by Ryan DeBruyn
“Crash, how are all of the Gartusk from the same planet, wouldn’t they fight amongst themselves?”
“Master, the Gartusk is a type of evolutionary lifeform. So, as they gain strength, their appearance changes. Goblins are the children or weakest members of the populace. When a goblin reaches the E-ranks, the body evolves to a hobgoblin. This increases their strength, speed, and endurance alongside their Sea of Qi size. Of course, their intelligence doesn’t climb with this evolution. Still, because of this hereditary trait, they are ranking amongst the strongest races in the universe.”
“Wait, so they just automatically get stronger as they move through the ranks? That’s completely unfair! Humans don’t even know how to train their physical stats—or mental ones, for that matter. Actually, I still don’t understand how I am going to advance those.”
“You will understand when the time is right.”
“Come on, Crash,” I whine before thinking better of it. “Fine. What are the other races?”
“Gartusk, Drakonid, Beastkin, Undead, and Insectoid are the five races to have completed the Tower and chosen invasion,” Crash states dispassionately. “Would you like to know what races have yet to conquer the Tower?” I blink, thinking about each race and trying to categorize each dungeon to the race. I find a disturbing consistency with almost all of them. . .
“Uh, sure. But I also want to know the dungeons that are associated with the races mentioned.”
“As you wish, Master. The other five races that haven’t conquered the Tower are Dwarves, Elves, Fairies, Merfolk, and yourselves.
“For your second question. Drakonids are Kobolds at the F-ranks, followed by Lizardkin, Lizardmen, High Lizards, Wyvernkin, Drakekin, and Dragonkin. Undead are Skeletons at the F-ranks, followed by Zombies, Ghouls, Mummies, Death Knights, Liches, and Lamia. Insectoids are—”
“Hold on, are all the races that are invading evolutionary?” I interject, stomach falling. That can’t be right. Five races completing the tower, and all of them evolutionary?
“Yes, Master. Shall I continue?” Crash asks with no inflection.
“What in the Seven Towers?!” I curse. I was right, the races that are evolutionary have a completely unfair advantage. Just to ensure I am right, I follow up. “And the races in the tower aren’t evolutionary?”
“Correct again, Master,” Crash states, so dryly that I can’t help but feel betrayed. He doesn’t even understand the issue. “Shall I continue?”
Chapter 20
August 31st, 151 AR
Jeff Turle
I sleep fitfully, partially worried that the goblin will die if I’m not awake, and mostly terrified that it will escape and kill me if I do sleep. I eventually solve the dilemma by asking Crash to wake me up if the goblin stirs or needs something. Thus my confusion when I wake up naturally.
It even takes me a few moments to remember why I was so anxious, but when I do, I shoot up from my bed and race to the goblin’s side. Did Crash just let the creature die? I feel for a pulse and find that it is much stronger than the previous night. In fact, all the wounds are closed, and it looks like the goblin is through the worst of it.
The dark black eyes of the goblin shoot open, and I can literally see the black pupil shrink, revealing white as it focuses on me. Instantly, all of the rope bonds tense, and the goblin tries to do something. Whether it is trying to attack me or escape, I can’t be sure. Still, once it realizes it can’t move, it begins snapping its teeth angrily. Saliva exits its mouth as if there is water boiling within.
“Wait, I saved you.” I try placating the creature and show it my hands. “I am not going to hurt you.” My words only make the goblin jerk around more angrily in a futile attempt to shimmy out of the bonds.
“Master, you should try to speak Gartuski if you hope to calm it down.”
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath to calm myself from the wave of embarrassment that washes over me. I thought I was speaking Gartuski. When I open my eyes, I focus on the goblin and will my words in its language.
“Please stop thrashing. I am not going to hurt you,” I growl out in the strange, guttural language. The goblin stops and stares at me immediately, pausing for a moment before it resumes thrashing, speaking to itself.
“Ugly square-tooth gave drug. Mur hearing things.”
