novelzi 117- The Last Straw
117- The Last Straw
Vraxious—The Forsaken Lands
Gobbles clucked ominously as it crept through the alleyway towards its victim. Vrax watched from above, lying prone on a rooftop, his fist tight in anticipation of his abomination's attack.
Red was cursing quietly at the end of the alley; he had chosen one of the largest abandoned houses near the Grove square, and he was trying to dust his porch off with a broom he had found somewhere. But the broom looked dirtier than the stone porch did.
The house itself was two stories and probably at one point an inn of some kind based on its odd layout and wide doors. Vrax was betting Red had just picked that one because it had the highest concentration of ancient liquor bottles in the area.
Gobbles let out a quiet Bwak..bwak...... As he felt his way down the alley, peeking out towards Red, his hands grasped onto the corner of the alley itself. Red frowned and turned towards the noise, broom in hand.
He beheld Gobbles in all its glory, a half dozen uneven arms clutched onto the wall, its head cocked curiously as it stared at him dully. Gobbles’s maw clacked open sideways, and a pair of grasping hands ran along the edges of its beak like a nightmarish tongue.
Red’s features flashed between horror and anger and then solidly into resignation. He slowly held out his broom and just dropped it with a clatter on the ground. He stared down gobbles before holding up a single finger in a ‘wait a moment’ gesture. He fished around in his pockets before pulling out a small flask and utterly chugging the contents.
He threw it onto the ground, dramatically flipped off the general direction of the gods, and then drew his sword. “You know whatever the fuck you are. I was starting to think this might not be so bad after all. That even though I am in the middle of fucking nowhere surrounded by utterly insane plants and a king that seems to want to kill himself in the most spectacularly stupid fashion he can manage. Even after all that, surrounded by these utter tree-fucking, death-chasing, titless IDIOTS. I still was starting to have hope.”
Red took a deep breath, and Gobbles let out a confused, slightly scared “Cluck?”
“But you, you are one hundred percent the final straw. You are proof to me that the gods definitely gave up on us. Like, what even? My nightmares aren’t capable of conjuring this...so what...” Red visibly choked up for a second.
“Bah!...If you want to come try and have a fucking nibble, you goddamned inside-out asshole of a chicken, then just fucking try, and I’ll have some shitty unseasoned drumsticks along with my spiraling drinking problem for dinner. Otherwise, FUCK OFF and let me sweep my goddamned floor!” Red sheathed his blade and angrily plucked the broom from the ground before stalking back into his house and slamming the swinging door shut behind himself.
That was apparently the last straw for the ancient door too because it clattered onto the ground a second later, having broken clean off the hinges. Red stared at it in disbelief, then at Gobbles, then at the door.
Gobbles fled back down the alley when fire started pouring from Red's eyes and mouth; he slowly drew his sword again. It burst into blinding, searing, pure crimson flames that crackled, heating the nearby stone red-hot.
Vrax pulled back into the room with a look of fear on his face. Alright, got it. Red is one bad day from killing us all. Damn, now I just feel bad; that one wasn’t even funny, just sad.
From below, Red shouted at the world around him, “There aren’t even any fucking women here!!!”
Ah yep, there it is. I feel less bad now. Let's go see how the other critters are settling in.
***
Vrax reclined about twenty strides from the ground in a small lounge of ever-thirst root that hung from the side of a tree overlooking the still-under-construction guild hall and gave him a good view of a large part of the town square over the mostly short, abandoned merchant buildings.
He was staring at malice in morbid fascination. Malice was perched on the side of his workshop, about two stories off the ground, arms spread wide, retrievers mooring him in place as he just...basked in the sun. He hadn’t moved in nearly an hour.
A bird was perched curiously above him, peeking down at the spectacle, an unwise choice. Malice didn’t budge an inch, apparently too busy photosynthesizing. The retrievers, however, had no such compunction. Skittering into the tubes along Malice's spine to get a good launch.
The bird didn’t see it coming, although it really should have. A pack of three retrievers sailed from Malice's body, each aimed in a slightly different trajectory to hem the world's boldest pigeon in. It got a single panicked coo out before one of the retrievers landed straight on its face and skittered in a short circle, wrapping the umbilicus around its neck. It tried to flutter away. All that did was instantly shred the poor thing; chunks of pigeon and feathers fell down to spatter against malice. He didn’t even seem to notice.
