Goblinkin a deckbuilding.., p.4
Goblinkin: A Deckbuilding LitRPG, page 4
“Is it?”
“Yeah, there’s like cacti and things.”
“I thought it was totally barren?” Gareth said, feeling like Magda had kept some things from him when describing their destination.
“Yeah well, like, barren enough. It actually seems like there were more plants there in the older books and in the newer ones, if that’s the right word. Like things were dying off. By now there might not even be the few scraps I’ve seen described.”
“Right, so we’re assuming.” Gareth put his fingers against the side of his head and rubbed his temples. “Haven’t we learned anything? You know what, fine, it doesn’t matter anyway. We need to go through all of them eventually. Are we nearly ready to go?”
“In a few minutes, yeah,” Imelda said.
Behind them, the familiar low hum of the lift started up again as the metal disk began to rise into the air. There was no one else in the tower aside from one specific person so it was obvious who was using it. The last few refugees hiding in its walls had finally moved out, the temptation of free houses impossible to resist for any real citizen of Wildermount. For a people who considered stealing tiny parts of their neighbours’ land or stretching out their house into the street itself a national sport, the vast open spaces of the tower were a dream come true.
After a few moments, a familiar sight appeared. For everyone living around the tower, there was one member of their society who was emblematic of their growing settlement more than any other. Henig was the custodian of the tower, the one man who was responsible for their entire new society being possible. Of course, his visage was truly unique, having bound his soul to the tower millennia ago to transform himself into a lich. A walking talking skeleton wearing a robe was hard to forget, especially when it was so affable and prone to getting lost in conversation.
“Ah, you’re nearly ready to go I see,” Henig said, stepping down from the platform. His bare feet made a clacking noise as bone struck stone. “Another expedition already? You’re really flying through these tasks, aren’t you? I must admit when my goddess returned to me, I thought it would be somewhat longer before she started performing miracles.”
“Yeah, well we’re on a timer, aren’t we?” Gareth said. “Not just from the Godswords, but there’s the nightmares back in Wildermount doing who knows what. I’m going to say it, and if any of you will repeat it, I will personally kill you myself, but I wish Jack had come back. Not knowing what’s going on there is annoying.”
“Both problems have the same solution, surely?” Henig titled his skull to the side. He had come to realise that without facial expressions his meaning could be sometimes lost so he was trying hard to exaggerate his body language. “Once her holiness has completed this task, she will have the power to deal with the other.”
“Henig’s right. Dealing with the Godswords should be our first priority,” Magda said, her confidence buoyed by her high-priests adulation. “Besides, if the nightmares are going to have to fight their way through the Wildermount army, then the Republic, then whoever else they go to next. It’s not like people aren’t going to stand and fight. Meanwhile, they don’t know anything about the threat the Godswords pose. Probably best to deal with the thing only we can fix and hope others have got it handled. We’re not the only duellists in the world.”
“Sometimes feels like it,” Gareth said even though he had competed in a tournament barely a week ago. “Will the town be alright whilst we’re gone? Tax will be the only duellist left here and whilst she’s come on leaps or bounds, she’s still pretty new.”
“We’ll be fine,” Henig said with a small bow. “The guards have been improving their equipment and honestly Luthor is more than enough. Besides Krunk and Mazel tell me they think that they might be able to restore the barrier stones. That sounds particularly fascinating.”
“Did they tell you how exactly they want to do that?” Gareth said, suspecting that Henig wouldn’t exactly approve of someone trying to use the ring again. The formless god that had propositioned Sarkuran had come into Acamida whilst Henig had been experimenting with the runic item. He blamed himself for what had happened, even though there was nothing he could have done to prevent it. Having the ring working would have made for an easy method of earning experience and obtaining new cards.
“Ah yes, they did. I think that perhaps it shouldn’t be an issue. Just running power shouldn’t activate the ring,” the lich said. “The first thing that I tried when I was experimenting with it was to flood it with mana. Considering the vast reservoir that the tower provides there’s little to worry about. If that didn’t trigger it, then nothing those two could do would do that.”
