“The cable beasts do not live in this plane. They travel here via portal from the Estuary, their world. It is a dark, terrible place, filled with horrors. The Estuary is one of the few planes never graced with the light from one of the twelve light gods. As a result, all beasts native to that place must travel to our plane to hunt and consume the numinous. It is how they live.”
“What does that have to do with that crazy troll lady over there?” Popper asked.
Kant ignored Popper’s question.
“I was unfortunate enough to be waylaid by a hunting party of these cable beasts. They captured sylphs and wisps and asrai, all to consume. It is their custom to slaughter any non-fairy they come across, and I thought for certain I was done for. But cable beasts also crave something else, I was soon to learn: intellectual stimulation.”
“Wait, so they kidnapped you because you’re smart?” I asked.
He nodded. “As a pollywog, I am immune to the insanity often imparted on others by the cable beasts. As I pleaded for my life, telling them of my love for my family and books, they saw value in my conversational skills, and they spared my life. They swept me from my home. My legs were removed, so I could not flee. My hands were bound behind my back. I was chained to a marble-like pedestal in the grand palace of a major corporation. There, on my dais, travelers would come to speak with me about philosophy and other worldly topics. It wouldn’t have been an unpleasant experience if the children didn’t constantly throw stones at me, or if I was ever allowed to eat. They waited until I passed out from starvation, and they had a sylph slave heal me, and the cycle would start again.”
“Holy crap,” I said.
“The corporation eventually became bored with me, and I was exchanged with another company, traded as an oddity, a pet that could entertain one’s guests for hours. I regaled the cable beasts and other creatures from that horrific plane with tales of this world.”
“That is fucked up,” Popper said.
Kant nodded sagely. “I was traded many times over the years. It was during one of those exchanges that I came to be here, back in my own world. As we ascended the steps of the node, travelers returned through the portal. These were scouts from the Ugile Corporation. A great conflict was brewing between Ugile and Hy, the company with which I was currently in the possession of. As a result, these scouts were captured and tortured for any information they might have. It turned out they, indeed, had information of the utmost interest to the Hy clan: the scouts had detected a sickly troll queen mother. Approaching her would be easy. The Ugile scouts had been hastening back to secure reinforcements. Knowing that time was short, my party of Hy rushed here, bringing me along. They did not come in great enough numbers, and the queen still had some fight in her. After the carnage, a few rushed back to send for reinforcements. I was forgotten, left here amongst the larvae.”
“So, trolls are numinous creatures?” Gretchen asked. “They’re of the light? I always thought they were twisted from one of the dark gods.”
“Oh, they are. They are indeed. But the banded sylph, the rarest, most delicate of fairies, are children of light. They are a delicacy, most desired. These are not to be confused with the standard, run-of-the-mill wood sylph. For the riven, the ruling class species of the Estuary, the meat of a single banded sylph imparts enough light to make it so they never have to eat again. They are permanently transformed by the experience, given something just short of immortality. A cable beast corporation that presents a banded sylph to a riven is rewarded greatly. Wars are fought over a single sylph.”
“Okay,” Popper said. “So what do these fairy things have to do with trolls? I don’t get it.”
Kant coughed, and a red, watery substance came from his mouth. “You wouldn’t know, would you? It is a rare thing, the birth of a troll queen. Do you know what black podlings are?”
“I do,” Gretchen said. “They’re plants, like large Venus flytraps. They’ll bite your foot and ruin your shoe if you’re not careful.”
Kant nodded. “They are sweet smelling to fairies, and if one alights upon a black podling, the fairy is gobbled up by the plant, dissolved and digested. Black podlings were placed in this world by the dark god Ozgark, the god of revenge. If certain fairy types are captured, the black podling does not consume the fairy. Instead, it enters a chrysalis stage. A podling that captures a brownie becomes the common wood troll queen. A podling with an undine becomes a water troll queen.”
Gretchen nodded. “And banded sylphs become chasm trolls?”
