Ribbit.
The croaks of a lanky creature covered in green and pastel scales echoed across the damp forest floor. Breaching past the barks of the thicket, a merloc revealed its roundish head, craning its head from side to side, observing the horizon for any intruders. Its massive bulging eyes pulsated with every blink, its light-pastel eyelids translucent, with a slit carved into its humongous hazel iris. It opened its massive mouth almost the size of its shoulders, snapping a long, tubular tongue outside, slicing the wind from its blurry speed. Its bulbous hands and feet sucked on the forest floor beneath, shaped like webbed human fingers. Pallid, soft skin covered its underside with the hue of light brown.
“I saw one-no, three of them, hiding behind bushes and the trees,” Oswul relayed what he saw with a prompt speech, “They haven’t seen us yet. If we engage, be careful of their long, elastic tongue. They hit harder than you think. Faster too.”
Zayne treaded atop the fingers of the branches, each step light enough to generate close to no sound and shaking. Gilbert and Wyne kept their distance, only proceeding once Oswul gave them a signal. The croaks halted once Zayne entered a distance when the merlocs grew from green, scintillating silhouettes to a bunch of lanky frog-like figures. One of them snapped its head as a tree shook in the distance, ignoring it in favor of a nearby rustling of undergrowth where Gilbert and Wyne were. It dipped its head, wiggling its way toward them with a snake-like maneuver, tapping the wet dirt in silence. Two others merlocs followed its lead, trailing its behind as Zayne drew his spear.
Oswul traced their steps as the murlocs pushed the webs of branches, stretching his bowstring to its limits. Zayne couldn’t see Gilbert clearly from where he stood, but he assumed things were fine on their end by Oswul’s composure. He grasped his spear tight, twitching as he began their preemptive assault. He leaped as Oswul lets an arrow loose. Gilbert’s roar trailed his descent as his spear found the backside of a throbbing merloc. Violet blood splattered, its viscosity clinging to his armor like glue as his spear reached the other end of its body. A mighty swing from Gilbert and a few magic bolts ended the life of the other one, and Oswul’s arrows found their target, rupturing the bulbous eye of a merloc and steering it off balance, finished off by Zayne’s blade.
“That’s clean.” Wyne wiped the glistening sweat off her forehead as she slumped on her staff. “Oswul, are there more on the way?”
Oswul shook his head, “Nope. We’re good. For now.”
Zayne rested a palm on a deceased merloc, wincing against its slick, sticky scales. A somewhat rough gem appeared between his index and thumb fingers, eliciting a sigh from him. No essence gem again. He wondered what kind of skill or spell he’d get from the merlocs, he failed to picture him owning a skill where his tongue would shoot out like these monsters.
The party continued their slow, careful march deeper into the grove.
Signs of dead livestock appeared once they reached a particularly dark spot, where light nigh breached the absolute density of branches and leaves atop the opening. Below, a sludge, stagnant pool of water textured like dung rested in a crevice, writhing with the occasional bubbles, acting as if it was sentient. Oswul pinched his nose upon that sight, muttering a silent curse as Zayne held on from proceeding forward. It took a few seconds before Zayne’s eyes adjusted to the shift in lighting, revealing the contents of the sizzling pond-
“Eggs.” Oswul said, leaning his head forward, “And if there are eggs around here, that means there’s a queen nearby…”
“A queen?” Wyne completed his sentence, “Is that why the merlocs are acting up?”
“I don’t know… Restin said that the merlocs have been here for a long time, and only recently they began to attack, so there had to be another reason…” resting his hands on his chin, he observed the circle of trees around the sludge, “I-I don’t see anything amiss here. Well, other than the pond, that is.”
Gilbert yawned as he sat below an imperious, looming bark, “Can we deal with the queen? At our level, the goblin chief is just outside of our reach, so…” He gazed at the opening seeping in from the cracks between the trees, “You said the merlocs are about the same level as the goblins, right?”
“The jump in strength between a merloc and a merloc queen isn’t that high, unlike the goblins,” Oswul replied as he scoured the circle of closing trees, then stood up and faced the other side with a sigh. “Although that’s what the books said. To be honest, I don’t know for sure. If we’re hesitant about our odds, we should head back and let the stronger adventurers finish this mission.”