“Well, that’s good to hear,”Gareth said. “But you’ll keep an eye on them right?” His eyes locked on Henig’s empty skull. “Uh, metaphorically speaking.”
“Of course. I won’t let them out of my sight. If anyone around the tower can cause trouble, it’s those two.”
***
Krunk held the ring in his hands, holding it up to the light and letting it dance through the blue gemstone that was set into the silver band. Inside something glittered, a swirling mass of azure that danced within the light. Apparently, it was the gateway to a pocket universe, one that was sealed shut until the ring’s power was unleashed.
“All that fuss over this tiny thing?” Krunk said. He shrugged and placed it on the table before him. “Doesn’t seem like much does it?”
“We of all people should know not to underestimate things in small packages,” Mazel said, hammering a wooden rod through a hole she had drilled in a plank. The two groblin had left Thot-Ankor unexpectedly so their equipment was lacking. Mazel had taken it upon herself to build a workbench, even if the spiders could spin one for her. Even if she had spent hours explaining what she wanted it wouldn’t feel right to her. This was something she needed to make with her own two hands.
“Yeah, you’re right there, ain’t ya? Still, we’re going to need a fair whack of stuff if we’re going to make this work. Thing the big stone blokes will actually help us?”
“Eh, maybe? They reckon their god is telling them to help us, so I think they will, but they’ll complain about it the entire time. It’s like being told to do something by an oracle, or a nob, right?”
Krunk nodded. “Fair enough. You know, wish I had bloody known we were going to bolt out of town, would have made sure to grab some proper tools. All I’ve got is a mana dowser, a runic refrangillator, and a spanner. Not exactly the right kind of kit. Probably something we can add to the list, right? They might not have the proper gear, but these Golden fellas are bound to have something we can use. At least a screwdriver or two.”
“You’re weirdly chipper. I thought you might be a bit more annoyed at being asked to do the impossible,” Mavis said as she pushed two pieces of wood together. “It’s not like this is exactly standard practice, innit?”
“Exactly! You can’t tell me you want to spend the rest of your life crawling about in the sewers, fixing sumps and running from death elementals. Not exactly what you dreamed of when you became an engineer, right?” Krunk picked up the ring and held it to the light again. “Nah, this is it, with this we get to do something useful. And it’s just the start. With all the mana on tap here and no restrictions, imagine the wonders we can make!”
Chapter Four
There was something familiar about the rhythm of it all. The preparation, the first few tentative steps underneath the kink Luthor left in his body to act as a gate. Gareth had been here before, setting off into the jungle in search of an ancient teleport platform that would send him careening across the world. For the first time, he realised that despite the platforms being set in the cardinal directions around the tower there was no guarantee that he was being transported along the same path. Henig had shown him a map of the leylines once and the magical conduits twisted and turned across the surface of Acamida. They acted almost like veins, transporting the magic that flowed out of the centre of the planet like blood being pumped out of a heart. According to Magda, it was here that the bulk of her sacrificed power resided, motes of divinity flowing out with the magic and transferring across to souls waiting to be born.
Gareth had to wonder how that worked in a reality like the one he was from, where there were apparently endless numbers of different planets. Perhaps there was a single place where divinity was stored and that the leylines spread out from there, crossing the galaxies like invisible roads. There were probably some aliens out there zipping along them without realising they were magic.
