Chapter Two - Part Two

The forums on the Official site had another name for the Jungle Basin of Barbarian Rock. They called it the Jungle of Abnormal Stats.

The name was very well deserved.

Arrow-head frogs with their vile poisons; Blood Hunters: Mosquitoes the size of rats, that used their needle like mouths to penetrate armour and drain you of your health to just replenish their own while causing bleed effects. Some even carried crippling diseases that could only be removed by purification spells.

Mana Leeches that silently drained every last drop of your mana pool and de-buffed it's regen rate and Lighting bugs; fire-fly's the size of golf balls, that would give you shocking tackles or flash burns before exploding in a blinding pulse of light.

There were Carnivorous plants that used their barbed vines to inflict paralysis so you couldn't resist as they manoeuvred you into their digestive pots or sprinkled sweet pollen to charm you, so you walked deliriously in yourself. Lunar moths whose wings spread sleep inducting scales; various colourful mushrooms that danced up clouds of spores with excited jiggles, spores that caused hallucinations or fear and Great bats with confusion inducing clicks.

Using their echolocation to disable and hunt their prey.

(Z***t used supersonic. AN: Damn it's Mt Moon all over again)

Not to mention the menagerie of beasts whose claws could tear through armour and cause lacerating bleed effects or the roaming bands of ogre's with their shrewd intelligence and their phenomenal strength that could stun, knock you down or knock you back with every blow.

Tiki gnomes; diminutive dark shamans that spouted nothing but vile black curses.

It was due to the hassle of hunting in such an environment that most players avoided it and even new Barbarians would instead choose to climb down to the Lasalle plains then descend into this madness.

Because very few players ever bothered to come here much of it remained unexplored. But even the lure of undiscovered dungeons and rare loot didn't even tempt the professional gamers to challenge the most aggravating stretch of dense jungle on the whole of the Versailles Continent.

However some players disagreed.

They reasoned that a well geared party could easily overcome it and it challenges served as good training for some of the known dungeons; each with their own status inflicting inhabitants.

But all agreed that the single worst thing in the jungle were the Jungle Fiends. They garnered a special kind of hate from the player base all their own.

By now Ogre had hunted most of the above mentioned jungle flora and fauna so it should have come as no surprise when in response to another of his wayward wild pitches into the jungle darkness, two figures stepped out from behind nearby trees.

They were at least two metres tall; with pure obsidian skin stretched tight across a gangly frame. Instinct however told him that they weren't weak, their thin bodies rippling with the tightly packed steel sinews of apex predators.

They were built to hunt.

Their faces were covered by large intricately carved black wooden masks but through the slits glared eyes so white they almost glowed softly and poking through the circular mouth hole, like a puckered sphincter, was a circular mouth lined with savagely jagged teeth that angled in towards each other. A dark brown leather long loin cloth was all they wore and hung from the waist band of it were several worn leather pouches.

It was quite frightening sight to behold these arresting figures who loomed out of the darkness, like death itself had come for him.

'Jungle Fiends......' Jon's mind momentarily went blank before it kicked in to high gear at a small 'Pfft' sound.

He reflexively raised the solid wooden club to guard his vitals; Heart, neck and face.

Two perfect long black needles appeared, impaled along the smooth polished surface of the club. The ends imbedded in the wood began to sizzle and smoke a little.

'Poison!!!'

Thankfully he had just been able to recall some of the limited information he had read that was posted about them. "They prefer to ambush their prey with poison darts before going in for the kill if they can't bring it down from cover."

Ogre roared fiercely and made to charge the two in the tree line.

A third broke cover, flinging a small leather pouch at his face, while charging to meet him.

Had it been a few days before he would have had no way to deal with this ranged assault but now he had the means to fight back. With a quick snap of the wrist from an under arm throw he loosed a quick stone shot. When it impacted the pouch exploded into a cloud of multicoloured dust.

That quickly dispersed on the breeze.

Another couple of wrist snaps, as he continued to rush forward, emptied his hand of the stones he had been holding before the combat began.

They soared off to distract the two Fiends who had withdrawn into the shadows slightly to ready a salvo of darts. They dealt them heavy blows slightly off centre mass. It was just enough to disrupt their attack set up.

With his arsenal depleted he tightened the grip on his club, the knuckles of his left hand blanched white.

Jungle Fiends excelled at covert hunting thanks to their foot long hard wood blow pipes. From these they shot, with incredible accuracy and deadly precision, the needle mouths of Blood Hunters filled with the poison of Arrow-head Frogs. Their natural skin tones made blending with the shadows of the jungle undergrowth even easier. The perfect silent long range killer.

