321. That was the number of tables Mark had gone through in his mad quest to replicate Skyrim's enchanting table.
He sourced them from the local woodworkers, even placing orders to the town down the river.
Mark didn't have much woodworking skill, and didn't want to dedicate his time to making a table when he could be farming souls and life energy in the forest.
However, he didn't want any unsavory rumors of strange symbols. So, he carved the symbols of magicka-conjuration, restoration, destruction, illusion, alteration-himself.
That was 52 tables down the drain given his poor artistic talent.
Then, he came across the problem of just what in the hell would make those symbols glow green, thus transforming the table into something magical.
He had turned to the obvious conclusion. Soul Gems. He would use Soul Gems to fuel this table, it only made sense that the fuel to create enchantments would be the same fuel that made the enchantment table magical.
And so he experimented. He ground down Soul Gems to dust, then formed a slurry with a combination of water and his mana.
The results had been…catastrophic.
The first table nearly destroyed his study, so he took the tests down to the castle's underground dungeon.
It wasn't large, but it sufficed.
For the last month since his transfiguration, he had spent countless hours in that dank, dark place. The sound of booms, and falling dust were his constant companions.
Thoroughly coated in the burnt remains of charcoal, and Soul Gem debris, Mark had survived numerous explosions.
One particular explosion was so severe, it crashed him against the wall like a tsunami.
321 tables later, and he was on his latest attempt. The last three experiments, he had Lilliana brew some potions. He had made a slurry with them. The result was a significantly reduced explosion each time. There was a verifiable improvement!
In fact, the simple stick he was attempting to enchant was a partial success at the cost of his table! The stick was enchanted, but the table blew up.
He was so close to sucess, he could almost taste it! Rings of invisibility, stunning guns/bows, life draining axes! Ah, he was becoming giddy at the thought!
Table 322! Come on 322!
Mark stood hunched over his latest table. It was shaped like a pentagram, and had all the major schools of magicka carved on top. His magical paste had been poured into all the grooves, and dried. A bright blue-green energy flickered across the table.
He placed a stick in the middle, and focused his mana on the side. It gently entered the table. He focused all his knowledge and mana onto the idea of life drain.
The mana being channeled into the table took on a slightly reddish hue.
'Yes. Yes! YES!' Mark mentally shouted in excitement.
The energy coalesced around the stick, and then clung to it, making the all too familiar game sound effect of an enchanted weapon being created.
A myriad number of edgy names sprang to mind as he lofted up the stick. Elder Wand, Stick of Truth, Burning Bush. Ultimately, he left it nameless. It was but a stick powered by the smallest of Petty Soul Gems afterall!
Mark giddily ran to his room, and rushed back, Greater Soul Gem, and axe in hand.
That tentacle bastard had been worth the trouble. For his efforts of digging up a metric fuck-ton of dirt, he was rewarded with a true honker of a prize.
Placing the axe onto the top of the table, Mark was quick to replicate his earlier experience. He had briefly thought about attempting two enchantments, but quickly dismissed himself of the notion. There would be time to experiment later. Mark wanted to increase his power now.
A red menacing light covered Mark's madly grinning visage. His face was trapped in rapturous glee. After much trial and error, he had finally succeeded.
Holding his axe upright, Mark nearly shouted out 'I Have…The POWERRRR!' Only barely reigning himself in from such a childish inclination.
Mark held his axe close to his face. Dark red energies swirled, and coalesced around the entire thing. From the axe head to the shaft and pommel, it was all enchanted.
And he had the perfect target. Those goblins that had ambushed him a couple weeks back were in prime position to feed his axe.
It was no Sting, but perhaps he could get away with naming it Biter.
A quick Common Soul Gem for Soul Trap on his dirk, and he was ready to deal some hurt to the enemy.
In order to build his strength and create enough Soul Gems to meet the ever growing demands of exploding tables, Mark had gone on a killing spree throughout the Drakwald.
The amount of carnage he had wrought upon the unsuspecting beastmen was legendary.
