It was a rowdy, cloudy evening yet light enough with an eerie, yellow moon shining down. Once the cooking was done with, the hearths eventually dimmed.
Sträng was apparently the leader of the shamans, a Class of Goblin who wielded a strange, communal magic for the Goblin tribes. His apprentices were characterized by their bright yellow caps, which made the green-skinned Goblins look like flowers sprouting.
Lila quietly explained the purpose of the ritual circle, as the rest of the Goblins began gathering around, taking direct cues from their paunchy leaders.
Sträng made one final lap, then looked satisfied. “Finished. On an auspicious night, as the moon stands available to heed our call. The signal will damn near power itself now, when we push it through; focus only on your great hunger being satiated, then having saved this delicious bolass head stands a good chance of bringing us the attention of very welcome allies. The promise of a share in the orchard and a place to call home, oughta do the rest.”
Damon was intrigued. Apparently this was their last ditch preparation, a call for aid which may well go unanswered, but also which just might help tip the scales in their favor even further. Are they bringing in a rival tribe? I seriously doubt it’s that, but then what?
When Damon went over the possibilities in his head, the list just went on and on, so he decided to settle in and wait.
Sträng walked a lap around the circle, studying the work of his disciples and appearing to be holding out his rattling staff in order to feel the energies of different nodes, because he clearly wasn’t studying the actual pattern they’d drawn—his eyes were closed.
One among the disciples was sweating like a faucet, clearly falling apart over the incoming scrutiny of his section, but the lap passed without incident. Sträng finished by walking back and giving the pupils their due with a proud nod, before he turned to his fellow seniors and rolled his eyes, making some in the crowd titter—causing the youngest yellow caps who noticed to look over worriedly.
Damon was enjoying himself.
Then there was a sudden sussuration, the tension building in the air, when Sträng suddenly raised his staff high, signaling for his son Pipan to start a keening background noise for ambience, before the old shaman hollered a tribal tattoo into the wide plains, blasting across the ritual pattern. “Bolass prince freshly burdened with the blackest sin, slain in the suitable fashion; sooner than later. As requested in ages past and provided plenty a time before, we provide yet again. Indulge us, should your vicissitudes allow. Come through, and share in an opportunity most rare. A copse has been explored in your name, we have but to secure it from a shadowy fiend,” The old Goblin assured.
Then slammed the spongy staff’s tip down with finality, at the very edge of the circle; the strike sending a pulse of green energy spreading through the vast, wantonly patterned web of ritual runes. When the energy reached the spiked head, which had been carefully set up in the middle, the ritual's energies highlighted the head of the giant rodent from every angle, beams of energy firing from multiple locus along the outer circle—slowly causing a brightly colored signal smoke to rise. This was no ordinary smoke, but clearly intensely magical, colored a neon green, while not at all proportional to any disintegration of the smoking head. Instead of drifting with the wind, the plume only reached to a height of about twenty meters, before it suddenly lurched off in a very pointed direction; clearly aimed at one target in particular.
Lila turned to Damon and gave him a nod to come along, then went to settle down in what looked like a lawn chair, one that had clearly been prepared for the occasion.
“Now we wait.”
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Before they too settled down, Damon and Billy conducted their own evening ritual in the open air for once, and pointedly ignored a lot of possessions changing hands behind their backs, as bets were settled at the source of the nightly noises being revealed.
Blåberry lost out big time, apparently. Hah, serves her right.
They’d both fallen asleep by the time the Goblins started cheering in excitement, what must have been hours later considering how every cloud in the sky was now gone from up above.
As Damon cleared the goop from his eye, he was met with the nightmarish sight of some furry creatures crawling all over the bolass’ head, slowly but surely scavenging every strip of meat off of the huge skull. The scene was highlighted by a very enlarged moon standing high in the sky and beaming down on some truly cursed-looking rodents.
The same curse that got pinocchio, specifically.
[Lunar Coatimundi - Level 42—??]
Damon tried identifying several, but could only tell the levels of a few of the kids.
The Goblin leadership all went up to greet them and explain the situation, once they were finished dining. Meanwhile Damon watched on, simply fascinated.
The creatures were white as snow, but had green eyes and very long snouts. They were about twice the size of the goblins, except they walked on all fours and had some rather impressive claws on their two front legs. Oh, so, I guess the tribe’s getting mounts?
