Beastborne
Page 40
A dark snaking line of voidmist rolled up and over the mossy stones. Elaise eyed it warily. It was her duty to be wary after all, and with the warleader beside her she was doubly concerned.
She needn’t have worried though, as the dark coil brushed against Aleya’s hand and continued on its way. Wrapped in the protective painted runes on each of their bodies, the voidmist could do them no harm.
To the tribe of the Ebon Star, the voidmist was an old enemy. One that, with enough respect and preparation, could be defeated each and every time. Not for good. Never that. But they could ward themselves against its influence.
So long as they did not venture into those abyssal lands to the north, their protections would hold.
“Forgive me for saying so, warleader,” Elaise dared to say. “But I do not understand your intent.” She motioned at the shamans off to the side, and the three dozen Ebon Star warriors that encircled the caravan.
Already battle had been joined once or twice with the foul nighttime denizens of the Black Lands.
Nothing even the greenest of the Ebon Star warriors couldn’t handle, but it felt oddly like they were protecting the fangrah. And that was impossible. It would shatter the Horgrettr. It would mean war.
With the voidmist acting so strangely as of late and the warding stones needing constant upkeep, nobody could afford a war.
And yet, Elaise could not get the idea out of her head. That Aleya was testing the fangrah instead of annihilating them as was tradition.
As was right.
“You have seen the signs as well as I have. The Ebon Star rises, and so too must the tribe,” Aleya intoned. She had a way of speaking that, even though Elaise knew she was hinting at sacrilege, made everything she said seem reasonable and just.
Elaise couldn’t believe what she was hearing and it was the only excuse she could think of for wagging her tongue so freely to the warleader. “You would have us protect these… fangrah while the shaman’s holy purpose is twisted into a-a trial?”
A hard, steely look made the nearly six-foot-tall barbarian shrink. Elaise lowered her eyes and said, “Forgive me, warleader. I do not mean to speak out of turn.”
Aleya’s hand came up and rested on Elaise’s fur-covered shoulder. “Worry not, Elaise,” she said with a companionable shake. “Many things must change. And sooner than any of us would like. The chains of fate are soon to be rattled. We will see if these fangrah have the strength to break them, or if they can only make noise.”
Sweat chilled on Elaise’s back. She was dressed in furs and leathers, wrapped up except for her middle, thighs, and arms. Upon each of those sections of bare skin she had the swirling runes and symbols of protection painted in [Umbral Ash].
The cold of the Black Lands did not touch her as the voidmist did not touch her. But still, she shivered for the close call.
More than one wagging tongue had been cut out of its foolish head by Aleya for daring to speak out against her wishes. The tribe could not abide divisiveness.
There had to be unity and cohesion at all times.
For no other reason than to work out some of her anxiety, Elaise stood up and shifted around to the taller segment of rock. With sensitive fingertips, she found impossible handholds on the slick moss-covered stone and scaled it with the ease of a spider.
She held herself there, strong muscles honed from nearly half a century of hard work kept her in position. She gingerly peeked her head over the curving top of the stone.
Above the cover of the fog, she would be more easily seen if she was not careful. Even with their blessings and protections painted upon their bodies, it was easier by far to see without the dulling of the fog.
And there she saw the camp more fully.
Ringed in blazing fires, the fangrah had the decent idea to banish the fog with heat. If their sole concern was the cover of fog that tucked the whole of the Black Lands in every night like a chill blanket, then perhaps they were not as stupid as the others that had come through in the past.
But the real threat was the voidmist. And no flame bothered that foul darkness. Only the cold green light from setting an [Umbral Branch] aflame could banish that threat.
And even then, only temporarily.
Three branches would burn for three days, longer if used sparingly. Elaise had the worrying suspicion - one she didn’t dare voice aloud - that Aleya intended on giving the [Umbral Branches] to the fangrah if they passed her trial.
A trial, it seemed to young Elaise, that was already underway.
She had to give the man and woman atop the eastern most wagon some credit. They spotted the Fog Beast long before they should have.
The man drew out a fine blade. She recognized the [Empyreal Shardite] that made up its glittering edge as the firelight played across its length. He turned to the woman, said something, and then with a leap that would have been commendable from any Ebon Star warrior, plunged into the fog.
Elaise strained her eyes to follow the man’s movements through the thick soup of fog. Voidmist tendrils snaked all about him as he rushed toward the Fog Beast and Elaise knew the man would be dead before the Fog Beast ever laid a hand on him.
66
Splicing aberration and eldritch essence, Hal leaped off the wagon’s roof with a Convergence powered surge. He cleared the ten feet above the nearest brazier easily, sailing above the surprised dwarf’s head who fell back and then gave a shout when a second form - that of Noth’s - streaked through the air after Hal.
“Monster, three o’clock!” Hal called out, as the shape was directly to the east.
In the few seconds of flight, Hal tossed Noth a party invite. He gave out the rest to Elora, Ashera, Mira, and Angram. He didn’t think it was necessary to bring their full force to bear, but Hal figured it couldn’t hurt to have the backup.
Just in case.
Hal came down harder than he expected on the mushy ground. He intended to roll to absorb some of the impact but he sunk straight up to his knees as soon as he landed.