Between the life absorption spell and his nightly feedings, Mark could tether 10 summons at once. Whatever Lilliana was made of, a month of feeding on her was the equivalent of reaping 1,000 lives! He had tested a human in Esk, and she was nothing close to the intoxicating flavor from his Little One!
The feedings and slaughter had paid dividends to his power. He was marginally faster, stronger and held a slightly larger mana pool!
As a result, Mark's ambush game was unmatched. However, single combat was his weakness, and he often sparred with the men, or Provincial Soldiers before they left town to reinforce his fighting prowess.
Sometimes, he would wrestle with large beasts, or average beastmen to bolster his courage.
A month of constant hunting, and small, yet significant gains made him confident. He was like a gym bro who had put in the dedication and work for 2 solid years. Physical confrontation was no longer as intimidating as when he first crossed over.
And so it was with great confidence that Mark entered the Middle Mountains.
The mountain range was directly behind, and north of Esk. It was here that large deposits of copper, and iron supplied all of Hochland, and was transported down river to the capitol of the Empire, Altdorf.
It separated Hochland from Nordland, Ostermark, and Ostland. At the same time, the mountain range protected Hochland from the marauding viking chaos worshippers of the Northern Wastes, the Norscans. The range also locked the beastmen in, serving somewhat as a cage.
Large trees, amazing vistas and perpetual snowfall graced the Middle Mountains.
Despite the cold, the land was teeming with life. Great Eagles flew high above, rabbits and wolves played the dance of life. There were even goats, and jackalope type animals climbing the crags at impossible angles.
The air was cool and fresh. In many ways, these mountains reminded Mark of Yellow Stone, or perhaps the Alps.
Mark gently levitated above the snow, unconcerned by a potential aerial attack. For on his gnarly Vampire Lord finger was an enchanted ring of invisibility.
The game mechanics could kiss his ass! The Vampire Lord transformation was magical, taking all armor, and weapons to some hammer space.
However, he simply placed the ring on a nearby table, and then equipped it!
It was his one ring to rule them all.
Some may say "why wear a ring of invisibility when you can jist cast the spell?!"
One word. Mana!
Elder Scrolls enchanted trinkets and armor were busted due to their permanent effect. Why waste mana when you could slip on a ring?
While Mark was busy patting himself on the back for his 'big brain play' he paused mid levitation.
Wait a minute. The Vampire Lord form was a magical transformation. His armor, weapons, clothes, anything on his body was disappeared to somewhere. Did that mean he had the potential to enchant/create…bags of holding?!
Mark floated above the snow, stunned by this revelation.
At least ten to thirty minutes passed, while he was deep in thought. It wasn't until a patch of snow fell down from a tree, knocking him on his head, and out of his invisibility that he came back to his senses.
He shook his clenched fist at the sky. 'Damn Skyrim Devs, who decided invisibility would be broken by contact!'
Mark quickly took off, and slipped his ring back on. Once more, he took on a translucent hue.
If it wasn't such a dangerous tool, he would be sorely tempted to arm his undead with rings of invisibility. However, until he acquired some powerful/competent undead, he was unwilling to equip any of his summons with enchanted artifacts. Perhaps with further research, he could attach a tether to them. Take a page out of Sauron's book.
Mark shook his head and sighed. He had places to be. It would be for the best if he finished this slaughter while the sky was dark.
Fighting possibly hundreds of goblins 'solo', and during the day was asking to be slain.
He opened up the satchel he wore around his neck, pulling out the map.
His goal was the Mountain Top Plateau. Next to the small print, there was a printed head of a dwarf.
It wouldn't surprise him if the goblins had made their home in an abandoned Dwarf Hold.
For the next two hours, Mark focused his weak telekinetic flight at maximum power. He traversed 25 miles of steep, snowy mountain in good time.
He knew he had arrived when the trees started to disappear, and the land flattened out.
Carved into the mountainside was a massive pair of statues. Their height was easily as impressive as that of the Eiffel Tower.
The statues were of an elf and a dwarf. Each was shaking hands, and exchanging swords with one another.