Man grafting him with a plant made him... weirdly chill... That shit can’t be normal behavior for threshers; he hasn’t moved in legitimately an hour. Hell, I don’t think he’s blinked either. Wait, does he even have eyelids? Huh.
A block or so from his perch, Vrax could hear the faint echoing melody of the Siren's call singing a wordless song. The notes trailed on impossibly long before melding into a hopeful trill that crashed back down to the haunting melody once again.
And trailing behind those unfathomable notes, a solitary violin could be heard screaming, In pursuit. Combative wails of an Edwards creation chased the melody of the siren's call. He seemed to be desperately trying to understand her music and be able to play an appropriate accompaniment.
He was getting closer, but for now it just sounded like two warring songs that occasionally crossed over into harmony. Vrax was glad that Edward was settling in, but he was more than a little worried about how well he was settling in. The man had gotten a taste of power and thrown himself after the rest.
He was obviously scared shitless half the time. And his solution to that seemed to be simply ignoring it and directly challenging every one of Vrax’s horrors he could. He would have been eaten instantly if he didn’t have a mark and Duchess acting like his damned bodyguard half the time.
Thinking about Duchess, Vrax slowly shifted in his nearly invisible perch, looking for her. Earlier she had been chasing the troll around the outskirts, but that seemed to get boring to her relatively quickly lately.
He heard a loud “Hungry!” Creak from lux somewhere in the nearby city. Vrax sighed deeply.
Nothing good ever happens every single time that little monster shouts that.
The mad noblewoman’s voice rolled forth from the same part of the city. “Oh, oh darling, how droll. Save me the drumsticks, please; those are just my favorite!” Duchess crowed before a trilling laugh spilled ominously from her.
See exactly what I mean! What the fuck are the Spriggan and the fear dragon doing playing together unattended? I swear if they have some poor fucking Loggart strung up, I'm going to lose my shit.
Vrax rolled from his perch, letting himself drop for several seconds before landing in a gentle roll within a patch of rainbow-hued moss that rose up almost like a net to perfectly slow his landing. He sprinted from his landing, armor searing to life and wrapping around him. He aimed straight towards the now rather loud sounds of some kind of scuffle.
He rounded a building's edge, spear in hand, and glided under a curtain of roots from a faintly twitching thicket that had grown straight into and through the side of an ancient awning. He crouched right at the edge of the plants and pushed them slightly aside to see what the hell his monsters were doing.
Duchess was draped over the edge of a ruined storefront like a damned dragon, her head hanging a stride from the ground. Intently watching as Lux chased a furtive figure around the overgrown chunks of rubble strewn all throughout the street here.
It was hard to make out at first, as the bushes and lush jungle grass coating every inch of this street came nearly waist-high on Vrax and all the way up to Lux’s chest, but finally the figure clambered onto a piece of rubble in the center of the road, waving a sword around defensively towards Lux.
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The man looked fucking rough; a tattered cloak with the symbol of a bowing man had mostly given up hanging from one shoulder. His golden-tinged chainmail was ripped open on the right side, and even his sword had a slight bend to it.
Did those assholes send even more scouts, or has this fucker somehow survived here since the big battle? I mean, with some food and gumption, he could have hidden in one of the buildings for quite a while.
Vrax used predator's gaze just to make damned sure Lux and Duchess weren’t hunting some poor random adventurer who hadn’t seen the utter plethora of stay out, warning, and imminent death signs Vrax had been adapting all over the city. And honestly, if someone missed those, he wasn’t sure how the fuck they would have survived in the Forsaken Lands long enough to even get to his capitol.
[Hilbrand Thadius Tier-1](Lvl 29) [Warrior of Rembrand]
Oh nope, just another golden dick-sucking asshole. Proceed with the wanton violence, children!
Duchess was overlooking the clumsy brawl between the half-dead warrior and the inexperienced Spriggan like an evil instructor. “Darling, strike when he’s weak; don’t let him catch his breath!” The noble woman's voice echoed out, sounding almost exasperated.
The ragged warrior swung his sword in a sharp arc down towards Lux. Mana swirled around him, and a nearby chunk of rubble flew towards the Spriggan. At the last second Lux let out an angry creak and stuck his claws forward; the grass at his feet knotted and rose explosively like a shield, catching the stone. It didn’t stop all the momentum; the shield of grass swung back and sent the Spriggan sprawling.
