Beastborne

by James T Callum

  Well, that’s not exactly true, he chastised himself. I sacrificed a lot to get this information. To free the Shadow Sages and see that Giel’s death wasn’t in vain. Not only that but if a Manastorm comes against us, I’m the only one who can make the caravan safe. Without me, the dwarves wouldn’t be able to mine the Shardite.

  It was a bad habit of his to constantly sell himself and his accomplishments short. One he was trying to break, but old habits died hard. Still, he kept his thoughts to himself, curious how Rondo would view things.

  When he pointed this out to Rondo, the little gnome shook his head. “That’s not how dwarves think. Without your caravan – which you paid for – they would not be able to get into the Mirrorlands. Durvin certainly would not bring them for Shardite alone and your Rangers are far better guides than even the best dwarvish navigator among the clan.

  “You underestimate how valuable your group is. Why I have seen with my own eyes how you tore apart one of those creatures that attacked the camp as if it were nothing. The dwarves are strong but most among them are not fighters of the caliber akin to your group.

  “Durvin is a smart leader. He would be risking much without the expert guidance of Rangers. Rangers, I might add that serve you. Perhaps you have become used to their company. Those like Yesel, who lead us around the dangerous ground that could crack open like a thin sheet of ice and swallow us whole are all that stands between us and certain death.

  “Rangers are not common. Finding those that are willing and able to do such dangerous work would be difficult on its own and the cost would be exorbitant. You have no idea how lucky you are to have a dedicated team of Rangers answer to you, Hal.”

  He had no idea the Mirrorlands were so dangerous. They were strange, and the few creatures they saw in the distance stranger still but nothing seemed outrightly hazardous.

  “Thank you, Rondo. Good work.” He patted the Gnome on the shoulder. “I suppose I have become used to the Rangers and their abilities.”

  Rondo Reputation: +2,000 (Idolized).

  Rondo’s respect for you has grown with each tale he has heard around the caravan. Among all things, Rondo is a skilled collector of stories and rumor. Your actions, and your striking similarity to another man he idolized, causes him to hold you in high esteem.

  Rondo will subtly work to make sure your goals are met, even if he isn’t explicitly told them. He wishes to see you succeed among all things and though he may often be absent, his subtle machinations may prove pivotal in the months and years to come.

  Rondo beamed, looking much like a younger man suddenly. “You remind me of him, you know.”

  Hal started and didn’t dare look Rondo’s way, afraid his face would give something away. “Like who?”

  “A man that gave his all to help Murkmire. A hero. Some of us don’t forget.” He said nothing more, only kept that wide smile of his as he stared out at the rolling crystallized land that spread out behind them. Blues and purples, pinks and violets scattered across the sparkling faceted landscape.

  For a few moments, the pair looked out over the glittering Mirrorlands. Now that Hal was looking for it, he could see some areas that he had before taken for dips in the landscape. Now that he took a closer look, they were narrow black chasms.

  Yesel and the rest of the Rangers, aside from Elora and Angram, had taken the lead wagon early on. Hal thought nothing of it. Now he wondered how many more attacks might they have had if the Rangers were not charting their course?

  Hal knew where they needed to go – roughly speaking – but he had no idea how to get there besides walking in the general direction.

  “Are you almost done, Hal?” Ashera called from the front portion of the wagon where a large table was set up with enough alchemical supplies for herself, Hal, and Noth.

  Glancing at Rondo, the old gnome gave Hal a nod. “I’d like to sit and watch this strange place a little longer.”

  “Try not to fall off,” Hal said with a smile. He got up and headed to the front of the wagon, stepping over Vorax as he did. Naturally, the mimic shuffled his way after Hal to rest at his side when Hal pulled up a chair at the table.

  24

  For Noth’s sake, Ashera went over the basics while Hal went assembling a basic [Silencing Potion]. Not terribly useful except against potent spellcasters, but it was a low-level recipe that they had plenty of ingredients for.

