Goblinkin a deckbuilding.., p.26
Goblinkin: A Deckbuilding LitRPG, page 26
“So, is the world still going to explode?” Imelda said.
“Yeah, I think so.” Magda was going off the information absorbed from the fragment of herself stored in the first Godsword. She wasn’t entirely sure about all the details and had hoped finding more fragments of her past personality might fill in the blanks. The part of her in the second Godsword had been used to create the first Golden and Magda found it hard to be annoyed at the birth of an entire species.
“Well, we better fix this thing then, right?”
“Fix it? How exactly are we going to do that?” Sarkuran said. “Henig knows some small amount of Eternal, but I suspect crafting a new Godsword isn’t within his abilities. Even if we could do it there’s not going to be enough mana in there to perform its designed task, correct?”
“No, that part should be fine. Like, I think that the fact that they charge is a backup. As soon as we turned the first one on it began drawing a lot more so it was ready to fire.”
“So, if one got severed from the leylines for some reason it still had a charge to contribute to the attack?” Gareth said.
“Yeah, exactly. I’m not super certain sorry, it’s not like I have everything written down clearly, it’s all half-remembered stuff. Vague ideas and that. It’s like when you take something out of your bag, set it down to do something and when you come to do it you’ve forgotten why. All you’re doing is standing there looking at your spare knife or something wondering why you wanted it.”
“It really doesn’t matter considering repairing it is beyond our abilities.”
“Is it? Krunk seemed pretty confident he could fix the broken barrier stone before we left,” Gareth said. “If he’s managed to do that then why can’t he fix the Godsword? They’re both using Eternal runes to work and they’re both kind of broken in the same way. If you squint.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Imelda said.
“You got any others? We’ve got to try, right? We’ve not been through all of this nonsense to get here only to not bother trying to fix anything. We should get closer, make sure it’s not dangerous or anything before we come back here with the groblins in tow.”
“Let me just get all of this straight,” Sarkuran said, rubbing the sides of his temples. “There’s a massively powerful artefact that’s leaking raw magic into the land around it, so much so that it’s created creatures formed of pure power, and you wish to get closer to it?”
“Yeah.”
“And then, provided we aren’t instantly fried to a crisp or killed by some unfathomably powerful beast, you want to come back here and entrust survival of the entire universe, every world, every reality, every soul in every corner of existence, to Krunk?”
“Basically, yes,” Gareth said. He held up a finger suddenly as he remembered something, a fact that trumped Sarkuran’s point. “And Mazel. Don’t forget her.”
“Oh of course. How could I forget? I just want to say that this is a terrible plan. Just awful.”
“Have you got a better one?”
“I do not, which is why I am willing to go along with it. We have very few options and this is the, as some might say, the best of a bad bunch.”
“We’re going to want to avoid these herds if we can,” Imelda said. “We don’t want to spook them, or you know, find out they’re predatory.”
“Would they attack us? They’re mana elementals, they shouldn’t need to eat, right?” Gareth was certain that was the case, or at least close enough. Tax and her people absorbed mana from the land around them rather than consume food.
“So? Didn’t stop you getting attacked way back in the forest, did it? Elementals don’t work like that,” Imelda said, waving her hand towards the creatures in the distance. “They’re not just representations of a place, but the things that are in them, or at least I reckon so. A Woodwyrm attacks people because a regular flesh and blood wyrm would. I’m sure some scholar somewhere has a grand theory on why.”
“Ok, so we keep clear. Seems easy enough, they’re big.”
“You’re being very chipper about all of this,” Magda said. “What’s going on with you?”
“Well, you know, I nearly died. Again,” Gareth said, giving a casual shrug, “Eventually I will find myself in the afterlife again and you know what, I would much rather there’s a friendly face waiting for me. All we can do is try, right?”
Sarkuran chuckled. “A fair statement. Very well then, the world in the hands of a tiny green idiot it is.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Henig sat in the sole chair in his room, a great stone thing he had spent the first fifty years of his lichdom occupying until he had gotten bored. Now it felt like a throne, the various representatives of the different people of the tower assembled before him. Krunk and Mazel were there, as were Mariska and Tax. The people of Wildermount hadn’t chosen a leader from amongst themselves yet so for now Henig was acting on their behalf. They were mostly human, and he had been one once, he was fairly certain of that despite his failing memory.
“This was rather a mess, wasn’t it?” Henig said, putting his hands together, bone scraping against bone. He was careful with his body language; it was difficult to get across his emotions without a face. “Do we know what went wrong?”
“Not entirely sure if I’m being honest,” Krunk said, scratching his head as he did. “I think it’s obvious that the ring activated. Don’t know how though, it shouldn’t have. We were putting the excess mana through the connection into that weird universe thingy. It shouldn’t have forced it open.”
“Weird universe thingy?” Mariska said shaking her head. “So, you don’t really know what you’re doing. Disappointing.”
“I was working on what I knew. If Henig was still trying to get the ring working that would have been a rousing success.”
