Vraxious -Whispering Grotto
The Spriggan continued clawing its way from Vrax’s armor, roughly heaving itself clear with a sound like snapping wood. It tumbled straight into the cabin filled with panicked goblins a single second before the closest goblin ruptured in a shower of gore. The Spriggan made a noise far too similar to a giggle as it looked at the next stage of the Vein Diver Assassin standing next to it.
The vascular humanoid form composed of dripping transparent vines had shifted again. This time it was layered and twisted on top of itself. Its head and hands were far more defined and starting to gain bladed protrusions. That's right, everyone you kill makes you stronger. If you get everyone in this room, I bet you will be a nightmare.
The Vein diver and Spriggan launched into motion at the same time, much to Vrax’s annoyance. “Get back here, you little shit!” Vrax shouted, rushing after the Spriggan; it had chosen to totter at a goblin wearing some very stolen-looking battle robes and waving around what looked dangerously like a wand. A bolt of violent lightning shot from the inexpertly wielded wand; it carved a divot straight through the floor between Vrax and the Spriggan. Oh hell no!
Vrax pushed past the Spriggan far enough to close the gap with the goblin before it could cast again; he threw a smite with his offhand, liquefying the goblin's arm. In the same motion, Vrax extended the spear by the very end of the haft, sinking it into the goblin's eye and out the back of its skull. The Spriggan stopped and angrily warbled at Vrax, waving its arms in displeasure before turning towards the next living goblin and tottering in that direction.
Dammit, you shit! Vrax turned around to give chase. Most of the goblins were busy with the assassin marauding into the crowd, but the few stragglers on this side of the room were still absolutely a threat to the waist-high hangry murder tree. Vrax charged past the Spriggan and kicked out hard into the side of the first goblin's leg. There was the snap of bone, and Vrax grabbed the goblin by the head and heaved it back towards the Spriggan; it landed right in front of it in a heap. There, that should keep you busy for a damn second.
Vrax narrowly avoided a point-blank arrow from the next goblin, ducking under the projectile as he stepped in close enough to press his palm against its chest. The swirling mana in his hand punched out through it and lashed into the two tightly packed goblins just behind it. The first goblin fell instantly; the other two writhed on the floor, missing some very important pieces.
Vrax looked back as the Spriggan dived straight onto the goblin with a broken leg, starting to brutally scoop chunks from its still-alive prey with its clawed hands. The goblin landed a few glancing blows with a dagger, but they weren’t much of a real threat. lil guys got that one just fine. The assassins ahead detonated once more in clouds of gore, building their frames up and plunging forward into the nearest goblins.
Vrax settled defensively between the dwindling goblins and the Spriggan to make sure the vein divers were working as intended. This time when another goblin exploded, the abomination that rose from its gore was something from a nightmare. An amalgamation of humanoid-shaped vines woven together into a monstrosity that nearly touched the ceiling with its newly born cluster of heads and fangs perched unevenly atop the rest of the writhing mass.
It stopped going for one goblin at a time and even forcibly assimilated the smaller vein diver to its side. Thousands of vines with fine pointed tips shot out from every one of its thousands of twitching limbs. They looped into and around bone and organs before yanking the screeching prey back to the writhing, vaguely humanoid mass. It suffered dozens of wounds from blades and a smattering of stolen magic. An especially enterprising goblin exploded just as it was pulled within the mass, sending a spray of transparent vines across the room.
It wasn’t enough; every kill it made, every body it consumed for fuel, added to the mass faster than the dwindling foes were able to harm it. By the time there were only three huddled goblins in the far corner trying to climb into the still-lit fireplace for a chance at escape, the vein diver had turned into a constantly shifting, writhing ball of hunger that encompassed nearly half of the room.
Hooolllyy shit…... I really, really fucking hope when I adapted that I didn’t miss anything that would let it reproduce… Also, I need to change the fucking name… The Vein Diver assassin abruptly reeled the last three goblins into its mass and then began shoving itself out the nearest window, already pulsing in beat with the pulse of its next prey.
