Deep Forest
Thanks to her Alert skill giving her warning of the Goblin's presence, and her Muffle skill allowing her to silently move back among the trees, it seemed she was able to get away without likewise alerting the greenskin. As she moved among the branches, the creature did suddenly tilt its head...but it wasn't looking in quite the right direction. The goblin scratched its head, made a short circle around its clearing...then shrugged and went back to its training. It sounded like that feast of theirs in the distance was winding down too...
Femus meditated to restore his Mana, and as part of the usual deep breathing and calm mind he tried to follow the flow of energy within his body. At first, it seemed like he was only feeling the pump of his heartbeat and the warm blood within his veins. Then, he began to notice a sort of...tingling feeling, not quite following his blood vessels but somewhat running in parallel with them. He began to concentrate on images and sensations of "toughness." Skin, muscle, and bone.
"Mana, toughen this flesh, Shield."
You used Magic Analysis I!
---Shield??---
Your Mana is being directed throughout your body, you are attempting to alter the flow. You are attempting to bolster your natural defenses, but so far only physical properties are being affected...
But Femus asked himself, what did he have to do to produce change in his Mana? He turned his attention to his own body--as soon as he had started casting, the Meditate spell had shut off. But as he finished his chant...
Skill Gain: Shield I (0.6 > 1.0)!
The most basic of defensive support spells. An aura effect reduces incoming damage, but no physical barrier or counteractive forces are generated. Only natural resistances to damage are reinforced. Can be cast on objects.
Skill Gain: Mana Shape I (0.9 > 1.0)!
You can shape your raw Mana into the appearance of something. At this rank, your Mana does not have weight, force, or other physical qualities. Your Mana cannot produce sounds. Your Mana cannot move freely. Your mana can have its color changed. Your shapes must be relatively simple with no moving parts. The shape cannot be held for long without more MP.
Your MP is low!
It seemed chanting did indeed increase the power of a spell, but it also significantly drained his MP. He had even had Temporary Extra MP before he had started casting. Could chanting too much drain him completely, or cause some other problems?
Before long, Nira returned. But now the forest was beginning to dim--the sound of the goblins was getting quiet, and the sun's fading red rays were filtering through the trees. Night would be upon them soon...
Monster Party
Ash seemed too preoccupied with her experiments to recognize Digbie speaking to her at first, but the time for talk was passed now it seemed. Though she continued to orbit her spear and the stone around her with Lesser Force, she sat back on her haunches like a small, scaly, winged, magical dog.
Torrent activated her stealth skills, first changing the color of her body into something woody and then quietly slithering through the grass. Once she was hidden among the low lying brush in the treeline, the next task was to get a good vantage point--if the other goblins walked down the hill towards the campsite, she would be roughly behind and to the north of them. If they stayed atop the hill, however, her vision would be limited because of the underbrush and she would be within their peripheral...
Oberon felt more MP than usual leave his body as he cast this Shaped, unusual form of Mana Slice across the stream. It bit into the trunk of a nearby tree with sound honestly not too different from the saw the Sprite had envisioned. The wound it left behind definitely seemed a bit deeper and more ragged than what Mana Slice usually caused. However, so far no new skill had triggered. And afterwards--which might be considered lucky, rather than before-wards--a group of figures appeared above them in the dim, dawning light of morning.
Skill Rank Up: Mana Orb I > Mana Orb II (1.95 > 2.025!)
Magic Damage Increased. MP Cost Increased.
ERROR. Cannot activate Earth Vein at this Rank in conjunction with other Active Skills.
As Digbie held the denser, and now brighter, Mana Orb in his hand he "felt" the internal buzz as his Earth Vein failed to activate. Up above, the goblins called out to him once more.