“True,” Henig conceded. “Though I’m not sure it’s a success if a monster emerges from the portal as it did. It was fortunate that Tax and I were here to defend us with Luthor locked out as he was.” Monsters weren’t the worst thing that could have come through the portal. Henig had been told of Sarkuran’s encounter with one of Magdalena’s offspring. The longer that the portal was open the greater the chance another of their kind could have broken through into Acamida.
“Well, at least we know the barrier works,” Krunk said with a shrug.
Mazel rolled her eyes. “Yeah but it’s no good if it drops monster inside with you. I told you this was a bad idea.”
“What if you use something other than the ring?” Tax said, skittering side to side as she spoke.
“Well, yeah,” Mazel said. “That would solve the problem easily enough. Pity we don’t have anything like that.”
“You should have asked,” the spider said. “I can sort something like that for you easily.”
Henig leant forward in his chair. “Really? That’s surprising.”
“It’s easy! You just need to store mana, right?”
“An off flow for the excess, yeah,” Krunk said.
“How much mana? A lot I’m assuming.”
“Enough to open a portal into another world, I guess.”
“So, it would need to be big then.” Tax thought for a moment. “Yeah, we can do that. We can spin a web that absorbs mana. It’s how we birth new spiders; the mana infuses the form their parents make. We sometimes use it to harvest mana for us to consume at a later time if the flows aren’t good.”
Krunk let out a long-pained groan. “You mean all this time you could have just built up a battery? Just spun up some big pink pillar that does the job? All that effort with the matrix to contain the ring and it was pointless.”
“Well, you learned something at least,” Mazel said, tapping her counterpart condescendingly on the shoulder. “Plus, if we ever find a way to go back to Thot-Ankor we can bring one of the spiders with us, imagine the kind of sump work we could pull off if they can just spin a battery of any size we need.”
“Regardless, are we certain that attempting this experiment a second time is wise?” Mariska said. “Consider what happened.”
“Well, without the ring involved it won’t happen again.”
“Very well.” Mariska trusted Mazel far more than she did Krunk and was willing to take the groblin’s words at face value. “I must say I am intrigued by this idea that there are other worlds. That’s a very interesting concept. It doesn’t fit into the cosmology as I understand it, but it’s hard not to disregard seeing the portal with my own eyes.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Krunk said, smiling at the living statue even if it meant craning his neck upwards uncomfortably. “You’ll get used to crazy stuff if you hang around here enough.”
“Evidentially.”
“I think, perhaps, I will hang on to this for now.” The ring had been placed atop one of the precarious piles of books that filled Henig’s chamber. The lich leant forward in his chair and picked it up. He examined it for a moment, blue light dancing within the single stone. Henig was certain it was brighter than it used to be. He slipped it into one of the pockets on his robe. “If the ring is removed from the equation, I can’t see there being any issue with attempting the experiment a second time. If Tax and her people can truly build what we need then having the option of activating the barrier is a welcome one.”
“Gotta say,” Krunk said with a flick of his wrist. “You were pretty impressive when that thing came through. Weird seeing something so clearly an undead construct not be filled with fungus mind.”
“Thank you,” Henig said, accepting the compliment. Strictly speaking, he was also an undead being free from the influence of the corrupting fungus that plagued Thot-Ankor but he didn’t feel like correcting the groblin. “It’s been a while since I’ve had to deal with something like that. I was never a competent duellist back when I was alive. I think it’s hard to remember most of the time. I’m certain that most dedicated duellists would be superior to me, and if I’m correct there were many.”
“From the few scrolls I have examined there seems to have been a surplus of decks amongst the people here,” Mariska said. The translation rune had been chiselled into her shoulder when she had arrived, along with the rest of her retinue. She had been hesitant, but its benefits had become obvious immediately. The design had been sent back to the pyramid where it—as far as Mariska understood—had become the fashion to have engraved. “That must have been a sight. I’ve run the pyramid’s guild for a long time and I’m not entirely certain how we would cope if everyone had a deck.”
“From what I gather the sudden appearance of decks amongst the populace of Wildermount is partly responsible for the troubles they had,” Henig said. “I suppose our culture was used to it.”
“It certainly would be an adjustment.”
The platform at the centre of the room began to descend, leaving a gaping hole in the floor. It was an issue with the tower’s design, one that hadn’t quite been fully solved. Gareth had once explained to Henig how similar systems on his world existed in their own shafts inside corridors and operated in tandem to prevent someone from being stuck. The lich had filed the ideas away in his mind, when he was feeling strong enough, he planned on shifting the layout of the tower to achieve something similar. When he had been living alone the location of the lift hadn’t been a problem.
“Ugh,” Mazel grunted. “That’s annoying. We’re stuck up here until whoever is using that is done? Didn’t think that through did you Henig.”
“I didn’t build the tower,” the lich said. He would shrug if he could, but no longer having muscles had strange effects on his range of movement. “Your complaint is a few thousand years out of date.”
With their discussion seemingly complete the group gathered in Henig’s chamber waited for the platform to return. Krunk had put his foot on the recall rune and was tapping it repeatedly as if it somehow made the platform float faster.
When it returned it do so bearing a passenger. One of the Golden warriors was standing near the control runes, his great stone arms crossed. He nodded as he saw Mariska and stepped off the platform just before it slid into place.
