A late morning fog hung over the coastline, the treetops faintly swaying in the wind. As the sun peeked through the clouds, a small, floated ram stepped out of the bushes. Seeing as there weren’t any predators, the ram let out a cry of safety, telling the rest it was okay to come out. On its back, leaves and fist-sized conical fruits rustled as it shook its body, shaking rain and lingering dew off. As other members of the flock came out of hiding, the ram looked around one last time, before it began to nibble on a clump of grass.
The scant moments of grazing were cut short when an unknown figure dropped down on the ram. Feeling a body land on its back, the ram bleated in fear and ran around in a panic. With the flock on alert, the others tried to flee. However, as more figures rose up to surround the herd, the ram let out a panicked bleat before it was flipped on its back. The herd was doomed! DOOOOOMED!!
“Geez, come down, you grumpy old billy,” Troy grumbled, holding the wodenbeast underarm while plucking yellowed fruits off with his free hand. While he was happy not to be fighting massive beasts like he had been expecting, there was something that felt off hunting wodenbeast like this. Was it their almost cartoony appearances? Their childish screams? It made Troy feel more like a schoolyard bully than a licensed hunter.
Once Troy had plucked the last ripe fruit off, he let the wodenbeast go and stepped back. The ram rolled over onto all fours, and Troy swore it gave him the stink-eye, before scampering off to check on its herd. Troy rolled over the number of fruits in his hand, then turned away to walk over to his team. “Well, here’s seven more ‘woden’ fruit for the collection,” he said, holding the fruits out to Yvalyn, “How many more fruits do we need to complete the quest?”
“About thirty more, so we should be good with the next herd,” the elven guildworker responded while she put the fruits in the basket. However, a second glance made her grimace, before removing three fruit from the bin. “However, these can’t be brought along,” she stated, holding them out for viewing before dropping them on the ground, “They’re still unripe.”
“Wait, why not?” Troy asked, picking one back up to look it over, “I thought it wouldn’t hurt to have some that still have bits of green on them.”
“Not for wodenfruit,” Yvalyn explained as she took some fruit from Efficere and dropped them in the basket, “Since wodenfruit is just an extraneous product instead of regular fruit, it doesn’t have the flexibility as most fruit does. So if it’s not fully ripe, it’s just a knot of meat and sap.”
“O-kay then,” Troy drawled, looking at the fruit warily before dropping it, “If they don’t serve any purpose in repopulating, then why are they needed?”
“Oh, they’re super-rich in vitamins!” Telephax chimed in, looking away from the sky to answer, “They don’t taste the best, but they’re perfect for enhancing low-level potions or just creating easy nutritional potions with them.”
“I… see,” Troy reluctantly stated, and looked at the wodenbeasts in disbelief. While he knew that camels had their sacks to help preserve water and nutrients while traveling through the desert, it was surprising that a creature on the coastline had it, too. Maybe it was a forced change, like how basilisks were supposedly made by having a toad hatch a chicken egg?
Before Troy could ask, a raspy screech overhead made him freeze. “Shorerats, incomin’!” Alonz called out, and Troy cursed before he unholstered his rifle. The cry echoed again, before a swarm of ratty light-grey feathers swamped the party. Feeling one sticky feather poke into his mouth, Troy spat in disgust before he pointed up at the sky. Follow the iron sights, track the bird’s path, wait for a moment when they take a sharp turn… There!
A sharp crack of his rifle cut through the air, his shot cutting through what could be best described as a seagull’s larger, more gray-colored, hobo of a cousin. While the shot killed the first bird easily, it sadly meant the rest managed to split apart in several directions.
While Troy tried to track his next target, a slow chant distracted him from focusing. “{Ayim’ro.} {Hlav’ro.} {Hlav’ro.} {Hlav’ro,}” Yvalyn chanted, holding her hands up high. As a hard-light array formed above her, the elf continued, “{Gtu’ro.} {Haum’ro.} {Stik’ro!}” At the final word, the array flared up, and a multitude of silver ropes shot out towards the flock. While some tried to dodge, the ropes turned in the air before binding all their wings together. With the birds literally unable to fly, the birds dropped like flies around the party, either dying on impact or being easy prey for the team.
As Telephax and Alonz worked to finish the birds off, Troy let out a whistle as he glanced over at Yvalyn. “That’s a great shot, but what kind of Skill was that?” he asked, pointing at the fading array, “I thought all skills were tied into actions over words?”
