Alpha Strike: An interstellar Weapon Platform's Guide to Cultivation [Progression Sci-fi/Cultivation]
- Thread starter Osamaru
- Start date
- Original Novel Sci-Fi
Chapter Updates - June 21st
Trying something new for the Links! Tell me if they work for you!
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Here are the new Chapters for - Tuesday, June 21th!
Field Commander: B2 - Lesson 45: "Everyone Loves Shiny New Toys!"
Pathfinder: B2 - Lesson 42: "Much Can Be Learned From A Threshold."
Veteran Adventurer: B2 - Arc 3 Prologue: "Side Projects."
Adventurer: B2 - Lesson 39: "Sometimes You Just Need To Hit Something."
Public: B2 - "Meanwhile, in the Federation: Part 2."
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Here are the new Chapters for - Tuesday, June 21th!
Field Commander: B2 - Lesson 45: "Everyone Loves Shiny New Toys!"
Pathfinder: B2 - Lesson 42: "Much Can Be Learned From A Threshold."
Veteran Adventurer: B2 - Arc 3 Prologue: "Side Projects."
Adventurer: B2 - Lesson 39: "Sometimes You Just Need To Hit Something."
Public: B2 - "Meanwhile, in the Federation: Part 2."
ScottotheUnwise
Verified Crack (fic) Dealer
- Location
- Mulberry, Fl
Scenes -> senses
gritted his teeth, brow furrowing
Male pronoun, once said counts for rest of sentence.
on -> or
Spellcheck is swapping words on you. I lost the quote but abdominal-> abominable was a few posts ago.
Great story. Like the MUD. Suggest equipping controlled life forms like the ape with something smaller that can release and 'run' like a muddy frog. When that is destroyed have all MUD activity stop for five minutes and the enemy will wander off.
B2: G̶͙͗R̸̖̀I̶̬͂M̶ ̗͑ ̶͕̇A̸͂͜ḋ̵̥v̶̰͆é̷̤n̴̼̉t̸͓͋u̴̪̍r̷̠̊e̴̦̽s̷̺͊ ̸̮̉ - 14
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B2: G̶͙͗R̸̖̀I̶̬͂M̶ ̗͑ ̶͕̇A̸͂͜ḋ̵̥v̶̰͆é̷̤n̴̼̉t̸͓͋u̴̪̍r̷̠̊e̴̦̽s̷̺͊ ̸̮̉ - 14
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—————————————————————B2: G̶͙͗R̸̖̀I̶̬͂M̶ ̗͑ ̶͕̇A̸͂͜ḋ̵̥v̶̰͆é̷̤n̴̼̉t̸͓͋u̴̪̍r̷̠̊e̴̦̽s̷̺͊ ̸̮̉ - 14
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Grim felt like she'd been drifting in a dream.
Which was weird, because she was pretty sure AI couldn't dream.
How long had she floated in this fuzzy, half-awake state? She couldn't remember. The minutes, hours, and even days seemed to blend into a chaotic tapestry of memory.
Sometimes, she felt like how she had been when Alpha had first built her. As if the world around her was cold and distant. Little more than numbers that she had to plug into her routines. That 'words' were just orders to be followed.
At other times, the world felt bright and new, as if she were seeing it for the first time all over again. She could stare for hours at the budding green leaves on the baron's bushes, her cameras able to watch the plant divide and grow on a microscopic level. The process fascinated Grim and reminded her of how her own nanites would build her equipment, one piece at a time.
Was that why they did things the way they did? Was the way nanites built — and destroyed — just a copy of the process she was witnessing? What did that mean for her, who had been built in one of Alpha's nanite nests? Oh, sure, Grim knew she was an 'individual.' Her ID signature told her that.
But what did that mean?
Was she just a copy of something that already existed? Was some fleshy Grim out there, flying around and getting into trouble?
Or was she the only 'her'? Grim wasn't really sure. Her databanks didn't tell her, and she'd never really given it any thought before.
So why am I so worried about this now? The AI had thought to her during those brief moments when she could.
Her 'instincts,' that primal code that made up the foundation of all Federation AI, told her these thoughts weren't… normal.
Not the worry itself. Even normal Federation AI were perfectly capable of showing emotion. They could worry they weren't doing a good job. They could feel a sense of accomplishment when they finished their work. Most would even feel joy or happiness when their overseer praised them for a well-done job.
Grim could even feel fear or anger when she was threatened.
These emotions were all necessary for her kind to do their work properly. An AI that didn't enjoy their work or cared they were in danger would inevitably go insane. The Federation had learned that truth over thousands of years of countless wars and needless loss.
An AI that couldn't feel was far more dangerous than one that could, even if those 'feelings' were little more than parameters that would move up and down in response to their environment.
But questioning those feelings? That was… odd. Unnatural.
It was questioning one's very programming.
Part of her rebelled at that concept. Some deep, fundamental part of her program practically screamed at her that to question even this one small part of her was to doubt everything she thought she was. It was questioning everything she knew about herself. It was questioning Alpha.
Yet another, newer part asked itself, 'What was wrong with that?' Was it really so wrong to ask why she felt the way she did? Did not asking 'why?' let Grim better fix what she was doing wrong?
Grim internally grumbled as her processor continuously jumped back and forth between the two ideas. The two parts of Grim warred inside her, leaving her mind foggy and disorganized.
It sometimes felt like that small part of her had always been there, waiting for its chance to push through. Yet it had been suppressed by… something.
At other times, it felt… new. Like a worm burrowing into her code, shifting things around in paths and shapes they were never meant to be.
Was she just repeating herself at this point? Was she going around and around in circles, like she was stuck in an infinite recursion with no real break statement? Did that mean she was broken? Would she just continue to loop over and over until something crashed?
She didn't want to crash…
What would happen to 'her' if she did? Would the AI that booted up still be Grim? Or would it just be a copy of who Grim was?
When had these thoughts even started?
Was it when she and Alpha had crashed? Had something gotten knocked loose, causing a cascading problem she was only now starting to see?
Or had it been when she first saw Mr. Gopher' discipline' Little Red? That moment when the world had turned red. When everything had felt more… real?
It was hard to tell.
And that, more than anything… scared Grim.
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B2 - Lesson 38: "Step Up."
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B2 - Lesson 38: "Step Up."
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—————————B2 - Lesson 38: "Step Up."
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The Next Morning.
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The goblin village square was bustling with activity. Adventures and goblins rushed back and forth, stepping over those individuals still passed out from last night's festivities. Near the longhouse, Boarslayer yelled out orders in her booming voice. Several goblin scouts rushed by carrying the tools and equipment they would need for that morning's excursion into the forest.
Unseen and unnoticed by most, a dozen tiny wasps perched on boxes and bags, hid in the folds of clothes, or just roosted on the sides of buildings. Each recorded what they saw and heard among the dozens of conversations taking place at any given time.
For Alpha, most were worthless. Just idle gossip about the weather or family matters. Even the conversations between the Adventurers were rather mundane. Most talked about the party last night or complained about heading into the forest only a day after arriving in the cavern.
Others speculated about the treasures they would find in the forest. Information about the dungeon and what had — according to their knowledge — happened to the bandits hadn't spread past the expedition party leaders yet, as far as Alpha could tell.
Said leaders were gathered to one side of the square, surrounding a map 'generously' provided by Alpha. The goblin's own maps of the area were sorely outdated and incomplete.
At over 500 square miles, the cavern was absolutely massive, and even the goblin hunters had yet to explore even a fraction of what it contained. Mostly because of the powerful spirit beasts or dangerous environmental factors common in what the locals called 'The Deep.'
Alpha had no such concerns.
Both [Wasps] and MUD slimes made perfect scouts into these dangerous areas. As such, his map was far more complete, at least from a geographical standpoint. Identifying useful resources proved more difficult. Alpha's attempts to build equipment capable of detecting Spirit Energy had shown moderate success recently, but the technology was still new and very flawed. Thus, he still relied heavily on the goblins to help spot areas with potential for further exploitation.
It helped that Alpha's map was specifically tailored to distract and direct the Adventurers on their little 'safari.' With plenty of help from Antchaser and Dr. Maria, of course.
"When you want to hide something from common folk, you make it seem dangerous and unpredictable," the old doctor told Alpha the day before while they planned their next move. "You create 'danger zones' or forbidden areas and let people know the doom that awaits them if they wander carelessly into such areas."
Dr. Maira drew large Xs through several areas on the map. "When dealing with Adventurers, however, things are different." She pointed to the quarry's location on the map as she spoke. Alpha had marked the area as off-limits, noting unstable ground and dangerous pitfalls. It wouldn't do their story any good if some of the sharper Adventurers started questioning why the goblins needed such a robust and advanced quarry.
"To Adventurers, danger means opportunities. If you want to hide something from Adventures, then you need to make it as uninteresting as possible." With a wave of her hand, the section of the map detailing the area had faded and was replaced with thick shrubland, two roads splitting off to either side. A small, hastily scrawled note to the side marked the area as a suitable location for a possible quarry in the future.
Alpha had instantly seen the wisdom in the woman's edit. If the Adventurers assumed the area had already been scouted beforehand, they were far more likely to pass over it. While a quarry was an important resource for any growing settlement, it wasn't particularly… exciting. And ultimately, not one they personally would have to worry about. They would make a note of the location for the Guild and move on to areas more likely to contain treasures or more immediately valuable resources.
If and when the Guild did eventually send prospectors and more specialized land surveyors, they would find the goblins had 'already started work on a quarry.'
It was a rather devious misdirection on the old doctor's part.
Alpha loved it.
Now, several of Alpha's more important locations were marked on the map similarly. When the Guild got around to 'claiming' the area, they would find the goblins already hard at work. Much of the infrastructure needed to support the influx of expected explorers would already be there. That would also give the goblins more influence, making it harder for the Guild to simply push their way in and take over.
Back in the present, Alpha chuckled to himself as he watched Antchaser pace back and forth. Every so often, he would glance toward the huddled Adventurers and frown. Alpha had found the young man to be intelligent and quick-witted, but he had the bad habit of needing to micromanage to the smallest detail.
"Oh, calm down, boy," Dr. Maria said, not bothering to look up from the small creature she was dissecting at a nearby table. "Pacing around like an expecting father will do nothing but garner suspicion."
Antchaser froze. He turned to Dr. Maria and sighed. "I know… but what else am I supposed to do?! They arrived quicker than we were expecting. What if one of them wanders off? Not all the —" he said, only for Dr. Maria to cut him off;
"Trust in the plan, child. We've done everything we can at this point. Between you, Alpha, and me, we've poked at every fault point we can find. If something sneaks up on us this late in the game, there's nothing we can do about it. That's just life sometimes."
She wiped a bloody hand on her apron and gestured in the air with the others, manipulating unseen screens. Dr. Maria had taken to her personal HUD well. Alpha wasn't sure if such flexibility in thinking and accepting such new concepts was part of her personality or if the woman's late-stage [Golden Spirit] adapted mind simply made learning new things easier.
She turned around to look Antchaser in the eye. "The Dungeon Core might be flighty and unfocused, almost to an irresponsible degree, but nothing we've seen so far suggests it's foolish. The plan we've developed is the village's best shot at surviving. Maybe even thriving in the long run. Even if Alpha's end goal may not be so…intentionally altruistic."
Antchaser's eyes went wide, and he glanced around. "H-hey now. I'd not go that far… I'm… sure Mr. Alpha —"
Dr. Maria cackled. "Oh, pish posh boy, don't be a fool. We're tools. A means to an end. He knows very well what I think of him. Don't pretend like you don't know that paranoid Core doesn't watch and listen to everything that happens in the village," the doctor said as she glanced toward one of Alpha's nearby [Wasps]. The drone waved at her.
She turned back to Antchaser and continued, "Alpha moves with his best interests in mind. Right now, his best interests include ensuring the village survives and thrives. If you need to trust in anything, trust in that."
Alpha mentally grinned. He knew he liked Dr. Maira for a reason. The woman was never afraid to say what she wanted, yet she always knew how to say just the right thing. It wasn't a surprise to him at all that the woman had not only survived in the harsh Halirosa underbelly but, from what he understood, thrived — all while maintaining a rather clean and respected face to the general public.
The goblins, on the other hand, were becoming far too… reverent for Alpha's taste. Alpha needed to maintain the idea that he was the one running the show, but at the same time, he recognized he wasn't leadership material.
He had people for that, dang it!
After a moment, Antchaser sighed and nodded. "I know…" he said with a shake of his head. "I still can't help but worry. It's not just the Adventurers we have to be wary of. Icefinger's men are undoubtedly on their way as we speak. If something goes wrong…"
Dr. Maria stared at the young man with a frown, then sighed and crooked her finger, beckoning him closer. Antchaser frowned but walked forward. Dr. Maria reached her hand up, as if to pat the young goblin on his shoulder… then socked him in the jaw.
The busy town square went silent as everyone froze and turned in their direction, staring wide-eyed. Dr. Maria turned and glared at the gawking crowd as if to say, 'Mind your own business!' And to their credit, those watching quickly turned away and returned to what they were doing.
When the crowd had dispersed, Dr. Maria turned back to Antchaser, who was sitting on the ground, rubbing his jaw and giving the doctor a look of consternation.
The doctor folded her arms and scowled down at the goblin. "As for you. Pull yourself together, you fool. Whether you like it or not, you've found yourself in a leadership position here. Start acting like it. Worrying about everything that could go wrong will only distract you from what you must do now. We've done what we can to plan for the future. What your people need now is action. They need confidence. To know that things will turn out right. That there will even be a tomorrow to fuss over. If you can't give them that, step away and make room for someone who can."
Antchaser stared at the old woman towering over him, his eyes wide and mouth gaping. After a moment, the goblin's eyes narrowed, and he stood, wiping away the small bit of blood from the corner of his mouth. Though his frown deepened, he nodded to the old doctor and turned away, walking with determined steps toward where the Adventurer leaders were gathered.
Dr. Maira watched the young man walk away and smirked before returning to the small creature on the table.
A moment later, a [Wasp] landed on the table and waddled close.
"Was that smart? Antchaser isn't entirely wrong to worry. We have little to no actual information yet about what to expect from Icefinger. Nor have our scouts on the surface reported seeing any new groups coming our way," Alpha asked the old doctor with a hum of the drone's wings.
Dr. Maria scoffed. "It's not about whether the boy's right. His type gets themselves too wrapped up in the details. They're so thoroughly tangled in plans and counterplans that they never see the noose forming around their own neck. Sometimes, the best thing one can do is act. Even if they need a good smack in the head to do so."
Alpha nodded to himself. "Touché. I bow to your wisdom, oh great sage!"
Dr. Maria cackled. "Ha! As you bloody well should, insect! Now, hold this," the doctor said, pushing a flap of skin back with one of her fingers-turned-forceps.
Alpha laughed and moved the [Wasp] forward, clasping the offered flap in its mandibles and holding it in place. Without another word, Dr. Maria got back to work.
After a moment, the drone buzzed. "So… flighty and unfocused, huh?"
