Lydia- Awakening

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Lydia- Awakening Page 18

by Grey Arney


  The chasm widened larger, and the crack in the earth stretched along the palisade, taking on a shape of a lightning bolt, and occasionally zig-zagging into the wooden barrier, swallowing sections of the wall as they fell into the void beneath. It grew wider still, and the horde of goblins stumbled to gain a foothold as the dry sand and silt poured down into the chasm, dragging more of them in.

  You have improved Earth Magic (Level 44)

  Your Earth Magic is now stronger.

  Two levels at once! An extraordinary use of mana. As the goblins fell into the canyon below, Arcturus started getting so many notifications about experience gains and level ups that he had to force himself to push them aside for the time being.

  You have leveled up! Level 17. You have new skill points to spend.

  He had jumped up several levels already, and the experience was still adding up as there were still more goblins dying below. He willed himself to pay no mind to the notifications, despite how useful it might have been to increase his stats.

  Now the surviving goblins were standing on the opposite side of a massive chasm. They had no way to cross. It looked like as many as half of the horde had fallen to their deaths. If he wanted to, he could always pull up the notifications later and count them.

  The remaining enemies were standing on the other side of the ravine, cursing and screaming including the word nyack, nyack. If they had been a little smarter, they wouldn’t have wasted the time. It was not a very long march around the perimeter of the camp to get to another entrance.

  With this portion of the forces routed, Arcturus turned to his bear troops.

  “Those of you who picked up the black acorn, you can use it any time. You just need to switch back to your original shape. It’s easy to do that, but don’t do it unless you’re sure—I can’t make you into the bear again. I’m going after the leader of this camp. He’s a large goblin named Badger. Will you come help me?”

  Not a single bear disagreed, but bears can’t speak. They all followed.

  As they entered the prison quadrant, the bears came across a small goblin who was scavenging the remains of his fellows for meat. His head was a mop of black strands, and his teeth glistened as he tore into the filthy armpit of one of his larger cousins. Upon seeing the approaching Dire Bears, towering over him at twice his height, he stopped and stared.

  The closest bear approached him, apparently ready to tear him limb from limb.

  “Stop!” commanded Arcturus. “Don’t harm any creature that is not aggressive.”

  The goblin appeared to understand the exchange, and stared in disbelief as they proceeded up the road, returning to his meal as soon as they were out of view. As they came around the bend, they were met by a band of guards that had gathered at the scene of the escaped prisoners. The bears didn’t need any goading. Seeing their captors in this place, they let out a snarl so terrifying that one of the goblins who stared wide-eyed at the approaching enemy released his bladder. Urine pooled underneath his loin cloth, and then he let go of the contents of his bowels, too, in a mess that dripped down his legs and accumulated below him. Those behind him advanced forward, slipping on his foul mess, but paying it no mind.

  The first of the Dire Bears met with one of the goblins, striking at it with a heavy paw. The goblin wore a Viking-style helmet that looked a bit silly and out-of-place. It had a flat face with two nostril holes but no nose, and this feature made it look like a turtle. It tried to dodge, but it was no use. The bear shredded his face open, and the follow-up strike ended him.

  To the left and right, more goblins and bears were meeting in battle. The enemies feinted at the bears, unsure how to connect cold steel to warm flesh. But momentary hesitation was a fatal mistake. The Dire Bears ripped through them like lawnmowers cutting grass. The lucky ones were swatted aside, body slammed, or slashed with claws. The less fortunate were crushed in massive, bloodthirsty jaws, like the one Arcturus saw to his left who screamed as a bear gnawed apathetically on him, squeezing thick, black juice from its arteries. And the least fortunate of all was the one who was dressed in a bright red armor that distinguished him as some sort of higher-ranking goblin, against which many of the former prisoners must have held some grudge.

