by Tom Hansen
Hillbender smiled. “Do not let it get to you, Scarhoof. Let others think how they want. You have something special that only you can do. Worrying about what others think of your physical condition will merely hinder you from achieving your best self. Your spirit, your soul, and your connection to Eloria are the only thing that matters. Do not let that deter you from your greater calling.”
Scarhoof nodded, half listening. His mind still swirled with concern for the upcoming fight.
“Guru, how am I supposed to handle healing a five-person team when I couldn’t even keep three alive without your help?”
Hillbender put his large hands on Scarhoof shoulders and locked horns with him. Normally this would’ve been an aggressive gesture, but because of the nature of master and student, it was not.
He put Scarhoof in his place, holding dominance over his subordinate. As they stood there, horns locked, he radiated his caring, respect, and authority.
“My student, you have within you more power than you will know, but you are right, you cannot do it alone. You have four other members of your team traveling with you, and they all bring to the fight their own abilities, tactics, and ideas. Only by working together, and covering each other’s weaknesses with your strengths, will you survive.”
Hillbender looked off into the distance, his eyes seemingly focused on something otherworldly. A small grin appeared on his face.
“But a lot of mana potions wouldn’t hurt.”
Chapter 29
It was the first and last time that Scarhoof would voluntarily pass through a portal to travel quickly to another location.
The swirling flashing lights mixed with a cacophony of sounds that reminded Scarhoof of the time he had chewed Pucca root with some of his army buddies as a sort of initiation rite. It was awful and made him sick to his stomach for days after the hallucinations ended.
Scarhoof was right back there after going through the portal, which snapped shut with a lightning crack. He leaned over, holding onto a tree for balance.
Jaxyl spat on the ground. “We ready?”
Firemane and Xanovi both leaned against their own trees. “Please, we need a moment,” Firemane managed to get out in labored breaths.
The Dwarf, Hanrahan Onyxjaw, adjusted the belt around her velvet robes. “I don’t see what all the fuss is about. It kind of tickles, if you ask me. Like getting a sponge bath from the laddies on Smitespire.”
Jaxyl rolled his eyes. “Mages.”
The portal brought them near where Scarhoof had first met Firemane and Jaxyl.
After a couple of minutes, everyone was back to their old selves. Scarhoof checked the stock of small mana vials in his pack to make sure they survived the journey. Six in all, plus one Hillbender called a restorative drought, supposed to regenerate everything at elevated rates for ten seconds.
He hoped they would be enough.
Everyone else had been given three healing potions each, which they had placed on their belts for easy access. Scarhoof pondered about handing his to their tank but decided to hold onto them. In a pinch it might save him from spending mana to heal himself.
They had formed the party before stepping through the portal cast by Hanrahan.
Scarhoof had met a few Dwarves before, but it had been far too long since he had spent much time with them, and this was the first female Dwarf to ever speak to him. She was an interesting specimen, at that. She had an air about her that spoke of affluent living and unfamiliarity with the most banal tasks. It had taken her three tries to get the portal open, apologizing the entire time, while simultaneously assuring them that she wasn’t this bad in combat.
The final oddity had been an argument with her handmaiden insisting that she tag along for the trip, one the handmaiden had lost.
“You ready for this?” Xanovi sidled up to Scarhoof, clamping him on the shoulder while eyeing the Dwarf with a disdainful glare. “I want to take out those Nagos bastards, after what they have done to our race.”
Scarhoof nodded. After the cold look Xanovi had given him earlier, he wondered how their first conversation would go. He was glad that Xanovi didn’t seem to harbor resentment.
“Her name is Eithne?” He pointed at the sleek black cat that curled around Xanovi’s legs, licking its paw.
Xanovi nodded, his face impassive. “Camped her for three days, had to fight off four others that wanted her too, but she’s a prize. She can sprint faster than any other pet at this level, getting in and out of the fray. She doesn’t tank for shit, but she’d rip anyone’s face off in this party if I gave the command.” He mimicked a cat scratching with an accompanying rawr.
