Farmstead
As Lear continued to read of Ishin's exploits--he had just defeated a group of bandits after his first quest as a proper adventurer had gone awry, in the process befriending a young knight and a treasure hunting girl--he paused for a moment and turned his head. Miiba too, normally so attentive to everything the family did, was distracted and kept looking out the window.
"...Say, Geir's still out there, huh? And it sounded like he used his Warcry. Mira, you might need to help him--I bet the Wisps are flying up over his head." the farmer said, before he started trying to find his place...though his full attention no longer seemed to be on the story.
Meanwhile, Jason charged back into the Spirit Realm, attempting to slam into Geir with the full force of his being. Using Transparency caused his form and Geir's to overlap, and both of them felt an unpleasant buzz like a constant crackle of static electricity. Jason tried to cast Shield as well to try and lock himself in--but Shield was not a barrier spell. It only buffered the target's natural defenses, and it seemed his abstract idea of a target--the spirit world itself--did not count. He felt another unpleasant shiver as the spell failed to activate. The spirit now tried to recover his MP by draining Geir--then it became a battle of wills.
Screaming out to Onogoro--a sound that seemed to echo even louder in this odd limbo world--he grabbed Geir and threw him over his hip. The misty white form of the redhead's body crashed into the "floor," with a resonating impact.
Anger. Fury. Sadness. Staring at a wood-backed plate of tin with small letters engraved into it. He looked up, because there were people talking to him. A boy as tall as he was, and broad in the shoulders but somewhat gangly. A younger kid, but better dressed.
"H-hello, sir. My n-name is Trent, and I just registered recently as well! I thought, perhaps, we could h-help each other out..."
"What Class are you?" Class. It didn't make a lot of sense out in the countryside, but there was a difference between your "class" and your "class," here in the city. A noble and a commoner might still both be trained in the same fighting style or the use of the same equipment, if they were both drafted into the army or hired as Adventurers. Asking what their "job" was wouldn't be specific enough for the bureaucracy in charge of the guilds and armies either--They were all Adventurers, to make their livings. But he was apparently, a "Barbarian." His upper lip curled. And these two...
"Ah, I, I'm a squah, Squire." Trent answered. "I'm h-hoping that, once I get some more experience, a Knight will pick me as an apprentice..."
"I'm Wulf. Just your regular Swordsman, here!" The taller boy put those long arms behind his head and grinned like he didn't have a care in the world. The redhead instantly hated him. "So who're you, pal? And why're ya so pissed off?"
He stood up, and Trent gulped when he saw how much bigger the other boy was.
"My name's--""GEIR OF IRONWOOD!"
Jason felt his ankle grabbed from below, but when he instinctively put his weight on the other leg a hand hooked that same knee and jerked, bending it enough that with a twist Geir forced Jason to his knees. At the same time he'd given himself a handhold to pull up, and now he pushed through with both feet, spearing Jason in the midsection. The two rolled over and over, until Geir came up on top and slammed a heavy fist into the former warlord's jaw.
For a battle of spirits, this battle felt perfectly
real, and the shock of it stunned the Ectoslime for just a moment. Geir's shape was almost exactly the same as real life--it didn't shiver like the identities of other monsters, and his rage was palpable. As his fist came down one more time, Jason even noticed something else. The boy's arm had turned into a thick wooden log, studded with iron nails. Again Jason took an incredibly heavy blow.
"An Ashyran ghost!?" Geir's voice echoed. With a snarl he stood, dragging Jason's African form with him. "Fuck off!"
They seemed to be standing on a white circle floating in the black void. Geir's arms bulged with muscle as he tried to hurl Jason out once more...
In the real world, Geir spasmed and twisted once Jason hit him. Danny's throwing of sand caused the boy to yell even more as he wiped frantically as his eyes. His movements were jerky, but he still seemed to be somewhat aware of what was going on even as Jason fought him from the inside.
Danny managed to get away for the moment, but those wounds on his chest were bleeding pretty heavily, and the stinging pain felt like it got worse as he moved. Even though he had transformed, he still didn't have that much HP compared to other creatures--if Geir could get one heavy hit in, that might be it for him...
What would he do, now that Jason seemed to have the boy distracted?
And had someone just walked in front of those lit windows, back at the house?
Deep Forest
You obtained Wild Kele Shoot x5!
Carrying this number of items is difficult given your size. Your speed is slightly diminished.
