《Man With a Mace》 Chapter One - Death of a Pritchard In life, I was just an ordinary kid with an unfortunate name. In death, I''m a man with a mace. Well, agoblin cleric, but who''s counting? It all began on the night before my senior graduation. I lived in a small town in Tennessee, and was the only weeaboo in school, unless the others kept as secret as myself. No one ever heard my controversial political opinions such as the superiority of 2d girls or the hundreds of ways traditional Japanese culture was better than the degenerate hedonism of middle America. While my classmates were getting pregnant and gorging themselves on Country Kitchen, I studied the intricacies of Haruhi Suzumiya and ate lumpy homemade sushi in secret. While they partied and watched NASCAR, I waited for the newest chapter of Berserk and pretended my Mellow Yellow was ramune. And I kind of had some friends, but mostly I just put in face time so no one thought I was gonna shoot up the school, and then spent my ¡°me¡± hours engrossed in anime culture. The only person I really cared about was Sasha, the cutest, nicest girl who didn''t know I even existed. If it wasn''t for her, I''d probably still be alive right now. But on the day before graduation, when I tried to slink past the reprobate American teens hollering to each other about all the shit they were gonna do that night, we made eye contact. I dropped a pen, I think that''s what did it. It was hanging out of my messenger bag, the Star Wars patches disguising the fact underneath it was a replica of a bag my favorite cosplayer made for a Tokyo Ghoul costume. Out of one of the embarrassingly-well-stitched pockets my pen just kind of caught on the desk I was scooting past, attracting Sasha¡¯s attention. Her blue eyes met the ones already staring at her (mine, duh) and her eyebrows raised. ¡°Hey, can you bring a six pack of something? I don''t know if we''ll have enough.¡± I froze. ¡°Y-you mean me? I''m invited?¡± She gave me a look like I''d just asked if sucking dick was vegan. ¡°We¡¯re just going up to the Aims. Can you bring it?¡± Maybe she''d confused me with somebody else. My hair was stringy, but short and black. I slouched a bit, but was tall enough to make up for it. I had acne, worn jeans and a black shirt. Coulda been anyone, but looked sloppy. Definitely not one of the S-tier kids like Sasha with her perfect hair, smile, figure, and¡­ well, everything. So I wasn''t special. I was just another guy who could bring beer. Did I want to? I had been planning on spending my last night in high school¡­ well, pretty sadly. I was leaving a lot behind. Not experiences or memories or anything, but¡­ Graduation. So long as I was still a student I could have some kind of stupid fantasy that something supernatural or mysterious or romantic could happen to me. I was still somewhat like my favorite anime characters. The moment I graduated, I¡¯d be unable to go back to that fantasy. I¡¯d planned to watch some School Rumble and Yu Yu Hakusho, then play some Persona 4. I¡¯d have some ramen with the really expensive tonkatsu I¡¯d ordered online and hidden in the fridge a couple days ago for this moment. I''d lament my dead childhood, and hail the coming of adulthood. Or I could take this one fucking opportunity to do something I might remember happily ten years from now. Was it worth it? Probably not. Maybe. I dunno. If it had been anyone else, I''d have said no in a heartbeat. Normies are just not worth it. But it wasn''t just a normie staring at me with liquid glass eyes, it was Sasha. I made a decision then, and nodded. ¡°S-Sure. What time should I be there?¡± ¡°I dunno, eight?¡± ¡°Huhuh, it¡¯s a date!¡± She gave me that look again. ¡°No?¡± And then she turned back to her conversation, and I was forgotten again. I got out of there as fast as I could, thinking of nothing other than Sasha¡¯s face¡ªthe closest I''d ever come to it¡ªthe whole bike ride home. The hot august sun soaked my back and buttcrack with sweat, and by the time I got home to our shitty trailer I reeked. I hosed off before coming in, glad Mom was at work on second shift and couldn¡¯t yell at me about dripping on the nice linoleum. And Dad was still asleep from third shift, so I basically had the whole place to myself. Even though I''d washed outside I took a rare second shower so as to be more fancy for my party, and then reheated some pizza while I looked longingly at the tonkatsu pork I wouldn¡¯t be getting to that night. I guessed it wouldn¡¯t be so bad as a graduation celebration meal instead. But even after showering, eating, and spraying myself with more Axe than a forest full of lumberjacks, I still had hours to kill. I locked my room door¡ªI don''t really know why, for e of habit¡ªand pulled my anime disk collection out from under my bed. Inside I had seasons upon seasons of DVD, laserdisc, and even a few blu rays of some of the most classic anime of the eighties, nineties, and early 2000s. Mostly high school anime. Lotta shonen battle stuff. But my hand paused over one particular sleeved DVD, one I hadn¡¯t watched in years. I withdrew the first two episodes of Steins;Gate, and looked at it in silence. A show about adults, sort of, and even still they had weird adventures and met bizarre people. I''d never live in Akihabara like Okabe and Itaru, but maybe my life would one day be as exciting as theirs. I popped the disk into my old DVD player, hooked my thrice-repaired Sennheisers to a jack adapter (you can never be too careful when it comes to weeaboo audio), and immersed myself in the atmospheric world of Steins;Gate. Six episodes and three hours later, it was time to face my destiny. I grabbed one of Dad¡¯s many twelve-packs of Natty Ice, shoved it into a big backpack (no way it was fitting in my messenger bag), and started a wobbly bike ride out to the old Aims building.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. It was supposed to be a department store, out in what was supposed to be a new business zone of the town. Neither of those things ever happened, so the wrecked shell of a building that never was served as a common hangout for teen thots and edgy spergs alike. I was grateful for the darkening sky as I rode, the heat of day beginning to dissipate and minimizing the sweat staining the much-cleaner navy tee I now wore. I skidded up beside the looming wall of the Aims building, looking up at the caving, dilapidated roof, and listened to the sounds of my ¡°peers¡± inside. It took a couple deep breaths before I was ready, but at long last I hoisted the beer over my shoulder and stepped through a hole in the corrugated aluminum cladding and into a ring of light cast by a couple burning grills. I didn¡¯t immediately see Sasha, but there were about a dozen other people there. Some football guy took the beer off my hands with a ¡°thanks bro,¡± leaving me empty-handed and feeing purposeless. Some rock blared on a crappy blue tooth stereo, and there were some hotdogs charring on the grill. I guess it didn¡¯t feel too different than the occasional cookout the neighborhood would have, except instead of middle-aged people with sunburns and wife beaters and sandal-sock combos there were a bunch of scrawny girls in tight shirts and husky guys with buzz cuts and Fox sneakers. Nobody was wasted yet, but between my contribution and that of a few others, that¡¯d soon be remedied. Not that I cared about getting drunk. I¡¯d done so with sake, in private, once. That was enough for me. So as more people arrived, and everyone had someone to talk to and drink with, I was alone in a throng of soon-to-be graduates. Smash Mouth was my soundtrack, and even if I wished to be the main character of my own anime, I felt like I was the crappy CGI crowd member in the background of everyone else. ¡°Hey, when¡¯s Sasha coming?¡± I asked a braided, knee-booted girl with more of a fondness for horses than nature intended. ¡°I think she went up to the roof,¡± she said, and went back to her conversation. So, with nothing better to do and even less to lose, I went after Sasha. There wasn¡¯t any real way to get to the barely-functional roof of the Aims building, but someone a couple years back had stolen one of the firehouse¡¯s long ladders, and propped it against one of the Aims building¡¯s inside walls. It led up to a hole in the roof which was usually covered by a sheet of plywood, but which was already pulled aside as I clambered up and hauled myself over the hole¡¯s lip. Sasha was there, all right. She sat with her legs over the side of the building on the far side from the road, and turned to look at me as I walked carefully over torn, rusty metal to reach her, sounding like I was stomping on the world¡¯s biggest kettle drum as I approached. ¡°Hey,¡± I said, sitting down beside her. ¡°Uh, hi?