Hello beautiful people.
Armour: Victide Armour (Ranger)
Weapon: [UNUSABLE]Mandible Bow (Jester Arrows); Arkhalis
Acc(11/11): Band of Regeneration, Amidas Spark, Sailfish Boots, Luxor's Gift, Ocean Crest, Counter Scarf, Crown Jewel, Tsunami in a Bottle, Frog Leg, Aero Stone, Shield of the Ocean
Health: (375/400)
She was too tired to be angry.
That Bitch really shouldn't have just tossed her in the grass like that, but she didn't have the energy to throw a tantrum about it. At least he had carried her home. That was more courtesy than she was used to.
And besides...
It appeared that her house had been put in order whilst she was unconscious.
The floors had been swept and scrubbed. Every surface had been dusted and wiped down. Everything broken had been replaced. Everything worn had been made new. As she slowly trudged her way through the living room, she was quite struck with just how luxurious these accommodations were. She hadn't noticed them while fighting - one never admired the carpets whilst cringing in a foxhole, but now - she looked about with wonder.
Was there an army of maids hidden here?
Deep plush carpets covered the floor. Sweeping curtains framed the windows - their lengths trimmed to the millimeter. Perfectly upholstered leather sofas were placed at right angles to each other, tastefully surrounding the warm, roaring fireplace. A lovely chandelier hung from the ceiling. It sparkled as if made of pure gold. The attached kitchen looked to be freshy installed. There was a large bowl on the kitchen table and a pile of fruit had been arranged there. The sight made her stomach rumble. The Party Girl hurried over and snatched an apple from the pile. She bit into it greedily, relishing the burst of sweetness on her tongue.
Urmmm... that's amazing...
Maybe she wasn't so angry after all. She... hardly ever had an opportunity to spoil herself anyways. She was always running from one mission to the next. If she wasn't on mission, she was on standby in the dreary CC barracks and drinking herself unconscious every night at the local seedy bar. She primarily drank whatever toxic concoction would get her drunk the fastest, but perhaps today she'd have something much tastier. An entire keg of ale was beckoning to her from the countertop. Even though she was quite the booze fiend, she doubted she'd be able to finish it even if she went at it all day. It might as well be an unlimited tap! She walked over to it and bent down to drink directly from the spigot before stopping herself.
Tch - okay... no, treat your wounds first...
She mustn't get too excited.
She was still on mission.
This mission had five star room service, but that didn't change anything. She had requested permission from lord Yharim to come to this area and investigate the strange phenomenon here. She had discovered Amidas had returned. She had also discovered a means by which she could catch him! The Experiment had the nose of a dog, and had promised to track down Amidas for her if she helped him find his arm... (in reality, she had agreed to find his arm in exchange for her own life - but The Experiment wasn't that bright so he probably wouldn't notice this sudden change in terms).
And so, she was in prime position to find The Sea King, cut off his head, bring it to lord Yharim, and secure a promotion. The only thing holding her back were her injuries. Getting drunk would be nice, but it was far more important that she down as many healing potions as possible in order that she was fit for travel come morning. Her natural healing had begun on her worst injuries already, but she was still quite uncomfortable. Earlier, The Experiment had spilled a thousand bottles of healing potion all over the living room. Most likely, the invisible maids would have collected and arranged them in the cupboard upstairs.
... haah
With much difficulty, she let got of The Ale Keg's spigot and turned towards the stairwell. She looked at it forlornly as she ascended to the second floor - promising herself she'd have her fill of it tomorrow.
He was an adorable little thing, standing there all cross eyed - not knowing where to look. He didn't seem to know exactly what to say, nor did he seem particularity bothered by the silence. When he had wandered into the little domain she had taken for herself (the large stone castle with stained glass windows and a deep pool of perpetually fresh water) she had given up her 'human-shaped' form for her natural sprawling one. It was certainly more comfortable for her, and she was able to stretch her tendrils and roots all across the interior of the building to more effectively produce her purification powder.
Hm... not enough sunlight... I'm unsure how much I'll be able to make here...
Thankfully, her current visitor - unlike The Merchant and The Guide - didn't seem particularly bothered by her appearance. He had walked in and just stared at different parts of her in turn until she addressed him. He did seem a bit startled that a mass of trees and vines were speaking to him, but accepted the oddity easily.
"Hello there, darling. What can I do for you?"
"...you are The Dryad."
She twittered an affirmative and generated a mass of iridescent insectoid eyes to more closely examine him. How curious! He was certainly human-shaped, but his essence was entirely different. He looked harmless and unassuming, but there was a pit in him. Something monstrous was packed into that tiny little body... something she was sure she'd encountered before. The Dryad extended a tendril and poked at him a few times in a attempt to more accurately gauge him (he swatted at her tendrils) - but alas, her memory was failing her. After a while, she withdrew and answered him.
"I am The Dryad indeed, my Dear - and who might you be?"
