《Gemstone Goblins (LitRPG)》Herd 2
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“We are under attack!” Another man yelled! The goblins sprang forward to combat the enemies.
The people around the campfire got up drawing their weapons. Before they could advance, I launched my stone disks towards them, striking at their hands and legs, causing 2 of them to stumble and drop their weapons, one dodged by leaping and rolling forward.
“Bombarding Cannon Beryl!” Gatrom launched the crystal cannonball into the centre of the campfire, not hitting anyone directly. But the force from the explosion knocked the enemies to the ground, with the magical shrapnel piercing their armour and flesh. The goblins rushed in to execute the downed enemies. From atop the valley, shadowy figures emerged from small huts.
“What’s going on down there?” One asked, their drowsiness evident in their voice.
“We’re being attacked, you git!” Another yelled in a gruff voice. “Burning Rain!” He cast a spell above the valley. A small cloud appeared from thin air and swirled around the valley, crackling with fire. The burning cloud shot down a rain of fast embers, causing the grass to catch fire.
“You’re gonna kill the goats!” A feminine voice protested. “You idiot! This entire valley is going to burn!”
“The boss ain’t gonna be happy about this, let’s get out.” The gruff man said. Quickly, the trio fled, leaving us, the goats and the valley to burn.
Interface You gained 340 experience Experience 426/729
Before the fire could spread any further, I knelt to the ground and touched it. “Ground-Shaker!” I cast. The earth began to shift and crack, creating a magical trench preventing the fire from approaching us any closer. Luckily the fire hadn’t reached the goats.
The goats were in a panic due to the fire and noise, but I kept casting the spell and upturning the soil to put out the fire. As the chaos subsides, the goats' nerves were settled. We explored the loot left behind by the bandits. Unexpectedly, the crates were filled with some sort of dark blueish-green moss. Perhaps this was feed for the goats? Other crates had basic supplies with them, food, cloth, drink. The only equipment available were the ones on the dead bodies. Their armour and weapons were too big for us, but we could potentially melt it all down. The food consisted of typical rations such as dried meat, dried fish and bread. But there wasn't any goat meat, which meant these animals weren't being raised for food. Still, I could not complain about the extra supplies.
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Zotnik's skill could be useful for dealing with these goats. He took a piece of moss and gave it to a male. Initially, the goat was pretty nervous and tense, but eventually, it went in for a nibble and soon calmed down. These goats were very large, their height reached up to our necks, they were like goblin sized horses. The goblins began mingling with the goats, in awe of their beautiful fur and crystal-like horns. The goblins were petting and hugging the goats’ soft pelts, even I became slightly enamoured with their fur. Touching their horns gave me a similar feeling to when I first found a gem. The goats were generally quite docile and friendly.
One goblin recklessly jumped onto one goat’s back, yet the goat didn’t flail around or try to knock its jockey over. It remained docile. A bandit wouldn't have the temperament to domesticate a goat this well, they were clearly stolen. Another goblin wanted to test the goat’s strength, so he placed a crate filled with supplies onto one’s back, the goat did not even react.
All the goats were rounded up for a total count of 11, 5 horned males, and 6 ewes. All the equipment was loaded onto the goats’ backs, the random armour, the moss, everything, and they carried it with no problems all the way back home.
The tribe was elated by our new hoofed residents. The goblins stroked, petted and offered a piece of food to the goats, I expected their behaviour to be more... ravenous. The mystery was what to do with the crates of moss. The goats seemed to really enjoy eating it, but they were also satisfied with grazing. I tasted the moss, and it was extremely bitter, Voglo's experiments didn’t result in much.
“It looks like this is some sort of special moss, I’ve never seen anything like it. It seems like it got more mana than usual moss, but I need more time. Equipment made from clay is limited… to say the least.” He explained.
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Over the next few days, the goats became a significant target of adoration. The women of the tribe began combing the goats, extracting strands of silvery hair. Single hair on its own wasn’t anything useful, but one could shave these goats for their cashmere. However, we don’t have the equipment for that. A few of the craftsmen, including Olma, weaved the small strands of hair into some string, which they made into some bracelets and necklaces of string. Quite useless things, but I did not disapprove, it was good training for their skills.
Much to my surprise, the goblins took to milking these goats effortlessly, apparently, some had milked wolves before. I did not press for details. Regardless, these goats were producing an astonishing amount of dairy. The one ewe that I milked half-heartedly produced approximately a litre of milk, and it could definitely produce more. The flavour of the milk was earthy, but with a tinge of sweetness compared to typical goats milk.
