by Tom Hansen
With a growl, the Nagos slithered forward, pushing past Scarhoof to look out over the crowd.
The Nagos hissed, a vile, sickening sound that hurt Scarhoof’s ears.
The pain in his stomach worsened. He felt like doubling over. His fingers tingled. He couldn’t tell if it was the spell of the water seeping in or his disguise beginning to fade. Either way, he needed to get out of here fast.
“What is happening to them?” The Nagos hissed at the king, pointing to the center of the crowd.
Time to go.
“What?” The king replied.
“There, in the center, why is smoke coming from the pool?”
The king stared blankly; then concern grew on his face. “I don’t know. Guardboss!”
“On it Sir!” Guardboss whirled on his heel and lumbered down the slope, yelling for rabid Kobolds to get out of his way, throwing those that didn’t jump fast enough.
Rabid as they were, none of them seemed to care.
Scarhoof had to take this shot. He followed behind, using the newly cleared path to his advantage.
Most eyes turned to follow guardboss; his tirade clearing a path before.
Scarhoof made it to the bottom of the ramp. The exit mere steps away.
One minute remained on the disguise and a Kobold blocked his way. He slammed into him, grunting and keeping his head down, two more were behind that one, but he pushed through again.
His limbs grew, and his strides lengthened with each escaping step.
He decided to use his transformation to his advantage. If the large guardboss could bully his way past the Kobolds, so could he.
Toss one, shoulder past another. Hip check the third, and dodge around the last. Each step getting him closer to his goal.
Ten seconds.
The buff flashed, he felt the effects of the disguise dissipating with each beat of his frantic heart.
“Hey!” The king screamed. “You’re not a Kobold!”
Five seconds.
“Kill the Tau’raj!” The Nagos screamed, his voice an amalgamation of rage and fear.
Scarhoof pushed past the next two. He was nearly twice the size of the Kobolds surrounding him now, which gave him leverage.
Two more steps and he was out.
Two seconds left.
He knew he shouldn’t do it, but it was too good a chance to pass up. With one second left on his buff, Scarhoof turned around and made a well-known rude gesture at the Nagos. Their eyes met, and Scarhoof knew his message had been received.
Buff gone, tunnel to the entrance empty, he was home free.
One lone guard called after him in a half-hearted cry as he broke from the tunnel entrance and stampeded back toward the shoreline, back to home.
Chapter 11
Frazzled, itchy, and sweaty, Scarhoof arrived back at Eldermother’s house. The handful of Kobolds that continued pursuing him from the cave stopped once they got to the edge separating the beach from the rocky higher ground.
He stopped to catch his breath outside Eldermother’s home and was leaned over, panting, when Eldermother burst out of her home and rushed over to him.
“Are you all right?”
He nodded, still out of breath. “Water?”
Her eyes widened, and she called back into her hut. “Nitene, can you bring him some water?”
She encouraged him to sit on the front step, and Nitene returned with a mug of water. He took a long pull, soothing his aching throat. He hadn’t realized just how much talking like a Kobold had hurt his voice.
Nitene folded her arms glaring at her mother before walking a few steps away.
Not for the first time he wondered why it hadn’t been public knowledge that the two were related. Nitene had just shown up to their small village a few months ago without any fanfare. Eldermother had introduced her at the evening’s meal and moved on. It was the most unassuming introduction he could remember. Other than the panic that she somehow slipped past their defenses, there was nothing of note about her or her arrival.
After offering to refill the mug, Nitene returned. He took it, grateful, and drained half before finally launching into his story.
He told both of the cows about his clandestine trip into the lair, the Nagos, the white eyes of all the Kobolds, and their notion of invading the village at midnight while the town was at the bonfire.
Nitene glanced at her mother than back to Scarhoof.
Eldermother paced back and forth in the middle of the path. “Thank you for telling us this. This is highly disturbing news.”
Quest Update! Mysterious Blue Scale:
You have reported your findings to the Eldermother, and she has some thinking to do. (Gained 25 XP!)
Quest Update! Killer Kobolds:
You have reported back to the Eldermother your findings, give her time to decide on a course of action. (Gained 25 XP!)
Eldermother swore, stamped her hoof, then swore again.
He was taken aback. He didn’t think he’d ever heard her use such language before. “Eldermother?”
Two houses down, one of the older bulls in the village poked his head out, glared at them for a moment, then ducked back in.
In the distance, the gentle clinking of dishes signified mealtime. He was famished. Just as he was about to excuse himself, Nitene shuffled to his side, coughing politely to break the silence.
“Did you bring Mother’s Tears back?”
“Oh, yeah.” He pulled out the gourd out of his satchel and held it out to her. “This stuff is strange, I never saw water that oozed like this before.”
Nitene nodded as she took the gourd. She eyed her prize with an intense hunger.
Eldermother grumbled something, then walked off down the road.
“Should we follow her?” Scarhoof tried to stand but Nitene put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.
“No, let her think through things on her own. She’ll be back soon. Besides, we have things to do here. Thank you for this, by the way. I want to test it out immediately.”
