Battleborne

by Dave Willmarth

  “He’s just realized you’re only level two. My guess is he’s starting to rethink their position.”

  Max had been returning the shaman’s stare, and his Identify ability kicked in.

  Ugnok

  Goblin Shaman

  Level 5

  Health: 420/420

  Before the shaman could change his mind, Max took another step forward and bared his teeth. A few of the back row goblins panicked and fled. Others trembled, some squeaking in fear. Ugnok held his ground, but looked a little unsure of himself.

  “What do you want?” Max made his voice as growly and deep as possible.

  The shaman perked up at the words, then puffed up his chest and cleared his throat. “You talk common! Me talk common. Me Ugnok. This my tribe. We bring food, you no kill tribe more.”

  “Your tribe? Where is the chief?” Max remembered Red’s breakdown of goblin leadership.

  Ugnok grinned, clearly pleased. “You kill! Stupid chief, go in tunnel, fight Chorrug!” he pointed at Max. “Fight demon and die. Ugnok boss now. Ugnok not fight demon. Food!” now he waved behind him and barked a word in his own tongue. Several vary nervous goblins got to their feet and moved forward with their gifts.

  Max used Identify on a few of them. They were all level one to three, and most of them were scrawny and weak looking. He got the impression they were not well fed. Taking a look at the offerings, he saw bruised fruit that looked similar to apples, some questionable uncooked meat, berries, and he was pretty sure the one on the far left was offering him a severed goblin arm.

  Trying to keep from offending the little creatures, he looked back at the shaman. “Ugnok, I am Max. I am no demon, and I will not kill your tribe. You are right, the stupid chief attacked me. He died. If you do not attack me, you and your tribe will live.”

  Ugnok nodded, then spoke quietly to his people, who all looked relieved. Shoulders relaxed, and trembling lessened.

  Red cleared her throat. “Are you sure? This looks like some easy leveling, if you quickly kill the shaman first. Your biggest challenge might be catching the rest before they get away.”

  Max ignored her, and continued. “Your people look hungry.”

  Ugnok nodded. “Stupid chief take good food. Eat himself, or give to warriors. Warriors dead, too.” Max couldn’t help but notice the shaman seemed pleased about that situation as well.

  Max noted the shaman’s well-rounded belly, and suspected that the chief hadn’t taken all of the good food. “I have plenty of food. Thank you for offering, but I think your people should eat it.”

  Smiling, Ugnok bowed. He spoke to his tribe, and a general melee broke out as the ones with empty hands in the front row turned and tried to take food from the others. Max saw one of the ones carrying the raw meat start to gnaw on it, trying to gulp it down before it got taken.

  “Wait!” Max shouted, and then felt bad as every goblin except the shaman hit the dirt.

  Ugnok tilted his head. “You want food?”

  “No, but the germs on that raw meat are gonna give half your tribe madcow or something… Max trailed off when he saw the shaman looking blankly at him.

  “J…jerms” Ugnok tested the word.

  Max sighed. “Tell them to bring the meat and follow me.” He turned and walked back to the fire, which was blazing nicely with the additional wood. He picked half a dozen sticks and used his belt knife to sharpen one end of each. When the nervous goblins and Ugnok caught up, he took the meat from the nearest, and skewered it. Holding it up to show the others, he passed out sticks. Then he held the meat over the fire.

  It took a minute for the others to properly skewer their meat, but it wasn’t long before six big hunks of mystery meat were roasting at the end of sticks held by confused goblins. Max purposely did not identify the meat, deciding he really didn’t want to know.

  When the meat began to sizzle, and the scent wafted over them, he had to stop them from stuffing it hot right into their mouths. The other goblins had picked up the scent as well, and were now crowding around the fire. The one holding the goblin arm sniffed at it, then gripped the severed end and held the fingers out over the fire. Max decided to just let it go.

  When he judged that the meat was fully cooked, he gathered it up from the reluctant goblins and, using a nearby flat boulder as a cutting block, sliced all the mystery meat into approximately sixty small pieces. He then called Ugnok over, and handed him a piece. “One for each goblin.” He instructed.

