Chapter 20 - Kill 10 Hordelings (Part Six).
Neeka read the words in the blue window hanging in the air in front of her. The symbols, written in the language of the Fuerven, were clearly visible in white on a blue box in front of her. She swiped her claws through the box, which had no effect on it. Curious. She tilted her head sideways. Her hand passed through as if it were not really there. The act of swiping through the box brought back a hazy memory, from when she was a hatchling. As if she had done that before. How could I know... some thing like this? She hissed in annoyance that she could not bring back more of that memory.
Neeka did recall, however, a story told to her by her grandfather many cycles ago. A story shared with him by his grandfather and his before him. A half remembered story of a time when her people stood up to the Collective and their hordeling minions alongside champions known as Travelers. These Travelers were blessed with amazing powers and gifts from the Gods. They were instrumental in holding back the hordelings of the Collective
Unfortunately, they were little more than tales and stories since the terrible Cataclysm that shattered the land and devastated the tribes of her ancestors. That event was how they had earned their new name, the Water Finders. Their tribe had an uncanny knack for ferreting out even the deepest of underground water sources in the wasteland they fled after the Cataclysm burnt away the woodlands they had called home.
If he is a Traveler, he is weak. Untrained. He stumbles into trouble like a hatchling into spikethorn bushes chasing a bug. Neeka stalked over towards Søren and pierced him with her unflinching gaze. She pointed at him and then at the stone. She questioned him with the interrogative cough she had taught to him that all hatchlings seemed to learn instinctively after hatching. One they never stopped using as they explore the new world around them. She reached up and tapped her fore-claw on the symbol to accept the invitation. A soft chime sounded in her ears.
Congratulations [Neeka of the Water Finders, Fuerven Speaker (Copper VI)] on becoming a Citizen of Caisleán. As a Citizen, you will be able to acquire land rights within its zone of control, upon which you can build a home, a business, or utilize the land for the extraction of natural resources or production of agricultural goods. In addition, as the settlement grows from a Village to a Town or larger, so too can the capabilities of the Waystone. Key among them is a connection to the Waystone network, enabling translocation from one stone to another in an instant. Combined with a Resurrection Shard, the Waystone can store the minds of those with the strength to fight against the Collective, even beyond death. The Waystone can restore them to life.
At any time, you may renounce your Citizenship to Caisleán, forsaking the benefits and protections of joining the settlement. You will be precluded from rejoining for a period of thirty cycles.
Neeka read through the notification several times. Though many of the words made little sense to her as she read them, the deeper meaning and intent was imparted to her. Helping Dirt would help her protect her people. Her granddaughter. Where I failed, he succeeded. Luck. Skill. Both be good. Better lucky than dead. Skill can be earned.
She turned away from Dirt as he started clearing away the vines that had grown around the Waystone in her absence. The stone had been of cultural significance to her people. Once a year, the Speaker of the tribe would place the symbol of the Gods on the stone. If the runes on the stone glowed, the Speaker of the tribe would remain the Speaker. If the runes failed to illuminate, a new Speaker would be chosen. A narrowing of her eyes and slightly open mouth showed her amusement at sudden thought to appear in her mind. Speaker does not have to be Fuerven. That will do for now. Neeka made her way over to Torza.
"Torza, do you recall the stories of our ancestors, back to the time of the Cataclysm?" Neeka asked her granddaughter, who kept staring at the illuminated Waystone.
"Yes grandmother. Stories of powerful people. Strength to rival the Gods. Were called something, but I know not what." Torza clasped her claws with Neeka briefly.
"They were called Travelers. Potential allies against the Collective." Neeka turned an eye towards Dirt when the blue light of the illuminated crystal blade filled the area. She could also see the reactions of the other Fuerven in the area when the light was revealed.
"You think he is one?" Torza asked. The older Fuerven with the dulled scales stood a little closer to Neeka, both her eyes on Dirt.
"Yes. I do. We should help him. He is weak, like hatchling. A Hordeling Spawn almost ended his story before it began."
Torza chuffed and narrowed her eyes. "Why help if him so weak?"
"I died. He brought me back. Now he wakes the Stone. Truly awakens it." Neeka turned both eyes back to Torza and clasped claws with her. "It is much to ask. I know. I sense his story, our stories, meant to join."