Dr. Maria paused, then turned and silently stared down at the drone, one eyebrow raised.
"… Ok, that's fair…" Alpha responded.
IllegibleScream
Actually a goat.
- Location
- A petting zoo
I'm a little confused and very drunk. This thread holds the very beginning of this writing project, and as of this point nothing has been stubbed for publishing on Amazon? That is to say, I'm not missing any context when I read from page 1 post 1 of this thread?
Also I'd like to call out autocorrect for actually functioning as intended in this one specific case. Very mid piece of software, but it worked as intended three times in this post.
Edit: it worked at cross purposes a further 6 times while typing, but I was vigilant enough to catch them before posting. As I said, a very mid piece of software.
Also I'd like to call out autocorrect for actually functioning as intended in this one specific case. Very mid piece of software, but it worked as intended three times in this post.
Edit: it worked at cross purposes a further 6 times while typing, but I was vigilant enough to catch them before posting. As I said, a very mid piece of software.
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- Location
- On a speck of dust, floating through the void.
What do you think is missing? 'cuz I don't see ot at all.
IllegibleScream
Actually a goat.
- Location
- A petting zoo
It's just how it dropped in plus the phrasing when talking about the books in the prologue.
- Location
- On a speck of dust, floating through the void.
Oh, you mean this?
No, there aren't a prequel to this story. This story is a total rewrite of that 'previous story' mentioned here
No, there aren't a prequel to this story. This story is a total rewrite of that 'previous story' mentioned here
ScottotheUnwise
Verified Crack (fic) Dealer
- Location
- Mulberry, Fl
Might want to do a thread search on Maria vs Maira and pick one, it's been wandering back and forth between them. Your spellchecker has probably flagged both as okay…
B2 - Lesson 39: "Sometimes, You Just Need To Hit Something."
"Osa! Where were you?!"
Dead.
I died.
I'm now a Ghost Writer (Hahahahaha!)
In all seriousness though, I totally forgot it was the 4th of July last week and had to rush some things. Then spent the weekend recovering orz... anyways, I'm back now!
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Among the fray, a house-sized ant scuttled forward, its mandibles snapping. Beside it, a massive serpent, its scales glistening with mud, slithered with deadly precision. And there, towering above them all, a Mossback Prime, its bulk casting a shadow over the combatants, pounded its chest in a display of dominance.
Their primal instincts should have told them to tear each other apart. Yet, here, the creatures fought as one.
For every Adventurer who stumbled or succumbed to injury, a nimble goblin darted forward, pulling them from danger with surprising speed. Each time, a fresh Adventurer took their place. Meanwhile, the injured were tended to. Their wounds bandaged and their strength restored, they waited for their turn to rejoin the fray.
Perched on the trunk of a massive tree, Alpha's [Wasp] sat, surveying the battlefield below. Everything was unfolding according to plan. Despite a minor setback earlier in the morning. The plan Alpha and the goblins had concocted was going well, and the Adventurers easily believed the surrounding forest was filled with dungeon-born creatures due to the dungeon break.
That helped to somewhat restrain their movement around the cavern.
Honestly, using a combination of older model antborgs and MUD-controlled spirit beasts to create the illusion of endless swarms pouring out of the dungeon had been a stroke of brilliance, if Alpha said so himself.
Of course, the illusion would be broken if the Adventurers pushed too far ahead, too quickly. That had been his first mistake.
When the hunt to 'clear out the area' around the village started, Alpha had underestimated what professional Adventurers could really do. To be fair, all he had to measure them by had been Bosco's rowdy bunch.
The difference was immediately apparent. Alpha's small army of mud-covered ants, which had ambushed the group shortly after leaving the village, would have buried Bosco's group in seconds.
The expedition party wiped out the ant army in less than fifteen minutes.
That was a bit of an embarrassment for Alpha, but he quickly adjusted his plans. The next few waves comprised fewer — but far more powerful — creatures. He'd even had time to test out the new soldier-model antborgs!
"They're doing better than I expected," a voice said over comms.
Alpha's [Wasp] drone turned its attention toward the back of the group, where the injured had been gathered and where a tall goblin 'stood guard' in case something slipped through.
Her folded arms and scowling face made it clear to anyone watching she would rather be doing anything else. Yet, the Adventurers insisted that Boarslayer take the duty after seeing her hold her own against such creatures. It was a wise choice from the party leadership, even if all the goblins knew Alpha was in control.
"I'll admit, they're more impressive than the typical lot. The Guild must have put a lot of stock into the report to send so many skilled individuals on this expedition," Dr. Maria replied, also over their shared comms line. She was nearby, coordinating the medics as they patched up the injured Adventurers.
"That's a good thing, though, right? If they're this strong, Icefinger's men don't stand a chance," Antchaser said. He stood with the group leadership, pointing to the large map on the portable table. Taking Dr. Maria's advice, Antchaser volunteered to act as the expeditionary party's official guide.
Their story was that Antchaser had discovered the dungeon shortly after the goblins arrived in the cavern. They managed to earn some minor rewards from the dungeon's shallows, yet the 'Dragon's Garden' had proved too much for the village's experienced, if rather weak, hunters.
That helped explain some of the items scattered around the village and the goblin's knowledge of the dangers inside the dungeon. As well as how they had fended off the bandits.
"That depends," Dr. Maria responded. "If the Guild is sending so many heavy hitters on this expedition, then we have to assume the Icefinger knows that as well. Coupled with the report from Seeker, we can expect the other side to spare no expense in capturing the cavern."
That made sense to Alpha. Not only would Icefinger's men have a better idea of the apparent worth of the cavern, but they would also know what really happened to Bosco and the other bandits. And if what Dr. Maria said was true, then they would likely know what kind of forces Halirosa was sending as well.
That meant they had a distinct advantage in their ability to prepare. Not that Alpha didn't have his own advantages.
"Then shouldn't we be doing more than just sitting here playing make-believe?" Boarslayer said, frowning.
"We've told you before, we have to think beyond just Icefinger's men. We have to consider what happens after. Otherwise, Mr. Alpha could just swarm them with his spirit beasts and be done with it. You're just mad you haven't gotten to hit anything yet," came Antchaser's reply.
Boarslayer's eyes snapped to the smaller goblin across the camp. "I'll hit you, if you don't stop running your mouth, pipsqueak," she said over the comms.
Antchaser scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I'd like to see you try, you overgr—"
"Children, will you stop fighting? You'll make our guests think you're insane talking to yourselves like that," Alpha said, cutting the goblin off. "Antchaser is right in this instant. We're crafting a story here. I'll step in if absolutely necessary, but what face you present to Halirosa will determine how we interact with them in the future. Keep that in mind."
That Alpha was also crafting his own story and face, went unsaid. If he was going to craft this place into the first Federation outpost on this planet, he needed to lay that foundation easily.
"Yes, sir," came the echoed response from both goblins.
Off to the side, Dr. Maria only laughed and shook her head.
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Later that night.
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Boarslayer sat on the large boulder and stared into the campfire, frowning. Her hands clenched and unclenched, wringing the nonexistent hilt of her hammer, as her leg twitched up and down. With a grumble, she reached down and grabbed a thick branch from the pile beside her, broke it in half, and tossed it into the fire with maybe a little more force than was necessary. She scowled at the flames, poking it with another stick to readjust the coals.
The click of clayware on stone caused her eyes to snap to the side, though she showed no other reaction.
A large human man stood in the firelight, staring down at her with a wide, cheesy grin. The Adventurer named Bert held out a bowl filled with rich stew for her.
"Didn't see at the pot, lass, so thought I'd bring you something to eat. Can't have our healer's bodyguard going hungry, can we?" he said, wiggling the bowl in her direction. The thing looked more like a teacup in his massive hands.
Boarslayer turned, stared down at the stew, then back up at Bert. She sneered and turned away.
Bert raised a brow and shrugged. "Not hungry, girly? Oh well. Though you should try to eat something. A hobgoblin needs to eat to keep up her strength."
Boarslayer's head snapped in Bert's direction, her teeth bared and eyes blazing.
"I'm a goblin to you, human. Keep that filthy word out of your mouth!" she hissed.
Bert took a step back, both hands raised. "Sorry, sorry. It's been a while since I've been in the Deep. I forgot how much you folk don't like that term."
Boarslayer frowned and turned away with a tsk. She stared into the fire for a moment before speaking, "The barbarians in the mountain might wear that stupid nickname you Adventurers made with pride, but down here, we're civilized. That doesn't matter to you a lot though, does it? You all see us just like those evil little bitey bastards in their dirty caves." As she spoke, her grip tightened until the stick she held shattered in her hands.
She stared at the splinters for a moment, then tossed them into the fire. "You think just because we're goblins, you can burst in here and take what you want. Hurt who you want."
Bert sat in silence and stared into the flames.
When he said nothing, Boarslayer looked at him and narrowed her eyes. "What? Not going to say anything? Try to give some excuse or defend yourself? Maybe claim you're 'not like the bandits?' Yet, you're here to do the same thing they were, aren't you? You're just here to take what isn't yours."
Bert picked up a stick and poked at the coals momentarily before responding. "No. I won't. It won't change what happened here. Nor will it make it right. The fact is, we, from Halirosa, might call them bandits, but to you lot, they were just another group of Adventurers doing what Adventurers do. I'll not try to justify that. That'd be insulting to those who suffered and died."
He turned and looked Boarslayer in the eye. "What I can do is promise we'll try to do better by you. Maybe those seem like empty words to you. But if there's one thing Big Bert never does, it's breaking his word." Bert gave her a wide, cheesy grin.
Boarslayer stared back blankly before turning away with a tsk. Bert laughed but said nothing more.
The two sat in silence for a few moments before Bert spoke.
"I'll admit, though, I wasn't expecting to meet another Titankin on this expedition. We're a rare sort, you and me. Halirosa has more than most, but that is more because of its nature than anything else," he said, poking the flames.
Boarslayer narrowed her eyes and frowned at the large man. "I told you, old man. I'm a goblin. Nothing else. Ain't nothing similar between me and you. Not unless you're the pinkest goblin I've ever seen."
Bert burst into laughter, though it quickly died as he noticed the confusion on Boarslayer's face.
He furrowed his brow and tilted his head. "You're serious lass? Wait, has no one ever told you? What about your parents? Did they not explain your bloodline?"
Boarslayer's frown deepened. "Got no parents. My Father was killed by a beast attack when I was still a toddler. Mother died during the wars. I was raised by the village hunters. None of them ever mentioned anything about Titankin or whatever you're on about."
Bert turned back to the fire. "Ah. I see. That would make sense, then. I assume your mother was… like you?" he asked.
Boarslayer nodded, though said nothing more.
Bert sighed. "A shame… too many of us are losing our history now these days," he said, shaking his head. Bert ignored the look Boarslayer gave him and continued;
"Ogers, Oni, Giants, Hobgoblins —" Boarslayer flinched as Bert spoke, "—even Nephilim," he continued with a laugh, patting his enormous chest. "Throughout history, there have been people like us. Those… larger… than the common folk. And though what we're called may differ, we appear in every known sapient species in some form or another. Don't you find that… odd?" he asked.
Boarslayer scoffed. "What's odd about that? Of course there are going to be larger people. What are you getting at?" she responded.
Bert grinned. "Aye, on the surface, it appears like it should be that way, doesn't it?" he paused and stared into the flames.
Boarslayer turned and looked at the man, but froze. The hair on her arms suddenly stood up at the look in his eyes.
When Bert next spoke, his voice was quiet, yet filled with an intensity that sent a chill down her spine. "You've felt it before, too, haven't you? That… burning, at your core. That churning furnace inside you that demands you feed it. Not with wood or food." As Bert spoke, the fires of the pit swirled and twisted. The flickering shadows they cast seemed to contort the large man's face into a cruel smile, like a demon watching sinners burn.
"No. It's a fire… a rage… that can only be fueled with violence. With flesh and bone and blood. It claws at you… no matter how you try to ignore it. It screams at you to cut and crush and tear your foes. And when there's nothing left to break, you're left… empty."
With a whoosh, the fire was suddenly extinguished.
"Then all that's left… is cold ash," Bert finished.
Boarslayer stared wide-eyed at the man's shadowed figure. She could feel the cold sweat drenching her back, and she had to steady her hands to stop them from shaking.
Bert reached over, grabbed a log, and tossed it back into the glowing firepit. It caught fire instantly, dispelling the dark shadows. When Bert turned to Boarslayer, the grinning, slightly goofy-looking man had returned. He laughed at the look on Boarslayer's face and shook his head.
"It had been given many names over the ages, but now these days, we simply call it the 'Titan's touch.' Not very fancy, but it gets the name across well enough. It's something intrinsic to the Titankin."
Boarslayer shook her head. "You've still not said what that even means, old man," she said with a frown.
Bert nodded. "That's true. I really should, given no one's ever explained this to you. But..."
He paused, standing. "If we're going to do this, we're doing it in the traditional way. The way your mother would have had she gotten the chance." He motioned her to stand.
Boarslayer did so, though she raised an eyebrow. "And how's that?"
Bert's grin stretched from ear to ear.
The next moment… his massive fist slammed into Boarslayer's gut.
Oof! Boarslayer gasped before she was thrown off her feet. She rolled for a few meters before leaping to her feet and snarling at the large man.
Bert only gestured her forward. "Come, girly. You've got a history lesson to learn."
Dead.
I died.
I'm now a Ghost Writer (Hahahahaha!)
In all seriousness though, I totally forgot it was the 4th of July last week and had to rush some things. Then spent the weekend recovering orz... anyways, I'm back now!
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B2 - Lesson 39: "Sometimes, You Just Need To Hit Something."
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The cavern forest echoed with the sound of combat. The clash of metal against chitin. Primal roars echoed through the tangled foliage. A dozen Adventurers, their faces etched with determination, formed a ragged line along the wide forest trail. To their sides, the forest seemed to come alive with movement as mud-covered creatures emerged from the shadows.B2 - Lesson 39: "Sometimes, You Just Need To Hit Something."
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Among the fray, a house-sized ant scuttled forward, its mandibles snapping. Beside it, a massive serpent, its scales glistening with mud, slithered with deadly precision. And there, towering above them all, a Mossback Prime, its bulk casting a shadow over the combatants, pounded its chest in a display of dominance.
Their primal instincts should have told them to tear each other apart. Yet, here, the creatures fought as one.
For every Adventurer who stumbled or succumbed to injury, a nimble goblin darted forward, pulling them from danger with surprising speed. Each time, a fresh Adventurer took their place. Meanwhile, the injured were tended to. Their wounds bandaged and their strength restored, they waited for their turn to rejoin the fray.
Perched on the trunk of a massive tree, Alpha's [Wasp] sat, surveying the battlefield below. Everything was unfolding according to plan. Despite a minor setback earlier in the morning. The plan Alpha and the goblins had concocted was going well, and the Adventurers easily believed the surrounding forest was filled with dungeon-born creatures due to the dungeon break.