“The faces to rip off aren’t those in our party, Beastmaster; they’re of the Nagos.” Firemane loomed behind them. “Are we ready?”
They all turned to face their tank, who had his shield and a large axe at the ready. His skin crawled with magic, giving off a distinctive rippling effect that reminded Scarhoof of the ghosts in the Horned Crag from a couple days ago.
Firemane watched Jaxyl apply a liquid from a vial to his blades for a moment before eying Scarhoof.
Shouts and the clanging of steel against steel could be heard in the distance. Something chugged, droning on and a plume of dark smoke rose from the rise ahead of them.
“I’m ready.” Scarhoof gripped his staff, eyeing his tank. “Lead the way.”
There were no patrols leading up the rise toward the quarry, which had everyone on edge.
“Did they abandon it?” Hanrahan asked.
Xanovi sighed, a sense of irritation in his voice. “Of course they didn’t, we wouldn’t have a quest otherwise.”
“Focus up,” Firemane snapped, “Our portal may have gotten us back here before their scouts could have reported back, so we need to take advantage of that surprise. Fast and smooth. No stopping till we’ve secured the place.”
Coming over the rise, Scarhoof saw why the Nagos were trying so hard to defend this place. The whole valley was covered in machinery.
The Nagos had clearly been here a while setting up a permanent camp. Five separate dig sites were evident with a glance, two of which were already empty. The other three had in their center massive shards, partially exposed. Two of them were white, while the other was yellow. The rest of the camp consisted of large wooden pulleys, huts for workers, and a larger, opulent structure in the center, close to the largest of the three shards.
“Yellow shards?” Jaxyl asked.
Scarhoof shrugged. “Not sure, I’ve only ever seen white ones before.”
Xanovi sighed again. “Air shards, folks. Can we get on with it?”
Firemane nodded. “I agree. We cannot dawdle long. If their troops get back before we secure the area, then we’ll be fighting from the front and the back. Skysong promised to send more troops once she rounded them up from Whistling Pass, but that means we’re on our own for now.”
The sounds of hammering and a handful of scattered shouts drew them to the right, toward the first and smallest shard.
Rounding the corner of the small hut, they got their first good look at it. The white shard still towered over them by at least half height of a Tau’raj. It had to be at least five meters tall.
Jaxyl let out a low whistle. “What are they digging that up for? I can feel the magic off it from here.”
Scarhoof could too. The sight of it combined with the sheer amount of energy contained inside soured his stomach but also set his skin tingling from the massive energy that poured off the shard.
Something from his conversation with Haliin Earthwhisper a few days back stuck in his mind.
“Are we on a ley line?”
Hanrahan replied. “If not on it, we’re gonna be pretty close, why do you ask?”
Scarhoof was going to reply but was startled by a shout. A level nine Nagos Worker slithered around the corner holding a pickaxe in his gloved hands. He was dressed from head to tail in a leather jumpsuit.
He immediately shouted something in a
nother language and rushed at Xanovi.
“Engage!” Firemane pushed past Jaxyl and Hanrahan to get to the front. Xanovi quickly sidestepped the attacker allowing Firemane to bash the Nagos in the face with his shield with a sickening crunch.
The three of them engaged the enemy with calculated precision.
“Don’t blow all your cool downs yet. We’re only getting started on this trash.” Xanovi shouted as he backed up to get more room for his bow to be effective. With a whistle, his cat sprung at the surrounded Nagos so fast that its black fur streaked across the face of the white shard making it look grey.
Four more Nagos Workers rounded the corner, sour looks on their faces, wielding various types of weapons ranging from large axes, to smaller daggers. One pulled a bow from its back and stopped as soon as it was visible to engage.
“Ranged!” Firemane snapped.
“On it!” Xanovi replied, seamlessly swapping targets to the Nagos with the bow. Xanovi’s cat blurred again, her streak appearing nearly instantaneously behind the Nagos archer, who whirled around in surprise.
