Battleborne

by Dave Willmarth

Red brightened immediately. “I can do that! In fact, it is encouraged.”

  “Great. We can set aside a little time each evening before I sleep. It’ll be almost like you’re telling me a bedtime story each night.” He grinned at her. “Also, if I encounter another one, maybe whisper in my ear or give me some kind of sign, so I don’t offend them without realizing?”

  “Signal?”

  “Yeah, maybe hoot like an owl? Or, I don’t know, something like this?” He went through a complicated series of baseball signals, just to mess with her. He stuck out his tongue, touched his nose, then his elbow, ran one hand across his chest, held up three fingers, then inverted them and waved his hand back and forth, gave her a thumbs up, and finished with a middle-finger salute.

  “That’s… what does that even… there’s no way I’m gonna…” She spluttered at him, and he couldn’t hold a straight face.

  When he’d had a good laugh, he breathed deeply and said, “Sorry, Red. Secret language from my world. How ‘bout you just clear your throat, and tug on one ear if a higher being appears?”

  “I can do that.” She shot him a suspicious glare, but moved on. “So, Regin is the god of smiths. He took common gear from the armory and modified it to fit you, but also improved its quality in the process. Probably without even thinking about it. The moment he struck it with a hammer, its quality rating went up several levels. If he’d been trying, you might have ended up with legendary level armor!”

  “You saw all of that? When I woke up and didn’t see you, I figured you went… home?”

  “This is my home, now. Or rather, you are my home, since I’ve been bound to you. I am fae, which means I’m usually able to cross between my world and yours only in certain places, under very specific circumstances. Being bound to you gives me an anchor here. But being as we’re both starting again at low level, my energy is limited. It tires me to remain visible to you for extended periods. Just know that I’m always aware of you, and what you’re doing, even if you can’t see me.”

  “Alright… so if I level up, you do as well? And as we get to higher levels, you’ll have more energy?”

  “Yes, exactly. When you reach level twenty or so, I’ll be able to remain visible all the time. At level fifty, I’ll be able to manifest physically, at least for short periods.”

  “You said you’re starting again?” Max continued to walk, keeping an eye out for goblins. The tunnel was straight, with no side branches or doors so far.

  Red looked uncomfortable. “Yes. Part of my agreement to be bound to you. I was nearly level one hundred just a few days ago. I must say this low level existence is very… limiting.”

  “So you… chose me?”

  “Well, not exactly. I was given the opportunity to be bound to a Battleborne. I didn’t know it would be you, specifically.”

  “And you gave up your life to come babysit me? That’s quite a sacrifice. I hope the gods, or whomever you made the agreement with, offered you a lot of gold.”

  She frowned at him. “You assume I’m a leprechaun! Just because I have red hair?”

  Max stepped slightly to his right, adding a little distance between them. “I’m… sorry? I mean, tiny size, red hair, green outfit, snarky attitude, I just assumed that all added up to leprechaun. What are you, then?”

  She crossed her arms and mumbled something even his elven hearing couldn’t make out.

  “I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you.”

  She glared at him. “I’m a damned leprechaun, alright!” Max carefully held a straight face. “But that doesn’t mean I’m doing this for gold! It just so happens I need to get away from home for a while, and they needed someone with wit, charm, intelligence, and a winning personality!” She stuck her tongue out at him.

  “Okay, okay. No more questions. I’m happy to be your… witness protection, or whatever. We’ll get through this little adventure together.”

  They reached the door at the end of the tunnel, which was standing wide open. Max paused inside the door, peering out from several feet back, searching for a goblin ambush, letting his eyes adjust to the light. Not seeing or hearing anything, he stepped out. They were in a forest, presumably the one he’d been in before. Tall trees were scattered about, and a clearing of some sort could be seen a quarter mile or so ahead of them.

  Turning to survey the whole area, Max found that the tunnel door opened from the middle of a large boulder that jutted out of the forest floor. Sticking his head back inside, he spotted a lever just like the one that operated the trap door. He pulled the lever then quickly leapt back outside to avoid being shut in, but the door never moved. There was a grinding sound, then everything went quiet.

