A constant low growl came from somewhere deeper into the cave. It rose and fell, but never fully stopped. The cave walls were damp and tall, much taller than the goblin caves. He could hardly see the ceiling.
“Let me lead,” Artivan said. He let his winged sword hang inches above the ground, but kept his shield raised. “This is one of the places the mender could ambush us. It becomes narrow ahead.”
“Would that mean she killed the ogres?”
“Likely, yes. There is also the possibility they took the quest and allied themselves with the ogres. While I believe it’s unlikely, it is possible.”
“I would think she would just kill all the hobgoblins and ogres.” Owin couldn’t imagine Nikoletta spending time talking to any of the mobs that weren't humans. She was entirely set on killing him because he was a goblin. With how aggressive hobgoblins already were . . .
“We can hear an ogre ahead. She is either hiding and listening to us now, or the ogres have respawned, assuming she fought them.” Artivan inched forward and flashed taupe. “I’m only detecting ogres. Stay ready.”
Owin could see well enough in the dark cave, but there were corners and coves that were completely hidden in shadows. Even his eyes, accustomed to the dark, couldn’t see inside. They passed between two stalagmites that stood like columns on either side of a gate.
A massive creature stood just to the side of the gate. Even Artivan didn’t notice as the ogre stood surprisingly still. It was watching as something green ran in a rivulet along the ceiling and down a stalactite.
Long, bristle-like hair hung from the back of its head, leaving the top a smooth patch of gray skin. Its eyes were small, beady things that could hardly be seen from so far away. It had no nose, which explained the overwhelming stench.
“Artivan,” Owin whispered, smacking the knight in the leg.
Artivan turned and looked up at the same time as the ogre noticed them and looked down at Artivan. “Oh, fri—”
“Hobgoblins?” the ogre asked in a deep rumbling voice.
Great Forest Mob
Forblig
Ogre
Level 22
“Forblig, is that you?” Artivan asked, quickly composing himself.
The ogre lowered its head. “Friends?”
“You don’t remember me?”
Forblig lowered himself farther, using his oversized arms to lean forward. The ogre’s mouth had no lips and hung open as it breathed heavily, exhaling warm, fragrant air right into Owin’s face. “No.”
Artivan tugged on his shield's straps. “I’m out of ideas.”
“You didn’t do anything!” Owin looked around desperately as the ogre exhaled another stream of rancid air. Another ogre loitered in the back, barely visible in the darkness.
“I stopped him from attacking us immediately.” Artivan flashed white. “Run around and try to get the other one. I’ll handle Forblig.”
“How do you know they’re going to attack?” Owin looked back at Forblig as something cracked. The ogre was standing fully upright, breaking a stalactite off the ceiling. The ogre licked the bright green liquid from the stalactite, then turned its beady eyes back to them.
“Run,” Artivan said.
The air sounded as if it exploded as the ogre swung the stone club right onto Artivan’s shield. Owin ran right between the ogres legs while pieces of rock exploded through the cave, pinging off every surface. A few points of health ticked down as pieces of the stalactite bounced off the back of Owin’s head. While it did damage, he was barely able to feel it with his current constitution.
Artivan’s winged blade flashed blue and lit up the cave like daytime for a brief second before a horrible cry escaped Forblig. Owin turned to see the ogre wobble before the top half fell to the ground. Its legs remained where they were, spurting a geyser of blood into the air. Artivan took a step back as blood splashed on the cave floor.
The other ogre lumbered closer. Green liquid dripped from its mouth and sizzled when it landed on stone.
Great Forest Mob
Borflig
Ogre
Level 21
Borflig roared, causing bits of stone to rain from the ceiling. The ogre looked almost identical to the last. He was at least ten feet tall, if not taller. Artivan had made killing the ogre look simple with his sword’s technique. Owin had nothing like that. Nothing even close. The best he could do was to charge up the Thunderstrike Maul, but that would take time that he didn’t have.
“I didn’t think we were just going to start fighting them!”
“Once I knew the other humans weren’t here, I blanked. I apologize.”
Borflig roared again as he lunged forward, smashing his oversized fists into the ground. He was still a dozen feet from Owin, but one more lunge would easily put them face to face, or as much as they could be face to face with the height difference.
“What do I do?” Owin asked.