  Holding the warm meat in his hand and sniffing, Ugnok nodded. He made a big show of calling the goblins over and handing each of them a chunk, as if it were a gift from him. Red snorted as Max grinned in appreciation. Ugnok was no dummy.

  Most of the goblins didn’t wait, popping the morsel into their mouths and grunting happily at the taste. Ugnok chewed his more thoughtfully, giving Max a tentative pat on the arm.

  “Raw meat is bad.” Max explained. “You must cook over fire. Not too long, or it will burn. Cooked meat tastes better, yes?”

  “Good!” Ugnok agreed. He said something else to the others, and several took out rusty knives. Max, thinking they were going to slaughter and cook a few of their own, was about to shout again, when the fruit bearers handed their food to the knife holders, who began to cut it into pieces. Apparently Ugnok was in a sharing mood.

  In minutes all the food had been parceled out and consumed. The goblins all looked quite pleased over this development, and Max chuckled. “Ugnok, you take good care of your people. Stay out of the bad tunnel, yes?”

  “Bad tunnel! Face of Cho… face of Max. We no go. Max home?”

  Max decided to go with it. “Yes, my home. Bad place for goblins.”

  “We guard, keep other tribes away.” Ugnok offered.

  “Great, thank you, Ugnock.” Max turned and picked up the goblin bow and arrows, offering it to the shaman. “For your people. To hunt meat.”

  Ugnok motioned for one of the goblins to step forward, and it accepted the weapon as if it were a holy relic. The shaman snorted. “Thank you, Max. What gift Ugnok give you?”

  Reputation Increase! Your reputation with Ugnok’s tribe has increased from Feared to Admired. Your reputation with the goblin race has increased from Neutral to Friendly.

  While Max was reading the notification, Red urged him. “Spark spell! And any others he can teach you!”

  Max adopted his best serious face. “You have magic. Teach me goblin magic.”

  Ugnok immediately looked suspicious. Max could see him calculating whether this giant demon creature would take his magic, then replace him as tribe leader.

  “I will not use magic against you, or your tribe. You are tribe leader. We are friends.” Max tried to smile without showing off his fangs, not wanting to accidentally intimidate the shaman.

  Reaching a decision, Ugnok said, “Sit.”

  When Max sat on the ground, Ugnok shouted some orders, and then pointed to a stone. Several goblins rushed to move the stone next to Max, and the shaman hopped up on top of it. Now roughly at eye level with Max, he put a hand on Max’s forehead and closed his eyes.

  Max felt a slight discomfort, then a growing pain as the shaman mumbled something. He looked toward Red, who just smiled and gave him a nod. A moment later the pain got bad enough that Max’s eyes watered, and his vision blurred slightly. Finally, the shaman removed his hand, and thumped the stone with his walking stick.

  “Max have goblin magic, now. Max one of Ugnok’s tribe!” The goblin smiled wickedly at Max, who was shaking his head. His vision was clearing, and he saw the expectant look on the shaman’s face. Looking around, he saw the other goblins’ wide-eyed stares as well.

  “He’s hoping to be able to claim the giant demon as one of his own, to give him status. Make the other tribes fear him.” Red offered. Max had been figuring something similar himself. He didn’t see any harm in it. Still, he couldn’t resist…

  “No, Ugnok one of Max’s tribe, now!” He growled.

 
The shaman gasped, hopping backward off his stone and raising his stick defensively. The other goblins, not understanding Max’s words, but seeing Ugnok’s reaction, began backing up quickly.

  Now feeling bad about the joke, Max held up his hands. “No, no. It was a joke, Ugnok. I do not want your tribe.” He let out a long sigh as the shaman continued to glare at him, stick at the ready. “Oh, what the hell. Yes, Max is one of Ugnok’s tribe.”

  The shaman relaxed, then raised his stick high in the air and shouted something. Immediately the goblin tribe started shouting and jumping around, feral grins on their faces.