¡± Sasha replied, giving me that stupid look again. ¡°Do I¡ªoh, you¡¯re that guy¡­¡± She made as if to get up and leave, but I moved a bit further from her ¡°I¡¯m not gonna do anything, Sasha.¡± I wanted to say something poetic, maybe about observing the beauty of the stars, but nothing seemed right, so I just kind of sat there, half-slouched, and looked out at the forest well beyond the bulldozed clearing that¡¯d long since grown over with grass and weeds. I didn¡¯t hear her stomping on the metal. After a few seconds Sasha sighed and sat down next to me again. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± she asked. ¡°Pritchard.¡± ¡°Seriously?¡± She gave me a new look, one with some pity in it. ¡°Sorry. Just never heard a name like that.¡± I shrugged. ¡°Just don¡¯t call me prick.¡± She snorted. ¡°And you already know me, apparently.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not a creep. Just you have a memorable name, I guess.¡± ¡°Sasha?¡± ¡°Y-yeah.¡± We didn¡¯t say anything for a while. It really was nice up there. Despite the cheesiness of the line I didn¡¯t actually say, the stars were gorgeous. Sometimes I did like to go outdoors on a scorching summer night, and as I¡¯d spray myself with cold water to try to help sleep come more easily, I¡¯d look up and imagine an alien was gonna come down and change my life, like in FLCL or Urusei Yatsura. It never did, but on a night like that one, with an ever-more raucus party below me and my crush beside me (and not fleeing at the sight of me) I felt I was living in some alternate reality anyway. It felt like real life was somewhere else. It was just the two of us, alone, and whatever passed that night was completely disconnected from whatever boring reality life would throw at me later. I¡¯d heard Sasha was going off to college on the East Coast, something about Marine Biology. I¡¯d probably never see her again. ¡°I like you,¡± I said. ¡°Y-you¡¯re pretty, and I like how you¡¯re nicer than the other girls even if you don¡¯t pay attention to people like me, and I¡¯ve seen Sailor Moon too, it¡¯s pretty good for a classic shoujo.¡± I¡¯d seen her wear a Sailor Moon shirt once, a few years ago. I think that was the first time I¡¯d really noticed her. And now this¡¯d be the last time I talked to her, I knew it. My heart pounded and I could feel my sweaty hands shaking against the warm metal roof. I kept staring up at the stars as she got to her feet. ¡°O-oh,¡± she said. ¡°I, I mean, uh, that¡¯s really sweet but¡­¡± ¡°Sorry,¡± I said quietly, almost in a whisper. ¡°We¡¯ll never see each other again anyway. Don¡¯t worry about it.¡± ¡°No, no worries,¡± Sasha said vaguely, and began walking away. There was a whistling sound behind me, and her footsteps paused. ¡°Woah.¡± More whistling. Fireworks? I rose, careful of the roof edge which I put at my back, and stared at the spectacle in the heavens. Streaks of red and green were screaming through the sky, bright, impossibly so. They had to be some new kind of firework. They zipped this way and that, not following any particular path but swirling and sparking and breaking apart. ¡°Hey,¡± Sasha said, ¡°does that look like it¡¯s getting bigger to you?¡± Yes. One of the lights, a green one, was indeed getting larger. Quickly. In fact, it was coming right for us. My heart literally skipped. It was a painful heavy lull brought on by the most intense fear I¡¯d ever felt in my life. This now-giant ball of fire streaked with green lighting, filling my vision, consuming the sky, the metal at our feet reflecting back a dull light where it wasn¡¯t rusted to pieces. I screamed and threw myself on Sasha, knocking her to the roof and covering her as though my wimpy, fleshy body could protect her from the ball of death looming in the heavens. Everything went white, and then black, and then I was dead. Chapter Two - One Goblin Boi The world was grey as I opened my eyes and looked up at the sky. Clouds. I was alive? But¡­ outside? I groaned, and noticed that my voice seemed a bout higher-pitched than it normally did. Odd. I must have gotten up to some weird stuff at the party last night¡­ I sat bolt upright, panicked thoughts clashing in my head. School. Graduation. Sasha. The meteor. I was on a hill, I saw, one covered with short, brown grass. An in fenced dirt road was at my right, and led down the hill and far off into what looked like a desert in the far distance, with little mountain peaks maybe beyond that. My head hurt, I realized, and I groaned as I clambered to my feet. I yawned, scratched at the side of my face, and then slapped at a mosquito that had landed on my arm. I froze. My arm was bare, and knobby, and green, and warty. What the fuck? Someone had spray painted me while I was passed out? But no, my arm was just plain the wrong shape. Not as long or thick as it should have been (that¡¯s what she said), and my fingernails were ridged and heavy. And, well, there were the warts. Unless I¡¯d contracted the world¡¯s fastest-acting venereal disease, those warts definitely didn¡¯t belong on my arms. And I noticed as I walked wobblingly up the hill to get a better look at the other side, my bare legs and feet were bowed and bent and green and warty as well. My feet stunk, I could now tell, and were sort of lizardy. I was naked, as it turned out. And apparently my, uh, entire body had received the shortening, wartening, greenening treatment. I couldn¡¯t see my face, but it seemed to have sharpened somewhat, and I had only a few strands of wispy hair on my head (I didn¡¯t want to risk losing what little I had, so I didn¡¯t pluck one out to check if it was green or not). You¡¯ll notice I¡¯m relaying all this calmly, almost objectively. That¡¯s the benefit of retrospective narration, my dudes. At the time, I was screaming with self-pity at my newfound shortness, baldness, ugliness, and¡­ well. Not to be too vulgar, but I had been rather fond of my previously-proportioned porker. I regained control of myself once I got to the top of the hill, thankfully. Rubbing snot from my face and syrupy-thick, nasty-smelling tears from my eyes, I was met with the sight of a definitely evil obsidian castle. Not the slightest hint of subtlety there: Black glass rose in twisting spires from the ground, surrounded by what looked like thousands of thick iron rods that glowed red-hot at the tips, and some sort of red smoke rose in a miasma from the tips of the castle towers. I swear thunder crackled a little bit. So there I was, naked and green in a place I¡¯d never seen before. There was a menacing fucking castle on one side of me, and a forest filled with hungry asshole predators on the others. Where would you have gone in that situation? I figured I was green, maybe some kind of goblin (unless I was still human and had been irradiated or something), and therefore the evil castle was probably safer than the forest. My decision made, I trotted down the hill, willie flopping jauntily in the breeze. The castle loomed alrger over me as I approached, and to tell you the truth it kind of smelled like shit. I stopped in front of this massive gate made of bones (human, no doubt) and knocked as decisively as I could on it. A figure popped its head over the obsidian battlement above, something like a cross between an elephant and a vulture. ¡°Oi, nekkid goblin! About time you showed up.¡± ¡°You were expecting me?¡± I asked, hands on hips. So I was a summoned hero. That¡¯s how it looked, at least. ¡°Care to open that there gate and let me inside?¡± ¡°Hold on,¡± the vulturephant said, and the head disappeared. A minute later it reappeared and a grizzly, clawed arm appeared with it, hurling a set of rags down over. ¡°Make yerself presentable, we¡¯ve got wimmin and childens in here!¡± As I struggled to knot the muddy, ragged clothes into something that¡¯d actually stay on my body without falling off, the gate creaked open. I tried to act as imposing as I could. I was the main character, after all. I needed to present a fitting image. Chest puffed out, I stepped through the opening, and into a courtyard filled with black-armored humanoid soldiers, each carrying weapons and muttering evil things to each other. Huge fire pits dotted the courtyard, and half-naked human slaves toiled at these, pulling metal from the heart of the fire to hammer it against rocks, or baking bread and meat in the coals. I looked at these poor fools as I marched along the giant blatant path in the middle of the courtyard and under the portcullis of skulls leading into the castle proper, grateful that I was a Main Character and not a wretched slave like them.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. *** ¡°¡­and every knight needs a squire,¡± said the Dark Lord. ¡°Well, a slave, really.¡± ¡°What?