Seeing his predicament, Noth came down softer and pitched forward to force the roll that Hal had failed to initiate. She popped up just as Hal managed to extricate himself and together they ran on toward the shadowy beast in the distance.
By then alarm bells were already ringing. He didn’t expect the monster would pose much of a threat. Something about it felt… weak. Insubstantial.
“Something is not right,” Noth said beside him. “There is a foulness to the air.”
Hal nodded. He could feel it too, though likely much less than her. It had the hairs on the back of his neck standing up straight.
Your left! Besal cried in Hal’s head.
He didn’t know why he trusted the voice, but Hal reacted instantly. Twisting and leaping, he pivoted enough to see the dark coil of smoke reaching through the fog toward him.
An arcing glint of yellow and blue crystal flashed through the air, severing the tendril. The main body of it rolled back within the confines of the shifting fog. The part he severed dissipated into smoke.
“Watch out for the black smoky tentacles,” Hal called out to Noth. “There may be something else in the fog with us.” He summoned Feather Barrier, and using Empathy, passed that protection on to Noth.
Noth pressed against his back, her black scythe whipping about as the strange smoky tendrils filtered through the mist like black threads. “Hal, look.”
Following Noth’s gaze, Hal looked up at the creature towering before them. It shook in place, black threads lacing up and down its partially immaterial form.
Its red eyes went dark and when they relit, the light was a ghostly blue. A cry rang out from somewhere farther in, but Hal couldn’t pay much attention to it. Those black threads of smoke were coming on again and Hal was hard pressed just weaving his sword back and forth in a defensive pattern.
“I’m good here,” Noth said, urging Hal toward the creature made of fog. “But I’m not going to be if that thing joins the fight.”
Out came Hal’s [Chain of Binding], quickly wrapped around his left wrist. Doubting it would work, but still trying anyway, Hal cracked a heavy Convergence-fueled whip toward the Fog Beast.
The whip whistled through the air, creating a hauntingly ethereal sound in the muffling fog that flowed all around him.
As he suspected, despite enacting the chain’s magical binding nature, it cut straight through the creature’s misty body. That was fine for him. He had other uses for the chain.
A powerful leap brought Hal up eye-to-eye. He channeled Convergence into his strength and his sword arm as he whipped about. The horizontal strike was aimed at the creature’s glowing eyes. Hal felt a grim sense of satisfaction when he felt the wickedly sharp edge hit something solid.
Normally, his sword in its inert state would deal around 140 damage. With an additional crystal lightning damage of 17.
Decent enough on its own, especially compared to his earlier weapons. Putting every last drop of Convergence into strength right before the strike nearly doubled that to just around 240.
His temporarily enhanced strength did nothing for the additional crystalline lightning damage that arced between the two glowing orbs of light.
A hand of fog came down to swat at him, and Hal knew it would get to him before he ever made it to the ground to dodge aside.
But he didn’t need to.
With a rolling twisting motion of his wrist, he let out more of his chain and then whipped his arm back. His eyes set on a heavy-looking stone, Hal sent the chain singing through the air toward its target.
Enacting the binding effect of the chain, Hal tugged with all of his Convergence-laden strength. The air behind him shifted and he felt the chill hand of the behemoth narrowly miss him.
Even as Hal landed, he was shifting his Convergence to his legs and twisting about to strike back at the monster. Only this time, he let some of the mana stored within [Emissary] flood out into its wondrously savage edge.
The empyreal shardite edge flared to life as its inner light shifted from yellow to blue. Its crystalline light blew back the threads of black and the fog alike.
The blade cleaved at eye level again. Hal’s blade carved against the glowing eyes, dealing just shy of 300 points of damage at 278. While the lightning effect jumped up to 25 points of damage, bringing the total even higher.
For such a small price, the damage improvement was great.
A cloud of fog condensed around Hal and halted his descent. He was already falling into spellcasting. A streaking, diving shadow fell from above and crashed into the creature’s glowing eyes.
You cast Divebomb.
Synergy Triggered!
The [Corrupted Fog Beast | Lv.40] takes 458 points of damage.
You defeat the [Corrupted Fog Beast].
The Fog Beast staggered back and its grip became immaterial as fog once more. Hal dropped to the ground, absorbing the blow by rolling to the side on the muck-strewn ground. He sprang to his feet, with another spell ready to go.
But upon looking at the message, he knew it was unnecessary and let it go. The lack of EXP, sparks, or even monster essence was concerning. That hadn’t happened before.
His answer came in the form of a tall statuesque woman flanked by two burly men stripped to the waist and covered in swirling purple patterns. As they walked toward him, the fog parted and the black tendrils fled before them just as it did before the glowing edge of Hal’s blade.
Noth, no longer harried by the strange black smoke, went to Hal’s side. “What was that all about?”
Hal jerked his chin toward the newcomers. “I expect they’ve got something to do with it.”
The tall blonde woman, obviously the leader of the bunch, came forward. She wore a mix of leather and furs with metal armor mixed in. Her cloak was made of some shifting black fur that had an iridescent quality like an oil slick.