  “That might not have been the best of choices.” Red cautioned. “If you run across a rival tribe, they may attack.”

  Max rolled his eyes. “That would be one of those situations I asked that you warn me about ahead of time?”

  Red just stuck out her tongue at him.

  Glancing up at the sun, Max asked, “Ugnok, you know the big castle over there?” He pointed east along the ridgeline.

  “Dwarf city.” The shaman confirmed. “Goblins no go there.”

  “Well, I must go there. And I must go now. Time for you to take your tribe home.”

  “Ugnok take tribe back to camp. Max, no go to dwarf city. Dwarf kill demons, kill Max.”

  “Max is not… I am not a… you know what, never mind. I’ll be okay.” Something else clicked in his mind. “Ugnok, do you know where the orcs live.”

  The shaman pointed southwest. “That way. Two suns walk. Goblins no go to orc lands. Orcs eat goblins.” He looked Max up and down. “Maybe not eat Max.”

  “Thank you Ugnok. Keep our people safe. Remember to cook the meat.” Max patted the shaman on the back, then waved to the crowd of his new tribesmen. Some of them copied the strange motion, waving at him, then waving at each other, grinning. Ugnok shouted something, and the entire group departed, the goblin with the bow taking the lead.

  Chapter 7

  Max sat down not far from the fire. “I’m not making much progress toward the dwarves so far.” He closed his eyes and thought spells, and instantly a new screen appeared. It listed three spells that Ugnok had gifted him.

  You have learned the spell: Spark!

  By focusing a minute amount of mana into a compressed ball of heat, you can create a spark of fire. Mana cost: 10.

  You have learned the spell: Confuse!

  This area of effect spell creates confusion among its targets, with varying degrees of success. Effect lasts ten seconds. Mana cost: 25; Area of effect:10ft radius.

  You have learned the spell: Drain, Level 1!

  This spell drains life energy from a single target, restoring the caster’s health and endurance at a rate of ten points per second. If target’s life energy is completely drained, caster has a 1% chance to receive a rare item or ability. Mana cost: 10/sec.

  “Where’s one of those fluffy bunnies when you need one?” Max was itching to test the Drain spell. It wasn’t exactly the healing spell he’d been hoping for. But in a way it was better. Not only did it heal him, but it did damage to his foes. Now all he had to do was not die by falling off a cliff or something.

  “Bunnykiller.” Red accused.

  “Hey, it was him or me.” Max got up and used his canteen to douse the flames. When he was sure even the coals were extinguished, he walked over and refilled the canteen with the sweet water from the pond. Stowing it in his inventory, he looked around. “Anything else going to delay us? Maybe random princesses are going to pop out of the woods and demand saving?” He waited, looking up and down the tree line.

  “No? Good! Let’s get moving.” He leapt across the stream and headed in a vaguely southeasterly direction, intending to intersect the road and follow it east. It only took a few minutes for him to reach the clearing. Turning to follow what had long ago been a stone-paved road, he got out his crude wooden spear to use as a walking stick. It just felt right.

  “Look at you.” Red smiled at him. “New magic spells, walking stick, all you need now is a robe and a pointy hat.”

  He ignored the jab, just happy to be making progress, finally. They walked in silence, Red eventually moving to ‘sit’ on his shoulder, though he felt no physical contact or weight. For a while, every time she moved, his step would falter and his eyes would dart in her direction. Eventually, though, he got used to having her there, and focused more on his surroundings. In among the high grass and younger trees, he spotted a few things that interested him. The first was a yellowed and cracked half skull still wearing half of a helm, both metal and bone looking like they’d been sheared by a sharp blade. The skull, what was left of it, had a pronounced underbite.

  “Orc.” Red identified for him. A few feet farther on, Max found a badly rusted and pitted longsword, which he kept in case he could salvage some of the metal.

  The moment he picked up the sword, a red “-2” floated across his vision, and a notification popped up.

  Grave Robber!

  You have entered and disturbed the site of the Battle of Brightwood, earning the Grave Robber curse. The curse will remove 2hp/sec until you exit the battleground, or perish!