Mark guessed that this must've once been a trade outpost dating back thousands of years.
Before the Great Sundering, and Grudge Wars, the dwarves and elves were great allies. Tragically, their pride and vanity were their greatest weaknesses. They broke apart the most powerful alliance in the world. If they had remained united, there were good odds that life for humanity, dwarves and elves would be in a golden age utopia.
Mark clucked his tongue, and took their failure as a lesson. Long life did not equate to wisdom.
If he had to take a step back to make an alliance work, or even retreat for survival, he wouldn't allow pride or vanity to hold him back. Vampires only lived once after all.
Reaffirming his resolve, Mark slowly floated to a dirty, and aged, yet still solid looking wall. The wall to the Dwarf fort was massive in both height and width. He didn't have any means to damage them, and speculated they could hold out against cannon fire for ages.
Dwarven masonry was truly impressive. It had likely been thousands of years, yet there were no cracks in the stonework. Only graffiti, stains from the weather, snow, and overgrown vegetation coated the walls.
The only flaw of this pristine work of stone craft were the gates. A small hole, no wider than two men standing abreast was carved into the twisted metal.
In typical dwarf fashion, the gate and walls were huge, but were also built into the side of the mountain. It appeared that the upcoming slaughter was going to take place underground.
Above the broken gates, there was a blue painting of a goblin head with six arachnid legs behind it. It was evident that the fort was taken by the Spiderslider Tribe.
Standing guard in front were two shivering goblins. If he was in his human form, Mark figured they were no taller than a 13 or 14 year old child.
Mark hummed to himself. When facing unknown odds, he preferred to maintain his Vampire Lord form. In that state, he was faster, stronger, sturdier, and had a larger pool of mana/spells to draw upon.
However, he was here to test out his new weapon after all. After a moment of hesitation, Mark transformed back into his human form.
Maintaining his invisibility, he crunched through the snow toward the guards.
One of the goblin's was startled by the sudden crinkle of boots on snow, but it was far to late for him to take any action.
Mark swung his axe down into its side, instantly killing it. Red orbs greedily sucked away, sapping away at the corpse. In the second it took Mark to withdraw his axe, the goblin's skin sagged. It looked something like a deflated balloon.
The other goblins raised a sword and shield, and began to shout. It never got the chance to make much noise because Mark's axe crunched into the shield, breaking the goblin's arm, and pushing him into the slick snow.
Red orbs once more rose from Mark's opponent.
This time, it wasn't as significant of an amount compared to the first goblin, because he hadn't drawn blood.
However. However, the enchanted axe still did damage despite the fact that the axe blade never made contact with the goblin's flesh.
Just like in Skyrim when an opponent blocked with a shield, they still had their life absorbed.
In this case however, it wasn't something as meaningless as hp that was absorbed!
The goblin gasped from the broken arm, and then yelped in fright, as the arm that held onto the shield began to sag, and wither. It was as if the goblin hadn't moved his arm in 6 months, the limb had atrophied to a frightening degree!
Mark took a moment to marvel at his weapon's effectiveness. He drew his dirk in his off hand. A cruel smile adorned his face as he swiftly slashed the downed goblin in the throat.
Its Soul quickly began to form into a Petty Soul Gem, which Mark chose to collect inside his pouch.
Less than thirty seconds had passed since he first made contact. Mark perked his ears, and searched left and right to see if anyone had noticed the commotion.
It seemed that the coast was clear. Mark kicked the bodies into a pile of snow, and then covered the scarlet snow with another layer.
Nodding his head at a job well done, Mark once again slipped on his ring of invisibility.
For a giggle, he squatted down, and did that funny duck walk 'sneak' that the player character did in Skyrim.
It was an utterly absurd, and nonsensical thing to do. Moving like this in no way made him more stealthy.
But the memory of standing nose to nose with NPC's while maintaining this pose was quite the laughable meme.
Mark couldn't resist toying with these goblins in this manner.