Quest Update! A Spreading Sickness:
You returned the strange water from Misty Cave to Nitene. Help her test the effects of the water on the shard. (Gained 100 XP!)
Level Up! You are now Level Four!
+100 Health. +100 Stamina. +100 Mana. +1 Talent Point (Note: Talents will not be unlocked until Level 10). XP Needed for next level: 500.
New Skill! Tendrils (Defensive Skill):
Roots the target in place with magical arms of Spirit Magic. Cost: 10 Mana. Cast Time: 2 Seconds. Duration: 10 Seconds.
A rush of magic and light enveloped him, filling him with an expansive power. His health, mana, and stamina bars maxed out, and a tingle warmed his hands. The rush of power was intoxicating. He felt simultaneously powerful and exhausted. The pangs of hunger reduced as well.
Nitene beamed. “Congratulations, Matuk. Level Four is a big one, your first defensive spell.”
He was growing steadily in power. Already he had quadrupled his health, stamina, mana, and gained two new spells—though he hadn’t tried out one of them yet.
Nitene gave him a curious look. He felt a little embarrassed.
She replied with a warm smile. “I understand, it’s all new and exciting. Your first ten levels are some of the most engrained memories you’ll ever have, especially in the Shaman class.”
He opened his Skillbook and re-read the wording for the Tendrils spell, then put it away. “Let’s take a look at the shard. You needed help?”
She nodded and grabbed the Yantra-protected object from her satchel and put it beside her on the porch step. The shard glowed in the darkness with a dim white aura. If he listened carefully enough, Scarhoof could swear that it was humming. He leaned in closer.
“Oh, don’t get too close. Even though it is protected in the Yantra, I am still getting hit with ill effects.”
Scarhoof noted the magic aura of the shard and stayed just outside of it. “Yeah, I can feel it right there.” He ran his
hand around the object, staying about a handspan from its surface. Static prickled his palm. Sparks of magic ebbed and flowed beneath him. He could feel the lines of the protection Yantra, how they held in the magic that wished to be released. It was like raw lightning bound up with string, yearning to break free from its bonds.
She watched him with amused deference. “You can feel it, can’t you, the Yantra?”
He nodded.
“At your level, I wouldn’t have been able to sense it at all. You don’t learn Yantras for a while, and even then, it will only be basic ones, like speed auras. Protection Yantras like this are a complicated skill that takes a lot of mastery to successfully implement.”
He ran his index finger over one of them, down the shard, to the side, then back up. He knew this magic. It wasn’t just something he was touching, his innate power touched back.
At the edge of the line he was following, he felt a jolt of pain shoot into his finger. He pulled back with a startled yelp.
He frowned as he sucked on the end of his finger. “What was that?” The pain in his fingertips subsided, replaced by a dull numbness.
Nitene chuckled. “That was the end of the Yantra. You have to be careful. They can be sharp. Maybe we should test this water before you hurt yourself again?”
She pointed to Eldermother’s hut “Just inside should be a pan, can you grab it? I don’t want to lose the water again, unless you are willing to go back for more?”
He grinned. “I’ll get the pan.”
He sat back down and she carefully picked up the shard while he positioned the pan underneath. She placed it down, the shard hovering in the air just above the pan.
Lines of light zipped around the shard, which got him thinking. “Can others see those lines?”
She shook her head, concern clear on her face. “Only those attuned to Spirit can see them. Even the fact that you can is an aberration. I worry a little for your highly advanced senses. I wasn’t able to see them until I was around level twenty. While I’ve heard of others that were able to see them at slightly lower levels, I’ve never met one so inexperienced who could.”
She popped the cork off the gourd and sniffed. Seemingly satisfied, she held it out. “Here goes.”
He wanted to ask her why she worried but maybe she changed topics so fast so he wouldn’t.
She upended the viscous liquid, and they both watched with rapt anticipation as it oozed from the jar and onto the Yantra. When the liquid touched the spell, there was a hesitation, then the water began to pool at the top. “That’s fine, they are of the same magic, so there will be a little conflict, but it should pass through in a moment.”
Just as she finished speaking, the Yantra flickered, and the liquid trickled through.
He had expected something to happen, but he wasn’t ready for the reaction that followed. The shard sparked and popped. Lights flashed across its surface, and a thick, white smoke billowed off the shard.
The smoke expanded to pool around their feet, billowing out like a cloud creeping along the ground.
In the corner, his buffs blinked, and Scarhoof glanced to see what had happened.
Effect Status: Purified Spirit Shardsmoke:
+100% to Spirit Abilities. Duration: 1 Hour.
Nitene sniffed, then bent down and stuck her face into the smoke.
She popped up, a curious look on her face. “Well, that is a nice buff. This would have come in handy when you were healing me before. Those other potions are incredibly expensive, so it’s good to have an alternative, but still, something bothers me about this.”
She sniffed the rim of the gourd. “This is still Mother’s Tears, but why—” She trailed off, looking back at Eldermother’s hut.
“Can you fetch some well-water for me? I need to test this again.”
He grabbed a bowl from Eldermother’s home along with water from the wash basin.
