《The Guild of Black Sheep》Chapter Fourteen: The Treants's stand (2/3)
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After the ogre swang, the orcs- once recovering from the shockwave- attacked. Four balls of fire flew towards us as a crowd, which were in sync with a ground tremor affecting all of us. The others charged with weapons drawn.
With S, Mask and Charles at the front, each had to do their own dodging amidst the ground beneath them shaking to dodge the magic. Mask’s escape was simple, as he used his speed to sneak behind the melee-weapon wielding hobgoblins, slashing one of the mage’s necks to a bloody pulp with his off-hand knife as he decapitated another with a single strike. S dodged it with her sword, now black with spots of crimson and using its broadside as a makeshift shield. One of the fireballs hit and exploded harmlessly in front of her, not even singing her armour due to how she spaced the swords. Finally, Charles somewhat cheated, using his own magic to summon a pillar of light, easily deflecting another.
Out of the final two, one was directed towards where Mask was, harmlessly passing through the centre and exploding on the wall behind, the last was aimed above, causing nigh molten rock to fall with the jagged stalactites it dislodged. The only one of significance however hit S’s helm and got redirected harmlessly off.
As Mask finished off the mage with the slit throat,- stabbing through its chest, crushing its ribcage as well as most of its organs-Charles and S met the four melee-wielding hobgoblins. The ogre was just standing there, waiting for its turn to fight the weakened foe, the other two mages fruitlessly aiming everything they had at the rogue who had just murdered half their number.
As the hobgoblins were barely stronger physically than orcs, their skin and bones weaker than their orcish counterparts, yet still were cocky enough to not wear armour. This meant that their attacks did little to charles’ damascus chainmail and even less to S’s mithril splint armour. Meanwhile, every attack S wasn’t using to parry their blows, hit without resistance. Her dragon-bone sword slicing through their skin, bones, muscles and organs as if cutting through air. Charles’ dragonbone mace leaving gaping wounds and massive dents in another’s body. A bloody mess was quickly made of three of the hobgoblins, the forth only being spared by sheer chance.
Morale broke, and as the last melee weaponed one tried to flee, one strike turned its head into a miasma of red mist. The ogre, as if looking down on its comrades cowardice, struck in with its massive club. Instantaneously crushing the head once contact between the two was made.
The two mages froze, giving Mask enough time to throw his sword at one of their necks and Jacq enough to evaporate its head with a black orb the size of an eyeball. Both fell before reacting.
Everyone then become redirected as the ogre screeched across the room. Once again causing shockwaves with a swing or two, which only managed to damage its own weapon. Its club now splintered heavily.
I shot a few arrows at its eyes, getting one through its pupil before it tried actually covering them. Charles and S carefully keeping their distance, although launching an attack or two on its torso every time I successfully distracted it. Mask unequipped his sword and dagger, bringing out two handfuls of throwing steel throwing knives to help the effort. Whilst Jacq did nothing, seeing its skin as more worthwhile than saving our energy.
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It couldn’t get an attack off. When it tried, no one was there for it to hit, and when it was focused on not letting me blind it, it couldn’t then react to the oncoming attacks from those it could actually hit. Even with its high recovery rate, it got damaged faster than it could heal itself- and in multiple areas simultaneously. It was a sitting duck, the damage became more mortal over time so as time ticked away, the anticlimactic fight simply ended.
Once so, we grabbed any resources remotely sellable, put them in my inventory and checked the tunnels for blockages. Regardless of the ruckus caused in the fight, the cave was stable enough that no tunnels got remotely cut off during the attacks. Calmly, we then continued down the linear path. The cracks in the artificially widened walls continuing.
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Going down another set of stairs, we reached another room. This one’s size comparable to the floors above, rather than the rooms. Inside was a small army of beasts and monsters surrounding a humble-looking tree which towered above even the ogres and trolls. The army was made of: five trolls which were the most visible aside from the tree, ten or so ogres, double that of orcs and a pack of wolves. Most of the wolves were about half as tall as the orcs on all fours, but the packs leader, a specific black wolf which mostly blended in with the dim room, was enormous. Dwarfing the trolls which were heads taller than the ogres.
They were silent, and although having weapons drawn, seemed to be on peaceful terms rather than excessively aggressive one.
“We don’t want to fight… we… just don’t want to die. Please… just leave,” a voice said. The sound coming from the back of the room where the tree was or somewhere directly around it.
“What is your race, and what is your goal?” Charles coldly asked back.
“P… please! I-I’m not a part of this! I-I… I just want to live! The others may wish to kill you in rage, but… I just want to be peaceful. I only have others here because I wanted to scare people like you off.”
“Are you willing to be removed peacefully, or not?”
“Why would I? What possible upside could trusting you monsters have!? To you I’m just a living drop, to be killed for a few bits of money… And that’s the same with the other treants, they just want to be spared the indignity,” they begged. Emotions, although already apart of their previous points, overwhelmed this statement.
“Are you going to surrender and leave with me, or fight now and die? You don’t get another choice,” Charles states coldly.