While Nira plucked the wild vegetables she found, Femus hid himself from sight and continued to observe the young goblins. They stopped a few feet short of the great tree's roots, and continued to bicker for a few moments.
"We can makes nets, is easy! Just needs vines and long grasses!"
"Bah! Dun even wanna go t'da riva. Wanna find sumtin' easy roun' heres." One kicked at the dirt with a dirty, hairy foot.
"All da aminals runned 'way afta da mountain blew up." The other goblin scratched his pointed ear as he looked around. "An' da rest of da growed-up gobs keepin' wat's left from yestaday in a seekret spot."
"Maddy says she knows where it is." The first one looked around as if they might be caught speaking about this conspiracy. "Ya reckon if we helps her get it, we three just keeps it for us'ns?"
"Maybe...but if da Bosses come back an' finds out--look!"
The conversation died immediately as the goblin pointed. "A Pixie! Get it, get it!"
They took off running before Femus had really even processed their words, weapons whirling in their skinny arms as they charged...
Back over to that tree Femus and Nira had left before, where one of those three pixies he had seen playing now found itself the target of that long weighted vine. The goblin's aim was true and the creature screeched pitifully as it was struck from behind. The weapon wrapped around it, and though it struggled valiantly the Goblin yanked it down without mercy. Soon the other goblin's weapon came down in a fatal blow, cutting off the pixie's agonized scream with a bony crunch.
Nira alighted softly on another branch near Femus, looking quite tired but with the onion-like herbs in tow. The goblins soon hauled off their prey, cackling to themselves, and the two Revivers were left to their own devices once again...
Rat Party
The firepit had no doubt been used many times, both by travelers seeking shelter and from pilgrims paying their respects. Though there wasn't much firewood to be had in the barrow-foyer, there was a bed of charcoal built up over time. With the long grass Ed gathered and his flint and tinder, he soon had a glowing red bed of coals that occasionally licked up with fire. The Gnome reached down with one baby-fat hand and drew a circle in the packed earthen floor.
"Stone Mold."
Out of the small circle, a rocky shape rose up. The inner area of that drawn circle had now become the bottom of a solid cylinder, and the Gnome wriggled it back and forth a few times before it came out of the ground with a crack. As he scooped meat into this small earthware pot and placed it on the coals, he looked at Ed. It was sort of hard to read the creature's expression, given that its gemstone eyes didn't change shape and its jaw was on a sort of hinge like a puppet. But it seemed to be rather confused, and slightly amused.
"What is a Mycra-Gasm?" he said, drawing out the unfamiliar word. "And...is a Cul-nary Art like...a Vulnerary? Like what the humans use when they get hurt?"
When the rats mentioned that they had been reincarnated, the elemental stopped cold before he finished pulling some of the browned meat out of the pot. He didn't seem bothered by the fact that the tip of his stone finger was beginning to glow in the fire.
"Reincarnated? Wait, so y'all are Undead? But...you ain't rotten or nothing?"
When Asteria seemed bashful about taking the coin, the Gnome gave her a similar look as he had given Ed.
"Uh. Yeah, I mean...what I was saying was that
I gave ya the coin, fair trade for that piece of meat ya gave me last night since I wasn't really sure why you were here. But don't get ya hopes up, I ain't got much else to give and you specified that this here," he finished taking another handful of meat and began to chew it with zero table manners, "was an offering for safe shelter here in the barrow, even though you're both Monsters. So we're all even'd up--you guys get to make yourselves at home, so long as you don't touch the tomb, I gave ya a little payment on the side, and I got to eat my fill."
The female rat asked if he was a Familiar or not, and the creature grunted as if that was a silly question. Then he shrugged his shoulders, and muttered something like "rats wouldn't know magic anyhow."
