Beastborne- Mark of the Founder

by James T Callum

she finished with a snicker.

  Not bothering to reply to that, Hal pulled out the [Goblinbane] with his left hand, and rewrapped the void chain around his right wrist. Immediately a vine from somewhere up above whipped out and once more it was repelled by an unseen barrier around his arm.

  At least you’re good for something other than esoteric magical symbols that I can’t make heads or tails of, he said to the mark.

  The blade felt awkward and heavy in his left hand but as the growling sounded again, much closer this time, Hal readied himself for a fight.

  He had no intention of backing down ever again.

  The Guild badge’s light cast long stretching shadows between the trees, making it hard to distinguish shapes through the gloom and underbrush. He nearly missed the shifting of the wide-brimmed leaves off to his right.

  Out came a pitch-black creature in the vague shape of a human. The growling came again but not from the creature that stalked toward Hal with malicious intent. Its legs and arms were thick and its entire body was covered in strange mottled skin.

  Its appearance set Hal’s teeth on edge. His instincts told him to flee, that this was wrong but he pushed hard against it and stood his ground.

  The creature stopped ten feet away from Hal.

  Another one stepped out from the trees to his left, then his right. In seconds he was surrounded by 5 of the creatures. They formed a loose ring around him as more joined and stood guard.

  Your Perception has risen to Level 12.

  +2% Perception highlight chance (+24%).

  +5% Awareness of magical items (+60%).

  You learn the Inspection trait.

  By focusing on a monster, you are usually able to view its Level.

  Watching them, they seemed vaguely orc-like. They were the right size, had pointed ears, but something was simply wrong with them.

  It was the way they moved, he realized. Each of them moved like they were part of a larger whole. There was no speech. No looking and judging the distance of another. They simply knew where each other were without having to check.

  Hal looked at one more closely, putting his new trait to work.

  [Wortling | Lv.17]

  Just a few Levels below me. That’s not too bad.

  49

  Hal raised the [Goblinbane] high in his left hand, letting the faintly glowing runes shine along its length. His Founder’s mark projected bright and clear. As one, each of the creatures turned in the direction of his upraised arm. Facing their blank, eyeless gaze upon the mark.

  They hadn’t reacted like that before. None of them had so much as looked in any particular direction, they moved like puppets. It was unnerving.

  Worse by far, was the incessant whispering he could hear but the words were just out of his ability to decipher.

  The black-skinned creatures held a striking resemblance to the things in the glass tubes in the other room and Hal couldn’t help but wonder if these were where they had been set free.

  Everything in this place felt twisted and wrong to him but there was one underlying thread throughout it all: the Founder.

  It was the Founder’s mark that opened the door and it was the Founder’s mark now that seemed to draw the attention of the creatures.

  Heat coursed through his veins and the whispering grew louder. He could make out words within the hushed voices.

  Memories of sigils floated across his vision. While he hadn’t understood what they were or how to use them at the time, he did now.

  Chains dangling off his wrist, Hal traced the sigils branded on his memories through the air. His fingers left trailing lines of light that hung in the air. Heeding the whispering words that filtered into his mind, Hal thrust his hand through the floating sigils, shattering them into sharp points of light.

  His palm out, fingers crooked like he was ready to grasp, Hal felt the familiar surge of power spiral through his chest. It sang in his blood. As one, each of the fractured points of light rearranged into the angular sweeping sigils.

  The mark shifted. It moved up his forearm until it rested just above the back of his palm. Golden lightning flew out in every direction, arcing around trees and through the tall grass. Each arc of golden lightning found its mark, striking each creature’s head.

  The golden Founder symbol pulsed to life on their foreheads. Branding them.

  In an instant, they were connected to him.

  You learn Founder Sigil: Dominate.

  By infusing your intent into the very weave of reality, you can now dominate creatures, shackling their will to your own.

  The projected mark on his hand shimmered, the first time it reacted to anything since it began to take on its holographic form.

  When it stilled a moment later, Hal felt his consciousness expand to include the 10 Wortlings surrounding him and 2 more that were lurking, hidden, in the trees.

  There was another force. Angry and bewildered at what had happened. Something that controlled these creatures normally and had found itself beaten at its own game.

  Hal could feel it beating on the edge of his concentration but found it surprisingly easy to ignore.

  When Ashera burst out of the trees to his left, the sight before her must have clearly worried her. Without a thought for her own safety, she lunged forward at the nearest creature raising a hand above her head and conjuring a darkling orb of magic.

  “No, wait!” Hal shouted, turning to her and putting his hands up in a warding gesture.

  All 10 Wortlings raised their hands at the same time, in the same direction. Toward Ashera. The movement managed to block whatever Ashera had been trying to do and she was pushed off balance.

  The wall of heavy creatures parted as Hal pushed through their ranks to help Ashera to her feet.

  Vorax emerged from the underbrush a moment later, looking about curiously at the Wortlings. The mimic seemed to have an intimate sense of Hal and by extension, any threats to him, because the mimic scooted up to a Wortling without the slightest concern.