¡± I squeaked, just about at the point of tears again. I was kneeling before a throne of red-hot steel, upon which sat Nehelimonion, Lord of Darkness. By my side stood Sasha, who had been transformed into a half-orc. Basically, a ripped humanoid with eight-pack abs, colossal tits, a thick brow ridge, and two cute little tusks rising from under her lip. She wore a minimal set of black steel and white fur armor, probably a Barbarian set, despite the Dark Lord calling her a knight. Sasha had come into the word about an hour before me, had marched into the castle, and had been given a warm welcome by the Dark Lord. He had provided Sasha with the armor she now wore, and the artifact battleaxe (Imagine an axe made out of Lego bricks, except the Legos are bat skulls, each with little flames dancing in their eye sockets) now strapped to her back, and had fed her a great feast while he waited for ¡°the other one¡± to arrive. Me, as it happened. See, I wasn¡¯t given quite the same welcome, because I was only there by chance. Sasha had been summoned out of her boring life, apparently, because she was the most vicious person on Earth. I had thrown myself on top of her at the party, to save her, and so the blast of energy that transported Sasha had also grabbed me. Apparently it was odd I hadn¡¯t been vaporized (like all the other kids at the party) and so the Dark Lord was willing to give me a chance in his service also. ¡°But your majesty,¡± I said, as simperingly as I could manage, ¡°if I¡¯m going to do stuff in your evil service, wouldn¡¯t it make sense to make me a hero too? I can do lots of things, I¡¯m a great tactician, and I know all about worlds like this¡ª¡± ¡°SILENCE!¡± roared the Dark Lord¡¯s pet toad, a little creature with a sonorous roar. Nehelimonion patted the creature on the head, and laughed. ¡°If you were truly special you wouldn¡¯t have incarnated as a goblin. I¡¯ll give you a chance to prove yourself, but I¡¯m not wasting good artifact weapons on a shrimp like you. The first adventurer to see you with a Vorpal Blade or Doomsinger would hit you twice and take my precious treasure from your still-warm corpse. No, you¡¯ll be of much greater use to Lady Sasha.¡± I stole a glance at my sexy companion. She stood menacingly, muscles rippling, breasts jiggling, eyes gleaming. Most vicious person on earth, huh? I¡¯d never heard of her doing anything violent. But who was I to argue with a Dark Lord? Well. It was true I felt scrawny and weak as a goblin, even more than I had as a human. Maybe staying close to Shasha and letting her do all the dirty work wouldn¡¯t be such a bad idea, in the short term at least. If this was an RPG-like fantasy world, there¡¯d be a ton of opportunities for me to take my pick of the loot drops Sasha would get, especially since she already had high-tier equipment that¡¯d be higher quality than most elite enemies we¡¯d fight. ¡°Your majesty,¡± I said, ¡°I gratefully accept this honor.¡± Sasha yawned. ¡°Pass. I don¡¯t need a squire.¡± ¡°SO LET IT BE DONE!¡± The toad screamed, nearly having a seizure with the effort, and the Dark Lord shrugged. ¡°If you say so. Guards, send Pritchard to the sand mines.¡± He paused for a moment. ¡°You know, I like a good gamble on fate. Give him a Hero Core, while you¡¯re at it.¡± He turned to Sasha, ignoring my gasp of horror. ¡°Lady Sasha, may you do terrible things in my name. Let the world become cinders, and your enemies dust. Purge the light from this world, and dominate it for my sake. Fare thee well!¡± All the guards and slaves cheered as their new, sexy champion stomped out of the room with the quest of tilting the balance of the world toward evil. Their cheers, in fact, completely drowned out my outraged shouts and screams of wanting a fair trial and of Sasha being a bitch whore (I wasn¡¯t a very nice person back then, but in my defense I had just been condemned to a life of slavery for no reason). I was whacked on the head a few times by a well-armored brute until I bit my tongue and stopped talking, and remained silent as I was dragged outside and shoved into a cart with obsidian barred walls, ostensibly to await carting off to the slave pits. I¡¯d had better days. Worse, too, but definitely better. I sulked for a long time, cursing the flippant cruelty of Sasha and of the Dark Lord. And fate in general. I had been happy enough with my life back on earth. What was the worst that could happen? Graduate? Then work all day at a shitty job? Go home every night and watch anime and post with my online friends on chat boards while eating junk food? That¡¯s not a bad life at all. What kind of loser gets sucked into another world and doesn¡¯t even get to be the main character? Life sucks. It really fucking does. Chapter Three - The Sand Mines ¡°Millions of years ago, this here rock was a desert. Some tribes lived there, but our Dark Lord killed ¡®em all.¡± The slavemaster was a werewolf with a fancy beard and mustache. He wore only a pair of shorts which looked suspiciously like denim, and carried a whip. ¡°Then our Dark Lord asked his whore Mother Nature to do ¡®im a favor and turn that desert into sandstone. She took her sweet time doing it, but here we are.¡± He spat onto the ground at his bare feet, a swathe of red and yellow sandstone. After a few seconds, the spit evaporated under the sweltering sun. ¡°Your job, maggots, is to turn this valley back into sand. Anyone have anything to say?¡± His beady eyes roamed over the twenty newcomers who stood in chains before him, of which I was the smallest by far, and the only non-human. ¡°No questions, then. Smart bastards.¡± The slavemaster gestured to a squat ogre who stood ready with a sledgehammer. At the slavemaster¡¯s command the ogre walked from one slave to the next, striking the clasps off the chains binding our wrists and ankles, grunting like a pig the whole time. I rubbed my chafed arms after the heavy chains had fallen, looking around at the slowly-walking slaves all around us. We were in something like the Grand Canyon, and there were tunnels carved all over the place into the walls of the canyon. Slaves walked in with picks and shovels, and staggered out with sacks that leaked fine sand. They poured these into one of three central piles that sat in the middle of the camp. Small tents and awnings dotted the canyon, and under these sat werewolves and ogres, clearly the people in charge around here. My attention was pulled back to the slavemaster as he whistled for another slave to approach and dump picks at our feet. ¡°This is your pickax,¡± the slavemaster said. ¡°You only get the one. The Dark Lord is kind enough to credit one experience point a day to your Slave Core. You may spend one point for better food and a tent bed at night. If your pickax breaks, you must spend ten points to get it repaired, unless you somehow find money to pay for it that way.¡± An old woman beside me began to raise her hand, but the slavemaster shot her a malevolent glare. ¡°If you have no points when your pickax breaks, you will do the work with your bare hands and whatever hard object you can find lying around.¡± He paused for a moment. ¡°Oh, and you can spend two thousand experience points to buy your freedom. If you really want to spend five years sleeping outside and eating oatmeal and drinking disgusting water, be my guest.¡± He left us, then, and not knowing what else to do, I picked up the tool at my feet. It was very heavy. I jumped as someone tapped me on the shoulder, and held the pick to my chest as I whirled. A huge ogre, the biggest I¡¯d seen in the camp, towered over me. ¡°You new,¡± he said, and grinned a very green smile. ¡°You my bitch. Come help.¡± Well, it wasn¡¯t as if I had anything better to do. I trudged after the ogre, and thought back to my ride into the sand mines. The elephant-vulture man who had let me into the Dark Lord¡¯s castle had also been the one to tend to me after I¡¯d been thrown into the slave cart. He¡¯d brought me a loaf of nasty bread and some warm milk. I was hungry enough by then to wolf it all down without a second thought. The creature¡ªhis name was Suuuuur¡ªhad also handed me a silver mirror about the size of a playing card. ¡°The Dark Lord tells me your world cannot manifest their Cores,¡± he¡¯d said. ¡°In our world, each creature is born with a template that connects them to the Other Place.¡± ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± I¡¯d asked. ¡°It¡¯s the source of all magic and of the metaphysical systems binding together the world. Experience points, instantaneous skill knowledge, that sort of thing.¡± I¡¯d taken the mirror in my hand, noting how it was almost weightless. As I¡¯d looked at it, the mirror had melted briefly into my skin before reappearing. A line of text had appeared at the top of it.