"Oi, Demi-gob, it be us! No needs magicks!" Rags Nar, still wearing his pilfered maille and damaged clothing--which now seemed familiar to Digbie for some reason--had his wooden pot lid on one arm while the other held the reins of his mount, as if he had perhaps expected an attack for some reason. A few of the goblins with him were different this time--the one with the fur pelt was still there, as was the one with the skillet hanging over his chest, but the female wearing the potato sack and the skinny one that had been the goat's lead weren't with the group. The Four Horned Goat still didn't look very happy with having a Goblin on its back, but cordage had been looped around its back ankles so that it could only go at a trot. Trying to break into a run would just trip the creature up, and with its movement limited like that the goblins could probably catch it if it tried to get away. Of course, the creature's eyes kept darting back to the offensive shackles--there was no doubt that this creature was still trying to think of a way to take vengeance upon its oppressors.
But those two different goblins. One of them looked dangerous, even compared to Rags Nar. He didn't have any real armor, just a loincloth and cave-man style robe made from fur and a few pieces of tree-bark wrapped around his arms and legs with vines. However, in both hands he held an actual sword--not a dagger like Rags Nar, nor a broken bit of blade with a hilt like Digbie, but a true sword. It looked to be just under three feet long, making it almost as tall as the Goblin holding it, but of that length the hilt accounted for six or so inches. The goblin had to hold its large, rounded pommel in his second hand just to lever the thing enough for a swing. The only thing that detracted from the weapon's ferocity was the fact that it looked like it was about to crumble just from contact with the air--it was rusted and chipped to such an extent it was amazing that it hadn't already broken. And from the way he held it, the Goblin was clearly no swordsman--like as not, he treated the thing like a club.
And the last, it was clear she was to be Digbie's "offering" he had requested. She looked older, but not elderly. She was fully mature, if the swell of her hips and slight bust were any indication, and had shoulder length hair of a dark, greasy sheen that almost looked purple. She wore a single, slightly tarnished gold chain around her neck. A pair of wooden bowls, of about the size one would use for a side dish or a single serving, had been threaded with a vine and made into a crude top. She also wore a grass skirt much longer and a little better made than Digbie's, as well as bone ornamentation around her wrists and ankles. Her large nose had a scar on the bridge, like it had been bitten off at some point, and a single fang stuck out of one corner of her mouth. Her narrow eyes looked Digbie over from beneath eyebrows like enormous catepillars. She had fingernails that looked long enough to be used as weapons all on their own.
"Demi-gob, dis bes Mahya!" Rags Nar dismounted his goat, handing the reins to the goblin with the animal pelt around his neck, and strode down the hill. The female goblin and the one with the sword followed him, the former at his side and the latter at a slight distance. The sword goblin eyed the other creatures in the clearing suspiciously, and his grip on his weapon was tight. Rags Nar continued, "she be one 'a da prettiest gobs in da whole tribe! Already had three baby gobs, so she bes sure ta gives ya one too!" He slapped Mahya's rear end, and with a yellow smile she began to move towards Digbie in what seemed like a dance...if the object of a dance was to be as vulgar as possible. "And here's da udda stuff ya axed for!" Pulling a half-ripped sack from his vine belt, Rags Nar dumped out a ragged shirt, trousers, and cap. The material looked roughspun, probably made from natural materials rather than processed threads, but far better than what Goblins should have been able to make. The shirt was a simple sleeveless tunic, the pants had holes in the knees, and the cap wouldn't be much protection even from the elements since there were holes where the ears were supposed to go. Not to mention, these were clearly meant for someone human-sized, and would still be far too big for Digbie--the tunic alone could fit him like a night gown.
"So, has ya 'cided ta join da Broked Tower Gobs!?" Rags Nar clasped his grubby hands eagerly.
PixieSlime Party
Skill Gain: Charisma I (0.9>1.0)!
Your personality is almost a magical charm unto itself. You’ll have greater luck convincing others to go along with your suggestions, but only within their own natural reasoning. This skill may not work on those with stronger Wills.