"It sort of depends. See, you can have Tamed Creatures that might obey a human just cause that human provides for them or they have a beneficial kind of bond. A Familiar might be Tamed, in the sense that a human raises it, but it's different--Familiars are usually magical and pretty intelligent. Trying to put a leash on one can either be difficult, or just a plain bad idea. Most times, if a human has a Familiar, it's there by its own choice because it likes that human. It might also have been Summoned, which is similar to a contract but not always the same." The Gnome continued to eat while it talked, which was rather disgusting, but it seemed to be making a heavy dent in all that Hobgoblin steak. "Like this: a dog can't hunt on its own, so it has to stay with its owner. A wolf probably prefers being with a human because that makes its life easier, but if it had to leave it could." He began filling the pot with fresh meat, and once again set it in the fire to brown. "A Contract is a twist on all that. Like a Familiar, a Contract is formed with an intelligent, independent creature. But like a Tamed Creature, it's pretty much stuck once the contract is made. You get a choice, but you can't back out of it. Not without a whole lot of trouble, anyway. Tamed Creatures are always weaker than their masters. Familiars might have powers their masters don't, but again they're usually weaker. Summons can call creatures on equal standing or below, unless you do some more complex stuff that can go wrong real quick or you're on good terms with the stronger Summoned Creature. Contracts, typically, can work on any kind of creature--because the creature also gets something out of it, and their power is used to bind the other party just as much as they're bound themselves."
The earthen creature had gone through two whole pounds of Hobgoblin burger by this point, and slowed down considerably as he patted his stomach. Still, every so often he would grab another handful from the pot. So much fat had collected at this point that it sizzled and popped like a well greased pan, and the smell was mouthwatering.
"A creature might choose to take up a contract just cause it likes you, but that wasn't the case for me. I did it cause my family's always done it, and it's been a good deal for us--free food, any time something wanders in here that shouldn't. Occasionally I get some good stuff from the offerings that doesn't fit the "turn in" criteria. And a power boost from the Contractor. This is a multi-generational contract for the mage's family over in Laketown too, so I imagine he's pretty satisfied with the carryover he gets. The only thing that ain't too great is that, if things get bad enough for him, he can Summon me to fight on his behalf. But since the main purpose of the contract is to protect the barrow, I don't usually gotta worry about that."
Asteria then asked about monsters that could talk. Again, the Gnome's expression was hard to read.
"Uh...I'm speaking Gnomish, right now, I dunno about you. You...
sound like you're speaking Gnomish? And for a Dire Rat, that oughta be damn near impossible. Can't say for speaking the Human or Goblin tongues. As for my Contractor..." again the stone infant-shaped creature shrugged. "He doesn't usually come by himself. A guard or two will pop their heads in a few times a week on patrol, a traveler who gets caught in the rain might camp out here in the front chamber, and once a month or so a priest comes by to make sure the place stays cleansed." He popped one more handful of food into his jaw, but seemed to have difficulty working it, as if he had filled himself to the brim.
"I imagine you guys would be fine to stay here...two, maybe three days? Long as you don't leave a trail of droppings or something." He sighed and leaned back, and despite being made of stone his belly definitely seemed like it poked out a little more. "Oh maaaan, I haven't eaten that good since one of them Orcs wandered in here! And just think, I got enough left for supper, and breakfast tomorrow, and maybe brunch too!"
Now somewhat relaxed, the Gnome tilted his head at the rats.
"I overheard you guys talkin' about training or getting stronger or something, right? You're talking about...that stuff humans do, where they stand there and swing a sword a hundred times or stare at pieces of paper to learn magic? What's the point of all that?"
PixieSlime Party
You used Material Analysis I!
---Poisoned Wooden Javelin (Average)---
It seems a Pointy Stick was Sharpened into this lightweight javelin, then coated in Poison. With enough throwing force, it can cover a decent distance. Its tip is quite dangerous to soft targets, but any decent armor would quickly blunt the wood.
While the Hipixie analyzed the weapon, and Asura grabbed both the javelin and a handful of stones, Trent adjusted the strap on his targe. Thankfully the shield could still be used without having a full grip, and thus he could hold the torch in that hand while drawing his sword.
Another javelin arced through the air. It struck Trent in his shoulder just before he had fully drawn his weapon, but thankfully it failed to pierce his thick gambeson. However, the poison on the tip hissed and sizzled in the air, eating a short distance into the material. The impact drove the youth back a step, but he grit his teeth and bore it.
"You're right, Ardur--we're at a distinct disadvantage if we can't see them. But--"
Before he could finish what he was saying, Asura had slithered off in the direction the attacks were coming from. Steve the spider scuttled behind him, and Momma Slime pushed at the back of Trent's legs like a dog in an attempt to follow them. And the Hipixie conjured a quite bright ball of flame.