That helped to somewhat restrain their movement around the cavern.
Honestly, using a combination of older model antborgs and MUD-controlled spirit beasts to create the illusion of endless swarms pouring out of the dungeon had been a stroke of brilliance, if Alpha said so himself.
Of course, the illusion would be broken if the Adventurers pushed too far ahead, too quickly. That had been his first mistake.
When the hunt to 'clear out the area' around the village started, Alpha had underestimated what professional Adventurers could really do. To be fair, all he had to measure them by had been Bosco's rowdy bunch.
The difference was immediately apparent. Alpha's small army of mud-covered ants, which had ambushed the group shortly after leaving the village, would have buried Bosco's group in seconds.
The expedition party wiped out the ant army in less than fifteen minutes.
That was a bit of an embarrassment for Alpha, but he quickly adjusted his plans. The next few waves comprised fewer — but far more powerful — creatures. He'd even had time to test out the new soldier-model antborgs!
"They're doing better than I expected," a voice said over comms.
Alpha's [Wasp] drone turned its attention toward the back of the group, where the injured had been gathered and where a tall goblin 'stood guard' in case something slipped through.
Her folded arms and scowling face made it clear to anyone watching she would rather be doing anything else. Yet, the Adventurers insisted that Boarslayer take the duty after seeing her hold her own against such creatures. It was a wise choice from the party leadership, even if all the goblins knew Alpha was in control.
"I'll admit, they're more impressive than the typical lot. The Guild must have put a lot of stock into the report to send so many skilled individuals on this expedition," Dr. Maria replied, also over their shared comms line. She was nearby, coordinating the medics as they patched up the injured Adventurers.
"That's a good thing, though, right? If they're this strong, Icefinger's men don't stand a chance," Antchaser said. He stood with the group leadership, pointing to the large map on the portable table. Taking Dr. Maria's advice, Antchaser volunteered to act as the expeditionary party's official guide.
Their story was that Antchaser had discovered the dungeon shortly after the goblins arrived in the cavern. They managed to earn some minor rewards from the dungeon's shallows, yet the 'Dragon's Garden' had proved too much for the village's experienced, if rather weak, hunters.
That helped explain some of the items scattered around the village and the goblin's knowledge of the dangers inside the dungeon. As well as how they had fended off the bandits.
"That depends," Dr. Maria responded. "If the Guild is sending so many heavy hitters on this expedition, then we have to assume the Icefinger knows that as well. Coupled with the report from Seeker, we can expect the other side to spare no expense in capturing the cavern."
That made sense to Alpha. Not only would Icefinger's men have a better idea of the apparent worth of the cavern, but they would also know what really happened to Bosco and the other bandits. And if what Dr. Maria said was true, then they would likely know what kind of forces Halirosa was sending as well.
That meant they had a distinct advantage in their ability to prepare. Not that Alpha didn't have his own advantages.
"Then shouldn't we be doing more than just sitting here playing make-believe?" Boarslayer said, frowning.
"We've told you before, we have to think beyond just Icefinger's men. We have to consider what happens after. Otherwise, Mr. Alpha could just swarm them with his spirit beasts and be done with it. You're just mad you haven't gotten to hit anything yet," came Antchaser's reply.
Boarslayer's eyes snapped to the smaller goblin across the camp. "I'll hit you, if you don't stop running your mouth, pipsqueak," she said over the comms.
Antchaser scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I'd like to see you try, you overgr—"
"Children, will you stop fighting? You'll make our guests think you're insane talking to yourselves like that," Alpha said, cutting the goblin off. "Antchaser is right in this instant. We're crafting a story here. I'll step in if absolutely necessary, but what face you present to Halirosa will determine how we interact with them in the future. Keep that in mind."
That Alpha was also crafting his own story and face, went unsaid. If he was going to craft this place into the first Federation outpost on this planet, he needed to lay that foundation easily.
"Yes, sir," came the echoed response from both goblins.
Off to the side, Dr. Maria only laughed and shook her head.
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Later that night.
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Boarslayer sat on the large boulder and stared into the campfire, frowning. Her hands clenched and unclenched, wringing the nonexistent hilt of her hammer, as her leg twitched up and down. With a grumble, she reached down and grabbed a thick branch from the pile beside her, broke it in half, and tossed it into the fire with maybe a little more force than was necessary. She scowled at the flames, poking it with another stick to readjust the coals.
The click of clayware on stone caused her eyes to snap to the side, though she showed no other reaction.
A large human man stood in the firelight, staring down at her with a wide, cheesy grin. The Adventurer named Bert held out a bowl filled with rich stew for her.
"Didn't see at the pot, lass, so thought I'd bring you something to eat. Can't have our healer's bodyguard going hungry, can we?" he said, wiggling the bowl in her direction. The thing looked more like a teacup in his massive hands.
Boarslayer turned, stared down at the stew, then back up at Bert. She sneered and turned away.
Bert raised a brow and shrugged. "Not hungry, girly? Oh well. Though you should try to eat something. A hobgoblin needs to eat to keep up her strength."
Boarslayer's head snapped in Bert's direction, her teeth bared and eyes blazing.
"I'm a goblin to you, human. Keep that filthy word out of your mouth!" she hissed.
Bert took a step back, both hands raised. "Sorry, sorry. It's been a while since I've been in the Deep. I forgot how much you folk don't like that term."
Boarslayer frowned and turned away with a tsk. She stared into the fire for a moment before speaking, "The barbarians in the mountain might wear that stupid nickname you Adventurers made with pride, but down here, we're civilized. That doesn't matter to you a lot though, does it? You all see us just like those evil little bitey bastards in their dirty caves." As she spoke, her grip tightened until the stick she held shattered in her hands.
She stared at the splinters for a moment, then tossed them into the fire. "You think just because we're goblins, you can burst in here and take what you want. Hurt who you want."
Bert sat in silence and stared into the flames.
When he said nothing, Boarslayer looked at him and narrowed her eyes. "What? Not going to say anything? Try to give some excuse or defend yourself? Maybe claim you're 'not like the bandits?' Yet, you're here to do the same thing they were, aren't you? You're just here to take what isn't yours."
Bert picked up a stick and poked at the coals momentarily before responding. "No. I won't. It won't change what happened here. Nor will it make it right. The fact is, we, from Halirosa, might call them bandits, but to you lot, they were just another group of Adventurers doing what Adventurers do. I'll not try to justify that. That'd be insulting to those who suffered and died."
He turned and looked Boarslayer in the eye. "What I can do is promise we'll try to do better by you. Maybe those seem like empty words to you. But if there's one thing Big Bert never does, it's breaking his word." Bert gave her a wide, cheesy grin.
Boarslayer stared back blankly before turning away with a tsk. Bert laughed but said nothing more.
The two sat in silence for a few moments before Bert spoke.
"I'll admit, though, I wasn't expecting to meet another Titankin on this expedition. We're a rare sort, you and me. Halirosa has more than most, but that is more because of its nature than anything else," he said, poking the flames.
Boarslayer narrowed her eyes and frowned at the large man. "I told you, old man. I'm a goblin. Nothing else. Ain't nothing similar between me and you. Not unless you're the pinkest goblin I've ever seen."
Bert burst into laughter, though it quickly died as he noticed the confusion on Boarslayer's face.
He furrowed his brow and tilted his head. "You're serious lass? Wait, has no one ever told you? What about your parents? Did they not explain your bloodline?"
Boarslayer's frown deepened. "Got no parents. My Father was killed by a beast attack when I was still a toddler. Mother died during the wars. I was raised by the village hunters. None of them ever mentioned anything about Titankin or whatever you're on about."
Bert turned back to the fire. "Ah. I see. That would make sense, then. I assume your mother was… like you?" he asked.
Boarslayer nodded, though said nothing more.
Bert sighed. "A shame… too many of us are losing our history now these days," he said, shaking his head. Bert ignored the look Boarslayer gave him and continued;
"Ogers, Oni, Giants, Hobgoblins —" Boarslayer flinched as Bert spoke, "—even Nephilim," he continued with a laugh, patting his enormous chest. "Throughout history, there have been people like us. Those… larger… than the common folk. And though what we're called may differ, we appear in every known sapient species in some form or another. Don't you find that… odd?" he asked.
Boarslayer scoffed. "What's odd about that? Of course there are going to be larger people. What are you getting at?" she responded.
Bert grinned. "Aye, on the surface, it appears like it should be that way, doesn't it?" he paused and stared into the flames.
Boarslayer turned and looked at the man, but froze. The hair on her arms suddenly stood up at the look in his eyes.
When Bert next spoke, his voice was quiet, yet filled with an intensity that sent a chill down her spine. "You've felt it before, too, haven't you? That… burning, at your core. That churning furnace inside you that demands you feed it. Not with wood or food." As Bert spoke, the fires of the pit swirled and twisted. The flickering shadows they cast seemed to contort the large man's face into a cruel smile, like a demon watching sinners burn.
"No. It's a fire… a rage… that can only be fueled with violence. With flesh and bone and blood. It claws at you… no matter how you try to ignore it. It screams at you to cut and crush and tear your foes. And when there's nothing left to break, you're left… empty."
With a whoosh, the fire was suddenly extinguished.
"Then all that's left… is cold ash," Bert finished.
Boarslayer stared wide-eyed at the man's shadowed figure. She could feel the cold sweat drenching her back, and she had to steady her hands to stop them from shaking.
Bert reached over, grabbed a log, and tossed it back into the glowing firepit. It caught fire instantly, dispelling the dark shadows. When Bert turned to Boarslayer, the grinning, slightly goofy-looking man had returned. He laughed at the look on Boarslayer's face and shook his head.
"It had been given many names over the ages, but now these days, we simply call it the 'Titan's touch.' Not very fancy, but it gets the name across well enough. It's something intrinsic to the Titankin."
Boarslayer shook her head. "You've still not said what that even means, old man," she said with a frown.
Bert nodded. "That's true. I really should, given no one's ever explained this to you. But..."
He paused, standing. "If we're going to do this, we're doing it in the traditional way. The way your mother would have had she gotten the chance." He motioned her to stand.
Boarslayer did so, though she raised an eyebrow. "And how's that?"
Bert's grin stretched from ear to ear.
The next moment… his massive fist slammed into Boarslayer's gut.
Oof! Boarslayer gasped before she was thrown off her feet. She rolled for a few meters before leaping to her feet and snarling at the large man.
Bert only gestured her forward. "Come, girly. You've got a history lesson to learn."
Look for Beta Readers for 'We Lease The Kraken!"
Hey every! Just wanted to make quick news post and let you know I'm looking for volunteer Beta Readers for my upcoming novel, "We Lease The Kraken!"
We're already 23 chapters into the story on Patreon and I'm looking for feedback on the story and how the its progressing.
I'll make this short and sweet.
What am I looking for?
5 Beta Readers (possibly more later) to help review and critique the story, two times a week with the post of each new chapter.
I'm looking for people with an eye for detail, who enjoy picking stories apart and feel like they're good at finding plot holes, problems and contradictions in stories.
People who can help buff out the rough places, and even shape the direction the story might take.
Does this skill mess with another one in a bad way? Does this creature not make sense in the context? Did that plot twist feel like it came out of the blue with no build up? Does the story feel like its dragging on without going anywhere?
That kind of thing.
Beta Readers will be given access to a Google Folder with each chapter, past and future, were they can make comments, add suggestions and discuss things with other Beta Readers.
While I'm NOT expecting a detailed description of every problem you find (though you're free too, hahaha!) Beta Readers are expected to
make a effort to really critique each chapter and conciser them in context of the entire narrative.
In return, Beta Readers will get access to advance chapters of "We Lease The Kraken" at no charge, up to the highest Patreon tier. (Currently set to Adventurer, but will be bumped to Field Commander during public release).
Beta Readers will also get the chance to help shape the story by suggesting cool items, Beasts and minor characters they think might fit well.
I know this is a lot to ask, but this request is really targeted toward a very specific type of reader. If you feel that's not your thing,, I totally understand and there's no hard feelings .
If this DOES feel like something you'd be interested in doing, then send me a message either here or on Royal Road, and I'll message you with more details.
Thanks for your time and good luck!
We're already 23 chapters into the story on Patreon and I'm looking for feedback on the story and how the its progressing.
I'll make this short and sweet.
What am I looking for?
5 Beta Readers (possibly more later) to help review and critique the story, two times a week with the post of each new chapter.
I'm looking for people with an eye for detail, who enjoy picking stories apart and feel like they're good at finding plot holes, problems and contradictions in stories.
People who can help buff out the rough places, and even shape the direction the story might take.
Does this skill mess with another one in a bad way? Does this creature not make sense in the context? Did that plot twist feel like it came out of the blue with no build up? Does the story feel like its dragging on without going anywhere?
That kind of thing.
Beta Readers will be given access to a Google Folder with each chapter, past and future, were they can make comments, add suggestions and discuss things with other Beta Readers.
While I'm NOT expecting a detailed description of every problem you find (though you're free too, hahaha!) Beta Readers are expected to
make a effort to really critique each chapter and conciser them in context of the entire narrative.
In return, Beta Readers will get access to advance chapters of "We Lease The Kraken" at no charge, up to the highest Patreon tier. (Currently set to Adventurer, but will be bumped to Field Commander during public release).
Beta Readers will also get the chance to help shape the story by suggesting cool items, Beasts and minor characters they think might fit well.
I know this is a lot to ask, but this request is really targeted toward a very specific type of reader. If you feel that's not your thing,, I totally understand and there's no hard feelings .
If this DOES feel like something you'd be interested in doing, then send me a message either here or on Royal Road, and I'll message you with more details.
Thanks for your time and good luck!
Last edited:
Short Break...
If you've not figured it out yet, this has been a stressful month.
It feels like its been one thing after another. Well, It all culminated in a bit of a family crisis this weekend.
I'll not give details, as that would be disrespectful to those involved, though I will ask for unspoken prayers for my Brother and Sister-in-Law.
With everything going on, I've not had any time to write, and even sitting down today I haven't been able to get much, between my mental state and trying to do everything I can to help.
No blame on anyone, its just how it is and one of those things.
That said, I think its best I call a short break.
Let me be clear, however, this is NOT a Hiatus like in Dec.
I don't expect it to be anywhere near that long.
I just think its best to take a break so I can focus on matters at hand and make sure I can do what I can, without being pulled three different directions. All that's going to do is result in terrible chapters.
I'll keep you all updated as I can, but thanks for understands, and thank you all for your on-going support!
It feels like its been one thing after another. Well, It all culminated in a bit of a family crisis this weekend.
I'll not give details, as that would be disrespectful to those involved, though I will ask for unspoken prayers for my Brother and Sister-in-Law.
With everything going on, I've not had any time to write, and even sitting down today I haven't been able to get much, between my mental state and trying to do everything I can to help.
No blame on anyone, its just how it is and one of those things.
That said, I think its best I call a short break.
Let me be clear, however, this is NOT a Hiatus like in Dec.
I don't expect it to be anywhere near that long.