“Yes,” Kant said. “Indeed. But it is the black podling that becomes the troll mother. The banded sylph itself is kept alive, captured in a fluid, fleshy sac. This sac grows into the mammary gland of the troll mother. The queen mothers are born pregnant with thousands of larvae, and when they give birth, each individual larva suckles upon the mother’s breast, just long enough to get a single drop of the blessed milk. It is this meal that imparts the troll’s ability to regenerate.”
“Wait, so that lady’s tit has a fucking fairy floating around inside of it?” Popper asked. “She has six breasts. Does that mean she has six fairies in her?”
Kant shook his head. “The mammaries of chasm trolls consist of a central reservoir that leads to four to nine additional breasts. This particular one has six.”
“And your tentacle buddies want to cut it out of her?” Popper asked.
“Yes,” Kant said. “Troll mothers are a rare find. By the time their larvae appear, they have usually already fed upon their mother, who has fled. As a result, fairy hunters prize opportunities such as this one.”
“So that’s why her nipples are all infected,” Gretchen said. “The fairy was probably stricken ill by the protection Larissa was telling us about. Her infection spread to the queen mother.”
“I have told you all I know,” Kant said. “Now it is time for your end of the bargain. I am ready to die.”
“Look,” Gretchen said. “We don’t want to hurt you. I know we promised, but…”
Thwack. Kant fell over, dead, Popper’s battle axe cleaving his skull practically in two.
A member of your party has committed murder!
A red skull appeared next to Popper’s name.
“Popper!” Gretchen exclaimed, horrified.
“A deal is a deal,” Popper said. “I knew you and Jonah both would get all mushy and try to talk your way out of killing him.” He looked back and forth between us. Gretchen continued to glare. “What? It’s what he wanted! I was doing him a favor. He’s gonna regenerate anyway. It’s not like it’s a real murder.”
“You got a red skull floating over your head,” I said finally.
“Yeah, I killed an NPC outside of an arena. It goes away in an hour,” Popper said. “I just gotta stay away from guards between now and then, or they’ll arrest me and throw me in jail for 24 hours.”
I pointed up over my shoulder. “You know the captain of the guard along with a bunch of other white jackets are sitting up there right now. They probably just watched you do that.”
“Oh yeah,” Popper said, looking up at the dark tunnel entrance. The dark helmet of Larissa was barely visible in the low light as she glared down at us. “Well, shit.”
Gretchen sighed. “We’ll worry about that later,” she said, turning back to the queen mother. “We need to get close to her. I have an idea.”
Jonah Note 6
“This is the worst idea ever,” Popper said, holding his larva in two hands. The wiggling, scorpion baby thing gave up trying to bite him and now just wanted stick him with its barbed tail. Like the mother, they seemed to have more control over the tails than the appearance would suggest. Popper had to grasp the tail and hold it against its round body to keep it from swiping at him further. It ceased cheeping and now made a sound that was a mix between burping and hissing. I’d once held an angry pug puppy, and it had made a similar sound.
My baby was completely listless. It gave a half-hearted snap when I picked it up, but
that was it. I didn’t even bother to secure the tail. It hung limply, twitching every so often. Gretchen’s was the same.
“Do you want to trade?” I asked, watching Popper struggle with the troll larva, which looked huge in his arms.
“No,” Popper said, breathless. “At least with mine, the queen will know for sure it’s alive.”
Gretchen’s idea was that that queen wouldn’t attack us if we each held a baby in our hands. The small creatures were solid, heavier than they looked.
“Let me go first,” I said, hesitantly stepping toward the line of dead cable beasts, which indicated the furthest scope of the queen mother’s reach. I had the highest dexterity by far, and I’d be the most likely to be able to jump out of the way in time.
“We should make Larissa do this,” Popper said as I stepped over the line, holding the baby up high.
“I thought you didn’t want her stealing our experience,” I said, watching the queen’s tail. It remained coiled on the far side of the room, twitching like a cat. Each time it moved, I tensed, ready to jump away.
“I don’t want her stealing experience,” Popper said. “I also don’t want to be smashed open like a rotten tomato.”