  “My guess is the goblins broke the mechanism on their way in.” Red offered.

  “Well, I don’t want to leave it open for them, or anyone else, to raid the outpost.” Max looked at the door, which swung outward. Stepping behind the stone slab, he leaned into it, forcing it closed. Once it clicked into place, there was barely a seam to show where it was. But if the goblins already knew it was there, they could simply come and pry it open again.

  “That won’t do.” He muttered. He sat down and stared at the door, trying to work out a way to secure it. “I could.. collapse the tunnel inside.”

  “Doubtful. Dwarves build to last. And even if you managed it with that big hammer of yours, the cave-in might kill you. Plus, goblins are diggers.”

  Max considered burying the door, hiding it behind piled shrubs, even burning the shrubs in hopes that the stone would expand and seal itself shut. While he was thinking about the effects of fire, a smile grew on his face. “Uhm, how smart are goblins?”

  “Not very. They speak to each other in simple terms.”

  “Are they superstitious at all?”

  “Very. Each clan is ruled by a chief and a shaman, who share power. The shamans are the smart ones, using rituals and fear to their advantage.”

  “Great!” Max walked over to the closed door, and used a fingernail to cut a gash in his forearm. When the blood welled up, he dipped a finger in it, and began to draw on the door.

  Because of his troll regeneration, the wound kept healing, and he had to cut himself three more times before he was finished. Red looked at what he’d drawn, then at him. “I don’t get it?”

  Max looked at the approximation of his own face drawn in blood on the stone. His narrow face, eyes wide, jaws open to reveal sharp teeth. “The goblins were scared of me. Maybe marking the tunnel will keep them away for a while.”

  “But the next time it rains it’ll just wash off.”

  “Ah, but you’re forgetting, I’m an alchemist!” He winked at her. Pulling the magnesite stone from his storage, he scraped some into the palm of his hand. When he had a small pile of the dust, he dipped his finger in it and dabbed it into the blood of his drawing. When he’d traced the entire thing, adding the dust to his blood, he warned her. “This might go badly.”

  Taking the pack off his back, he located the firestarter. It was a simple clicker, like a welder would use to ignite a torch. One simply squeezed the two arms together, and it created a spark. Standing as far back as he could, he extended his long arm and squeezed the starter right underneath the drawing’s chin. There was a spark, then a whoomp! as the blood and magnesite ignited. Bright blue flames raced around the face drawn on the stone, then faded quickly.

  Skill level increase! Your Alchemy skill has increase by +1!

  You have learned the skill: Artist!

  By creating an image intended to be viewed by others, using a mixture of material, and making it at least semi-permanent, you have earned the Artist skill. There’s no accounting for taste.

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

  Red laughed out loud. “Very clever! I like it. And it really is a little intimidating…” She stared at the image of Max’s face, now burned into the stone. The intense heat had created sort of a crystalizing effect, making the black b
urn lines sparkle slightly in the sun. It was especially eerie when she gazed into the eyes.

  “Best I can do, for now. I’ll tell the dwarves, or Regin when I see him, that the door is broken. Hopefully this will serve until they can send someone.” He looked around. They were a good mile into the forest, the ridge towering above the trees back the way they had come. Max couldn’t see or hear the waterfall, and he looked east and west, trying to figure out where exactly they were.

  “Hey, Red. Any chance you have a map of this place?”

  “I do not. But you do. Just unfocus your eyes and think about it.”

  Max did as she instructed, and a moment later a map appeared, filling his field of vision. It wasn’t like the minimap on his first person shooters, the ones that showed his location, rotated as he turned, and followed him through a bunker complex highlighting nearby enemies. This looked more like an actual parchment map, with a small star marking his location. It was semi-transparent, allowing him to see the trees and mountains ahead of him. But when he experimented by turning in a circle, the map did not move with him.

