The chittering and cries of the hidden animals filled the surroundings as a group of people trekked along a small forest path in the shade of the towering trees. The clank of boots and the rustle of cloth and leather accompanied every step taken, and once in a while, a dull gleam was seen on the head of one of the humanoid's heads.
All of the four in this party held a sort of weapon. A typical adventuring party, if you somehow overlooked the fact that all of them looked like they were taken out of different time periods of Earth and mashed them together in a group, with clashing senses of fashion and their seemingly unending amounts of talking. A short, somewhat bulky person carried a double-barreled shotgun on their back and wore a leather vest, filled with small pockets containing bits of metal, tools, and other types of small objects. Including shotgun shells. A hammer with a large, rectangular head on the person's side was sheathed in a utilitarian matter, showing that this person was used to fights and ambushes along the trip. He was loud and held a dwarvish brown beard and medium hair as he argued with the rest of his group.
For one female, there was a staff that was mottled with a series of pipes on one end, waving in the air as she tapped the staff onto the ground with the beat of her steps. For some reason that none of the other party members knew, the staff also had a small battery and a speaker on the side. A brass metal plate was placed on top of the pipes, making it look like a steampunk version of a club or a party speaker. No one really knew its use, as the person never fought in battles before. Her short, lean body was covered in a set of light leather armor, leaving nothing exposed to the environment. A curious design to her brown leather belt was her iconic feature - a series of intertwining gears, brass leaves, and a human heart adorned on her waist. On her chest was slapped a white sticker that read "I am Angela". She walked with a maniacal grin as she looked into the forest with her wild blue eyes for a target to shoot at.
A tall, lanky brown-haired individual stood out of the group, looking around the forest in search of whatever he was searching for. A series of thick vials stood out on his body, held in place by straps on his green scaled armor and covering virtually every inch of his body, on his thighs, upper arms, lower arms, chest, abdomen, and even on his calves. Each of the countless vials had different varieties of colors, from a liquid of deep electric blue to a blood-red gel, to shimmering amounts of violet gas. On the young man's shoulders was a leather backpack, with empty vials sticking out. His eyes looked bored as they skimmed across the forest landscape, but contained a sense of quiet urgency. He needed no weapons - his vials of liquids were enough. This did not stop him from joining in the conversation, though, as his face was lit up in excitement while he was talking.
A person in gray, metallic armor led the party as they jabbered their way across the forest. Creases lined his face as he debated with the other group, and a series of light, small scars crisscrossed his face in the light of the sun and in the darkness of the forest shadows. Hints of leather could be seen under the metal armor, but everything except his face was covered. He let out a groan and covered his face.
A common characteristic of these people was their vigilance, their clothing (which was made to be both stylish and practical but fitted only in a city), and their loud talking. At this point, the man in front let out a groan and covered his face.
"Why, oh why, did you want to walk all the way out here? Did you just want to fuck around again, or did we actually have a reason to do so?!" He flung his hands in the air wildly, trying to claw whatever he wanted to claw out of the air.
"Dannerth, of course we have a reason to do so! We gotta shoot some o' them orcs and goblins for dem moneyz!" She tried to imitate a goblin halfway through her last sentence, and everyone, except the angry man, laughed their asses off.
"Dude, of course we have a reason to go out to here!" the man covered in vials said. His eyes glittered in greed. "But not for money, so sorry, Angela." Angela pouted. but everyone ignored it. "Recently, there's been a group of goblins and orcs in the woods. Boss in the adventurer's guild wanted us to investigate why they're not killing each other right now. Even though we're not killing them off, we still get a fair amount of coins off of this quest!"
"Fuck off, Vial Man." The dwarf finally snapped. Everyone except the supposed "Vial Man" now sniggered, to the said person's disappointment. "You can make money by selling off your potions and vials." He jerked his thumb, pointing to everyone else, including himself, but not Vial Man. "We can't. So this time, you're getting nothing."
Vial Man's face got even gloomier. "But my name's Charles..." he muttered. "Why doesn't anyone call me by my real name? Especially you, Gadruk! And stop calling me 'Vial Man'! I hate that name!" He pouted.
Angela sniggered. "Names aren't created by you, stupid. It's by other people. You're 16 only, so you don't know, but keep that in your mind with all the other potion recipes." Even though she had a short stature, she somehow managed to reach up to flick Charles' head.
"Ow!" Charles then held onto the flicked area with tears in his eyes. Everyone laughed once again.
"Baby", muttered Dannerth.
All of a sudden, they heard a rustle in the grass. Too big for a small animal, but too small for a human. "Goblins", hissed Dannerth. "Everybody stay down." The group rushed into the grass on the side of the path and slowly crept up to the noise.
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Five minutes of tension, nervousness, and silence, accompanied with beating hearts and heavy breaths, heavy footsteps, and lots of muttered curses, led them to a small clearing, devoid of any animals in the trees or on the ground. What it did lead to was a large group of orcs and goblins.