  Unlike [Health Potions] which, while relatively simple to put together, required ingredients that were in short supply.

  If they did run into mages, they would have a steady supply of [Silencing Potions] to take them out with ease. At only 5 CP each, Hal could finish one [Silencing Potion] and then a bit over half of another within an hour.

  Ashera, meanwhile with her ridiculous 39 CP could churn them out to the point they were practically mass-produced.

  But for Noth and Hal, it was still a decent recipe to practice on and one that didn’t produce any noxious fumes if things went wrong. That was a very real concern they needed to think about as they were all in a confined space.

  Even if the wagon’s interior was more spacious than any RV Hal had ever seen, it still lacked the proper airflow of being outside or having a ventilating hood.

  Even with the lesser recipes, both Hal and Noth gained skill at a remarkable rate. Largely thanks to the buff from Komachi but there was another one that triggered whenever Ashera was around, teaching them what to do. It was called Teacher’s Gift and seemed to provide a 15% EXP bonus. Coupled with the blessing from Komachi, they had a cumulative 65% EXP boost to all skills.

  Most of the wagon was filled with people training or practicing something in order to get as much use out of the blessing as possible. Angram took to the sloped roof and fired off bowshots at passing marks alongside Elora. Their friendly competition gained quite a beat of steam. Their cursing and bickering reverberated inside the wagon.

  Much to everybody’s amusement.

  “Ashera, I keep seeing this Teacher’s Gift, what’s that from?” Noth asked as she kept swirling her beaker full of [Black Ink] and [Crystallized Wormroot].

  “Ah… it’s from my Attendant Class,” Ashera said, her voice barely above a whisper. “When I teach somebody a Skill I possess and my Level is higher than theirs, they get a boost to their experience.”

  Hal didn’t understand why she looked so embarrassed by the question but he quickly worked to change the subject back to Alchemy. It felt like a safer subject. Ashera’s confidence soon returned and she took on the mantle of a teacher once more, gladly answering questions either of them had.

  Hal was eager to try out his new aberration abilities, but he didn’t think that the chance to earn 50% more EXP was going to come around often. While the new abilities, Bone Armor, and Blades of Bone were interesting and seemed strong on their own, he couldn’t necessarily train them.

  Bone Armor scaled based on his stats and his aberration attunement, while Blades of Bone scaled off stats and the weaponry skill of the object he was designing. In a way, he could train that by increasing his Sword skill if he wanted to make bone swords.

  The thought sent a shiver down his spine. Would it hurt when he summoned the weapon? Would it somehow grow out of his skin? He doubted it would be any other way.

  It was Aberration after all.

  Training his Alchemy was, in his mind, the best use of his time. At least while he had Ashera’s aid and the buff from Komachi. Combined, even with these weaker recipes, he was gaining Alchemy EXP at a blistering pace.

  And there was something pleasing about seeing Noth’s Alchemy rise alongside his. She was a quick study and having a purpose, even a simple one like spending the day learning Alchemy, seemed to give her a goal to focus on.

  The buff ended up lasting all day, well into the night when the wagons formed a ring and set up camp.

  Only a few hours into making [Silencing Potions], Hal hit Level 5 Alchemy, the rest of the Levels took quite a bit longer.

  Hal’s
sense of smell was completely burned out by then. But his Alchemy had skyrocketed to Level 10, earning him his first Alchemy Perk.

  Your Alchemy has risen to Level 5.

  …

  Your Alchemy has risen to Level 10.

  +1% Crafting speed (+10%).

  +1.5% Toxicity tolerance (+15%).

  +5% Poison Resistance (+10%).

  You have 1 Alchemy Perk awaiting assignment.

  [Potions Master] 0/2

  Potions and poisons you make are 20% stronger.

  Lv2: +40% Potion and Poison strength.

  [Oil Master] 0/3

  Oils you create are 10% stronger and last 5 minutes longer.

  Lv1: 10% Stronger Oils | Duration +5min.

  Lv2: 20% Stronger Oils | Duration: +7min.