The jungle was getting familiar to Gareth. He hadn’t gone out on more than a handful of hunting trips. It wasn’t really his style and Gareth was certain he was more of a hindrance than a help, his few attempts just to show he was willing to chip in. There was something about the jungle that Gareth was starting to like. It was the way that it was exactly as it seemed, harsh, uninviting, hostile to anything not four times the size of a man and packing razor-sharp teeth. It was dangerous, but it was never trying to conceal that fact. Gareth’s thoughts drifted to Thot-Ankor. That place couldn’t have been more different, any talk of its problems suppressed by the secret police, a city built on lies. In a way all cities were like that, there were always certain things people overlooked to make their lives easier. The homeless man living in a doorway, or the trash piling up under the overpass. Every city had an area that you weren’t supposed to visit because it was too dangerous or the people there were considered outcasts when in truth they needed help. The jungle wasn’t like that. You knew it was dangerous and that it wanted to kill you and the jungle returned the expectation with no compunctions. There was no societal issue at fault, or political policy, or just plain old prejudice. The jungle was simply the jungle.
“We ready?” Imelda said, grabbing the straps of her backpack tightly. It was an odd thing to do when the bag didn’t have any weight to it. The magic flowing through the leather that allowed it to contain far more than it should also removed any weight from the objects. When you wanted something, you simply reached into the bag, the magic providing you with what you were thinking of instantly.
“That’s the third time you’ve said that,” Gareth said. He reached up and wiped away the beads of sweat forming on his brow. It was the one thing that got to him about the jungle. Not the deadly monsters, the massive insects, or the lack of amenities. It was the heat. Gareth just wasn’t built for it. He was from a place on Earth where a constant light drizzle was considered a good summer’s day. “Eager to get a move on?”
“Well, I don’t know, I quite like wandering through the jungle. It reminds me of home.”
“Are there many giant monsters back in the forest?” Sarkuran said.
“I mean, yeah, plenty,” Magda said as she shot Sarkuran a confused look. “Do you not remember the dragon? There was also that wyrm thing that me and Gareth came up against.”
“I seem to remember you had some help with that,” Imelda said.
“Yeah, but you weren’t our friend then, so it doesn’t count.”
It was Sarkuran’s turn to be confused. “I’m rather certain that isn’t how it works. Still, I concede the point. This platform, it should be the same distance as the others, correct?”
“Should be,” Gareth said with a nod. The platforms weren’t far from the tower and Gareth wasn’t expecting there to be any issues. The area around the town had become steadily depleted of ancients. Some had fled from the presence of Luthor whilst the denizens of the town had steadily hunted the others. The bigger predators had moved on to more fertile hunting grounds or been killed when the necrofungus had leaked into the jungle from Thot-Ankor. “It’s really wild when you think about it. Just an hour or so of walking and then woosh, we’re off somewhere else in the world. I mean, we had planes on Earth, which I guess is kind of similar, but they still took time to travel.”
“Right, of course,” Imelda said with a nod. Like the others, she had learned not to ask Gareth about the strange things he said in case she got a long lecture about a world she would never visit. When she had first met him, Imelda wasn’t sure she had entirely believed his story but with all the things she had seen and done it was impossible not to now. There were enough new cultures on Acamida that she was trying to wrap he head around. For most of her life, the entire world had consisted of the Forest and Wildermount, with some distant idea that the Republic existed to the west and that there was a vast barren region to the northeast. “Well, speaking of travel time-”
“Are we ready?” the others repeated in unison.
“I’ve still not had an answer.”
“Of course, we are,” Gareth snapped. “Let’s get moving.”
Silence fell over the party as they walked, the whole exchange casting an awkward pall over things. Gareth didn’t mean to bark at Imelda, but the heat was getting to him and making him cranky. He hoped that the other side of the teleporter was more temperate, but he didn’t hold hope. It sounded like the kind of place Gareth had only seen in American-made western movies and as far as he was concerned that counted as another desert. That didn’t bode well for the temperature, at least the pyramid had possessed some kind of magically generated air conditioning.
The pathways between the teleport platforms were still treacherous. Whilst the platforms were close, they were still beyond the limits of what was considered safe for the populace of the town. That meant they hadn’t cut pathways through the thick brush yet or moved any fallen trees that would block the way. With the tightly packed trees of the rainforest constantly battling for control of the canopy one that fell—generally from the passing of the larger ancients—could easily get stuck between two of its kin and block the only pathway between them.