He slowly made his way into the dark tunnel of the fort. The ceiling was rather massive, and the hall appeared endless. Tons of decapitated, and graffiti ridden statues littered the hall.
More importantly, there was a plethora of spider web, and with his aura sight, a horde of sliders lying up in the rafters.
A sleepy snotling (extra small goblin) ran around a corner, and tripped on a strand of web. Near instantly, a giant spider, big as a horse repelled down, and snatched the screaming snotling into oblivion. His face was awash with fear.
A nearby pair of goblins stopped what they were doing, and began to laugh at their fellow's plight.
Mark laughed along with them.
The duo suddenly stilled.
"Oo's there?!"
"Shows yerself!"
Mark rolled his eyes. Fantasy settings were so strange. Every race seemed to understand 'human.' Made it easier for writers to create bad dialogue Mark supposed.
"Who~." Mark blew cold air into the ear of a goblin.
The greenskin was so panicked, he stabbed his spear to the side in a hurry.
"Oi!" His companions eyes bugged out as he gasped his last breath.
While the goblin pulled out his spear in a panic, Mark shoved his dirk deep into his spine, and cut up, like one would carve a turkey.
He was ready to turn visible, and quickly slipped the ring back on.
Another Petty Soul Gem formed in his pouch.
Moving along, Mark took the snotling's death to heart. He made a special note to look out for the spiderweb dangling from the ceiling, and littering the ground. He didn't want to make one of the classic blunder of invisibility.
Darwin hadn't caught up to him yet!
The next group of goblins he came across, they were standing in a long line. At the front of the line was a big pot of stew. A goblin would reach into his mouth, and yank out a tooth. He then placed it next to the cook, and received a bowl.
Mark wondered if it would be worth it to trade with goblins. They were only interested in teeth for currency, he could probably get his hands on many goods. Although, it was probably better to just kill them. Monsters often made poor trade partners.
There were bonfires everywhere in this large hall. At least a hundred were hunkered down, eating soup to keep themselves warm. With his aura vision, he counted hundreds more going about their lives deeper in the hold.
Mark spotted some goblins arguing, and fighting over a weapon in a corner. He went to a dark spot in the hall with some rocks. Picking one up, he took aim, and lobbed it at one of the combatants.
The goblin fell to the ground with a sickening crunch. Its death drew the attention of the rest of the goblin's. Then there was a small skirmishes to loot his corpse.
While they were distracted, Mark made his way to the big pot of stew. He quickly canceled his invisibility, and uncorked a bottle.
He had stood guard, and hung out with Lilliana everyday now, in which he learned a thing or two. He was no herbalist or alchemy master, but with his immunity to poison, he wasn't afraid of getting his hands dirty. As a result, he had mashed up, and tested various herbs on the beastmen of the forest. What he had come up with was this. He dubbed the clear liquid, Chemical X.
Pouring Chemical X into the stew, Mark was quick to put it away, and directly cast invisibility. He didn't want to chance even the second more it would take for him to put the ring back on.
Satisfied with his work, Mark moved on to the next section of the great hall.
Here, the webs were thicker than anywhere else. More than a dozen giant spiders, and some dozens of lesser dog sized spiders called this place home.
He saw a pair of goblins walk on a well worn path. It seemed that the greenskins had cut out a narrow corridor of safety. In their hands, they hauled a crippled beastman.
It howled, and brayed in fear, but the goblins were uncaring. They tossed the beastman onto a large net. Beneath the net were thousands of skeletons of all creatures. Human, goblin, beastman, no creature was safe from the spiders in this hold.
When the beastman made contact with the net, the largest of all spiders descended from the ceiling.
If the lesser spider was the size of a dog, and the giant spider the size of a horse, then this particular spider was the size of a great white shark!
It began to melt, and slurp up the beastman's insides. In less than a minute, the bane of the Drakwald had been made into a nice snack!
A smaller spider tried to fight for the remains, but it was flicked against the wall with a casual flick of the greater spider's talon-like legs. The lesser spider splattered, bleeding tons of green ichor.