  Lv3: 30% Stronger Oils | Duration: +10min.

  [Ware Sampler] 0/1

  Potions and Alchemy ingredients you ingest are 25% more effective. Poisons you ingest are 30% less effective.

  Obviously, he would pick Potions Master. Aside from the Snape reference, it was the clear winner with a whopping 40% boost to the efficacy of both Poisons and Potions. At least once he got it to Level 2.

  Without much debate, Hal selected the first Level of Potions Master and couldn’t help but grin.

  After dinner, Hal returned to the wagon to tally up all they had made that day. He would have put it away into a special coffer strictly meant for the whole of the caravan and soon to be the Sanctum, if Vorax didn’t eat it on the third day.

  So, Hal placed the many vials, flasks, and bottles within Vorax’s fifth or sixth extraplanar stomach. Wherever Vorax placed the devoured gilded coffer that day. A box within a box, as it were.

  It was a joke that seemed to please Vorax to no end.

  The final tally for the day was 17 [Silencing Potions], 10 [Antidotes], 8 [Health Potions], 4 [Elixirs], and 3 [Stamina Potions]. Hal took a quick glance over the medicines compartment of his coffer:

  [Medicines]

  34 [Antidotes]

  12 [Stamina Potions]

  7 [Elixirs]

  10 [Health Potions]

  38 [Silencing Potions]

  3 [Blind Screens]

  10 [Poison Potions]

  3 [Mana Potions]

  Most of the [Health Potions] were distributed to various members of his wagon and the caravan at large when they were made. They didn’t have a very large supply of ingredients and it was many days since they found a suitable river that they could find [Witherroot] and [Waterwheels], let alone any Treants for [Tree Sap].

  Hal was pretty confident that once they settled down he could plant the [Treant Seeds] he had and grow his own, and potentially a steady supply of alchemical ingredients that were difficult to procure.

  Everything he was doing or planning to do, he had to keep in mind the goal of self-sufficiency. To begin with, they would be cut off from everywhere and be entirely reliant on themselves.

  So far, Hal thought they stood a good chance to survive the first few months of isolation and hardship. With the sturdy dwarves at their side, if they found a good supply of stone Hal felt reasonably sure their housing issues would be solved in the short term.

  Finding a place, however, was key and so far he couldn’t get a straight answer from anybody about the geography of the Shiverglades. Nobody had been there and for good reason. It was considered the last untamed wildlands of Fallmark.

  Vicious beasts roamed the frigid swamps, making any stone buildings utterly useless if they pushed too far into the Shiverglades. At the same time, they couldn’t stay too near the entrance. Doing so would invite attacks against them.

  There was a massive mountain, marked with a strange swirling symbol on one of Angram’s old maps at the center of the Shiverglades. If they could reach it, that would provide the best location but nobody Hal asked knew what the symbol meant.

  He would simply have to play it by ear. It wasn’t a comforting thought. There was no way the caravan could haul enough timber and stone to erect suitable housing and still make the long trek. And if they chose the wrong place, they could wake up one morning with half the buildings sunken into the soft earth.

  Hal shook his head, not “they” he reminded himself. It would be up to him to decide a place to settle.

  There was a cry outside, followed by another. Voices lifted in worry and shouted back and forth. Hal shut the lid and ordered Vorax to stay quiet beneath the bunk.

  He leaped out of the back of the wagon to find a pair of Rangers, Yesel and a younger woman he didn’t remember the name of approaching him with their long steady gait. “We have a problem,” Yesel said. She handed Hal a spyglass. “Look to the south.”

  Hal twisted about, still surprised that he instinctively knew which direction that was, and put the glass to his right eye. “What is that?” he breathed.

  In the distance was a storm unlike anything he had ever seen before.

  The sky was filled with deep purple light, easily picked out in the night sky. Flashes of blood-red lightning forked across the sky and stabbed at the ground in violent explosions that were visible many miles out.