‘A… aren’t you being too cold Charles? We could just leave them be.’ S asked, both audibly and visually appalled.
“S, we can’t. All we know is the treant population as a whole has declared war on us all for not taking their claim to sentience seriously, and that this specific treant has been stockpiling monsters, like that.” Whilst explaining, she pointed to the wolf pack leader. “To not fight them would fail our mission, and under the circumstances, be foolish and allow their betrayal. As they say, trusting every siren will only lead to drowning. We are at least giving them an out, it’s up to them if they accept it.”
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“We refuse. You beasts are not to be trusted… if only you had just left,” they tone had no anger, their deep sigh as they trailed off instead pointed out disappointment.
Jacq, who had by now summoned her multiple skeletons, made them form a line with both Charles and S included. The clanks from their metal armour when stepping died out by the chaotic roars erupting from the other side, the foe charging without second thought.
Not holding anything back, Jacq proceeded to throw magic wherever she could. Her magic single handedly engulfing half the ogres into dark vortices.
Orcs then rushed down the distance, being far faster than their larger counterparts. Yet, they got no time to shine as they were mowed down by mainly Jacq’s summons faster than they could reinforce. Their number originally being twenty, fell to 4 before the first even got to swing at drawn blades already prepared to parry and block it. Without much more effort, the last orc fell with nought a scratch on anyone’s armour.
The larger lot didn’t even buckle for a second, and through a hail of leaves blasting through an artificial wind, the remnant ogres and all of the trolls reached the front line. Each smashing the ground with their weapons, attempting to crush whoever stood against them through sheer will.
As the fight was clustered on their side, their movements were hampered and due to being thinner in terms of width, our vanguards weren’t. Even if their attacks all caused minor earthquakes, missing our side’s members completely due sheer speed and space didn’t bode well for their victory. The leaves, unenchanted and not thorned, also served a non-issue. Only minorly affecting vision.
The rearguards did their job of keeping them busy, meanwhile Mask and I, using throwing knives and bows respectively, aimed for the attacker’s joints, eyes… and any other easily visible and exposed weak spots. This not killing any ogres, or doing serious damage, but would even cripple an attack, blind one temporarily or force them into a defensive stance due to being so packed side-by-side that dodging wasn’t an option. It was more effective on the trolls however, as, although they had thicker skin, their regeneration ability wasn’t as good. Meaning their joints and eyes remained unusable until after the chance for the vanguards to strike back fatally was given.
Although one or two hits did damage armour, the battle- due to the reasons above- went quickly and decisively to us. The trolls- although large targets with great strength- not getting any chance to do anything before getting crippled and killed, and the ogres stood out for longer, but the constant harassment by Mask and I was enough for the vanguard to whittle them down. Being bigger and stronger than the ogres before doing nothing to remotely help them.
As the final ogre died, a howl dominated the room. The floor shook, chips and pebbles from the walls flew inwards and stalagtites from all around the room crashed to the floor. The wolf now stood alone in front of the tree, baring its fangs as its legs bent.
I shot an arrow straight at it as its legs began to quiver. Before it reached, the wolf leapt towards the frontline in a blue. The two summons unfortunate enough be in its range flew backwards. Seconds later, two thuds slightly off sync could be heard from the corridor behind us.
The wolf simply turned, meeting a sword with its claw to its front and swatting away another with a flick of its tail with another. Blood now pouring out of the side of its neck.
Another arrow flew towards its back-left paw, as the others joined in on the combat; pouncing on it themselves every now and then yet keeping more attention to caution than damaging it. Mask, although throwing a few knives, gave up when they started rebounding of its fur. Instead, he wielded his bastard sword and fought with the rest. S and Charles, with the remaining six skeletons, formed a crude box around the wolf; keeping their strikes precise and as critical as possible.
With some well placed strikes, the wolf began to whimper. Both its back legs spasming as they spurted blood, and its tail not faring much better.
Using the last of its strength, it lunged towards one of Jacq’s summons who had dealt a successful blow to its snout, biting it with its jaw. The crunches of metal and bone overwhelmed other noises present, yet its neck was opened up to S and another skeleton, both swinging their blades overhead with jumping attacks.
The latter stopped at the bone, whereas the former went right through. Minimal but noticeable resistance given the the dragonbone sword. I snuck the valuable corpses of the wolf, trolls and ogres into my storage as the others reformed their line; all knowing the fight wasn’t over just yet.
Now only the tree was left, so Mask simply shouted, “Just give up, or die like them.”
“Nothing good can come from you, just fight me. You invaded my home and slaughtered my community,” they replied just as simply.
Although the main difference from the beginning until now was the lack of leaves of the tree, the stone floor also had bumps it hadn’t had before.
The treant, now knowing its fate, revealed their face and declared, “Now then, kill me or die. You have no other choice.”
Cracks then opened up in the floor, and roots of the same colour wood as the tree itself poked throw, soon towering above even the height of the tree itself, and as think as a person. Barbs and thorns accosted to its roots were so plentiful and thin, seen from further away the roots would have seemed fluffy rather than jagged and painful.
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