HERO Core v4321.61.7.5.34 || Soul-Binding Complete. || Pritchard || Lv 0 Goblin Classless || 0 EXP / 0 GP
Suuuuur had opened his palm, and a similar mirror with copper edges had appeared in his own hand. A line at the top read
SERVANT Core v4664.62.41.12 || Suuuuur || Lv 186 Sa¡¯Kuham Dark Steward || HIDDEN
Suuuuur closed his taloned fist, and the mirror disappeared again. ¡°Nearly all sentient beings are born with either a Common Core or a Monstrous Core, depending on their race¡¯s alignment. In fact, though it¡¯s a closely-kept secret in nearly every Good civilization that nobles and even royalty are born with Common Cores, the same as the basest peasant. The Royal and Noble Cores that give those people their strength and high level caps are treasures kept closely in the respective families.¡± The Sa¡¯Kuham (I still call him an elephant-vulture though) smiled. ¡°Even your Monstrous Core you were born with as a goblin gives you more innate potential than the Common Core of the king of the humans was born with.¡± ¡°What about this Hero Core?¡± I asked. ¡°Or your Servant Core?¡± It didn¡¯t make any sense. If what Suuuuur had said was true, this was some kind of treasure the Dark Lord had given a slave he was just sending off to the sand mines. ¡°My Servant Core allows me a high level cap, but very few combat abilities, and sends a portion of all experience points and money I earn to my patron master.¡± He shrugged wrinkled shoulders. ¡°I am content with my life. Your Hero Core is one of the most treasured cores of all. You have a relatively low level cap of one hundred, but have access to all the Hero Classes and their abilities. It is said a Hero Core can even be ascended into an Epic Core, though one such as me has no idea how you could go about that.¡± Suuuuur¡¯s eye gleamed as he leaned in and put his withered beak close to my face. ¡°You¡¯re wondering why you were given it. Are you religious, goblin?¡± ¡°My mom¡¯s Catholic, but I bet you don¡¯t have those here.¡± ¡°So no, then. My Dark Lord is. Religious, or perhaps superstitious. Fatalistic. My Dark Lord believes you were brought here for a reason, goblin, and that even if he has no use for you, the Universe or God or Fate might. And if it does, nothing my master can do will stop it. In fact, perhaps if he helps open the door a little bit, whatever powerful force this is might bless him a little more.¡± Suuuuur winked. ¡°Personally, I think it¡¯s a bit silly. But then, I¡¯m not a Dark Lord.¡± The creature began to walk away, but one more thing was bothering me.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. ¡°Suuuuur,¡± I said. It sounded like I trying to imitate a foghorn. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind me saying, you people aren¡¯t really what I¡¯d expected out of a bunch of, well, evil people. Like, yeah, slaves and all that jazz, and the castle¡¯s impressive and everything, but¡­¡± I shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t see evil people making sure I have dinner or anything.¡± The Sa¡¯Kuham paused before answering. ¡°Well. I think ideology is evil. I don¡¯t think people can fall so cleanly into good and evil. I¡¯ve seen good-aligned people do terrible things. I¡¯d like to think even evil creatures can do some good in the world.¡± His eyes gleamed. ¡°Make no mistake. The Dark Lord is relentless, and ambitious, and will, no doubt, one day rule the entire world. He has no qualms about slaughtering all who stand between him and that goal. But within that space, he is the most honorable and stalwart man I have ever known.¡± Suuuuur began walking back to the castle again. ¡°Take care, goblin. May we meet again on better terms.¡± I didn¡¯t sleep much that night. The next morning, a couple dozen of the slaves from around the castle courtyard were rounded up and shoved into the cart with me. We were all connected with chains on our hands and feet, and then began a two-day journey through a dark forest. Monsters and beasts hissed and roared around us from time to time, but nothing ever showed its face. I was pretty depressed during that ride. It seemed like nothing would ever get better. I didn¡¯t know if it was possible for someone to kill me and take my Hero Core, so I looked at it only when I didn¡¯t think anyone else was awake. Fortunately the other slaves seemed to be trying to cram as much sleep as humanly possible into each minute, so I had a lot of time to look at it. So, going back to the present. It was nice to be able to stretch my legs, even if that stretching involved hard labor in a scorching canyon with a werewolf slavemaster. Our job involved going deep into one of the tunnels carved into the sandstone and hacking at veins of softer stone so that it disintegrated and fell at our feet. After a couple hours of sweaty, blistering work, I had enough to fill a burlap bag. Then, I followed my ogre buddy (though he said I was his bitch, that really just seemed to involve hacking at the same part of the wall as him) to one of the big piles and emptied it in front of an overseer, who made a little note on a piece of slate. We continued this for hours, until the sun went down. I spent most of that time trying to figure stuff out about the world I was in. One sun, geology and biology that seemed pretty similar to Earth. Fantasy races, magic, a system using the cores that was clearly RPG-like. I¡¯d tried to interact with the Hero Core a bit on my ride in, but was only able to bring up a stat screen.
HERO Core v4321.61.7.5.34 || Pritchard || Lv 0 Goblin Classless || 0 EXP / 0 GP STR 9 || CON 7 || DEX 12 || INT 14 || WIS 8 || CHA 6 || 0 Attribute Points Available ============Worn Rags (+1 AC)=========== ===============Unarmed===============
I wondered how powerful a weapon my pick was, but decided not to try it out on anyone. Aside from the worldbuilding I¡¯d been able to figure out, I learned a bit about my ogre friend and about my work. I was the bitch of Grub, apparently, an ogre who had been enslaved after his tribe had attempted to rebel against the Dark Lord armed only with some warhammers and a stolen cartload of enchanted Elvish cockrings. I¡¯d have given a lot of money to see that fight. Grub had been a slave for three years now, and saved five experience points a week (their day, week, and year system was interestingly similar to ours) toward his freedom. He put one point aside in case he broke his pick (which had happened a couple times, apparently they do just wear out eventually) and spent one every Wednesday (or the equivalent, I won¡¯t bore you with all the date names) on a better dinner and a nicer bed. Grub showed me the best way to use my pick, how to tell the softer veins of sandstone from the surrounding, harder rock, and how to kick at the sand instead of always using the dingy brooms they give us to sweep the sand up. ¡°Bad for lumbar,¡± Grub said, pointing at a scrawny old man whose back was decidedly crooked. ¡°Practicing good form important. We do this every day. Little hurts add up.¡± He made extra care to remind me to listen for the sound of running water. ¡°That not water,¡± he said. ¡°Soft pockets in rock. Sand goes through cracks and pushes down. Caves in. We die.¡± I made sure to listen closely all day, but heard nothing. That night, the slavemaster blew a little flute whistle, and everyone immediately stopped working. I felt a slight tremor in my right wrist, and turned my aching arm to look at it. My Hero Core appeared in my hand.