  One good thing, it confirmed his guess at the cardinal directions. The ridge was showing to the north of him. The map had filled in with all the places he’d been since arriving in this world. It showed the tunnel, starting right near his star and moving up into the ridge. It showed the mountain itself, and an outline of dotted lines that he assumed meant he could zoom in and see the layout of the sentry post. The pond was there, along with a small triangle where his campsite had been. All in living color. The forest was various shades of green, the pond a bright blue, the mountain greys and browns, all the normal colors of stone and dirt.

  Beyond that, there was a much larger area filled in with grey shadow lines. After a moment he realized it was all the territory that he’d taken in from up on the ridge. The dwarves to the east, ocean to the west, and mountains to the north. The rest of the parchment was blank. “Red? On this map, the color areas are… where I’ve actually been? And the shadows are what I’ve seen, but haven’t been to?”

  “You got it! You’ll find as you move, the details will fill in. You and I are the only ones who can see this map. I do not recommend walking and looking at the map at the same time.”

  Max turned to peer southward into the forest. “Regin said the tunnel would let us out near an old road. I’m guessing since the battle here was a thousand years ago, he means really, really old road. Let’s head toward that clearing. Maybe that’s the road, and it’ll lead us somewhere.”

  “Keep an eye out for a stream, or even a puddle. We really need to get you cleaned up some.” Red waved a hand in front of her nose and looked disgusted. Max wasn’t enjoying the odor himself, and was prepared to jump into the first body of water he found, whether he’d sink or not.

  He checked his map, and found that they were west of the waterfall and pond by about a mile. “Okay, we’ll find the road, and if it runs east-west, we’ll head east. The pond is east of us, and the stream was running south from there, so in theory we should cross it pretty quickly.”

  Max set off southward toward the clearing. It didn’t take long to reach, and was pretty much as he’d expected. The clearing was long and narrow, only about a hundred feet wide. There were trees growing randomly here and there, mostly young trees, and not nearly as thick as in the forest on either side. Deep grass and brush covered all of the open space, which ran roughly east to west. To the east, it curved southward about a quarter mile from where Max stood, and was lost behind the denser forest.

  Taking his halberd out of storage, he began to walk around the rough center of the clearing, tapping the metal-capped butt of the shaft on the ground. After a few moments, it struck stone. Moving several steps, he tried again. More stone.

  “This must be it. We’ll head east and see if that castle holds dwarves, or someone else.”

  Red looked up at the sun, which was now nearing the treetops to the west. “It’ll be dark soon. I think you should focus on getting cleaned up, finding a campsite, and setting up a safe place to sleep. You might even consider going back to your previous camp, and setting out from there in the morning.

  Max considered her words. It wasn’t a bad idea. He had no idea if he’d find a safe campsite in the woods. He did need a bath, and there were fish in the stream he might catch now that he had fishhooks. He decided to follow the ‘road’ eastward until he reached the stream, then follow it back north to his old campsite. Stowing the halberd away again, he set off.

  *****

  Morning came with the singing of birds, and a light rain. The boulders hadn’t provided much in the way of cover from the rain, but by squeezing tight in between the two largest, he was able to stay mostly dry. He had piled more wood on the fire, keeping it blazing, so his clothes remained warm, if not totally dry.

  Before going to sleep he had dunked himself in the stream, laying right down in it and rolling around, letting the sand and dirt at the bottom scrub him clean as he held his breath. It was only five feet deep, so there was no danger to him. He pulled out his axe and halberd, and gave them a good scrubbing as well. When he’d felt clean, he headed up toward the pond.

  After stripping down to his diaper again and setting his gear out to dry in the last of the sunlight, he dug the fish hooks out of his pack, intending to catch his dinner. It didn’t take long to realize he didn’t have any fishing line, or string, or anything to tie the hooks to. So he put them away and got out his crude wooden spear. Standing in the shallows of the pond, he’d tried his hand at spearfishing until it got dark.

  He caught zero fish.

  Dragging all of his gear close to the campfire, he built it up as he’d done the day before, used the striker to create some sparks, then ate one of his remaining wolf steaks before drifting off to sleep.

