Alistair continued his journey deeper into the dark forest. There were still scattered signs of struggle, but no bodies. Further ahead, there were drag marks in the dirt. Ominous.

It didn’t take long before he reached his destination. A cave, nay he thought, more of a burrow. A hole in the ground at the perfect angle so that he could walk through it rather than crawl. If it were just the hobs they might have made the entrance too small for him to get inside, but because their orcs had to move freely, Alistair managed to get in by just ducking his head.

This was not a natural formation either. The hobs were busy little things digging out the dirt and stone into something he imagined to be stable. Given their burrowing habits and clay-like skin, Alistair wondered if all this meant they were twisted and deformed spirits of the earth. None of the stories he had ever heard about the hobs hinted at their origin, only that they loved to take humans for their insidious schemes. One story in particular had them kidnap children from their beds, right out from under their parents’ noses.

What the hobs did with them was only ever implied by whoever told the story. No one knew for sure, no one alive anyway.

Near the mouth of the cave, as he worked his way down, Alistair caught a whiff of something in the air. Something cooking over a fire. He noticed the smoke now. It stuck to the ceiling of the cave and drifted back out the way he came in. The smell, or rather the stench, became stronger the deeper he went. It was difficult to say what it was, as he didn’t recognize the scent, but it made him feel uneasy.

There was a dim glow from some source of light deeper in. That became Alistair's guide as he descended. The cave consisted of just the central shaft for most of his journey down. Nothing but bumpy stone walls and hooved prints in the dirt. Further down he came upon a split path, and he paused to think.

Only the main path had any light to it, and that was presumably where the smell was coming from. Even with the Sight helping him he could only see so far ahead in the darkness of the other two passageways. The chamber he stood in now felt cramped even with an orc’s size in mind. He struggled to maintain his full height in this space, and he knew that could mean trouble if a fight broke out there.

I best stay on the same path, Alistair thought. When he made to go forward, he heard something. A scratching sound. Like claws against stone. He focused on his hearing and listened again. That was when he heard them.

They were chattering, the hobs were. Almost like a gravelly giggling fit. He could tell they were trying to be quiet but their evil, mischievous nature had won out this time. They were lying in wait for him in the darkness somewhere, their excitement bubbling over. He saw no glowing eyes in the dark and that meant they actually had their eyelids closed. Clever little devils that they were.

Alistair tightened the grip on his newly acquired axe. He was surprised they hadn’t attacked yet. Patience was the last virtue he would have imagined a hob having. Well, he certainly didn’t want to go along with whatever their plan was.

So he decided to play a trick of his own.

He deployed Living Shield again. The magic spread out around him and the soft cooing of the hobs changed into something more bestial. Alistair waited in the middle of the forked chamber for them. Many sets of golden eyes popped open in the flanking passageways. The hobs began to shout and scream as they charged him. He counted at least another half dozen of them, and they wielded clubs this time for the tight corridors.

The first one got its head cleaved off before it could touch him. Even an unrefined weapon like this axe was more than sharp enough. He continued to use it to great effect and killed another with an overhead strike, cleaving the hob into two pieces.

There was little space for him to maneuver. The four other hobs were on him in seconds. They beat at him with their simple clubs, but their wooden weapons thudded against him to little effect. They couldn’t penetrate his Aegis’s damage resistance. One swung so hard it even managed to break its club into pieces. The thing’s scream of frustration was cut off as Alistair used his free hand and slapped him away.

And instead of a slap, it was more of a throw directly into the stone wall.

That left three of them. They ignored their dead comrades, even ignored the failure of their weaponry, because of the spell's potency. The Living Shield ability didn’t act as anything other than a taunt, but it did its job well against weak-minded things like the hobs. It gave him the opportunity to pick them off at his leisure with the axe, swinging and chopping with little finesse.

Moments later and the remains of six hobs occupied the floor. He didn’t waste his time and headed deeper. There wasn’t much more to this place, he could feel it. And yet still there were no signs of the captive humans. Was he too late?

Alistair soon received his answer, though a part of him wished he hadn’t.

Minutes later and he was at the mouth of a large central chamber, right at the end of the main shaft. There was indeed a large fire in the middle and it was well stocked with piles of firewood, no doubt taken from the forest above. On top of that fire was a large pot, almost a cauldron, and stewing away inside was a human, or at least the body of one.