Upon release, with Ardur's words still lingering on the air, the spell flew up high--higher than it normally would have traveled if he had shot it the normal way. And it burned brighter than a fireball should have. When it reached its maximum height, it burst--not the area-of-effect explosion of the Rank II Fireball, but certainly more spread out than a normal blast. And it unleashed a short-lived flash, like turning on a bright lamp in a dark room before one's eyes have readjusted.
The party was bathed in light, as was the rest of the cave, for that short instant. Up ahead, Asura could see two figures blocking the exit of this chokepoint path along the pool's shore. One was a Fanged Lizard--it was too far away to use its poisonous spit to attack yet. Even if Asura were to use his Throw Item skill, however, it looked too far away for him to hit too.
The second figure was a Goblin--or, at least closer to one than the Skeleblins they found everywhere. Its belly was bloated, and something had been chewing on its limbs. Its flesh was dry and cracked in places. Its eyes and jaw sagged, black bile dripping between the yellowed teeth. And it seemed to be wearing armor, made of bony plates like shoulder blades, skull caps, and so forth--and these bones still had gristle and blood on them.
As Asura continued to charge forward, it picked up another javelin from a pile lying next to it...and affixed the weapon along a slot of some sort, carved into a shorter stick. Holding that stick like a handle, the undead creature gave a grunt and hurled it--sending the projectile flying much further than it could have thrown it normally. Thanks to Ardur's short lived light, it had an even easier target, and the hissing purple tip headed right for Asura's "face..."
While Asura was the first to get a good look at their attacker, Trent and Ardur could see further across the pond. That pulsing red light flashed brighter as well, and the various figures milling about the cave were lit from above and behind in a terrible light...
Dozens of Skeleblins, some even holding weapons, turned their chattering skulls towards the flare.
Two flickering green lights, Ghost Wisps like what they had encountered before, were already heading towards the exit to the choke point to join the other attackers.
And another dozen lights, whiter and brighter but with a slight purple sheen, began to flicker all along the cave's ceiling.
Creeping, crawling figures with raspy scales and hissing tongues scurried back into the shadows. Squeaking, fat, furry forms joined them. Piles of black, rotting goop and rolling spheres of color began to move in a slow, inexaustible fashion. Darting shapes reflected the light from their gossamer wings, and though some were slower--and others were far too thin--they too began to make their way towards the intruders...
Then the light went out, and save for Trent's quivering torch, the group was blind in the dark once more...
Monster Party
Oberon's Mana Slice parted the air with a whistle, cutting deep into the sword-goblin's forearms just as he loosened the weapon from the goat's corpse. He screamed and fell backwards. The edges of the spell hadn't gone bone-deep, nor did they seem to have struck any fatal arteries, but it looked like someone had taken a paring knife and simply slashed the goblin open. If it weren't for the crescent shaped energy being nearly two dimensional in width with a clean edge, it was the kind of cut that would have definitely needed sutures.
Digbie charged up a Mana Orb in his hands, and it crackled as the stripes on his arms glowed. Then he began to channel the power of Stone Shot as well. He trying to use Stone Shot II--but something unpleasant buzzed in his head and his hands, and the flow of energy suddenly felt choked. He remembered that Dual Cast's description had claimed its current rank couldn't use Spells higher than Rank I together unless they were the
same spell.
Still, he held onto the Rank I Mana Orb and the Rank I Stone Shot's energies in his palms--the energy became unstable as it mixed, so he had to tense his arms and hold it close to his body as he glared at Rags Nar...
"Y-you, D-Demigob--!" The Elite Goblin growled, but he only managed to get up onto one knee. He had been hit, hard, in the head by that arrow and like a boxer getting hit on the jaw it had temporarily stunned him.
If Digbie could have seen himself from the outside perspective, he might have realized his stance--and the glowing energy in his hands--looked very much like a popular move from various fighting games and fictional martial arts. Like many young fans, Rags Nar was dumbstruck by the dramatic nature of the technique.
With a shout, Digbie hurled the magic right at the Broken Tower chief. In the moment it launched, Digbie felt the magic...condense? Its glow seemed to die down, and the sphere's "edges" seemed to be much more defined rather than a cloud of light. And like a pebble thrown by a baseball pitcher, it rocketed forward.
It hit Rags Nar's chain hauberk just as he forced himself onto his feet, and actually broke another section of the weakened links. Once again the goblin leader was knocked onto his backside.