“That’s for skills, not spellcraft,” Yvalyn commented, more focused on counting the number of shorerats than the conversation, only to pause when she processed what she said. “Wait, you’ve never partied with a caster, have you?” the elven assistant asked, pointing at Troy with a raised finger.
“...No, I haven’t done it at all,” he answered, giving her a sideways glance, “Honestly, what I do know about Migarde could barely fill a dinner plate, compared to all the ‘common knowledge’ out there.”
“Right, right,” Yvalyn mused, and glanced around before she finally held up a hand, “In that case, to help simplify it to avoid the college-grade training - Unlike Skills, which are transferred easily, spellcraft is a class of specialized training that ties the flow of mana with the spoken intent of the user’s soul. It takes a lot of practice, but the years of training lets you turn the intended meaning into a manifested effect.”
“I see…” Troy mused as he mulled the words over, “So, rather than enhancing technique with increased power, it makes up for it in variety?” When Yvalyn gave an eager nod, he let out a noise of surprise and tapped his chin eagerly. “You know, if I wasn’t so quick to be protective of Al, I’d give spellcasting a shot,” he admitted, fantasizing the idea of calling down lightning in his mind. He may have some fun skills with controlling rope or jumping over to intercept an attacker, but who would deny wanting to pull off a Dumbledore from time to time?
“Unfortunately, it’s not as simple as that,” Yvalyn admitted, then pointed a finger up to make a sigil appear, “While I do have a notable variety of spells put together, you need to both completely understand your intended spell, in definition and origin, and how to connect it with the rest. If even one word is off, the array will fall apart. As such, since it normally takes months of research to safely comprehend a new word, it’s extremely rare to see gnome or human spellcasters. It normally takes decades to help develop a reasonable repertoire.”
Troy winced at that and looked away in disappointment. “In that case, I’ll shelve it for a later time,” he muttered, glancing towards the trees. Maybe he could save up and do some self-study once he had gotten things better for Alcydes. As he mulled the idea over though, a low thought hit him, and he pulled out his Guild Tag.
“Just out of curiosity, but what kind of stat would be recommended for a ‘young genius’ to get on an accelerated starter’s course?” he asked, playing with the Guild Tag in one hand.
“Mmmm, I believe the last Star Hero who was accepted had a Knowledge stat of 50? Maybe 60?” Yvalyn mused, not really paying attention to his question.
With his question answered, Troy opened his menu before selecting his stats page for the first time in a month:
Troy Ericsen
LVL: 14
BODY
STR: 10 | AGI: 10 | END: 15
HP: 129/135
MP: 117/145
MIND
KNO: 17 | WIT: 15 | CHA: 10
SP: 26
SPIRIT
LCK: 13 | INS: 10 | PRE: 10
Troy hissed through his teeth at the result. “Damn, just seven points shy of reaching that minimum,” he muttered, then looked at the stats more critically. While the desired stat was out of reach, that didn’t mean he couldn’t use his points to help pad his strengths out more. After raising all of his low stats to 13, he raised his Knowledge stat up to 25. Before he used the last three points up though, he paused, then put two into Wit, and one into Agility. It never hurts to help diversify your options, right?
As Troy closed the menu, he soon frowned when he felt something intangible on his neck - Almost like he was being watched. At first glance, he didn’t see anything nearby. But as Troy looked out towards the woven maze of trees, his body stiffened when he spotted a faint movement between several trees. “Hey, there’s supposed to be no-one near us for this, right?” he cautiously asked, his hand coming down to grab his rifle.
“What? No, there aren’t any missions that are meant to take place over here,” Yvalyn stated, and glanced over in concern. However, as she mulled it over, her concern turned more contemplative as she recalled, “Actually, since we’re close to the Southern Marsh, it might be them, but I’d be surprised if they decided to come this far out of their domain.”
Troy looked at Yvayln with confused curiosity at that comment. However, the chance to ask her was cut off when the rustling led to Vitkor poking his head out from the bushes. “If you’re done counting kills, you might want to come over here,” he stated, pointing to something behind him. Unsure of what the oruk meant, Troy walked over in confusion, before a rancid smell hit him like an uppercut.
“Oh god, what the hell is that?” Troy gagged, stumbling forward as the pungent stench grew worse. However, as Yvalyn pushed past him, the lifted branch caused Troy to balk at what Alonz was holding up. Roughly the length of the dwarf’s arm, the rotting animal leg was far past any state of edibility, with mold-matted fur and rancid meat. In fact, if it wasn’t for the skin slouching off to reveal bone and veins, he’d think it was a discarded prop over a real limb. “Jeez, how long has that been sitting out there?” he asked as he pointed at the rotting limb.
Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.
“Dunno,” Alonz muttered, looking it over with mixed disdain before he dropped it on the ground. As the limb fell with a meaty splat, he added, “It’s pretty rotten, but I’m surprised somethin’ managed to drag a whole tusked seawolf arm away from the coast. Must’ve been killed around the last storm or somethin’.”
However, as the elderly dwarf wiped his hands off on a cloth, Vitkor slowly shook his head before pointing towards the coast. “If that was the case, any scavenger would’ve been more careful dragging it back,” he stated, and prodded at a broken tree-branch that barely hung on by its bark. The oruk tapped the strip keeping it connected, before he idly commented, “While a scavenger could easily tear a limb off, what predators would have dragged it all this way?” After a few seconds, he glanced over at Yvalyn and asked, “No, seriously, what is it? I’m familiar with scavenging sharks and swamp turtles, but I never travel out this far. Any ideas from records?”
“Something that’d hunt a tusked seawolf…” Yvalyn mused, rubbing her hands together in worry, “While one could easily tear through a mother vampire eel or an adult gill-gorger, if they’re on land… Well, any of the top predators are able to do it, but all local ones are Metal-Rank or higher.”
As Yvalyn’s words sank in, Troy gulped in apprehension, then looked at the rest of the party. “All in favor of retreating if we run into the predator, say aye,” he stated, holding up a hand in emphasis.
“Aye,” the adventurers said in near unison, not even waiting for him to add any conditions.
When Alcydes didn’t say anything, Troy stared at the young elfkin for several seconds before he finally grumbled, “Aye…”
“The aye’s are unanimous!” Troy proclaimed and clapped his hands together as he spun away from the limbs, “In that case, let’s go hunt down those piggies before we get hunted ourselves.” Despite several murmurs coming from the others, Troy glanced around before he finally turned back to look at the youngest member of the team. “Al, could you show us where they’re normally at?” He asked, pointing behind himself with a thumb, “I know you were hunting them last month.” With a roll of the eyes, the elfkin walked past Troy and carefully passed through the brush, heading towards the setting sun.
As the party walked through the forest, the coastland shrubbery was slowly overgrown by dotted canopies and winding roots. Soon, the sight of aboveground ground was a rare sight, compared to water-root plants and the living maze of mangroves.
Coming to a stop on a fallen trunk, Troy gasped before he looked up at the horizon. “You know, I didn’t think that pigs would be out this far, considering they seem to prefer mud over swimming,” he commented, leaning over while catching his breath.
“Aye, they really are h’arty like that,” Alonz wheezed, sweat dripping down his brow like rivers. However, as the bearded senior wiped the sweat away, the dwarf suddenly stopped before he reached for his bow. “Wait a sec,” the dwarf hissed as he pulled out his bow, “I see a big ‘un over there, right in the shade.” Troy turned to see what the veteran meant, but he couldn’t see it at all…
The question of where was soon answered as Alonz let his shot fly, tearing the larger root on a mangrove to shreds. As splinters flew, a couch-sized pig lurched into view, wailing a death scream before finally falling dead. Troy let out a whistle in respect, surprised that Alonz even saw it, let alone hitting the pig through the eye like that. However, the blast of wood seemed to also sound the alarm when several backpack-sized blurs darted out, scrambling in several directions to escape.
“Package of uncooked pork on the run!” Troy shouted, pulling his gun out before focusing on the ones running away. Thankfully, the mangled roots were just as difficult for the pigs as it was for Troy. As he lined the shot up, the intended boar fell into a tangled knot of roots. The piglet let out a panicked squeal as it spun around, revealing its soft underbelly for him. With the crack of his rifle, Troy let the piglet die on its own as he focused on the next escapee.
Between overwhelming artillery, arcane overkill, and the piercing crack of a rifle, the piglets were quickly hunted down. Even the few that got close were quickly cut down by Vitkor and Alcydes. As the panicked runaways were finally cut down, Troy looked over in disdain before he asked, “This should help cover the rest of them,” he commented, looking at one piglet floating in the water. As he bent over to pick up the floating body, he couldn’t help but ask, “So, do the younger piglets count for the quest bonus?”