"A blood sacrifice like that is almost exactly like Dhulfiqar's rituals. It's no wonder his influence is at work on you." Trent said, though he breathed a sigh of relief when the Hipixie cleared things up. When Ardur asked how the Divine Spirit Galatine did things instead, the boy thought for a moment before he answered. "I don't have my prayer book with me, but I was always taught that praying to Galatine should be like a knight presenting his service to the liege lord. Instead of asking the Divine Spirit to do something for you, you seek out things to do for him. The "sacrifice" Galatine requires is that of one's physical service and personal belief--a lot of temples dedicated to him have a militant faction, and they have to follow a special code."
As the Amorphous Slime and the evolved fae discussed what had happened to the "magical slime" after making contact with the core, Zieglar once again put a hand over his mouth and chin. His eyes widened for a mere instant when Ardur mentioned that the Mana Crystals had been absorbed by the Core. Then he reached up and pulled his visor down. He was silent for the rest of the discussion--until Asura asked Trent to punch him and shapeshifted one of his false limbs into a shield. Then hearty laughter echoed from within the man's helmet.
"Training your own resistance to damage...given the kind of pain one has to go through for even a few levels in those abilities, most monsters below the third tier never even think to do such a thing! And for a slime, whose forte is already its hardiness, to do such a thing..." He shook his head and then looked at Trent. "Do you feel up to it, boy?"
Something in the knight's tone didn't feel quite...genuine.
Trent gulped, then carefully pulled the leather glove on his sword hand tighter around his fingers. He clenched a tight fist, and approached Asura.
"S-sorry if this hurts too much..."
The boy took a somewhat generic fighting stance, and a deep breath. He padded back and forth from foot to foot for a moment...then planted his feet and took a swing, torquing his hips. It didn't look like he was putting everything he had into it, but it didn't look like he was slacking too much either. Due to the height difference between him and Asura, it was more like an off-center uppercut to the body.
The impact struck Asura's shield and lifted up, bowling the slime over and rolling him along the ground. It definitely
hurt, but it wasn't the absolute worst damage the slime had ever taken thus far. If he had to make a guess, he might say that such an impact might kill him outright if he took...perhaps three of them. As it was, if he still had a human cranium, there was no doubt it would have heavily dazed him. Zieglar guffawed, an honest sound this time, then turned to Ardur.
"Ahum! Ah. Well, if we're all in agreement then, let's do it. The quicker that Dungeon is cleared the better, and this way we won't have to wait for a suppression force from the Guild. But there's something to keep in mind when plunging into an Undead Dungeon." The knight snapped a twig from a nearby tree and began drawing in the dirt. First, a stick figure with pointy ears and an angry face.
"Let's say this is a Goblin, or some other creature that has been assimilated by the Dungeon Core. That means the Core now controls that monster's mind. There are a number of ways it can accomplish that, but that's besides my point for now." He crossed out the stick figure with an X. "You kill it like you do anything else...but, this Dungeon is full of the kinds of foul magics that raise the dead." He scratched another stick figure, but with x's for eyes and a missing arm. "So the creature you just killed? It will eventually rise as an Undead. The speed depends on several factors, but in the worst case, you wouldn't even get a breather before the fight started again. That Goblin, it would likely become a Zombie Goblin--Zomblin for short." He crossed out the zombie, and began drawing a cartoonish skull. "Now, let's say perhaps you use something magical, or just do a lot of cutting damage until you've flayed the creature's flesh from its bones. That's still not enough, as you've already seen. And even then..." He crossed out the skull, and next drew a small circle with a wavey trail then gave it eyes and a mouth. "You have the spirit. So, worst case scenario? Depending on how they are destroyed, and how powerful the Core has grown, you may have to actually fight the same creature four times over." He drew an arrow from the spirit back to the very beginning. "And, if those spirits are strong enough? They can possess a new body." He tossed the stick over his shoulder and put his fists on his hips as he looked at Asura and Ardur.
"That is the true danger of an Undead Dungeon. If there are only 10 monsters in it, you may still face the equivalent of 40 monsters. If monsters outside the dungeon, or even members of your own party, aren't strong enough then the spirits may be able to just steal new bodies. At higher levels, an Undead Dungeon is, perhaps, the most dangerous thing short of the Demon King's own palace. And even then. There's a reason so many Demon Kings have been Necromancers, after all." He crossed his arms.