HERO Core v4321.61.7.5.34 || Pritchard || Lv 0 Goblin Classless || 1 EXP / 0 GP STR 9 || CON 7 || DEX 12 || INT 14 || WIS 8 || CHA 6 || 0 Attribute Points Available ==============Worn Rags (+1 AC)=============== ==Worn Mattock (unskilled, -10 To-Hit, 1d3 Piercing)==
Some of the other new slaves were also looking at their arms, but I didn¡¯t see their cores pop up. I figured you could only see someone else¡¯s core if they explicitly let you, like Suuuuur had. ¡°Awesome,¡± I said to Grub, who hadn¡¯t even looked at his core. Of course not, he¡¯d been here so long a measly little experience was nothing to him. ¡°My first experience point. I know I should be saving it but I¡¯m starving.¡± Grub¡¯s chuckle was wet and hearty. ¡°Only thousand and nine hundred and ninety and nine to go.¡± ¡°That¡¯s the spirit,¡± I replied, and we walked together to the food line, carrying our picks with us. The cook was a werewolf with a giant belly and a stubby nose. I held out my bowl, hungry even for the plop of gruel I saw was coming to each slave, but the cook instead put bread, a carrot, and dried meat on my plate. ¡°Cap¡¯n says welcome to the new bois,¡± he said, and motioned for me to get on with it. Grub and I sat with our backs to the canyon wall as we ate. ¡°This isn¡¯t so bad,¡± I said. ¡°Not for, like, slavery. They don¡¯t even beat us for no reason, and I could get good food and sleep inside every night if I wanted.¡± ¡°Mmmhm. Freedom better,¡± said Grub. He looked up at the sky, where stars were showing themselves in the wake of the setting sun. ¡°Food keeps weak down. People think ¡®not so bad,¡¯ and they stay slave forever.¡± He raised a meaty fist and clenched it, as though taking the sun in his grasp. ¡°One day, I be free. Until then, I work. I eat slop. I stay strong. One day I be free, and return to fight Dark Man, and this time not go slave. Die in fight.¡± I looked at Grub in awe. I hadn¡¯t taken him to be a particularly intelligent creature. ¡°I get the freedom thing. Where I come from, we say ¡®give me liberty or give me death.¡¯ But why would you just want to go back and die in a fight? What¡¯s the difference between getting your freedom and dying, and dying as a slave?¡± Grub looked me in the eye. ¡°Everything.¡± We finished our meal in silence, and then we retired. I lay in a tent with about thirty other slaves¡ªall the newcomers were given a free night, and about a dozen more slaves had cashed in their experience point¡ªand Grub slept alone on the top of a huge boulder, pick on his chest, looking up at the open sky. As I drifted to sleep that night, I thought that he looked awfully peaceful. Chapter Four - Level Up Work wasn¡¯t so bad. I liked it better than school, at least. I¡¯d thought, early on, that I¡¯d miss all the free time I used to have, but that didn¡¯t really happen. Sure, I missed being able to watch anime and eat junk food, but when meals came I was so starving even the slop tasted like the best thing on earth. When the sun set, flopping down and going to sleep was the best thing in the world. I remembered what Grub had said about freedom and stuff, and decided to save up most of my experience points too. I didn¡¯t even take the one day a week for better food and shelter like Grub did. It was all the same to me. Of course, I was smart enough to make sure to save a bit in case my pick needed replacing. Weeks passed. I got to know a lot of the other slaves. Some were nice enough. Others were just bullies who tried to use their being-much-larger-than-a-goblin-ness to get me to do their work. A smack from Grub and a warning that I was his bitch usually sent them packing. What a sweet guy. One day as I received my daily experience point, my arm vibrated a bit harder than normal and light flashed briefly around me. Grub raised his eyebrows. ¡°You leveled, Bitchard!¡± ¡°Huh?¡± I turned my warty hand palm-up, summoning my Hero Core.
HERO Core v4321.61.7.5.34 || Pritchard || Lv 1 Goblin Classless || 0 EXP / 0 GP STR 9 || CON 7 || DEX 12 || INT 14 || WIS 8 || CHA 6 || 1 Attribute Point Available
¡°What!?¡± All my hard-earned experience was gone! All that work for nothing! Weeks of my life down the drain. What if my pick broke right then? What would they do to me? I hastily checked my tool, breathing a sigh of relief that it seemed in fairly good condition. Well. I¡¯d just have to work longer and build the experience back up. At least I¡¯d gotten an attribute point from it. Maybe I could increase my Strength and make the work a bit easier. My Hero Core began to blink, catching my attention. Grub was saying something about disabling automatic leveling, which was interesting, but not as much as the text blinking on my core¡¯s translucent, holographic display.
=Primary Class Selection Available= Barbarian (13 CON Suggested) Cleric (13 WIS Suggested) Fighter (13 STR Suggested) Rogue (13 DEX Suggested) Sorcerer (13 CHA Suggested) Wizard (13 INT Suggested)
Interesting. Looked like a set of pretty classic, er, classes. Notably stuff like Bard, Monk, Paladin, and Ranger were missing. I wondered if they were subclasses or if they just didn¡¯t exist in this world. ¡°Hey Grub,¡± I said, ¡°what class are you?¡± He grunted, and showed me his core.
