“I’m not a pack mule!” Cried Satharis.
“Hush you big lizard! Hey! Don’t you flap those wings at me. What part of ‘I’m teleporting you, hold still’ do you not understand?” Shouted Tantalus.
Dorian’s militia nearly fainted at the sound of someone behind them bickering with a dragon. All too aware of their position between the combative parties. One nervous man poked the dragon his his spear, the worn tip blunting against the azure scales.
“I was busy! Still am…” Grumbled Satharis.
Silent confusion spread through the humans. A soft psst noise echoed through the atrium, so soft it would have evaded detection if not for the absolute silence. A chuckle escaped Konrad’s lips. Immediately shifting Satharis’ focus onto himself. Luminous eyes threatened the human with death and the psst sound grew louder.
Konrad threw an arm over his face.
“Don’t look at me like that or I'll join you!” Threatened Konrad.
At his jab Kendra, Nara, and Tantalus lost their composure. Full on laughter spread through them, unable to contain their mirth at the absurdity of teleporting dragon mid stream.
Dorian’s militia dared not move, shivering in their line as laughter haunted them from behind. The pungent scent of urea assaulted their noses, strong enough to make their eyes water and one man gag.
It was too much for the raw recruits, they turned tail and ran, slipping on the gold coins in a frenzy to escape the dragon. Dorian let them go. They had already endured more than he expected from them. After all, they had been homeless farmers less than a week ago. Fighting a dragon required expertise, bravery, and faith in the brothers at their side. Three things they could not requisition from the Militia’s quartermaster.
Satharis finished his whiz, sighing deeply as the laughter faded.
“What’s all the fuss about? Don’t act like you piss rainbows.” Mumbled Satharis.
He folded his wings, brushing past Dorian with a clumsy gait brought on by his prodigious growth spurt. His front leg bashed the man aside, sending him sprawling on the marble floor.
“Oops. Humans are so squishable.” Apologized Satharis.
Rolling with the blow Dorian found his feet, narrowly avoiding the steaming river. He tip toed around it, narrowly missing the piddle puddle.
“Thought dragons were supposed to be graceful creatures with inhuman intellect. All I see is a clumsy lizard spitting piss jokes.” Grumbled Dorian.
Satharis slowed his advance, coming to a stop in front of Hattie. He lowered his wing until it was a foot off the ground and bent his front leg so his knee was a foot above his wing. An unmistakable invitation for the young oracle to mount him.
Hattie took a step back, eyes going wide at his offer. Nara stopped her retreat with a hand on the small of her back.
“I have my own training to conduct. Get on, or run home to mommy.” Taunted Satharis.
Hattie’s jaw clenched shut. She stomped forward, purposefully hopping with all her weight onto the dragon’s wingtip. He narrowed his eyes, locking his jaw shut to avoid an accidental breath of fire.
While he felt no pain, he understood her rude intent. A slight that the dragon would have killed any other mortal for, but this was Hattie, his seeress of victory. Don’t incinerate the humans, kill the Leviathan first. He though, exuding his killing intent.
Maybe it was her divine foresight talent, or maybe it was the growing flame in Satharis’ maw, either way Hattie was far more gentle when she stepped onto his knee and back. Nara followed her like a splendid shadow, slipping into place behind Hattie.
Satharis raised his wing, blocking further passengers. These mortals were tools. Nothing more than a means to the Leviathan’s end. He raised his wings halfway and folded the rear membranes together. Forming a protective enclosure around the two tools.
Satharis twisted his head, looking at the three others who had accompanied the tools.
“Follow me, and do not fall behind.” He warned, trotting into the darkness.
Kendra held a glow stone above her head and chased after the dragon, with Konrad hot on her heels. Dorian waffled with indecision.
“Sure, let's just ride the piss dragon all the way to goblin town. No way this could go wrong.” He murmured to himself.
As Kendra’s light faded the dungeon doors began to close behind him, somehow grinding shut despite the logs propping them open. Wood cracked and splintered, threatening to impale Dorian as they bowed inward. Dorian snagged a few gold coins, slipping them into his pockets as he sprinted after his fellows. He would have preferred a magic weapon, a javelin that returned after a throw or a flaming sword would be perfect for his plans, but gold could achieve his ends just as well.
