Battleborne

by Dave Willmarth

  The ancient dwarf offered his hand again, and Max shook it. “Watch yer back, Maximilian Storm. Ye’ve been marked by more than one being of power now, and that brings attention to ye, both good and bad. Return to me with my prizes, and we’ll speak again. Fare thee well!”

  Max was opening his mouth to thank Regin again when the dwarf simply disappeared. He said it anyway. “Thank you Regin. For the gear, the information, everything. I’ll try not to die in some silly way like falling down the stairs.”

  He thought he heard the faint laughter of the dwarf as he opened the door and began to climb.

  The stairs were much easier than climbing the face of the cliff. Still, it took him ten minutes to climb all the way to the top, his legs doing the work without complaint. He passed two landings with heavy doors similar to the one he’d entered, but didn’t open them, because it felt like he’d be trespassing.

  At the top of the long stairway, an iron ladder was affixed to one wall, at the top of which was a trap door. Max climbed the short ladder, finding a lever at the top, and pulling it. There was a slight squeal of metal on metal, then the sound of gears grinding. A moment later the door above his head slid to one side, disappearing into the stone and leaving him in a pool of sunlight.

  Climbing the rest of the way up through the opening, he found himself atop a windy ridge of bare stone. The trap door was in the center of a platform surrounded by a low stone wall, just under four feet tall, which would have been perfect cover for emerging dwarves popping up for sentry duty.

  Not concerned about being seen by anyone, Max hopped up and sat on the wall facing back toward the forest where he’d arrived in this world. A cold wind whipped at his hair, and he was immediately glad for the clothing and armor that he’d been given.

  The view was stunning. The forest stretched out before him as far as he could see. He leaned forward, looking straight down at the pond below, and guessed his position was approximately a thousand feet up. A glance at the sun showed it to be nearly directly overhead, which was no help in figuring out what direction he was looking. He had a vague idea from the day before that the mountain was north of the forest. But he wasn’t even sure that on this world, the sun rose in the east or set in the west.

  Deciding that until he learned otherwise, he’d consider the direction of the forest to be south. Looking to his left, or what was now east, his gaze followed the jagged, rocky ridge line for miles. He could faintly make out in the far distance what looked like a castle tower coming right up out of the mountain. “Five bucks says that’s the dwarves’ city.”

  His voice startled a large white bird he hadn’t noticed nesting nearby. It took flight directly away from him, heading north. Turning to follow it with the intent of using Identify, he was distracted by the sight of a full mountain range stretching out before him. Snow-capped peaks, more than one of them emitting a wispy column of smoke that suggested volcanic activity, filled the horizon. As the peaks were taller than his ridge, he couldn’t make out what lay beyond.

  Lastly, he turned west. The ridge he was on sloped gradually downward to a point where it abruptly cut off at the shore of a blue-green ocean. From this perspective he couldn’t accurately tell just how far, but his best estimate was about ten miles away. The forest extended nearly as far, ending maybe a mile short of the shoreline.

  Closing his eyes, he committed what he’d seen, along with the approximate distances, to memory. Now he had a choice to make. He could head directly south through the forest, as he’d originally planned. Follow the stream and see where it led him. Streams usually fed into lakes or rivers, which one could follow to civilization. At least, that’s how it worked on earth.

  He could go east and try to reach the dwarves, or whomever occupied that castle. If that was his choice, he could either attempt to stay on high ground and make the trip that way, or go back to the low ground and follow the foothills.

  He didn’t entertain a path north. Hiking over mountains for days on end did not interest him at all.

  Or there was the westward path, out to the ocean. From there he could follow the shoreline north or south. He was certain he’d run across a port, or at least a fishing village, that way.

  “Wish I’d asked Regin which way to go.” He mumbled to himself. Sitting there atop the wall at the top of the world, he thought back to what the old dwarf had told him. After reviewing for a few minutes, two things stuck out to him. “If the waterfall cave was a lookout post, does that mean the orcs came from the south? Or did Stonebinder spot them from up here, coming from the north? And Regin said I wasn’t strong enough to face the orcs, yet. So…” he let his voice drift off as he weighed his options.

  He was staring down at the forest when he noticed a shadow pass over him. Looking upward, he stifled a scream even as he jerked away from a giant flying terror that was speeding toward him. The backward motion caused him to fall off the wall, landing on his back next to the trap door.

  The fall saved his life. Talons the size of beachballs with wicked-looking claws, each a foot long, swept past over his head, one of them striking the wall. The creature let out an annoyed roar that shook the stone and made Max tremble and want to wet himself. He lay where he was and stared at the monster as it flew away, then began to bank.

  Roc Female

  Level 20

  Health 4,900/5,000

  “Nope. Uh uh. No, sir.” Max scrambled down the hole and pushed the door lever back up as he descended the ladder. The stone door thudded closed just as he reached the landing. “Great big scary bird thing. No walking along the ridge line. Don’t wanna end up as a giant lump of bird shit on a rock somewhere.” He talked to himself as he quickly descended the steps. “That thing had to be… I don’t even know how to measure it! Its body was bigger than a damned Huey chopper. How the hell does a bird get that big? What does it eat? I mean, besides unwary chimeras hanging out on mountaintops picking their noses instead of watching their six?”

