A small bonfire warmed Ethan’s webbed fingers as he sat in the middle of the Triant forest.
Beside him, his companions were settling in for the night. They’d been traveling for three days straight that this point and, now that the moans of their captured bandits had finally ceased, were finally able to catch some shut eye.
“Gotta say,” Tara quipped. “That fog thing was pretty sweet.”
Ethan winked at her with his bulbous eyes – those of the Salamandrike who he was currently piloting.
“Even a demon hat has to have a little fun every now and then.”
“I’m just hoping it didn’t alert some of the villagers,” Fauna whispered beside him, stifling a yawn as she laid down her staff to get some much needed shut-eye.
Her ears twitched as they drooped down her back. But her whiskers were still twitching against their campfire. Ever since they’d set off for Griffon’s Watch, she’d been a little more on edge than usual.
But Ethan allowed himself to focus on his own mind, for once. He enjoyed the simple pleasures of their little makeshift hearth, listening as Klax eagerly dished out some of the bandit’s equipment to the party.
“As per Lord Ethan’s instructions,” the wolfman was saying. “Tara – you get the fat one’s blunderbuss. Ethan’s going to take the arquebus the young one was carrying. And Lamphrey – can you do what…well, whatever it is you do…”
The eyes of the Minxit and Lycae shifted to the newest member of their party – the lizardwoman Lamphrey, who had the slightly disconcerting habit of sleeping with her snake eyes fully open.
“Ah, yes,” she hissed. “It is the proper hour for Dreamwalking, after all. If the Archon will permit me..?”
Klax gave a slightly indignant huff. During the past few weeks of traveling, the lizard-mage had another habit that sometimes got under the wolfman’s skin: she’d look to Ethan before she executed any orders.
Which made sense – he truly felt the mantle of leadership thrust on to his hatty form now. Still, maybe there was a lingering sense of frustration in the old wolfman still…
“Knock yourself out,” Ethan said. “Just don’t chase their nightmares over to our side of the camp, alright?”
Lamphrey bowed, her forged tongue slithering out her mouth in a partial laugh before she rose and wandered over to her victims.
Ethan kept his eyes away from her and her art. She was a useful new member of the team for sure, but it didn’t make the particular brand of magic she practiced any less…disconcerting. Even Fauna shuddered when she went into one of her ‘trances’.
It was called ‘Oneiromancy’ - ‘Dream magic’. As the name implied, it involved creeping into the minds of others and sorting through their subconsciousness. It had far more practical uses than Ethan had initially thought – Lamphrey had managed to find secret routes through the forests that bypassed Greycloak patrols around the Ashfall mountains by looking into the minds of captured warriors they managed to fell on the King’s road. With her help, they’d managed to sneak into the coastal region of Westerweald without much trouble. And now, here they were, at one of the last hamlets before the lush forests of Grenbelm met Argwyll’s Western shore, and the island in the middle of the ocean where the great prison stood.
Tara yawned loudly as she arched her back, licked her front paw, and curled up on her blanket as the night droned on.
“Dunno why…we didn’t just kill those guys…” she murmured.
“Tara,” Fauna whispered, “you never understand why we don’t just kill people…”
“The Archon’s word is sacred, Tara,” Klax said as he began to dose off. “They were designated ‘Noobs’ by him, and thus, they were not truly worth slaying.”
You really had to teach them your funny little earth words, didn’t you?
Ethan grinned wryly as Sys chimed in, loud enough for everyone to hear him. Ever since, Sanctum, he’d been unusually chatty. The team had taken to him as their fifth member – even if he was a voice in their leader’s head.
“Well, since Fauna took so well to the ancient bardic tradition of Lord Astley, I figured I might as well introduce some more earth culture around here.”
The party sat around the camp chatting about such trivial things for a while. It felt nice to have some respite from their quest. Ever since they’d set out from Sanctum three weeks ago, it felt like they’d had nothing to do but march, fight, sneak and sleep whenever they could.
If I’d have just possessed a flying creature by now…Ethan thought. Argwyll’s skies were suspiciously empty.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
I know what you’re thinking, Ethan. But the last of the dragons were slain some time ago by – you guessed it – our good friends the Greycloaks.
Ethan balked, his thick Salamandrike hips filling his every movement with unbridled sass. The question of dragons in Argwyll was something that’d been eating away at him ever since he considered what his next new possession would be.
All of them? Come on Sys – how’d you know one or two of ‘em didn’t hide away somewhere? The stories we have on earth speak of dragons as the most intelligent and ancient of all species around in any fantasy realm.
I…suppose anything’s possible. After what we’ve been through, I don’t think I can be certain of anything anymore.
Though I must once again tell you: this is not some run of the mill fantasy world from the obnoxious little books you’re used to. The rules here are different.