  Before he was even done reading, a green “+2” floated past in the same path as the damage notification. His troll regeneration was replacing his health at the same rate he was losing it! “Is good to be da troll!” he said to himself. “Now I see why all of this stuff is still here.”

  For the next half hour or so, every few steps he spotted the detritus of the battle. He collected two round shields, several more broken and rusted weapons, and one item that came as a pleasant surprise. It was a burnished metal bracelet. He was about to put it on, when Red cleared her throat. “General rule, don’t put something on until you’ve checked it out. There are lots of cursed items floating around.”

  Max quickly used Examine on the bracelet.

  Torc of Rastian

  Item Quality: Good

  Attributes: Agility +2; Dexterity +2; Luck +3

  This bracelet was forged specifically for Rastian the Crafty, a halfling thief who believed he could steal anything, from anyone. Until he pickpocketed an orc, and got caught. He was reported to be delicious.

  “Never hurts to have some extra luck.” Max ventured. There was a hinge on the bracelet, which he opened, then clipped it onto his wrist. Initially he thought it would be too small, but it seemed to expand until it fit snugly. “I don’t think getting caught stealing counts as a curse, do you?”

  “No, a curse will generally show up in the item description. Or at least a hint of the nature of a curse. I think you’re fine.”

  With his inventory slots nearly full, Max began to move more quickly. He ignored the broken items that were only good for scrap, but kept an eye out for any more potentially useful bits. He was mostly staring at the ground as he walked, poking at the grass with his stick whenever he saw a glint of metal. Which was why, when the road took a turn around a dense grouping of trees, then expanded out to more than double its normal width, he didn’t notice. He didn’t notice the several shattered trees laying around in the tall grass, their stumps jagged and taller than normal.

  That is, until he very nearly bumped his head into a jet black tree. He stopped mid-step, jerking his head back reflexively. Looking up along the length of the very smooth tree, he quickly realized it wasn’t a tree at all.

  It was bone.

  One of several immense, curved bones that arched up from the ground in two rows. A few were broken, but the majority towered up above his head, not quite touching each other in the middle. There was no doubt in his mind what he was seeing.

  “It’s a rib cage. A skeleton.” He eyed the closest rib. From the ground to its upper tip it had to be twelve feet long. And some of the others toward the middle were longer. He tapped it with his stick, and it rang with a nearly metallic sound.

  “How big was this monster?” Max muttered to himself. He moved to stand in the center of what would have been the creature’s chest cavit
y. Turning in a complete circle, he took it all in. The trees were broken in a wide swathe to the north and south, as if from a plane crash or meteor impact. Toward the east, he could make out several clumps in a row leading away from the ribs, that he guessed were vertebrae, only each one stuck out of the ground about waist-high to him.

  “Big bones, long spine… maybe a dragon?”

  Red shrugged. “Maybe. That might be what killed all the orcs here. If they defeated it, which seems likely since its bones rest here, they likely took its head home as a trophy.” She stared at him for a long moment, one eyebrow raised, then added, “But they might not have hung around to harvest everything… useful.”

  Max was only half listening, and didn’t see the look she gave him. He was staring at the bones arching above his head, trying to picture the creature alive and battling an army of orcs. When she cleared her throat loudly, three times, he snapped out of the daydream. Her words quickly replayed in his head, and he looked over at her. “Useful?”

  She clamped her lips shut and just glared at him meaningfully, making it plain she couldn’t say any more. It took him a moment, but the light bulb finally went off. “Oh! Useful parts of a giant, legendary monster. Right.” He promptly dropped down onto his hands and knees and began to search, sweeping one hand, then the other through the tall grass.

  “Ow!” In seconds, he’d hit something sharp enough to cut his finger. Sticking the wounded digit into his mouth, he used his other hand to pull away clumps of grass. What he found didn’t initially register. It looked like a flat grey stone, about the size of a dinner plate, with a jagged edge that now had a few drops of his blood on it. Lifting it carefully, he found that it was much too light to be stone. Max quickly Examined it.