Halcyon Rising_Bastion of Hope
Page 15
That’s what I needed to focus on first. When I opened my menu, I was blown away by how many XP I had really absorbed from Kāya. It was enough to boost my Resolve, open my newest spear skill, master my oldest one, and save a nice bank of points for later.
Δ
Skillmeister View of:
Arden Hochbright
Base Attribute / XP to Next / Intended Change / Total XP Cost
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11 Constitution / 275 XP to Next / 11 –> 12 / Total XP Cost: 275
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12 Vivacity / 300 XP to Next / none / Total XP Cost: 0
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16 Strength + 6 Bonus / 400 XP to Next / 16 –> 20 / Total XP Cost: 1,750
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11 Hardiness + 4 Bonus / 275 XP to Next / none / Total XP Cost: 0
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12 Focus / 300 XP to Next / none / Total XP Cost: 0
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14 Resolve + 3 Bonus / 350 XP to Next / 14 –> 20 / Total XP Cost: 2,475
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TOTAL BASE ATTRIBUTE XP COST: 4,500
Stats Affected by Change
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[Constitution] Health Points (HP): 958/1100 –> 1058/1200
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[Vivacity] Action Points (AP): 120/180
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[Strength] Phys. Damage Inflict Range: 220-268 –> 260-317
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[Hardiness] Phys. Damage Block Range: 81-114
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[Focus] Mag. Damage Inflict Range: 120-146
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[Resolve] Mag. Damage Block Range: 92-129 –> 124-175
Skills For Weapon Class: Polearm
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Piercing Blow 4. Damage multiplier of 2.6. [30 AP to cast] [Requires: Strength 11].
Improve to Piercing Blow 5 to master Piercing Blow. Damage multiplier increases to 5.0. [35 AP to cast] [Requires: Strength 20] [625 XP to improve].
Intended Change: 4 –> 5
Cost Subtotal: 625
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Spear Cannon 2. When HP is at or below 10%, shoot a beam of light from your spear to damage enemy attackers, with a Strength multiplier of 3.4. [24 AP to cast] [Requires: Strength 10, Hardiness 10].
Improve to Spear Cannon 3 to increase HP threshold to 15% and Strength multiplier to 3.8. [26 AP to cast] [Requires: Strength 12, Hardiness 12] [250 XP to improve].
Intended Change: None
Cost Subtotal: 0
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Locked. Call to Arms 1. Call your spear to your open arms from distances up to 10 feet away. [20 AP to cast] [Requires: Constitution 12, Focus 6] [125 XP to unlock].
Improve to Call to Arms 2 to increase range to 15 feet. [20 AP to cast] [Requires: Constitution 14, Focus 7] [250 XP to improve].
Intended Change: 0 –> 1
Cost Subtotal: 125
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TOTAL POLEARM SKILL XP COST: 750
Skills For Special Class: Skillmeister [expand]
Summary
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Available XP: 11,344
Cost of Intended Changes: 5,250
Precision Training Discount (5%): 263
Total Adjusted Cost: 4,987
Total Projected Remaining: 6,357
Confirm?: Yes / No
∇
The effects of the cretin’s magic released their hold on me the moment I confirmed the changes. Then I activated Call to Arms. Razortooth made no appearance, which meant my weapon was still too far away. I considered boosting Call to Arms, but decided it was too much of a longshot. If my weapon weren’t within range, it would be a waste of XP to improve that skill now.
“Mamba!” I yelled. “Cindra!” I heard nothing in response.
I pushed myself to the edge of the wooden cart that held me, pressing my back against the metal bars. My head rested between two cold iron rods and I closed my eyes. The cretin continued to snarl and bash against his small jail as I tried to let myself sleep. The morning would bring new challenges, and I’d need whatever rest I could get.
The sound of something rustling nearby jolted me from the twitchy half-sleep I had fallen into. I lurched forward and saw something lurking in the shadows. It started moving toward me. I thought it was the darkwind again, when a long red tongue slithered out of a serpentine mouth.
