In Loki's Honor

A month passed since I infiltrated the lizard-folk village. The area where the combat took place became a hotbed of monsters, giving the rangers trouble to keep the critters contained to that section of the forest. The big monsters would attract bigger monsters, and the fighting was both dangerous and profitable, Exp wise. I returned to my training schedule and to tend my deathberry bushes.

Deathberry was a big girl, she didn't need anyone to look after her. It wouldn't be wrong to call it a weed. But there were several things I wanted from the plant. The pollen, the berries, sap, and the leaves. I embraced my [Apothecary] profession and set up a small lab on a corner of the grotto. There I processed the berries into jam, crushed the leaves, and refined the powdered poison. I mixed the milky-white sap, the powdered poison, and the pollen to create tiny pellets that would spread and fall like a cloud of fine dust.

I knew that any kind of assault that relied only on melee combat was doomed to fail. The enemy knew of the ritual and they probably know about me and my vulnerabilities. I fully expect the King and his guards to wield a lot of silver weapons. Getting up close and personal with their elite was a huge no-no. I didn't mind dying that much, but I wasn't suicidal.

To that effect, I needed to diversify my attack vectors. I had two main plans. First, I would use the deathberry jam to cover my claws in combat. My jam was as thick as a custard. I wanted to put blocks of jam in burlap bags and carry a few around my body. Then I could soak my claws in the jam through the gaps in the burlap mesh and poison my enemies with my slashes. And second, the poison dust was water-soluble and heavy enough it wouldn't be carried in the wind for more than a hundred meters or so. I wanted to make compressed bags of dust and burst them to kill enemies in an area.

From the way those adventurers reacted to the Deathberry, I doubted there was an antidote. The elves didn't know of one either. Maybe it was something I could try to make if I survive. I still had four months to go.

I wasn't able to get the jam to the right consistency with pectin alone. It would ooze and seep through the burlap, especially with jerking movements and heat. Both were bound to happen in melee combat. I needed another coagulating agent and my mind wandered to gelatin. If I could mix enough collagen to my jam, that might do the trick. So I set out to obtain deer hooves and antlers from the hunters. My quest was a dud.

Most of the time, the hunters buried them with the bones. But I had the time and the few antlers they brought to the city would be enough for my first test batch. I only had a cable TV documentary I watched once to go by. The Canadians put the antlers in a cauldron to simmer for days at low heat. I set up shop at the mouth of the grotto and built a stone stove. Firewood was a non-issue because I could cut dry branches from the trees and there was enough kindling on the ground. It didn't snow in winter and seldomly rained. Rainfall was concentrated in the months of spring and summer mostly.

Boiling the antlers to get gelatin took two days. The stench of boiling keratin did more to scare the wildlife than the deathberry pollen ever would. I had to do several trips a day to fetch more firewood and water. But once the antlers were all dissolved, I let the broth cool down and used {Refine} to get the gelatin powder.

I cooked the deathberry gel blocks and wrapped them in the burlap. To find worthy test subjects, I needed the rangers' guidance. I did my cleanup routine, which involved removing my work clothes - they never left the grotto - shifting, grooming myself, walking out of the grotto, and changing into normal clothes I never brought inside. That was the best way to not bring any pollen or poison outside.

It didn't take any effort to find Velora. I had a hunch the elves assigned her as a liaison to me. The ranger smiled as I approached. "What can I do for you today, Lily?"

I showed her the leather-wrapped blocks of deathberry gel. "I need to test a new weapon I made for myself. I need you to point me to a monster den that won't die from a few bleeding wounds and is affected by the poison."

She approached and examined the package in my hands, "What do you have there?"

"Deathberry gelatin. As sweet as it is deadly," I grinned.

She flinched. And yes, I did taste it. Deathberry is as sweet as it is deadly. Maybe I can separate the sugar from the poison but can I guarantee the sugar's safety? Surely one could find less troublesome berries to process.

"There's a new goblin den. They burrowed from the underground and are setting up camp in their tunnels. I'll show you where they are."

I followed the ranger with my human feet. She looked at me and was impressed at my speed.

"So," I asked to make conversation, "Why the goblins keep popping up? Why don't we wipe them out?"