"This one is still fresh. Even given the rapid rate of change you and the other "smart monsters" have brought about, I don't think it's at a level where we need to panic yet. But even for a party of five, it will not be easy. If you're absolutely certain you want to undertake it, I will guard the entrance until you return or I see signs of the Core's power increasing." None of them had to read the tone to pick up what the implication was there. "And Trent will lead you in, find the Core, and help you destroy it. But..."
Now the Knight turned to Trent, and the boy immediately snapped to attention.
"This will not be like other Quests you have had, boy! I expect you to take charge here!" He gestured towards the monsters. "I can think of no better test of your tactical abilities than taking monsters, at least one of whom you have never encountered the likes of! It won't be so simple as assigning magic users to the back line and shield bearers to the front--you must take into account their levels of intelligence and the changes this has caused in their bodies!"
Again Trent gulped, but after a moment his gaze hardened. He nodded his head, and put one hand on the hilt of his sword.
"Yes, sir!"
If Asura and Ardur wanted to back out or change their minds, now would be the time to do it. Otherwise, Trent would soon begin heading back to the cave, and calling for them all to follow...
Rat Party
You used Monster Analysis II!
--Gnome--
A kind of earth elemental. Roughly four spans high, they are normally reluctant to interact with other beings but can be bribed. However, unless one can figure out exactly what the creature wants, it will often remain set in its ways like a heavy stone. This makes them excellent contractors, as they will follow an agreement to the letter. They move through earth as easily as others move above ground. They often live in areas rich in ores or gemstones.
"Humans generally don't like necromancy. They're very protective of their corpses for whatever silly reason." the Gnome snorted. "My contract is to protect this barrow, yes. In fact, if it weren't for your offering last night, you coming into this chamber would be enough of a reason for me to eject you, cause you're a Non-Human. As it is, you get a slight allowance until you start messin' with somethin'. But, the only thing that could happen out of doors that would qualify on the contract is if somebody actually started digging into the place." The creature raised a chubby, toddler like hand from the dirt and pointed with one finger. "And another thing! If anything triggers an action from me, it raises an alarm with my contractors. I got no idea where they are now, but I remember there being a pretty good range on this thing. Been in place since my grand-pap's days after all, and the contract always gets renewed."
"Asteria, I got news." Ed's harsh whisper came from the entrance. He had somehow made it back without being seen or heard, but it seemed like something had happened regardless.
"See ya, rat! If ya wanna make a trade, ya gotta make it worthwhile! No gross bloody stuff!" When Asteria turned to head back, the gnome disappeared into the ground--and left no trace that he had been there. Despite Ed's sharpened senses, somehow he failed to hear the elemental's last whispers.
The three rats began to plan for their operation to defeat the bandits and rescue the cart. When Asteria relayed things to Mother Rat, the non-reincarnated creature seemed quite confused. At first she didn't want to go out, and tried to pull at Asteria and Ed's tails with her jaws as if urging them to stay inside. But, if they insisted, she would be left with no choice but to follow...
In the meantime, the cart had come closer. Close enough to see that it was drawn by two mules, and appeared to be the typical square cart one might imagine but without any kind of cover or roof. In the cart were things that seemed like essentials--a barrel of something white and glittery that might have been piles of salt, jars that smelled like oil, boxes that had the waxy, fatty smell of candles, rolls of cloth, and other things. Driving it was an older human with salt-and-pepper hair and a stony face, dressed in patched and faded clothes and a frayed coat. Sitting in the back was a young man with blonde hair, wrapped up in a cloak as he snoozed. Walking on the right side of the cart, a taller boy who seemed quite lean, but had wide shoulders that gave his arms a wide arc as they swung easily at his sides. He wore a thick blue tunic over a long sleeved shirt, and it looked like he might have an undershirt on under that as well. The morning was chilly, but was it that cold? His dark colored britches were tucked into leather boots, and a longsword was strapped to his side. He wore a large pack on his back but its weight didn't seem to hinder him much. On the left of the cart, a man with tanned skin looked like he might be a native of that village the rats had seen before. He wore a shirt made from the hide of some animal, not leather, but still a properly made garment. His pants seemed much like the other youth's, however, and he too wore a cloak. He carried a long spear with a shaft of black wood over his shoulders, and there were a few feathers tied just below its long, silvery tip.