A woman with rich red skin and dark hair crept toward my prison cell with her finger pressed against her lips. She petted the snake on the head, then let the creature burrow into the grass and disappear.
Mamba stood and reached for the lock to my cell, keys in her hand. She wasn’t dancing now, not even gently rocking her hips from side to side. She was serious.
She pulled open the cart’s door slowly and quietly. She climbed inside with me, then crouched behind me and slipped a key into the cuffs that held my hands together. Her hair fell over my shoulder while she worked.
When the shackles released, my arms were stiff.
“I’m so sorry,” Mamba whispered gently. “I never meant to come back here, I—”
“I never believed him,” I said.
“I couldn’t speak up before,” she said. “I had to let them take you or they would have known I gave up working for their acceptance many storms ago. They’re asleep now though.”
I climbed out of the prison cell, down the wooden steps, and around the back of the wheeled cart that supported the prison’s bars.
Mamba reached down and ran her fingers through the grass. Three snakes emerged, all traveling in different directions. After a full minute, she followed the trail one had taken.
A small fire lay that way, with two gypsy men in the grass sleeping off last night’s drink. Both had overturned ceramic bottles next to them, likely some kind of moonshine or hooch. Cindra knelt at their feet, tying their shoelaces together. A locked jail cell sat a few yards away.
Surrounding the fire were other carts, some filled with supplies and covered with tarps. Others were sided with wooden planks and windows that were drawn closed. I had to assume more gypsies slept inside.
The sound of a snarling howl pierced the night. The cretin may not have the power to curse me, but it could still make my life hell.
The two drunken gypsies by the fire roused and tried to get to their feet, but they fell quickly thanks to the work Cindra had done on their shoes. As they yelled, matches lit candles inside the nearby sleeper carts, sending a faint flickering light through their shuttered windows.
Wooden doors burst open and armed gypsies poured out. There was no use sneaking around anymore.
I raised my hand in the air and used Call to Arms. This time, Razortooth lifted from the grass by the fire and flew toward my open palm. Cindra rushed toward her bow and quiver, leaning against a tree trunk near the fire.
“Mamba,” I asked, “what’s our escape route?” Cindra was already sliding her quiver strap across her chest and drawing an arrow.
“Deeper into the forest,” she said.
Of course. Was it too much to hope for that maybe there was a beanstalk into the clouds, or a summoner nearby that could birdcall a giant beast that might whisk us away to safety?
“Cindra,” I said, “have you tried Heartstringer yet?”
“I’m trying it now,” she said.
“Perfect,” I replied. With a 4% chance of turning these gypsies against themselves, it would only take so many arrows before she had a lucky one.
“Arden,” Mamba said, raising her fists before her and preparing to fend off the two drunken men that had finally pulled off their boots.
“I know, Mamba,” I said. “You’re not a melee fighter. Just stick to your snakes.”
“That’s not it,” she said. Her leg flew high in the air, kicking one man under the chin with the side of her foot. She used her momentum to spin herself around, whipping her other leg out and kicking a second man in a matter of seconds.
“I was going to say,” she paused to reach for the first man’s head as he tried to get to his feet, grabbed him by the hair and slammed his face against her bare knee. “Just please don’t kill them. That�
��s all.”
“Oh,” I said. “Right.” I swung the pole-end of Razortooth at the head of an oncoming gypsy. My weapon vibrated all the way up the handle from the impact. The man seemed to keep vibrating as he collapsed against the floor.
Men came at us from every direction now. It was all men. Either gypsies didn’t think much of their women’s fighting abilities, or the women had opted to steer clear of Gorinor. Judging from how well Mamba handled her attackers, I guessed it was the latter.
Cindra’s arrows sailed through the air, sticking in arms and chests and necks. I slapped the flat end of Razortooth’s bent blade into one man’s stomach. With the wind knocked out of him, he fell down gasping.
The sound of tiny cymbals chimed behind me as a rocky spike erupted from the ground by my feet. I jumped back and looked over my shoulder. Gorinor stood there, still dressed in the same gaudy flowing shirt and pants he wore earlier. He held a tambourine by his hip.
