[https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/929765243184357380/1114842709933441075/gbheader1.png]
Chapter 4 - Deam Eater
Officially it was now Percy's turn to ride the begrudging yet reliable mule, which meant it was also Goreblaster's turn to complain constantly about it. Which he did. Despite being built like somebody who was not aware of the maximum limit to human muscle mass – and doing little to actually maintain that outside of his battles, he certainly did throw a strop about any kind of exercise.
Percy was able to tune this out. There were a number of things you could call Goreblaster, but he tended to be a man of his word. The spherical manager had been wise enough to put in their contract that they would get equal time on the beast of burden. Owning two animals for travel was of course out of the question. Goreblaster had a strict no-adventuring-party deal, where he would refuse to work with others – it was only by miracle that Percy was allowed along, if only because together they were a perfect package.
Whilst Goreblaster was fully proficient in dispatching the monster of the week, and look darn tootin' doing it, Percy knew how to leverage which creature in what location to maximise public image and profits. And all those profits were funnelled into upgrades and magical items for Goreblaster to increase the stock of bad guys he could bully in the least amount of time. Percy also had the knack of staying out of danger, which cut down on the need for heroic saviour moments.
"Stop ignoring me and thinking about lore," the barbarian whined, "I'm getting sand in my boots."
"Your own fault for choosing aesthetics over practical use," Percy huffed back, "Anyway, it should be getting rockier shortly as we begin our mountain ascent."
Goreblaster grumbled at how right the short (much shorter than his above-average height) assistant was. It was only a few minutes later before they were at the base of the mountain and the dry plains gave way to rockier terrain. He stopped to shake out the loose sand from his fur-lined boots, the small grains falling like rain that this area had obviously been sorely lacking as of late.
"This Dream-Eater is your standard fare eldritch horror-looking beast," Percy informed him as he passed. "Tentacles, weird eyes, lives in a damp cave type of thing. Comes out at night to drain the dreams of anyone sleeping nearby."
"A cave like that one?" Goreblaster pointed a stubby, yet soft, finger up to part of the mountain where a cave mouth responded with a shocked expression.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
"Let's find out," Percy shrugged and aimed the inevitable Fern towards their new destination.
The ascent was not as difficult as it looked, but Goreblaster still grimaced as he hopped from ledge to ledge, sweat running down his chiselled, muscled form like he hoped not to do if he slipped. Late morning sunshine bore down on him, and he briefly regretted his fashion choices.
"Oh Percy, nobody is going to see this though, right?"
"We'll have to Orb it, Gore, send it to the nearest town. I'm sure they'll be glad to have their dreams back."
Goreblaster shrugged, somewhat disappointed. Recorder Orbs just weren't the same thing. Sure, they captured the event in some kind of mystical sphere that could be rewatched – but it doesn't have the same impact as having people there watching it happen. Not even he cared to watch over the tiny, grainy orb to review his exploits – and he was his biggest fan.
Upon reaching the cave opening, Goreblaster immediately stepped into the shaded area and wiped the sweat from his forehead and back of his neck, where his long flowing dark hair had turned the area into a sweltering pit for the damned. Fitting, he thought, and then remembered there would be no one to watch him fight in hell either. It truly would be a hellish fight.
Percy hopped off of the mule and gave him a pat. "Won't be long Fern; stay safe."
Fernando immediately turned and started walking away, almost rolling his eyes if that were possible. You could just tell from his body language that was what he would want to convey – so much sass.
Goreblaster withdrew Pureheart which glowed a soft blue, illuminating the cavern before them. Jutting rocks formed stalactites and stalagmites, which was odd because the nature of the topography didn't really seem to give credence to this sort of formation. They were at least not in the shape of a large toothy maw, which was always the first thing to check when entering an unknown cave. Goreblaster wouldn't fall for that trick a third time.
As they weaved their way down the cool, rocky tunnel, Percy withdrew the Recorder Orb and held the white sphere tightly in his pudgy mitts, like a stocky seal with a particularly large onion.
The darkness enveloped them as they progressed, the faint light from the magical sword doing little but casting grey shadows from rock to rock. With a quick intake of breath, Goreblaster stopped and held his hand out in warning to the shortsighted assistant.
A tentacle.
Or perhaps an ugly snake that let itself go – but the barbarian was betting on the former. The purple flesh of the appendage wrapped around one of the natural stone supports. Following the lengthy tentacle led to the main body of the beast. A bulbous form with several further reaching tendrils of eldritch nature… and the creature appeared to be asleep.
Killing the monster while it slept would not be particularly heroic, even if ironic. Ironic deaths being in the top five of Goreblaster's preferred methods.
"Come monster, wake unto your living nightmare!" he yelled, having workshopped the resulting phrase during the trek.
As the echoes of his voice carried throughout shadowed pits of the unknown depths of the creature's lair – it stirred. Two rows of eyes opened up in a cross shape across the round body of the Dream Eater, twisting and glancing around confused, much like Percy without his glasses, before the mass of red iris' focused on the trespasser.
The blue glow of the Pureheart sword enveloped Goreblaster as he put one foot in front of another to begin his assault.