When he returned, she had cleared off the rest of the viscous water and dissipated the smoke.
She directed him to gently pour it on.
Like-before, the water pooled atop the Yantra before seeping through. White smoke poured off the shard.
Beside him, Nitene squeaked, a stricken look on her face.
He stood, concerned at her reaction. “Nitene are you okay?”
She looked up at him, terror in her eyes. Tears poured down her cheeks and she held out the water to him. He placed the water bowl on the ground and leapt around the shard to be by her side. Her eyes glowed slightly, and her expression alternated between rage and terror.
Clarity clicked in his mind. He had seen similar expressions in the Kobolds. The boar, the Kobold’s violent and unusual behavior, they were all linked. It was the shard water, or smoke in this instance. It was poisonous!
He grabbed her around her waist and looped one of her arms around his, dragging her away from the smoke. In his arms she twitched and groaned. He took her to someone else’s hut, sat her in a chair, and gazed into her eyes. She was responsive but confused.
“Breathe, Nitene. You have been poisoned. Breathe and get clean air into your lungs.”
She looked up at him with a confused expression but nodded. She took a deep breath, then another one. It seemed to calm her down.
“Are you going to be okay?”
She nodded, her movements exaggerated, like she was drunk.
“I’m going to get that water off the shard. Stay here.”
He ran to the shard, and grabbed it, turning it and shaking the water off. It splashed on the ground with a hiss, but was quickly soaked in. He upturned the bowl to ensure no other water came in contact with the shard.
A slight breeze from the east dissipated the rest of the smoke while he used a towel from Eldermother’s laundry to dry the shard.
Satisfied, he placed it back down and turned to go find Nitene but stopped short when he realized she was standing already, a couple meters from him. Her eyes no-longer glowed, but she looked like she was going to be ill. She wavered slightly, but managed to stay upright.
“Nitene?”
She held her hand up. “I’m fine, just a little nauseous.” She glared at the shard, then at him, her face softening. “Thank you for thinking so quickly.” She raised her hands and cast Mending Force on herself.
Scarhoof inspected her, realizing she had lost about one half of her health from that smoke!
She took a step forward, getting close to him in a way she’d never done before. She placed a hand on his arm, leaned in, and kissed his cheek.
She’d just kissed him! His heart leapt in his chest. He couldn’t find words to describe it, but it had just happened!
He stood there for a moment, not sure what to do.
She took a step back, her normal studious expression back on her face, and eyed him, any hint of awkwardness between them gone.
“I think it’s time we got you trained up in the ways of the Shaman.”
Scarhoof followed her to her hut. They walked around to the back of her hut and faced the ocean. The moon cast rays across the black waters of the Western Sea. It was an oddly calm night for following such a chaotic day, and he found himself lost in thought and transfixed by the beauty and majesty of the ocean.
A cool breeze wafted off the waters, blowing the misty, salt air and catching their skirts. It sent a chill up his arms.
The day’s activities were beginning to catch up with him, and he worked his hands to relieve the ache.
He sensed her sidle up to him and tried not to smile.
Nitene was everything he would want in a mate, but even though he felt a comfortable attraction to her, a shrouded memory wriggled in the back of his mind warning him to keep his distance. His subconscious thwarted his desire for companionship.
Suddenly, her immediate presence felt somehow wrong. He took a step back, putting her delicate form in his field of view.
The tumultuous feelings inside of him roiled and churned, but he clenched his stomach to distract from the fee
lings. He was here to train, not romance this heifer. He needed to stay focused. The threat of the Kobolds and the Nagos was imminent.
“I find it interesting that you were drawn to the sea when you are supposed to train.”
“Why do you say that?”
If his step away bothered her, she didn’t show it. She fixed her gaze out on the vast ocean. “The life of a Shaman is like that of the ocean. Small amounts of water can seem relatively harmless, even fun if you’re a Tau’ri splashing around in the summer sun.”
She turned to indicate the cove behind them. In the distance he could just make out the massive walls curving upward, protecting their small spot of land from the onslaught of evil.
At least it had seemed that way until today.
“But water carved out this entire cove. It didn’t happen overnight, but slowly. Shaman are very similar. On the surface, it may seem we play a tiny role in this life, but our actions have a distinct impact on the world around us.”
She motioned to a couple of stools in the center of the yard. He took one and she took the other.
“Shaman and Druids are primarily healers. We are the backbone of the questing party. A party is comprised of tanks, damage dealers, and healers. Our role is arguably the most important. No other role is so unique and so misunderstood, yet no other role is so vitally important.
“As you progress down this path, you are going to come across obstacles in life. Choices that will want to send you down a path of independence, self-sacrifice, and servitude.
“Those choices may come as a quest, or as a direct question. Sometimes they will be obvious, other times they will be subtle, almost imperceptible.”
The moonlight bounced off her face, giving her eyes a distant, misty quality. He could get lost in those eyes.
She broke her gaze from the ocean and gave him a stern look. “I hope you are prepared to make the hard choices in life. You might need to let someone die to save another. You might even need to sacrifice yourself for the greater good. The only advice I can give you in that regard is to find balance in all things.”