Vrax stopped himself from intervening. He knew that Lux needed the real-world practice to survive. He would step in if he had to. Although considering Duchess was bizarrely playing evil babysitter, he really didn’t think he would have to.
The warrior adjusted his footing on the slick rubble he precariously perched on and screamed towards Lux, who looked angry as all hell as he pulled himself to his feet and adjusted his little red knitted scarf. “Get back, hellspawn! This is Rembrand’s domain now! We will burn every single one of you foul things to the bone!”
Vrax jumped as his armor angrily ignited into dim green flames at the mention of Rembrand. Gods, Vurune, fucking calm yourself; they have got this... I hope.
Duchess flickered her tongue in the air in amusement as Lux charged again. One of the tongues snapped out just far enough to clip the man’s shoulder, sending him tumbling back down into the grass.
A single dandelion seed fluttered through the nearby sky down from the nearly omnipresent haze of them over the city. The warrior backpedaled as fast as he could away from it and the charging Spriggan, but the vein diver coasted faster and faster through the air towards the man.
He tried to bat its tiny glowing form from the air as it came within reach. It slid past his panicked swing and drifted to an abrupt stop beside his head. He tried to whirl and face it, but it was too late; the single seed disappeared into his ear with a slight slicing sound.
The warrior screamed, clawing at his face as the vein diver began a lazy, painful journey through his blood. The man was a tough bastard, though, both his stats and his character, he squared back up against Lux even with the glowing dot slowly trailing around beneath his skin. His face gritted in agony. He was suffering terribly, but he wasn’t out of the fight at all yet.
Damn, how high are his resistances?
Vrax’s eyes widened when Lux suddenly stopped his charge and began gathering a shocking amount of mana around himself. Lux gestured violently with a clawed hand grasping towards the warrior and then twisting the claw. Vibrant green flashes of mana traced from the tips of his claws and disappeared into the air. Nothing visible happened for a moment. The warrior snorted in disgust at the apparent miscast before leaping towards Lux.
He sailed for one stride, then another, his impressive strength carrying him in a deadly arc, weapon cocked back over his shoulder for a devastating downwards blow. He careened downwards, and Lux just stepped to the side with an amused giggle. His blow never fell; the warrior landed in a heap. His limbs locked up from the inside.
He painstakingly tried to stand, his skin pulling unnaturally taut from the inside at his every movement as something glowing beneath his skin wriggled.
Vrax leaned forward in fascination, trying to understand what the hell was happening. The man’s movements were horribly stilted and short. The determination had completely given way to panic.
Lux stepped forward as the man's entire body began to glow so brightly from the inside it highlighted his bones beneath the flesh. Then flesh finally pushed too taut from the inside ripped all across his body, flensing most of his torso’s skin horrifically. A waving, bladed abomination that was once a vein diver was now visible, the size of a man, twisted and squirming, wrapped around his bones. Eagerly feasting on the bit of blood that was left.
Did that little fucking psycho just make a giant vein diver inside that poor motherfucker!? Holy shit! How? What kind of bullshit Spriggan power is that?
Lux descended on his still twitching prey with a creaking victory chant and started stuffing hunks of the man into his slitted mouth. He batted angrily at the vein diver when one of its bladed legs tried to wrap around a piece of meat he was also reaching for. “Mine!” Lux wrathfully screeched at the vein diver.
Duchess had her head cocked in apparent shock. Neck slightly pulled back like even she hadn’t expected that. She shook her head and slid down off the edge of the building, shuffling towards the feast. “I called a drumstick!”
Vrax managed to close his slack jaw and just slowly turned around to head back to the city and pretend he hadn’t seen any of that.
Let's just go check on Jonathan... Yeah... that should be calmer... He was doing something over at the old greenhouse the last couple days.
***
Vrax was glad someone was using the greenhouse; he hadn’t even been in it since he killed the random undead horror that was lurking in its basement. Jonathan had been a busy, slightly murder-happy bee.
For some reason the Mangler trees had been congregating off to the side of the greenhouse, and a trio of them loomed like a deadly lawn ornaments arrayed on top of a small pile of corpses.
He watched as Jonathan walked up and reached under a Mangler tree to retrieve what looked like a chunk of squirrel. The mangler's eye snapped open, and it reached towards him aggressively, trying to ward him away.