She raised an eyebrow at the non-royal "we" and chuckled.

"The ecology of the greenskins was an interesting one," Velora started what would be a long lecture. "Goblins are a perennial plague. They live deep underground, eat almost anything, breed faster than rabbits, mature in less than two years, evolve rapidly," She paused to catch her breath. "And they care for their own lives as much as a rock cares about rain."

I got the metaphor even though I disagreed. "So there's a ton of goblins in the underground. Why do they come up here? Scouts for an invasion?"

She snorted, "No, nothing like that! Weaker goblin tribes are pushed toward the surface by the stronger groups whenever a fight for resources breaks out. The little cowards prefer to flee than to stand their ground. They either try their luck at carving a spot nearer or on the surface or die trying."

"Why not wipe them? Bring the fight to their doorstep!"

"Girl, there are millions of goblins down there. Punitive expeditions to the underground are an exercise in futility. Let me explain. The ones that come to the surface are the weakest, least evolved of the goblin tribes. As you go deeper, you have to fight your way, and they will viciously throw themselves at you in hopes of gaining glory and power. Or just eating your body. It gets more and more dangerous as you descend. The tunnels multiply and spread. It is hard to find a safe spot to stage a raiding camp. Ans we surface-dwellers don't fare very well in the underground.

"So imagine you are in such an expedition. You are tired from constant fights against their rank and file, surrounded, running low on supplies, knowing you have a long way back home, and they start to throw their evolved warriors once you show signs of weakness."

I can see how that would be troublesome for most people. It is just not worth the resources. "I got what you meant. Kill those that surface, leave the hornet's nest quiet."

"A good analogy," Velora grinned.

We scouted the goblin camp. They spread out and built mud hovels half-dug on the ground. The whole place claimed by them reeked of filth. We spotted some rangers and hunters keeping watch around the camp. One thing didn't seem right to me.

"Velora, why did you leave they build their hovels? Isn't it easier to attack before they had the time to settle?"

"No. We did that centuries ago, it didn't go well. The goblins are too bloodthirsty when they first surface. Engaging them right when they appear is a dangerous proposition because we can never be sure how many goblins are coming. It could be a dozen, it could be a hundred, or a horde ten thousand strong. And we have no idea how many evolved they have.

"Even if they destroyed a patch of the forest every time they broke through, it is safer to scout first and only strike after we gathered enough intelligence. Once the threat is eliminated, our magicians and druids seal the tunnels with a super hard stone that binds with its surroundings and makes it extremely difficult to surface again. The next tribe to attempt living on the surface will need to dig their own tunnels."

Right. Elves always play the long game.

"Why not enchant a layer of bedrock to avoid tunneling?"

"Too difficult. And it would mess with the flows of magic underground. Besides, we need access to the water table. They could drain and use that to invade. Doing it that way allows us to build that layer of protection naturally. In a few thousand years, there won't be any goblins surfacing anywhere in our domains."

We watched the filthy green people go on with their filthy brown customs. They used a primitive form of wattle and daub to make their hovels. But instead of cow dung, they used their own poo to mix with the mud.

"So. Goblins. Can I go for the kill?"

"Yes. We wouldn't mind if you farmed ALL that Exp for yourself."

I knew there was a catch there. "Is it dangerous?"

"No. They have no highly evolved goblins in this tribe. Some lesser hobs and probably a hobgoblin or some kind of shaman. Goblin evolutions are myriad. We don't know all of them, but this is a rather weak tribe. You go, girl."

I removed my backpack. "Is anyone peeping on us now?" And started to undress before she answered.

"No. What are you... OH."

"Hold my stuff. I need to tie the belt for the gel blocks. Dispose of this leather wrapper safely. There might be some deathberry jam on it."

"Can I burn it?"

"Yes. The smoke won't be poisonous."

While the deathberry poison resisted boiling, a fire reached much higher temperatures. I shifted to hybrid form and adjusted the two blocks of gel on my hips. They were two rectangular boiled leather boxes with burlap mesh on one side. I could poke the burlap with my claws to soak them in poison gel.

with a feral and toothy grin, I jumped down. Time to slay goblins.

No stealth this time. I went for the frontal assault. I dropped on top of two goblins, digging my hind claws in their skulls and killing them immediately.