The goblin fighting with Torrent had managed to land a light slash on her side, but now suddenly found himself jabbed by Ash's stinger as she sneaked in from above and behind. Thanks to the earlier dose from Torrent's jaws, the goblin's nervous system locked up and he went down with a slight twitching of his jaws and fingertips. Mahya was still unconscious, and the frying pan goblin was only just getting up after being headbutted by the goat.
A net, made of woven plant cordage with rocks tied to different parts of it, stretched out as it flew over the swordsgoblin and the one wearing the pan. As it fell and entangled them, the weight of the rocks pulled it tighter. The two goblins began to struggle to get out of it--but without coordinating their efforts, they hindered each other more than anything. And the mysterious rider jumped off of his mount.
"Demigob! You, YOU AIN'T ACTIN' LIKE A GOB--" The Elite was out of breath and clearly hurting, but he still managed to hold his knife in a firm grip. He took up a stance to start sprinting at Digbie--
Then the rider roundhouse kicked him in the stomach, stepping to the side as the goblin pitched forward.
The figure's hide-and-wrapping clothes had been adjusted somewhat, as he pushed his cloak out of the way of his arms and legs. Primitive sandals made from woven straw, with strips of bark wrapped over them, still had large enough gaps that yellowed nails and dark, heavily desaturated green skin showed through. Rawhide strings crisscrossed over trousers of overlapping furs, to keep them from catching and unraveling if they were snagged. The shirt was really more of a thick mantle, two limbs of whatever creature provided its pelt used to tie it around the shoulders and then smaller bits of hide sewn where it hung over the shoulders. Parts of the creature's midriff were visible, showcasing a hard and muscular trunk complete with scars and some kind of tattoos. Its head was still hooded, but that fanged smile still gleamed. Its arms were wrapped in a kind of thick gloves or mittens up to the elbows, but above that sinewy arms bulged not like a body builder's, but like someone accustomed to long hours of back breaking labor. But it wasn't just his appearance, or his size--just an inch or two over five feet--that had the Monster Party gawping at this mystery monster.
Rags Nar still managed to swing with his knife, doubled over from that kick. The covered figure took a step back and let the attack whiff, then when Rags lunged for a follow-up the being side stepped him and threw a heavy haymaker right on top of the goblin's ear. The smaller greenskin's skull made a
thunk sound against the big one's fist, and for the third time the Elite hit the ground. The unknown monster kicked him again, a vicious soccer kick to the ribs. When Rags curled up like a bug, the assailant reached down and grabbed him by his scrawny shoulders and hauled him up--only to deliver a merciless knee to the goblin's warty nose. Blood spattered with a loud crack.
Rags Nar fell to his knees. Blood streamed down his face, a large bruise was forming over his temple, and his jaw hung slack as tears welled up in his eyes. He coughed and gurgled as he looked up at his tormentor.
The rider took a half step back, then surged forward with a front stomping kick across the goblin's relaxed jaw. The Broken Tower chief crumpled without a word.
As Ash, Torrent, Digbie, and Oberon saw this unfold before them, the creature straightened and did a slow turn. He counted Mahya, the paralyzed pelted Goblin, the two in the net, and then finally came back to Rags Nar.
"Ha! Haha! Ain't that a haul!" He walked over to the two goblins in the net--they had only just begun to work together to untangle themselves, when the figure grabbed a set of vines that were longer than the rest and yanked them. The net closed up at the other end, drawing taut around the two struggling runts. "You two, quitcher strugglin' if ya don't wanna end up like yer boss!" A couple of kicks accentuated the threat, and the helpless goblins gave a few last yelps before they clammed up.
"Here, little Demi!" The figure looked at Digbie, then hooked his foot under that Rusty Sword and lobbed it towards the magical goblin. "That don't look like it'd be too bad if ya polished 'er up!" He then gestured with his head towards the other downed members of the tribe. "And if ya want any'fin' off'm there, take it while ya can!" He rustled in a pouch on his belt, before also tossing Digbie a small, square stone made of something that felt rough and chalky, but also glittered in the light.
This strange rider dragged his catch back to the Cariblade, which simply stood and snorted through its huge nostrils. Every so often it would look around at the party dismissively. Its master reached into the saddlebags and pulled out some crudely made, but quite functional manacles of iron and a chain.