SLAVE Core v4165.32.14.59 || Grub || Lv 6 Ogre Excavator || HIDDEN
¡°Good Slave Class,¡± he said. ¡°Bonus to sand dug. Bonus to find treasure. Proficiency for digging tools. But low level fifty cap.¡± ¡°Huh,¡± I said. ¡°Have you found any treasure?¡± He counted on his fingers. ¡°Three gems. Traded to Slave Core for experience. Excavator good class. Grub highly recommend.¡± Interesting. Not that I could actually choose Excavator, but for a Slave Class it didn¡¯t sound too bad. ¡°What happens if you reach level cap?¡± ¡°Start fresh for Prestige Class. Better abilities, higher cap. Or reset class, get feat. Feats very useful. But Grub no recommend levels. Tell core ¡°no accumulate experience,¡± or will take all work experience. You never leave here then. Grub thought Bitchard knew all this.¡± His eyes narrowed. ¡°Grub thought to level Strength and rebel one day. Grub was fool. Should have saved experience to buy freedom. Bitchard no make Grub¡¯s mistake.¡± ¡°Well I appreciate the explanation. Don¡¯t worry, I don¡¯t intend to level any more.¡± I disabled, leveling, banished my Hero Core and started walking toward the food line before it grew too long. I thought a lot that day, and that night, and the next few days, about what class I should pick. Each class suggested a primary attribute score of at least thirteen, and each also had a brief description of their abilities and features. Each sounded pretty useful and interesting. The logical thing would be to choose Rogue or Wizard, of course. I could use my one attribute point to raise Dexterity to the suggested thirteen, or to boost Intelligence to a relatively high fifteen. But all the classes sounded pretty awesome. Sorcerers could sort of make up the rules of their magic instead of using predetermined spells like Wizards and Clerics did, and both Fighter and Barbarian were really good at smashing things in their own right. As a Barbarian I could even fight naked if I wanted to, though I¡¯d be restricted to pretty simple weapons and wouldn¡¯t have access to the anime-level fighting maneuvers of a Fighter. And of course Rogues were great at stealing, sneaking, and assassinating. I might be able to escape the sand mines just by leveling Rogue a few times and using my abilities to sneak away. Then again, the slavemaster and a lot of the guards were werewolves, so they could probably just pick up my scent. All the classes were good choices, but none of them really stood out to me right then. Well, I had all the time in the world to decide. One day as we were digging, I felt a tremor in my wrist and yelped, almost dropping my pick. ¡°What? Did I get another experience?¡± Grub laughed. ¡°SIlly Bitchard, you never worked hard before in life? Exercise experience hidden attribute. Bitchard gained point of Strength from work. Must have baby strength to level from so little.¡± I popped up my Hero Core. Sure enough:
HERO Core v4321.61.7.5.34 || Pritchard || Lv 1 Goblin Classless || 8 EXP / 0 GP STR 10 || CON 7 || DEX 12 || INT 14 || WIS 8 || CHA 6 || 1 Attribute Point Available
¡°Woah!¡± I flexed my still-flabby, still-green arms. ¡°That¡¯s awesome. I bet I can dig even faster now!¡± If I could get my sand quota done even faster every day, I could spend the remaining bit of time helping Grub use his Treasure Excavation ability to try to find treasure. It was a slim chance, but he¡¯d offered to split experience rewards fifty-fifty with me somehow if I helped him. Enthused at the idea, I raised my now-seemingly-lighter pick and slammed it into a crack in the wall, expecting some bits of sandstone to fall away as I pried at it.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Instead, with a light hissing sound, a stream of fine sand began to trickle from the crack. I frowned. ¡°Hey Grub, is the sand supposed to be¡­¡± Grub bellowed and threw himself at me as the crack splintered suddenly wider, and with a sound like thunder mixed with a roaring river the tunnel began to collapse around us. My ogre companion had pushed me out of the way, but the rising sand was almost to his waist. He threw me over his shoulder and began to wade as stones fell from the ceiling around us and the wave of sand that had been waiting for a path of least resistance for who knows how long torrented at our backs. I could hear Grub choking as fine dust blew around us in clouds, and though my own lungs hurt I could think of nothing but panicked fear. The light of the tunnel¡¯s entrance was close now. Just a few more yards¡­ A section of the ceiling fell on us and broke upon Grub¡¯s back. With the last of his strength Grub hurled me toward the entrance, and I screamed as I was pelted by stones and buried up to my shoulders in sand. ¡°Help us!¡± I screamed. ¡°Someone, please!¡± There was a commotion outside. The slavemaster shoved his head through a hole in the collapsed entrance and saw me buried there. ¡°Hold on. We¡¯ll get you out. Who else is in there with you?¡± ¡°Grub, the ogre, he¡¯s¡ª¡± I heard a scraping at my back. I twisted my head as much as I could, and saw an arm sticking out from under some rubble, twitching and grasping and clawing at the sand. ¡°Grub!¡± Gruuuuub!¡± It stopped moving. ¡°GRUUUUUUUB!¡± It took hours for them to dig us out. I was kind of surprised they even bothered. Like, the overseers had definitely treated us better than I would have had any reason to expect, but still. We were slaves. I didn¡¯t look back at Grub¡¯s arm. I just kept my head focused ahead. I¡¯m not too much a man to admit I was bawling my fucking eyes out. When I had been extracted, two werewolves went in with a big plank to leverage the rocks off Grub¡¯s body. They had to partially transform to gather enough strength, hair sprouting all over and muscles bulging. I almost threw up when they dragged Grub out and flopped him onto the ground under the pale moonlight. His skin nearly glowed in the light, and after the slavemaster closed Grub¡¯s eyes, my friend almost looked like he was sleeping, were it not for the caved in ribs, shattered legs, and blood crusted around his mouth. When they stepped aside, I hobbled over to Grub¡¯s body, and fell to my knees at his side. ¡°He pushed me out of the way,¡± I whimpered. ¡°He threw me. I¡¯m only alive because he threw me.¡± The slavemaster stood beside me, and I was shocked to see sadness in his eyes. ¡°We¡¯re all slaves here,¡± he growled. ¡°We all look out for each other, as it is. Grub was a good man, for a slime-bellied ogre.¡± He glanced down at me. ¡°Sorry, kid. It happens. We¡¯ll bury him in the morning.¡± And the werewolves began to disperse. The ordinary slaves had long since departed. I put my hand on Grub¡¯s arm. It was cold. But then a window appeared above his chest, startling me.
The Owner Of This Slave Core Has Designated You As Inheritor Take Inheritance: 582 EXP / 4 GP
I gasped, and my heart began to pound, and it had nothing to do with the kind, final gift my friend had given me. The window had reminded me of something. I still hadn¡¯t chosen my class. I quickly flipped open my Hero Core and with trembling fingers selected the ¡°Cleric¡± class option. A description window popped up, the same one I¡¯d read a half dozen times now. Clerics are agents of the gods and other divine beings who govern reality. They invoke divine energy to heal wounds, cure diseases, break curses, pronounce blessings, and shine light in the darkness. They wield heavy weapons and armor, but are prohibited from wielding edged weapons. As they regularly communicate and curry favor with their deities, clerics possess the authority to invoke miraculous events in times of need. Some clerics of legend have even raised the dead to life. Firmly, I pressed on the Class Select button, and my world became dark. A mass of stars swirled around me, then, but they didn¡¯t seem to cast light on anything. A voice boomed in my head. A CLERIC MUST FOLLOW A DEITY OR SPIRITUAL MASTER, it said. WHO DO YOU SERVE, PRITCHARD OF EARTH? ¡°Whatever power brought me to this world, listen to me!¡± My shout rang through the nothingness, and some strange movement stirred in the great beyond. ¡°Fate, or God, or whatever you are, you chose me to come here for a reason! I¡¯m not dead like all the others because you¡¯ve got some purpose for me, right? Or was this all just a big joke!¡± I looked around, but nothing answered me. I lowered my voice. ¡°Please. Grub¡¯s the only person who¡¯s been kind to me in this shithole of a world. You clearly want me to do something for you. Bring Grub back and I¡¯ll do whatever you want.¡± I raised a hand. ¡°Promise.¡± The stars shifted and formed into a face, and I flinched away from it. But the face grew smaller¡ªor was it just further away?