scout. “I have worked as a spy, alright? That’s why I have information that I want to sell to the prince. That’s all. I’m so, so sorry, I don’t know anyone from the royal messaging corps or office for internal paper seals. I’m just a guy trying to make a living here, please don’t tell anyone!”

Twig smiled, revealing his needle like teeth. He had lied about departments in the royal palace, made up multiple names and faces and had told him that the prince would expect a seal and a various messaging numbers on the royal information spreadsheet where everyone listed their efforts to obtain and deliver what part of the information. Oh how fun this new human was. He was really, really scared now….