“Unfortunately, not,” Yvalyn replied as she looked the kill over, “While the adult marsh boars are valued for the tusks and bones, the babies are only good for their meat. You’d be lucky if they count as a half-bonus each.”
Troy sighed at that, and slipped the piglet into his Storage before he glanced over at the closest corpse floating in the water. “Here’s hoping that means we only need another cluster,” he chimed, and hopped off the mangrove surface to wade over for collection.
As Troy picked the body up though, a sudden chill made him freeze, but not from the temperature. Instead, the sensation of being watched felt several times stronger, almost as if a ravenous lion was hunting down an unaware rabbit. The fact the area was so silent around him didn’t help at all…
Troy’s eyes widened as he realized the critical problem and spun around towards the rest. “Everyone, look out!” he called out, struggling to speed up through the water, “Something has to be near here!” While most of the party was surprised at the comment, Vitkor and Alcydes gave him a look of disbelief, like he was repeating a teacher’s statement to answer the question.
Despite the cry in warning, the call seemed to be the signal to whatever was hiding. As Troy got back on land, a torn, guttural roar ripped through the twisted treeline. With a flailing battlecry, the trees began to shake as the unknown threat drew closer. Birds of several colors flew up in panic at the sound, and Vitkor gave Troy a dirty look before he slid into a battle stance. “I hope you’re looking for a battle with that cry, because it’s coming for us now!” the oruk hissed, then readied his wave-stained spear in preparation. Despite feeling embarrassed at the insult, Troy quickly followed suit by loading his rifle.
The party’s worries were soon rewarded with several dense roots being crushed as a bloated creature finally burst into view. While a part of Troy’s mind couldn’t help but compare the creature to a walrus with its large tusks and bald head, the developed back legs and matted fur gave a clear difference. In fact, it was hard to call it a creature over a body, as the skin slouched off like clothes five sizes too big. With vacant eyes and a leg socket flopping wildly in the water, it was less like a wild animal and more like a-
“Zombie,” Troy hissed under his breath, and pointed his rifle at the creature drawing closer. However, as it crushed a dead piglet in its blind rampage, Troy hesitated, then finally lowered his rifle’s sights. If this walrus-like creature had a hard head like one, he’d be better off smacking golf balls at it then trying to punch through it with a standard-grade rifle.
While Troy worked to switch his rifle out for his spear, the creature seemed to take this as a signal to charge forward even faster. With a cry from Vitkor, the dwarves and Yvalyn fired a round of shots at the undead. However, despite shooting through the body like parchment, the beast didn’t slow down. With a bellow that shook like a car engine through a torn hose, the rotting mammal dropped down in the water, before lunging forward with surprising speed.
“Scatter!” Alonz called out, tossing himself into the water. As the seawolf landed for a second leap, Troy cursed and grabbed Alcydes by the back of his shirt. With the water rushing behind him, Troy barely pulled the kid away before the weight of the undead behemoth crashed down. Thankfully, he managed to scramble away, and stopped on a dry patch as the seawolf flailed in the roots.
“Al, do you think you can cut it down to size?” Troy asked, looking at the elfkin as he checked the boy for any injuries.
Alcydes froze momentarily under Troy’s touch for a second when he touched a bump on his back, but soon wrenched himself free. “Course I can,” he said, and pulled himself free before he crouched down. His hand came down to his short sword, and Alcydes crouched low before he muttered, “[Executioner’s Drop].”
The boy’s body flickered out of Troy’s sight, and the man glanced around before he finally dropped down on the undead beast like a hawk. The rancid sea wolf let out an enraged bellow as the blade sank deep through its shoulder, thrashing about on the splinters, while more shots of mana and projectiles peppered its body. However, with clotted blood and pus oozing out, it seemed like Alcydes would have a better time stabbing a melon through.
With the seawolf distracted, Troy grabbed his spear in both hands and sprinted back over towards the bellowing zombie. Even if it could crush it under him, it didn’t mean he could let it run around freely. Once he got less than ten feet away, Troy spun to stand perpendicular to the beast, then thrusted forward with a battle cry. When the spear easily punched through the seawolf’s face below the eye socket, Troy forcefully declared, “[Barbed Pierce]!”
Upon activation, the skin around the spear distorted from several spikes jutting out from underneath, and Troy twisted it upwards to send tendons, flesh, and scrambled brains all over the splintered ground. With the gaping hole in its face, the seawolf froze in place while Alcydes continued to stab into it. At the pause, Troy grinned in satisfaction. “Piece of cake,” he bragged, deactivating the skill to conserve mana.