“High scribe,” the Golden said, bowing slightly. “I apologise for interrupting your meeting but there is a problem.”
“What kind of problem? We have no secrets from our allies,” Mariska said. Her goddess had been very clear that was to be the case.
“Not a problem for us, for this…settlement. There is a crowd of creatures standing near the head of the dragon and demanding entrance.”
“What kind of creatures?” Henig said. Luthor hadn’t moved which he suspected meant that whoever was out there the dragon didn’t consider them a threat.
“Like those, noble priest.” The Golden nodded at Mazel and Krunk.
***
Henig looked down at the little creatures before him. There were easily three dozen of them and he was certain there were more lurking amongst the trees. What they were was unmistakable, Henig was looking at a large pack of goblins.
“This is rather, unexpected,” Henig said. “I had no idea there were goblins living in the jungle.”
“More of your kin, Master Krunk?” Mariska had said. The small council that had gathered in Henig’s chamber had walked in unison to meet the visitors.
“No!” Krunk snapped. “These are goblins. We’re groblins. That’s different.”
“You goblin,” Boss said. He had been coaxed out of the warren by Grobbit’s constant demands to see the tower. “Are green, have ears, goblin.”
“Groblin,” Krunk corrected. “We might look alike, but we’re different species entirely. Maybe in the past, we were the same…”
“No, are goblins. No need to do lyings.”
“Well, whatever the case may be, how can we help you, fine people?” Henig said, adopting his best diplomatic tone. He didn’t feel in danger, the goblins had approached the living wall of Luthor with no attempt at stealth.
“Goblins just wanted to see,” Boss said. “Gareth sayings you are friends, so we came.”
“Gareth? You’ve met our friends then?” Henig was a little shocked. The party was supposed to head straight to the teleport platform. If they had come across the goblins they had to have gotten side-tracked somehow.
“Yes, they helpings us. I am Boss. You is?” Boss tapped his chest with his staff to indicate he was talking about himself. The others spoke just as strangely as Gareth had and he didn’t want anything to get lost in translation.
“I am Henig.” The lich was impressed that the goblins didn’t fear him. “This is the tower. If you’re friends of Gareth then you are welcome here.” Something caught the corner of his eye, even if Henig’s eyes were invisible arcane constructs rather than a physical organ. Krunk was staring wide-eyed at him and slowly shaking his head from side to side. Henig wasn’t going to turn anyone away even if it made Krunk uncomfortable.
“Thankings you,” Boss said. “We are lookings forwards to it.”
Chapter Thirty
Dust kicked up with every footstep as Gareth trudged his way towards the shattered Godsword. The entire wasteland seemed to be covered in a thick layer of the stuff, the great herds kicking up massive clouds as they made their way across the landscape. Gareth wondered how far the wasteland extended outwards. For no one to have made their way here and tried to secure the rampant mana it had to be a long way, long enough for the effect to die down and give the outskirts the impression of being a dead land, one not worth exploring.
The creatures were keeping their distance from the party. This was helpful because there was very little cover. The wasteland was mostly flat and lacked any real defining features aside from a few scattered rocks. It meant that anything intending to attack the party would be easy to spot but there was also nowhere to hide. Normally Gareth would have been certain of his ability to defend himself but the recent struggle against the pterosaur had knocked his confidence a little. There was also the small problem of not knowing what a creature that represented mana on an elemental level could do. Any kind of confrontation posed a heavy risk.
A bead of sweat trickled down his brow and splashed onto the collar of his shirt. It was interminably hot, the sun blazing down from overhead. It was a different kind of heat to the rainforest; Gareth had steadily grown used to its humid atmosphere. The air in the wasteland was so dry that it seemed to pull the sweat from Gareth’s skin like it was trying to drink deep of his moisture.
“This place sucks,” Gareth muttered as he took another step. He could see that his friends were struggling just as much as he was. Cloaks had been removed and tucked into bags; shirts unbuttoned to expose as much skin as they dared. The irony was that despite the revealing nature of her outfit Magda was suffering the worst, all that skin on show just meant more of her was being exposed to the sun.
“Yeah, not a fan,” Imelda said. Her pale skin was starting to turn a familiar shade of pink. She would be paying for the trip in pain and peeling skin for a while.
“Maybe we can add a large parasol to our shopping list the next time we’re in a civilised area,” Sarkuran said. “That would be useful in places like this. This is the second time we’ve entered a desert through a platform.”
“Is this a desert?” Gareth said. He wasn’t entirely sure what the wasteland was classed as. There was no sand, just endless dusty rock with the occasional cactus. “Isn’t it something to do with rainfall?”
“I’m not entirely certain. I believe this it’s one of those know-it-when-you-see-it kind of things. Personally, in my humble opinion, this certainly counts.”
“I wonder, if it is about rain then what about cold arctic regions? Do those count as deserts?”
“A what?” Imelda said, regretting the question just after she said it.
“An area covered in ice,” Sarkuran said, butting in before Gareth could go into a long explanation. “Think like the peak of a mountain, but across a large area.”
