Relieved that he had avoided a skull fracture or something even worse, he sent Alma to check on Sion and Yoshi and offer healing if necessary. After drinking two health potions, Richter stood up slowly and looked around. It seemed like only a short time had passed, and all of his forces remained in the tree line. They were venturing forward now that the maelstrom was fading away, though. The dark clouds were clearing, and blue sky could be seen peeking through. Richter was eager to check on his comrades, but with the allied forces coming forward, he knew that Sion and Yoshi would have magical attention soon. Though the battle was done, there was still danger. He turned his attention to the remains of the Druid, or lack thereof.
All that remained of the space where Radg-or had been standing was a crater, three feet deep. On the ground surrounding the ragged depression were small chunks of meat and spatters of black blood. Richter was fairly certain that his back was covered with the same. When the goblin had blown, he’d blown big.
None of this mattered, though. Nothing mattered except for the craggy red orb sitting at the bottom of the crater. For a few moments, all Richter could do was stare at it. It was only the size of a crystal ball back on Earth. He could have held it in the palm of his hand. No larger than one of those hackneyed props you saw in low budget movies. It wasn’t shining now, but just lay there on the ground, dark and inert. His identification Talent showed him its properties, and Richter saw the gold prompt of a relic for the first time.
You have found:
Bloodstone
Durability: 780,000/780,000
Item Class: Relic
Quality: God Crafted
Weight: 5.2 kg
Traits: A Bloodstone is a relic from before the banishing of the gods. Some have said it is only a repository of magic. Others have said that it one of the purest expressions of evil in The Land. Still more say that the intentions of the stone itself are only a reflection of its user. Much is unknown about the Bloodstones, but it is known that spilling the lifeblood of living beings upon the stone increases its power. Be wary of using the power of a Bloodstone. They are harbingers of both change and death.
Richter shook his head. The durability on the thing was, well ungodly! He realized that based on the description, maybe he had it backwards. “God Crafted” or not, he wasn’t about to believe the part about it not being evil. He had heard its voice. Even if it wasn’t evil, it sure as shit wasn’t friendly.
The chaos seed was wary of touching it directly, so he took a cloth sack out of his Bag of Holding. It held some dried vegetables that he emptied out onto the ground. Then, with the opening of the sack wide, he scooped the stone up. For a moment, he thought he heard something, but when Richter listened, the sound didn’t repeat itself. He contemplated putting the sack back into his Bag of Holding, but somehow it seemed like a bad idea to put a godly item into the pocket dimension that held his most precious possessions. The chaos seed couldn’t say exactly why it seemed like a shit idea, except that it was so obviously a shit idea. Instead, he tied it to his belt and ran as quickly as his damaged body allowed him to check on his comrades.
Thankfully, Sion was already on his feet. His skin looked slightly green, but when Richter used Analyze he saw that his friend’s health was climbing. Richter ran over to Yoshi and was relieved to see that the adept was still alive, though unconscious. He cast Minor Slow Heal and watched for a moment. It might have just been his imagination, but he thought the half-sprite’s breathing eased slightly. More healers rushed up, and Richter left Yoshi in their care.
Richter looked out at the battlefield and shook his head at the devastation. What had been a field of beautiful grass had become a wasteland. Blood had mixed with dirt to make a thick, muddy slurry. All around the field were signs of the elemental attacks. Deep craters, scorch marks, flash frozen mud, and even two stalks of fulgurite dotted the landscape. He would be surprised if anything grew here for years. There was more to occupy his attention than the topography, though. A contingent of his guards were walking forward with two of the trolls, led by Terrod, Caulder, and Damien. Both mercenaries were unarmed.
“We greet you,” one said in perfect common-speak.
“What is your name?” the other asked arrogantly.
Terrod spoke up, anger in his voice, “Watch your tongue. You are addressing-”
Richter held up a hand, stopping him. He wasn’t sure what was about to happen, but he was sure that this was a negotiation. That meant knowledge was power. “My name is not important right now. What is important is that you give me a reason to not slaughter you and all of your men,” his tone was weary as if he couldn’t care either way. In truth, he didn’t. Richter quickly used Analyze and found their names were Vulzal and Ttarmok. Ttarmok was the one who had asked his name.
“We are only hired soldiers,” Vulzal said sternly. He clearly didn’t like how Richter had spoken to him. “We have also surrendered.”
“The forms of battle require you to-” Ttarmok said
“Fuck your rules!” Richter screamed. Spittle flew from his lips, so great was his rage. He didn’t know it, but both of his blades had found their way into this hands. He took a step forward, red tingeing the corners of his vision. His emotions were surging. As was often the case, he was able to compartmentalize when there was something difficult to be done, fighting a battle for instance. Afterwards, the emotions came rushing in all at once, and for a short time he could lose control. That was the time he became truly dangerous. That was when his demon could awaken.
These… men, if you could call them that, had killed his people and now they were standing in front of him speaking about the forms of battle? Richter felt like he was losing his grip on sanity. These disgusting trolls had participated in the imprisonment, murder, and rape of hundreds of people and had almost unleashed an ancient horror upon his village. Richter blinked, realizing that he was shaking. Both swords vibrated in his grasp.
He took a long slow breath. When he focused on the trolls again, he saw that the calm visage on both of their faces was gone. Vulzal looked guarded, and Ttarmok’s eyes had widened in fear. Even Richter’s own guards seemed ill at ease after witnessing the fury of their lord. Both Caulder and Terrod had their hands on the hilts of their weapons. Uneasy or not, they would follow their leader’s command.
The chaos seed took another deep breath and found some control. In a strained, but measured voice, he spoke again, “Choose your next words wisely. Tell me why you should live. Speak carefully, or I swear to any gods that may be listening, I will personally butcher you all.”
Ttarmok swallowed hard, and his waxy green skin blanched. It was Vulzal that answered, “On behalf of the Shattered Bone Troll clan, I formally absolve any of the forces here today from blood debt. Further, I extend to you the token of my clan. It entitles you to one audience with our leaders. It is true that I cannot stop you from killing me and my soldiers, but this is only one battle. After the enemy you have made today, you may be happy to count me a friend in the future.”
With that ominous pronouncement, the troll slowly reached into a small pouch at his waist. Caulder raised his mace threateningly, but Vulzal raised an answering hand in peace. Then, moving even slower, Vulzal pulled out a coin-sized disc that had been carved from blackened bone. Richter’s identification Talent triggered.
You have received:
Token of the Shattered Bone Troll Clan
Durability: 54/54