  Upon sighting him, one Dire Bear disengaged from the goblin he was about to maul, rushing to meet this new foe. He was soon joined by another, and a jealous third, all of whom were struggling over the privilege of rending this hated goblin in two. One bear grabbed an arm, another a leg. All dug their claws into its flesh to gain purchase with thumbless paws. The three bears gripped and pulled together in opposite directions until the screaming, little man was torn to pieces like a strip of muslin cloth.

  Demoralized and defeated, a few remaining enemies turned and scattered. The bears roared in victory.

  Arcturus, who had received a portion of the experience for some of the kills, and who continued to rack up points as other goblins died in the canyon he created to the west of the settlement, saw another level up notification.

  You have leveled up! Level 19. You have new skill points to spend.

  This reminded him to invest his points, and check his Character Display. Arcturus quickly decided to dump all of his available points into endurance. Endurance was the most important stat for Shapeshifting, ensuring faster shifts, and higher hit points for each form. It also boosted hit point regeneration.

  Character Display

  Name: Arcturus

  Level: 19

  Race: Human

  Hit Points: 400/400

  Mana: 200/200

  Vital Stats (0 available)

  Strength: 15

  Perception: 19

  Endurance: 75

  Agility: 15

  Dexterity: 15

  Intelligence: 35

  Wisdom: 35

  Luck: 11

  Abilities

  Stealth (Level 11)

  Archery (Level 10)

  Short Blades (Level 1)

  Alchemy (Level 18)

  Crafting (Level 1)

  Fire Magic (Level 8)

  Earth Magic (Level 44)

  Shapeshifting (Level 51)

  Death Magic (Level 15)

  Traits (4/4)

  - Original. As the oldest sentient being in Lydia, you have the privilege of access to powers that were banished from the land long ago.

  - Blessing of the Vampire Queen. +10 to strength, endurance, agility, dexterity, intelligence, wisdom. -9 perception in direct daylight. +15% to movement speed. Undead are less likely to be hostile. Stealth bonus against undead.

  - Druid. +10 to intelligence, endurance and wisdom. Shapeshifting, Earth Magic and Alchemy level without restrictions of player level. +30 to Shapeshifting. +10 to Earth Magic and Alchemy. +30% disease and poison resistance.

  - Wolf Soul. Unlimited use of wolf form during Shapeshifting: no mana cost, instant shifting, and shift to and from other unlimited forms. Nightvision.

  He had only joined this world days ago, and he already had two skills at or near level 50. He didn’t realize it, but this was unheard of on Lydia.

  The contingent of bears continued down the street, looking for Badger. As they came around the bend towards the residential quarter, they stopped in their tracks. A huge phalanx of goblins stood in their way, numbering far more than those that had been ousted from the camp by the feat of Earth Magic.

  “Retreat!” Arcturus called to his bears, turning around. There was no way to confront so many. Arcturus jumped into wolf form and led the retreat. The bears dropped to all fours and ran, padded paws pounding on the paving.

  As they crossed back through the prison quarter, a swarm of goblins poured out to meet them. They had found a way to cross the crevice and make their way back into the camp.

  Trapped between a rock and a hard place, Arcturus took the combat battalion in the only direction left, towards the stone altar in the center of the encampment, and right into Badger’s waiting trap.

  Badger was there, stand
ing tall on the altar in the center. Warriors stood in organized rows, waiting to meet them. Goblin archers were on every rooftop, but they held their fire. With hundreds of goblins at their heels, defeat was certain. Badger addressed them using the common tongue.

  “So this is the one who comes into my home and makes such a mess of things!” he began. Arcturus began pulling mana up from the earth. The goblins that pulled up the rear stopped and held position, waiting for their leader’s cue.

  “I have been told it is you who attacked my outpost in the forest. And now you come here to pester me. What is wrong with you? Don’t you realize that this is suicide?” he asked.

  Arcturus was barely able to breathe with the mana coursing through him. He knew from his last feat that there was no real limit to the amount that he could pull from the earth. This time he would gather as much as he could endure.

  To disguise his lack of responsiveness, he affected an injury by holding his hand to his ribcage as he spoke.

  “I’m going to have to ask you to stop eating players,” he said.