The white pus had the consistency of a melted marshmallow. It clung to my feet, sticking to the ground. The clumpy, sticky pus smelled like sour milk mixed with rotting cheese. I feared if I had to jump out of the way, I wouldn’t be able to.
My larva made a mewling noise, its mouth smacking open and closed, rooting for its mother’s breast. I took a few more steps forward, doing my best to hold down the gag reflex. So far so good.
The queen mother’s entire body shifted, causing my heart to leap. I looked up and met the behemoth’s gaze. She looked at me, eyes glaring absolute hatred. A low, deep growl filled the room.
The cheeping grew silent. I felt the hairs on my arms stand on their ends.
“I don’t know if you can understand me,” I shouted, clutching tightly onto the larva. “But we mean you no harm. You are sick, and we have some medicine for you. I think it’ll make you feel better right away. It will make it so you can feed your babies.”
“Why,” the mother rumbled, surprising me. Her voice was deep, tired. “Why help? Is trick, it is.”
“Oh shit, she speaks,” Popper said.
“Keep her talking,” Gretchen said. “Let’s get as close as we can. Don’t make her angry.”
We took another few steps, angling to stay out of the deeper pools of pus. It covered my boots, and I had to step deliberately and carefully, lest my boot get sucked right off my foot. There’s no way I’d be able to leap out of the way now. If she attacked, I was dead.
“It’s not a trick,” I said. “I am King Jonah of the Dominion. I have a magic salve. I don’t want your babies to eat my city, but I was hoping to heal you and to send you after better prey.”
“What prey is better? What meat is more tender than you?”
“Hobgoblins,” I said.
The queen grunted. “Hobgoblin not tender.”
We reached her side, coming along the wrist of the beast. I didn’t think the tail could get us anymore, but if she gathered enough strength, she could smush us with her hand just as easily. I tentatively put my free hand on the mottled, yellow skin. It felt unexpectedly fibrous, almost as if she was made of fabric. The translucent skin was warm to the touch.
“Maybe not tender,” I agreed, “but there will be a lot of them. When they come, will they share the people they devour with you? Probably not. With us, you can eat them all.”
“That’s your argument?” Popper whispered.
“What else should I say?” I hissed as I tried to pull myself up onto the arm one-handed. I couldn’t do it, so I gingerly handed my larva to Gretchen, who now held two baby chasm trolls. I pulled myself up, hesitantly standing. The surface of the skin felt uneven, like I was standing on a mattress. She didn’t react to my presence. I could feel the thump, thump, thump of her heart, a slow, steady beat, under her skin, pulsing through her arm. I held my breath as I crept closer.
Popper sighed heavily. “And we have the medicine to make your nips all nice and perky again,” Popper called out. “You roll with us, and we’ll keep you healthy. If not, your cute little babies are going to figure out an alternative form of getting fed.”
Underneath me, I felt her relax a bit. I took that as a good sign. I sometimes forgot that Popper, despite his brash manner, had a charisma of 17. It gave him a lot of leeway when talking to NPCs.
On the minimap, her massive dot blinked and turned from red to white. Yes. I looked down at Popper and gave him a thumbs up.
I noted the babies remained red.
“I’m coming up,” I said as I reached the end of the arm. “I’m giving you my medicine now.” I reached into my pack and pulled out the small jar of salve. I hadn’t noticed before, but the jar glowed blue in the low light. I crept towards the closest nipple: the middle, left-side breast. The top left-sided breast was still draped over the troll’s form, but the areola and nipple were out of sight, buried in the pus. I really hoped I wouldn’t have to administer this stuff to all six nipples.
“Okay. Medicine give,” the troll mother said, almost sighing the words.
I pulled the top off the salve, and all hell broke loose.
Twin portals opened up at the far reaches of the room, portals similar to those I had traveled through just a few hours earlier. These ripped open, loudly, as if the air itself was being rent apart. Fog roiled from the portals, and I caught a glimpse of tentacles reaching through both portals.
At the same time, a notification appeared.
Montu forbids non-adherents from using the magical effects of this salve. Do you wish to pray to Montu and give your everlasting devotion? Yes/No.