He very much hoped that the man was dead. His skin was a frightening shade of red. Every part of his face was well dried, lips chapped and mouth slack-jawed. All his hair was gone and in fact, Alistair noticed the head had been scalped completely. Next to the pot were bundles of chopped-up remains. He could clearly see human appendages there, still stained with fresh blood. Alistair couldn’t bear to look that way any further.

Unfortunately, the rest of the room’s contents were little better.

While the gruesome sight of the pot had been quite eye-catching, it quickly fell to the bottom of his concerns. A single hob occupied the room and it was dressed in a ratty robe with various idols and fixtures to it. Most hobs barely wore anything at all, so this one seemed important. The creature wielded a staff or wand of some kind, and it chanted a foul incantation as it danced in the middle of a strange carving etched into the stone and dirt.

His blood ran cold when he noticed there were human children in the middle of this circle. All of them were deathly still, comatose even. Their skin was pale as if they were dead, but he could see them take the faintest of breaths as they lay there. The hob was doing something to do them, and whatever it was couldn’t be good.

Alistair ran directly at the shaman. Perhaps it hadn’t noticed him yet and he might be able to stop it. Suddenly, Alistair was flung back into a wall with something around his waist. He looked down and saw the familiar topknot of an orc’s matted hairpiece.

The beast had managed to stop him before he could get too close to the shaman, who continued his chant unabated. It came from an alcove in the chamber that Alistair hadn't seen from the entrance. And now he noticed two more orcs stalk out of this hiding place and approach his pinned form.

The one that held him had nothing in its hands. All of its strength was focused on holding Alistair down. The other two, however, were fully decked in the gear he had observed from the last orc: an axe and wood shield. He swung his own axe down on the head of the orc that held onto his body. A sickening crunch, then blood sprayed from the wound. The thing went limp around him.

This was the first time he'd used a proper weapon against an orc, and he found that their skin was tough to penetrate. He still managed it, and indeed he knew it was dead when it slumped to its knees in front of him. The Sight soon confirmed his suspicions that orcs had some measure of damage resistance too. That meant he would have to hit them hard and in a vulnerable spot like the head, otherwise they could sustain more hits than their hob masters.

The remaining orcs for their part immediately charged when they saw Alistair dispatch their comrade. There was no need for Living Shield against these things as they had no sense to run away, especially not when they were cornered like he had them. Still, Alistair thought, what if he used his taunt to prevent the shaman from casting its spell?

That thought had to wait as he shifted his body out of the way of a vicious axe strike. While that orc recovered, Alistair attempted to block the other one with the flat side of his axe blade. The two weapons met and the combatants found themselves in a short battle of strength against one another. If he had more time perhaps he could have won, but the other orc appeared at his flank again.

Alistair pushed the other axe away and repositioned so that both were at his front. Two against one made this difficult. He found himself edging back to the mouth of the chamber. He couldn’t let them get around the back of him again. Especially not orcs with their level of strength. This momentary pause let the orcs regroup. They each took one side of him, dividing his attention. Even these beasts had clever moments.

He activated Living Shield again. It actually worked in his favor; the orcs abandoned their plan. Both came charging at him from the front again, eyes red with rage. Unfortunately, it seemed to have no effect on the shaman who continued its dancing and chanting even as the pulse reached it. Some kind of immunity?

The Sight had some words pop up over the shaman, something about it being a ‘Leader’ that made it immune. Alistair refocused on the battle in front of him. Again he blocked a strike with the cheek of his axe. He felt the sting of pain as the other creature managed to connect with the side of his ribs. The measure of his vitality steadily drained as the axe was forced deeper into his chest plate.

When the orc attempted to pull its weapon free of the Aegis armor, Alistair took his free hand and gave him a swift hit to the snout. This was enough to temporarily daze it and the creature stumbled backward clutching its face. He lost his focus on the other one when he did this, however, and it struck at him again with both hands on its axe grip.

This added strength was enough to break Alistair’s guard. The strike shattered the axe he had been using to block. It even managed to graze his chest plate and again his vitality took a hit. He was at less than half the bar now, and he felt his strength ebb. Desperate and fueled by this pain, Alistair removed the axe embedded in his ribs with a pained snarl.