He stared at her flatly and didn't answer her. Instead, he pulled a severed arm from beneath his cloak and held it out into the air, proffering it to her. She waited for a moment to see if he would preface his actions with an explanation. When he didn't, she reached down with one of her many vines and took hold of it, lifting it into the air to stare at it with her many insect eyes.
She croaked like a frog.
"Hm? What's this now. Is this for me?"
The little creature shook his head.
"The Guide said you can fix it."
"Fix it?"
The Dryad twisted it around and sniffed it. Ah, the same rotting spell that The Guide had suffered under was also effecting this severed limb! And -strangely- like The Blessed One, This arm had likewise not disintegrated into a mass of rotting flesh. In fact, it seemed to be healing at the same rate the curse ate away at it! How Curious! Did The Arm also carry the Dryad's blessing within it? No... perhaps it just had an inherent monstrous regeneration? Well... in any case, she was sure she'd discover the truth sooner or later. Things weren't urgent, and she had lived far too long to have an impatient personality.
She lowered The Arm, handing it back to The man-shaped creature - who received it with visible disappointment. She spoke in cricket's chirps.
"I can certainly lift the spell, but not quite at this moment... I've been draining my power to make a purification solution. See?"
She lifted one of her many leaves to show him. Beads of pure 'life energy' pooled like dew there. She had set herself up here with the intention of pumping this power into the land - and thereby cleansing it of The Crimson, but alas the earth was spoiled and the sun was shrouded in smog. Had she been in her old home - in the lush jungles to the west - the wouldn't be an issue at all! She'd simply raise her leaves above the canopies to drink in the sunshine and sink her roots deep into the soil to sap the subterranean wells, and in an instant - she could spill Nature's power into the area around her, revitalizing it. This was the purpose of The Dryads. They were protectors of Nature, yet they also drew their strength from it.
But the state of The Compound was so utterly unnatural, that The Dryad could produce almost nothing from the sun and the soil. She had only her reserves to run on... and that wouldn't even be enough to finish the lawn - much less the entire Crimson Border. She figured that she might as well try anyways though. Perhaps the sun would shine more strongly one of these days, or the soil deep underground was still clean and untouched...
Well... It's quite a job...
She didn't disclose any of this to The Little Creature, though. He didn't seem like he'd understand, nor did he appear particularly interested. He reached out and poked at one of the dewdrops, clumsily breaking the surface tension and spilling the the energy into the air. The Dryad wasn't upset. She emitted an amused owl's hoot and withdrew her leaves, patting him on the head with one of her many tendrils as she did so. He seemed quite upset that she'd flattened his feathered plume, and immediately began tending to it. She found his distress amusing.
"Well then, my dear. Run along now. Come back later and I'll see if I have enough power to fix your arm."
"..."
He didn't budge. He seemed to be thinking very carefully. The Dryad fought the urge to once again flatten his feathered plume as she patiently waited for him to collect his thoughts.
"...Dryad."
"Yes, Darling?"
"The liquid... can you make it powder."
"A powder?"
"Yes."
The Dryad twittered and rustled. She had never tried such a thing before, but only because she didn't imagine it'd be useful. Still - she would humor this little Man-Creature. He was amusing in his own strange sort of way and she did occasionally like company.
She extended a leaf and - with the slightest bit of effort, evaporated every bit of water off of it, leaving behind a clear blueish dust. With a dexterity not native to plants, she folded the leaf lengthwise and poured the powder into The Little Creature's hand, wondering what he'd do with it.
"..."
*crunch*
The Little Creature balled his fist, crushing the power and - strangely - it disappeared entirely! The Dryad rustled her leaves, disquieted by the strange sight of her vitality simply vanishing. Frankly, she also found it a bit rude. To destroy a gift in front of its giver was certainly quite an affront! She confronted him with the yowl of a cat and the chittering of bats.
"Little Creature - how dreadfully impolite of you!"
He didn't seem to hear her. He remained standing there in the midst of her branches with his single fist closed in front of him. A long moment elapsed then - he opened his hand.
...
And from that armoured palm, spilled the Purification powder... and not only the amount The Dryad had produced for him - but ten, a hundred, no, a thousand times more! It piled up on the ground as wide as the floor and as high as The Little Creature's knees - and what more, The Dryad felt power reverberating from it. It was her power, replicated endlessly and effortlessly. A power that would hem in The Crimson, reversing its dreadful effects on this good land. A power that could restore this place back to its former glory overnight!
What a good little creature he is!
The Dryad had no reservations about showing her delight. She chirped and sang and rustled and creaked, once more flattening The Almost-man's feathered plume (and eliciting from him the expected reaction). She drew near with her thousands of insects eyes and cooed at him, not at all offended when he stumbled back and shielded himself from her ministrations. For a brief moment, a sharp blade appeared in his hand - but it disappeared shortly afterwards. Had The Little Creature been instructed not to injure her? Was this the one what had slain The Wandering Eye? The Dryad wasn't sure, but regardless found it utterly adorable.