Orcs and goblins, although commonly stereotyped, are actually some of the most intelligent and crafty beings, second to dragons (who spend their time hoarding and learning over their long lifespans) and some elves (who also learn a lot during their long lifespan). Orcs are known for their brute strength; goblins for their dexterity and agility. The only drawback would be their bad hearing, which is made up for with their excellent sense of smell. They could smell a scent miles away and track it to its owner. Unfortunately, this stereotype results from their less intelligent and more numerous brethren in the wild. These gray, hulking orcs and small, green, feral goblins wore only a loincloth (or a strip around the chest, too, if they were female) made out of dead prey. Not their skins, but the prey that they would eat later in the day if they were hungry. They wandered about the grass-covered clearing, attracted to something.
The object they were attracted around was a rectangular gray slab of metal, marred and scratched by red dust that coated its sides, except for its top, on which was a reflective surface of dark blue. A pile of red dust laid at its feet. Other than this, its details were unable to be discerned from the distance the party was at.
Now that they finished observing, they needed a plan.
"Dannerth, why don't you cause a distraction? You're the tough guy with all the muscles and armor." Angela joked.
Gadruk chuckled. "Nah, not flashy enough. How about... setting someone on fire?" It was meant as a joke, but for some reason, it caught on. Dannerth, Angela, and Gadruk simultaneously looked at Charles. In Cherles' eyes, it was Satan's face plastered on all of their bodies. He paled.
"Say, Charles..." An evil grin appeared on Dannerth's scarred face. "Where's the flammable liquid you used two days ago?"
Charles stuttered under the aura the three gave out. "Th-The clear gel vial on my chest... Wh-wh-why?"
Without another word, and faster than a blink, Gadruck held onto Charles by the arm, so he wouldn't get away. Dannerth, on the other hand, took the vial from Charles' chest strap and quickly doused his hair with the vial's contents. Taking a cue, Angela grabbed her staff and pointed the metal plate toward Charles' soaked hair, while activating the staff. A spark of lightning erupted, setting Charles' hair aflame.
Horrified, Charles ran out of grass, screaming, while trying desperately to beat out the fire on his head. Still trying to beat out the fire, he ran around in circles in the clearing, in full view of the orcs and goblins.
One minute the orcs and goblins were in the clearing, admiring the new metal structure that appeared in the middle. Although openly hostile to each other (with small skirmishes being common), they all gathered here in peace to enjoy the new metal structure, lazing around the clearing in groups. The next, they heard a zap and a scream, followed by one frantic human wearing strange leather clothes and strange piecces of clear rock, filled with different liquids. Surprisingly enough, the man's head was covered in flames, and he ran around the clearing, trying to beat out the fire on his head. Initially, the orcs and goblins were confused. Their simple brains could not comprehend why such an odd creature was running around. With fire on its head to boot.
But the slight scent of burning meat led all of them to realize what was in front of them: fresh, cooked food. These primitive beings could not make fires of their own, but are smart enough to recognize that cooked food is better than raw food, similar to how monkeys would eat steak when given the choice of eating cooked steak and raw meat. To them, he was easy prey, and not something hard to find, either. Follow the flaming prey. The orcs and goblins, after seeing Charles, started running after him. All they had to do was follow the screaming man with flame in his hair. It was so easy that even the dumbest of these beasts could do it. Gadruk chuckled. "Now there's our distraction."
A scant three minutes later, the green clearing was again devoid of animals. Listening for the orcs and goblins, Dannerth nodded his head. It was clear.
They quickly ran to the metal monument in the clearing, stopping only when they were only a few steps in front of it.
Curious Angela arrived first. She looked at the object carefully. Being the impulsive one of the group, she tapped at it with the butt of the staff. Dannerth and Garduk froze in fear. expecting something to happen. When it didn't do anything, they sighed in relief, but still put up their guard. The three approached warily, with caution. Such objects that laid out in the open had some sort of trap function, or were prisons of horrible abominations, locked away to keep the world from descending into chaos and destruction. The last time such an obvious object was opened it took the entire alliance's armies to kill it, wounding the neighboring country's King and killing off most who fought it, mana users, footsoldiers, or anyone in its path or attention. It left an entire radius of 100 miles near it covered in the blood and entrails of those who went after it, even splattering the nearby cliffs with bits of the dead.
But the lure of an adventurer's curiosity, and the logic behind the casket, kept them pushing forward. For one, even though they were right in front of it, nothing happened. For another, its clear age meant that even if there was a monster inside, it woudl be old and weak. Simply because monsters exist doesn't mean that they won't feel the pains of old age.
The metal object, on closer inspection, was actually closer to a casket than a monument. With exception of the roof, the dented, scratched metal on the outside was coated in some kind of fine red dust that pooled onto the ground. The roof seemed to be created of some sort of dark blue crystal, inlaid with some golden linear lines of metal, and covered in some sort of coating. The roof seemed to be brand new; not a single scratch on its surface could be seen. Facing one end of the clearing was a set of strange double doors, aparrently the only way in or out of the metallic box.
"So, what's the plan?" Gadruk asked to his companions. Both of them shrugged. Dannerth sat down in front of the casket, with Gadruk and Angela following suit.
"Dunno. Guess we wait until Flaming Torch over yonder gets back to us." Angela points to where Charles was last seen. The three chuckled at the new nickname. Boy, oh boy, would that be a new thing to tell to others.