Beastborne- Mark of the Founder

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Beastborne- Mark of the Founder Page 45

by James T Callum

Westward held a great abundance of running water, though the additional sensations through the Wortling were beyond what Hal was capable of translating. All he could discern was the water, but not the type or what it was like beyond that.

  He felt something more but had no reference for the sensation. The closest his mind could grasp was a strangeness to the plant life there. Something unnatural but not altogether threatening.

  There were also several blank spots in that direction as well. Areas the Wortling could not sense, like an impenetrable wall of darkness.

  To their east, the trees were replaced by towering mushrooms. Fungus sprouted wherever it could find a hold and there was a great deal of activity. Creatures roamed the area constantly. Far more than any of the other regions.

  Most interested in the rocky region to the south, Hal sent that Wortling deeper into the region. Within a few seconds, Hal was blinded to anything and everything from that Wortling. For a moment he scrambled, worrying that the connection was severed.

  But that wasn’t it. The Wortling could sense nothing.

  With a mental nudge, the Wortling retraced its steps. A few feet later, the creature’s senses returned. Hal was sure then that they weren’t out of range. If it had, he never would have been able to order it to return.

  He doubted he had the same range as its original master and in either case, the creatures did not move fast enough to go that far so quickly.

  Recalling all four, Hal pondered the mystery. The Wortling that had gone south had effectively stepped into a great blind spot. It could sense nothing but darkness ahead and when Hal had instructed it to continue it was enveloped by that same nothingness.

  Recalling how Woodsense was worded, Hal reasoned that the rocky ground must have grown completely devoid of any plant matter. As Woodsense required vegetation within 60 feet, it stood to reason if there was no vegetation in that direction that the Wortling would be unable to see anything.

  It could move but it was effectively blind, removing the possibility of avoiding a sheer cliff or sudden drop. Which meant Hal was blind if he ever intended on using the creatures to scout in that direction.

  “We should camp soon,” Ashera mentioned, a few hours later. She idly moved her fingers around in the air. Hal recognized the motion as something he did when he was inspecting his inventory.

  “We’re pushing late into the evening by now,” she continued, “and we have not found any leads on how to rejoin the greater whole of our party. Once exhaustion sets in, our regeneration effectively halts.

  “And my stock of potions is dangerously low. Even a few scattered fights will be dangerous for us. We have been lucky so far to avoid any major fights but each hour tests our luck further, and I would prefer to minimize our risk. I cannot continue to rely on you to exhaust your HP to heal me.”

  “All right,” Hal conceded. He was starting to get tired, only the new threat of danger all around kept him alert. “We’ll need a defensible place to make camp then. The woods are too exposed, even with the Wortlings – and I don’t know how long they’ll remain faithful – camping in a clearing would still be fairly dangerous.”

  Even now as they stood in the middle of the dark forest, eight of his Wortlings flanking the group, he could feel the various creatures roaming out in the dark around them.

  Hal struggled to decode the strange sensations of the Wortlings at times. He was unsure if the creature moving on a tree limb above them was a threat or something as simple as this world’s equivalent to a squirrel.

  The constant awareness was draining.

  Of the four areas, the west seemed most welcoming. He wanted nothing to do with swampy bogs, and the highly active mushroom region was ill-suited for a campsite.

  And with his Wortlings being effectively blind to the south, he had no intention of venturing where his one advantage was taken away.

  But running water sounded good to him. “There is water to the west, maybe we can find a place to camp over there?” Hal asked Ashera.

  “I have been wanting to ask, how do you know that?” Ashera asked with open curiosity. The lack of suspicion made him feel he had been right to trust Ashera. She did not immediately cast doubt on what many would consider strange powers.

  It was easy to forget that other people lacked the vital bit of information that Hal possessed. He was so used to it being the other way around that it still came as a surprise and a shock to him.