Hanrahan shot a series of molten rocks streaking through the air, exploding on the enemy’s skin. The heat from the spell singed the air as it passed, leaving behind a strong sulfur smell that burned Scarhoof’s nostrils.
Scarhoof took a step back away from the mage and realized he’d been so engrossed in what was happening around him, that he hadn’t been focusing on health.
Five Nagos all together, one of them were already dead on the ground, and the ranged one was halfway there.
He wound up and released two Mending Forces back to back, topping off Firemane’s health.
“Thanks.”
“Sorry.”
Xanovi shot a look at Scarhoof then the tank before going back and unleashing a bright red projectile at his target, finishing off the ranged Nagos. “Watch our health better than you did last time.”
Anger flashed through Scarhoof’s mind. Did he just make a slight about the incident in Misty Cave? Anger morphed to grief as he remembered Kardkaw Thunderdraft going down, Scarhoof powerless to help.
He had failed his friend, failed Xanovi, failed his tribe. As much as Xanovi’s words cut him, he spoke the truth. Scarhoof had failed to do what he was trained to do, to heal, and he was still getting distracted and shirking his responsibilities.
The grief continued to wash over him as he watched Firemane’s health bob up and down, hitting him with the occasional Mending Force.
“You can help with dps on this trash.” Xanovi quipped.
“Do you want me to heal or dps?” Scarhoof snapped at the Beastmaster, instantly regretting his tone. The words tumbled out of Scarhoof before he could think, and they were not kind either. They were coated in all the pent-up rage, anger, and loss from that incident.
“Keep it together!” Firemane yelled. “Focus on Jaxyl’s target!”
The two looked at each other, both frowning.
They finished off the trash, earning a healthy chunk of experience. Jaxyl leveled up from nine to ten.
“Grats.” Xanovi said offhandedly while he petted his cat.
Firemane approached Scarhoof and Xanovi. “Do we have a problem here I need to know about?”
The two exchanged a look. Scarhoof budged first.
“I failed healing a party while I was still in Sunset Cove, a good friend of mine died and Xanovi and I barely survived. Kardkaw died trying to save us from Grath’gar.”
Firemane placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, it’s always hard losing someone close to you.” He glanced over at Jaxyl, who was pulling weapons off one of the fallen Nagos.
Xanovi sighed. “Actually, I’m being a dick. I was just pissed seeing that you were in my party, again. You’ve have proven yourself to be a capable healer. We were so outclassed and out leveled in that cave anyway, I honestly don’t know how they expected us to handle the leader of the Nagos army at that level.”
He stuck his hand out. “Truce?”
Scarhoof grimaced but took his hand. “I truly am sorry about that too. That incident weighs heavily on my mind. I failed too many that day.”
Xanovi shrugged. “Well, you’re a competent healer, so no hard feelings.”
“Good. Let’s rest and get moving.” Firemane turned to join the others. Xanovi followed.
Scarhoof stood back, guilt, anger, and confusion swirling around in his head. Everyone had but one life to live, and he had let too many people die on his path already.
He would not let that happen again.
They were attacked three more times before arriving at the yellow shard. Each group of workers a little harder than the last, but all still manageable.
His group became fairly adept at coordinating the damage. Firemane would work through the enemies bashing each one of them with his shield and smacking them with his axe to grab their attention.
Jaxyl’s target was always the one taken down first, unless there was a ranged enemy, then the two ranged dps would take them down before focusing on the melee ones. Though more than once Xanovi had to get after Hanrahan to switch targets.
They all did what they could to keep them off Scarhoof, but he found it easy enough to toss out the occasional Spirit Shock to help burn down enemies, especially once the first couple had been vanquished. His mana requirements were generally easy enough to allow him to assist with damage rather than healing.