“You aren’t hearing things. Stop thrashing, and we can talk.” Strangely when I try to say certain words, they come out in English. I replay the last message and realize I really only said, “. . .hearing things. Stop thrashing talk,” with English words mixed in.
It’s strange having a language shoved into your head because, while you know words and rules, you aren’t aware of them. Thinking about it, though, brings to my mind the problem. Gartuski, as a language, doesn’t have specific words. It is how you connect the growls and barks together that insinuate the words’ meanings in the sentence. Like ugly square-tooth was barked a bit, and so it meant a person. Well, in this case me.
“Ugly one understand Mur?” the goblin asks, and this time, I recognize that there aren’t any words he is using for you, I or me in the language. At least as far as I can tell from listening and studying what knowledge got shoved into my brain.
I attempt substituting in names instead of those words. “Yes, Jeff understand. Jeff save Mur.” Okay, they are a little complicated, and making the exact noises with my mouth will take some work. Plus there is no growl for Jeff. So I am essentially calling myself white-goblin.
“Jeff speak like child. Who teach square-tooth Gartuski?”
“Jeff learn Gartuski in paper-group.” By the Seven Towers, this is a challenge. I don’t even think my body can create half the sounds my mind wants it to make. In other cases, I don’t know the word needed and need to substitute two, like paper-group for a book. It’s definitely frustrating.
“Okay, grass-chewer. Jeff let Mur go and won’t be problem. Mur leave and Jeff never see Mur again. If don’t trade, then clan comes.”
“Mur clan attack human group. All dead except Mur. Jeff save Mur,” I respond, repeating parts of sentences I already know. Mur’s face falls, and for a split second, his eyes are distant. He snaps back to the present with a headshake.
“Jeff lie. Tell Mur truth.” The goblin begins growling loudly and trying to break out of the bonds again.
My head falls. I had lied and that is why Mur is tied up in the Training Room. That is why the others are all dead. But I still can’t let him go if he is going to attack me. Standing up, I look to Crash’s blue form and ask, “You’re sure these ropes can hold him?”
“Yes, Master.”
There isn’t much I can do for Mur right now. I have made my introduction and truly don’t plan to hurt him. I will even let him go if that’s what he wants, but I don’t really want to risk him attacking or bringing a group of goblins here until he calms down. Still, I don’t think staying here is a good idea either after my near-death experience with my first dungeon group.
“Crash, if Mur leaves, will he be able to come back in?” I ask my AI, wanting to make sure that this place remains safe. My body shivers, and I realize that it isn’t only goblins that I’m worried about.
“No, Master. Only people to whom you grant permission can see the portal and enter the Training Room. As we informed you last night, the move feature has a cooldown, and you will have to wait a full month before we can relocate again.” My jaw clenches briefly, and I close my eyes.
This isn’t new information, seeing as Crash told me last night when I relayed my near-death experience to it. I already got my indignation out with Crash when it informed me the first time. This is definitely something that it could have told me before moving to the biggest Suburb in Toronto.
“Thank you for reminding me, Crash,” I grind out from between my teeth and then turn to leave the sleeping area. Over my shoulder, I say to Mur, “When ready talk, Jeff listen.”
I prepare my customary egg and toast for breakfast but take the
recipe that adds Leporid meat fried in a pan. Maybe it’s the smells of the meat, butter, or toast, but I begin to hear noises from the cot area.
“Mur talk. Mur talk. Come back,” Mur shouts from the direction of the cots. I glance across the training room to the spaced-out cots farthest from the entry stairs and see Mur is rattling around and making his cot hop in his agitation.
At this point, I am not in a rush to head back to the goblin’s side and choose to enjoy my food instead. This causes the shouting to intensify for a time before subsiding. I do bring an additional plate I cooked over to Mur’s bedside, though, once I’m finished. Perhaps food will entice the Gartusk more than words. As soon as I come into view, I find black irises glaring in my direction.