Voglo experimented some more with the goats' milk, I gave him a rough approximation of what cheese was, and he eventually figured out how to make basic cheese. It was soft and had a more pronounced earthen flavour, which the goblins adored. But I was more impressed by the shaman's ability, rather than the actual cheese.
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Apollyon's Curse
Within the pages of folklore and fantasy, tales of people who chase after the dream of eternity, of living forever, rarely find a happy ending. They are either struck by the grim truth of reality, give up, and return to mortality or face a ghastly realization of their wishes. The latter often the worse fate, as they come to realize, only far too late, that what they sacrificed was worth far more than the time they gained. Ultimately, the common thread in these stories is that “immortality is as much a curse as it is a blessing”. People either realize it early and give up or are doomed to inevitably face its consequences. In the world Enrich lives in, that saying does hold merit. Every pathway towards eternal life has shackles of its own. They bring those high above down to the ground, evening the playing field. It is thanks to these fundamental laws that ambitious mortals are able to defy the heavens and achieve immortality themselves. The variety of methods result in each of these bindings varying in intensity and degree of freedom. Enrich’s path doesn't break this trend. Though, after what he did to himself, most wouldn’t even consider him a living thing anymore. On the day of his ascension, a world’s worth of souls were melted and recast. On that day, the human’s path had reached its conclusion, recast into Apollyon. An artifact, a weapon, is eternal, after all. As for the curse? The payment will be made, as it must. So why not offload the curse to someone else? Mortals throw their lives away for all manner of petty reasons, noble or otherwise, especially in desperation. Eventually, someone will be willing to foot the bill. Most will if given the chance. The bait is far too tempting, after all. Power, status, knowledge. All at their fingertips. If only they say “yes”. And Apollyon is very willing to help any lost souls. If they give up everything in return, of course.
8 116Nameless Hypocrite
"Bastard, surrender yourself!" "You think you can escape our encirclement?!" "An omnicidal fiend like you can only atone in death!" Despite his precarious situation, a young man ignored the union's provocations. His violet robe was in tatters, showing the incredible number of attacks he received, yet there was no sign of injury. Noticing the light smile tugging at his lips, the pursuing heroes warily watched him, cautious of a final attack. It was only by working together that they could corner a monster like him. An arrow pierced the air, beelining towards the young man. A malicious gleam revealed itself in his eyes; he unsheathed his sword, a long, curved blade, and deflected the projectile, spiking it into the ground. The archer's eyes widened before being split in two. He died suddenly and indignantly. The group backed away; their former confidence diminished greatly by the invisible counter. It was then that the young man sighed, his voice full of lament and self-pity. "Being a saint truly is difficult, even the world cannot understand my righteous actions." The expressions of the surrounding heroes turned ugly. Such blatant hypocrisy! Yes, the protagonist is a villain. We don't do morals here. New chaps when I write them
8 177Breaking Point
Almost dying does something to you. Living alone in a forest from a young age does something to you. Growing up with almost no memories of who you are does something to you. Having to survive amongst horrifying monsters does something to you. One of these things changes a person. Two of these twist a person. Three of these breaks a person. Four of these remakes a person.
8 122Hearm Jan's Short Stories
Please peek and enjoy. My various short stories that will not become a novel. :) I'll post them here slowly.1. From my previous, Shaky Seedy Spicy Story-Spumy.2. My various Flash Fictions: And Many more! @[email protected] not actually, I'm doing ZM for a moment :)
8 181I Love You to the Moon and Back.Isen x reader
It's just a normal day at Wellston when John's long lost sister shows up. She was taken by their mother so she could be trained and master her ability to use her as a secret weapon for Ember. She is on the run from her mom and keeps here power a secret to keep her safe. She soon takes interest to her friend Isen. Will they fall in love, or will her mother find her, and take her away again.
8 202Wrong number kid
Just a classic wrong number story ----Y/n lives with her abusive father *cough* sperm donor *cough* and brother. She accidentally texts the Tony Stark and of course she has no idea because she is y/n after all. ----Just saying that this is my first avengers and texting fic but I'll try my best. Also I don't own any of the avengers obviously, just y/n and her two friends from school.I only own y/n the rest don't belong to me obviously.-----Also this might be triggering for some people so um it's up to you if you actually read it--UNDER EDITING :))( if i get around to it)
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