The goblins fearfully bowed to the greater spider, and hurried away to grab another prisoner.
The greater spider hissed in satisfaction at the goblins and their subservience.
Mark noted the hint of intelligence coming from the greater spider, and then continued down the hallway.
He eventually reached the end of this exceedingly long, straight hall. Mark figured he must've traveled a mile straight into the mountain.
At the end, there were some ramshackle tents, and pens for prisoners.
Mark was both relieved and saddened that there were no human, elf, or dwarf prisoners. Relieved that he didn't have to go through rescue efforts, but also saddened because he had seen human, elf and dwarf skeletons in the spider nest.
The goblins here were larger on average, and seemed to be better armed and armored. The tallest stood just below Mark's chin. And the one with the best armor wore looted human plate, and mail. Based on the makers marks, there were even a few dwarf weapons present.
Now Mark hadn't set out with loot in mind, but dwarf forged weapons would always find a market. And as long as armor wasn't obviously tainted by Chaos, then it was fair game to be resold.
It was fortunate he could tether 10 summons. Without a inventory, or bags of holding, transporting this shit would be a nightmare.
A goblin came barreling Mark's way. It seemed to be desperately running from something, and then tripped on the ground, falling face first.
"Get over here!" A weedily goblin voice commanded.
The human sized goblin bounded over in quick strides.
"Please Gobsniffa! I gaves you alls me teef! Noooo's!" The smaller goblin turned on his back, and waved his hands in fright.
Dozens of well armored goblins stood back in fright. Yet many of them had eager looks in their eyes. Mark spotted quite a few nasty grins amongst them.
"Where's your fight?! Cowards liken you are the reason those Big'Uns bully us!" Gobsniffa said while pouncing down on top of the other goblin.
Gobsniffa began to pound the goblin on the head over and over again until it was near comatose. He then pulled down a scarf, revealing a huge honker of a nose.
Gobsniffa lowered his nose to the top of the other goblin's head, and took a deep whiff.
"Aye, that's the stuff!" Gobsniffa sighed in contentment.
Through his aura sight, Mark observed green energies leave the runt, and enter Gobsniffa.
The large goblin's aura was bright. He must've consumed countless goblins to achieve such power. Mark furrowed his brows. He would have to approach this situation with tact. While he had initially planned to scope out the location, and then go in guns blazing, the situation had changed.
He had already begun to sow the seeds of chaos by spiking the stew. Now all he needed to do was add a few more ingredients to make a whole meal. Mark grinned evilly to himself as the beginnings of a plan began to form in his mind's eye.
Before he took action, je wanted to fully scout out the Dwarf Hold. However when he advanced past Gobsniffa and his gang, he came across a huge rune forged door.
It would seem that the dwarves had not been overrun afterall. This giant, mile long hall seemed to be the trading outpost. Whereas the real Dwarf Hold was probably behind this glowing door.
Mark was getting strong Mines of Moria vibes just looking at the cryptic dwarven language.
Deciding he could investigate another day, Mark retraced his steps.
Backtracking to the spider's cave, Mark began to hurriedly step on the exposed silk. He would tug very lightly on a string, then dash forward as a spider came hurtling down from the ceiling. Fortunately, such a tiny action was not strong enough to break his invisibility.
Eventually, Mark had pulled on hundreds of strings, and dodged dozens of spiders. The foul beasts seemed to become so annoyed that they wouldn't even deign to descend when he pulled on a string.
Mark had expected them to come down in a fury, but this worked just as well.
Reaching into his pouch, he pulled out a lighter that had carried over from his transmigration. He gave it a shake, a cruel glint formed in his eye.
The next time the goblin's came in with a captive to feed the horde, Mark struck. He nimbly ran from one corner to the other, lighting countless webs on fire.
Loud shrieks, and panicked cursing came from both goblin and spider.
Mark transformed into the Vampire Lord form, and hurried himself to the lesser spider that had been splattered against the wall. He took a deep breath, and decided not to inhale anymore for the next little while. He closed his eyes, and began smearing the bright green ichor all over his ashy gray body.