  Badger seemed to think this was funny, stopping to translate for his goblin troops. Laughter echoed all around the square as they hooted, hollered and slapped their knees in delight.

  “I can help you,” said Arcturus. “I know there are food shortages here. I can help you to grow food peacefully.”

  “I don’t need the help of another player,” scowled Badger. “If I wanted peace, I’d have it! Growing my clan requires lots of food, every day. And goblins are not farmers. Eating players is just part of what we do.”

  “Maybe we can make a deal? Give me back Fish, and we’ll all leave,” Arcturus bluffed.

  Badger stared at him as if he had shapeshifted into a tap-dancing octopus.

  “What deal? You are not in a position to bargain.”

  “I think you are mistaken. Have you seen what happened outside of your camp? Just one of these bears could destroy your entire camp. But I brought dozens.”

  “These things? Bears? Quit wasting my time. If you want to throw yourself to your death, go ahead and get on with it.”

  “Okay,” Arcturus said. You leave me no choice. We will kill every goblin, and tear this camp to the ground.” Gesturing to just one of his bears, he said, “You. Step forward and strike the ground with your … Earthquake Punch.”

  The bear complied, stepping towards the regiment of goblins standing in a perfect formation. They gripped their weapons more tightly, but did nothing. The bear lifted its massive paw, and slammed its palm into the ground. As it did so, Arcturus released his mana in that same spot, causing the ground to rip and crack open.

  The goblins made no attempt at hiding their terror. Their little hands connected to their cheeks in an exaggerated, comical expression of surprise. They were spooked.

  “All I need for you to do is step down from your role as leader here. If you do that, I will let this little village stay where it is. If you don’t, I will destroy it,” continued Arcturus.

  Badger snorted derisively at this, calling the bluff. “Enough. I don’t know what kind of trick you’re trying to play, but you’re clearly outnumbered, and I’m tired of your games.”

  Then he turned to the goblins and shouted just one word in goblin-speak. From the groaning of the bowstrings, and the screeching of blades unsheathing, the meaning was clear.

  The goblins roared as they surged towards the Dire Bears. As the battle broke, Arcturus took his own Dire Bear form. With the boost to his endurance, he was able to make the shift in just seconds. And he was shocked to find that he had 1,100 hit points.

  In the beginning moments, it seemed that the bears had a huge advantage. Despite being so badly outnumbered, they were much stronger than the goblins. The first wave of goblins hit them, and were plowed away like dross. Hairy arms swiped them aside. But as the goblins fell, more clamored over them, planting gnarly feet upon bloodied bodies, tearing their way into the center of battle. To the left, Arcturus saw a goblin climb upon a growing pile of corpses, leaping up into the air with its short blade, digging a deep wound into the shoulder of a bear as it was swatted away, dead before it hit the ground. Arrows shrieked overhead, with more than a few of them sinking into bear flesh.

  Arcturus was now in the center of the formation of bears, but it was scattering quickly. As the goblins surged forward, they would inevitably end up surrounding each of the bears and taking them down. In his new form, he had no way to speak. So he rose up on his hind legs and growled for attention. As he led the contingent south, they followed.

  A thin platoon of goblins came up from the market square to head them off. Arcturus was starting to give in to the thrill of war that he had long resisted. He picked up the first one to reach him, digging his powerful claws into its abdomen to grip the goblin as he lifted it from the ground. Then, swinging in an arc, he knocked back most of the other enemy combatants, discarding his ad hoc weapon. The body of the goblin slammed into the dirt, motionless.

  Behind him, there were others engaged in the retreat, swinging wildly to keep the pursuing goblins at bay. They moved as a group, and not a single bear had failed to taste goblin blood, even those in the center of the formation were defending themselves from attackers that seemed to ooze from between buildings and alleyways. One was digging a claw into a goblin’s brain by way of its eye socket.