"You were Speaker. Best of us. We will follow you." Torza squeezed Neeka's hands in hers. Others nearby that had been listening to them and watching Dirt nodded as well. Neeka nodded to them and walked over to Dirt. He had just finished cutting the last of the vines and pulled the leafy mat off the Waystone. He spoke in that fluid, musical language of his. First thing we teach him. How to speak our tongue. She gestured with her claws, drawing a shape like a box in the air in front of her and then pointed to him and then to the rest of the Fuervens that had gathered there. Neeka then pulled the band of white wire holding the symbol of the Gods on it, from around her neck, sliding it past the crest of scales on the back of her neck and head. She handed it to Dirt.
He spoke again, the syllables resonating in the hearing chambers in the side of her head. Dirt then tacked on the interrogative cough. Neeka nodded at him, using the head motion he had often used when trying to mimic the sound of agreement, a back of the throat sound that dragged out longer than most of the short sounds used as punctuation by the Fuerven. Each of the adult Fuerven in the village accepted the invitation one by one until finally the last one accepted. The sentry that had fallen asleep on the job and been ambushed by Neeka.
Dirt's eyes twitched and became unfocused. Neeka waited patiently for Dirt to finish. She was hungry and wanted to get started teaching Dirt the language of the Fuerven. Though they could do much without speaking, it would be a great benefit to learn more about each other. Dirt angrily swiped at the air, much as Neeka had done with the blue window earlier.
Dirt turned and focused his gaze on Neeka. Another blue window appeared inviting Neeka to a group. She simply tapped on the icon in the window that said accept. Her eyes widened in surprise as more words and symbols appeared in her view. A copper colored icon with the symbol for the number six in the top left corner had three bars attached to it. Cyan, purple, and steel. Neeka knew instinctively that these were her health, endurance and essence. Familiar concepts of knowledge and energy within her that she simply knew with every fiber of her being.
Beneath that icon and the bars was a dark copper icon with the symbol for zero, or empty, inside of it. To the right was Dirt's name or title as it had been shown when he brought her back to life, when he invited her to become a Citizen, and just now, when he invited her to a group. Beneath Dirt's name were two bars, cyan and purple. The bar representing his health ticked upwards a tiny bit. Dirt gestured and another window appeared.
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
[Søren Quinn, Archaeologist of Earth] would like to share a mission with you. Do you accept? Y/N
Neeka tapped the left icon to accept the mission. As the notification vanished, a panel of text appeared on the right side of her vision. She quickly read through the contents and gasped.
Defeat the Hordeling Monarch
A Hordeling Monarch is attempting to gain control of a Resurrection Shard in the Mourning Cave. Stop her before it's too late for Caisleán. A monarch that gains control of a Resurrection Shard can convert it into a Hordeling Den and spawn an endless horde of Hordelings.
0 / 1 Hordeling Monarch slain
0 / 3 Hordeling slain
0 / 6 Hordeling Spawn slain
Rewards
• 100 TEK
• 3 settlement build points
• [Uncommon] engram
A Monarch!? Mother said they were the most dangerous of the hordelings. If they could build a nest, a den, it would doom the other tribes of the Water Finders nearby. Neeka grabbed Dirt by the arm and pulled him over to Torza.
"We have problem, granddaughter. A Monarch nests in the Mourning Cave," Neeka explained quickly to Torza. "We need four warriors come with us. Take fight to Collective for change."
Torza simply coughed affirmatively and called out to three of the younger Fuerven gathered around the matron of their tribe. They coughed and scattered into the southern end of the village. Torza then flicked an eye at the sentry that had dozed off after chewing somni berries. "You will go too. Make up for sleep on watch." The sentry paled, his scales actually changing color slightly. Torza and Neeka turned both their eyes on to the sentry and his scales shifted again to match the color of the trees and bushes behind him.
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Strik couldn't believe his bad luck. He had been caught sleeping while on watch. Worse luck, he had been caught with somni berries. He had been careful not to let it stain his teeth, smashing the berries into a pulp and keeping them beneath his tongue, but had used too many this time. The matron had believed the story that female Fuerven had spun about being Neeka, the lost Speaker. Strik didn't believe the story completely, but he couldn't discount the similarity of their scales when standing next to each other. His thoughts were interrupted when Torza flicked an eye at him.
"You will go too. Make up for sleep on watch," she said. He felt his body go weak and he wanted to hide, to be anywhere except where Torza was looking. A powerful sense of the world around him filled his mind. He could sense the colors and shadows of each thing around him and knew instinctively that he could copy those colors. He pushed the essence of the colors into himself and another of those blue boxes appeared.
Congratulations Strik! You have earned the [Fuerven Camouflage] perk.
Oh hells... Devourer take me, what is this madness? His heart beat rapidly and he noticed both Torza and Neeka were staring at him with both their eyes. He cowered further and pushed more of his essence into the feeling of the perk he had just received. He felt his scales shift and the essence spread throughout his body. Others had watched Strik's transformation and were standing with their mouths agape, though he was too preoccupied to understand why.