  Swirling clouds of purple, twisters no bigger than a large man pulled away from the roiling purple clouds and touched down to the ground. They flashed and bulged with inner light and creatures burst forth, crackling with that same purple light.

  “That’s a Manastorm,” Yesel said. “And it will be here soon.”

  “Good,” Hal said with a savage grin. He lowered the spyglass and handed it back to her. “Pull all the wagons into a tight box, press them right against each other if you have to,” Hal ordered. “We’ll place all non-combatants within the center wagons.”

  It was finally time to see if his Manashield was up to the task. The thought of a fight against a Manastorm thrilled him. Though he wasn’t sure how much of that desire was Besal’s influence spreading into his own thoughts.

  25

  Hal pushed away the thought of challenging himself against the Manastorm. That wasn’t him. It was the corrupting influence of the Beast within. Over the weeks since attaining Beastborne, Hal noticed more than a few subtle shifts in his personality and temperament.

  Most of the time he could spot the difference and pull himself back in line with the person he knew himself to be. But as time went on, his sense of self and normalcy shifted in subtle, but noticeable ways.

  He could hardly remember a time when he would turn from a fight.

  There was a deep yearning in his chest at the thought of such a challenge. A feeling that he did well to sublimate as he issued orders to those nearest to him for the good of the caravan.

  The safety of the caravan comes first, Hal repeated like a mantra in his mind. He used the words like a wall to block out the steadily rising desire to rush out at the Manastorm heading their way.

  Wagons were moved, teams of sturdy dwarves maneuvered the heavy things until they were so tightly packed that Hal could walk across one roof to the next without any risk of falling.

  They were still too wide for his Manashield.

  “How much time do we have?” Hal asked, gritting his teeth against the mounting feeling of aggression toward the Manastorm.

  What he first thought was some slight manipulation by the Beast now seemed to be something else entirely. There was a sense of deep-seated enmity toward the Manastorm. And he couldn’t shake the feeling that the storm itself was headed toward him, veering slightly off its northwesterly course to hit the caravan head-on.

  “Before it hits?” Yesel said at his side atop the middle-most wagon. All non-combatants were stuffed into the wagons toward the middle, creating a wall of empty wagons between them and the savagery that was about to come. “I’d give it half an hour now.”

  “It seems to be gaining speed,” Angram said on his other side.

  “That cannot be right,” Yesel said, bringing her own spyglass up to her eye. “He is right.”

  Hal looked at her fine angular elven
features, she barely looked a day over twenty though he knew she was at least twice his age. “Is that abnormal?”

  “Very,” Angram and Yesel said at the same time.

  “So less than thirty minutes,” Hal said as he began looking for the best place to put the first Manashield. Even with an hour to spare, there wouldn’t be enough time to set enough Manashields down to cover the whole caravan.

  But he could cover those that contained people.

  “Much less,” Angram said, lowering his spyglass and surveying the crystallized terrain around them. Large outcroppings of jagged crystal the size of small buildings erupted from the ground around them, providing little cover from the racing Manastorm.

  Hal placed the first Manashield offset from the center of the caravan where Luda, her attendants, Rondo, Komachi, Vorax, and the best of the craftsmen from the dwarves were located.

  Four total wagons were filled with civilians, people too weak or too unskilled to fight. Hal intended to create a triangle pattern of Manashields, each one slightly overlapping so that the majority of the caravan’s vital wagons could be protected.

  As the camp made ready for battle, the Manastorm ate up the miles between them. What once took a spyglass to make out could be seen plainly with the naked eye.

  Hal found a spot offset of the center and shut his eyes, focusing on the warm comforting feeling the Manatree gave him to be near it. There was a peace to it, a stillness of mind that was unlike anything he ever experienced before.

  The Manaseed Ashera sacrificed to bring him back from beyond the veil of death had joined with his soul. It was as much a part of him as he was of it. And he could feel it there, a wellspring of pure power.

  He tapped into that essence. It was entirely unlike using Splice. This felt… right. A deep flowing warmth passed through him and over him like a warm ocean breeze.