12-85. Overwhelmed
Marus pulled himself out of the water and onto the beach, frustrated beyond belief. Nearby, the other soldiers he’d brought with him waded ashore. No one – aside from Brifik, who’d succumbed to the wounds inflicted by the wood-clad fighter – had died. Miraculously so, considering that the last few hours had been an exercise in constant battle.
“Were those giant crabs?” asked the mage, Forta. She wrung the salty water from her hair.
“One of ‘em snipped my spear in two,” complained Nobi, a gnomish Warrior. “Thing cost me an arm and a leg, it did.”
“That fucking crab almost took an arm and a leg,” muttered an elven scout named Kalia. “How were they so fast?”
“Crabs in water,” Marus growled. “It would have been weirder if they were slow.”
“But what about those riders? Have you ever seen anything like that?” asked Kalia, her gaze scanning the tree line.
Marus shook his head. In his more than a century of life, he’d seen hundreds of mounts. Lizards, ursines, and even boars. One man back in Olafont City had even managed to train a giant worm to function as a mount. However, he’d never even considered the idea of someone riding a giant crab.
And rightly so.
Crabs could be dangerous enough, but they weren’t exactly powerhouses. And with their awkward sideways shuffle, riding them would prove logistically problematic. Yet, that was the chosen mount of the island’s defenders, which he found incredibly baffling. Even more confusing was just how effective they’d been.
Neither the creatures nor their riders were particularly strong. Not even ascendents, according to his sense for such things. The crabs were a little better, but not by much. Despite that comparative dearth of power, they had proven incredibly adept at using hit-and-run tactics to slow Marus and the others.
He could only assume that was because the crabs, as well as their riders, were fighting on their home turf. Once they were out of the water, they wouldn’t be nearly as frustrating to fight.
Unfortunately, he’d been robbed of the satisfaction of killing them, because the crab-riders had fled out to sea when his people made it to the rocky shore. He would’ve given a real natural treasure to wrap his hands around the little gnomish girl who’d spearheaded the entire affair.
Or maybe to recruit her.
That kind of talent in someone that young was rare enough that Marus could count on quite a bonus for bringing her back to for real training. But she’d already disappeared, and if the girl was smart, she wouldn’t return.
Unfortunately, smart didn’t usually keep company with the sort of viciousness she had displayed. More likely, she’d do something stupid and overstep the bounds of her power – like so many who’d come before her. And an infinite number of people who’d follow in those footsteps.
That was the issue with the life. If you pinned all your hopes on advancing via combat, you would almost inevitably fall afoul of something stronger or more talented than you.
“I should’ve just been a Baker,” he said under his breath. That had been his parents’ profession, and he’d been offered the Tradesman archetype, presumably to follow them into the family business. Instead, he’d chosen the Ranger archetype, eventually gaining the Cutthroat class that had evolved into his current Trickblade class.
It had served him well, mostly because, as an Exotic version of the Uncommon Scoundrel class, it held a bit more oomph than normal. Because of that, he’d managed to make a name for himself and join the Green Mountain Mining Guild as an auxiliary mercenary. Technically, he didn’t even work for them, but they’d provided the means for his continued progression.
But that well had begun to dry up. Never was that more obvious than when he’d finally reached level two-fifty. He’d eagerly reported to the branch, hoping to advance to demi-god, only to find that he had no available options. The reality was that he’d hit a bottleneck, and if he wanted to somehow squeeze through, he needed to resort to desperate measures.
The sort represented by a mostly unguarded Druid’s grove. With the treasures on that island, there was a good chance that he could jumpstart his cultivation. That was the most viable way to unlock class options – unless he wanted to spend years slowly accumulating feats on his legacy. That meant running towers, over and over again until he could manage optimal grades. Or somehow sneaking into a few Primal Realms.
In short, Marus had no intentions of leaving Earth. Back home, he was a tiny fish in an ocean. But on this newly integrated planet? He could become someone truly worthwhile. And if the treasures didn’t push his cultivation forward, then he could dip into a few Primal Realms.
After all, there was no one around to regulate them. No wealthy nobility to restrict access to those in favor. No mighty merchant guilds to dangle the possibility of entry as a reward for decades of service. No – it was wide open. Now, Marus just needed to take advantage.
He also needed to somehow escape Cornelius’ inevitable wrath. Going against the other dwarf’s orders was a calculated risk. The demi-god was occupied by his current task, which meant that Marus had a good chance of getting away.
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Because he knew something most didn’t. Everyone was aware that Cornelius was a demi-god. What they didn’t know was that his time on Earth was limited by his supply of fortifying potions. Without those, he would slowly weaken due to the planet’s thin atmosphere. Because of that, he couldn’t remain indefinitely – a fact that Marus was counting on for his own escape.
Continuous progression was a cutthroat business, and while he would regret leaving a few of his comrades, it was a sacrifice he was willing to make. The same was true of their current endeavor, which had already devolved into bloodshed. Doubtless, more lives would be lost along the way.
Not that he would say as much to those who’d followed him to the island. He needed them focused.
“Remember that this is a Druid’s grove. You know what to expect.”
That was probably a faulty assumption. None of them had ever actually visited such a place, but they’d all heard plenty of stories about guardian beasts and truly magnificent flora. They had also heard cautionary tales about people who’d dared to violate the sancity of a Druid’s grove.