"Old tales come to life," the matron of the Water Speakers said finally. Her and Neeka turned to each other and spoke softly. Strik relaxed a bit, glad to not be the focus of their attention, and let go of the feeling of the world around him he had captured. His scales shifted back to their normal coloration. The arrival of the other three warriors chosen spared him from further interaction with the matron and her grandmother.
"Time to go," Neeka said to the gathered warriors. Strik followed behind them, one eye flicking back behind him to watch as he departed the only home he had known in his short life and the other on the glowing blue notification that still hung in the air in front of him.
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Søren waited by the Waystone as Neeka and Torza organized a response to the Hordeling Monarch mission, a threat to their people and now to the village of Caisleán they had joined. Maybe I can just put Neeka or Torza in charge, Søren thought to himself. He had been excited at first, still on the edge of treating this like it was a game versus accepting it was real, but the more time he spent with Neeka and the other Fuervens, the range of emotions and interactions between them, he was worried he was in over his head. Don’t sail out farther than you can row back. That was another one of your sayings Da. I think I might have sailed out where there be monsters this time. Wish I could ask you what to do. Søren sighed. Nothing for it now, but to do my best.
Neeka came up to Søren and broke him from his bit of melancholy retrospection. She held up her hand which had six stones in it. She placed two next to each other and gestured at her and Søren. Then she pushed the other four stones close and pointed at the four Fuerven that were standing near with bows, spears, and daggers held in their clawed hands or stored for travel.
"Group. You want me to invite them to our group," Søren guessed.
Neeka nodded and tried to speak the word, though it came out more like croop. Given the rest of the game-like elements associated with wherever he was, or whenever, it wasn't a shock to see an element in the interface for group members status bars. He had tried to get it to show numbers like his own, but the interface stubbornly refused to show anything more than Neeka's name and the bars. Could be a privacy setting Neeka doesn't know about. Søren focused his intent on each of the four warriors, including the sentry they had snuck up on, and invited them to the group.
"Hali, Sehro, Ihza, and Strik. Pleasure to meet you all," Søren said, trying to keep his teeth hidden behind his lips as he smiled at them. He needn't have worried. The four were talking, hissing, and coughing at each other, ignoring Søren. They gestured at the interface that had become visible for them and would have continued arguing had Neeka not gotten their attention with a sharp cough. Even Søren felt the intent behind that one, despite not having heard it before. Neeka turned away from them all and set a quick pace away from the Waystone, back towards the Mourning Cave. Søren checked the progress on his upgrade. Just under an hour. Should be done by the time we get there.
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Neeka led the group at a quick pace, despite every instinct telling her to run back to Home and take her people and flee. Everything her mother had taught her about the Collective and the hordelings they used as their soldiers left her shaking inside. During her time as Speaker, Neeka had met many times with other clans in the Water Speakers tribe, as well as traveling to distant lands to speak with other tribes to discuss hunting rights, to arrange joinings for young ones, and share information regarding the Collective.
Her clan had settled in the valley long ago, traveling further south and east than most towards the stony spine of the Serpent that made the World. They had faced far fewer attacks from the Collective than the others and were able to grow in relative safety. To hear of the attacks that had taken place in her absence, it worried her. What has become of the People in so few cycles? It was something for her to explore later, not get bogged down in possibilities. What was it that father said while training, Neeka thought. The spearman advances, never stops. Always moving forward. Something like that, she sighed.
Neeka kept one eye focused on the trail ahead, her other eyes flicking about keeping watch for any potential threats and checking on the other Fuerven with them. They were all unknowns to her. She would have to watch them carefully. Particularly the one that she had caught sleeping. The entrance to the Mourning Cave appeared over the edge of the path ahead of them. Despite the pace and the incline of the path upwards, the six of them had made good time. Dusk had fallen and the last rays of the Lifegiver washed the side of the mountain in deep red and orange, fading to a dark purple as the sun vanished beneath the horizon.
"We camp here. Set up watches," Neeka called out to Strik and the other Fuerven. They shrugged off small packs from their backs and set about preparing camp for the evening.
Dirt had stepped over towards the edge of the path, where they had stood a scant few hours ago. He was watching the Lifegiver set. He turned towards her, his flat face split by his mouth in what she took for amusement or happiness. His teeth were showing, which triggered an instinct within her that she fought down. Baring your teeth was a threat display among the Fuerven.
"Hello Neeka," Dirt said in the Fuervan language. "Søren happy see you."