A warcry that could have been the roar of a dragon suddenly shook the fort. Almost instantly followed by very fast-moving laughter and a catastrophic crashing sound that shook the ground slightly. “Torvald Bearsbane! Learn the name, spread the legend!” Mirthfully echoed throughout the camp from somewhere outside, far louder than should have been possible without magic. Did that boisterous fuck seriously give himself magically enchanted speech… Ehh, whatever, I need to get to the barracks right now and see if I can end that boss while it's busy wondering what god it pissed off to deserve Torvalds's attention.
But what do I do with you...? Vrax looked at the Spriggan and frowned before running up and trying to add it to his garden. There was a brief flare of mana followed by the Spriggan growling at him in a creaking tone. But it stayed right where it was, elbow-deep in the screaming goblin. Fine, I guess I'll just leave you a babysitter then.
Vrax stepped back onto the porch and snuffed out the light in a vast circle around the cabin. Bubbling black rot spread from his presence like the god of death himself had descended as he summoned some of his beloved creations to the fight. Devourers rose from the puddles of darkness next to him, cooing sweetly for just a moment before the overwhelming stench of blood triggered their transformation.
Vrax pushed one of them into the room with the feasting child. “Babysit the little monster!” The other Devourer he looped a rope around and towed behind himself like a demented balloon, careful to avoid the flailing tentacles. Vrax ran full speed across the soft, gently glowing carpet of moss, only slowing to weave around the bloodstained, shattered remains of indistinguishable creatures.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
Ahead he heard Torvald boom out another challenge, followed by a short shriek and a goblin sailing impressively high in the air. The goblin flew from somewhere at the front of the camp and came to an abrupt, splattered end somewhere behind him. The Barracks loomed directly in front of Vrax; an open doorway guarded by a pair of shifty-looking goblins was lit invitingly. Vrax smiled and pushed the Devourer in their general direction. It didn’t need any encouragement, zipping through the air with the rope trailing madly behind.
Vrax followed as fast as he could, quickly being outpaced as the fuzzy ball of flailing feeding tentacles hit the two lookouts at impressive speed, and all three of them carried into the barracks in a shower of wooden fragments and snapping bone. Vrax slipped in after them, ignoring the whirs of goblins being blended and sucked through feeding tubes. He used the shock and awe mixed with the settling dust to dart through the first room, skirting past a pair of goblins and straight into the main barracks room. It was a short, wide affair; beds and tables had been cleared to the sides and placed over the few windows and doors. Leaving only small arrow slits and viewports facing the front of the building. It looked like he came in the only actual entrance. Standing just below the slightly caved-in roof in a streamer of pale light was obviously the boss.
[Hobgoblin Tamer Tier-1](lvl43)[Threat: High]. It was a lanky creature, like someone had taken a cave goblin and stretched it out. It was fully covered in a mishmash of stolen gear, from a paladin of Rembrand breastplate, to a potion bandoleer that glimmered disconcertingly in the low light. It carried a fantastical-looking crossbow that held its bolts floating in the air in a circle around a cluster of humming runes where normally the bow arms would go. Currently it was cursing violently in a guttural language as it watched the vein diver spiral across the fort yard like a demented fleshy tumbleweed.
Wait...tamer... What the fuck? Then what was dusting the daisies? Vrax crept under the shadows of a table near the wall to scan the room; he had missed something. Three piles of weapons and armor were the only thing in the room that wasn’t pushed against a wall other than a throne-like chair that seemed to be grown and woven together from trees rather than built. It looked incredibly out of place among the filthy weapons and bloodstains. Other than that, only remains of food and a long-dead campfire dotted the floor. Most of his forces must have already been engaging the attackers.
The hobgoblin hissed in amusement and looked out the window with renewed interest. To Vrax’s horror, even from here he could see the vein divers’ unassailable assault faltering. Clumps of dirt were starting to stick to it and change its myriad of limbs to stone. Oh...fuck…he has his own version of duchess, doesn’t he? Some bullshit tamed beastie that is way too dangerous for its level... The vein divers' mad rolling came to an end as it scattered in small fragments of stone across the ground outside.