  Now he was all packed up, dressed in his full gear, and prepared to hike back down to the road. “I wonder if the dwarves will be friendly?”

  “Well, your odds of them being friendly today are much better than yesterday. They would have smelled you coming, and turned your odious butt away at the gate.”

  “Kiss my rock hard butt.” He stuck his tongue out at her. Turning toward the tree line, he was just taking his first step when he spotted a small green head disappear behind a tree. His eyes darted left and right, catching movement in several places. One of the creatures was too slow to move when he looked its direction, and he recognized it.

  “Goblins. A lot of them, in the tree line.” He whispered to Red as he pulled the axe from his back. Instinct kicked in, his years of combat allowing him to assess the situation. “They’re waiting for me to walk in there, where they can surround me. Better to stay here with the rocks at my back, make it so only a few can get to me at the same time. Their arrows won’t hurt me…” That was one huge change from what he was used to. In his past life, if the enemy had managed to get into this same position, they could take pot shots at him or drop mortar rounds from inside the trees. He’d be dead already.

  The campfire’s coals were still red, so he tossed some more wood onto it, keeping an eye on the tree line. If he could build the fire up before they charged, they would be forced to come around at him from one side or the other. It wasn’t as good as having a wall in front of him, but every little bit helped. “Speaking of walls…” He pulled the massive dwarven shield from storage, and jammed the sharp bottom edge into the ground on his left side. Then he pulled out his crude club and used it to brace the back of the shield. It wouldn’t hold all that long, but this further limited the goblins’ access to him. He took out the halberd and his crude wooden spear and leaned both against the rocks behind him.

  Red watched him, nodding in approval as he made his preparations. Her gaze kept switching from him to the tree line and back.

  “They don’t seem to be attacking.” She observed. “Why would they sit around and watch you prepare? They outnumber you twenty to one, at least.”

  As his last prep
item, Max removed the goblin bow and arrows. The arrows weren’t in any kind of quiver, so he jammed the points into the dirt at his feet, leaving them upright, ready to be grabbed and fired. He took the first of them, and nocked it. Holding up the bow, he pulled as gently as he could on the tiny thing. It was made for a three-foot tall goblin, not his seven-foot frame. He felt like a fool holding a child’s toy in a life and death fight.

  “Well, let’s see if we can provoke them to charge.” He picked the tree where he’d seen the first head disappear. Aiming the bow at it, he waited for the face to appear again.

  What happened next surprised him.

  All of the goblins stepped out at the same time. Each of them held their empty hands up, taking hesitant steps forward and flinching as Max moved the bow from target to target. Stepping out of the tree line, they advanced about halfway to Max, then dropped to their knees. They were mumbling or chanting something, but Max couldn’t make it out. “Are they… casting a spell?”

  “Your average goblins don’t have magic, beyond maybe the Spark spell. The shamans root out any with intelligence and ability and either take them as apprentices, or kill them.”

  “And they probably wouldn’t come to kneel out in the open for an attack.” Max nodded. He lowered the bow and took a few steps around in front of the fire. The moment the weapon was down, another, larger group began to step out from behind trees and bushes. These were carrying what looked like food. They walked forward, clearly afraid, and knelt behind the first row, setting the food down in front of them. All of them began to chant the same word, over and over.

  “Chorrug! Chorrug! Chorrug!”

  Max looked over at Red, who just shrugged. “I don’t know. Don’t speak goblin. My guess is that it’s their name for you? Or, maybe it means ‘please don’t kill us, big scary murder monster’.”

  “Thanks. You’re a huge help. It does look like they’re peaceful. Let’s get closer.” Max moved forward, returning the axe to his back and showing open hands. When he got nearly within reach of the front line of goblins, one more appeared at the rear. This one was moving slowly, using a walking stick covered in trinkets, animal bones, and feathers. The others stopped chanting at a barked command from what Max guessed was their shaman. He strode forward through the ranks, taking his time and staring at Max. When the shaman’s eyes widened in surprise, Red snorted.