  That’s when the first casualty befell them. The bear whose shoulder was pierced by the acrobatic goblin was struggling with three at a time. One was stabbing at his feet, another clinging desperately to his arm. This slowed him down just enough for a third to work a spear deep into his abdomen. The bear fell, and soon he was underneath a writhing mass of goblins.

  Doubling his effort, Arcturus led the bears on a charge through the market, where they faced less resistance. They climbed over obstacles, and one even paused to claim a piece of rotting meat from the table. That must have been one of the goblin-bears.

  The only way out was to push forward to the southernmost exit. There would certainly be resistance there, but it was the path in sight. Before they even made it to the western edge of the market, another bear had fallen in battle to the swarm that approached from all sides. The bear returned to his human shape as he died, and Arcturus looked away in disgust as he saw the goblins starting to eat him alive, ripping pieces of flesh off before his heart stopped beating. Once again they were surrounded. It looked like this would be the final stand.

  Arcturus directed his group to form a circle inside a heavy canteen stall. It was an eatery surrounded by thick walls—probably a security necessity caused by the food shortages. The bears lined up to defend each of the two entrances as goblins poured in.

  The bulk of the enemies surged through the largest entrance to the canteen, while others started climbing over the walls. Two bears guarded each entrance, slaughtering those who attempted to climb in. The others stayed inside, dealing death to those who dared climb over the walls. The situation was hopeless. While the body count would certainly be high, this wasn’t a conflict that could be resolved with brute force.

  Shifting back to human form, Arcturus began organizing the retreat. He asked each of the bears not defending the entrance to transform back to their original shape. In seconds, the powerful bears were once again weak prisoners. Two goblins, four elves, five humans, and a dwarf. Those who had held onto the black acorn found that it appeared back in their hands after the transition was complete.

  “Who still has the black acorn?” he asked, as the battle scene exploded all around them. Most of them did. “Swallow it now, whole, and get out of here.” Most did just that, transforming into birds in just a few seconds, and taking to the skies. As the others flew away, the dwarf approached Arcturus meekly. “I weren’t able ta find it again,” he wailed, with the desperation of a man who had realized that the most simple of his errors had doomed him.

  “It’s alright,” said Arcturus. He put his hand on the dwarf and shifted him to a Black Raven.
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br />   The two goblins also remained. Neither had been intelligent enough to follow his original instruction to keep the black acorn. Coming from a social structure that does not forgive failure, they regarded him fearfully, expecting that their lives were now over. He put a hand on each and expended most of his remaining mana to transform them as well.

  After the goblins had flown away, he shouted to the bears defending the entrances. “If you still have the black acorn, switch back to your original shape, and get behind me.” He had to repeat parts of this, but soon three of the four had switched back to their original shape, two elves and one human. It seemed like these were the smart ones. They ducked behind the fourth one, who defiantly pounded his chest and held back a surge of new goblins. He slashed at the encroaching goblins viciously as the rest of the prisoners completed the transformation into Black Ravens and flew away. As the last of these were lifting off into the air,the goblins began climbing up the walls of the stall, where they hoisted a fishing net over the top. There was no more chance of escape that way.

  Arcturus took Dire Bear form again, and joined the bear making his final stand. The enemies were climbing into the canteen, over the walls. They were advancing from both entrances. He sent one flying, and then another, but a short blade found its way into his haunches.

  You have been stabbed by the goblin! You receive 29 damage.

  He was cornered. But he did have an impressive pool of hit points. Gathering his energy, he roared and pushed against the oncoming goblins with all of his might, absorbing the brunt of their attack. A spear poked through his fur and into his flesh.

  You have been impaled by the goblin! You receive 51 damage.

  Digging his rear paws into the ground, he grasped the spear with his front paws and pushed through the goblins, knocking them backwards, toppling them like slow-moving dominos, climbing over them, stomping on wriggling flesh, kicking through them. He pushed out of the canteen as the goblins fell, but still more climbed over the fallen, many no longer attempting to push their weapons into him, but simply grasping at him. Arms curled around his legs, and fingers struggled to get a grip on his furry hide.

 

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