Those had never ended well.
But this was different. Not only was the founder trapped in a Primal Realm where he couldn’t affect the situation, but the grove itself was underdeveloped. Its size was evidence enough of that, though Marus had been more than a little surprised to find such a dense atmosphere of ethera that had only thickened the closer he’d drawn to the island.
That just meant there was something valuable in there.
The others nodded along, though they needed no reminders for vigilance. They knew the stakes.
When they advanced from the beach, they did so in a tight formation meant to protect them from any assailants. On the outside were the Warriors, with Healers and Sorcerers in the interior. Marus and the other Rangers scouted the way, though they didn’t venture far from the group.
So, he was more than a little surprised when something managed to bypass the scouts and hit at the center of the formation. A scream erupted from Forta’s mouth as blood misted into the air. Marus turned to see a horrified, wide-eyed expression plastered on her face as she held up the ragged stump where her lower arm had once been.
He barely caught sight of a shimmer in the air, which elicited a shout, “It’s using stealth!”
One of the other mages raised his staff, muttering something under his breath before white light arced out from his position. It kept going for a few dozen feet, illuminating the concealed assailant.
It was a mid-sized dog, grey-coated and entirely harmless-looking.
It darted silently away, disappearing into the brush as it outpaced the mage’s anti-concealment spell.
“Collapse!” Marus ordered. “Formation three!”
He rushed forward, but the subtle sound of a footfall sent him sprawling across the loamy turf. He rolled away before something hit his former position hard enough to send a cloud of dirt and leaves into the air. Marus found his feet a second later, only to see a much larger dog – with black and tan markings – climbing free of a three-foot-deep crater.
And it wasn’t alone.
Two others stalked around the crater. One bore similar markings to the first, though the other was much shaggier, with a reddish coat.
All three shimmered with enough power to give him pause.
Marus backed away as a trio of growls filled the air. They advanced. And recognizing the situation for what it was, he used Rapid Concealment. It was just in time, too. Because even as he shifted away, a black shape flashed down from the sky. A blur of feathers filled his vision, only a few inches away, before a crow hit the ground in a dive. It paused for only long enough to let out a caw before launching itself back into the air.
By that point, the dogs had turned their focus to the formation.
Marus stepped back, continuing to put distance between himself and the coming battle. At first, it was so he could position himself for a debilitating strike that might turn the tide. However, when more dogs showed up, he realized that retreat was in order.
He’d always intended to abandon his people. That was just how it had to be. But it seemed their separation would come sooner rather than later.
The dogs attacked, and to Marus’ shock, they actually used abilities like any other combatant.
Of course, the mercenaries all fought back. They weren’t exactly the best of the best, but Cornelius hadn’t brought any weaklings with him. Still, the dogs engaged with brutal efficiency that suggested they’d been hunting together all their lives. What’s more, they moved with such speed and grace that Marus began to question his own senses.
They weren’t demi-gods. Far from it. And yet, they had power on par with anyone in that group. That, coupled with their ability to coordinate, meant that the battle’s outcome was already decided.
Marus saw that before another blow was struck, and even as the sound of barking dogs and activated spells reached his ears, he was sprinting through the forest.
Not to escape the island.
No – he’d come for a reason, and he refused to leave until he’d satisfied his goal. Instead, he made for the center of the landmass, where the ethera felt thicker than anywhere else. If there was anything worthwhile in the grove, that was where it would be found.
He was so focused on the situation that he didn’t even see the rough hand before it latched onto his throat with an iron-like grip. Marus’ lower half kept going, his short legs flying out from under him even as his neck came to a sudden stop.
He gagged, his eyes bulging as his fingers clambered for purchase on his daggers. He found their hilts just in time to catch sight of his attacker.
It was a man.
Short for a human, swarthy, and a bit dirty, he looked wild in a way that Marus had rarely seen. He was also armed with a bone-handled hatchet, the blade of which was rapidly descending.
Marus regained his wits, using Slip Away to slither free of the man’s grip. The blade hissed as it passed within an inch of Marus’ skull. Then, his feet hit the ground, and he backed away. Another dagger appeared in his hand as the man pulled a second hatchet from his belt.
“You should not have come here,” he said in an oddly accented voice.
“Yeah. Beginning to realize that,” Marus admitted, readying himself for battle. “Could probably say the same to you. Maybe sit this one out, kid. I’ll go my way, and you go yours.”
“No.”
“You had your chance to win this one. It’s gone now,” Marus said. Now that he was aware of the enemy, there was no way he would fall. Not with decades of combat under his belt. “Just step aside, and you won’t get hurt.”
The man cocked his head to the side. “You are wrong to think I’m the one you should worry about.”
“You’re the one with the axes,” Marus said, still crouched and ready for anything.
“You should be worried about him.”
“Him?”
The man gestured behind Marus.
“You think I’m going to fall for that?”
“Do it, Escobar.”
Marus had just enough time to register a blistering heat that reminded him of an active volcano before overwhelming agony enveloped him. It was so potent that he couldn’t even react. Instead, he just collapsed as his skin crackled, and his flesh melted. Though he did maintain awareness long enough to look up and see a tiny dog with bulging eyes staring down on him from where it stood perched on footsteps of fire.
And then, everything went dark.