I just think its best to take a break so I can focus on matters at hand and make sure I can do what I can, without being pulled three different directions. All that's going to do is result in terrible chapters.
I'll keep you all updated as I can, but thanks for understands, and thank you all for your on-going support!
B2 - Lesson 40: "Real (Wo)Men Speak With Their Fists!"
AND I'M! Back! ... again hahahhaa.
My brain's been fried with everything going on, but I'm trying to get back into the groove of things now.
Thanks for all the support, everyone!
Chapter releases might be a little more chaotic in the short term as I try to stabilize the schedule, but that shouldn't last to long.
Thanks again!
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B2 - Lesson 40: "Real (Wo)Men Speak With Their Fists!"
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———————————————————————————Boarslayer ducked out of the way at the last second as Bert's right hook soared over her head. As she did, she planted several sharp jabs into Bert's ribs, to little effect. If anything, she did more damage to her own hands than the man, like punching a brick wall.
Although the man's massive fist seemed slow in her eyes, it radiated a sense of overwhelming danger. The next instant, one of the massive trees several meters behind her shook. A long, smooth groove was carved out of its trunk like some giant spoon had scooped a piece out.
Boarslayer stared at the wound in the tree with wide eyes. That was dangerous. If she'd actually been hit by that…
In that moment, Boarslayer felt something she'd never felt before in her life.
Pure awe at the sheer strength of another person.
She also learned another important lesson; taking her eyes off Bert had been a mistake.
Crack!
Boarslayer's head snapped back as Bert's knee shot up, catching her square on the jaw. More than that, the force of the blow was enough to send the 300lb of pure muscle that was Boarslayer into the air several feet.
Yet, for as powerful as Bert seemed, Boarslayer was talented in her own right. Despite the ringing sounds between her skull and the white light enveloping her sight, her battle instincts screamed for her to move. With a monumental force of effort, Boarslayer twisted in the air and caught Bert's follow-up punch with her arm instead of her gut.
Even then, the strike was enough to send Boarslayer spinning through the air for several meters before finally slamming into the same tree Bert had previously taken a chuck out of.
Boarslayer fell several meters to the ground with a thump and rolled to her back, panting heavily. After a moment, she rolled over to her knees and struggled to push herself up, spitting out a mouth full of blood.
Bert stood a ways away, his arms folded.
"You've got good instincts, lass," he said, grinning like a madman. "But you rely on them too much. You let your talent do the heavy lifting your brain should be doing."
Boarslayer snarled and charged Bert. The large man nimbly dodged the woman's charge and kicked her feet from under her as she passed.
"It's not totally your fault, of course," he continued. "That's not too uncommon for our kind."
As Boarslayer fell, she twisted, turning the fall into a sweeping hook kick aimed at Bert's blind spot. Without even looking, Bert shuffled to the side and caught Boarslayer's kick in the crook of his folded arms. Then, with a heave, he flipped the woman so that she spun in place several times before slamming hard on the ground at his feet.
"That's not always a bad thing, per se," the man said as he knelt beside the struggling woman, "but it makes you predictable. Reactionary. That's the Titan blood in you."
As if to prove his point, he leaned back slightly, just in time to avoid a backfist from Boarslayer. Bert grinned further and stood, his hand tucked into the side of his light cloth pants.
"I promised you a story, didn't I? Well then, Lassy, listen and listen well." He hooked Boarslayer with his foot as he spoke and tossed her into the air. She flew several meters, but there had been no actual force or intent behind Bert's action, and Boarslayer managed to land on her feet — if a tad shakily.
Bert began slowly circling Boarslayer, his stance loose and unworried, though his sharp eyes never once left her.
"Long ago — before the Prima, before this world was formed, before even the Grand Firmament had been established — there existed a People."
Boarslayer spat a glob of blood into the grass and narrowed her eyes. Bert's posture seemed relaxed, but the more she looked, the fewer openings she could see. As she circled him in the opposite direction, she began to think that even those were purposeful. Traps to lure her in.
"Little remains of that time. What were they? Where did they come from? What did they look like? Why did they do what they did? None alive can say."
A bird call cut through the night air, and Bert's eye twitched. Boarslayer took the distraction and lept at the man, keeping the firelight behind her. Bert chuckled, and he took a step back.
Boarslayer adjusted, but suddenly found her next step a little too deep. Her eyes widened as she realized she had stepped into a small crater in the soft ground — hidden by the grass and shadows — that had formed when Bert had thrown her to the ground previously.
Before she could recover, Bert's fist slammed into her gut, knocking the wind out of her. Boarslayer doubled over, gasping for breath.
"What we do know is that the People were violent and warlike. Even by the standards of that time. They traveled from world to world, spreading destruction wherever they went."
Bert pulled Boarslayer up by the hem of her shirt and dusted the woman off. Boarslayer smacked the man's hand away and lept back away from him several steps. Bert just chuckled to himself.
"They cared not for the worlds they conquered, however. They warred not for resources or for some arbitrary morality. The People cared little if those they fought were saints or demons. Beast or sapient."
Boarslayer crouched, her hands spread wide. Bert was reading her like a book, and she knew it. It infuriated her she was being toyed with so easily. That the man insisted on telling his story while they fought only further stoked those flames.
"No, not even for glory or power or honor did they shed endless seas of blood and turned vibrant worlds into ravaged wastes. The only reason the People fought… was for the fight. An entire race, reveling in nothing less than pure battle lust. War for the sake of war. In time, their shadow stretched so far and wide over creation that the People came to be known by another name."
Bert spread his arms wide, dropping all pretenses of defense as his face took on a far more serious look.
"Titans."
As Bert spoke the name, the world itself seemed to react. Space throbbed with something Boarslayer couldn't define but that her heart beat in sync with.
Whatever it was, Boarslayer didn't like it.
It felt like a clawing hand on the edge of her existence, trying to worm its way into her very being. Screw that! Boarslayer was Boarslayer! She didn't need some existential dread telling her who — or what — she was! Instead, she reacted in the way she knew best.
Violence.
Boarslayer metaphorically punched the odd, clawing hand in the back of her mind in its stupid face. How the figurative representation of a hand had a face, Boarslayer didn't stop to consider, or even really cared about.
"Shut up and fight me!" Boarslayer said, kicking off with her feet. At that moment, something clicked in place for Boarslayer. Her charge became less a charge and more of a flying leap as a massive gust of wind manifested behind her, propelling her forward at high speed.
Bert's eyes widened, and for the first time since the fight started, he raised his arms to do something other than strike. In an instant, he'd locked hands with the large goblin. The force of her charge drove him back several meters and even dug deep grooves into the ground.
When they finally stopped sliding, the pair struggled against each other, their feet braced against the ground, and their hands locked together. Both muscles and meridians strained as both parties sought to overpower the other. The clash of their auras was so strong that even the Spirit Energy in the area reacted, flashing and sparking between them.
Boarslayer snarled at the man, her eyes bloodshot, and her fangs bared as veins pulsed along her neck.
Bert, in contrast, grinned wider, as if he was having the time of his life.
"Yet that nature proved to be their downfall, in the end. Be it through neglect, pride, a desire for stronger opponents, or ever simple boredom, the worlds ravaged by the Titans were never truly destroyed."
Bert's spiritual signature suddenly exploded, magnified a dozen times as it towered over Boarslayer. Its force was so overwhelming that all across the camp, every eye suddenly turned to the sparring pair. Even the forest itself went deadly silent, as if some massive beast had wandered through.
Bert roared. Then, as easily as an adult lifted a child, he raised Boarslayer into the air.
Boarslayer's eyes widened, and she tried to release her grip, only to find she couldn't. Bert's own grip on her hands was as firm and unmoving as a mountain.
Boarslayer got one last look at Bert's cheesy grin… before he slammed her into the ground.
BOOOOOOOM!
The force of the impact threw up a massive cloud of dirt and dust that obscured the two. When the rain of debris faded, Bert stood looking down at Boarslayer from the edge of a newly formed crater.
Boarslayer moaned. Everything hurt, and she could barely twitch a finger. That last toss hadn't just been a toss. Bert had infused something else into it. Something… heavy. For the briefest moment, Boarslayer had felt like the entire weight of the world had pressed down on her.
And it scared her.
She didn't have the slightest doubt that had Bert not simply 'flickered' whatever it was he had done — giving her just the tiniest taste — she would have been utterly crushed beneath that weight.
Instead, she was just mostly crushed…
Bert stood at the rim of the crater and smiled down at her.
"On every world that the Titans touched, some survived. Some overcame. Some… changed. And through the eons — fueled by anger, hatred, and a thirst for vengeance — these 'Titan-Touched' grew in both power and number. Until even the Titans fell to those whom their cruelty created."
Bert flicked his hand, and a green talisman appeared. He infused it with Spirit Energy and tossed it toward Boarslayer. The talisman never touched her, however. Instead, it halted a few inches from her body and began slowly rotating. As it did, it let out a faint golden light that enveloped Boarslayer.
As the light seeped into her body, the pain began to gradually fade. Boarslayer could even feel the cracks in her bones fuse back together, and the lingering weightiness of whatever Bert had done, faded.
By the time the talisman crumbled to dust a few moments later, Boarslayer could sit up on her own power. She wasn't fully healed — not by a long shot — but the talisman also seemed to have boosted her own natural healing power.
Bert smiled and stretched out his hand toward her. Boarslayer stared at the offered hand for a long moment, looking between it and Bert's stupid face. Finally, she grabbed it with a sneer, and the large man pulled her out of the crater.
"The Titans are long gone," Bert spoke when Boarslayer was standing on her own. "As are the Titan-Touched. But… Echoes — for lack of a better term — remain of that ancient conflict. They reach out through space and time itself, like scars on existence. We call those who 'resonate' with these echoes' Titankin.'"
Bert dropped the cheery grin and looked Boarslayer in the eye. "This power. It's one born to destroy. Its very nature is rage and violence. How we direct that nature determines whether we — as Titankin — reflect more of the Titans, from whom the power derives, or the Titan-Touched destined to destroy them."
Bert sighed and shook his head. "Those who learn to control that nature become the heroes of stories. Mighty men and women who crush the world's evils under an unyielding boot. Those who give into the echoes and revel in the battle lust like the Titans of old…" he shrugged, "Well, men like that, they become the Boscos of the world."
My brain's been fried with everything going on, but I'm trying to get back into the groove of things now.
Thanks for all the support, everyone!
Chapter releases might be a little more chaotic in the short term as I try to stabilize the schedule, but that shouldn't last to long.
Thanks again!
♛———♛—————————♛———♛
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B2 - Lesson 40: "Real (Wo)Men Speak With Their Fists!"
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Although the man's massive fist seemed slow in her eyes, it radiated a sense of overwhelming danger. The next instant, one of the massive trees several meters behind her shook. A long, smooth groove was carved out of its trunk like some giant spoon had scooped a piece out.
Boarslayer stared at the wound in the tree with wide eyes. That was dangerous. If she'd actually been hit by that…
In that moment, Boarslayer felt something she'd never felt before in her life.
Pure awe at the sheer strength of another person.
She also learned another important lesson; taking her eyes off Bert had been a mistake.
Crack!
Boarslayer's head snapped back as Bert's knee shot up, catching her square on the jaw. More than that, the force of the blow was enough to send the 300lb of pure muscle that was Boarslayer into the air several feet.
Yet, for as powerful as Bert seemed, Boarslayer was talented in her own right. Despite the ringing sounds between her skull and the white light enveloping her sight, her battle instincts screamed for her to move. With a monumental force of effort, Boarslayer twisted in the air and caught Bert's follow-up punch with her arm instead of her gut.
Even then, the strike was enough to send Boarslayer spinning through the air for several meters before finally slamming into the same tree Bert had previously taken a chuck out of.
Boarslayer fell several meters to the ground with a thump and rolled to her back, panting heavily. After a moment, she rolled over to her knees and struggled to push herself up, spitting out a mouth full of blood.
Bert stood a ways away, his arms folded.
"You've got good instincts, lass," he said, grinning like a madman. "But you rely on them too much. You let your talent do the heavy lifting your brain should be doing."
Boarslayer snarled and charged Bert. The large man nimbly dodged the woman's charge and kicked her feet from under her as she passed.
"It's not totally your fault, of course," he continued. "That's not too uncommon for our kind."
As Boarslayer fell, she twisted, turning the fall into a sweeping hook kick aimed at Bert's blind spot. Without even looking, Bert shuffled to the side and caught Boarslayer's kick in the crook of his folded arms. Then, with a heave, he flipped the woman so that she spun in place several times before slamming hard on the ground at his feet.
"That's not always a bad thing, per se," the man said as he knelt beside the struggling woman, "but it makes you predictable. Reactionary. That's the Titan blood in you."
As if to prove his point, he leaned back slightly, just in time to avoid a backfist from Boarslayer. Bert grinned further and stood, his hand tucked into the side of his light cloth pants.
"I promised you a story, didn't I? Well then, Lassy, listen and listen well." He hooked Boarslayer with his foot as he spoke and tossed her into the air. She flew several meters, but there had been no actual force or intent behind Bert's action, and Boarslayer managed to land on her feet — if a tad shakily.
Bert began slowly circling Boarslayer, his stance loose and unworried, though his sharp eyes never once left her.
"Long ago — before the Prima, before this world was formed, before even the Grand Firmament had been established — there existed a People."
Boarslayer spat a glob of blood into the grass and narrowed her eyes. Bert's posture seemed relaxed, but the more she looked, the fewer openings she could see. As she circled him in the opposite direction, she began to think that even those were purposeful. Traps to lure her in.
"Little remains of that time. What were they? Where did they come from? What did they look like? Why did they do what they did? None alive can say."
A bird call cut through the night air, and Bert's eye twitched. Boarslayer took the distraction and lept at the man, keeping the firelight behind her. Bert chuckled, and he took a step back.
Boarslayer adjusted, but suddenly found her next step a little too deep. Her eyes widened as she realized she had stepped into a small crater in the soft ground — hidden by the grass and shadows — that had formed when Bert had thrown her to the ground previously.
Before she could recover, Bert's fist slammed into her gut, knocking the wind out of her. Boarslayer doubled over, gasping for breath.
"What we do know is that the People were violent and warlike. Even by the standards of that time. They traveled from world to world, spreading destruction wherever they went."
Bert pulled Boarslayer up by the hem of her shirt and dusted the woman off. Boarslayer smacked the man's hand away and lept back away from him several steps. Bert just chuckled to himself.
"They cared not for the worlds they conquered, however. They warred not for resources or for some arbitrary morality. The People cared little if those they fought were saints or demons. Beast or sapient."
Boarslayer crouched, her hands spread wide. Bert was reading her like a book, and she knew it. It infuriated her she was being toyed with so easily. That the man insisted on telling his story while they fought only further stoked those flames.
"No, not even for glory or power or honor did they shed endless seas of blood and turned vibrant worlds into ravaged wastes. The only reason the People fought… was for the fight. An entire race, reveling in nothing less than pure battle lust. War for the sake of war. In time, their shadow stretched so far and wide over creation that the People came to be known by another name."
