1.29 – I Was Made for This

Shield Slam I: 30 seconds.

Tempo I x5: 6 seconds.

Jaws of Defeat: Minor increase to defense/magic defense from Resilience and Ward.

The mass of zombies before her fell back like a wave of grain in the wind. She hit them just as Tempo was about to drop off, refreshing her buff and clearing a path to the shaman all at once. Her boots pressed against soft, rotten flesh, treading on an uneven road to moaning and helpless corpses. Once she cleared the obstacle and hit solid stone once again, she pushed her combined Might and Finesse into a burst of speed.

The shaman raised a hand as it scrambled back and away, trying to put as much distance between itself and Rika. The dull red glow of the shaman’s glyph told her exactly what was coming, but she didn’t care. It couldn’t stop her, and in the end it wouldn’t matter. She knew it, and the shaman knew it. The fear in its putrid yellow eyes screamed a library’s worth, and there was nothing left that could truly stand in Rika’s way.

Lesser Mark of Pain I: Minor damage over time applied. Agony applied. Might scaling reduced. 12 seconds.

The Agony hit her as she vaulted over the little stone table in the center of the cavern. She landed and slammed down a Dark Strike on the shaman. While her Might scaling may be reduced by the Lesser Mark of Pain, she still had the Magic component of her ability. Besides, reduced damage was still damage—and the shaman was made of paper.

The goblin screamed, a pained mix of panic and rage, and swiped at her with the skull-topped staff. The attack came from her left, so she just took it on her shoulder, letting her brigandine do its job. Whatever this thing’s Might score was, it wasn’t enough. Under the layers of metal, leather, and padding, she barely felt the staff connect. The hit didn’t even cause her to drop Tempo.

“I’m the worst thing that’s ever happened to you,” Rika forced out around the burning fire behind her eyes and coursing through her veins. “I was made for this.”

The weakness of spellcasters was their utter inability to stand up to a someone hitting them in the face. Her father—Maximilian, she corrected—had kept household guards expressly to account for that fact. There were little more than fodder, really. Should the manor ever come under attack, the guards would hold off the bulk of the attackers while Maximilian rained destruction down from the safety of the parapets. At least in theory. Nobody had dared attack Blackstone Manor in Rika’s lifetime, as Maximilian’s presence was deterrent enough.

But more relevant to Rika’s current situation were the three basic roles of an adventuring party. The Bulwark’s job was to both keep the attention of enemies and to protect the less durable members. Strikers were there to deliver as much punishment as quickly as they could. Support made sure everyone else could do their jobs as effectively as possible.

Right now, Rika was a lesson in what happened when Strikers didn’t have an adequate Bulwark to protect them. While the greater goblins had still lived, the shaman had been free to do as it pleased. It pelted her with fire and raised zombies. There must have been a pretty short limit on how far it could use its Lesser Mark of Pain, otherwise it would have used the ability sooner. But now? Now, it had nothing. No protection or any allies capable of standing between itself and Rika. It was fully at her mercy, and Rika had none to give.

The shaman called another firebolt. Rika swept out with her axe. Although she was a fraction too late, she still took its hand. The explosion of flame engulfed her, burning her skin through her layers of mundane protection and redoubling the pain she already fought against. The sight of the lifeless appendage falling to the ground and the sound of another bloody scream made it all worth the price.

Something grasped her from behind. A hand on her armor followed by a weak and ineffective pull. She shrugged it off and batted the zombie away with her heater shield. The horde of lesser zombies was basically on top of her now, but she only had eyes for the shaman. Shoving the zombies back with another Shield Slam, she turned back to where the shaman scrambled away from her.

Rika advanced. For the second time since coming into this death-pit of a cave, she gave herself over to the call of battle. The call of power. This differed from the previous time, when she’d been pushing herself against the press of goblins driven by their greater goblin lieutenant. Then, she’d reveled in her ability to survive, to defy the odds, and stand against something that should have crushed her.

This time, she was the impossible foe. She was the force that could not be contained, the inevitable specter of death drawing closer with every beat of a frightened heart. She loomed over the shaman, and her axe fell once more.

As she wrenched her axe away from the goblin, it trailed a string of ruby droplets glistening in the firelight. Zombies grabbed onto her legs, their claws scratching ineffectually at her suede leather trousers and sturdy boots. Erik landed a Mend on her, healing the burns from that last firebolt and the drain from the final seconds of the shaman’s Lesser Mark of Pain. She kicked away several of the goblin zombies, bashed one more with her heater, then simply yanked her other leg free.

She advanced on the shaman again. It cradled the staff in the crook of its arm, unable to hold it and cast at the same time any longer. Another firebolt exploded on her chest. She stepped through the flames and kicked the shaman into a stalagmite. It screamed at her in fury and fear, a desperate, last-ditch effort to intimidate her and perhaps save itself.

Rika loomed over the shaman. Dark Strike ticked down. As she lifted her axe, Dark power blazed along its orange-gleam edge.

Enemy Slain: Goblin Shaman (Elite) – Level 15

The sound of two score bodies hitting the stone floor behind her confirmed what she’d suspected and had been counting on. A shame they didn’t give her any experience, though. The pressure below her ribs felt like she was about halfway to level thirteen. Hopefully, the quest reward would get her the rest of the way.

• Quest Complete – Goblin Stronghold. Turn in at any Guild Hall.

  
  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
  

  • Clear the goblin stronghold in the vicinity of Canyon Falls.

  • Recommended Level – 8+

  • Recommended Party – 4

  • Rewards – ???

The battle lust faded, and exhaustion crashed over her. They’d done it, though. The quest was marked as complete, and all they needed to do now was make it back to Canyon Falls. Their insane push into what should have been their grave was over. At last.

Erik approached, and the familiar swell of healing energy cascaded over her as he tossed another Mend her way. “I can’t believe we did it,” he said. He meant it, too. The disbelief and wonder were naked in his words. The relief was clear on his boyish face, too.

“You’re the one who insisted we do it,” she said as she scooped up the goblin’s staff. As she picked it off the fallen shaman, Chryson fed her the details of the item.

• Ebonwood Focus – (Uncommon) A staff crafted of ebonwood and topped with a humanoid skull. Grants ability: Raise Lesser Zombie. Requires a nearby corpse (0 charges remaining).Scaling: Magic, CCrafted by: (Error)

“Chryson, anything else you can tell me about this?”

“Anything specific, beyond clarification of the description?” he asked, his musical voice cascading into her thoughts. It seemed he’d read into her intent rather than get cheeky.

“Yeah,” she answered, turning the staff over in her hands. “Charges. How many would it have had, and can they be refilled? Also, the crafted by. Never seen that before. I’m assuming ‘error’ isn’t the name of the person who made this.”

“You assume correctly, Miss Rika. Somehow, and for whatever reason, the person who made this item has chosen to obscure their touch, so to speak. As for the charges, I couldn’t say how many it may once have had, but they can be renewed. Doing so would be rather costly, however. Whether that expense is worth the price will depend on the item and the ability it provides.”

She could see some of the potential utility for something like this if it were recharged. A horde of lesser zombies might make for a distraction, at least.