  Reaching the door that he’d left open on his way up, he paused for a moment to think. The surge of adrenaline from nearly being lunch had worn off, and he needed to decide how to proceed. In the end, there really wasn’t much of a choice. He could follow the tunnel back out to the waterfall, and either climb or jump down. That was a bad idea for two reasons right off the top of his head. One, big mama birdy might snatch him up and feed him to her giant friggin’ babies in a nest somewhere. And two, if he jumped or fell into the water, his bones would drag him down. He didn’t know how deep the pool was, or whether he could climb out before he drowned.

  “The stairs it is!” he pulled the door closed and continued down the stairwell. It was only a few minutes before he reached the lowest landing, and the door to the tunnel Regin had told him to follow.

  Max was reaching for the door when his elven hearing picked up a sound on the other side. He froze, his hand inches from the door handle. The noise had been muffled, and he wasn’t sure, but it had almost sounded like a voice. Leaning in close, he put one ear to the door and held his breath.

  “Zech firgla brgod!”

  Definitely a voice! In a language he didn’t understand. Now he had a new dilemma. If there were intelligent beings behind this door, were they hostile? He was supposed to be neutral to all races because of his multiracial heritage. Was this the time to test it?

  Max listened for another minute or so, hearing what he thought were at least two other voices. “Three on one, best case.” He whispered to himself. He turned back to the stairway and took a careful look, observing a thick layer of dust on the stairs, and his were the only footprints. So why hadn’t the beings on the other side of the door come in here? Were they too stupid to work a door? Not strong enough? Was the door locked? Or maybe hidden by dwarven craftsmanship?

  Max decided he wanted to find out. “Good chance to test out my new weapons, if they’re unfriendly.” He took a couple deep breaths, pulled the axe from his back with his right hand, and yanked opened the door with hi
s left.

  There was a brief moment of quiet as he stepped through the doorway, surprising several small creatures in a cluster about twenty feet down the tunnel. Then one of them screamed.

  “Graaalg!”

  The sound set the rest of them in motion. They began to scramble around, bumping into each other, knocking a few of their number down in their panic. Max strode forward, growling at them even as he stared at the screamer, who had been tripped and was on the ground being stepped on by its fellows.

  Goblin Scavenger

  Level 2

  Health: 110/120

  It stared at him with wide eyes, struggling to push another goblin off its belly and get up. It was hard to count them as they scrambled around, but Max thought there might be as many as a dozen goblins. Several had already begun to flee down the tunnel. But one bold little green monster stood his ground, raising a small bow and firing an arrow at Max.

  Max couldn’t help it, he flinched. Which emboldened a few more of them to fire arrows or throw tiny knives in his direction. That all changed when the first arrow struck Max in the face… and bounced off.

  Max was the one who froze this time, taking a second to process that an arrow to his face hadn’t killed him. Looking down to where it had fallen by his foot, he saw that it was a simple wooden arrow, with a sharpened point. No metal or stone arrowhead. He blinked, touching his face, still in shock.

  The goblins, on the other hand, instantly and unanimously decided it was time to go. Almost as one they turned and fled down the tunnel.

  “Oh, no you don’t!” Max roared, switching his axe to his left hand, he gave chase. His long legs covered a lot more ground than the stubby limbs of the three-foot tall goblins, but fear gave them speed. As he ran, Max pulled the halberd from his inventory, and flung it forward toward the goblins.

  His aim was off, and the heavy weapon went high. Instead of skewering one of the rear goblins that he’d been aiming for, it sailed past and hit one near the front. The pointed end slammed into its shoulder, spinning the poor thing as it fell. The shaft tripped up two more goblins as it swept across, which in turn caused a pileup.

  “RAAWR!” Max raced forward, his roar intimidating the little monsters, causing more confusion. “You shot me in the face!” He transferred his axe back to his right hand just in time to swing it at one of the archers. He couldn’t tell them apart enough to know whether this was the one who’d hit him in the face, but he didn’t care. Max powered the axe forward, and the dwarven steel smashed through the bow the little goblin had held up as a shield. It continued through, severing an arm at the shoulder, then embedded itself into the back of a second goblin. Shouts of fear became screams of pain as Max yanked the axe free and began to swing it at anything and everything that moved. A goblin coming up behind him lost a leg, one next to it took an overhand chop that split its skull.

  To their credit, the little monsters rallied. They came at Max from all sides, rusty knives and pointed sticks poking at his armor. Max didn’t bother blocking the attacks, staying on the offensive. He clumsily swung the heavy axe in wide arcs, cleaving flesh and splashing blood with each movement. The goblins all backed off, just six of them remaining.

  After one really powerful swing where he didn’t hit anything, Max stumbled over the corpse of the goblin he’d skewered with the halberd. Grabbing hold of the shaft, he put a foot on the body and pulled the weapon free. Dropping the axe, he began using the longer reach of the halberd to attack the remaining goblins. A quick thrust took one in the gut. Pulling it back, he used pure muscle to power the weapon to one side, the axe blade biting into the arm and chest of another.