  “When I Dominated the Wortlings-”

  “Another Founder power?” Ashera cut in, an excited gleam to her normally somber pale green eyes.

  Hal nodded. “When I did that, I gained access to all of their abilities. They’re little more than puppets. I can communicate with them over a fairly long distance, though I haven’t tested just how long.”

  And he wasn’t interested in the very real risk of losing control of one. The ever-present threat that the Worttree – whatever horrific monstrosity that was – would reclaim its minion and then immediately retrace its steps to hunt Hal down was never far from his mind.

  It’s what he would do.

  “I sent them out to scout for us,” Hal continued. He noticed Ashera paying very close attention to him. “They can sort of ‘see’ if there’s plant life around them. It’s hard to explain. But of all the areas they searched, only the west seems viable for a camp. The running water should provide us with some natural defense while we rest for the night.”

  51

  “To an outside observer like myself,” Ashera said, “you seemed to be standing or walking very woodenly without any awareness of your surroundings. It was very… alarming.

  “I worried something was wrong. Like you were going catatonic, but then I realized you were likely preoccupied. Perhaps with your stats or some other management that you chose to do in the middle of the forest. But your explanation makes worlds more sense.”

  Ashera cast a rare, critical eye over Hal. “I do not mean to nitpick but you truly have poor Level Up etiquette.”

  He didn’t know how to respond to any of that.

  Though he could imagine that he would seem distant, he never expected that he would look so wooden while issuing commands to the Wortlings.

  I guess my attention was fully focused on them and what they had discovered. Hal shook his head and brought himself back to the present. “What do you mean, ‘poor Level Up etiquette’?”

  “Typically you do all your Leveling Up at the end of the day. Or, if you are especially tired, in the morning.” Ashera tapped a finger to her chin in thought. “Doing it in the middle of a field or when out with your friends is considered rude. Though, in your case, an exception can easily be made.”

  “Because I’m new to all of this?”

  “No,” she answered with a reassuring smile. “Because you are getting a great deal more Level Ups than most people would. And yes, partly because you are foreign to our world. Which is why I wanted to let you know, as a friend.

  “Others may not be so understanding. Considering so many people will not know you are a Founder. An attribute I imagine you will wish to stay hidden for some time yet.” She looked to Hal as she spoke, and he nodded.

  He definitely did not want any more people to find out. Not yet.

  It was beyond lucky in his opinion that neither Mira nor Giel had tried to kill him on the spot. That they didn’t only deepened his trust in them. At any point, they could have opened a gap in their defenses while they were fighting in the street or in the tunnels, and Hal would have been easy to dispatch “accidentally.”

  “I appreciate the advice,” he said sincerely as they threaded their way through the trees. “Is it abnormal to Level Up as much as I have?”

  Ashera rounded a large tree to his right and appeared on the other side, her eyes wide. “Extremely. When I found you, you were the equivalent of a child. I mean no disrespect but a five-year-old likely could have beaten you upon your arrival. It is generally considered that teenagers are well into Level 5 and some
beyond.

  “Only those unlucky enough to be under the Founder’s thumb with no Letter of Vocation to their name - which allows them to pursue a Class - are still Novices by the time they reach adulthood. You have gained an incredible amount of Experience Points since I first laid eyes on you back in that prison.

  “Since you saved me from a life of servitude and dark deeds,” Ashera corrected herself, dropping her gaze to the soft earth of the forest floor. Though whether in respect or how raw the memory still was, Hal wasn’t sure.

  “We saved each other,” Hal said, trying to bolster her spirit. And, because he couldn’t resist he asked, “Was I really that weak?”

  “Oh yes,” she said, lifting her eyes to meet his. She stared a long time into his brown eyes. It was one of the few times she didn’t immediately look away. Hal had the distinct impression she was peering into his soul. Looking at something he couldn’t even guess at.

  Then she snapped out of it and averted her gaze once more. “We were all deeply impressed that you managed to survive so long. Being out in the wilds as you were – and among the Broken no less – should have spelled your immediate death.”