Soon he was a big, green, stinking mess.
Turning invisible once more, Mark took in the chaos surrounding him. The spiders were pouring out of the ceiling in an attempt to escape. Some had dropped down, crisped to death, or suffocated from the smoke.
Their shrieks drew the attention of the larger goblins. They barked in a harsh tongue, however the spider's ignored them, and began to stampede through the goblins.
Gobsniffa roared at the greater spider, then the greater spider shrieked at the horde, halting their advance.
The goblins cursed, and began to fetch buckets to put out the fire.
Mark was clinging to a side of the wall where the fire had cleared all the webs, and had already burnt all it could burn.
Charging a crimson bolt in his hand, he launched it at the back of the greater spider.
The impact tore a chunk out of it, and it turned around with speeds that should be impossible given its size. It launched a powerful green laced web ball with the force of a cannon where Mark had been.
Fortunately for Mark, he had blinked away in a flock of bats while the crimson bolt was still midair. He had then resumed his invisibility.
The web ball collided with the wall. It stuck to, and corroded a foot of the vaunted dwarven masonry.
Mark sucked in a breath. If he had been just a little slower, he might be seriously injured. He wasn't aware of how tanky he was, and truly, he had no intentions of ever finding out.
The greater spider roared in fury when it realized it had no target to vent its anger on. It turned about, and skittered at Gobsniffa.
Gobsniffa wasn't to be outdone. He drew a large glowing scimitar. It gave off a sickly green toxic feeling similar to the greater spider's attack.
Both spider and goblin stared on as their champions met for battle. As was custom in Warhammer Fantasy, the 1v1 was a sacred tradition regardless of race.
Mark evaluated their skills. The greater spider was fast for its size, but Gobsniffa was much faster. The goblin's speed almost matched Mark's when Mark had first isekai'd over.
However, the copious slaughter, and frequent feedings had Mark confident that any competition of speed between Gobsniffa and him would have him come out the victor.
Gobsiffa's glowing blade sliced left and right, eviscerating spider leg after slider leg. However, the greater spider wasn't going down anytime soon. It was a true colossus.
In typical fantasy fashion, the two sides clashed again and again. If it was a fight anywhere close to Earth standards, one of them would've died within 1-2 minutes of combat. But this was fantasy, and long drawn out fights between powerful foes was expected.
Finally, the greater spider collapsed to the ground. Its legs were a twitching gory mess.
Gobsniffa was huffing and puffing from exhaustion. He stood atop the crippled greater spider, and roared his dominance to the sky.
The spiders were sufficiently cowed, and were starting to be corralled by the goblins.
Gobsniffa raised his blade high, preparing to plunge it deep into the greater spider's brains.
At the same time, the green ichor had finally dried on Mark's skin. It was time for him to make his appearance.
Swooping down from the rafters, Mark drew the attention of every goblin.
Gobsniffa paused in his execution, and turned to Mark.
"And whose you s'ppsed t'be?!" Gobsniffa said angrily. He held his glowing weapons tight ready for a fight.
Mark saw a deep seated hunger in the goblin's eye. He likely wanted a sniff of Mark's noggin. This was good. His fugly Vampire Lord form had some use. He could pass for some sort of goblin variant with enough green coating his hide.
Mark grinned and opened his mouth "I'm!..."
"..." Mark paused. He didn't think he had to introduce himself!
The plan was to kill and supplant the leader, then sew discord! However, he noticed the other goblins staring up at him in awe.
Names in fantasy settings had power. Would they follow him to cause chaos if he didn't provide a name?
"I'm…the Green Goblin!" Mark internally cringed since he could think of nothing better.
"I'm Gobsniffa, get'some!" Gobsniffa said before charging Mark.
He was faster than the average goblin, but after the herculean fight, he was to slow.
Mark held up a hand, catching the pitiful creature in his telekinesis.
He pulled the goblin close, suffocating him all the way. The goblin struggled midair, and as he drew closer, wildly swung his sword at Mark.