Wyne shook her head. “No. We can do it. No way I’m running again,” her eyes shifted to Zayne, “If we play it smart, we can deal with whatever the queen will do. I’m sure. Besides, I’m not gonna fail my first mission, never.” Her eyes gleamed with repressed regret and desire.
“Heh, nicely put, Wyne.” Gilbert ruffled the back of his hair. “Now, I suppose we head deeper?” Zayne glimpsed at the darkened thicket athwart where they stood and nodded. Wyne’s words struck close to his heart, the painful reminder of their escape from the goblins still fresh in their minds.
I’m not running too.
###
The parting branches allowed the party access to the deepest parts of the grove, which smelled purely of moist dirt and lichens. The air around these parts was too moist for their noses to ignore; in Zayne’s case, his nose turned runny.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“There,” Oswul said when he spotted another gathering of merlocs in a distance, partially covered by the thick vegetation and overgrowths. Zayne leaped to a nearby tree, swinging from branch to branch, traversing the upper forest with the others tailing his advance. His eyes spotted four of them gathering in a circle, each loafing about on a clearing, spending their time doing nothing.
Zayne turned his head toward Oswul’s panting figure. Four this time, He whispered, “Ready?”
Oswul glanced below, nodding once Gilbert and Wyne gave a thumbs up. “We’ll go with the same strategy again.”
“Right…” He lowered his head, finding a decent spot where his feet secured enough footing for a leap, then blitzed through the air.
Whips of leaves slapped his cheeks as he descended, destroying the plump head of an unaware merloc, drawing the ire of the others. Their shocked screeches woke the forest floor, each high pitch resonating against the tall barks and waving leaves, then silenced by Oswul’s fine shooting and matched by Gilbert’s swing. Two were dead in an instant, the other shot its tongue with the speed of an arrow, nigh piercing Zayne’s shoulder had he stood still.
Zayne latched onto its elongated, sticky tongue, yanking it toward him with all his might. The frog-like monster tumbled toward him, and his head met against Gilbert’s cleaving swing, severing its face in half. An arrow and a bolt clashed against the last merloc, which died after the party’s collective attack. The second batch netted Zayne another two gems, but no essence gem was found. Again.
With a determined stare, they scoured the deep forest for more merlocs, killing about a dozen before a massive merloc showed up.
Their queen stood about five times a merloc’s usual size with fat limbs and a mouth bigger than its face and torso combined. Its back ballooned with pulsating circular orbs; after a closer look, Oswul determined that those were its egg sacs. Each step caused a tiny tremor as the queen swiveled its head back, revealing its maddened eyes, emanating a red haze.
“What the hell?” Oswul’s eyes gaped at the sight, “That’s not… That’s not how it’s supposed to look! Gilbert! Wyne! Zayne! We have to-”
A large tongue shot from its open maw, slicing the air as it destroyed the tree where Oswul perched, “Shit-“
[Poison strikes] [adrenaline]
Strong… Zayne pounced below to buy Oswul time, sidestepping the next cannon in the form of its tongue. Air curved along its trajectory, its force powerful enough to push Zayne away from the rush of air alone, even with adrenaline up. “WYNE!” He called out, “Fortify Brawn! Now!”
A surge of strength propelled him upward, scraping the next tongue flick as he swung on a branch and reached its eyes. Zayne pulled his spear back, generating enough momentum for a thrust, taking as much air in to boost his strength. Yet the haze stopped him dead in his tracks, nigh paralyzing him as he slammed head-first onto the queen’s upper lip. It opened its jaw, revealing its corroded innards; puss, and holes where flesh was supposed to be tainting its insides. He held himself from hurling from the stench of death and the sight, shielding his face upon its closing jaw, but the explosion of a magic bolt pushed its back far enough for its crunch to bite air.
The haze thinned when Zayne felt Gilbert’s hand yanking at his hood, “Go back! The haze, it’s paralyzing you!” He yelled as another tongue slammed against his sword, propelling him a few paces backward. A few arrows pierced the scarlet haze, eliciting a pained groan when they hit its weak spots. “What the hell is going on?” Gilbert gasped as the tongue stopped its rampage, allowing the party to retreat far enough for its wounded eyes to detect them.