  There was that name again.

  He had never remembered to ask Elora about the “Broken” before. The people he had met were largely unfriendly and that first man had outrightly mugged him. Though, looking back he now understood the superhuman strength the man possessed was more accurately, Hal’s profound weakness.

  If he truly had the physical stats of a child - or less even - even the most basic person on Aldim would seem superhuman to him. And they had.

  “What are the Broken, exactly?”

  “Oh, yes.” Ashera pressed her palms together. “You would not know. Of course.” It sounded like she had to remind herself. Which, Hal guessed, she probably needed to.

  He couldn’t imagine all the minor cultural things that he would assume another person knew if they randomly appeared in Seattle.

  “The Broken,” Ashera began, “are those that live to the east of Sanctum Fallwreath. They live in the wilds between the lands of the Fallmark – where Founder Rinbast rules – and the Direlands – where Founder Tristal rules.

  “The Broken are those who tried to side with both Founders in secret and once found out were abandoned and left to fend for themselves. It is a lawless place. There is no protection from either Founder and instead, they use it as a buffer between their lands.”

  Like a DMZ, Hal thought. Smart. As cruel as it seems it probably prevents all-out war. Considering his initial encounter with the Broken, Hal found himself fresh out of any sympathy for the people.

  “How do they survive? If both Founders reject them, how do they get goods and materials? How are they protected against the Manastorms?” Hal asked, suddenly curious in the place.

  “Nobody knows,” Ashera said. She ran her hand along the bark of a passing tree. “It is a land of rogues, killers, and shady merchants. I am sure there are hidden channels for contraband that manage to slip through the borders.

  “Most of the Broken are there willingly, seeking to hide outside the realms of justice. I doubt the murderous people would bat an eye at smuggling.”

  Ashera clearly noted Hal’s raised brow. Her eyes sparkled dangerously. “For all the terrible things they do, the Founders do enforce the law. It is better than the way the Broken live, but only just. At least under the Founder, you know who your enemy is.”

  Hal wasn’t sure he agreed but Ashera made a compelling argument. “I guess it’s ‘better the devil you know’?”

  “I have never heard the saying,” Ashera said. She was quiet a moment as she turned it over in her head. “But I like it. Yes, I would say it is very much like that. Better to know your enemy than to be surrounded by countless cutthroats and thieves, any one of which may decide they want what you have.”

  Your Persuasion has risen to Level 4.

  +1% Persuasion success (+4%).

  +0.5% Antagonistic persuasion success (+2.0%).

  “Did I just… convince you to like that saying?” Hal asked.

  “Yes, why? It is a good saying.”

  Hal shook his head and smiled.

  They continued to the north around a particularly dense cluster of trees that they would have had to squeeze through. It was a minor detour and Hal didn’t like the look of them. The Wortlings’ Woodsense didn’t alert him to any danger but he had begun to learn that he would do well to trust his own instincts.

  Your Perception has risen to Level 13.

  +2% Perception highlight chance (+26%).

  +5% Awareness of magical items (+75%).

  With a gesture, though he could have easily done it with a mental thought as well, Hal brought up his skills window.

  [Skills]

  Survival

  Stealth: 6

  Darkvision: 3

  Survival: 0

  Perception: 13

  Investigation: 7

  Manatree: 0

  Combat

  Improvised: 4

  Sword: 6

  Parry: 2

  Magic

  Enfeebling: 6

  Beast Magic: 6

  Social

  Leadership: 11

  Persuasion: 4

  Even though he had spent a good deal of time with the Rangers, his Survival was incredibly low. It was the only skill he had that was still at Level 0. Not counting Manatree, considering he recently unlocked it.

  And he had no idea how to be a Manatree. He had no Manatree powers that he could use to increase it. The only thing he could do was continue to listen to the little voice he thought was the Manaseed’s imparted intuition.