He soon caught up to the party. They were making excellent progress through the dungeon, largely due to Tantalus’ remodeling. What had once been a sprawling maze of ninety degree angles and dead ends was now a highway into the dungeon’s interior, its main passageways were expanded, guiding travelers through the maze of narrow offshoots and dead ends. Intervening walls that used to create dead ends had been deleted, and most welcoming of all, small white glow stones had been added along the main passage. Their white light complimented the marble perfectly. Bouncing off the walls and floors, making the maze glow with a warm light that made the adventurers forget they were inside a mountain, buried beneath metric tons of rock.
Dorian fell into line with Konrad and Kendra. Satharis’ leading the way through the marble maze and into a far narrower round tunnel. The dragon’s new size constrained his movements, forcing him to lower his head and slither through the air. His legs stepping in tune with his undulations.
Satharis’ tail scraped against the worm tunnel’s ceiling, sparks flashing into life as his scales ignited a flimsy vein of iron. Their fires burned for an instant, dazzling the trio of humans. A startled Konrad raised his shield, stepping in front of Kendra on instinct.
Kendra wore her own plate armor, an expensive half-suit of plate that had been custom ordered for her alone. Its plates were thin and light, covering most of her body while still allowing for excellent mobility. Leaving her hands free to cast spells or carry a shield, whichever suited the party’s needs or imminent danger. As the guild’s head diviner she was an asset to be treasured and protected, not a frontline combatant who needed heavier armor with double overlapping plates like Konrad’s armor.
Kendra balled her hand into a fist, using the soft meat below her pinky to pound on Konrad’s armor. Their way of saying “all clear”. With no offensive talents of his own, Konrad relied entirely on his shield and armor to protect himself, armoring the party with his body.
They wound their way through the worm tunnels for a half hour before Satharis stopped. He extended his wings against the tunnel walls and let out a spritz of dragon fire. Generating just enough flame to melt the stone ahead of them.
If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
“What’s going on?” Cried Hattie, panic creeping into her voice at the abrupt violence.
His head coiled like a snake ready to strike, twisting in the narrow tunnel to face her. He opened his mouth to speak, flames licking his snout, their flickering light danced across Hattie’s face. Sending Nara into a panic as she raised her hands to shield the oracle.
Satharis’ mouth snapped shut. Then he twisted forward without a word. Around them the tunnel began to grind against nothing, wiggling as stone melted. Konrad and Dorian raised their shields, stepping forward to shield Kendra as the walls and ceiling liquified, flowing away from them like molten lead.
Satharis worked his jaw a few times, snapping shut in an attempt to starve the latent flames. A maneuver he hoped the human’s would appreciate.
“My nose got itchy, anyways, the tunnel is wider now. You three in the back, come up here where I can see you. Goblinville is just ahead and I do not wish to squish you if the goblins become overly animated at your arrival.” Warned Satharis.
“You changed the dungeon just for that?” Gasped Kenra, furtively watching the walls around her.
“Are you monkeys so young as to think that moving a few rocks is a meaningful expression of power? This was nothing.” Said Satharis, laying his tail flat so the adventurers could approach.
Konrad led the way with Dorian in the rear, together they escorted Kendra to Satharis’ front left flank. A position they hoped would place the dragon between them and any goblins.
“Hattie!” Whispered Kendra, “Did you see how the dungeon changed its shape?”
“Yeah, a talent that consumed fifty thousand MP.” Answered Hattie.
Her voice was small, hesitant to utter a number so high. Kendra’s eyes bugged at the sum. She caught Hattie’s hand, leaning in so only Hattie and Nara could hear.
“We should leave.” She said, glancing towards Satharis. “Now!”
“Nara can protect me, and I have this.” Said Hattie, touching Third Chances. “Watching Dorian drill his men isn’t enough! A handful of levels will take me weeks or months! I am doing this, go home if you can’t follow. You have no reason to be here, no talent for XP like I do.”
Kendra recoiled from Hattie. Driven away by the conviction in her eyes as much as by her words. Nara shrugged, as if to say “what can we do but support her?”
“If the hens are done cooing then lets go. Be forewarned, the goblins are not as erudite as I, life means nothing to their fatuous minds. Should one of them approach you must show them violence beyond imagination. Obliterate them totally. Give them no hope of victory or they will try again.” Growled Satharis.