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With this new weapon, he swung at the orc in front of him with all his might. It managed to bring up its wooden shield and the axe dug into it. The orc screamed as Alistair’s strength was enough to penetrate the weak material and embed the sharp end right into the orc’s forearm. He used this opportunity to bring both his fists down upon the orc, roaring as he did, and he crushed its head.

The last one had ceased fumbling with its snout and was on him again. Alistair was brought to the ground with a tackle. The agony from his wounds had left it difficult for him to maintain balance. The orc sat on top of him now, pummeling his head and chest with its meaty green fists. Even with his damage resistance in mind, the strikes were painful and disorienting. He found it difficult to get a hold of the orc as it flailed about, and it threw his arms aside as he tried to block the blows aimed at his head.

Next to him, a dropped axe lay by one of the corpses. He reached for it even as he was battered by the mindless beast atop him. With a triumphant growl, he threw his arm out and managed to grab the weapon. Before the last orc even knew what had happened, it was dead from an axe buried deep into the side of its skull. He rolled the orc's body off of him and managed to get onto one knee.

A disturbing wisp of blackness had begun to eke out of the shaman’s staff and the magic encircled the children. Even if he could stand, Alistair doubted he could reach the shaman in time. He noticed one last axe on the ground at his feet. The other one was much too deep in that orc’s head and his old one shattered, but this final third one was still good to use.

He readied it in his hand and thanked the Lady for the fact that the shaman had stopped moving around. It was now a perfectly still target. Alistair threw the axe with all his might at the final hob. The weapon flew as gracefully as something with its crude construction could and, with all the weight of the Aegis behind it, collided with the hob’s back. The body, or what was left of it, flew across the chamber and was actually impaled to the wall with all that force.

As soon as the hob died, so too did its spell. He knew not what it had been trying to do, but the black magic receded and then faded into harmless air. Alistair managed to get to his feet and hobble over to the children. They were still asleep and would be for who knew how long, but they were safe now.

That small victory became quickly overshadowed by the hopelessness he felt. He glanced toward the cooking pot and with it the food of the hobs, and he feared he was too late to save anyone but these few children.

Then he saw words fill his vision again.

Quest of Elimination

Complete

Rewards

Small Universal Renown Gain

Modest Duchy of Isen Renown Gain

Milestone Progress

One of his quests had been finished. In a way, he realized it indirectly confirmed that the shaman had been the last member of this warband. At least he knew there were no more enemies to fight. With his wounds to consider, Alistair was thankful. He’d be of no use to the villagers, or anyone else really, if he were dead. Barely anyone would even remember his name if he died down there.

Duchy of Isen’s Reputation improved to Blessed

Duchy of Isen’s Renown improved to Recognized

More words that he could read but was not entirely sure he understood. At the very least it seemed his actions there tonight would be recognized. That meant at least he had received some notable credit.

There would be time for explanations later. The other quest, the one for the Emancipation of the captured villagers, had not yet been completed. He wondered if it required him to get the children outside. If they were awake he could easily carry four of them, two in each arm and at least another two on his shoulders. As it were he only felt comfortable carrying one or maybe two.

Is it day yet, he wondered? Perhaps Sir Manus would be on the way with help. No, he couldn’t rely on the unknown. He had to make do with what he had. And what he had were two strong arms. Alistair scooped two of the children into his grasp and began the slow march back out to the relative safety of the forest.

It was when he reached the next chamber with the three forks that he hesitated. The quest did imply the hobs and orcs were dead, but he felt the need to inspect the tunnels to ensure there was nothing left to chance. The creatures could have been tunneling with a greater purpose in mind. Perhaps to link their cave to another warband in the area. If so, the cave would need to be sealed and Wyrdwood’s garrison alerted.

Alistair carefully set the children down and ventured down the path on the right. It went for a short ways before opening up into another chamber. There were no torches or lights here, but he could tell with the Sight that this was their sleeping quarters. Scattered bundles of leather hides and cloth blankets were the only things here. There was no treasure chest to be opened or a fair maiden to rescue.

He turned back and then tried the other way. This one curved a bit and there he was surprised to find a door. Somehow the hobs had managed to build out a kind of jail cell. Again, there were no sources of light. Through a set of lashed wooden bars, he saw figures on the other side. Humans, at least a dozen if not more.

A sense of relief washed over him. He wasn’t too late. Many were still missing, too many to properly account for. They huddled together against the back wall, terrified. But at least some of them had survived.

