《Unlucky》Untried: Chapter 9
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Creeanth’s face was squished in thought as he surveyed the valley from its entrance. It had been weeks since Big Bossy Boss had simply vanished, taking with him the barrier that protected the valley from the Ranker Zone. At first, Creeanth had simply maintained order and ensured the valley’s defenses were on high alert, certain that Big Bossy Boss would return. That certainty hadn’t vanished, but the timeline had become less clear. Creeanth had seen both the way the boss fought and the way that he loved, and he knew the valley wouldn’t be deserted. Regardless of what had befallen his idol, he was sure he would come back to them.
After three days of remaining on high alert, the hobgoblins had needed some return to normalcy, and Creeanth had allowed it, with some modifications. Almost every single hobgoblin that had fought to defend the valley against Bart had gotten some type of combat skill, and he felt it was important for them to not only maintain them, but to grow them. To that end, he had divided the valley into 5 groups, which each took a turn guarding the valley one day in five. Thanks to Big Bossy Boss’s foresight, there were plenty of hobgoblins trained well enough to lead the divisions, in the form of the scouts who had been trained by the boss himself.
On three of the days when a division wasn’t responsible for the valley, the hobgoblins enjoyed normal life, the smiths smithed, the fishers fished, the miners mined and the gardeners gardened. The final day off was different however. Creeanth had witnessed how powerful the Quicksilver could be, both as a set of living armor and also in the form of weaponry, and he felt getting everyone in the valley an affinity for it would be essential to their survival. Because of this, each member of the valley spent one day in five moving the shiny metal from the dungeon to the surface, where they continued to coat the surrounding mountains to aid in their defense should another attack come. With time, he hoped that some of the more enterprising hobgoblins would even be able to replicate the cannons.
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Becoming the horde leader had impacted Creeagle personally just as much as it had impacted the valley as a whole. As expected, his physical body had grown with the new appointment–his height increasing by over 30%. Additionally, He had gotten 20 points that he could allocate by assignment–given that the sum of most Level 1 hobgoblins entire stat pool was under 20, this was a huge advancement for him. These 20 points were what made a horde leader so much stronger than those they led.
It was the accepted norm for horde leaders to put those points into Strength and Toughness, which is what helped their elongated frames bulk up and appear dominant to those under them. Creeagle was unsure if it was due to his already high Intelligence and capacity for flame-based skills, but he decided to continue to elevate his strengths rather than give into vanity, at least for the most part. He had put 15 of the points into Intelligence, while the remainder had gone into Strength. This meant that he appeared much less muscular than most horde leaders, but at least he would be able to defend the valley.
He felt like Big Bossy Boss would approve of the decision. Their valley of hobgoblins had always been abnormal, and further distancing themselves from the low-leveled, intelligence-lacking beasts they had once been was the only way they would survive in the Ranker Zone. He hoped that Big Bossy Boss would approve of all of the decisions he had made.
A flick to his ear broke him out of his reverie, and he turned to see the female responsible for the flirtatious contact smiling at him coyly. He had always known that the horde leader was held in high regard by the fairer sex of his species, but he hadn’t known just how aggressively he would be sought after. Being the horde leader was a lot of work, but this part he could get used to. He hadn’t garnered this much attention since his arms had first burst into fire, and he was loving every minute of it… He just wished the hobgobleness he esteemed above all others would take notice of him.
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Creenchez led the congregation away from the statue of the patron in silence. While silence was appropriate for the grandeur of the unveiling, it was inappropriate in its origins. She and those who worshipped with her weren’t being silent out of respect or reverence, but rather they were forced to be silent so they would go unseen. They had been restricted in their worship by that oaf of a horde leader.
Oh, he was handsome enough–the usually blocky and overly-bulky look of most horde leaders being replaced by the trim, lithe look of someone who was both a warrior and a scholar. In that regard she approved of him tremendously. If she was being honest, she approved of almost every rule he had put in place since leaving the valley save one. She and her followers couldn’t be responsible for guarding the valley or mining. They had a greater work to do that eclipsed any gained skill a thousand fold both in terms of importance and urgency. The groves needed to be planted.
They had just made a major breakthrough in production, which allowed them to plant more than 1000 trees a day, but it required all of their time. Why couldn’t that hunky chunk of green flesh understand that fulfilling the Quest given to Big Bossy Boss was the best way for him to come back alive? True, she hadn’t told anyone about Spiritual Tracking, which now showed their patron’s position to be in the middle of the Elite Zone, but how could she? The difficulty of surviving in such a place was beyond anyone under Level 75, let alone someone under Level 20. The only way she could help was to complete the quest and hope that the rewards would be enough. It was something that Creeanth would never understand though. He had the noble heart of Big Bossy Boss and would focus on protecting the lives of the valley over anything else.
So the task of saving Big Bossy Boss had fallen to her, and she wouldn’t fail him.
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8 125A Taste for the Finer Things
Dave was shattered, emotionally and physically after a car accident destroyed his throat, and his dreams of being a singer. While in the recovery ward, an advertisement recommended vr as a place he'd still be able to sing. Excited he had the doctors make the call and put him in. Not planning to actually play much, he rushed through character creation, just asking for something that could sing and ignoring the warnings. It was only afterwards he realised he'd ended up as a monster. How does one balance the pursuit of fame and hiding ones actions? Find out in "A taste for the finer things" This is based off an idea off the five minute synopsis I wrote in the RoyalRoadLegends Discord Cover generously provided by Vsolon https://royalroadl.com/fiction/18430/a-world-beyond
8 82I'm a Veteran Adventurer in a World without Healing Magic.
It's a fantasy world just like any other, orcs, elves, monsters, adventurer's guilds... Just one catch, though: there's no such thing as healing magic. Get a nasty wound from the monster you're fighting? There's nothing to patch you up, not so much as a red potion or a cure light wounds spell! All you can rely on are mundane medical procedures to help you get back on your feet. And those don't come cheap! You can probably guess that injuries that in other worlds would be minor are rather costly in one where the priest class doesn't exist. What kind of dungeoneering community springs up in an atmosphere where a simple cut can mean lethal infection? How do dungeon crawlers find workarounds when conventional combat proves too dangerous? A veteran warrior who senses his time is near puts to pen a final record, a shocking tell-all about his adventuring career...
8 141Nature's Kingdom
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8 291Saga of the Jewels VOLUME ONE COMPLETE
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8 395Magic of Paris circa 1995
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