“Most of your opponents will be bigger than you. These ogres are going to be far from the biggest you’ll see if you plan to collect the shards. Use this opportunity to learn how to fight a giant.”
Borflig launched himself forward, low to the ground. Owin tried to dive out of the way, but the ogre’s foot caught him and dragged him along the stone floor. The red of his health bar slid down as Owin came to a stop directly under the massive ogre.
“Get up!” Artivan was close enough to assist if he wanted, but the knight made no move to get involved.
Owin used the weight of the hammer to throw himself back to his feet. He twisted and swung the hammer, smashing it right into the ogre’s shin. The head of the hammer lit up for the briefest moment before it was stopped by the stone-like skin of the ogre.
5% Charge
There wasn’t going to be enough time in this fight to charge the hammer. The ogre was too fast and too strong to play around. Borflig punched down, right where Owin was standing. Luckily, he had anticipated the attack and leapt between the ogre’s legs, leaving the hammer on the ground.
He landed on the stone floor and skidded a foot before jumping with all his strength. It turned out his strength really had grown a lot. A ten foot jump wasn’t anything difficult, though Owin hadn’t practiced jumping vertically and crashed right into the cave ceiling.
Borflig grabbed Owin in the air and smashed him into the ground. The wind left Owin’s lungs as he bounced off the ground, his health bar plummeting. Everything hurt as if his body was entirely engulfed in flames. Owin jumped to his feet, just in time to see the ogre’s fist flying right at him.
Artivan pointed his finger right at Owin, forming a shield just as the fist made contact. The shield exploded immediately, but it had stopped the momentum of the ogre’s attack.
“I’m out of mana! It’s on you now,” Artivan shouted.
Owin smashed a health potion against the side of his head as he jumped. His health bar shot up just as he crashed against the ogre’s shoulder. Borflig thrashed as Owin jammed Naxile’s knife into the thick skin of his shoulder. An ogre’s skin might have been as strong as stone, but Owin didn’t care. His strength was greater, and soon he would be able to cleave a monster in half just like Artivan.
Borflig stopped his thrashing and tried to reach Owin with his long arm. Owin yanked the knife out, spraying blood over the ogre’s gray skin. He carefully jumped from the shoulder to the ogre’s head, grabbing onto the bristle-like hair. Borflig missed Owin and instead waved his arm wildly in the air while blood flowed freely over Borflig’s thick skin.
“Aim for the eye,” Artivan shouted.
Owin jammed the knife into its head, where the metal grated against bone. It didn’t puncture the skull, but let Owin use the knife as an anchor as he swung himself over top of the ogre’s head. He slipped in front of Borflig’s face and stabbed for an eye, but the ogre caught him mid air.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
“Why?” Borflig asked. His hot, rancid breath assaulted Owin. The ogre held him tightly in his fist, pinning Owin’s arms to his side. His legs were free, but kicking them did little good.
“The hobgoblins asked us to kill you.”
A scowl twisted the ogre’s lipless mouth. “Why?”
“Oh.” Owin squirmed and tried to find Artivan, who was somewhere on the other side of the ogre, far from view as the giant gray monster blocked most of Owin’s current view. Borflig lifted him until they were eye to eye, inches from one another. “They don’t like you.”
“I don’t like them,” Borflig said.
A light appeared above Borflig’s head. Owin used Examine and opened his index, flipping straight to the journal as words started to appear.
New Quest
Annihilate the Hobgoblins
Reward: Artisan Item
Note: Check the Journal for more information
‘Get revenge for Forblig. Kill the hobgoblins.’
“Artivan,” Owin said.
The knight calmly walked around the ogre and looked up at the two of them. “Yeah?”
“I got a new quest.”
“Me too.” His index flashed in front of his eyes as he looked through different pages. “Oddly, it kept both quests. I’ve never heard of someone doing both.”
“Can we do both?”
Artivan shrugged. “We can try. Do you want to kill the hobgoblins?”
“Yes,” Borflig said.
“We know you do. I was asking my friend,” Artivan said.
Borflig set Owin on the ground and wiped his hand on his ragged trousers as if Owin had been covered in some filth. Blood dripped down the ogre’s head and shoulder, leaving small dark streams all over his skin.
If the dungeon was going to let him get two different buff potions, he was going to take the opportunity. Plus, there was more loot within the hobgoblin town than there appeared to be within the ogres’ cave.