You killed level 16 goblin. You gained 800 Exp (2,560 base x 10,000 perk x 0,0001 curse x 0.5 size x 1.25 perk x 0.5 Rank).

You killed level 22 goblin. You gained 1,512 Exp (4,840 base x 10,000 perk x 0,0001 curse x 0.5 size x 1.25 perk x 0.5 Rank).

I looked at the goblins beneath me with disgust. They were flimsy, weak, and worthless. That's why Velora wouldn't mind if I farmed ALL that Exp. The rank-and-file Goblins were worth crap. But you needed to give the little guys points for bravery. There were a dozen running at me with stones and sticks. I wouldn't bother poisoning or biting them. I bet I could kill them with a single swipe each.

It was a dirty job but someone needed to do it. I kept my mouth shut. I knew what was in that mud splashing everywhere. I was right. The goblins died with a single strike from my claws each time. If the damage didn't kill them outright, they died from the hideous bleeding my perks caused.

Their Experience values were low because the stupid System was comparing the goblin with an adult human. I bet they had some kind of HP penalty because of their size. Not the crippling kind I had as a rabbit but still some sort of fractional multiplier.

I kept killing them. More and more came from the hovels. I killed those. I likened these goblin hovels to clown cars. Too many to fit down there. Or maybe they had cloning rituals in there. I could swear they all looked the same to me.

I looked up during a pause in the waves of goblins and I could swear I saw Velora laughing at my expense on the tree branch. My arms were heavy, my fur covered in mud and blood. One thing she didn't tell me was that the goblins made good fertilizer. I bet the forest would regrow with a renewed vengeance in this patch of land.

I had to agree with Velora. Delving to clear goblins was an exercise in futility. But there were goblins to be slain, and I had to level up. No more feral and toothy grin. I had goblin-daub in my mouth. Around me, about three or four hundred goblin corpses soaked the ground with their blood.

I was tired. My regeneration was working just to keep my muscles moving. But there would be no rest for the wicked.

The next wave came. Some slightly larger and fatter goblins appeared from the central hovel. I knew their secret. These half-buried hovels were tunnels. They had chambers underneath the flimsy mud structures. I dipped my claw on the gel and pounced the "lesser hob". It was about a hundred and thirty centimeters (4'4) tall and was stocky and muscular. It was wearing a crude leather breastplate but I clawed its exposed arms.

You poisoned lesser hob. Lesser hob is bleeding. Lesser hob is staggered.

I moved on to the next. That guy was as good as dead. Dodging a crude mace coming my way, I scratched the wrist of the next goblin and kicked the other, dragging the claws of my feet across his belly. While I savaged his friends, the hob I'd poisoned perished.

You killed level 26 lesser hob. You gained 8,450 Exp (6,760 base x 10,000 perk x 0,0001 curse x 1.25 perk).

The lesser hobs were worth as much as a normal lizard-folk. And the poison worked as intended. I knew my claws would eventually break the burlap mesh but I commissioned the leather boxes with replaceable meshes. With my claws dripping magenta goo, I savaged the hobs.

The next development came unexpectedly. I was poisoning and slaughtering the hobs like nobody's business when something hit me and my fur caught on fire. I dropped on my side and rolled in the mud, squeezing some of the gel out. Maybe the forest wouldn't claim this patch so easily now that I thought of it.

I heard someone cackle and I looked up. A goblin the same size of the lesser hob but less muscular adorned with bird skulls was pointing at me. At the tip of his crooked nail, a ball of flame was growing while he chanted.

I scooped a ball of gel from my bag and popped it in my mouth, resisting the urge to eat it. My mouth watered. I stared at the shaman.

The goblin shaman tossed his fireball and I dodged at the last moment, jumping forward and to the side as I spat the glob of gel at his face.

You poisoned goblin shaman.

It landed in his big mouth. He choked and coughed but the damage was done. His tongue jerked and twitched. His eyes rolled. I cut his throat to end his suffering.

You killed level 37 goblin shaman. You gained 34,225 Exp (13,690 base x 10,000 perk x 0,0001 curse x 1.25 perk x 2 Class rank).

Sweet. "ONLY" two hundred shamans until the next level.