¡ªand was attached to a body with many arms and legs. The face itself seemed to have no features, but it was as though eyes and a nose and a mouth were there somewhere just outside the corner of my eye. "Thou seeketh to extract a promise from me, human?¡± ¡°Who are you?¡± I asked, heart pounding. It seemed to smile, though I could still see no mouth. ¡°Fate, or God, or whatever I am. I have brought thee to this world, human. I have indeed a role for thee in the cosmic game of which thou could¡¯st never know.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± I shrugged my knobby shoulders. ¡°Gonna be kinda hard to do that with this pathetic body, don¡¯t you think? The Dark Lord said if I was supposed to be anyone special I¡¯d have been incarnated in a better body.¡± ¡°For the Child of Red to allow thee to exist unmolested, suspecting nothing, it was necessary thou incarnate into the form of a goblin, the most pathetic of the creatures of Evil. Thou art weak, and cannot threaten the Child of Red, and yet are Evil, and so he hath no reason to kill thee out of turn.¡± Child of Red? Interesting title for the Dark Lord. I supposed what the¡­ being¡­ said made some sense. Didn¡¯t make my life with a tiny wiener any more palatable, though. ¡°All right. Sure. Like I said, I don¡¯t care what you want me to do. I¡¯ll do it, but bring Grub back.¡± I hesitated. ¡°C-can you do that?¡± ¡°Human, if thou knew what I can and cannot do, thou would weep for fear and for pity. If thou wish it to be so, we may contract in this manner. Know only that things will be set in motion this night that cannot be undone, if thou chooseth this condition. I ask instead thou choose a treasure, an omen, a power or portent of brighter days that thou may hope in the coming darkness. Choose any such thing and I will grant it, and it will be for better than this.¡± ¡°No.¡± My voice was firm, resolute. The being laughed. ¡°And so shall it be.¡± The world flashed into being around me again, and in my hand was a brand of light, and around my brow was a crown of fire. I was seeing myself from a distance away, and in the light of my hand and my crown and of the moon above, a halo of radiance illuminated the canyon for a great distance. My slave robes flapped in a howling wind, and the werewolves were running back to us. I had awakened many of the slaves, and they were rising, and rubbing their eyes, and looking on in awe from wherever they had been sleeping on the canyon floor. Eleven points of light in a circle sprang from Grub¡¯s chest, and began to connect with lines that formed a star or knot. I saw myself open my mouth, and raise my hands to the air, and the voice that boomed from me was not my own. ¡°Come thou from the shadowed halls, Gu¡¯rrub, son of Ho¡¯rrof, son of Re¡¯rris! Come thou on the lines of the sun to the land of living things! Be thou remade!¡± And fire sprang then from my hands and mouth, and flowed into all the holes in Grub¡¯s head. He began to twist and writhe and roar, and then sat up and took in the deepest breath I¡¯ve ever seen a creature breathe. And I was in my own body then, and had my arms around him, and was crying, and Grub was embracing me in return. ¡°Bitchard,¡± he said. ¡°Bitchard, I back, I back!¡± Behind me the werewolves were snarling and barking at each other with fearful and angry tones. I ignored them, pulling back from my friend and laughing up at the sky, at whatever power had tried to kill us both and failed. And then with a cracking bolt of black and reddish lightning, the Dark Lord was there, and he looked pissed. Chapter Five - The Dark Lord Returns To his credit, Grub recovered quickly from death. He gasped as the Dark Lord appeared before us in full smoldering plate, and pulled up his Slave core and began to stab at it with a sausagy finger. It took me a moment to understand what he was doing, but then I grabbed my friend by the arm and tried to talk some sense into him. ¡°No Grub, I just brought you back, don¡¯t you fucking die on me again!¡± He was turning on his leveling system again, and all that accumulated experience was funneling into a series of level-ups. Since Grub still just had a Slave Core he wouldn¡¯t be getting much by leveling, but there were still the attribute points to think about. And sure enough, Grub¡¯s muscles were bulking up before my eyes, and he was growing a little taller. ¡°Get off, Bitchard,¡± he growled. ¡°Grub wait years for this.¡± ¡°This is suicide, at my expense!¡± I shouted, my efforts ever more feeble as Grub continually strengthened. ¡°Grub¡¯s life to waste!¡± And then he shook me off, and scooped up my pick, and charged at the Dark Lord with an ogrey bellow of rage. The sand kicked up at his feet, and the werewolves were too shocked to do anything. Grub reached the Dark Lord, coming up a full foot shorter, and smashed the sharp pick¡¯s tip with all his might into his enemy¡¯s helmet. The tool shattered in Grub¡¯s hand, and the Dark Lord¡¯s own mailled fist came swiftly across in retaliation. He pimp-slapped Grub with a resounding crack, sending my friend sailing across the clearing to land head-first against a sand pile. ¡°Grub!¡± I shouted for what seemed like the hundredth time that night, and ran to the ogre¡¯s side. A bar had appeared above his head.
Unconscious. Bleeding. Death in 100 seconds.
I was pissed, of course. I had just spent a godly boon that could have gotten me a whole harem of tsunderes or a magic sword or something, and had given in nobly and heroically for my buddy, and he¡¯d basically spit on that gift within ten seconds. I grabbed Grub by the neck, hoisting his bleeding head up. His skull lolled on a broken neck, but I didn¡¯t really care. ¡°Oi, who¡¯s the bitch now? Seriously, Grub, he¡¯s gotta be level five hundred or something. Did you really think you were going to do anything to him?¡± I was, of course, flipping through my cleric spells in my Hero Core menu at the same time. I didn¡¯t have a ton of options at level one. I got to choose three ¡°orisons¡± from a list of twelve, but decided I¡¯d choose those later when I wasn¡¯t trying to wrestle a retarded ogre back from the brink of death for the second time in one hour. I also got two first-level cleric spells from a list of twenty-five. I grabbed the classic ¡°Cure Light Wounds,¡± and immediately understood how to use it. I just needed to touch Grub (check) and say something appropriately healy. ¡°Git gud,¡± I said, and a white aura briefly surrounded him. Bones snapped back into place, and Grub stabilized. He wouldn¡¯t be climbing any mountains any time soon (or, hopefully, fighting any Dark Lords) but he¡¯d live. That done, I turned back to the approaching Dark Lord, who I probably should have been paying a little more attention to. The slavemaster werewolf was groveling at the Dark Lord¡¯s back, wringing his clawed hands and talking really fast. ¡°I used the Message item right away, I swear, all this just happened right away, right after he Classed, I don¡¯t know anything about it, gracious Dark Lord please have mercy on a poor stupid slave like me¡ª¡± ¡°Shut up,¡± the Dark Lord said. He squatted down near Grub and I, and I resisted the urge to back away. I felt exhilarated, full of life, like nothing could stop me. I hadn¡¯t done anything wrong. I¡¯d just used the item the Dark Lord had given me. There was nothing to be afraid of. I was pissing myself out of excitement, not debilitating fear. That¡¯s my story and you can¡¯t convince me otherwise. ¡°So, goblin.¡± The Dark Lord flicked Grub¡¯s forehead as the ogre struggled to get back to his feet, knocking him out cold. I muttered a silent prayer of thanks. ¡°I see you finally Classed. Took you long enough. You do realize you were more powerful than almost every human slave here, right? I figured it¡¯d be a matter of days before you started killing everyone and taking their experience for yourself.¡± His helm turned slowly as he faced me. ¡°You could even say I was counting on it. ¡®Haha,¡¯ I thought to myself, ¡®someone who was dragged along when I summoned the most evil human of that world must be a devious and sinister person indeed.¡¯ Was I mistaken?¡± He patted Grub on the head, his black and red armor clanking as he did so. I was terrified that he would just grab onto Grub¡¯s head and rip it off, but he never did. ¡°This fucking idiot. Little worm. Did he tell you why I let him live?¡±Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°No,¡± I choked out. ¡°This worm used to be a guard in this very prison. Was next in line to become slavemaster. He led a rebellion with some of the other ogre guards. I killed them all in an¡­ extremely painful manner. This one, I let live. As an example. And a cruelty.