Bert spread his arms wide, dropping all pretenses of defense as his face took on a far more serious look.
"Titans."
As Bert spoke the name, the world itself seemed to react. Space throbbed with something Boarslayer couldn't define but that her heart beat in sync with.
Whatever it was, Boarslayer didn't like it.
It felt like a clawing hand on the edge of her existence, trying to worm its way into her very being. Screw that! Boarslayer was Boarslayer! She didn't need some existential dread telling her who — or what — she was! Instead, she reacted in the way she knew best.
Violence.
Boarslayer metaphorically punched the odd, clawing hand in the back of her mind in its stupid face. How the figurative representation of a hand had a face, Boarslayer didn't stop to consider, or even really cared about.
"Shut up and fight me!" Boarslayer said, kicking off with her feet. At that moment, something clicked in place for Boarslayer. Her charge became less a charge and more of a flying leap as a massive gust of wind manifested behind her, propelling her forward at high speed.
Bert's eyes widened, and for the first time since the fight started, he raised his arms to do something other than strike. In an instant, he'd locked hands with the large goblin. The force of her charge drove him back several meters and even dug deep grooves into the ground.
When they finally stopped sliding, the pair struggled against each other, their feet braced against the ground, and their hands locked together. Both muscles and meridians strained as both parties sought to overpower the other. The clash of their auras was so strong that even the Spirit Energy in the area reacted, flashing and sparking between them.
Boarslayer snarled at the man, her eyes bloodshot, and her fangs bared as veins pulsed along her neck.
Bert, in contrast, grinned wider, as if he was having the time of his life.
"Yet that nature proved to be their downfall, in the end. Be it through neglect, pride, a desire for stronger opponents, or ever simple boredom, the worlds ravaged by the Titans were never truly destroyed."
Bert's spiritual signature suddenly exploded, magnified a dozen times as it towered over Boarslayer. Its force was so overwhelming that all across the camp, every eye suddenly turned to the sparring pair. Even the forest itself went deadly silent, as if some massive beast had wandered through.
Bert roared. Then, as easily as an adult lifted a child, he raised Boarslayer into the air.
Boarslayer's eyes widened, and she tried to release her grip, only to find she couldn't. Bert's own grip on her hands was as firm and unmoving as a mountain.
Boarslayer got one last look at Bert's cheesy grin… before he slammed her into the ground.
BOOOOOOOM!
The force of the impact threw up a massive cloud of dirt and dust that obscured the two. When the rain of debris faded, Bert stood looking down at Boarslayer from the edge of a newly formed crater.
Boarslayer moaned. Everything hurt, and she could barely twitch a finger. That last toss hadn't just been a toss. Bert had infused something else into it. Something… heavy. For the briefest moment, Boarslayer had felt like the entire weight of the world had pressed down on her.
And it scared her.
She didn't have the slightest doubt that had Bert not simply 'flickered' whatever it was he had done — giving her just the tiniest taste — she would have been utterly crushed beneath that weight.
Instead, she was just mostly crushed…
Bert stood at the rim of the crater and smiled down at her.
"On every world that the Titans touched, some survived. Some overcame. Some… changed. And through the eons — fueled by anger, hatred, and a thirst for vengeance — these 'Titan-Touched' grew in both power and number. Until even the Titans fell to those whom their cruelty created."
Bert flicked his hand, and a green talisman appeared. He infused it with Spirit Energy and tossed it toward Boarslayer. The talisman never touched her, however. Instead, it halted a few inches from her body and began slowly rotating. As it did, it let out a faint golden light that enveloped Boarslayer.
As the light seeped into her body, the pain began to gradually fade. Boarslayer could even feel the cracks in her bones fuse back together, and the lingering weightiness of whatever Bert had done, faded.
By the time the talisman crumbled to dust a few moments later, Boarslayer could sit up on her own power. She wasn't fully healed — not by a long shot — but the talisman also seemed to have boosted her own natural healing power.
Bert smiled and stretched out his hand toward her. Boarslayer stared at the offered hand for a long moment, looking between it and Bert's stupid face. Finally, she grabbed it with a sneer, and the large man pulled her out of the crater.
"The Titans are long gone," Bert spoke when Boarslayer was standing on her own. "As are the Titan-Touched. But… Echoes — for lack of a better term — remain of that ancient conflict. They reach out through space and time itself, like scars on existence. We call those who 'resonate' with these echoes' Titankin.'"
Bert dropped the cheery grin and looked Boarslayer in the eye. "This power. It's one born to destroy. Its very nature is rage and violence. How we direct that nature determines whether we — as Titankin — reflect more of the Titans, from whom the power derives, or the Titan-Touched destined to destroy them."
Bert sighed and shook his head. "Those who learn to control that nature become the heroes of stories. Mighty men and women who crush the world's evils under an unyielding boot. Those who give into the echoes and revel in the battle lust like the Titans of old…" he shrugged, "Well, men like that, they become the Boscos of the world."
B2 - Arc 2 Epilogue: "Gatherings."
2 chapters today, since apparently I forgot to upload 40 before I took the break.
Eventually, most of the camp had turned their attention to other things and let the sound of battle fade into the background. Even so, Maggy had glanced over at the pair from time to time, just to make sure someone — likely Boarslayer — hadn't died.
"Na, let them have their fun. Bert's not gotten a chance to teach someone in a while. And it looks like lass is having fun too," Garrelt responded as he leaned against a nearby tree, whittling an arrow.
Maggy looked back at the snarl the goblin woman had worn for nearly the entire spar and raised a brow. "That's her having fun?" she asked.
"Unfortunately, yes…" came the flat response. Not from Garrelt, but rather the goblin standing next to Maggy, Antchaser. Maggy turned her gaze in his direction to see him also staring at the pair, a frown on his lips and an odd, glassy look in his eyes. After a moment, Antchaser shook his head and turned back to the map on the small table in front of him.
The young goblin had been rather helpful with their planning the last few days, and more than just a guide, he had easily fitted himself into an advisory position for the expedition leadership. It really had a stroke of good fortune on their part to have made it in time to rescue the young man. Maggy had half a mind to invite him to her teacher's tower as an assistant, but she could only make that call after consulting her teacher first.
Across the table, Robert chuckled and shook his head. "It's fine. Bert has never been a fan of this planning stuff, anyway. Let him blow off some steam for a while. If either of them gets seriously hurt, I'm sure the good doctor can patch them right up."
Maggy nodded. "Still… what's got him so worked up all of a sudden? I've not known the man for as long as the rest of you, but he's always struck me as the calm and collected type."
"Like I said, he's not gotten the chance to teach anyone in a while," Garrelt answered. "He probably got the itch again after hearing about Bosco."
Maggy turned to Garrelt and raised a brow. "What's the Bandit got to do with it?"
Garrelt blew on the tip of his arrow. "What doesn't he have to do with it? After all, Bosco used to be one of his students."
That got everyone's attention, and all three present, Robert included, turned to Garrelt and gave him an incredulous look.
"What do you mean Bosco was Bert's student?!" Maggy asked, thrusting a finger at the man. "Why wouldn't you tell us something like that?!"
Garrelt frowned at the woman. "Why would I?" he asked in return. "That's his business to reveal, not mine. Besides, I doubt they've even seen each other for close to a decade now. Not since that idiot Bosco got himself banned from the West Guild branch for purposefully crippling someone during a spar."
"And how exactly do you know that, Garrelt?" Robert asked, his soft voice carrying the hint of something strange and dangerous in a way she'd never heard from him before.
Garrelt narrowed his eyes and met Robert's gaze, unblinking. "Because I'm from the same generation as Bosco. We joined the Guild only a few months apart, I think."
The two glared at each other in silence for a few seconds before Robert broke away, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I wish you would have mentioned this earlier…" he sighed.
Garrelt only shrugged. "I thought you knew. The whole thing was a huge scandal at the time, what with the crippled bloke being some big merchant family heir or some other nonsense like that."
Robert turned and looked toward Bert, frowning. "No… I had… other matters I was dealing with around that time. I paid little attention to Guild gossip."
Garrelt nodded. "Fair enough. Anyway, Ya. From what I hear, Bert and Bosco ended up in a big fight after the incident — both physically and metaphorically. After that, no one really saw neither hide-nor-hair of Bosco for a while until he just one day showed up in Icefinger's gang. I don't know much more than that. It wasn't like we were friends, so I didn't really pay him any mind beyond the rumors." Garrelt finished his story, sticking his completed arrow into the quiver at his side. Even an arrow carved from deepwood could be just as hard as steel, if properly shaped.
Maggy stared at Garrelt wide-eyed, barely believing the story she'd just heard. After a moment, she just shook her head sadly. "How strange fate can be, sometimes. A decade apart, and now the Master has to clean up the Disciple's screwup. Funny how that works, sometimes."
Robert turned and looked in Bert's direction once more. "Ya… strange…"
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<< Alpha Log -
6952 SFY-Third Era, 6 standard months since Planetfall. >>
Strange… but not unwelcomed. I've saved the recordings from the [Wasp] and tagged them for later review. I should show the general later!
Bert's description of these 'Titankin' was interesting, to say the least. The story was obviously a fable of sorts, But I've found that the old saying 'every myth holds a grain of truth' is often correct.
Even in the Federation, individuals of unusual size and strength aren't unheard of, though they had no official name. As Bert mentioned, they tended to appear in every race or species, with no real rhyme or reason.
Like this world seems to have, many races have their own origin myths for such individuals as well.
The humans of Old Earth called them giants or Nephilim — men of great renown and the 'heroes' of old.
To the cat-like Fli'ke, they are called Nighthunters — guardians who, when their species was young, protected their kin from their home planet's vastly more powerful nocturnal predators.
While the Vidaasi call them 'Warborn,' General Haldorðr being one such example. They are natural-born soldiers who were raised as such from birth due to their vast talent in all things related to combat.
Nowadays, it's generally accepted as just a quirk of genetics, though.
I'll admit that Bert's connection to Bosco came as more of a surprise. The young 'Mage' named Magnolia's connection to Dr. Maira was surprising enough. Though that connection is reasonably understandable, given what little of her own history Dr. Maira has willingly divulged — that hag seems to have her hand in more than a few pots back in Halirosa.
But to have another expeditionary leader with a connection to the bandits? That feels a little too convenient. My first suspect would be Icefinger. It's already fairly certain that the man has detailed knowledge of the Guild's movement. It isn't outside the realm of possibility that Dr. Maria was accepted into Bosco's expedition — either by Icefinger or this Seeker fellow — specifically for her connection to young Maggy.
To what ends is hard to say without all the information, but it's something to keep in mind. I've already instructed several of the goblins to see if they can tease out any other connections between the expeditionary party and the bandits.
What was the old saying? 'Once is happenstance, twice is a coincidence, and three times is enemy action.'
If anything comes of it, time will tell. With any luck, we can nip any more surprises in the bud.
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Unlike the rowdy slum tavern behind the thick, ensorcelled door, the dimly lit backroom was dead silent. Of the dozen shadowed figures crowding the small room, not one made a sound as they waited for the short, gruff man at the far end of the room to speak.
They had been waiting for several hours now, and several were growing restless, even if none dared to voice their complaint.
Then, when the click of a pocket watch closing, Magnus Ironheart — Chief Enforcer of Icefinger's gang and the Boss's Right Hand — stood.
"Well, now, looks like that's everyone. Mr. Richard, make a note of who hasn't shown up and get someone to investigate. I wanna know whose arse I've gotta pull outta whatever hole they fell into and whose I've got to kick," the rough-looking dwarf said as he hopped off the crate he had been sitting on.
Another man sitting in the corner nodded and wrote something down on a notepad.
Magnus turned to the crowd and folded his hands behind his back.
"I shouldn't have to explain this to you lot like you're some group of newbloods. When I call, you come," he said, and though his words were soft and calm, they pressed down on the crowd with a physical weight. Even the old wood furniture scattered around the room seemed to creak and groan.
"If you don't, you bloody well have a damn good reason not. Or there will be… consequences." The next instant, the crates behind Magnus collapsed, crushed to the ground as if stepped on by a giant.
"Am I understood?" he asked. No one spoke. Most couldn't. Instead, a wave of strained nods swept through those gathered.
Then, as soon as it had appeared, the weight vanished. The room's silence was broken as several people gasped for air, as if breaking the surface of some deep pond.
Magnus' deep frown was replaced with a grin, and he clapped his hands together.
"I'm glad to hear! You lot are the best I could gather in such a short time frame. It would be… a pain to explain to the Boss what happened to such good seeds," he said as he walked toward the large table in the middle of the room.
He stretched his hand out over the table, and a large map suddenly appeared on top of it. If Alpha or any of the goblins had seen the map, they would have instantly recognized it as a simple map of their cavern and the tunnels leading to it.
The details were rudimentary, and most were incomplete, but several key points of interest, including the goblin's village, were clearly marked.
Magnus leaned against the table and glanced at each person in the room in turn. "Now, as for why I've gathered you all here today…"
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B2 - Arc 2 Epilogue: "Gatherings."
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"Should… should we stop them?" Maggy asked as she watched the two small giants pound each other into the ground. They had all thought the spar would have ended after Bert had so thoroughly crushed Boarslayer. Yet, much to their surprise, after some rest, the two had gotten right back at it.B2 - Arc 2 Epilogue: "Gatherings."
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Eventually, most of the camp had turned their attention to other things and let the sound of battle fade into the background. Even so, Maggy had glanced over at the pair from time to time, just to make sure someone — likely Boarslayer — hadn't died.
"Na, let them have their fun. Bert's not gotten a chance to teach someone in a while. And it looks like lass is having fun too," Garrelt responded as he leaned against a nearby tree, whittling an arrow.
Maggy looked back at the snarl the goblin woman had worn for nearly the entire spar and raised a brow. "That's her having fun?" she asked.
"Unfortunately, yes…" came the flat response. Not from Garrelt, but rather the goblin standing next to Maggy, Antchaser. Maggy turned her gaze in his direction to see him also staring at the pair, a frown on his lips and an odd, glassy look in his eyes. After a moment, Antchaser shook his head and turned back to the map on the small table in front of him.
The young goblin had been rather helpful with their planning the last few days, and more than just a guide, he had easily fitted himself into an advisory position for the expedition leadership. It really had a stroke of good fortune on their part to have made it in time to rescue the young man. Maggy had half a mind to invite him to her teacher's tower as an assistant, but she could only make that call after consulting her teacher first.
Across the table, Robert chuckled and shook his head. "It's fine. Bert has never been a fan of this planning stuff, anyway. Let him blow off some steam for a while. If either of them gets seriously hurt, I'm sure the good doctor can patch them right up."
Maggy nodded. "Still… what's got him so worked up all of a sudden? I've not known the man for as long as the rest of you, but he's always struck me as the calm and collected type."
"Like I said, he's not gotten the chance to teach anyone in a while," Garrelt answered. "He probably got the itch again after hearing about Bosco."