Ethan looked down at his lithe, slippery body and scoffed. That’s for sure…
He had to admit – he missed Valgraiva’s awesome strength. But even this little critter had its charms. For one thing, it gave him the element of surprise. No one was expecting a tiny Salamandrike to boast the kind of stats he had:
[Current Host: Salamandrike {Grass}]
LVL: 55
HP: 250/250
MP: 30/30
WILL: 120/120
STR: 45
PER: 50
SPD: 80
CHA: 15
Speed was the little critter’s forte – and it even came with a [Skitter] skill that he’d upgraded to give him a boost in running speed when he needed it.
[Skitter]
Grade: C
You summon forth a burst of speed that carries you out of harm’s way for a maximum of 15 minutes
SPD increase: +100
[Tactical Withdrawal] unlocked: [Skitter] produces a cloud of dust that {BLINDS} enemies for 20 seconds
Spirit Core Cost to upgrade: 550
A nice little addition to his arsenal for emergencies. He was betting there was a [Mass Skitter] option in his future, and with that they’d make it to the prison in no time. After all, he knew time was of the essence. Old Arty wouldn’t be trapped forever. Not him.
But when he came for them this time, Ethan would be more than ready.
He looked down at the fiery Onixia blade in his slimy hand, watching the embers of the campfire dance along its serrated edge.
Object: [UNIQUE] Longsword: Greybane
DMG: 150 x3 vs enemy type: [Greycloak]
It was a vicious weapon to behold – what Lamphrey had called a ‘cosmos-changing thing’ and a weapon that suited an Archon who was born to kill a God. It was his trump card. His main advantage over all the Archons who had come before. Thinking about the ease with which he’d dispatched all those in his path the last few weeks, he couldn’t help but think that the old trials of the Delves were now long behind him. The surface world of Argwyll didn’t know what had hit it.
And he was only getting stronger. A quick twist of the blade in his hand revealed another little trick he’d recently learned:
Greybane [SPECIAL] property added: (Fade Slice)
A weapon with this property can attack creatures through solid surfaces.
A neat little side effect of his recently upgraded Transmogrification Core Skill was that he could now transfer the special properties of weapons he found onto others. Without any hesitation he’d managed to combine the true power of the Moonlight Katana with his new blade to make something even more powerful – the sword basically doubled as a sci-fi railgun now. Especially when coupled with his newest upgrade to his Spectral Snipe:
Spectral Snipe (Grade B)
Special Synergy unlocked: GUERRILLA
When combining [Hide] with [Spectral Snipe] your first shot is an automatic headshot.
Spirit Core Cost to upgrade: 1500
The cost for both these upgrades had been a staggering 1000 Spirit Cores a piece, but they’d more than made up for the steep price. After all, Carliah – that insane Commander of the Greys – had netted him a cool 3000 thanks to Arty finishing her off. He had the spirit cash to blow, and he wasn’t just stopping there.
As he’d just tested on those hapless ‘patrolmen’, his newest upgrade to Roar was shaping up rather nicely:
Roar (Grade B)
[SHATTER] property unlocked
Roar now {Shatters} any armor of {Phys} Protection <50
Spirit Core Cost to upgrade: 750
This upgrade had cost him 500 smackers, leaving him with 500 cores leftover from Carliah and at least 700 more he’d gathered over the last few weeks. These forests didn’t exactly hold much opportunity for grinding anymore. And time was of the essence.
So now here he sat, hybrid helpers with him, at the very height of his powers, staring down at the first human hamlet he’d ever seen in all the time he’d been here.
And something was beginning to take hold of him. Something that had nothing to do with power at all.
While the rest of the party was snoozing, and Lamphrey was doing…whatever she liked to do to their prisoners, Ethan was staring at the sleepy little hamlet beyond the treeline.
He could see them – the enemy. Humans packing up their things and heading home for the evening. Kids skipping around and dragging their parents into the little market square where, if the senses of a demon hat could be believed, the sounds of a band were starting to rise into the night.
He watched them, suddenly fascinated by the banal goings-on of the town. And before he knew it, he found himself edging towards the edge of the forest.
Ethan, Sys warned. I understand the curiosity in you right now. But we all know what the humans of this world are like. We’ve all seen them, time and time again.
Ethan pondered this for a moment, listening more to his body than his head.
Sure, they’d seen what the Greycloaks could do. They’d seen how the humans enslaved the hybrids of this world, and spat on them as though they were little more than dirt to be trod upon. They’d seen all of that, and more – Tara, Klax, Fauna and probably Lamphrey had all seen what the humans of this world were truly capable of.
But this was just some backwater village on the edge of the world. A tiny town with barely even a guard tower to ward off enemies. He’d never seen one before. He’d never seen it – because he wasn’t supposed to.
Well, screw that.
Ethan…
Don’t sweat it, Sys, he grinned as he snuck away from the camp. This is the perfect opportunity to test out a new little upgrade of mine…