“You’ve done this floor without a quest before?” Owin asked. “When you could have done a quest and done the same thing?”
“I didn’t know.” He looked up at Borflig. “I suppose it’s good that he’s not following our conversation.”
Borflig touched the wound on his head, splattering blood as he tapped his fingers on it. “Ow.” He took a few lumbering steps deeper into the cave. “Follow.”
Artivan grabbed the Thunderstrike Maul and handed it to Owin. “Are you healthy?”
“Mostly. How did you run out of mana?”
Artivan waved dismissively. “Where do you think he’s going?”
Borflig rounded a curve and stopped. He looked back with his beady eyes and stood patiently. Owin gently swung the hammer back and forth, letting the hammer’s head glow softly as the charge ticked up slowly. Artivan kept back a few paces, letting Owin lead. He was the one who accepted the quest, after all.
What bothered Owin was how fast Artivan had killed the other ogre, then was out of the fight. Against something so big, the knight had no way to contribute without mana. Owin had his jumping attacks and his speed to assist him, while Artivan had the ability to take hits, and that was mostly it.
He had used the last of his mana to protect Owin, which was useful. It wasn’t as if Artivan wanted Owin to die to the ogre. The knight had already saved Owin several times. From Nikoletta, from drowning, from the ogre.
“Are you healthy?” Owin asked, repeating the same question Artivan had asked him.
Artivan lifted his visor. His eyes were darker than before. Sweat beaded his brow. “I’m good.”
Borflig stood before a curtain of acid that ran from the ceiling, collected in a stream, and flowed into a bright green pool to the side. The ogre gestured, sticking his arm right through the curtain of acid. “Secret passage.”
Owin had to really focus to see through the brief gaps of acid. Part of a stone building lay beyond. “That will burn us,” Owin said.
Borflig extended both arms and dipped his head, creating an odd passage through the acid as it flowed over his long hair and back. Owin hurried through while Artivan was a little more hesitant, keeping an eye on the ogre the entire time.
Owin found another ogre sitting nearby, beside an entire section of a building somehow built into the cave, or more like the cave had formed around part of a building. A cheap wooden door hung loose on hinges, leading inside. The third ogre sat right by the door, far too big to ever pass through.
Great Forest Mob
Florflig
Ogre
Level 18
“Has that always been there?” Owin asked.
“Florflig? Yes.” Borflig stepped through the acid curtain, licking the extra acid off his skin. “She is sister.”
Florflig was napping, unaware that one of her siblings was killed. It almost seemed like even Borflig hardly realized his brother had been killed. Or that he was still bleeding pretty seriously.
“Where does that lead?” Artivan asked.
“Hobgoblins.”
“A shortcut,” Artivan said. “Great.”
Owin spun a few times, keeping his entire focus on the grip of his hammer. With a solid spin, he could charge it rather quickly.
The thoughts that currently ran through his mind were wild. Insane, even. He had just agreed to help the ogres, not even minutes ago, and now he was charging up a hammer to kill one of the two.
If he hadn’t agreed to the quest, Borflig would have crushed him or squashed him, or maybe thrown him into the pool of acid. But now he had a chance to get two artisan items, and that was too good of an opportunity to pass up.
They would respawn. There was no harm in killing mobs.
“It’s okay to do this, right?” Owin asked.
“Agree to help, then kill them?” Artivan chuckled. “In the dungeon, yes. Outside, no. That’s what would make someone a villain. But in here, we do what works best for us. The number one priority inside any of the seven dungeons is survival. What will help you survive? Artisan items will help.”
“What are you going to get?”
Artivan lowered his visor. “I’m not certain. We can discuss it later. Are you thinking about a certain attribute?”
“If I can get two, I’ll do constitution and strength.”
“Spoken like a berserker.” He looked at the now brightly glowing head of the hammer. “So, I get the sleeping one and you get the one standing over us?”
“That’s what I was thinking.” It did seem easiest. Artivan would be able to get a killing blow on Florflig before she even woke up while Borflig was the bigger, more immediate threat. A hit anywhere with a fully charged hammer would be enough to kill, or nearly kill, the ogre.
“This is all your quest.” He checked his sword and strode over to Florflig.
Borflig stood nearby, watching without any idea what was going on. Owin held the hammer in both hands. A strong swing to the leg would fully destroy it, but that wouldn’t necessarily result in a killing blow, and Owin didn’t need a one-legged ogre thrashing around. The attack would need to be around his heart or head, which would require a semi-coordinated jump.
