by Aleron Kong
She continued to keep her arm pointed at the golden light in the sky, and it grew as she fed mana into the spell. No words of Power spilled from her lips, and she made no motions for this casting. This spell was unique to her Place of Power, and it had been won by sacrifice and battle. She had never cast it beyond the bounds of her domain, but for her people, she would do anything.
Hisako unleashed her thousands of points of mana and took more besides. Her support mage collapsed senseless, his mana completely drained. Her other magi stumbled closer, their health falling quickly, but each placed a hand on her. She took their magic and fed it to her spell. The mote of light had become a golden mass that shimmered in the dawn light. One moment it was a sphere made of golden satin and the next, the walls of the globe flexed and became concave, then convex. The Hearth Mother herself almost began to swoon. Deep inside herself, she began to despair. Her spell required so much more mana this far from a Life ley line! Then the iron will that defined her mercilessly crushed her traitorous doubts. She did not stop. The other magi all dropped within seconds as she continued to funnel every mote of mana in her body. Then, it happened. She finished the spell.
The Hearth Mother cast Portal to Narina. The roar of a lion echoed out over the battlefield, and every debuff, curse and negative effect was removed from all present, enemy and ally alike. Everyone with a positive alignment immediately gained four hundred health, even if their Constitution was less than forty. Finally, any who had died in the past minute was brought back to life! Dozens of human, elves, gnomes, sprites and dwarves sucked in air that they never thought they would taste again. Eyes opened, wounds closed, and hands clasped hilts once more.
Richter’s mind was once again flooded with information.
All debuffs and negative effects removed!
You are no longer Blighted!
You are no longer Severely Dehydrated! You are no longer Dehydrated!
You have received +400 Health!
Know This! The sudden turn of events has significantly increased the Fighting Spirit of your forces! FS increased by +1000! FS Rank increased from Violent (+20% Damage) to Ruthless (+30% Damage).
Richter became aware of these facts simultaneously and, once again, learned that words were not idle in The Land. A ferocity built in his breast and a scream of rage welled up in his throat. All along the allied line, his battle cry was echoed, and the fighting began again!
The chaos seed blocked a blow aimed at a revived elf still trying to get up. His short sword stopped the strike cold, and with an incoherent bellow he hacked at the troll. His elementum short sword cleaved clean through the mercenary’s arm, chainmail and all. He then stabbed up with the form Crane’s Neck. His moonstone blade entered the troll’s neck. With a savage twist, he decapitated the troll, a wound it would never regenerate. Green blood geysered from the neck, drenching him in even more filth than he was covered in before. Richter didn’t notice, except to be slightly surprised at the faint cinnamon taste of the troll blood on his lips. The chaos seed searched for his next victim.
Yoshi had taken a grievous wound to the chest while under the influence of the Druid’s spell. His sprite armor had a diagonal gash where the barbarian’s axe had finally struck him. The adept’s health had been restored with Hisako’s spell, but his bent armor still stuck into his skin. He rolled clear of another attack by Heqht-jo and stood. With a control born of decades of sword practice, the adept sliced through the straps of his own armor in two precise sword strikes. The breastplate fell to the ground. Without the metal from his own ruined armor piercing his skin, the excess health given by the portal to Narina healed the last bleeding wounds on his chest.
Yoshi stared at the Barbarian. The adept drove one sword into the ground, ripped off the remains of his ruined shirt and reclaimed his blade. Bare-chested, he faced at Heqht-jo holding two rapiers the color of a pale blue glacier.
“Come!” the enemy commander said in goblin-speak, beckoning his racial foe closer. He knew that the end had come for one of them and was eager for it to be done. This one time, Yoshi found himself in complete agreement with a goblin. The adept set one foot back into a staggered stance, one blade extended and the other arched over his head like a scorpion’s stinger.
Heqht-jo exhaled in frustration, “Come on you forest r-”
The goblin never finished his thought.