"Hands!" he growled at his two captives, and after an encouraging cuff to the ears they stuck their scrawny wrists through the holes in the mesh. The rider shackled them, and ran the chain through like a lead. After making sure they wouldn't be able to get out of the net, he removed a third pair of manacles and looked back towards the other goblins. After a moment of thought, he walked around to the other saddlebag and removed another length of cordage, this one somewhat better made. It had an iron grappling hook on one end of it, which he untied.
While he was doing all of this, the Monster Party would have enough time to get everything they wanted off the fallen goblins."Oi, Pygmy Drake! Reckon you and yer buds could help me tie them two up?" He pointed at the unconscious Mahya and the paralyzed goblins. "I'll hav'ta throw 'em over me saddle, and lead the otha three back on foot." Then he looked over at Oberon. "An' you there, Sprite! Ya gots healin' magic, aintcha? When I get their chief in ir'ns, get 'im on his feet fer me!"
The group would likely feel some kind of inner conflict as all this occurred. What exactly were they doing, helping this creature? He was clearly taking the goblins prisoner, and had no qualms about using the most vicious means available to do so. But, did they want to release Rags and his cronies? Would it be easier to just let this thing take the Goblins, and get the Broken Tower tribe out of their hair? But what about the rest of the tribe, back at the broken tower itself?
Even so, if they were to fight this creature...He had beaten the absolute snot out of Rags Nar, an Elite Goblin and clearly no pushover. And he had done it with no weapons, and barely breaking a sweat. He was no Zawisza, but he was clearly above most enemies they had seen in this forest...even Rattleskull.
Assuming the group went through with helping the being secure the rest of the goblins, and laying Mahya and the fur-clothed one over the Cariblade's back while Rags Nar was chained to the others, the creature would chat good-naturedly as he worked.
"Oh ye, this'll be a notch in ol' Guze's blade fer sure! An' I suppose they won't be botherin' you lot no more, eh? Haha! Although," He paused for a moment and pointed slightly north and to the west, at an angle to the mountains. "Ya might get a few scouts lookin' fer 'em. But these Broke Tower Mukhs, they ain't much fer leavin' their rock pile. Got too comfy in there, scared of what's outside." He spat derisively. "If their cap'n don't show up after a day or two, they'll prolly just pick a new one."
"Ya dun kno' nuttin, Orc!" Despite Oberon's healing, Rags Nar would still have a big swollen knot on the bridge of his nose and several bruises and scrapes. "Broked Tower da strongest Gobs! We gots an army, gonna come find you an--"
"SHARRAP, YA MUKH!" The Orc said that word like "mook," which implied how much he thought of the goblins. Rags Nar squeaked as he jumped away from a half-hearted kick. A quick tug on his chains brought him back in ear-boxing range. "Anyway," Guze continued, "If yer lookin' to avoid other tribes, straight east of here there's a bigass Kao tree. Them gobs out there actually got some good sense 'bout 'em, far as scrappin' goes. I'd avoid them too. Oh, and the Kobolds." He made a sort of diagonal slash in the air with one hand. "If'n ye was to keep north a lil' bit instead of straight east, ya might slip right between the tower and the trees, and get up inta the valley. Used t'be a Human fort up there," here he chuckled, "til we sacked it! But dem li'l lizards done dug all under it, and them bastards is trouble an' a half if ya ain't used to 'em. Shame too, was good ore up there."
He now began packing up the rest of his belongings. Two tied goblins hung over his saddle along with his bags and re-folded net, while he held the lead chain and dragged Rags, the swordsgoblin, and the one whose frying pan had been shoved on his head like a blindfold.
"Oh, an' there's a small one down south, in a big cave. That one's got a nasty Bugbear leadin' it--he's a chump, dumb as rocks, but for li'l'uns like you he'd be--"
"Demigob! Dun let 'im takes us!" Rags Nar suddenly bawled. The other two goblins were sniveling as well. "We dun wanna be Orc slaves! I'll gives ya anyting ya want, I promises dis time--"
Guze's punch split Rags Nar's lip again, and he loomed over the goblin in a way all too familiar to Digbie when he thought about his father.