  Screaming, the remaining four goblins fled once again. Max didn’t pursue. He leaned against a wall and looked down at the bodies on the ground. A few of them were still screaming and squirming, their wounds crippling, but not instantly fatal.

  Max was disoriented, and a little bit in shock. The up-close brutality of the melee fight was not something he was used to. The taste of blood, the smell of bile and emptied bladders, the adrenaline rush, the rage that had turned him into a nearly mindless savage.

  Blinking several times, he shook his head and took a deep breath. A quick glance at his body showed he was covered in blood. But his health bar was nearly full, so he relaxed a bit. Now feeling pity for the suffering creatures at his feet, he quickly stabbed each of them in the heart or neck, finishing them. Notifications filled his vision.

  Level up! You are now a Level 2 Chimera.

  You have earned three free attribute points.

  You have learned the skill: Polearm!

  Your effective, if not entirely accurate wielding of the halberd, using its thrown, thrusting, and sweeping functions has earned you the Polearm skill.

  Continued use of this skill may increase its level and functionality.

  You have learned the ability: Intimidate!

  The poor little goblins, seeing a giant with dark skin and fangs in dwarven armor, roaring as it rushed toward them, were understandably afraid, and yes, intimidated.

  Continued use of this skill may increase its level and functionality.

  You have learned the skill: Two-handed Weapon!

  This was a close one. You swung that two-handed axe like you were swatting at flies. It was ugly, but you did hit things. You did it with one hand, but the weapon was two-handed, so let’s go with that.

  Continued use of this skill may increase its level and functionality.

  You have learned the skill: One-handed Weapon!

  On further reflection, screw it. You did swing that big heavy axe with one hand.

  Continued use of this skill may increase its level and functionality.

  Max stepped back several paces from the scattered, stinking bodies, and sat down while he read the notifications. Still a little rattled, he ignored the snarky tone. Instead, he called out to his only friend.

  “Red? Can you hear me?”

  “Of course, Max. I’m right here.” The little redhead appeared in the air at his eye level. She looked him up and down, and wrinkled up her nose. “You smell awful.”

  Max shook his head, feeling tired. “You can’t smell, remember?”

  “Okay you look like you smell awful. Is that goblin poop on your leg?” She shuddered. “You’ve got goblin bits all over you. I mean, it’s like you tried to get as messy as possible. There’s actually a goblin pinky toe stuck in your hair. How the hell…” she kept up her ridiculous monologue until Max began to relax. Eventually, he responded.

  “Okay, okay. Enough.” He checked his hair where she’d pointed, and finding no pinky toe, glared at her. He chuckled, seeing her hold her nose and stick her tongue out at him at the same time. “Thanks, Red. I needed that.”

  “You’re welcome. And congratulations on your victory! Now, go loot the bodies, and let’s get you someplace where you can clean up. Because even if I can’t smell you, as soon as you get outside, every wolf and bear within miles will be able to.”

  Chapter 6

  Max picked up his axe and, after wiping it mostly clean on a goblin corpse, put it into his inventory along with the halberd. He’d clean them properly later. Next he touched one of the goblin bodies and thought Loot.

  A list of items showed up on a display. More than he thought a tiny goblin should be able to carry. Seeing his confused look, Red explained.

  “I took the liberty of making it so that touching one of the goblins looted all of them. No point in you having to walk around in all that blood and goblin doody to touch each one.”

  “Thanks.” Max was sincere. He’d been around more than his share of mangled bodies, but this was a little much. The list was what he would have considered low level trash items in his shooter games. Four leather loincloths, five leather bracers, three rusty daggers, one goblin bow with six arrows, along with a pair of crude fishhooks. But having recently spent time as a nearly-naked noob without so much as a fork to his name, he decided to hold onto all of
it. Even the loincloths and bracers. As dirty as he was sure they were, he might be able to clean the leather in a stream, and make something useful out of them. And the rusty daggers might work okay tied to a sapling as part of a trap.

  There were also a dozen copper coins, and one silver. Max was happy to see that when deposited into his inventory, coins did not take up any of the slots.

  Red took up position on Max’s left side, floating along next to him rather than riding on his goblin-spattered shoulder. Together they walked in the same direction as the fleeing goblins. After a long stretch of silence, Red asked, “Are you sure you weren’t some kind of hero in your past life?”

  Max shook his head. “I’m sure. Just a grunt, doing my job. Why do you ask?”

  “Well, first you come to me with the blessing from the Valkyries. Now you’ve been outfitted and given a quest by one of the gods. And you’ve been here less than two days.”

  Max stopped walking as his head snapped toward her. “Regin? He’s a god?”

  Now it was Red’s turn to be surprised. “You didn’t know? Did they not teach you about the gods on your Earth? Regin is the god of smiths and crafters. I was wondering why you didn’t bow to him.”

  Max shook his head and continued walking. “We were taught the basics of what we know as the Norse pantheon in school. Odin, Olympus, and such. But it is not the dominant religion on Earth. In fact it has been an obscure, mostly dead religion for about a thousand years. Mostly it shows up in fantasy books and movies. So, no I did not recognize his name. Maybe you can teach me more about the gods of this world?”