“Do you think I—”
“I think you can do just about anything, Owin.” Artivan grunted and climbed a rock beside the sleeping ogre. “This does feel a little odd. I’ll go once you attack.”
“Is it odd that he stopped attacking so quickly?” Owin asked. The glow of the Thunderstrike Maul was blinding right beside Owin’s face. He wondered what would happen if he accidentally tapped it against his cheek.
“No, actually. Ogres are indecisive creatures. You only need a hint at an idea for them to follow along.”
“Kill hobgoblins,” Borflig said.
“Yes. We will.” Artivan held his winged sword, ready to strike the sleeping ogre.
“What about the hobgoblins?”
“They’re so aggressive, they will be thrilled to fight us. Best hurry before all this talking wakes this one.”
Owin stood right in front of Borflig, who watched him with interest. Beady eyes tracked each movement as Owin took a few steps back and readjusted his grip on the hammer. “Ready?” he asked.
Borflig nodded. He didn’t know what was happening.
Owin took two steps and pushed off with all his strength. He was off balance, but managed to swing the hammer regardless, hitting Borflig in the chest. The explosive power of the Thunderstrike Maul obliterated the ogre’s torso, peeling flesh and shattering bone. It didn’t fully pulverize the creature like it had with the scaltari. Instead, it launched the massive heart of the ogre out the back, where it bounced, squelched on the stone, and rolled against the cave wall.
Owin crashed into the viscera that was left behind. He bounced off one of Borflig’s ribs and landed on top of the ogre’s stomach, which glowed green and bubbled beneath him. The pungent smell was something far beyond the horrific breath the ogre had shared earlier. It was overwhelming immediately.
Borflig’s corpse wobbled and collapsed face down before Owin had a chance to leave the body. Blood spurted out the back where Owin was forced to crawl through, dragging the heavy hammer the whole way.
He splatted on the stone with ogre gore dripping from everything. His hammer left a red trail as he dragged it toward Artivan, who stood confidently next to the dead ogre sister. She hadn’t moved at all. One precise stab through the eye had been enough, as Artivan had said before they ever entered the cave.
“Your methods are effective, but . . .” Artivan sheathed his winged blade. “I don’t know if it’s really the best way to fight.”
Owin sighed. He set the hammer down and pulled a string of something red and squishy from his arm. “How do I constantly end up covered in blood?”
“Diving head first into an ogre’s torso will do that. I am impressed that you managed to kill a creature as powerful as an ogre by removing the heart. Not destroying it.” Artivan chuckled softly. “An alchemist would murder someone for a full ogre heart like that, but there is no way we can carry something so huge.”
Owin shook his head, throwing bits of blood and guts from his hair, which was currently plastered down. Ogre blood dripped from the ends of his pointy ears.
Quest Complete
Choose Your Reward
Artisan Item
Another list of items appeared before Owin. There were plenty of fascinating options, but he wasted no time. An orange potion appeared in his hands. Owin drank it and shoved the empty glass bottle into his bag.
Strength +30
Strength: 216
“Was it worth it?” Artivan asked.
Owin picked up the hammer, surprised at just how much lighter it felt. His balance and general dexterity were still horrendous, but the actual weight was now manageable. Just like that. It was so simple. Nothing looked different. He just changed so easily.
He tossed the Thunderstrike Maul into the air and tried catching it with one hand, but fumbled. The heavy hammer crashed onto the stone cave floor. “Yes.”
“Maybe a dexterity buff would have been the better choice.” Artivan reached over and turned the handle of the wooden door. It creaked and fell off its hinges from the slightest touch. When it fell, dust erupted into the air like a cloud.
“What did you get from the quest?”
“We’ll talk about it later.” Artivan peeked his head into the room. “A crypt.”
“A hobgoblin crypt?”
“No. They just toss corpses to the side. It’s likely undead. As long as they’re decayed, we’ll be fine.” Artivan rolled his shoulders. “Be ready. Be careful.” Artivan tapped the Thunderstrike Maul with an armored finger. “A knife might be better for closer quarters.”
Owin let the hammer rest on his shoulder in his right hand, while he grabbed Naxile’s knife with his left. “I’ll be ready for anything.”