Ridiculously, she had an open midriff, exposed thighs, and parts of her arms were bare as well. Purple body paint was clearly visible on each, hinting at magical protections where the physical ones were lacking.
Black feathers stuck out of her golden hair, shaped in such a way that they resembled raven’s wings. Hal wasn’t tall but neither was he short, he was slightly north of six feet tall but this woman could easily look him in the eyes.
Not a common feat. Only Mira could achieve the same and elves were notoriously tall. This woman looked nothing like an elf. Every inch of her screamed murder.
“Take,” she said, making a motion with her hand. Not to the attendants at either side of her, Hal noticed, but at somebody behind them.
A red-headed woman wearing similar - if less ornate - armor came forward out of the mist to the side. Hal hadn’t even seen her there.
Her ice-blue eyes were hard and her jaw was set. Purple swirls of paint decorated the bare parts of her body and two angular lines swept up her cheekbones. She reminded Hal of Mira a little with the left side of her head done up in tight braids while the rest of her gingery hair fell over the right side of her face.
She tossed Hal a small satchel. Three black-as-night sticks poked out of it. As soon as Hal grabbed it, he noted the name, [Umbral Branches]. When he looked up, the blonde woman and the muscular attendants were already turning to go.
One of them broke off toward the site of the dead Fog Beast. He bent down and retrieved two black jewels. Before Hal could find his voice, they were gone. Except for the red-headed woman who was scowling at him.
The head of the fur cloak on her shoulder looked like a wolf… if a wolf had an extra eye socket in its forehead and was three times its normal size. Its fur was a silvery-blue, no doubt aiding her camouflage within the fog.
“What are these?” Hal asked her, lifting up the bag of sticks.
Looking over her shoulder, the red-head let out a great sigh. For a moment her shoulders sagged under an immense weight but she shook her head and straightened.
She stuck her chin out, and said in her halting command of common, “I stay.” Pointing at the bag of sticks she added, “Will show.”
67
“This is a lot to trust,” Ashera warned.
“I know,” Hal replied, dragging a hand down his tired and stubbled face.
“She could turn on us at any moment,” Elora added.
“I know.”
“Lighting these umbral things might be a trap,” Angram said.
“I know.”
“I ain’t fer trustin’ some random she-devil that waltzes out o’ the fog like some ghost,” Durvin grumped.
“I know,” came Hal’s refrain.
“She’s pretty stacked,” Mira said but delivered in the same grim tone as everybody else.
“I kno-” Hal was about to say as he caught on to Mira’s prank. He rolled his eyes at her.
They had been arguing the same points over and over again ever since Hal brought Elaise, the barbarian woman into the camp. She couldn’t speak common very well, but she seemed resolute in staying and helping. Even if she clearly did not want to.
From what Elaise said, they could burn the [Umbral Branches] and it would drive back the voidmist. Without the light of the branches, they wouldn’t last another day. Already her tribe was pulling back its protective ring.
The dwarves had wanted to stoke the braziers even hotter to drive back the fog. It was no coincidence to Hal that the fog came on even more aggressively after the barbarians left.
That was, of course, if Elaise could be believed.
It could be unrelated, as Angram argued, but Hal didn’t think so. Likely, the elven Ranger was stung that they had been surrounded by a tribe of enemies with none of the Rangers any wiser.
His pride was wounded more than anything, and it was an easier thing to consider that the woman was lying than to thin
k that an enemy could sneak up so completely on the caravan.
Hal kept that all to himself. There was no reason to go rubbing salt in the wound. He knew that the Rangers worked tirelessly to safeguard the caravan at all hours. They were stretched thin. Even with the karaks helping, there simply weren’t enough of them.
The whole thing struck Hal as amusing. Something that seemed to frustrate everybody else in the wagon.
By all rights, they had been surrounded by a powerful force. Despite the Rangers keen eyes. Despite the increased sentry duty. Despite the brightly burning braziers. All of their attempted defenses were useless.
There had been no fighting, not beyond that strange Fog Beast and even then that wasn’t much of a fight. A few bruises were all Hal had from when the brute squeezed him.
It hadn’t even attacked the caravan.
While Hal walked over the memories of the fight in his head, the table erupted into more arguing. Despite the encroaching fog and the insistence of Elaise to light the [Umbral Branches], nobody had done so yet.
“If I defeat somebody’s familiar or summon, would I get experience points for it?” he asked. It was the only thing that made sense. The Fog Beast wasn’t a monster, or else it would have given experience. Barring that, it should have given essence or something.
Komachi jerked her furry muzzle toward Hal with a shocked expression.
When Hal realized how it might sound to the little pobul, he tried to reach out and pet her to comfort her. Komachi shrank away and scurried into Elora’s armor head-first. Her thick tail draped out along with her velvety back paws.
“Komachi,” Hal said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean you.”
The pobul chirped and squeaked indignantly, though it was muffled from within Elora’s leather armor.
“You know the entire caravan would stop anybody from raising a hand against you, Komachi,” Hal went on.
Komachi gave an assenting squeak.
Elora reached down and pet Komachi’s tail. It flopped all about like a live wire and the pobul giggled and chirped happily.