###
“I’ve never seen any book describing such a monster before… Merloc queens don’t come with smoky eyes, not ever, unless the thing we see is a new variant of the monster.” Oswul clutched his bow as they hunkered under the guise of the forest, fearing merlocs for the first time in their lives. “Is that why the merlocs began attacking the farmlands? Because of this… infected queen?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Wyne snapped, “We need to figure out what to do now. The mission parameter had changed. We can return to the hall and report this. No way this mission is in the F-3 range, not with that lurking in this grove.”
“Damn it.” Gilbert clutched his hands as he knelt, “I’m so sick of turning tail and running.”
“But-“
“I know, I know… It’s the wise thing to do.” He spoke with a thick air of despair, “I’m just…”
Wyne rubbed his back, “I feel the same way too. But we have to do things the right way. Going in against that with our current strength is…” She gazed at the quiet forest, “not… good.”
Zayne leaned on the strong bark of a tree, clutching his spear, frustrated, like the others. No way the other five gold-card members would back off here, and if Zayne himself couldn’t beat it… What good would he be in the dungeon later? He’d be a spectator again, like in his previous life. “No.” He shook his head. “I’m not going back.”
His response caught the ears of the siblings. “Zayne, we-“
“I know it’s dumb, but…” He deflated, “No way the other gold card owners will retreat here. There’s no doubt they’ll kill this thing one way or another. If I can’t beat it, what good will I be later?” He voiced his frustrations loud and clear, allowing the siblings closer access to his thoughts, “Sorry… I… I don’t know what to do.”
The truth dangled in front of his sight, as clear as the hanging vines and the brown barks surrounding him; Zayne had no way of beating the queen on his own. Its haze rendered melee attacks ineffective, meaning only Oswul or Wyne could potentially damage it.
A minute passed in suffocating silence as each person held their thoughts to themselves. Each knew that running would be the wise option here, but Zayne’s voice did touch on their deepest concerns about their future. All of them aspired to be strong. All of them were willing to go as far as they could to achieve it, yet the cold grasp of death paralyzed them to the core, like the haze the queen produced.
“Is there… a way to avoid the haze?” Oswul was the first to speak, and his words dismissed their previous topic, “Does the haze only work when you breathe it in? I think we can take it on if the haze is rendered useless.”
Breathing? Shit. “No… you may have something here.” Zayne rose from his seat, “I… took a deep breath before I tried to stab it. And now that you mention it, I’m only affected when I’m close enough to it.”
“Proximity and air transmission…” Oswul brushed his chin, “It works like how air poisons worked, so if we take that into account… Well, it’ll still be dangerous as hell, a mistake could very well spell our doom here.”
Wyne watched their conversation with careful interest, “Don’t get my hopes up. I’ll follow your lead if you wish to challenge it, Gilbert, but you have to understand the risks here.” She tapped his shoulder, “So, what do you say?”
Gilbert chuckled, “Well if you put it that way…” He leaned on his giant blade and stood, “Come. We’ll try our new strategy out. If anything goes awry, we’ll convene here again.”
###
Croaks from the frenzied merloc queen reverberated around the thicket as the party made their way back to where she lingered. Dribbles of blood clung near its eyes—a reminder of Oswul’s superb aim—but for a glance, it appeared that its eyes had healed. The haze permeated as thickly as he remembered, and when things were quiet, Zayne’s mind rewound to the fight with the poisonous panther. So stupid. He cussed while leaping from a branch, landing silently with his padded soles.
“[Fortify brawn]” Wyne chanted under her breath, keeping her voice as low as possible while Gilbert positioned himself. Along their way, the siblings concocted a haphazard plan; Gilbert would draw its attention away from the party, preferably turning its direction away from the others while both his siblings pelted the merloc with everything they had. Zayne would then attempt to deal most of the damage with his spear and his sword. A simple plan, and it all comes down to execution. Zayne concluded with a hopeful disposition. In his mind, the most damage he could inflict would come from his poison.