Indeed, after a brief discussion and a giftswap where the goblins seemed to come out with the shorter end of the stick—considering the coatis got snacks and only licked the goblins in return for a bit; the two groups started partnering up, some seemingly pairing with old, familiar hands, while others were looking over the choices available quite carefully, picking a first mate only after a great deal of consideration.
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Quite a few among the younger Goblins were acting sort of nervous, and clearly not everybody would be getting the chance to take on the orchard arachnids while mounted. The coatis were running out quick, but a few bolder ones walked right up to to sniff playfully at Damon, before Billy bleated a half-roar and made it clear that the big one was taken. I bet a few are already System bonded, the pink caps seem like they've actually got a Class for it? Then this can’t be their first time cooperating, then why the need for a summons?
A commotion started up behind them suddenly, and Damon looked over to see Berry get caught up in what sounded like a blunder. Curious, he walked over for a closer look.
Blåberry was clambered on top of a coati’s forehead, where a different Goblin was already mounted, but it seemed that the coati was picking one of the pink caps over the little, loud one.
Only when Damon got closer did he see how that wasn’t even the issue, rather Berry was complaining about a different, younger coati who was shuffling off, looking disappointed. “Why did you push my little one away, it was clearly feeling the vibes, what’s your problem?”
Lila had also followed Damon and stepped in to defend the coati rider, mounted on top of her own scarred and buff senior coati; the Redcap wasted no time, and butted in immediately. “I've already told them you’re prohibited, since you’ve officially got a mount who’s rejected you already. You will need to keep pace on your own tomorrow, if you can’t find a proper ride.” When Berry looked about to explode, Lila added on. “You don’t get several options just because of your Class, you’ve got too many grave mistakes left to make amends for.”
Berry still looked outraged. “My brother will bring me then!”
“He’s going with the children. You know very well how he needs another level before joining in the attack, at the very least.”
"He can do it, you always, always underestimate us. We're better off than plenty of others!" She was still hanging on to the reins, holding on to a fading hope. “Just let me charm a mount you tall-folk dolt, I’ve done nothing but bring you ringing victories!”
What followed was a recounting of every event where Berry had been tangentially involved, angled just so, to put them all in a light where her contributions clearly tipped the scales.
It was useless, like blindly throwing pennies at a wall that the neighborhood kids convinced you was a strange-sounding well.
“The answer is no Blå, you’ll need to find a different way to keep pace. You already stole and used all of Läker’s habaneros without asking, even if she won’t bring it up because of the bark you’ve brought her. Those could have served us well right now.”
Berry glared at her Redcap, then snorted. “You’re the one who taught me how it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission, as long as you win the fight, right?”
But Lila was already riding off. “Hah. That doesn’t mean you get off scot-free. Amends, Blå! Make amends!”
And then she rode off, with Berry left looking envious, and pointedly ignoring Damon who was still curiously watching from atop of Billy.
She had in fact used up every last one of the villages explosive habaneros, all to keep Damon’s back clear for as long as she could. He saw how that may have been more of a sacrifice than he’d realized at the time, even if Läker was apparently in a forgiving mood after the impressive haul they'd brought in.
Damon had been given most of the credit in the end, since Berry had to trick and cheat her way to securing the lot and with Damon being on the verge of breaking off relations with the tribe as a result; or even dying. He'd come close, even if it meant losing his only friends out here. He still had the Alluvial cave to go back to, and Billy. He would have just needed to make sure to bring Ken’s body along with him, and then find some other place besides the underground orchard where he suspected a Vigor draught might be found.
But, they had sided with him against one of their own in the end. Even if it was mostly symbolic, it wasn’t like he’d expected them to kick her out of the tribe, and Damon knew they still needed Berry for the fight tomorrow—even if she’d be missing one of her most useful tools, being all out of those habaneros. The fact remained how she could still provide a tremendous boost to Damon’s fighting style, not to mention a resourcefulness that few could match. All of that would surely come to use, even if Damon had a feeling that their minds might get put to the test more than anything else tomorrow.
Damon decided then, that even if fighting together again was too much for now, he could at least bring her along to help in the battle.
“You can ride with us.”
Blåberry watched him carefully to make sure he was serious, then only nodded before jumping down and running off.
Damon could tell she was excited, and frankly, so was he.
While him and Billy went to sleep, Damon's thoughts raced through hopes and dreams towards the orchard most likely to be hiding his first opportunity to revive one of his friends.
More than one part also hoped that tomorrow would allow him to find an enemy capable of bringing him up to, and even past his current brink.
In search of hidden potential.