If Asteria and Ed had chosen to continue their plan, or even if they just sat at the entrance and watched, this was the moment when all hell broke loose.
The Kobold suddenly dashed out into the road. In an instant all of the humans except the one snoozing in the cart snapped their heads up, but as their hands reached for weapons the lizard brought down its staff.
"Froshtbite!"
Icy tendrils spread across the road, forming a slippery surface that caused the mules to bray and sit down on their haunches as their legs skittered underneath them. The young man was in the process of pulling his sword and the tanned man had readied his spear, but both of them hesitated to charge forward with the terrain so affected. They had shouted by this point, so the one in the back came awake with a start. The driver, however, produced what looked like a sling from under his coat--
An arrow whistled from around the side of the barrow, and struck the driver in the shoulder. It probably would have gotten his heart if he hadn't been in the process of letting a stone fly, but the projectile was far off target as he slumped with a cry of pain. From that same side, the other hooded figure took off running. It was coming up onto the road from the side, up from the ditch and the grass, so it didn't have to contend with its ally's frost spell. Its hood fell back, revealing the creature for what it was--it was a foot taller than most goblins the rats had seen, and had a darker green tinge to its skin. Its form was more wiry and muscular, and it had more hair on its head.
It swung a sword-like weapon that had been made from some creature's jawbone tied to a stick, and in its other hand held a crude shield made from old planks of wood. The tall young man brought his sword to bear in both hands and skillfully deflected the big goblin's strike before pressing forward, slamming his weapon and his weight into its shield and pushing it back off the road...
"Minor Heal!" said the spear toting man in a deep voice, as the driver yanked the arrow out of his shoulder. It didn't have a head, it had only been a sharpened twig of wood with some ragged feathers glued to it by tree sap. The soft green glow surrounded the wound and the bleeding began to slow...
The other young man stood up in the back of the cart, holding a book in his hands.
"Dust of the earth, light of the sun, wind all around--" he was chanting, and a speck in his hand began to glow red hot like an ember being blown on to start a proper fire.
On the opposite side of the road, in the other ditch, the two human bandits were making their way through the tall grass. They weren't exactly hidden, but their victims were all paying attention to the Kobold in front of them, their own wounded, or the enemies on the other side of the road...
The rats' ears could pick up the sound of another arrow being pulled from the quiver and notched to the string...
Ghost Party
Danny's attempt to use Lesser Force to force apart the pseudo Fireball in an explosion seemed to be a step in the right direction for his goal. It wasn't really an "explosion," but the red orb did expand. It was more like inflating a baloon than anything. And when it burst, it didn't produce any light, flames, or really much of a sound besides a sudden rush of wind. The temperature of the surrounding air did increase several degrees, though. Maybe if he had done it with a fully formed fireball the result would have been different. Nothing caught fire, luckily, allowing the Poltergeist to begin carving his kill.
You used Crafting I!
Goblin Heart + Goblin Meat + Curved Stick + Fire
You got Goblin Skewer!
A fresh roasted skewer of goblin parts. It smells...edible?
You are Level 7. EXP: 80%.
Just then, the earth where Jason had buried himself suddenly shifted. A lump of soil rose up, like a bubble was inflating inside the ground itself. Then it gave way, falling back with a puff of dust. The puff drifted in an unusual way, and given his previous experiences Danny would no doubt put together that the falling soil was shifting around Jason's spiritual body before it fell back to earth.
The Ecto-Slime soon found himself feeling normal again, though his MP had depleted more than he might have expected. As he whispered the name of the bronze-skinned monk, he saw no more visions or strange figures. So...where did he go from here?
At least the sun was starting to go down, and he didn't have to worry about it burning him as much...