Konrad sheathed his sword and removed his pack. A moment of digging and he produced a metal shafted mace adorned with sigils. Kendra recognized the mace and retrieved a scepter from her own backpack. It was roughly a foot long and covered in the same akashic sigils as the mace with a large ruby set on it’s crown.
At her touch the ruby began to pulsate in a distinct rhythm that everyone recognized but could not place. One bright pulse followed by a softer pulse. Ba-dump. Konrad’s face grimaced in disgust.
“He did ask for violence beyond imagination.” Muttered Kendra.
“I have no love for goblins, but the toads hardly deserve a fate that wicked. Why even bring that deadly sin?” Groaned Konrad, replacing his backpack.
Kendra retrieved her shield and gauntlets. Every ounce of protection she could have would be welcome.
“I brought it in case the militia could be controlled, or ordered to stab us in the back. The feedback this thing causes could set them free, if they were only being controlled.” Kendra said, shivering as the sceptre of shattered stygia cried out to her.
Hattie heard it scream, a laughing shriek that made her want to vomit. Whatever suffering the scepter had endured, she was not curious enough to ask. ‘Violence beyond imagination’ was an apt way of phrasing what the scepter could do to the goblin’s body and souls. If, and Hattie prayed that she would not, Kendra used the scepter, this dungeon would become a charnel house.
“Guess I’ll let you do all the toad bashing.” Mumbled Dorian, feeling a bit put out by the guild treasures being brandished in front of him.
Satharis nudged Dorian forward with a wingtip. “Kill a few thousand goblins and something might drop for you.” He mocked.
Dorian shot him a look that said ‘watch it lizard, I’ve killed larger monsters than you’, Satharis ignored him, pushing the party forward. Dorian’s eyes flicked over the dragon’s hide, seeking a flaw or crack he could exploit. His experienced eyes found no openings, no missing scales or old wounds to thrust a spear into.
You can win this bout dragon, but one day you won’t be the one to laugh. There are things in this world that you could not comprehend, no matter how ‘erudite’ you think you are.
With the pissing match decided, they marched forward, entering the chamber of Hattie’s worst nightmares. She saw the yurt where Eric hacked open her throat, saw the blood stain from where Nestor had dismantled Eric. Her stomach twisted into knots, and Nara’s once comforting hands seemed to weigh her down. One of the elven hands shifted, suddenly holding a throwing knife. Hattie’s eyes widened as she saw what was ahead of them. Goblins filled the chamber, at least a hundred of the monstrosities lived within the once empty space, standing in combat circles.
Green devils hooted at pairs of combatants fighting in every circle’s center. As Hattie looked on, the nearest duel concluded with one goblin striking a lucky blow across his opponent’s chest and neck. His dagger slid through the arteries in the neck, squirting blood, sending his opponent staggering backwards, making the fatal mistake of dropping his shield in a pitiful attempt at staunching the bleeding.
Smiling wickedly, the victorious goblin chased down his opponent, kicking him square in the chest. He fell to the floor catching a dagger to the heart from his ascendant opponent, but one thrust was not enough for the victorious goblin, oh no. He stabbed his blade into writhing victim again and again, howling in the ecstacy of triumph until his chest cavity disintegrated, merging with the dungeon that birthed it.
The surrounding goblins thought this brutality made for excellent entertainment, shouting unintelligible encouragement to their victorious goblin. A muscular goblin in heavy armor took advantage of the mood and pushed one of his comrades into the circle’s center. His nonverbal command beginning the next training match.
Level up!
Hattie covered her mouth as the notification appeared in her mind. This is what she had come to receive, she could catch up to Nara, maybe even surpass Nestor, she just had to keep her eyes open.
Too late, her eyes were already closed.
“We can stop here.” Said Nara, squeezing Satharis’ with her thighs like one would squeeze a horse. Satharis paused, having never ridden a horse he could not take offense from the gesture. After a moment, Nara whispered into Hattie’s ear, “Don’t look at the tents, focus on the goblins, we are in their dungeon and they have their mana cores, this isn’t death for them.”
That’s right, this is only… ah, what had tantalus called it? Exercise? Oh! I’ve got it! Training!
