NOVEL SIMPLE B2 – Lesson 48: “Life’s A Stage…”
<< Alpha Log -
6952 SFY-Third Era, 6 standard months since Planetfall. >>
So, again you ask, ‘why bother with any of this?’
Why not deal with Icefinger's men myself?
Why not capture the Mud Drake on my own?
Why bother even trying to turn the goblins into a Federation Outpost? It's not like they can really offer me anything beyond manpower, and the ants cover most of that.
Good questions, my hypothetical interdimensional reader!
To put it simply, to set the stage.
As I am now, my estimates tell me I don't have the resources or equipment to take on Halirosa should they prove a threat. Oh, a couple of bandits here and there, sure; even the expeditionary force or Icefinger's men shouldn't be too hard to deal with alone. But if Halirosa itself decided to throw its full weight against me? I'm ashamed to admit I'd have to flee and start over… again.
Yaaaaa, not happening. I need a cover. Something to act as a shield until I'm ready.
To that end, I need to put on a little 'play.'
Sure, I could likely deal with all these issues myself, but Icefinger's men have their play their part, just as the Mud Drake does. A master doesn't pull on the strings of their puppet mindlessly; they pluck them and watch the puppet dance on its own.
What can I say? I learned from the best.
That said, keeping a consistent story straight when you're essentially winging things by the seat of your pants isn't easy. I don't even wear pants! Yet, one benefit of playing the part of an ancient being from another era is that most of my mistakes can be naturally written off as just 'from a different time.'
It's not that there aren't cracks if one looks hard enough. I just don't have the history, cultural understanding, and background knowledge to cover everything.
Thankfully, I've been able to find a few people who can help with that. The goblins still think me a Dungeon Core, but are more than willing to help fill the gaps where needed. While others, such as Dr. Maria, are quickly grasping the truths behind the veil.
I have even found a few ‘helpers’ from the most unexpected of places.
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Robert, Maggy, Garrelt, and Antchaser spent the next three hours at the rest checkpoint, well… resting. The fight to the small room had been rather intense, and none of them were quite ready to face whatever the dungeon had to throw at them next.
Or rather than the dungeon, they should say the Mud Drake.
"Do we really need to go farther?" Maggy asked. "We know what the issue is; can't we just turn around and call it a day?" She slumped against the couch. She still felt more at home in a lab than out in the field like this. While the dungeon was interesting, she would much rather study it in depth when it was fixed.
Robert sat across from her, cleaning his equipment with a small cloth. Wherever he wiped, the grime, dirt, and gore vanished, though the cloth itself never seemed to accumulate any of the filth.
"No can do," he responded. "If our goal is to capture the escaped drake, then we need to at least see the creature, if for no other reason than to confirm what we know. The first rule of adventuring; never assume you know the situation. More than one Adventurer has died because they rushed into a cave thinking they knew what was inside."
Garrelt laughed, "Or to the goblins." He flinched and gave Antchaser an apologetic look.
Antchaser just rolled his eyes. "It's fine. I'm quite aware of how… tricky our surface cousins can be. There's a reason the Deep Tribes stopped trying to civilize those savages millennia ago."
Maggy looked at Garrelt, then Antchaser, and back again. "What do you mean? Isn't goblin extermination one of the most basic missions? Surely they can't be that difficult," she asked.
Robert slid his freshly cleaned and polished sword back into his scabbard and turned to Maggy. "Yes, and no. While surface-dwelling goblins are often categorized in the same way as magic monsters and spirit beasts, people often forget that they are technically a sapient race. Savage, warlike, and destructive — in both nature and culture — but sapient, nonetheless."
He looked her hard in the eye. "With sapience comes wisdom. More than many would like to admit have been killed because they treated goblins like any other beast. Treated them as predictable."
Garrelt nodded. "The number one killer of rookies is underestimating goblins. Not that the Guild would ever publicly admit that, of course. Bad for business. But spend enough time in the Guild tavern, and you could gather enough horror stories from the old dogs to fill a book."