Oh Christ. “Who the hell is Montu?” I yelled.
“Is betrayal? You betray?” the queen mother screamed at the same time. Above, her tail whipped into a frenzy.
On the far side of the room, cable beasts poured from the twin portals. Dozens of them came, some much bigger than the ones we’d fought earlier in the crystal room.
The cheeping resumed, louder and more panicked.
“We’re on your side,” I called to the queen mother, whose dot, thankfully, remained white.
“Montu is the light god of war,” Gretchen called. “He’s the enemy of Ozgark, the god who makes the trolls.”
“Then heal,” the queen mother said. “Heal now or we all die.”
“It says I can’t use the salve unless I worship him. It gives me the option to do so.”
Across the cavern, the cable beasts began picking their way toward us, tossing the larvae aside with their tentacles, cutting through them like weedwhackers. Above and behind them, Larissa and her white jackets scaled down the wall, one after another. If the cable beasts saw, they gave no indication.
“Oh crap,” Gretchen called. “That’s going to be a problem. He’s a good god to worship. He was probably one of the most popular ones, but…”
I didn’t let her finish. We didn’t have time to think about this. I mentally jabbed Yes on the display.
You have been rejected by the deity.
“…Hunters can’t worship him. Only straight-up fighters can. And barbarians. He’s a war god.”
I almost laughed. Almost. I met Popper’s eyes, who glared up at me, his little girl face reddening with rage.
“Popper…” I began.
“No, fuck you. No, no, no. I fucking knew it. I knew this shit was going to happen.”
“You’re going to have to do it,” I said, coming back down the arm of the queen. I held my own arm out for him to grab. “Up with you now. Put the larva down.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? Is that some sort of joke, because I’m not laughing, Jonah. No. No fucking way.” He looked around frantically for an exit. There was none.
“I know, it sucks. I promised I’d do it. I can’t. You can. We don’t have time. It’s
the only way.”
He continued to clutch onto the struggling larva like it was a life preserver.
The queen howled with frustration as the cable beasts shuffled toward us. There had to be at least 50 of them, their red dots merging with the red dots of the chasm troll larvae on the screen, making the map a sea of red.
I noticed that some of the cable beasts wore strange, rectangular flags on their backs, attached via a short pole. The flags reminded me of sashimono, the flags worn by feudal Japanese warriors in battle, to help identify soldiers from one army to the next. The cable beasts descending on us wore two distinct flags: one a sea of gold with a black hook, and the other was a red X on a white flag, similar to the St. Patrick’s Cross flag of Northern Ireland, but the red was much thinner.
Larissa and her white jackets plunged into the back line of the tentacled beasts, their sword and mace clangs rising against the furious cheeping. Larissa’s massive blade cut through a cable beast and flags as multiple larvae bit onto her armored leg.
“Dude,” I said. “Please, I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
“Fucking hell,” Popper said, putting his larva down. He grabbed my hand and pulled himself up as Gretchen dropped both of her larvae and also pulled up onto the massive troll. “I hate you both, you know that, right?”
I shoved the jar at Popper.
“This isn’t going to do anything weird is it?” I asked. “Him worshipping Montu, I mean?”
“Nothing as weird as what you’re about to make me do,” he grumbled as he navigated his menu.
Gretchen had stowed her spear and pulled her longbow from her pack. She hurled bolt after bolt at the cable beasts. Most arrows bounced off the cone-shaped bodies, but a few struck home in the strange, horizontal eye slits near the top of the beasts, causing them to shutter and fall, where they were soon overwhelmed by cheeping larvae.
“Worshippers of Montu get an attack bonus,” Gretchen said, panting with the effort as she knocked another arrow from her endless quiver. “He heals faster from wounds caused during battle. He also gains a bonus to his berserker skill. However, he has to kill at least one thing a day to keep the god from inflicting a penalty on him. I don’t remember what the penalty is.” She loosed an arrow, which struck home. “Got you.”
The Hobgoblin Riot: Dominion of Blades Book 2: A LitRPG Adventure Page 8