"It'd be a waste ta kill ya, Mukh, but if'n I thinks yer gonna be trouble I might be persuaded!" Then he turned back to the group, and that stormcloud dissolved from his face like it had never been there. "Oh yeah, and speakin' of ore earlier. If any of yas wanna get betta pay for helpin' out again..." The orc grinned under his hood, and jabbed a thumb over his shoulder towards the destroyed mountain. "Ghordosh Clan is gettin' ready fer one helluva scrap wif dem beardy Mukhs! If that Demigoblin of yers was really responsible for a Great Demon blowin' up that mountain, then ya gots big thanks from me and mines!" He pointed at Digbie. "You, ya gots some nice spells! Non'a this prancy chantin', just straight up blastin'! Ya'd make a good shaman--if'n ya wanna be an Orc, just c'mon up! And we got otha stuff fer the rest of yas. Money, food, whateva ya want! If we ain't got it," He winked at them, "we'll beat up some shmuck what does! Hahaha!"
Still laughing, Guze the Orc waved farewell as he patted his Cariblade on the rump. With his captives in tow, he headed back west and slightly south into the forest...
LEVEL UP! Your combined experiences have culminated in new power! Your Max MP has increased! You are now Level 10! You gain Skill Points to distribute as you please!
Unspent Skill Points: 11[[OOC: 5 from level up, 1 left over from last time, Christmas+NewYear+HiatusApology bonuses]]
Current Skills:
Stun Stinger II (2.1)
Poison Spray II (2.025)
Alchemy II (2.875)
Overwork III (3.3)
Charisma I (1.65)
Venom Shot II (2.0)
Crafting I (1.8)
Lesser Force II (2.225)
Magic Analysis III (3.20625)
Alert I (1.35)
Lesser Flight I (1.5)
Muffle I (1.65)
Monster Analysis II (2.8)
Material Analysis II (2.95)
Meditate II (2.35)
Poison Glob I (1.2)
Poison Breath I (1.05)
Plant Analysis I (1.1)
Tremor Sense I (1.05)
Mana Orb II (2.175)
Shield I (1.05)
Mana Slice I (1.7)
Mana Shape I (1.6)
Analysis (--)
Rabid Fit I (1.05)
Mental Resistance I (1.5)
Mana Vision I (1.75)
Mana Sense II (2.075)
Minor Heal I (1.2)
Prehensile Tail (--)
Poison Splash I (1.3)
Dual Cast I (1.2)
Mana Control I (1.2)
Stronger I (1.3)
<UNUSABLE>
Blunt Resistance (0.2)
Scribe (0.6)
Faster (0.3)
Intimidate (0.8)
Acid Volley (0.1)
Venom Claw (0.4)
Dragon Affinity (0.45) <CANNOT BE INCREASED WITH SKILL POINTS>
Slash (0.5)
Fireball (0.2)
Dextrous (0.7)
Mana Dart (0.4)
Use Light Equipment (0.2)
Minor Heal All (0.1)
Iron Gullet (0.3)
Poison Slash (0.2)
Mana Drain (0.6)
Lucid Dream (0.2)
Skewer (0.4)
Memor Eyes (0.1)
Stone Shot (0.1)
Dragon Lung (0.1)
Deception (0.2)
Stealth Kill (0.1)
YOUR BODY IS BEGINNING TO CHANGE! You are undergoing Transformation! Based on your life experiences, your ability to survive, and the strength of your will, new paths have appeared! Choose carefully--there is no going back! WARNING. THIS PROCESS WILL LEAVE YOU TEMPORARILY VULNERABLE.
OPTIONS (* Indicates Suitability):
*(Adult) Pygmy Drake - Stunted, pesky cousins of greater drake species, this creature has a poisonous stinger on its tail rather than a breath weapon and glides more than it flies. Nonetheless it is somewhat clever, and mages sometimes keep it the way someone might keep a pet bird.
- Very Slight increase to all base stats
- Increase Potential
- Increase MP
- Increase Lesser Flight
- Increase Mana Orb and Dragon Affinity (reduced)
**(Adolescent)[Winged] Kobold (High Variant Chance) - Small, reptilian creatures with odd primate characteristics like upright spines and grasping limbs. Quite similar to Goblins, often competing with them for the same territories and resources. Some individuals have other characteristics--the Winged Kobolds are often said to have Draconic power in their veins, and are often revered in their tribes.
- Slight increase to speed-related stats
- Increase Light Equipment Skill (reduced)
- Gain Access to Job System: 0th Tier
(Adolescent)[Winged] Lesserwurm (High Variant Chance) - Related to dragons, but still a cold-blooded reptile, this creature burrows through the earth and fills the enclosed spaces around its prey with poisonous fumes. Its lengthy body is quite fast and deceptively strong, and its ability to shed its skin somehow allows it to heal more quickly. Some individuals have other characteristics--the Winged Lesserwurms are one step closer to their draconic cousins.