  The mimic began knocking its lid against the Wortling’s ankle until Hal ordered the thing to pick it up. Through their sympathetic bond, Hal could feel Vorax’s appreciation and pleasure at having a personal servant.

  “What is going on?” Ashera asked, eyes round and wide. “I thought they were going to kill you.”

  “Me too,” Hal admitted. “But they stopped… it’s got something to do with the mark.”

  Ashera looked at the creatures then back at Hal.

  Heeding his mental commands, the Wortlings lined up in two rows of six. The two creatures lurking in the trees joined the end of their respective lines.

  “That’s… eerie,” Ashera said. She stood by Hal’s side, watching the creatures stand there like wooden dolls. They didn’t sway or shift, or move at all like any living creature.

  If not for the light of their Guild badges, Hal doubted he would have seen them at all. Though the mark they now bore on their foreheads made their dark, camouflage less effective.

  Hal expected the furious Founder to appear any moment with the strength and power to bring down the entire mountain crashing atop their heads.

  He realized that without intending, Hal had built up the Founder to mythical proportions without ever seeing his strength first-hand.

  The constant barrage of off-handed hints by his companions at how powerful the Founders were, coupled with his own fears and nightmares made for a terrifying brew.

  One that, if the Founders were at all smart, would be greatly magnified and filled with as many lies as truths. As effective as PR tactics are in the modern age, they would be infinitely more effective in an age such as Aldim’s.

  Because, regardless of whether he thought the Founders might have inflated their own prowess, the end result was the same: He couldn’t know for sure.

  That uncertainty kept him wary.

  And yet, he couldn’t deny the thrill of it all. The mysteries that lurked behind every door tugged at him, despite the fear a
nd oppressive nature of the place. The Shadow Crawlers came to mind and Hal wondered if he could use Dominate on them as well. He’d test it out as soon as he could.

  Feeling quite safe with an honor guard of a dozen Wortlings, Hal put away the [Goblinbane] and set off once more with Ashera and Vorax. The silent, mottle-skinned creatures flanked them on either side.

  * * *

  The first creature they came across wandering the expansive wooded area was a strange plant that Hal sensed before it was even aware of their presence.

  He had found that through the Wortlings his consciousness was expanded. Through them, he could sense the plantoid that lay in wait for wandering prey. Their heightened senses were his to command.

  Dominate also allowed him to look at their stats and skills. They weren’t even truly alive, he discovered. They were plantoid puppets without the spark of consciousness or even some semblance of sentience.

  They were, in all ways, husks. But he could think of a thousand uses for them that kept the gears in his head turning as they wove through the tall trees of this bizarre indoor forest.

  The Wortlings were part of something more. A hivemind or some controlling influence, Hal wasn’t precisely sure.

  Cut off from that intelligence, they would stand in place soaking up the mana in the air, sustaining themselves until called upon.

  Examining them further displayed their basic stats and abilities.

  [Wortling]

  Lv.17

  Resources

  HP: 197

  SP: 150

  MP: 0

  Resistances

  Fire: -10

  Water: 10

  Lightning: 20

  Earth: 30

  Wind: 0

  Ice: 0

  Piercing: 50

  Slashing: 0

  Blunt: 0

  Defensive Attributes

  DEF: 15

  MDEF: 0

  Abilities

  Ensnare

  Wortlings are capable of opening up their bodies to trap prey and creatures up to 3 times their size.

  Root

  Send roots into the earth, recovering 10 HP per minute. If left rooted beyond their maximum HP, they will instead absorb temporary HP up to 4 times their maximum.

  Mature

  Wortlings can evolve into more dangerous foes by Maturing. Maturation takes a minimum of 15 minutes, and up to a month. Wortlings grow in power, size, and capability as they mature, culminating in a full-grown Worttree if left undisturbed for a month.

  Traits

  Tiring Strikes

  A Wortling delivers its poison with each successful strike. A potent sleeping toxin courses through their opponent's veins, rendering them deeply fatigued until they lose consciousness.

  Swarming

  Wortlings are capable of swarming with incredible efficiency, moving through and within each other’s space without hindrance.

  Plantmind

  All Wortlings and their Worttree parent are capable of maintaining constant communication within 15 miles. If one is aware of a particular danger, all are made aware.

  Woodsense

  Wortlings are automatically capable of sensing anything that resides within 60 feet of itself, so long as they both are in contact with vegetation.

  Hal spent a lot of time pondering over those skills. It painted a very clear picture of a creature that was used to bring back living prey. Everything about it was tailor-made to the end of subduing and retrieving.

  He didn’t want them attacking him, and in fact, he sent them a little farther away. Just in case.

  Using their Woodsense Hal could feel the presence of the plantoid creature off to his left about 40 feet away. The distance was a little fuzzy but he knew precisely which direction it was in and he could point to it with unerring accuracy.

  Thinking it would be a good time to see what the Wortlings were capable of, Hal sent four of them toward it.