If that failed to deliver results they would charge the target to engage in close combat. At mid range throwing pouches full of strange debilitating jungle magic to weaken their prey.

The barbed bulbous end of a plant vine snaked towards him but Ogre had already dealt with those plants before and knew exactly how to handle them. He batted away the thick bulb before it could ensnare him.

'They also carried a length of paralytic vine to use as a whip! Well as long as it doesn't hit me there is no risk of triggering the status effect.'

By now he had engaged the first target, they had both covered the distance remarkably fast.

The Jungle Fiend swung his blow pipe like a short club aiming to stun or thrust it like a staff trying to unbalance Ogre by disrupting his stance.

Regardless Ogre simply just continued to swing his club fiercely.

Unfortunately for him Jungle Fiends hunted the ogres that lived in the jungle. They had confidence in their speed that was built from years of dodging the powerful blows of the other Masters of the Jungle. They also had a natural resistance to magic, so much so that they could more or less shrug of the ordinarily crippling black curses of Tiki gnomes.

So what were Ogre's wild swings to them? The wide arcs and big movements were child's play to avoid.

Another wild swing swept from left to right as the Fiend ducked easily under it. However it had grown complacent, cocky even, so didn't see the next strike coming.

Without changing the angle of his club Ogre executed a downward motion.

Had it been a back hand swing then no doubt he would have leisurely ducked under it but this unexpected action threw his timing off and he took the strong pommel strike squarely in the face. The two in the bushes watched silently as their companion was slammed into the ground.

"Come at MEEEEEEEE!!!!" Ogre bellowed, spittle flew in their direction and his face reddened, neck muscles straining to their limit.

A ripple of rage broke the calm surface of the Hunters minds, before they knew it they had cleared the bushes like Olympic hurdlers. Sprinting to meet their enemy head on.

When their pouches were deflected into the bush. They pulled out the claws of beasts and began to slash at him with a capoeira like movement. Their natural karambit knives shredded his skin and caused deep cuts to open up.

Ogre clenched his teeth, to ignore the pain because he had a target now.

When they were on their feet they were definitely faster and more agile than he was, they could easily dance around his blows while slowly bleeding him dry but now one of them was laying face down in the dirt.

He didn't care about the two carving up his body, no he was more focused on their buddy in the prone position. He staggered towards him, his steps unsteady as the other two continued their assault. Soon he stood over him and with a wicked smile drawn on his face, Ogre took his club in both hands and raised it high above his head.

They sensed what was about to happen and sped up their Dance of Carnage hoping to slow him down even a little, just enough for their brother to recover.

He never got the chance.

Undaunted by the blood flying around him, that spurted out with each new cut, Ogre brought the full weight of the War club down on to his foe. Throwing his whole body into the motion, he even bent his knees before the moment of impact to add acceleration to the damage he was to cause.

The Ball head struck.

The Fiends body spasmed.

The jungle became quiet as the sound of the sickening squelch travelled through the trees.

A small blue window appeared before Ogre to tell him his > had Crit as the body disappeared into grey smoke.

Frozen by fear or from witnessing such brutality the other two were slow to react to the follow up swing as Ogre began Round 2 of their brutal bloody battle. Covered in blood and deep wounds the Barbarian rampaged around the clearing until the two Fiends exploded into smoke and experience.

He let out a victorious Roar that turned into a laugh, more innocent sounding than should have been possible for this incarnation of destruction and slaughter.

When he calmed down he collected the spoils of victory into his bag and opened his character screen.

This last hard fought victory had pushed him over the last hurdle to reach level 10. He was about to distribute his new points when he noticed his life bar blink green. The usual red bar had depleted to its lowest level yet and as he watched it every few seconds it would blink green and shave off a little more health.

Realisation quickly took hold as he noticed a small icon that was ticking down, with each tick more of his meagre health was lost.

He quickly checked his body and to his shock, there dangling from his blood soaked thigh was the unmistakable black needle dart. He ripped it out and began searching his inventory for the one item that might help.

'Poison! F***!! Where did I put that antidote?!?!'

Panic drove him quicker to his demise and only just as he grasped the small vial, uncorking it with one flick of his thumb, did the screen suddenly fade to black and a window appear.

-: You have died from Poison.

You will be unable to Login to Royal Road for 24 Hours

23:59:44:00 :-

Jon threw open the door to the capsule and swore as loud as he could before pacing in the dark of the basement. He threw a quick glance to the capsules on either side of his own, their lights were still on so his parents were still out questing. The clock on the wall chimed as he stretched and headed upstairs.

The next day or two at work would be difficult without his outlet but at least when he got back in he could grind away his frustration as he regained the skill levels and levels he had lost upon death.

Back to Main Page