“What do Jeff want with Mur? Why Jeff torture Mur?” Mur questions angrily. This question causes me to groan because the damn goblin doesn’t seem to understand that explaining things isn’t going to be easy for me.
“Jeff want nothing from Mur. Jeff save Mur. Mur assure Jeff not hurt, Mur go free,” I say while pointing at the stainless-steel stairs and the portal at the top. Afterward, I stretch my jaw and massage my neck—even that relatively basic explanation tests muscles I didn’t know I had.
“Jeff give Mur food and let Mur leave? Mur just need to not attack?” the goblin responds and then nods emphatically. “Okay. Mur agree. No attack and leave after eat meat.” I look to Crash.
“Do I trust him?”
“Master, there are only a few translated books on the Gartusk. Perhaps you should read The Honor of an Orc. An orc’s honor cannot be questioned if he swears by his tribe. To question a Gartusk after this pronouncement is the highest insult,” Crash suggests in his unique way. Looking back at Mur, I shrug. It can’t hurt to try.
“Swear on tribe and pride-honor Mur not hurt Jeff. Mur leave.” Mur’s eyes narrow fractionally, but after a moment, he nods.
“Mur swear on Green Peace Tribe Honor.”
After that, I nervously untie the knots. It took me a few moments to conclude that I only have two options: let Mur go or kill him. Since I can speak to him, the killing thing is pretty much impossible. So, here we are—I untie Mur’s legs first, and he doesn’t try to kick me, which I deem progress.
His hands are next, and once he has one of them free, I leave him to untie the last restraint as I step back, watching him closely. I’m ready to pull the dagger out and defend myself if I have to. I even look to Crash, trying to convey my plans to use him as a distraction with my eyes. The AI just stares back, and I move closer to it—the dummy will be my distraction whether it wants to be or not.
All my preparation turns out to be useless because Mur unties the bond and sits up calmly. With his hands now free, he grabs the bacon and begins chewing. I shiver as I watch the sharp teeth shred the meat with predatory efficiency.
Mur finishes the rest of the plate by dumping the eggs on toast into his mouth, then stands up and walks toward the stairs. As soon as he raises his front foot and touches the first stair, he pauses and turns his head back to me and Crash, who are still standing together, watching.
“Thanks for saving Mur, square-tooth,” he says before rushing up the stairs and out of the portal. My held breath escapes loudly, and I sit down on a nearby cot.
“Crash, thank you for your help. I don’t know what came over me to save the goblin.”
“You’re welcome, Master. Have you given any thought to reporting the murderous group to the Suburb?” This is something else the AI suggested after my explanation the previous night. I take a deep breath and shake my head.
“Crash, I really don’t think it’s a good idea to go back to the Suburb at all. The only groups that would take an F-rank are groups I don’t want to join.”
“So, you will train in here for the next month?” Crash asks with no inflection, but it sure sounds like an accusation to me.
“Crash, let’s talk about something else. I have a lot of loot to go through. . .” I say. I know that going back to the Suburb is the fastest way for me to grow. I also know that, if I don’t report them, Ride or Die may kill another unsuspecting victim, but I am not ready to think about it more.
“Yes, Master. You should pull it out of the subspace.”
About a minute later, I am surrounded by goblin corpses again, and it relights the guilt I was feeling earlier with Mur. I did at least save one of them. Crash asks, “Master, why did you stop, or is this all the loot you have?”
“No, these are the goblins that saved my life, Crash. I was going to try to bury them,” I whisper to the floor.
“Master, why would you bury a dungeon minion? Twenty-four hours after they die, they are usually resummoned from the portal into a new body.”
“They’re resummoned? The same ones? Like these goblins aren’t dead?” I ask. If that was true, I don’t even need to feel bad about their deaths, right?
“No, sire, these minions are quite dead.” My mouth falls open at Crash’s blunt words, and it continues, “Their energy shall return to the dungeon boss, and it can decide whether to rank up or resummon its minions. The minions that are summoned aren’t the same—” Crash cuts off with the same tooth-rattling noises followed by three beeps. “We apologize, Master. It seems that explaining the deeper workings of dungeons is prohibited.”