However, as Alcydes stabbed into the seawolf’s back again, the growling ghoul suddenly bellowed anew, and slammed into a tree. While Alcydes was quick to jump off, the impact meant his sword was left embedded in the zombie’s back.
Seeing Al land away from the beast, Troy cursed, then turned to look at Yvalyn and Telephax. “Isn’t the head supposed to be where undead are powered by?” he asked them, before scurrying back from the flailing.
“That’s sadly tradition, not certainty!” Telephax shot back, before hurling a woven ball of electricity at the seawolf. As the impacted limb spasmed at the impact, the gnome added, “With a body like that, the core of the spell could be in the gut, the heart, the spine. It could be anywhere in the main body, so we gotta keep blasting until we hit something!”
Troy winced at that revelation and looked at the beast with concern. While the beast was losing momentum, the sheer bulk of it meant they’d likely be stuck attacking it for hours. At least, unless they managed to hit it all at once-!
A bolt of inspiration struck Troy, and he glanced over at the damaged mangrove, then the splintered wood under the undead sea mammal. “Telephax, can you lead it over there?” Troy shouted, pointing past the flailing beast.
“I gotcha, lad!” Telephax shouted, dashing towards the beast at full speed. The gnome’s smaller body moved with surprising speed, and with a faint hop, he smacked the seawolf in the muzzle before leapfrogging over it. With such a visible insult, the seawolf bellowed and lurched around to follow the new pest. While the water was waist deep for Telephax, he managed to stay ahead by leaping from root to root.
As the seawolf neared the desired mangrove, Troy turned to gesture at Alonz. “Alonz, aim for the spot you hit, give it all you’ve got!” he shouted, then sprinted to follow after the ghoul.
“A please would’ve been nice…” the elderly dwarf grumbled, but pulled his bowstring back as he readied his shot.
With the seawolf wading through the water after Telephax, Troy easily caught up with the beast. When the zombie got under the mangrove, Troy pulled his spear back and stabbed down at it with fervor. “[Tack Anchor]!” he shouted before the spear sank through the animated flesh. With a flash of light, the blow sank deep, pinning the seawolf in place.
After a failed lunge forward, the seawolf realized its problem and turned to roar at Troy. Before the beast could turn around though, an explosion of wood cut off the rest of its roar. While a spray of splinters and fragments of wood showered Troy, the loud groan of creaking timber filled Troy’s hearing just before the mangrove finally fell atop the beast with a devastating crash.
Despite being sprayed in splinters, guts and swamp water, Troy let out a sigh at the certain impact and pulled his spear out. Seeing no further movement from the body, Troy glanced over the mangrove in confirmation before he slumped in relief. “Thank fuck that’s all over,” he grumbled, and began to poke the seawolf with the soft end of his spear in curiosity. “So, are undead like a rare mold or something?”
“I’m ‘fraid that you’re thinking of them a bit too normally,” Telephax groused as he landed on the fallen mangrove. As the gnome checked the body over, he added, “Granted, there are some guilds that partner with butchers to let adventurers test their might on undead bodies for tender cuts. However, a decayed body like this, especially after weeks of decay to get this bad…” As he pulled Alcydes’s sword out, Telephax declared, “Even if it’s a parasite taking control, it’s definitely not a good sign.”
Troy winced at that, and twisted the grip on his spear as he thought it over. “When you put it like that, it is a real pain,” he muttered, then looked around as the gnome worked to seal the crushed seawolf in a crystal borrowed from Yvalyn. While the sounds of nature were returning, it was definitely a sign of wildlife coming back to the immediate area. However, it was likely that any wodenbeast had already fled. “So, where should we go next?” he asked, straightening up to look for any chance of one.
“Sorry, Troy, but we’ll have to put your ‘challenge’ on hold,” Yvalyn said as she took the used crystal from Telephax. As she held the crystal up for light, she continued, “If there are rogue undead like this one running about, the guild has to be informed right away. If a necromancy cult sets up shop, they’re tougher than rats to get rid of.”
Troy sighed at the comment, but a glare from Yvalyn promised him that any disagreement would result in heavy ‘sanctions’. So, after storing his spear away, Troy trudged back onto dry land. Even if the ‘challenge’ was over, he at least got his mandatory five quests over with for the guild. Besides, he now had a bigger question that needed answering…
Namely, why the knot on Alcydes’s back felt less like a scar, and more like a chain’s broken clasp.