The sword adept moved forward, his form a blur. Both blades struck against the goblin’s battle axe. Not against the head, but the haft. His ice rapiers cut through two of the Barbarian’s fingers. Heqht-jo roared and triggered his last remaining Rage. Red energy began to flow off of his body again while his speed, health, endurance and damage increased by a factor of four. He wasn’t the only one to use a Talent, however. Yoshi activated his most powerful attack, Flurry of Blades.
There was a reason that the sword adept seldom used Talents in battle. He used his precious Talent points to increase his overall fighting abilities rather than simply rely on what he called “tricks.” Lunge, Bash, Thrust and other Talents could be useful, but to Yoshi, a true Warrior relied on his skill and the strength of his arm. Still, he was not a fool, and twenty-seven Talent points had gone to purchasing this one attack.
Time slowed for Yoshi, and for the next three seconds, he moved faster than a diving hawk. His blades moved so quickly that it appeared that Heqht-jo was facing not two swords, but twenty. Rage made the Barbarian deadly, but Yoshi’s Talent was not just an attack. It drastically increased the innate skill of the Warrior. When that Warrior was Yoshi, a man who had spent decades honing his technique, Flurry of Blades was nearly unstoppable.
The Talent was not without cost. The three-second attack drained 45% of Yoshi’s stamina. After having already battled countless enemies, less than 5% of his green bar remained when the attack ended. In melee battle, stamina was the same as fuel in a car race. If your stamina ran out… you died. Yoshi had taken a serious chance using his Talent, but it paid off. Again and again, the adept’s weapons struck the barbarian… in only two places. Seconds later, the world sped back up, and the Barbarian was left to looking dumbfounded at his partially severed arms. Both forearms flopped, half cut away from his body.
The Barbarian looked up at the Warrior who had bested him in confusion. It had never actually entered the goblin’s mind that he would lose to a sprite. “But,” he began.
His face calm, Yoshi just shook his head and softly whispered “shhh,” as a father would to console a crying babe. Then his blade flashed and took the goblin’s head. The muscular body fell to the ground and black blood fountained into the air. So ended the story of Heqht-jo.
CHAPTER 41 – Day 141 – Kuborn 31, 15,386 EBG
Know This! As a War Leader under the command of War Leader Yoshi, you may benefit from his knowledge of the enemy. The sudden turn of events has greatly decreased the Fighting Spirit of the enemy forces!
The enemy War Leader has been slain! There is no other War Leader to replace him. -4000 to the Fighting Spirit of goblin forces. -1000 to the Fighting Spirit of troll forces.
FS Rank of goblins decreased from Violent (+20% Damage) to Unnerved (-20% Damage).
FS Rank of trolls decreased from Ruthless (+30% Damage) to Violent (+20% Damage).
The goblins broke. Barely over a hundred of them remained, and the creatures were cowards at heart, just as the sprites had said. The field was littered with their dead. They scrabbled over each other in an effort to run. Some even pushed their fellows into the spider traps in their haste. The allied forces pursued. The villagers, some of whom had never known battle before, were changed. They bellowed in greedy bloodlust, cutting their foes down from behind.
The troll mercenaries were much less affected by Heqht-jo’s death, but still understood that they had lost. More than half their number lay dead. A dozen more were badly wounded. Even with their regenerative ability, they would not be back in fighting form for hours or days. The mountain troll had taken a terrible toll on them, thou
gh now it lay dead. All four of its arms and legs had been hacked off, and an axe was still embedded in its skull, the haft sticking up into the air.
One of the remaining troll sergeants blew into a horn, two staccato notes and one long. Absolutely professional, they disengaged from the allied forces and took several steps back. Their shields and weapons were still in front of them, but they made no aggressive moves. One called out “Peace!” Terrod ordered the allied forces to stand down, and an uneasy stalemate was born.
Richter looked around, and for just a second, he thought that things might work out. They had crushed the goblins, forced their troll allies to surrender, and the biomancers were already downing more mana potions to heal the allied forces. He allowed himself a moment of hope. After what happened next, he realized he should probably learn the lesson of not tempting fate.