  Using monsters to fight monsters seems a little cheap, he thought with a faint smile.

  They moved in disturbing unison.

  To Hal, it felt like playing a summoner or a beastmaster in various games. He had full control over the creature and could command it as simply as he moved his own legs and arms.

  Easier even, because it required no effort on his part beyond a thought.

  Getting used to the Woodsense was the biggest hurdle. There was a general awareness of everything but there were no visual indicators. Like “talking” to Vorax, it was a new experience that required some acclimatization.

  After a few false starts where a Wortling or two bumped into one of the tree trunks, Hal finally got the hang of it.

  The four split off and surrounded the creature that had been alerted to their presence from their bumbling maneuvers. Instead of calling them off, Hal pressed the attack.

  The creature was a Belladonna. Information he gleaned through his connection to the Wortlings. The monster wasted no time in striking out with its long whip-like vines.

  One of the Wortlings was snared in those vines but the others rushed in from each remaining cardinal direction.

  The Belladonna was hard-pressed to keep up with four creatures. It managed to tie up the second Wortling and made a feeble attempt at the third but it was at its limit.

  Overwhelmed, the Belladonna had little resistance against the bite of Wortling’s black claws. Through his connection, Hal could feel the poisonous sleep toxin working its magic on the creature.

  Though the Wortlings were not strong on their own, even in small numbers they were effective hunters. Each strike slowed and drowsed their prey, making it progressively easier to land further strikes and eventually subdue the creature.

  Less than a minute after sending them after the creature, the Belladonna lay limp on the ground. Its vines loose enough that the Wortlings could slip free of their hold.

  The urge was almost automatic to command the Wortlings to use Ensnare and bring back the creature. It was like something of their original master had leaked into his mind. Hal resisted the urge. The Belladonna was not dead, merely unconscious. And he had no intention of bringing it back alive.

  50

  Hal felt a tiny glimmer of guilt as he commanded the Wortlings to kill the defenseless creature. He knew that the Belladonna was not without its own toxins but the Wortlings were hearty creatures. They barely seemed affected by the poisonous defenses the Belladonna possessed.

  Even still, it felt a little wrong.

  Any misgivings he had were instantly wiped away, however, when he saw the familiar prompt.

  Your [Wortling | Lv.17] defeats the [Belladonna].

  You absorb 15 Planttrap Essence.

  You gain 225 Experience Points.

  You earn 22 Sparks.

  You obtain:

  [Vial of Belladonna Sap]

  5 [Lengths of Supple Vine]

  “That’s rare,” said Ashera to his right. She must have seen the same prompt as him.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask,” Hal began, “Are you able to see all the prompts I do, or is it separate?”

  “It depends. There are a lot of variables at work, several skills provide greater insight but as a whole? No. I do not see your prompts. If you mean things like loot drops though? We each get our own loot pool so to speak. Why, did you get some sap too?”

  Hal nodded.

  “Even better,” Ashera grinned and reached into her pouch. She pulled free a small vial filled with swirling silvery fluid. Barely a thimble-full. “Belladonna Sap is very rare. It’s an expensive alchemical reagent used in a lot of high-end recipes. I happen to be decently skilled in Alchemy. I could show you some things, once we make camp again.”

  There was always a new threat, a new danger, or a new crisis to have to deal with. Even though Hal knew things were tense and they were in dangerous territory, he felt strangely hopeful.

  The thought of camping with Ashera, Vorax by his side, and the Wortlings forming a solid perimeter made him feel, per
haps foolishly, safe. They had spent the better part of the day wandering dusty barren tunnels. And at Hal’s insistence, they pressed on further into the strange nature reserve.

  They didn’t even stop for lunch, something Hal’s stomach complained constantly about. They would need to rest soon, but with Ashera’s warning about camping fresh in his mind, Hal wanted to find the right spot first.

  “I would like that, very much,” Hal said. He looked around at the dark space around them. This was no place to make a camp. The black bark of the trees made everything feel cramped despite the ten to twenty feet between each towering tree.

  The nearest limbs were thirty or more feet up into the air and the ground was more often loamy and springy rather than grassy or knotted with roots. It made traversal easy. As if that was the intended design all along.

  This whole place was like a nature reserve. The trees were a little too evenly spaced. There was underbrush but only in some places as if it were a recent thing. And Hal guessed that even the best-kept gardens sprouted weeds every so often.

  Through the Wortlings, he could sense that the forest was widely varied. Though he lacked the requisite knowledge to understand a great deal of what he felt through the connection to the plant creatures, he understood basic things like clearings, rocky terrain, and the like.

  It all felt staged. Planned.

  Specific areas for this environment butted up against a buffer zone of basic forest. Hal sent the Wortlings out in a wide arc around them and soon found at least four distinct biomes at each cardinal direction.

  To the north, the forest gave way to a rolling reek of bogs and swampland. To the south, the trees thinned and the ground became rocky, almost devoid of any vegetation.