“Stand aside, Gorinor,” I said.
“You’ll ruin her,” he said. “She’s a simple girl, but betrayal results in exile. She’ll have no people, never see her family again. She’ll cease to be a gypsy.”
“You can’t take that from her,” I said. “No one can. She’s a good honest person and a gypsy. From what I’ve seen she’s the only one here that can say that.”
Gorinor clapped a hand against his tambourine and another spike of rock erupted from the ground under my feet. I hit the ground hard.
“In a world where the rules are stacked against you,” he said, “breaking them is the only honest trade.”
“You’re breaking the wrong rules,” I said, staring up at him. He raised his musical weapon and I had to act fast. When I activated Piercing Blow, my spear shone with a white light that lit up the forest. My arms thrust the weapon forward at lightning speed, sinking its serrated edge into Gorinor’s shoulder and slicing through his skin. A throaty roar erupted from him. I was shocked at how effective the skill was now that I had “mastered” it. I was glad I had only intended to graze him.
Gorinor, however, was anything but glad. He lifted his tambourine with his good arm. I jumped to my feet and thrust toward his weapon, hoping to tear the animal hide that stretched across the tambourine’s frame. He whipped it out of reach, holding it overhead. He started shaking it, crashing the small chimes together. The ground rumbled as he played the instrument faster.
“You’ve been to your share of skillmeisters,” I said. “How many of them did you pay and how many did you simply kidnap?”
A rocky spike erupted from the ground as I thrust with Razortooth again. My spear crashed into the freshly formed stone, smashing it to bits. The spearhead bent further though.
“You’re awfully self-righteous for a scofflaw,” he said. “If you had only been willing we could have negotiated a mutually beneficial arrangement. Knowing you three can fight changes a few things.”
I whipped my spear’s handle toward his ribs, but he grabbed the weapon and changed its course. “I assume now you wished you hadn’t messed with us,” I said.
“Now,” he said, raising two stone spikes at once that sandwiched me between them. “I wish we had hired you to find our women.”
I squeezed through the rocks as he charged at me, shoulder first. I stabbed forward with Razortooth, catching his belt with the bent blade. I tore through it and ripped a gash in his pants that exposed his bare ass and sent him off-kilter.
“What does that mean?” I asked. He pulled his pants back up, but they wouldn’t stay. He continued running at me anyway. “Where are the women?”
I was about to swing my spear again when an arrow landed in his neck. His eyes glowed green, then he let go of his pants and walked toward one of the other gypsy men. His pants slowly fell to his ankles as he walked.
“Great job, Cindra!” I yelled.
Mamba’s sandals were covered with blood, but it wasn’t hers. She was a wild fighter, kicking enemies as quickly as they approached her. She dodged oncoming attacks with ease, contorting her body in poses that would bend ordinary people in two. Her limber muscles, toned from a lifetime of belly dancing, had made her a lightning-fast fighting machine. Heaps of moaning, injured gypsies lay on the ground between Mamba and Cindra.
With the only remaining foe facing off against an enchanted Gorinor, now was our chance to make a run for it. I nodded at Cindra and Mamba, then we ran south, deeper into the trees and one step closer to arriving in Landondowns.
When I was sure we had put enough distance between us and the gypsy camp, I slowed down.
“Cindra,” I said, pausing to catch my breath. “Did they hurt you? Did they touch you at all?”
“No,” she said. “Though they did ask if these were real.” She cupped her breasts from beneath. “How does a slime gal answer that question? Well, what I said was, ‘see for yourself.’ One man reached toward me but the second stopped him. He realized I was trying to Flirt my way out of this situation, and he pulled the bag back over my head.
“I waited a long time until I suspected they were asleep, then I squeezed my hands right out of those silly cuffs and slipped through the prison bars. Whose idea was it to handcuff someone made of slime?”
“You never miss a beat,” I said. “I’m glad we got out of there when we did. They have a cretin captive, and I’m not really sure what they plan to do with it. Meanwhile, Mamba, I had no idea your people were so lawless.”
