“I will be fine,” Nusin interjected. Both Richter and Damien ignored him.
“I agree with your plan, Lord Richter. You have just allocated the wrong people. There is another member of our team that has been wounded as well. You, Sion and I will lead the goblins, while the other four go along the riverbed. If you think I will agree to anything else, I promise you that I will be damned to the Hell of Bloody Goblin Shit first!”
Richter just looked at him for a moment, and then nodded. Still, he had to ask, “Hell of Bloody Goblin Shit? You made that up, right?”
Damien returned his gaze with a stony face but then ruined it with a wink. “We should move out in sixty seconds. We still need to make them chase us, though.”
“Oh don’t worry,” Richter said with a glint in his eye. “I’ve got that covered.”
“I am going to guess that you do not feel like sharing your plan?” Damien asked.
Richter’s smiled.
“Yoshi was right,” Damien said, shaking his head. “You are a major pain in the scrot.” Richter’s face froze for a moment. Not because he was offended, but because what the sprite had just said was such an obvious improvement over pain in the ass. Damien kept talking, “It looks like Sion is almost done dealing with that trash. Whatever your grand plan is, you might want to implement it.”
The chaos seed looked over and saw that, indeed, only the two grinders were left alive. The rest had been given the coup de grace. Despite what Sion had said about disliking murder, he seemed to have no problem ending the goblins’ lives. His Companion was actually raising his blade over the one Richter had spoken to while Alma was latched onto the goblin’s head. The chaos seed’s heart started hammering wildly, and he shouted, “Wait!”
Richter ran over to his confused friend. Focusing on Alma, he sent a thought, *Can you neutralize the effects of your Psi Blast?*
*Why?* Alma asked, her voice languid with pleasure. After consuming the psyches of so many sentient creatures, she was feeling no pain.
The chaos seed explained his plan aloud so that Sion could hear as well. Alma sent an evil little chuckle through their psychic connection, and the sprite just laughed. She readily agreed. Soon the goblin was blinking his eyes in confusion, but no longer seizing. The dragonling detached from the grinder’s head. She and Sion moved over to their last victim and Richter leaned over and used Analyze.
Name: Pild-nac Race: Goblin Station: Grinder Disposition: Charmed (Hatred)
Goblins can have subclasses that determine their specific powers. Most are a common variant however that are broken into different stations reflective of their physical and magical characteristics. Prolific breeders and woefully aggressive, goblins are a plague on other races. The goblin Grinder receives better training than many other stations, and unlike most goblins, has an innate intelligence equal to most humans. No less aggressive, these foes are not to be taken lightly. If they advance far enough, Grinders can obtain Professions. Grinders receive four points to distribute per level, and each level gives +1 to Constitution.
Level: 17
Health: 430 Mana: 100 Stamina: 310
Strength: 28
Agility: 21
Dexterity: 25
Constitution: 43
Endurance: 34
Intelligence: 10
Wisdom: 12
Charisma: 14
Luck: 15
He breathed a slight sigh of relief when he saw that his Charm spell was still in effect. The spell had an hour duration, but as with all things in The Land, nothing was set in stone. The hour was only a maximum boundary. This was especially true for a spell like Charm. It could convince an enemy to fight for him, but it couldn’t make the creature completely go against its own nature or best interests. Richter couldn’t make the grinder cut his own throat, for instance. Trying to would break the enchantment. Hell, his spell was so low level that even asking Pild-nac to hold hands with Sion might break the enchantment, seeing as how the racial hatred between goblins and sprites ran so deep.
Richter hadn’t been sure if his spell would hold once the goblin regained consciousness, but he was delighted to see that it had. Pild-nac’s low Wisdom meant he had a low magical defense, especially compared to the 50% boost in power Richter’s Life spells received, and the chaos seed had made sure to dual cast the spell to give it a little extra umpf. On the other hand, goblin grinders were smarter than their counterparts in weaker stations, like fighters or scouts. It had been entirely possible that Pild-nac could have broken the enchantment upon waking, but the “Charmed (Hatred)” disposition put Richter’s mind at ease. The first word proved that the enchantment was in place, while the second showed the goblin’s true feelings were attempting to reassert control.
“Do you know me?” the chaos seed asked in goblin-speak.
The green skinned fighter blinked a few more time, but then replied in goblin-speak as well, “Of course I do, my friend. I cannot remember your name, though.”
Richter put a friendly smile on his face that did not match the evil in his eyes. He helped the goblin to his feet, and said, “My name is McClane. I’m so happy that you’re feeling better, my friend. You saved us from the sprites! Now, I need you to answer a quick question for me, and then I need just a very small favor.”
CHAPTER 35 – Day 141 – Kuborn 31, 15,386 EBG
Pild-nac ran through the goblin encampment screaming at the top of his lungs, “The commander. I must speak with the commander!”
He ran past a small goblin contingent of thirty grinders and fighters that had been sent to investigate the attack near the slave pens. The leader considered stopping him, but Pild-nac ran by too quickly shouting, “We have to protect the item! Run! The sprites are coming this way!
The contingent leader eyes widened. He knew that a goblin force twice the size of his had been near the prisoners for the nightly recreation. He also knew Pild-nac. The grinder was a liar, an asshole, and a thief, but he wasn’t a coward. Also, Pild-nac was basically drenched in black goblin blood, a detail that was due to Richter gutting a dead goblin and shaking the corpse over the charmed grinder like a salt shaker over fries. When the goblin leader factored in that all the goblins in the encampment had heard the distinctive boom of sprite imbued arrows, he ordered a retreat. Soon, the entire scout force was running behind Pild-nac. Each of the goblins shouted “Attack! Sprites! Attack!” at the top of their lungs, wonderfully adding to the pandemonium.