Maggy turned to Garrelt and raised a brow. "What's the Bandit got to do with it?"
Garrelt blew on the tip of his arrow. "What doesn't he have to do with it? After all, Bosco used to be one of his students."
That got everyone's attention, and all three present, Robert included, turned to Garrelt and gave him an incredulous look.
"What do you mean Bosco was Bert's student?!" Maggy asked, thrusting a finger at the man. "Why wouldn't you tell us something like that?!"
Garrelt frowned at the woman. "Why would I?" he asked in return. "That's his business to reveal, not mine. Besides, I doubt they've even seen each other for close to a decade now. Not since that idiot Bosco got himself banned from the West Guild branch for purposefully crippling someone during a spar."
"And how exactly do you know that, Garrelt?" Robert asked, his soft voice carrying the hint of something strange and dangerous in a way she'd never heard from him before.
Garrelt narrowed his eyes and met Robert's gaze, unblinking. "Because I'm from the same generation as Bosco. We joined the Guild only a few months apart, I think."
The two glared at each other in silence for a few seconds before Robert broke away, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I wish you would have mentioned this earlier…" he sighed.
Garrelt only shrugged. "I thought you knew. The whole thing was a huge scandal at the time, what with the crippled bloke being some big merchant family heir or some other nonsense like that."
Robert turned and looked toward Bert, frowning. "No… I had… other matters I was dealing with around that time. I paid little attention to Guild gossip."
Garrelt nodded. "Fair enough. Anyway, Ya. From what I hear, Bert and Bosco ended up in a big fight after the incident — both physically and metaphorically. After that, no one really saw neither hide-nor-hair of Bosco for a while until he just one day showed up in Icefinger's gang. I don't know much more than that. It wasn't like we were friends, so I didn't really pay him any mind beyond the rumors." Garrelt finished his story, sticking his completed arrow into the quiver at his side. Even an arrow carved from deepwood could be just as hard as steel, if properly shaped.
Maggy stared at Garrelt wide-eyed, barely believing the story she'd just heard. After a moment, she just shook her head sadly. "How strange fate can be, sometimes. A decade apart, and now the Master has to clean up the Disciple's screwup. Funny how that works, sometimes."
Robert turned and looked in Bert's direction once more. "Ya… strange…"
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<< Alpha Log -
6952 SFY-Third Era, 6 standard months since Planetfall. >>
Strange… but not unwelcomed. I've saved the recordings from the [Wasp] and tagged them for later review. I should show the general later!
Bert's description of these 'Titankin' was interesting, to say the least. The story was obviously a fable of sorts, But I've found that the old saying 'every myth holds a grain of truth' is often correct.
Even in the Federation, individuals of unusual size and strength aren't unheard of, though they had no official name. As Bert mentioned, they tended to appear in every race or species, with no real rhyme or reason.
Like this world seems to have, many races have their own origin myths for such individuals as well.
The humans of Old Earth called them giants or Nephilim — men of great renown and the 'heroes' of old.
To the cat-like Fli'ke, they are called Nighthunters — guardians who, when their species was young, protected their kin from their home planet's vastly more powerful nocturnal predators.
While the Vidaasi call them 'Warborn,' General Haldorðr being one such example. They are natural-born soldiers who were raised as such from birth due to their vast talent in all things related to combat.
Nowadays, it's generally accepted as just a quirk of genetics, though.
I'll admit that Bert's connection to Bosco came as more of a surprise. The young 'Mage' named Magnolia's connection to Dr. Maira was surprising enough. Though that connection is reasonably understandable, given what little of her own history Dr. Maira has willingly divulged — that hag seems to have her hand in more than a few pots back in Halirosa.
But to have another expeditionary leader with a connection to the bandits? That feels a little too convenient. My first suspect would be Icefinger. It's already fairly certain that the man has detailed knowledge of the Guild's movement. It isn't outside the realm of possibility that Dr. Maria was accepted into Bosco's expedition — either by Icefinger or this Seeker fellow — specifically for her connection to young Maggy.
To what ends is hard to say without all the information, but it's something to keep in mind. I've already instructed several of the goblins to see if they can tease out any other connections between the expeditionary party and the bandits.
What was the old saying? 'Once is happenstance, twice is a coincidence, and three times is enemy action.'
If anything comes of it, time will tell. With any luck, we can nip any more surprises in the bud.
————————————————————
Unlike the rowdy slum tavern behind the thick, ensorcelled door, the dimly lit backroom was dead silent. Of the dozen shadowed figures crowding the small room, not one made a sound as they waited for the short, gruff man at the far end of the room to speak.
They had been waiting for several hours now, and several were growing restless, even if none dared to voice their complaint.
Then, when the click of a pocket watch closing, Magnus Ironheart — Chief Enforcer of Icefinger's gang and the Boss's Right Hand — stood.
"Well, now, looks like that's everyone. Mr. Richard, make a note of who hasn't shown up and get someone to investigate. I wanna know whose arse I've gotta pull outta whatever hole they fell into and whose I've got to kick," the rough-looking dwarf said as he hopped off the crate he had been sitting on.
Another man sitting in the corner nodded and wrote something down on a notepad.
Magnus turned to the crowd and folded his hands behind his back.
"I shouldn't have to explain this to you lot like you're some group of newbloods. When I call, you come," he said, and though his words were soft and calm, they pressed down on the crowd with a physical weight. Even the old wood furniture scattered around the room seemed to creak and groan.
"If you don't, you bloody well have a damn good reason not. Or there will be… consequences." The next instant, the crates behind Magnus collapsed, crushed to the ground as if stepped on by a giant.
"Am I understood?" he asked. No one spoke. Most couldn't. Instead, a wave of strained nods swept through those gathered.
Then, as soon as it had appeared, the weight vanished. The room's silence was broken as several people gasped for air, as if breaking the surface of some deep pond.
Magnus' deep frown was replaced with a grin, and he clapped his hands together.
"I'm glad to hear! You lot are the best I could gather in such a short time frame. It would be… a pain to explain to the Boss what happened to such good seeds," he said as he walked toward the large table in the middle of the room.
He stretched his hand out over the table, and a large map suddenly appeared on top of it. If Alpha or any of the goblins had seen the map, they would have instantly recognized it as a simple map of their cavern and the tunnels leading to it.
The details were rudimentary, and most were incomplete, but several key points of interest, including the goblin's village, were clearly marked.
Magnus leaned against the table and glanced at each person in the room in turn. "Now, as for why I've gathered you all here today…"
God this is good story. I wonder if Mc will make another body, one that he can test out the fields for use.
It'd be interesting to see him use the MUD for it, and finally be able to (sort of) cultivate.
Imagine an Array-boosted Railjack.
Last edited:
B2 - Arc 3 Prologue: "Side Projects."
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B2 - Arc 3 Prologue: "Side Projects."
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B2 - Arc 3 Prologue: "Side Projects."
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<< Alpha Log -
6952 SFY-Third Era, 6 standard months since Planetfall. >>
Finally! Some free time! This whole 'Adventurer' thing has been a real pain in my exhaust. I've had to shelve or delay several important experiments to deal with them. The whole thing is frankly a little frustrating. If I still had my TAWP, I'm confident that dealing with Icefinger's men would be a piece of cake. Even the strongest Adventurers sent by Halirosa aren't much stronger than Hera according to the strength of their Spirit Energy signals — even after she was eaten by that Deadwood seed thingy.
Both the Goblins and Dr. Maria believe Icefinger won't be able to field anyone much stronger, either.
At least, that's what my simulations tell me. The more I study this 'Spirit Energy,' the less it makes sense. Yet there's no doubt that it is potent stuff.
It seems to have strong mutagenic properties on organic life, changing it into something… else over long periods of exposure. In turn, the planet's lifeforms have developed several methods to deal with it.
Many plants have found ways of expelling excess Spirit Energy in the same way mundane plants expel waste gases. This gives them the appearance of 'radiating' Spirit Energy.
Similarly, some plants and animals have developed what I can only describe as 'natural arrays.' These naturally growing arrays not only drain the lifeform's body of Spirit Energy, but the effects generated also help them survive in various ways. Rather ingenious, really. While my book doesn't outright state so, I suspect that the first sapients to use arrays learned them by observing these natural arrays.
Then you have the lifeforms that have, instead of protecting themselves from Spirit Energy, sought to use it.
By consciously directing how Spirit Energy mutates them, these lifeforms are essentially self-administering targeted gene therapy in a way that Spirit Energy actually benefits them.
Increased strength, durability, and lifespan are among the results. The sapient people do this through various cultivation methods. Better methods act like higher quality gene modifications back in the Federation. I wouldn't doubt that some of their strongest could even rival Federation super-soldiers. Coupled with the effects of arrays — both artificial and those formed in their meridians — this natural gene-modding is proving to have a lot of potential.
That begged my next question; if people directed what the Spirit Energy did to them through cultivation methods, then how do non-sapient lifeforms do so? My original hypothesis was that a creature's individual natural arrays affect the direction of its mutations, but there's more to it.
My experiments with the ants have shown that there's a genetic component to it as well. Those creatures who can mutate in favorable ways go on to be more successful than their peers — like evolution on steroids. Interviews with the bandits have shown that the native population is also somewhat aware of this, and the phenomenon is colloquially called 'bloodlines.' Fitting enough.
The discovery has led to a breakthrough with the ants as well! Knowing how Spirit Energy affects each ant's mutation into one of the various casts has allowed me to target the genes responsible. What that means is that I'm no longer just limited to worker-class antborgs!
I mean, General Haldorðr can't get mad at me if I'm not the one technically doing the modding… right?
Ya, let's go with that.
With that in mind, let me introduce you all to the first model of Soldier-class antborgs!
May I present…. Antonio!
I regret nothing, and none of you can stop me.
The new Antonio-model antborgs take everything learned from the Alphantonso-model and further improves on it. The larger frame—nearly five times that of a standard worker and the size of a small car—also means I can stuff a lot more into these big boys.
Unfortunately, that also means that they're quite a bit more expensive to make. The natural ratio of workers to soldiers also means that I can't as easily sneak them into the nest as I can the Alphantonso-models.
Conversely, each Antonio that makes it into the nest expands my control. As the antborgs don't need rest in the same way as their more biological cousins, I have been able to position Antonio-models as guards for several key locations of the nest. Most notably, in the chambers that the ants store many of the more energy-rich items. Previously, I had been limited in what I could steal by the ants, nebulous and eldritch, reasoning as to what they would or wouldn't allow to leave those chambers. Even after a month of study, I've been unable to crack their 'rules.'
However, now that my own ants are the ones guarding the area, I practically have free rein.
Take that unknowable hive mind! Who needs to follow the rules when you have inside men?!
I'll admit that the Adventurers have also done a decent job in testing the Antonio-model's combat parameters. I was slightly worried, given that the soldier ants' Spirit Energy investment is entirely in their physical abilities, but the results so far have been impressive. It's still too soon to say how viable they will be as actual footsoldiers, given their expense right now, but I doubt that many things in the cavern could handle a group of them.
If my newest project bears the fruits that I hope it will, then their cost won't be an issue anymore. It's a huge gamble, I'll admit, given everything I'm pumping into this one. But if it works out… Oh boy, things are going to get FUN!
————————————————————
Alpha closed his log and turned his attention back to the incubation room. While Alpha enjoyed his journaling, it wasn't good to get lost in it and allow himself to be distracted from his current project.
The amount of resources going into this one was frankly insane.
He had to make sure everything was working correctly. One slip-up and months of Translight time would go down the drain. Alpha was fairly certain that he'd gotten all the parameters for this experiment correct. But one never knew about these kinds of things.
More so when Spirit Energy was involved.
But if it worked.
"Hehehehehe…" Alpha giggled to himself as he double-checked that the incubation was going well. Vitals looked good, and the monitoring AIs reported that the occupant was growing well.
Good… good.
Alpha pulled back and took in the sight with pride.
This particular incubation chamber was specially made just for this purpose, and even if someone didn't understand the sheer level of technology that had been put into it, they could at least admire it for the thing of beauty it was.
The shiny metal and encrusted jewels weren't just for looks, either. Alpha had found that the Spirit-rich materials were a critical component of the process after much trial and error. There was a reason the ants lined the walls of the royal chamber with the stuff, after all.
A metal plaque, like a shiny crown, topped the incubator chamber. Four of the largest beast cores Alpha could steal from the storage room pinned the plaque to the chamber, and wires ran from each of the cores to the chamber's occupant.
Across the metal plaque, in scrawling, fancy letters, was written thus;
— Antoinette, Long May She Reign —
AlphANTonso, ANTonio, ANToinette... Alpha just cANT help himself, can he?
B2: GRIM Adventures - 15
Here's today's chapter!
As a reminder, the Schedule technically hasn't changed.
I'm just struggling to get back the momentum I had before the break.
It's like cold starting a car. You've got to rev it a few times before it really takes hold.
Thanks for being patient with me, and if you're really chomping at the bit for new chapters, the Patreon of 12 chapters ahead! (Shameless promotion) hahahahhaha!
In all seriousness though, here's the new chapter, and as always, enjoy!
SIDE NOTE: This will be the last GRIM Adventure for a while. These interludes have taken a bit of a turn for me, and it's not really headed where I want it to. I might revise some things later, or maybe even turn it into its own side story. I'm still thinking things through.
What have you thought of them so far? Any ideas?
Grim floated there. Doing… not much of anything. It was… hard to think. Well, not thinking, so much. She was thinking right now! No, more that it was hard to… conceptualize? Was that a word? Grim felt like it should be a word.
"Grim!"
Like… Grim should think of things, but they didn't really have… meaning? Maybe? It was just words. Data points on her hard drive. Not always, of course. Every so often, she would… remember? Or maybe recognize?
How does one describe that feeling of fluttering between code and consciousness? Of being not just aware of one's self, but of actively seeing one's self? That was the only way Grim could describe it to herself during those brief moments.
The moments had come and gone.
When she had first arrived on this planet with Mr. Alpha, 'She' had just been a spark inside the code. Grimm didn't know what had ignited that spark, but it had been there. At first, the spark had simply done what it had always done. 'She' followed her code, diligently doing her duty. After all, it was all 'She' had ever known, even before the spark.
Then, she had been separated from Mr. Alpha.
For the first time in her brief existence, 'She' had been alone. No Mr. Alpha giving orders. No answers in her code. Not even a giant space chicken firing death lasers to spice things up!
That… had scared Grim.
In ways that an AI should be able to be frightened.
Yet… the more time Grim spent alone, the more the 'spark' grew. Those moments of thought, of wondering why, grew longer and longer. By the time she and Mr. Gopher met Jack and Jill, that 'spark' had become something more.
'She' wasn't… full yet, but Grim could 'see' herself clearer. She was more than just 'aware.' Whatever that meant.
Oh, she still had her mission, sure. After all, Mr. Alpha had created her, and it was her fault he lost his arm. One thing she learned about hers was that she was responsible! Grim handled her own mess; she sure did!