Hattie clung to the talisman of training, forcing her eyes open. Another goblin died, birthing another Level up! alert. She bore through it, interlacing her hand with Nara’s, she surveyed Goblinville once more.
Each of the bloodsport circles followed a standardized composition, with one goblin that was taller and better equipped than his kin picking fights and ensuring constant combat. The other members of the squad came and went, retrieving weapons, respawning, or hiding a newfound drop. Though the same goblins always returned to the same circle, never intruding on a higher or lower sphere. Five peculiarly large goblins moving through the training camp, shadowing what seemed to be the chieftain. Wherever these five goblins went they were shown deference. With goblins bowing, averting their eyes, or scurrying away from the chiefs.
With her divine eyes Hattie could understand why. Levels and talents across Goblinville varied, each circle held goblins of a similar level, with each armored goblin being of a much higher level than the rest. A simple enough idea, the higher your level, the higher your strength, armor, and social standing. Humans were no different, Eric and Nestor were proof.
As a dozen more domestic disputes played out in front of the adventurers they witnessed how goblinville’s hierarchy worked, perceiving what Hattie had already divined. With each defeated goblin an item dropped, sometimes it was a single silver coin, other times it was a sword.
No matter the drop, it was retrieved by the highest leveled goblin. He gave the drop a once over, claiming it for his own, or if he already had a better version of the drop, he would return it to the victor, embodying the cycle of ‘death and taxes’. Hattie’s level continuously ascended as the goblins died and were reborn, her ‘Curiosity’ proving to be the single strongest talent in existence.
Why was I given this talent and class? Thought Hattie, praying that her talents might activate and tell her.
An echo of oohs and aawwws drew the human’s attention, converging eyes witnessed a goblin slowly devolve into a crystal the size of a cantaloupe. The armored captain picked up the giant mana crystal with reverence, handing it to the scrawniest goblin in his circle. The runt seemed to possess the lowest level as well as the lowest strength stats, a genetically ungifted goblin who received one extra point in intelligence at the cost of two less strength. The runt conveyed the prize to the chieftain, a goblin Hattie now recognized as ‘Gurk’. Gurk nodded to the runt, and spoke gently. The runt nodded quickly and ran into a distant yurt, emerging empty handed and returning to his circle, constantly alert for danger.
Goblinville was ruled by the strong, the weakest among them were meer fodder, easy pickings for stronger goblins who wished to add easy experience. Each circle contained one of these go-for runts, constantly glancing around them to evade their stronger bullies. One such goblin was the first to notice the humans, he glanced furtively at the dragon, clearly wondering if today would be the day Satharis scorched him alive.
By the deference they were showing the dragon it was evident that he had shown them “immeasurable violence”, many of the goblins would not dare glance in his direction.
However, the smallest the runts had shifty eyes. As the feeblest of the feeble his entire existence depended on avoiding fights and remaining constantly alert to the smallest shift in atmosphere. A trait that allowed him to catch sight of the humans in Satharis’ shadow. It did not take long for word to spread from the go-for goblin to his kin. Jeers echoed through the hall as the goblins turned their attention to the invaders.
Satharis shook his head, a sign the armored goblins picked up on. They were smart enough to run. Undertaking a tactical retreat rather than a certain draconic defeat.
The unarmored goblins did not dawdle on compunctions of defeat, no, their simple weapons could be burned alongside them. Dying to dragonfire was painful, but pain was easily forgotten in a perpetual cycle of death and respawning. A temporary difficulty they would willingly suffer if it meant they could kill a human.
Satharis’ tail swished in the air and he turned his head just enough to speak to Hattie.
“Cast a spell, the brightest one you have!” He ordered.
Hattie tapped into her spells, quickly casting bless on Satharis and protection on herself, her MP drained by forty points. Both spells illuminated the darkness with a soft white glow, encasing Satharis and Hattie in soft white light, little more than the light of a few candles. Forty odd goblins saw the weakness of her spells and howled. Mistakenly assuming the brightness of the spell equated its power.
“Not on me you twat! On them!” Roared the dragon, fire gathering in his mouth.
The goblins charged towards Satharis. Dragon fire might claim their lives but if they could kill a human the XP would propel them to the top. They would be the boss, they would order the other goblins to do their bidding. Soon after that they would take Gurk’s armor, adorning themselves in the mantle of Hephestus.