Thankfully that didn’t seem to be the case with the route the party started on, though there were some close calls where they were forced to crouch down beneath vine-covered logs to squeeze through to the next opening. Having to do it put them all on edge, it would be easy for an ancient to pounce on them as they did it, or even one of the giant insects called skitherak who had hives dotted around the jungle. Gareth and his friends had come across one such hive when looking for a ruined structure that had belonged to Henig’s people and they had no desire to do the same again.
“Hang on a minute,” Imelda said, signalling for the group to stop. “We should grab some of those.” She pointed upwards at a tree nearby. From its branches bright green fruit was growing, fat glistening orbs covered in a waxy skin. The sight was familiar to the whole group, the fruit had been found in the first days of coming to the tower and had proven edible. The inside was made of juicy segments like an orange, but the juice tasted strongly of apples. It was an odd but pleasant combination.
“We don’t need those, surely?” Gareth said. “We’ve got enough supplies, right?”
“Foraging means you’re not using up your stockpile. That’s just survival basics. Besides, the fruit will keep our energy levels up. Probably best to be alert for when we go through the teleporter,” Imelda said, already striding up to the tree and searching its trunk with her hands looking for somewhere to grip. “I am the expert here, remember?”
“I suppose.” Gareth was willing to concede on that point. “I can allow it if it doesn’t take long.”
“You’ll allow it? Oh, how lucky we are to have such a wise and benevolent leader.” Imelda stuck out her tongue at Gareth and then turned to face the tree. In a flash, she was scrambling up it, two decades of experience meaning it came as easy to her as walking.
“That was a bit big-headed of you,” Magda whispered to Gareth.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Gareth replied, much less quietly. “It just came out like that.” He crossed his arms and grumbled to himself as he stared at the floor. It wasn’t Gareth’s fault the others had foisted him into a leadership position.
“Heads up down there,” Imelda said, pulling a fruit from a branch and tossing it down towards the ground. “Incoming.”
Gareth looked up from his self-imposed sulk and watched the fruit tumble through the air. As it moved its green skin caught the few strands of light that had fought their way through the dense canopy. He reached out his hand to catch it and groaned audibly as it slipped through his fingers and hit the ground, rolling a short distance before coming to stop near the roots of a nearby tree.
“What’s the concept they have on Earth?” Magda said with a smirk. “Karma is it.” She reached out and caught another of the fruit without even looking at it. “Should go and fetch it then,” she said as she began to peel the skin off hers.
Gareth didn’t give her the satisfaction of an audible answer. Instead, he shuffled over towards the tree and bent down to pick up the fruit. He stopped as his fingers brushed the skin, Gareth’s attention caught by something else.
“Not too heavy for you, is it?” the goddess said.
“No, that’s not it. Come here a second, especially you Melds,” Gareth said.
“Is it important?” Imelda shouted from her branch. “I know I make it look easy getting up here, but it really isn’t.”
“Yeah, I think this is important. Really important.”
Imelda sighed and rolled her eyes as she leapt towards the trunk of the tree. She grabbed an exposed section of bark with her right hand and swung her entire body around so that her feet landed on the branch of the tree next to it. She pushed off, launching herself towards the body of the first tree, kicking off to send her trajectory towards the ground. She went into a forward roll as she hit the ground, springing back up to her feet with impressive grace and stopping only to brush dirt from her cloak.
“This better be good,” she said as she strode towards Gareth. The others were already huddled around him, staring at the ground near the root. Imelda came to a stop behind Gareth and stretched forward to look over his shoulder.
Set in the mud before him was a footprint, one with only four toes so it certainly wasn’t human of wyrmkin. It was obvious from the shape that whatever had made it wasn’t wearing shoes of any kind and from the series of footprints that stretched off into the undergrowth before the one Gareth had spotted it couldn’t have been very tall.