Antchaser spoke up as well. "The Deep Tribes have tales. Old tales of how the Deep goblins and the surface goblins were once one people. How we split differs in each story, but a common theme is that those who left for the surface were eventually driven mad by the sun, cursed by a life away from the tunnels and the earth. Most people just see them as stories to keep curious children in line and to their home tunnels. 'Wander too far and you'll be dragged to the surface by the Mad Ones to join the horde!' That kind of thing. But I always wondered if there was some truth to those old stories."
"I see…" Maggy stared at the three, her eyes wide.
Robert stood and clapped his hands. "The point being, an Adventurer must never underestimate their foe or assume they know everything there is to know. Information, above and beyond anything else, is our most important tool. With that said, how about we get a move on? Maggy does make a good point that we can't afford to waste too much time. While the Dungeon Core said that our allies have whatever is going on out there well in hand, it would set me at ease to confirm so myself."
The other three nodded and stood as well.
As one, they turned and headed for the door on the opposite side from which they had entered.
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The door swung closed with a thud, and the party walked into a… half-built army camp?
Or at least that's what it looked like to them. Unopened crates and pre-cut boards were piled between canvas tents and cold firepits. Despite being the first sign of civilization they had seen in the dungeon, the scene sent a chill down the Adventurer's spine.
The place was eerie, in a way. It had a cold, abandoned feel to it, as if its occupants were forced to flee suddenly. A thick dirt road ran down the middle of the camp and ended suddenly at the tree line. Several cut logs and piles of tools lay nearby where they had been dropped.
The group slowly made their way down the road, their eyes open and alert to any sudden movement.
"Think we should search around for clues?" Garrelt asked.
Robert frowned, but shook his head. "No… this looks like a set piece for the dungeon's storyline. Interesting, but not important to our immediate mission."
"Don't let them leave just yet! You need to head to the command tent!" Alpha suddenly spoke up through comms.
He worked hard on this part, dang it!
As the three Adventurers turned to walk further down the road, Antchaser called out, "Wait!"
The Adventurers paused and turned to the goblin. Thinking on his feet, Antchaser pointed deeper into the camp, toward the largest of the tents.
"I think we should check out the large tent there. Before the bandits broke the dungeon, I remember seeing documents there. If this place is related to the storyline, it might contain important information about the Mud Drake."
Robert and Garrelt exchanged a look and nodded. Robert gestured to the tent. "That's a good point, Mr. Antchaser. Very well, lead on then."
Antchaser sighed in relief and stepped off the dirt road, heading deeper into the camp toward the command tent. He wasn't actually sure if there really were any such documents in the tent, but Alpha obviously wanted them there for a reason. Antchaser just hoped he didn't end up making a fool of himself.
The trip through the camp was rather uneventful, though the scattered equipment and building supplies made for minor hazards. Much of it looked like what Antchaser remembered seeing in the bandit work camps, and in all likelihood, had just been repurposed for whatever Alpha was building here.
Ten minutes later, they stood in front of the large tent and admired it.
"I have no idea what this is even made of…" Maggy exclaimed in awe. She reached out and touched the smooth, cloth-like material. It was a molted dark green, with splotches of lighter browns and greens mixed in. Yet it didn't seem woven in any traditional manner she could think of. Coupled with many of the strange artifacts and devices she'd noticed scattered around the camp as they made their way here, part of Maggy was rather excited at the opportunity to dig into this dungeon's history.
One bad thing about living in a world where a single person can gain the strength to topple entire civilizations… was that unless you had such a person working for you, civilizations had a nasty habit of vanishing.
So many people, cultures, and histories had been lost to the annals of time and the whims of powerful Cultivators or Mages. Maggy had made it her life's work to dig up these lost secrets, and this place whispered secrets unlike any she had ever seen or heard of before.
"Well, now! Now that we're here, would you kindly show us these documents, Mr. Antchaser?" Robert's voice broke Maggy out of her daydreams.
Antchaser stepped forward. "Um… Ya… sure…" he said, scratching his cheek with his free hand and looking away. He really hoped Alpha had a plan, and he just hadn't wanted to show off the camp.
The goblin placed a hand on the tent flap, but an unknown voice called out before he could push it open.
"HALT! By order of the Queen, state your business!"
All four of them whirled around, their weapons ready, just in time to see a figure stepping out of the shadows of a nearby tent.
The figure of a human male in ant-like armor.