  Hal supposed his low Survival made some sense, given his past relationship with camping. He never camped without an RV. And that, he understood clearly even as a child, was not camping.

  But he wished he could have an RV now. Complete with a/c, a generator for all his devices, and even if they couldn’t get a signal, plenty of stored movies, DVDs, or Blu-rays if he absolutely had to go without a computer.

  Foolish daydreaming aside, Hal turned toward the west and immediately pulled up short. Ashera, who had been walking close by, nearly bumped into him. Vorax scuttled up from behind and, apparently oblivious, ran right into Hal’s calf.

  “Ow! Hey, watch out, Vorax.”

  The confused imagery the mimic sent back reminded Hal that Vorax didn’t understand what he said, aside from his name. Vorax perked up when he heard his name.

  He liked his name very much. And he liked Hal saying his name even more.

  Instead of a knee-jerk reaction, Hal sent a friendly inquiry to the creature. He wanted to know if it was hungry.

  Vorax’s response was the same imagery that Hal had used when he explained to Vorax what his name meant. An insatiable black hole surrounded by a velvety purple lining.

  Hal took that to mean it was always hungry but the lack of urgency to the mimic’s communication told him that it likely didn’t need to eat. Hal needed to find a way to differentiate between the two but resolved to leave that as a problem for future Hal.

  He had enough problems to deal with at the moment.

  “What is it?” Ashera asked.

  Hal pointed. “This is west.”

  Ashera gave him a curious look. “I am sorry. I do not follow.”

  “A few weeks ago I couldn’t tell you west from east, even if I was using a compass,” Hal explained. “Now I suddenly know where each cardinal direction is like it’s tattooed on my brain.”

  The Sin Keeper was silent a moment before she said, “It is a common trait in animals to understand the basic directions of the world. Perhaps, as you delve deeper into this beasthood of yours, you will gain small powers such as this?”

  It still bothered Hal, but he had to admit he couldn’t find much of a flaw in Ashera’s logic. As they continued westward, with three Wortlings moving ahead of them – the one that had gone east to the mushrooms was still catching up to their
rear – Hal wondered what other changes he might undergo.

  * * *

  Ashera helped Hal get a basic campsite set up. At Hal’s insistence, she directed rather than did any of the work herself. Under her tutelage, he got the campfire going, prepared the grounds, unfurled their bedrolls, and set up a basic cookpot on the fire once it got started in earnest.

  Your Survival has risen to Level 1.

  +5% Camping regeneration (205%).

  +5% Flora & Fauna identification. (+5%).

  +1% Well Rested bonus (+1%).

  You have unlocked the Well Rested trait.

  For most people, sleeping on the cold hard ground is uncomfortable. The ever-present threat of monsters keeps most people awake at night. But there is a peace to the wilderness, a natural order of things that you have managed to understand. While others toss and turn, you are able to find a deeper sleep.

  Increased EXP and Skill EXP.

  Increased HP, SP, and MP.

  Increased HP, SP, and MP Regeneration.

  Duration: Equal to time slept.

  Hal’s head shot up at the notification. “Wait, I get a bonus for sleeping?” Hal asked in a strangled voice.

  Ashera giggled. “I take it you just now Leveled your Survival?”

  Sitting down beside the curling flames of the campfire, Hal nodded.

  “A lot of people think that you need a safe, warm bed, and other nonsense to get a good night’s rest,” Ashera said, setting out ingredients for the night’s stew.

  “The truth is,” she said, wagging a leek at him. “It is highly dependent upon your Survival Skill. Now that you have, I presume, unlocked the trait it will be with you forever. The bonus starts out small but it grows over time.

  “Now if you rest in an inn or somewhere even more comfortable, you will gain the Well Rested Buff. Something many people go their whole lives and never get. You will find that the quality of your bedding and the relative safety of your sleeping quarters increases the bonus.”

 

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