It was there in the middle of the room that he spotted something odd. With the darkness, even with the Sight helping him, he struggled to make out its exact shape. Some sort of crystal, he guessed. His focus on it actually revealed something as the Sight began to scrawl words in front of him again.

Small Eldritch Focus Crystal

Absorbs the negative emotions of nearby creatures.

Suppresses strength and positive feelings.

He had never heard of such a thing before. It sounded disturbing. What did it mean by ‘Eldritch’? And where did the hobs find it?

Alistair used his strength to dismantle the door in front of him. It barely took any effort from him. The sounds of wood being pulled apart frightened the people and they shrieked and wailed.

“Be calm, I’ve come to free you,” Alistair said, his voice booming in the cave. Doubly so given his transformed state.

They quieted down and some stood up to try and see what was happening. With the door ripped down, Alistair managed to convince them to leave. The captives shuffled past him in a state of muted distress. Their physical state appeared mostly unharmed, aside from the lethargy, but it was their psyches that were truly damaged. Given the last twelve hours of events, he wasn’t surprised. There was something about the crystal that made him suspicious.

When he went to look at it closer he realized the focus crystal floated of its own volition. There wasn't a stand or pedestal to maintain it. The crystal could fit inside the palm of his hand, in his Aegis form at least, and the shape was that of two pyramids glued to the bottom of one another.

The closer he got to the thing, the worse he felt. Every emotion he might consider a positive feeling was being sapped from him. He felt weak, tired, and slow all at once. Alistair realized just how strong this artifact was at that moment.

Smash it to bits.

That was the overriding feeling he had in his head as he stood in the presence of the crystal. Everything about its existence was wrong. It shouldn’t be there, in this world. His instincts told him that he had to either leave this thing and never come back, or destroy it right now.

Alistair did the latter and closed his fist around it. It fell apart in his hands, ground to dust. Immediately, a sense of relief rushed through his body. The emotions that were once suppressed and absorbed were now returning to him in a gradual way, like the trickle of a stream. He wanted nothing more to do with this place.

Back in the forked chamber with the survivors, he saw that they too were active again. They hugged and kissed each other, some even smiled. A pair of mothers and fathers ran to the children he had left on the ground and hugged them close.

The Aegis user pointed toward the light. “There are more children deeper in.”

Some of those that remained went down there to fetch them. They went in relieved, but when they returned with children in tow, their faces were those of deep sadness and terror. It was then that Alistair remembered the 'meal' that had been cooking. He regretted that he couldn’t shield them from that horrid sight.

Still, with the survivors collected and the warband destroyed, it was time to go. They stood beneath his lumbering form in awe and wordlessly followed behind him as he began the trek back to the surface. He was thankful to see bits of sunlight coming through the hole the closer he got. The nightmare was almost over.

It was only when he lifted his head out of the hole was he welcomed with an innocent morning view. Clear skies with a beautiful sun were there to greet him. A small blessing from the Lady perhaps, after such a horrible time below ground.

He heard distant shouting as it seemed the knights had gathered a group to enter the forest. The woods were too thick to see through but he imagined at least a cartful of men-at-arms would have been summoned by now from Wyrdwood. Perhaps even Sergeant Taggard and the rest were there to help.

Fortunate for them there was nothing left for them to do but help the villagers rebuild. It was at that point he received one final message before it was time to return to the settlement. It was his Quest of Emancipation rewards: more renown and progress, the same as the last.

And then something of interest popped up.

Aegis Mantle

Level 2 Unlocked

Universal Damage Resistance

15% -> 17.50% total resistance.

Living Shield | Ability

30ft -> 60ft range | 1 -> 2 minute duration

More progress made. Perhaps the paragon spirit inside of his relic token was satisfied with his work today. He hoped the Lady had been watching too.

New!

Knockout

Passive Ability

Every successful attack you make has a 10% chance of stunning the enemy.

Stun lasts for only a few seconds, so make them count.

The higher your level, the more likely Knockout will activate.

A new feature to the Aegis. It seemed useful even from his relatively inexperienced position. If the enemy were stunned then they certainly wouldn’t be hitting him or his allies. Most importantly, it was an ability that would work without him needing to do anything. That would help him stay focused in the heat of battle.

Hidden beneath the crimson helm, he began to smile. ‘Twas a good reward to start the new day, he thought. He was starting to feel a bit like a paladin after all.