- Lose hind limbs
- Increase to base speed-stats
- Slight increase to base power-stats
- Increase Minor Recovery (reduced)
- Increase Poison Breath (reduced)
(Adolescent) [Brute] Drake (Guaranteed Variant Chance) - A subspecies of dragons that many believe was once domesticated in the past, bred to be manageable by their tamers but still retain some of their ancestor's power. Larger than the biggest dogs and about as long as most men are tall, this broad shouldered and heavily built, quadruped drake has no wings but is incredibly strong and tough. Its scales can be compared to chain mail, its claws to well honed knives, and its jaw can crush bone as easily as the human jaw crushes a piece of fruit.
- Increase Dragon Affinity (reduced)
- Increase Chosen Breath (Options: Poison, Acid, Mana) (reduced)
- Increase base power and defensive stats
- Lose Wings. Lesser Flight Skill locked.
**(Adolescent) [Winged] Drake (Guaranteed Variant Chance) - A subspecies of dragons that many believe was once domesticated in the past, bred to be manageable by their tamers but still retain some of their ancestor's power. Though Drakes are normally quite brutish, every so often one of lither build retains its wings. However, this comes with a drawback that its body is not as heavily muscled and its scale layers are lighter. One could argue, though, that with more growth it is the closest type of drake to a true dragon's potential.
- Increase Lesser Flight
- Increase Chosen Breath (Options: Poison, Acid, Mana)(reduced)
- Increase Dragon Affinity (reduced)
(Adolescent) Lesser Wyvern (High Variant Chance) - Wyverns are already considered degenerated forms of primitive draconic species, but these smaller creatures are even further from the root of mighty dragons. Like many reptiles, Wyverns grow in proportion to their environment, so these creatures are often found in areas where a normal-sized Wyvern wouldn't have enough resources to support itself. Their stingers are potent, however, and they are swift fliers.
- Greatly Increase Lesser Flight
- Increase Poison Stinger
- Very Slight increase to all base stats
LEVEL UP! Your combined experiences have culminated in new power! Your Max MP has increased! You earn Skill Points to distribute as you please! You are now Level 9!
Unspent Skill Points: 10[[OOC: Normal 5+accumulated Bonuses]]
Current Skills:
**Use Light Equipment (--)
Tremor Sense III (3.275)
-Soil Manipulation II (2.8875)
Stone Shot II (2.125)
Taboo I (1.0)
*Stronger I (1.5)
**Sacred Ground II (2.375)
Rock Spire II (2.2)
Earth Affinity I (1.3)
Meditate I (1.5)
Earth Vein II (2.425)
-Spell Chant I (1.2)
Monster Analysis I (1.2875)
Material Analysis I (1.9)
Plant Analysis I (1.37)
*Mental Resistance I (1.1)
Fortify I (1.1)
*Mana Orb II (2.175)
**Shield II (2.55)
Overwork I (1.8)
Mana Affinity I (1.05)
Magic Analysis I (1.95)
Analysis (--)
**Earth Wall II (2.2)
*Minor Heal I (1.4)
Guidance I (1.9)
*Dual Cast I (1.15)
<UNUSABLE>
Quake (0.5)
Crafting (0.8)
*Point Strike (0.7)
*Smash (0.7)
Throw Item (0.4)
Charisma (0.6)
*Mana Strike (0.6)
Focus (0.6)
Stone Fist (0.6)
*Stone Breaker (0.6)
Intimidate (0.6)
-Scribe (0.2)
*Fire Resistance (0.3)
Demon Affinity (0.25)
Underground Movement (0.5)
**Use Medium Equipment (0.2)
Faster (0.3)
Alert (0.2)
Pacify Animal (0.3)
Inspire (0.3)
Lucid Dream (0.2)
Spiritual Awareness (0.1)
Lesser Cleanse (0.2)
Iron Gullet (0.1)
Wall (0.2)
Mana Shape (0.3)
Deception (0.4)
Charm (0.2)
Mana Drain (0.1)
Rabid Fit (0.2)
Mana Surge (0.1)
Condense Earth (0.1)
[[OOC: Hopefully Oberon and Torrent aren't discouraged, Oberon is 80% to his next level and Torrent is 60% of the way in case you wanna call up the System or something.]]