¡± The Dark Lord laughed, and it was the most horrible thing I¡¯d ever heard. My hair didn¡¯t just stand on end, it nearly tried to crawl out of my skin to escape. ¡°The older ones, the ringleaders, they begged me to let the young ones go. They did what they were told, had bright futures, didn¡¯t know what they were doing. Et cetera.¡± His voice became soft, but though I didn¡¯t want to hear them, their shapes hissed perfectly into my ears. ¡°I gored them with their own blades, from youngest to oldest, until only this worm remained. Leader of the pack, as it were. I promised him I would never kill him, not with my own two hands. In fact, I would see to it he lived as long as possible with the burden of what he did.¡± That¡¯s so eeeevil! I wanted to shout, but it would have been a little redundant. ¡°Sooooooooo what you¡¯re saying is, you¡¯re not going to kick my teeth in for healing him right after you took the time to bitch slap him across the canyon?¡± I asked hopefully. He stood. ¡°Well. That brings me back to my initial thread of thought, goblin. See, I was hoping for some sign of savagery, of malice, of Evil. Instead, I see¡ªwell, one might call it a Good action.¡± There was a melodramatic gasp from one of the werewolf guards, and the slavemaster smacked him in the head. I coughed. ¡°Hey, even the most evil people need allies and minions, right?¡± ¡°Minion?¡± From the Dark Lord¡¯s tone, I could tell he was raising an eyebrow. ¡°He calls you Bitchard, I understand.¡± ¡°Just a little game we play,¡± I said quickly. ¡°But still, there¡¯s nothing necessarily Good about helping your mates, mate. I¡¯d be an idiot if I just went around kicking puppies and taking candy from babies. I gotta make people like me if they want to follow all the evil things I¡¯m gonna tell them to do!¡± I gave him as meaningful a look as a four-and-a-half-foot goblin can give a towering Dark Lord in high-tier plate armor. ¡°I imagine, my Dark Lord, you started out in much the same way.¡± There was a tense moment as I stared down the master of all evil, armed with nothing but my bare hands, someone so pathetic the Dark Lord could kill me a million times and probably never level up. He could crush me without a second thought. Blessedly, miraculously, ohthankyouJesusly, he began laughing instead, a much nicer one than before. ¡°Well said, goblin.¡± He snapped his mailled fingers, somehow, and Grub¡¯s Slave Core appeared and then shattered. In its place, a slightly brighter core appeared, one I guessed to be a basic Monstrous Core. ¡°Your¡­ minion¡­ is hereby released from his bondage. As are you. Go off and do some stupid shit. I¡¯ll be checking in periodically.¡± I let out a sigh of relief, and slumped down on the sand beside the still-unconscious Grub. Then I remembered something. ¡°Mr. Dark Lord, err, what happened to Sasha?¡± Visions of green titties danced in my head. ¡°Oh, she¡¯s been doing great. In the¡­ what¡¯s it been, six weeks? Two months? Whatever. In that time, she¡¯s burned six villages, enslaved a race of sentient spiders, and raped a grizzy owlbear to death. She¡¯s got levels in Rogue now. She uses two greatswords, Bitchard! Two fucking greatswords! How cool is that?¡± ¡°That¡¯s, uh, pretty sweet.¡± I was suddenly glad I hadn¡¯t gone with Sasha after all. ¡°I hope you don¡¯t expect me to get up to all that¡­ stuff¡­ right away.¡± ¡°No, of course not. You¡¯ll need to level a bit first. Probably clear a couple dungeons or something for equipment.¡± He raised a finger. ¡°Ah, that reminds me. You¡¯re a cleric. You could probably use this.¡± The Dark Lord pulled a black mace seemingly out of nowhere, tossing it to me. I yelped and grabbed at it with both hands, thankfully catching it before it landed on my foot or something. ¡°Th-thank you, Dark Lord.¡± I examined it. The mace was forged out of a slick black metal with red enamel inlay. Dark red cord was wrapped around the haft and tied in a loop on the end, probably so I could put it on my belt. ¡°I¡¯ll, uh, kill lots of stuff with it.¡± ¡°That¡¯s the spirit.¡± The black and red lightning began to crackle around him, and his form began to fade. ¡°Oh, by the way. Which god did you choose to serve?¡± Tension filled the air, though I didn¡¯t really know why. ¡°Oh, just the first one that would take me,¡± I said as bored a tone as I could muster. ¡°You guys have a weird pantheon. Nothing I recognized.¡± ¡°Hmmmm.¡± He fixed me with a glare for a moment, and then disappeared. Grub and I departed in the morning.
E N D O F P A R T O N E
Interlude One - Oh Daddy Sasha slammed the last of the elven priests face-first into the wall, and then dropped his collar and stepped up to the altar. There, embedded in the stone nearly to the hilt, was the treasure she had come to claim. She activated her once-per-day Rogue ability, Thief¡¯s Resilience, tripling her resistances and defenses for five seconds, and then grabbed the greatsword¡¯s hilt with both hands and began to pull. A shockwave of force slammed through Sasha, easily bypassing her enhanced saving throw and searing her flesh and bone with divine energy. Even with her tripled Holy Damage Resistance, Sasha screamed as her health plummeted. She strained against the sword, every muscle taut, pouring her anguish into a Barbarian Rage, and with one final roar the blade came free. The altar shattered, pelting Sasha with shrapnel, but she didn''t care. She leaned against the wall, breathing hard and shaking, staring at the 7% health she still had remaining. Sasha summoned a Potion of Cure Heavy Wounds from her Bag of Holding, quaffed it down, and then examined the greatsword she had won. Elfrist, the Fae-Cleaver. Runes glowed on its pitted iron surface, and the blade itself shone red as Sasha turned to the one priest she had left alive, the one now trying to play dead. It was in a lot of pain from its four broken limbs, so it whimpered more than corpses tended to. Sasha stalked over to the priest and grabbed him by the arm. She hauled him across the temple, ignoring his screams of pain, and threw him up onto one of the stone tables that surrounded the altar. ¡°We have a saying where I come from,¡± Sasha said, holding Elfrist close to the shuddering priest¡¯s face. Its glow brightened as it neared the creature. ¡°Anything¡¯s a dildo, if you''re brave enough. And you look like a pretty brave guy.¡± She banished Elfrist to her Bag of Holding, swapping it out for a handful of long, thick needles. Sasha began to scrape the tip of one of these against the tabletop right next to the elf¡¯s face, dulling the tip. ¡°But first¡­ I''m gonna do this bit just because it¡¯s fun. After we have our little acupuncture session, you and I can discuss the location of the Elvish Conclave. The manner of our discussion will determine whether you get my blade across your neck or up your pooper.¡±The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Oh daddy,¡± the priest moaned, which Sasha thought was a little odd. She placed her needle against the priest¡¯s flesh, and with careful technique began to apply pressure. *** Sasha stormed out of the temple, furiously wiping mixed bodily fluids from her face. She summoned her magic scrying orb, and sent a call to the Dark Lord. He answered on the third ring, and raised his evil eyebrows as he saw Sasha¡¯s condition. ¡°Oh my me, I told you to fuck those elves up, not to fellate them until they jizz blood.¡± ¡°I didn''t!¡± she growled, wiping semen from her left eyebrow. ¡°Those elves must think they''re so fucking clever, entrusting their secrets to a bunch of fucking masochists. I worked that cunt for two hours and he just kept calling me daddy. And I''m about seventy percent sure he drank a Potion of Horse Balls when I wasn''t looking.¡± The Dark Lord have her a peculiar look. ¡°I thought you were familiar with elves. You said you had them in your home world.¡± Well, she''d seen Lord of the Rings. For some reason Sasha hadn''t pictured Legolas having nipple rings and a tattooed taint. ¡°They''re different in my world. Graceful. Pure.¡± ¡°Yeah, well these elves are degenerate sex fiends. You really can''t torture them for information.¡± Sasha rolled her eyes. ¡°Fine. What should I do now, then?¡± ¡°Run through some woods or something. When elves are nearby, Elfrist will point the way.¡± The Dark Lord smiled in a way Sasha was still learning to imitate. ¡°I think you know what comes next.¡± Sasha dismissed the orb, wiped a bit of dried blood from the corner of her eye, and headed north. Being an evil bitch definitely beat trying to make everyone in her life think she was a kind-hearted thot bound for a shitty career in Marine Biology, but sometimes Sasha hated this world.