Fuck, I should do this before his pet gets back! Vrax painstakingly crept forward straight for the back of the boss. Thankfully Torvald was laying into some poor building nearby, and his few missteps couldn’t be heard over the screaming and thuds of hammer on flesh. The moment Vrax was in range, he lunged with both hands and poured mana into a smite aimed right for the base of the boss's neck. The spear wreathed in miasma hit the boss’s spine dead on and stopped abruptly. His stolen armor was burning with an orange power as its enchantments held against Vrax’s smite. Fuck!
Vrax pushed harder, draining more and more mana as the boss whirled in surprise, already firing off shots. Vrax didn't let him make room, tackling him to the ground beneath his spear tip. The armor finally failed, and the spear jammed into the beast's shoulder sickeningly, starting to rot away at bone and cartilage. Damn! His resistances are fucking high. Two crossbow bolts ripped Vrax straight off the top of the boss, digging brutally into the meat of his chest. His armor slagged a few chairs and slowed them enough not to pierce his heart, but it still penetrated scarily deep into muscles, probably ruining some of his range of motion.
Vrax poured life out around himself from his cistern in a spiraling pattern; moss suddenly burst up walls and across the floor, lighting the dim room vividly. The Boss stumbled to his feet, more bolts apparating into the air next to his crossbow. He fired two that were deflected by Vrax’s armor and then made a grand sweeping gesture accompanied by the flash of mana.
A squat reptile with six legs, a stubby tail, and a wide pointed head suddenly snapped into existence between Vrax and the Hobgoblin. Eyes ran the length of its spined body, and every bit of dirt and grime nearby began ominously floating around in the air. [Earthmaker Basilisk Tier-1](lvl50) [Threat: Extreme]. Oh fuck that! Vrax Rushed behind the nearest table as bolts zinged past his fleeing form and clumps of stone and dirt began forming in the air from the floating motes of dust. The second he slammed into cover, Vrax activated his stigmata garden, plunging the room once again into darkness before immediately pouring his cistern out once again and bringing the moss back on ontop of burbling rot. His creations rose as the room brightened again. Sunshine dead center, a mere stride from the very dangerous basilisk.
Behind it a mangler tree stared down at the hobgoblin within arm's reach. He went to run but found himself ensnared by sharp wires that skittered around his legs as retrievers flung themselves from a colony Vrax had summoned in the darkest nearby corner. Get fucked, man. I am not about to fight a fucking basilisk face-to-face.
Sunshine tore into the basilisk before it could even react, tendril maws scooping out eyes and stabbing into the soft flesh of its belly. The basilisk flailed violently in the air held overhead by sunshine. Clumps of magically crafted dirt whizzed through the air, most missing Sunshine in the basilisk’s disorientation. A few latched onto sunshine and broke off hunks of petals and a swath of tendrils. A large mass caught the rightmost of Sunshine’s roots, crumbling them into speckled dust and sending Sunshine tumbling.
It didn’t matter; the basilisk was still held aloft, being eaten alive bite by bite, twisted hungrily in Sunshine’s grasp. Suddenly there was a horrific snap, and the Basilisk was bent in half right in the middle. The clods of dirt and stone fell to the ground instantly. Sunshine shoved the limp reptile into its maw and raised its false eyes towards the hobgoblin.
Vrax, Sunshine, and most of the room were suddenly sprayed in bits of boss monster as the Mangler got ahold of the trapped boss. Vrax wiped an eyeball and part of an ear from his armor. Well…that wasn’t exactly fun… “Alright, who wants to go clear the way back to the spoiled child with me?” Vrax asked his creations. Sunshine suddenly threw itself bodily through one of the barricaded windows at a fleeing goblin that had the worst luck in the world.
“No one? Yeah, figured...” Vrax grumbled as he turned around to go retrieve the wayward Spriggan. Between His party and his monsters running around, he was pretty sure this fight was solidly over.