"Oh Darling! Come now, Come! Let's go!" She nudged him, prompting him out the door. When he resisted (clearly confused - the poor thing wasn't very bright) she gently wrapped a tree bough about his waist and carried him, flailing and terrified, out of the castle. She emerged from the small castle opening - crawling into the night like a sprawling building sized spider made of trees, mushrooms and shrubbery.
And so, in a single night (about half of which The Dryad spent carefully explaining her plan and intentions to The dull Little Creature) The strange duo scuttled back and forth across the horizon, covering the land in The Dryad's power - scattering the life giving dust haphazardly wherever they could.
In just a few hours they flushed out The Crimson. They restored the lush greenery native to these lands. Dead bushes were once again dressed in their flowering blooms. Withered trees were made whole and solid, running with sap and thrumming with vitality. The sour ground became rich and earthy. The skies cleared; the veil of clouds parted overhead - and the twinkling stars shone down upon them. The moon was bright and white, looming low and casting its pale light over them. The water began running once more, no longer stagnant and stinking - but pure and sweet to drink. The breeze gusted forth, stirring the air and renewing all that it touched. The stench of rotting flesh was banished so completely, The Dryad could scarcely remember it.
And come morning, The Dryad - as a token of gratitude - broke the spell on The Little Creature's severed arm, and courteously sewed it back on for him.
And this time, when she flattened his feathered plume, he didn't seem quite so upset about it.
He hated his brethren.
It was such a wrong thing to do, but he couldn't deny it. He hated them. He hated everything about them. They loved war, he despised it. They were crude and boorish, he regarded himself as fine-mannered and high minded. They had neither respect nor interest for his craft, and belittled him relentlessly for it. He was despised and rejected because he wasn't a stupid slobbering brute...
And he hated them all.
But what could he do? He couldn't leave. He couldn't integrate into another society! His skin was a deep bluish green, his ears were sharpened to a point. He was clearly and undoubtedly a goblin - and his race's savage reputation preceded all who laid eyes on him. It mattered not that he had a stern and bookish disposition, nor that he was well studied in the art of weapons and spellcrafting. Although he alone likely had the equivalent brainpower of the entire Goblin Detachment, here he was! Marching in the tail end of the squadron, loaded up with equipment like a pack animal.
The clang of weapons rattling against each other filled his ears. The dust of the earth caused him to cough and shudder, dirtying his magnifying goggles with mud and debris. The Goblin Tinkerer gritted his sharpened teeth and stared with hatred at the warriors walking ahead of him. These idiots didn't even know why they were fighting... they just wanted to fight. Didn't they realize their commander had been bribed to march them off to The Crimson Lands? Perhaps they were all on their way to an inevitable death!
But of course, they don't care. Tch!
An ill-bred and crass race of nearly monsters, barely sentient almost-persons that lived for nothing but violence and war. Troglodytes, the lot of them! How shameful he was of his lineage... perhaps it was better if they really did all get eaten by The Crimson!
The Goblin Tinkerer huffed as the thick ropes chafed against his skin. He was nigh tangled together with his luggage, and was certain it'd take him more than an hour to extricate himself from that mess. What a travesty... he belonged in a university, not a battlefield. In fact, the only reason he tolerated The Goblins at all (besides for the fact no other community would allow him entry) was they had yet to sent him off to battle.
The Tinkerer wasn't a fighter. He would be amongst the first to fall in an infantry... and an infantry marching off into The Crimson Lands? Nonsense. As the smell of gore grew more potent, the further The Tinkerer dropped back among his brethren. Soon, he'd be at the tail end of the pack... and soon, he'd pass by a grassy knoll, or a small cave to dive into a hide.
And hopefully, The Goblin Army wouldn't even notice.
Slayer: Dryad, your age is...
Dryad: How old am I?
Slayer: Yes.
Dryad: Oh dear, far older than you are. *counts* perhaps... A thousand fifty? Perhaps Sixty?
Slayer: So A Thousand Days... yes, much older than me.
Dryad: Days?
So Just trying to spend a chapter or two tying up some loose ends. I feel like this is the end of an arc or something - and it feels really good to give things a bit of closure and re-direction before beginning on the next adventure, which... I mean technically spoilers but its been so heavily forshadowed that not really - is Guide taking the two-armed Slayer out to kill Perfs & BoC, then to Dungeon. Also The Hero got introduced here, and I feel pretty happy with his development. Yall be spending more time with him as the story goes on. I hope you like him 3.
Btw The Sea King had sent a letter to the commander of the goblin army like a few chapters ago bribing him to go down to The Compound and killing everything there Because he knows his spell (the 'healing rune') got broken, and the only people who can break that is The Dryad. He pretty much wants to kill the Dryad.
But The Dryad is terrifying lmao. I live through her. I get to pat my babies on the heads. uwu... of course they hate it, but what can you do.