“They have law,” she replied, “it’s just different from everyone else’s. Gorinor and his men were never well-liked, but they did always return from their ‘hunting’ trips with cash in hand. My mommas needed the money to feed and clothe us kids, so no one ever talked about where it all came from.
“I had my suspicions though,” she said. “When they told me to come back with a head priest or never, I knew. I’d never see my mommas again.”
“You had two mothers?” I asked. I strained to bend Razortooth’s blade back into place as we walked, leaving a crease along the metal.
“Three,” Mamba said. “We all did. Gypsy parents don’t raise their own kids, unless they’re one of the few mommas in the group. They’re the women best suited to raising the children. Everyone else goes back to hunting, dancing, or reading fortunes. Whatever else they do for work and pleasure.”
“Did you know which gypsy gave birth to you?” I asked.
“No one tells the children who their life-mother is,” she said, “but there was one woman the winds kept blowing me toward. Sorry, I should stop talking about winds. It’s what got me sent away from home in the first place.”
“I don’t mind it,” Cindra said, “but why are you always on about the wind?”
“I think it’s an elf thing,” she said. “Elves are attuned to the elements. The wind is the only one that ever made sense to me though. I’m just a half-breed, so I don’t have the same senses as a pure elf. Gorinor and the rest said it made me a flighty bird, like the loon and the lark. Hence the cruel nickname.”
“Gorinor is a jerk,” I said, “and so are the rest of them. You talk about the wind all you want. I just don’t want to hear this ‘half-breed’ word anymore, or talk of pure elves. You’re pure Mamba, and that’s all anyone needs to know.”
“Thanks, Arden,” she said. “I’m worried by what Gorinor said about the gypsy women. If the mommas are missing…”
“Then we’ll find them when this is through,” I said. “That’s all there is to it.”
I patted my pockets for a moment, and I was glad to see that all my things were still there. I pulled out the map, careful not to uncork the potion I had gotten from Rinka’s shop in Meadowdale. I also still had that weird signet in my pocket from Cahn’s office, and a few very tiny energems.
“We’re heading due south,” I said, comparing the map to the compass Lexa had given me. “It looks like forest all around.” As I watched it, something odd happened. Our direction turned east all of a sudden, and our position on the map changed.
We were in a new spot now, one with uncharted map all around it.
I rubbed my eyes. The sun was just starting to rise, which meant my low quality sleep the night before was all I’d get. My tired mind must be playing tricks on me. Unless…
“I think the map Lexa gave me is broken,” I said. “Or it just needs to recalculate our position.” I waited. “No, it’s no good. Our location keeps jumping around and our direction changes randomly.”
“I did have a strange feeling,” Cindra said, “like the sun had moved.”
“Not the sun,” Mamba said, “the trees. We must have wandered into the Wall-o’-Woods.”
“How do we get through it?” Cindra asked.
“We’d have to ask someone that made it through,” Mamba said.
“Like who?” I asked.
“Like no one,” she said. “The Wall-o’-Woods is where we send banished gypsies. From here, no one’s ever seen again.”
+23
An impenetrable wall of woods, I thought. How come I can pronounce impenetrable, and not impregnaral… impreganal… impregatarian… Screw it.
We continued to reorient ourselves south as the morning sun rose higher in the sky. Mamba’s description of this place as a “wall” was spot-on. No matter how many times we reappeared somewhere new, or how many times our direction changed, we stayed within the same band of trees on the map.
“If no one ever leaves,” I said, “and there’s nothing to eat lying around here, shouldn’t there be dead bodies? Or at least skeletons?”
“Maybe the forest absorbs them,” Mamba said. “This place is gusty with strange magic.”
“Can we take a break?” I asked. “We’ve been trying the same thing over and over again and getting nowhere. Not to mention, we haven’t eaten since we left Halcyon. I didn’t want to take provisions when there were so few left to begin with, then the gypsies didn’t feed us, and now I’ve missed breakfast entirely. I just need a minute.”