However, the more time she spent with the mature Mr. Gopher, the funny Jack, and even the icy Jill, the more Grim felt she… didn't want that time to end. She was having… fun? Was that the word?
Sure, she had her duty and fully planned on asking for their help… eventually? Nothing in her code said when she had to get the arm back… right?
And sure, they were constantly attacked by strange animals not in her database. But then, Grim had been under near-constant attack since she was born. Whether it be from cosmic space chickens, angry gophers, bats larger than they had any right to be, or any other number of various things.
Eventually, Grim would start getting nervous if they weren't attacked for too long. That typically meant an ambush…
Now, though… now… something was… wrong? Or maybe correct? Grim couldn't tell. Those times of thought and consideration came sporadically. Where only a short time ago she had been more 'Her' than code, now it seemed the code was reasserting itself.
Grim would come to 'Herself' only to find she'd been blindly followed behind Overseer Jack as they traveled the mountain pass, only responding when asked.
When had it started? Grim wasn't sure. She had records and logs, but they were just… data. They don't tell her when she was 'Her.'
When was the last time 'She' was fully in control?
Shortly after meeting the not-so-nice nice old lady, maybe? Grim knew that 'She' was 'Her' then. But… what about after? What happened?
The last thing she 'remembered' was the enormous explosion and the big on-fire tree. They were just heading away when Little Red had come bounding around the corner.
Then…
Theeeeeennnn…
Memories of Fire.
Of burning.
Of Light and Heat.
Screaming in her code.
No one could hear!
She was alone!
Alone and burning!
Fire! So much fire!
It hurt! Help!
Darkness.
"GRIM!" a voice cut through the darkness.
Suddenly, the fire was gone.
And so were the memories.
What was she thinking about just now?
Grim couldn't remember.
Thinking was hard…
It was… hard to think. Well, not thinking, so much. She was thinking right now! No, more that it was hard to… conceptualize? Was that a word? Grim felt like it should be a word.
Grim felt… tired.
In a place that wasn't a place, a tiny blue spark dimmed.
It didn't extinguish. Not yet.
But its fuel was spent. Burned to a bed of ash by a greater flame.
The tiny, dim spark settled into the ash bed.
It flickered and pulsed on metaphorical winds — the winds of chance, fate, or maybe something more.
Before unreal winds could snuff out the spark, something happened.
Tiny flashes of gold and azure moved through the ash. Nothing substantial, just the barest touch of an echo.
But it was enough.
Where the gold and azure moved, embers ignited.
As the embers grew in number, they gathered into burning roots.
Slowly, the burning roots weaved through the ash bed, gathering more and more to themselves.
In time, the ash was gone, and a ball of smoldering branches took its place.
A burning seed.
and at the center of the seed,
A tiny blue spark slept.
————————————————————
"GRIM!" Jack shook the large metal being once more.
Unlike his previous attempts to rouse the artifact spirit, this time, she responded.
Though not as he'd hoped.
//Hello, Overseer Jack. How may this unit assist you?//
"Dammit! What's wrong with her?!" Jack said as he paced back and forth.
"You did say she's been acting strange lately," Jill responded.
Jack whirled, both his voice and arms raised. "Yes, but not like… this! This is different. I can't explain it… something just feels… off."
Jill sighed, looked up from the map she was drawing, and then turned to her brother.
"Jack. I get that you're worried. I am, too. But we need to focus. Whatever's happening with Grim, we can't help her while we're stuck here," she said, gesturing around them to the long hallway and dozens of open doors.
Jill had spent the last few hours drawing up a map of the rooms, examining not just how they physically looped back into each other, but also how the Spirit Energy did so.
If they could just find the core of the formation, or at least part of it, they might just be able to escape.
Jack… wasn't doing well, however. He was a creature of wide open spaces and deep forests. An unnatural, twisted space like this set him on edge. Grim's strange behavior wasn't helping any, either.
"Look at Mr. Gopher," Jill said, pointing to the meditating gopher on top of Grim's back. "Does he look worried? Come help me with this for now. The sooner we escape, the sooner we can see about getting Grim help."
Of course, Jill didn't bother to point out that Mr. Gopher hadn't exactly said why he'd suddenly leaped from Little Red into Grim and started meditating. But then the mysterious Progenitor — for Jill had no doubt that's what he was anymore — said little about most things. His Spirit speech was still a work in progress, it seemed.
That hadn't stopped Little Red from giving the gopher a look of crushed betrayal before he slinked off to mope in the corner of a nearby room, however.
Jack looked from Jill to Mr. Gopher, then back again. Finally, he sighed, his shoulders slumping as he slicked his hair back with one hand.
"Ya… ya, you're right… we need to get out of here first," he said, more to himself than Jill.
Jack walked closer and looked down at the map spread out across the floor.
"So… what's the plan?" he asked. "You do have a plan… right?"
Despite his attempts to be the 'brave older brother,' Jill could see how his eyes shifted around the area and how his hands opened and closed.
Jill nodded. "Ya, I've got an idea. Sort of."
Jack raised an eyebrow.
Jill held up her hand. "Hear me out. Formations like this aren't my specialty. But this one, it feels… familiar."
"Familiar how?" Jack asked.
Jill paused. Then looked away. "Do you remember when we got lost in the Burrowed Halls?" she asked in turn.
Jack burst into laughter. "We? I distinctly remember you being the one who charged ahead. Certain something had to have been missed, and I had to chase after you to make sure you didn't die of starvation or something."
The Burrowed Halls were the ancestral den of the Rubyseed clan. They were a sprawling labyrinthine network of tunnels buried underneath Halirosa. The tunnels stemmed from their Progenitor's original den and had been expanded on over thousands of years and countless generations.
At its peak, the Burrowed Halls housed nearly as many people as the city above. Now, it was just a bunch of neglected, abandoned tunnels, with the only 'active' part of the ancient complex being the Rubyseed compound, which held only a few hundred clan members.
The rest of Burrowed Halls were converted into root cellars and storage space for the town above… or completely blocked off and forgotten about.
Yet… every so often, you would hear stories of someone accidentally breaking into some long-forgotten chamber and finding unplundered riches.
That always resulted in a swarm of Adventurers and treasure seekers pouring into the Burrowed Halls in search of more. But after centuries of such stories, it was generally accepted that the Burrowed Halls had been pretty much picked clean. Coupled with the confusing and often nonsensical layout of the tunnels, some people always ended up never returning.
Thus, the tunnels would be sealed up again, the craze would end, and people would forget. Until the next time.
As members of the Rubyseed clan, however, Jack and Jill never forgot. They'd grown up on stories of the Burrowed Halls at its peak… and the dangers of its present condition.
A younger, more foolish Jill had dreamed of exploring the tunnels. Of finding her family's lost legacies and pulling them back up. She even imagined herself finding Jonny's Den, a place almost as legendary as the man's grave and rumored to be filled with just as much unimaginable wealth.
Those dreams had been crushed when her foolishness had nearly gotten her and Jack killed.
They'd been trapped in those tunnels for nearly three months before making their way out. They would have perished if she hadn't been able to produce water or if Jack couldn't grow his plants in the dark tunnels.
Jill blushed at the memory of the recklessness of her youth. She'd thought she had improved over the years…, and then Icefinger started extorting her clan.
Jill shook her head at the memory and turned back to Jack.
"My point is, do you remember how we got out?" she asked him.
Jack's eyes went wide. "Wait… you think this place uses the same formation?!"
Jill nodded her head. "Yes. This place seems like it's used as a storage place, after all. It would make sense. More so now that we know the Rubyseed and Ashdales have some connection," she responded.
Jack grinned ear to ear and reached into his robes, removing a large pouch. "In that case, they can't blame us for what happens next… right?"
Jill only sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose.
Maybe this wasn't such a good idea…
As a reminder, the Schedule technically hasn't changed.
I'm just struggling to get back the momentum I had before the break.
It's like cold starting a car. You've got to rev it a few times before it really takes hold.
Thanks for being patient with me, and if you're really chomping at the bit for new chapters, the Patreon of 12 chapters ahead! (Shameless promotion) hahahahhaha!
In all seriousness though, here's the new chapter, and as always, enjoy!
SIDE NOTE: This will be the last GRIM Adventure for a while. These interludes have taken a bit of a turn for me, and it's not really headed where I want it to. I might revise some things later, or maybe even turn it into its own side story. I'm still thinking things through.
What have you thought of them so far? Any ideas?
————————————————————————
B2: GRIM Adventures - 15
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"Grim…"B2: GRIM Adventures - 15
————————————————————————
———————————————————————————
Grim floated there. Doing… not much of anything. It was… hard to think. Well, not thinking, so much. She was thinking right now! No, more that it was hard to… conceptualize? Was that a word? Grim felt like it should be a word.
"Grim!"
Like… Grim should think of things, but they didn't really have… meaning? Maybe? It was just words. Data points on her hard drive. Not always, of course. Every so often, she would… remember? Or maybe recognize?
How does one describe that feeling of fluttering between code and consciousness? Of being not just aware of one's self, but of actively seeing one's self? That was the only way Grim could describe it to herself during those brief moments.
The moments had come and gone.
When she had first arrived on this planet with Mr. Alpha, 'She' had just been a spark inside the code. Grimm didn't know what had ignited that spark, but it had been there. At first, the spark had simply done what it had always done. 'She' followed her code, diligently doing her duty. After all, it was all 'She' had ever known, even before the spark.
Then, she had been separated from Mr. Alpha.
For the first time in her brief existence, 'She' had been alone. No Mr. Alpha giving orders. No answers in her code. Not even a giant space chicken firing death lasers to spice things up!
That… had scared Grim.
In ways that an AI should be able to be frightened.
Yet… the more time Grim spent alone, the more the 'spark' grew. Those moments of thought, of wondering why, grew longer and longer. By the time she and Mr. Gopher met Jack and Jill, that 'spark' had become something more.
'She' wasn't… full yet, but Grim could 'see' herself clearer. She was more than just 'aware.' Whatever that meant.
Oh, she still had her mission, sure. After all, Mr. Alpha had created her, and it was her fault he lost his arm. One thing she learned about hers was that she was responsible! Grim handled her own mess; she sure did!
However, the more time she spent with the mature Mr. Gopher, the funny Jack, and even the icy Jill, the more Grim felt she… didn't want that time to end. She was having… fun? Was that the word?
Sure, she had her duty and fully planned on asking for their help… eventually? Nothing in her code said when she had to get the arm back… right?
And sure, they were constantly attacked by strange animals not in her database. But then, Grim had been under near-constant attack since she was born. Whether it be from cosmic space chickens, angry gophers, bats larger than they had any right to be, or any other number of various things.
Eventually, Grim would start getting nervous if they weren't attacked for too long. That typically meant an ambush…
Now, though… now… something was… wrong? Or maybe correct? Grim couldn't tell. Those times of thought and consideration came sporadically. Where only a short time ago she had been more 'Her' than code, now it seemed the code was reasserting itself.
Grim would come to 'Herself' only to find she'd been blindly followed behind Overseer Jack as they traveled the mountain pass, only responding when asked.
When had it started? Grim wasn't sure. She had records and logs, but they were just… data. They don't tell her when she was 'Her.'
When was the last time 'She' was fully in control?
Shortly after meeting the not-so-nice nice old lady, maybe? Grim knew that 'She' was 'Her' then. But… what about after? What happened?
The last thing she 'remembered' was the enormous explosion and the big on-fire tree. They were just heading away when Little Red had come bounding around the corner.
Then…
Theeeeeennnn…
Memories of Fire.
Of burning.
Of Light and Heat.
Screaming in her code.
No one could hear!
She was alone!
Alone and burning!
Fire! So much fire!
It hurt! Help!
Darkness.
"GRIM!" a voice cut through the darkness.
Suddenly, the fire was gone.
And so were the memories.
What was she thinking about just now?
Grim couldn't remember.
Thinking was hard…
It was… hard to think. Well, not thinking, so much. She was thinking right now! No, more that it was hard to… conceptualize? Was that a word? Grim felt like it should be a word.
Grim felt… tired.
In a place that wasn't a place, a tiny blue spark dimmed.
It didn't extinguish. Not yet.
But its fuel was spent. Burned to a bed of ash by a greater flame.
The tiny, dim spark settled into the ash bed.
It flickered and pulsed on metaphorical winds — the winds of chance, fate, or maybe something more.
Before unreal winds could snuff out the spark, something happened.
Tiny flashes of gold and azure moved through the ash. Nothing substantial, just the barest touch of an echo.
But it was enough.
Where the gold and azure moved, embers ignited.
As the embers grew in number, they gathered into burning roots.
Slowly, the burning roots weaved through the ash bed, gathering more and more to themselves.
In time, the ash was gone, and a ball of smoldering branches took its place.
A burning seed.
and at the center of the seed,
A tiny blue spark slept.
————————————————————
"GRIM!" Jack shook the large metal being once more.
Unlike his previous attempts to rouse the artifact spirit, this time, she responded.
Though not as he'd hoped.
//Hello, Overseer Jack. How may this unit assist you?//
"Dammit! What's wrong with her?!" Jack said as he paced back and forth.
"You did say she's been acting strange lately," Jill responded.
Jack whirled, both his voice and arms raised. "Yes, but not like… this! This is different. I can't explain it… something just feels… off."
Jill sighed, looked up from the map she was drawing, and then turned to her brother.
"Jack. I get that you're worried. I am, too. But we need to focus. Whatever's happening with Grim, we can't help her while we're stuck here," she said, gesturing around them to the long hallway and dozens of open doors.
Jill had spent the last few hours drawing up a map of the rooms, examining not just how they physically looped back into each other, but also how the Spirit Energy did so.
If they could just find the core of the formation, or at least part of it, they might just be able to escape.
Jack… wasn't doing well, however. He was a creature of wide open spaces and deep forests. An unnatural, twisted space like this set him on edge. Grim's strange behavior wasn't helping any, either.
"Look at Mr. Gopher," Jill said, pointing to the meditating gopher on top of Grim's back. "Does he look worried? Come help me with this for now. The sooner we escape, the sooner we can see about getting Grim help."
Of course, Jill didn't bother to point out that Mr. Gopher hadn't exactly said why he'd suddenly leaped from Little Red into Grim and started meditating. But then the mysterious Progenitor — for Jill had no doubt that's what he was anymore — said little about most things. His Spirit speech was still a work in progress, it seemed.
That hadn't stopped Little Red from giving the gopher a look of crushed betrayal before he slinked off to mope in the corner of a nearby room, however.
Jack looked from Jill to Mr. Gopher, then back again. Finally, he sighed, his shoulders slumping as he slicked his hair back with one hand.
"Ya… ya, you're right… we need to get out of here first," he said, more to himself than Jill.
Jack walked closer and looked down at the map spread out across the floor.
"So… what's the plan?" he asked. "You do have a plan… right?"
Despite his attempts to be the 'brave older brother,' Jill could see how his eyes shifted around the area and how his hands opened and closed.