"Futile." Mark chuckled, then hurled Gobsniffa into the wall to a sickening crunch.
Mark was no supervillain, je wasn't about to body slam his enemy into the wall, then gloat, or let him get up. He appeared in a flock of bats near instantly in front of Gobsniffa.
He extended both of his clawed hands, and double pierced the goblin through the chest. Holding him high, Mark was quick to cast Soul Trap on him, then tore him apart.
Gobsniffa's hot guts poured out onto the ground.
A Greater Soul Gem formed from the goblin. Mark smirked, glad that he didn't have to face such a formidable warrior on his own.
Picking up the glowing blade, Mark set it aside to collect for later. Perhaps he could disenchant it?
Turning to the greater spider, Mark killed it, and collected a second Greater Soul Gem.
It was during this slaughter that the goblins began to cheer.
"Green Goblin!"
"Greenest Goblin!"
"Green! Green! Green!"
Mark felt stupid, receiving their cheers.
He held up a hand to silence them. When they kept making a ruckus he launched a concussive vampiric drain into the tightly packed crowd, slaying four and wounding six.
"Kill the spiders or you all die!" He growled.
"But boss, we'ze the Spiderslider Tribe! Without spiders what are we?"
Mark erased the goblin that had questioned him.
"Kill or die! I am chief! Obey me!" Mark roared.
The assembled goblins flinched, then ran at the spiders with renewed vigor.
Before long, hundreds if goblins and dozens of giant spiders were engaged in mortal combat.
Mark stood at the back to 'encourage' any goblin that attempted to flee.
As the fight raged on, goblin and spider corpses littered the battlefield
It was a strenuous, and difficult battle for both sides. It seemed like neither faction could seize the advantage.
Almost an hour passed, and the goblins emerged victorious.
However, it was at great cost to the greenskins. Where once they numbered over 500, they were now reduced to a little more than 200.
It was true that goblins bred fast, but these weren't WH40k greenskins. Goblins still took time to grow.
Unfortunately for them, Mark wouldn't allow them that time.
Exhausted, and bloody from the fighting, the goblins never expected to be turned on by their new chief.
Unable to muster much energy to move, they could hardly pit up a fight. As a result, the goblins were routed. They could only flee as Mark set about blasting them in the back.
Every concussive bolt would kill at least one. Many others would be sent to the ground, or lose large portions of their vitality.
Mark spent the next two hours hunting down goblins. Soon, he had so many Petty and Lesser Soul Gems, he didn't know what to do with them!
He couldn't help but laugh at himself. So much for a test of his enchanted weapon!
Magic was just too powerful!
Next time! He promised himself.
Mark resurrected ten goblins, and set then to 'collect shiny's.' Then sat down as they got to work piling up the goods.
After some hours of work, a pile of mostly crap, intermixed with a few valuables began to take shape.
As for Mark himself, he didn't remain in front of the loot pile, but instead rested up on the ceiling so he wouldn't get caught unawares.
His precaution seemed to have saved him, for a man wearing a cloak of flame boldly walked into the hall.
"Ho friend! I finally caught up to you!" The man's wizened old voice magically boomed into the hall.
He paused and waited a moment.
"If you can hear me, my name is Siegfried Ghorst, retired Bright Wizard! I felt the enormous death energy, and came to thank you for taking care of my erstwhile student!" Siegfried's voice echoed.
More silence passed.
"I understand how you Amethyst Wizards are! Just know that you have earned the admiration of this old man! Should you endeavor to discuss the Winds of Magic, come find me in Hergig! We have built a new, Imperial sanctioned research university! Ask for Ghorst!" The old man said cheerily before leaving the way he came.
Mark had hid his undead to wait in ambush. It was a good thing he did, he had avoided an unnecessary fight.
Mark rubbed his chin in thought. He did just acquire all this loot that needed selling. And he had been cooped up in Esk for quite some time.
Perhaps a change of scenery was in order?
AN: Some dude in his 60's riding a mobility scooter called me a "gentleman and a scholar" the other day. Guess nerds know their own, lol.