I roll my eyes and sigh. What had Crash been about to say? He was informing me that the monsters or minions killed will come back. A term the mercenaries and Alrick used for the same phenomenon was respawn. But was he insinuating that the minions would somehow be different? It sure felt that way. So, I’m right back to feeling guilty about the goblins dying on my account.
“Master, we assure you. You do not need to feel bad about their deaths,” Crash adds after a time. His voice is monotone, but his head is tilted and he’s considering me closely. I narrow my eyes and nod to him. I can only trust him at this point. It doesn’t fully push away my guilt, but it does alleviate it enough that I return to pulling the loot from my subspace.
Leporid meat joins the pile next; then a large, mostly butchered, Chunkalunk’s corpse; assorted crude weapons; and a pile of acorns all follow. Crash walks around each stack and nods as he likely catalogs everything he finds. Crash stops when he reaches the pile of acorns and points to one in particular.
“This can be used right away, Master,” the AI says.
I walk over to pick up the heavy acorn. Right, the quest item. “How can I use this right away, Crash?”
Crash doesn’t answer but leads the way toward the stairs. He moves behind and under them and comes to a stop, pointing at a holo-puck I somehow missed, but then I remember a pile of rubble was here on my first inspection.
“Sire, you can turn in daily dungeon quests from the Training Room here.” The puck displays a screen, and I approach it to get a closer look. I recall Crash mentioning other quests that offered bitcoins earlier. I dismissed them because the AI said I needed access to the Tower, Spire, or dungeons. Unfortunately, that fact doesn’t help with my irritation. Couldn’t Crash have reminded me? What if I hadn’t looked through the acorns?
“Thanks for pointing this out, Crash. Good thing I picked up the acorns,” I mumble, letting a bit of my frustration out.
“Very true, Master. Imagine if you’d left them behind.”
I close my eyes for a moment, stuck between finding Crash’s remark funny or irritating. Shaking my head, I walk up to the wall and find two quests.
*The Training Room [Purple]*
Quest Displayed: 1 of 2
Dungeon Daily Quest
Capture the quest item in the boss room of any dungeon to complete this quest. The rank of the boss item will determine the rewards.
Quest item detected.
Name – Rank
Chunkalunk’s Favorite Acorn – E
Reward(s): Choose one
1) 25 E-rank Monster Cores
2) +5 Free Points
3) 1 F-rank Add-on for the Training Room
&nb
sp; Do you wish to turn in this quest?
Yes | No
My irritation spikes, having seen another option to buy a shop. . .
“Crash, I was trying to collect one hundred monster cores when this was an option the whole time?” I say disappointedly as I turn toward the AI.
“Yes, sire,” Crash states with a curt nod. “However, you were supposed to come back and talk with me after going to town. Not enter a dungeon’s boss portal. . .”
Chapter 21
August 31st, 151 AR
Jeff Turle
*The Training Room [Purple]*
Quest Displayed: 2 of 2
Dungeon Monthly Quest
Collect 50 pairs of dungeon monster ears to complete this quest. Rating of monster’s ear will determine reward rank.
Quest item not detected.
Name—Rank
N/A — N/A
Reward(s): Choose one
1) 25 ?-rank Monster Cores
2) +xx Free Points
3) 1 ?-rank Add-on for the Training Room
Do you wish to turn in this quest?
Yes | No
“Crash, do I have to cut off ears to make it register?” I look back to the naked goblins, not over my guilt and hoping the subspace can maybe do that for me.
“Yes, Master. You will need to cut off the ears for the Training Room to register them. After you’re finished, we can absorb the corpses and convert their Seas of Qi to monster cores for you.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. Not only am I not going to be burying them, I’ll be cutting off their ears and letting my AI absorb them. . . I could really use the quest rewards though.