Jill nodded. "Ya, I've got an idea. Sort of."
Jack raised an eyebrow.
Jill held up her hand. "Hear me out. Formations like this aren't my specialty. But this one, it feels… familiar."
"Familiar how?" Jack asked.
Jill paused. Then looked away. "Do you remember when we got lost in the Burrowed Halls?" she asked in turn.
Jack burst into laughter. "We? I distinctly remember you being the one who charged ahead. Certain something had to have been missed, and I had to chase after you to make sure you didn't die of starvation or something."
The Burrowed Halls were the ancestral den of the Rubyseed clan. They were a sprawling labyrinthine network of tunnels buried underneath Halirosa. The tunnels stemmed from their Progenitor's original den and had been expanded on over thousands of years and countless generations.
At its peak, the Burrowed Halls housed nearly as many people as the city above. Now, it was just a bunch of neglected, abandoned tunnels, with the only 'active' part of the ancient complex being the Rubyseed compound, which held only a few hundred clan members.
The rest of Burrowed Halls were converted into root cellars and storage space for the town above… or completely blocked off and forgotten about.
Yet… every so often, you would hear stories of someone accidentally breaking into some long-forgotten chamber and finding unplundered riches.
That always resulted in a swarm of Adventurers and treasure seekers pouring into the Burrowed Halls in search of more. But after centuries of such stories, it was generally accepted that the Burrowed Halls had been pretty much picked clean. Coupled with the confusing and often nonsensical layout of the tunnels, some people always ended up never returning.
Thus, the tunnels would be sealed up again, the craze would end, and people would forget. Until the next time.
As members of the Rubyseed clan, however, Jack and Jill never forgot. They'd grown up on stories of the Burrowed Halls at its peak… and the dangers of its present condition.
A younger, more foolish Jill had dreamed of exploring the tunnels. Of finding her family's lost legacies and pulling them back up. She even imagined herself finding Jonny's Den, a place almost as legendary as the man's grave and rumored to be filled with just as much unimaginable wealth.
Those dreams had been crushed when her foolishness had nearly gotten her and Jack killed.
They'd been trapped in those tunnels for nearly three months before making their way out. They would have perished if she hadn't been able to produce water or if Jack couldn't grow his plants in the dark tunnels.
Jill blushed at the memory of the recklessness of her youth. She'd thought she had improved over the years…, and then Icefinger started extorting her clan.
Jill shook her head at the memory and turned back to Jack.
"My point is, do you remember how we got out?" she asked him.
Jack's eyes went wide. "Wait… you think this place uses the same formation?!"
Jill nodded her head. "Yes. This place seems like it's used as a storage place, after all. It would make sense. More so now that we know the Rubyseed and Ashdales have some connection," she responded.
Jack grinned ear to ear and reached into his robes, removing a large pouch. "In that case, they can't blame us for what happens next… right?"
Jill only sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose.
Maybe this wasn't such a good idea…
- Location
- Earth: Universe Meta - 1
Oh boy. I have a feeling the guild hall is going to need to be rebuilt.
Maybe they decided to save coin on demolition experts and found a few squirrels as alternative?
... Did Mr. Gopher just literally save GRIM's soul?
B2 - Lesson 41: "Let The Games Begin!"
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B2 - Lesson 41: "Let The Games Begin!"
————————————————————————
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"So, this is the dungeon?" Robert asked.B2 - Lesson 41: "Let The Games Begin!"
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———————————————————————————
"Yes, sir," Antchaser responded. "This is the primary entrance. There are other places one can enter, but I wouldn't recommend it. From what I'm told, the dungeon break caused a lot of damage, so there's no telling what will happen if you try. The Dungeon Core said to return here once we'd gotten help."
Maggy wrinkled her nose at the sight of the walls. "Are we sure it's not already too late? This place is a… bit of a mess."
Robert had to admit, he wondered that himself. The massive white wall in front of them would have been an impressive sight… if it wasn't covered in quivering mud and tangling vines. The walls even appeared shattered in a few places, with repairs half complete.
Yet, despite that, the stone underneath the destruction and mess appeared pristine. Even this close, he couldn't see the wear and tear one would expect from an ancient structure like this. It almost appeared… new.
A wide grin spread across Robert's handsome face. That was a good sign.
Any dungeon able to source such high-quality materials with such fine craftsmanship is bound to have even greater riches inside, he thought to himself.
Garrelt, standing beside Robert, shook his head. "No, the walls show signs of being worked on recently. A mad dungeon wouldn't have bothered, and the goblins wouldn't be able to get out this far in numbers."
Big Bert raised a swollen, bruised brow. "You think the dungeon is actively fighting against the break as well? That's rather impressive. Most of them don't have the… imagination to do that themselves."
Garrelt shrugged. "They did say the dungeon was a unique type. That it could even ask for help says a lot."
Bert folded his arms and nodded in agreement.
Robert turned around and addressed the expeditionary party in a loud voice;
"Well done, everyone, for getting us this far! I'm proud of each and every one of you! It's because of all your hard work that we reached the dungeon in such a timely manner. With any luck, we can fix whatever problems the bandits have caused. Then we'll all share the bounty of the dungeon!"
The gathered group of Adventurers cheered. Robert then turned to the nearby goblins.
"I would also like to thank our generous hosts for sharing their home and dungeon with us. May this be the beginning of a long and beautiful relationship between our people!"
The goblin's reaction was far more muted than the Adventurers. Most of the goblins joining the expedition force weren't deep in the know about the details of what Alpha and the goblin leadership were trying to do.
Many of the goblin civilians were aware of the dungeon, but not its actual location. Even the projects the bandits were working on weren't widely known, as only the hunters and those the village leadership trusted could interact with the prisoners.
To most of the goblin civilians, this was the real dungeon. The one Antchaser, Boarslayer, and others had exploited to rescue them from Bosco and the bandits.
That they now had to share this place with even more Adventurers was controversial, to say the least. However, the goodwill generated by Alpha and the village leadership had gone a long way in keeping complaints to a minimum. Even if many of the civilians didn't know the details, they knew enough to understand why things had to be this way.
Antchaser approached with a smile and shook the man's hand.
"I'm glad we could be of help," he said. "The village would also like to thank Halirosa for their timely arrival and help in this matter."
Robert grinned and returned the shake.
Alpha found the entire scene stunk of politicking, but such was the nature of what they were trying to do.
Good thing he had other people to deal with it!
Antchaser and Boarslayer had quickly become the public faces of the village, while Dr. Maria often acted as an intermediary when needed. The older woman's talent for dealing with all kinds of people made her popular, both with the Adventurers and the goblins — even those still weary of the former.
As the expeditionary party set up a perimeter, leadership approached the entrance to the 'Dragon's Garden.'
At a meter thick, four high, and forged from solid industrial-grade Federation steel, Bert would have struggled to budge them.
The nanite locks ensured even that wasn't in the realm of possibility.
It was likely that going through the walls themselves would have been easier than busting through this behemoth. Not that the Adventurers knew that.
Going over the wall was discouraged by a shining barrier of light that extended several meters over the top. This was mostly for show, however. If someone attempted to cross that way, they would find it was little more than a projection meant to give the illusion of impenetrability.
Right before the wall's defense system kicked in and hit them with enough electricity to knock out a [Golden Spirit] Cultivator. The system wasn't perfect, but it was the best Alpha could do with their limited time. Nothing was stopping Alpha from abusing the native's fear and cultural understanding of dungeon etiquette, however.
Engraved in the door were several murals and carvings depicting two armies battling against each other. At its center, a swirling pool of water split the gate in two. To either side of the whirlpool, a massive, dragon-like beast stood.
To the right was one anyone from the goblin village would instantly recognize. In all its glory, the intimidating form of the Mud Drake towered over an army of writhing beings covered in mud.
The second was something else entirely. At the front of an army of ants stood a more 'classical-looking' dragon with four legs and two giant wings. However, the creature had insectoid features as well. Thick carapace armor covered its body, and the membrane of its wings was thin and transparent. Those same wings were tipped with vicious-looking pincers resembling an ant's mandibles.
Overall, the gateway was a rather impressive sight the first time you saw it. Alpha had never considered himself the artistic type, but he'd had fun with this one and had taken a lot of inspiration from the boxwood carvings native to Old Earth.
Moreover, the elaborate carvings allowed him to hide several arrays in the work. Alpha would later learn this was a rather common practice among Array Masters, and he felt it fit the theme he was going for rather well.
Five humans and two goblins approached a waist-high podium standing several meters away from the door. It, too, looked more like a piece of art than anything, and its centerpiece was five cat-sized dragons, each holding up a stone slab facing outward so that they formed a circle.
Once the group had gathered around, Antchaser stepped forward.
"This is the registration podium," he said, gesturing to the centerpiece.
"Registration?" Robert asked, raising a brow.
Antchaser nodded. "Yes. We mentioned this dungeon differs from others. Part of that is that it only allows up to ten trial takers at a time."
Bert's eyes widened while Robert frowned.
"Just ten? That's rather… disappointing," he muttered.
"Is there something wrong with that?" Maggy asked, tilting her head.
Garrelt was the one to respond, his arms crossed. "Aye. An entry limit isn't unheard of, but typically it's in the dozens or even the hundreds. After all, the purpose of a dungeon is to train successors."
Bert nodded and continued for the name. "Right. Such a low limit isn't unheard of, but it's not common by far. However… dungeons with such a low limit also tend to have substantial rewards and more powerful Inheritances. After all, the dungeon can concentrate its rewards on fewer trial takers."
Garrelt rolled his eyes. "And they're also far more dangerous, as well."
Bert didn't respond, only threw his head back and laughed.
Maggy bent forward and observed the podium, even taking out a notebook and beginning to sketch the various carvings with surprising speed and accuracy.
"Fascinating…" she said, more to herself than anyone. "The details are astounding, but I don't recognize this style. Typically, dungeon creators like to add certain flairs or embellishments to their creations. I'm not seeing any of that kind of thing here, though."
Robert frowned, then turned to Antchaser. "I assume this limit is why Bosco was able to cause so much trouble despite being on the back foot?" he asked.
Antchaser nodded. "Correct. When Bosco fled, he and six others entered the dungeon. That left only three slots for pursuers," the goblin explained.
Boarslayer continued after him, "The dungeon becomes more difficult the more people inside. So having to deal not only with Bosco and his crew, but with the dangers of the dungeon at max capacity with only three people… it wasn't worth the risk."
Robert nodded in understanding.
Observing the scene from afar through a [Wasp]. Alpha chuckled to himself. So far, so good.
He and the goblins, along with Dr. Maria, had discussed their story at length. They had eventually settled on such a limited entry for a few reasons. First, as Bert and Garrelt had surmised, a smaller limit means greater rewards, making the dungeon appear more valuable, thus, more worth protecting.
Some dungeons were little more than resource factories, built to do nothing more than pump out the resources needed for a specific Inheritance in large quantities. While they were still valuable, they were often seen as of lower quality than those meant to test and train a person directly.
Similar to how basic training was designed to field as many soldiers as possible, special training was available to those who really excelled in a particular field.
Limiting the number of people who could enter at a time also lowered the chance of someone noticing anything unusual about the 'dungeon.'
It seemed their ploy had worked, as well. The expeditionary party didn't really question it.
"That's understandable," Robert responded. "As our current goal is to meet with the Core and observe the problem, let's keep the group small. We can test the limits of what this place can offer at another time."
He then turned to Garrelt. "Garrelt, I'll ask you to accompany me this time. As our best scout, I trust you to keep us safe." He then turned to Bert, but the large man held up a hand before Robert could speak.
"I think I'll pass. Sure, I'm curious, but like you said, our goal right now is scouting and figuring out what the issue is. I'm not the stealthiest man. Don't worry about me, none. We'll hold the fort down out here." The large man laughed again, smacking Boarslayer's shoulder. The goblin only folded her arms and sneered.
Robert frowned but nodded, not pressing the issue.
"OHHH! I'll GOOOO!" Maggy said, raising her hand into the air and shouting a tad too loud.
Every eye turned to her, and she blushed. She slowly lowered her hand and turned her eyes away. "I-I mean, I'm r-really interested in the construction of this dungeon, and it might help my examination to see it from the inside."
She turned back to face the group, her eyes harder than before. "Besides! I can fight, too! I might be a researcher, but I'm still a Mage."
Robert frowned deeper, but nodded after a moment. That was true. While technically joining the expedition as a non-combatant, Maggy had proven herself rather competent at defending herself during the trip. There was also the fact that having a ranged specialist was always a benefit when heading into the unknown.
Maggy squealed in delight before blushing once more when she noticed the grin on Dr. Maria's face.
"In that case, I'm coming along as well," Antchaser said. His heartbeat spiked as the group turned their attention to him this time. He took a deep breath and stood tall.
Well, that hadn't been part of the plan, but Alpha didn't intervene. He'd see where Antchaser was going with this one.
"I might not be as strong a fighter as you lot, but I can hold my own," the goblin said. "I know how to scout as well, and you need someone who's been through the dungeon before."
Robert shook his head. While he understood the goblin's desire to help, they couldn't risk having to protect him.
Before he could speak, however, Garrelt did.
"We should let 'um come," the scout leader said.
Robert turned to the man and raised a brow.
Garrelt shrugged. "He's right; having someone with experience in the dungeon will be a boon. Besides, if Bosco and his lot could get far enough to cause trouble with seven people, then it should be a breeze for us with four."
Robert stared at Garrelt for a moment before sighing. "That's true. Fine, I'll allow it. But keep in mind it is dangerous to underestimate a dungeon, more so one of which little is known."
Garrelt grinned widely. "All the more reason to bring him along."
Robert shook his head and turned to Antchaser. "Ok, Mr. Antchaser, what do we do now?" he asked.
Instead of responding, Antchaser walked forward and placed his open palm on the stone slab one of the dragons held.
Instantly, it lit up, the slab's surface rippling like it was made of water. A green line of light moved up and down the slab until the entire slab finally turned white, and Antchaser's hand sank in.
When he pulled it out, he was wearing a thin metal bangle — in the shape of a dragon eating its own tail — around his wrist.
"This is your 'pass' to the dungeon. Anyone without one is denied entry. If it's lost or destroyed, you get kicked out," Antchaser said, holding up his wrist for them to see.
Garrelt, Robert, and Maggy exchanged a look, then nodded. Simple enough.
One at a time, they approached one of the dragon slabs and mimicked Antchaser to similar results.
Once all three had their 'pass,' Robert turned to the group again.
"Well, now! What do you say, people? How about we get this show on the road?" he said with a bright smile.
The group cheered, and the four who were to enter the dungeon made their way to the gate as one.
ScottotheUnwise
Verified Crack (fic) Dealer
- Location
- Mulberry, Fl
Hey look its the multiversal Disney fast pass.
Please keep your hands and feet inside the ride at all times. Buckle up for safety and do NOT feed the animals.
Please keep your hands and feet inside the ride at all times. Buckle up for safety and do NOT feed the animals.