The battle might have ended at that moment. Even the Druid, Radg-or, was ready to quit the field. He reasoned that if he returned home with the Bloodstone, it would still allow him to save at least some face in goblin society. Heqht-jo had been the one in charge after all. He could blame the entire loss on the Barbarian’s temper. Amidst all of the blood, death, and pain of the battlefield, though, one more fight was still raging.
The panther had clawed the shale adder horribly, but the summoned Life fox had healed most of the damage before fading away. The adder was bleeding in spots, but its health was almost completely preserved. Despite the massive buffs on the puma, the fight had been over as soon as Richter’s tamed snake had gotten a deathlock around the cat’s neck. The undead knight had continued to attack, chipping away at its health, and Alma had remained attached to its head. With a last feeble swipe at the snake choking it to death, the puma fell to its side and lay still.
Since the first creature had been born to The Land, blood had become the medium of life, passion, and rage. The death of the panther broke something inside Radg-or. A voice that he had heard since first touching the Bloodstone, a voice that at first he had refused to admit even existed, increased in volume from a whisper to a shout. <
Only the Druid could hear the voice, but to him, it was as loud as a howling hurricane. At the same time, it was as seductive as a lover’s dark whisper. Since Radg-or had first touched it, the Bloodstone had been slowly exerting more control over the caster. Its approach was insidious and fueled by a confidence born of having corrupted countless magi through the millennia. The death of Scor left the Druid spiritually vulnerable, though. The Bloodstone struck ruthlessly and without hesitation, feeding upon and manipulating Radg-or’s loss. The goblin’s will crumpled and he relinquished himself completely to the Bloodstone’s malevolent will.
The Druid’s personality was immediately suppressed. What replaced it was a will that had existed since the gods had walked The Land. The black blood in the goblin’s veins grew hot. Every artery, vein, and capillary could now be seen standing in stark relief against his leathery green skin. The greatest change was to his eyes which no longer simply glowed red. They had changed completely.
Smooth round stones sat in each of his eye sockets, the same red color as the sentient item. The fact that the goblin lacked Blood magic still limited the Bloodstone’s powers, but the orb had enough power to destroy the rabble in front of it. Once everyone on the field of battle was sacrificed to fuel its magic, the stone could begin fulfilling its mandate again. It was true that the body of the Druid would burn out in mere weeks, but by then it could simply secure another vessel. Magi were always easy targets. The Bloodstone had learned long ago that those who manipulated power were easily seduced by the promise of more.
Taking over the Druid’s body took only seconds. Then it turned its gaze toward the fleeing goblins, the pursuing allied soldiers, and the troll mercenaries. They would all add to its power. The Bloodstone accessed the caster’s strongest magic, a spell Radg-or had never had the skill level or the willpower to fully master. For the age-old stone, casting it was child’s play.
The Bloodstone floated into the air. It settled into place one foot above the possessed Druid’s head. The relic shone with a baleful light, promising death to all who dared look upon its majesty. The entity inhabiting the caster’s body began to move both arms whilst words of Power spilled from its lips. Yellow light appeared on both its hands. The hue of the light shifted to red, green, blue, and back to yellow while it cast the Talent-purchased spell, Storm of Judgement.
The active spell was only limited by the mana and skill of the caster. The sky began to darken again and devastation fell from the sky. All of the elemental forces of the Druid’s Profession descended like a verdict from heaven. Spheres of ice that Froze enemies on contact, balls of fire that made goblins Burn, bolts of lightning that Stunned and golf ball sized rocks that Poisoned anyone unlucky enough to be near the impact craters began to fall from the sky.
The frequency and the strength of the attacks increased as the Bloodstone fed more mana into the spell. It expended the life energy of more than twenty sacrificial victims to advance to the second rank of the spell. Each level that the spell reached made it more powerful, but also cost exponentially more than the rank before. The strength of the spell began at weak, but within seconds it had progressed to minor. Even from the beginning, though, weak was a misnomer.