Before entering the room, he sensed the magic coming off the huge yellow shard. The Air magic contained therein threatened to overwhelm his senses. The feeling reminded him of the typhoon that had hit Sunset Cove almost a decade ago. Gale-force winds battered the shore, tearing apart their huts while the Tau’ri huddled, shaking in the guard’s secure cave.
Take away the wind and the rain, and that is what he felt as he stared at the yellow shard.
Of course, the shard was protected by a contingent of soldiers and guards.
He was struck with four arrows, each taking off 20% of his health.
Warning! Health critical!
“Protect Scarhoof and let’s start rounding them up!” Firemane leapt in front of their healer and held up his shield. On impulse, Scarhoof grabbed the Minor Healing Potion from his belt and quaffed it in one swig. The bitter liquid burned down his throat, but he instantly shot up to 80% health. He followed up with a self-targeting Mending Force.
“Sorry, I didn’t see them.” Scarhoof replied. He felt bad for not peeking around the corner. He’d been so caught up in the pull of the shard he had ignored the contingent of Nagos soldiers ready to defend it.
“Not a problem,” Firemane replied. “I should have been the first in the room. Jaxyl, try dragging them over here.”
The two ranged targeted the right-most Nagos but he just ducked around the side of the shard.
Hanrahan had taken a single shot which plummeted her health to 50%, and Scarhoof quickly hit her with a Mending Force.
“These guys hurt a lot more than the last ones. We need to take them out!” Xanovi yelled, sending in Eithne.
“Scarhoof, you stay back, and we’ll have to tank these on each side of the shard. Jaxyl, you and the pet work the other one, Hanrahan, you’re with me.”
Firemane charged in, followed by the rest of the crew, close on his heels.
The crew split to opposite sides of the shard with Scarhoof behind them alternatively healing Firemane, Jaxyl, and the black ghostly cat to keep all three alive.
They had taken out one more Nagos when he ran out of mana. “I hate to do this but I gotta take a potion.”
Very different than the health potion’s bitter taste, mana potions were sweet, almost syrupy, and they were slightly more viscous, like warm honey. In fact, he would almost think it was warmed honey if the color wasn’t an iridescent blue.
Once his mana was restored, he continued healing.
The experience from each kill crept him closer to his next level. He knew he would receive a new ability this next level and
the anticipation of what that could be drove him to Spirit Shock the occasional guard in hopes of hurrying up the journey.
They took a break after this fight to recover, and Scarhoof took the opportunity to investigate the shard closer. He found he could handle being near it, but it put pressure on his chest and made breathing a bit more labored.
The massive yellow shard had already been fully dug out and was suspended above the ground presumably in its original position by a series of boards that kept it upright. Six meters tall, half of it protruded out of the pit that had been dug around it to expose its many surfaces.
The magic didn’t sit well with him. The previous white shard felt comfortable, almost welcome, but this one churned his stomach in a way he hadn’t imagined.
The rest of the party was equally discomforted. Firemane and Xanovi shied away from it, choosing to recover their health and stamina back at the entrance to the room. Hanrahan seemed indifferent, but Jaxyl seemed to be okay. The Goblin walked up to the shard and stuck his hand out, holding it just outside of the shard.
“Can I touch it?”
Scarhoof replied. “I wouldn’t recommend it. Last time I saw someone touch these, even though their affinities were attuned with the shard’s magic, it burned her and shot pain up her arm.”
“But you can touch them?”
Scarhoof frowned. “I can touch the white ones, but I haven’t encountered a yellow shard before, nor one so large.”
From the back, Xanovi chuckled. “Well go ahead and test it for us. Aren’t you supposed to be the shard researcher?”
Xanovi wasn’t wrong.
He was here specifically so he could research these things, and now he stood in front of one.
Before his logical mind could talk him out of it, he reached out and touched the shard. A cold and violent arc screamed through his arm and chest, causing him to yelp in surprise and jump back.
Effect Status: Air Shardtouch:
+10% to Air Abilities. +5% to Earth and Water Abilities. -5% to Fire and Spirit Abilities. Duration: 10 Minutes.