Jonathan looked unimpressed. “Oh shut the fuck up; we both know I could kill you if it came down to it. Now simmer the fuck down and keep brewing fertilizer. I’ll water you in a couple hours when I’m done with the others.” The tree made a discontented rattling sound with its branches, but the single horrifying eye snapped shut with a thunk. And it rocked slightly side to side, settling its roots back into the pile of dead.
Jonathan noticed Vrax and waved towards him with the handful of squirrel bits. “Hey boss!”
Vrax walked over and followed Jonathan into the greenhouse while they conversed. “Hey, uh, so how are you settling in, this being your first time in the Forsaken Lands and all?”
Jonathan paused, really thinking over the question while leaning against a slightly rickety shelf. “Honestly not as bad as I was expecting; I really thought everything we ran into was going to be like your critters or worse. But that just isn't the case. The air’s good, the soil’s better, and there’s a fucking tree. Five strides that way makes the best fruit I've ever tried in my life. I do have to kill the fruit before I eat it, but that’s not that big of a deal. Deadly sure, but a lot more pretty overall than I was picturing.”
“Oh fuck...I forgot about those orange trees I made.”
Jonathan laughed. “That’s an orange tree?”
“Not anymore, I guess.” Vrax gestured towards the greenhouse floor.
Jonathan had cleaned it up dramatically in here; the panes of glass that were broken he had simply removed, creating a bit of an open-walled effect to the far side of the greenhouse. Where it looked like the spiders had started in on building him a cozy little cottage framework. It was oddly skeletal, though. Just a framework of solid stone, no walls or roof.
The actual greenhouse he had emptied save for the shelves and the somehow still standing stone planter boxes. There were ten of them, and each had a single different weapon sticking from the soil. Jonathan Jr. was the most robust-looking of them; its hilt had unravelled into roots that sunk deep into the very rich-looking moist soil.
Vrax looked in confusion around the eclectic collection of weapons. There were a few halberds; one looked like it was woven from sunflowers dotted with piercing green eyes. Another was a glittering, pulsing collection of blue fibers that noticeably shivered.
“What...whatcha doing?” Vrax cautiously asked; he still didn’t really know what the hell Jonathan’s class did, especially since we would have gained another skill.
Jonathan pointed to the halberds. “Well, those are for me. If I can awaken a few more, I will have even more Jonathan Jrs. running around with me when I fight. It takes quite a while and a lot of personal use to do that, though. Really got to raise them right.”
He pointed towards a single Warhammer that looked like it was hewn from bleeding wood. Its jagged shaft was filled with holes that wept a crimson sap. ”That’s for the world’s loudest angel if I can iron out the kinks.”
“And this one...is for our fearless leader.” Jonathan walked over to a pot that was slightly separate from the other growing weapons and pulled aside a small curtain. A single spear jutted violently from the soil.
It was a slightly transparent white with smudges of violently dark green swirling up the smooth haft. The inside of the spear was noticeably hollow, and the tip had a bevel opening that led into the empty space within the unreal-looking weapon. The tip itself came to an uneven but wickedly sharp syringe-like tip.
Vrax cautiously reached down and knelt to inspect it. He peered down the hollow piercing tip of the spear. There were nearly invisible hairs, hundreds of thousands of them, writhing inside. “Jonathan...this is fucking awesome, but...like, what the hell does it do?”
Jonathan gave an uncharacteristically cruel smile that was a mirror to the one Vrax got when he used Adapt Life. “Well, since you’re a bit shit at melee fighting and you can’t just smite everything... I figured, why not give you an easy way to just insert... a few of your horrors with every stab?” He pointed to the hollow area in the handle and then ran his finger all the way to the tip.
“Make yourself a person blending abomination. Stick them in here and well” He flicked the open tip. “Apply to bad guys’ guts. And since I made it, it should be pretty damn tough.”
Vrax’s face bounced back and forth between thankfulness and horror, then thoughtfulness. “Jonathan, this is really messed up, but very, very practical...thank you, I love it!”
Jonathan nodded, a sagely smile on his face, as he grabbed a watering can. “Mhhm, I knew you would! Now go hunt yourself some massive abomination to complete your trial. And don’t fucking die! I don’t know if I get to keep this class if you die!”