The spell’s AoE began in the middle of the battlefield, so it was the goblins trapped in the webs that were struck first. The lucky ones stayed unconscious as they were burned, frozen, poisoned, and electrocuted. The falling balls of fire began to burn through the webs, but any goblins hoping for freedom found it to be a false hope. Soon every one of them that could still scream was raising his voice in agony, victims of the Bloodstone’s spell. The AoE expanded as the spell grew in power.
The black clouds flashed with the colors of the four elements, yellow, blue, red and green. The flares came faster and faster, bursts of light accompanied by ear-splitting claps of thunder. The wind picked up from a breeze to a gale in less than a minute, until no one could hear even the shout of their comrades. Everyone on the battlefield looked up at the maelstrom in fear, but none felt terror as much as the fleeing goblins. Suddenly, their escape route was cut off, and they were confronted with a terrible choice; death by magic or death by blade.
Caulder blew on his horn, signaling a halt to his soldier’s advance. It could barely be heard over the wind, but the villagers started a hurried retreat away from the magical onslaught. Their shields and weapons remained pointed at their enemies, but they backed away from the Bloodstone’s spell as quickly as they could.
The goblins, lacking any leadership, did not fare as well. They scattered. A few tried to run through the magical maelstrom, but none of them were fast enough. They died in seconds. Soon, the living goblins were stuck staring at charred, frozen, crushed and bloated bodies of their comrades. They all came to the same conclusion. There was only one choice. The remnants of the goblin army charged toward the shield wall of the villagers, some screaming, many panicked, and all hopeless.
Caulder blew on his horn again, one long blast, and the villagers stopped their retreat. While madness fell from the sky, the shield wall reformed and they prepared to receive the attack. Goblins threw themselves at the soldiers, without plan or strategy. That is where they died. Many of the guard’s weapons were depleted of enchantment, but they didn’t need magic to finish the battle. The goblins were bashed, cleaved and pierced.
They fell in bloody messes and were trampled by their fellows wanting to escape the spell’s torment as well. Soon, the goblin army lay in utter devastation. When the last goblin died, Richter, Sion and all of the other allied forces sprinted towards the tree line. When they got there, they were greeted with the unhappy sight of unconscious bodies. Hisako and all of her magi lay in a mana-drained torpor.
“What happened!” Richter s
creamed over the wind.
“The last spell took everything from her!” Yoshi shouted back.
“I’ll carry her!” the chaos seed shouted. “We need to get the fuck out of here!”
Yoshi shook his head and held up a hand against the dust and dirt the storm was kicking up, “We will never make it to safety! Did you see that goblin caster? Hisako warned me of what it means when the vessels stand stark against the skin! The Bloodstone has taken control! It will keep feeding this storm until it runs out of mana or we are all dead! Look at how quickly it is growing! We cannot outrun it!”
“He is right!” Sion shouted. “The ravine will just funnel the storm’s attack! With our wounded, and having to carry the Hearth Mother, we will be killed! The pass is about to become a death trap!”
“Then what do we do?” Richter cried back. His soldiers had taken refuge amongst the trees. Those with shields were holding them in front of their faces. Even the surviving troll mercenaries had sheltered among the trunks a hundred yards away. No one even thought about continuing the battle. They could all see the form of the possessed Druid, glowing red like a torch on the other side of the storm.
Yoshi looked at the chaos seed, “We only have one choice!”
Richter looked at him in confusion then widened his eyes. He pointed at the storm. “You want to go through that?” he asked incredulously. The chaos seed looked out at the battlefield. The dead bodies were getting pummeled. Though he didn’t know it, the Bloodstone had funneled enough mana into the storm that it had progressed from minor to common. The size of the elemental attacks falling from the sky had grown larger, and they were falling faster than ever before. There were plenty of spaces that weren’t being hit with the elemental attacks in any given moment, but entering the storm and making it to the other side would just be a matter of luck.