Ashlani’s Reincarnation [a LitRPG Adventure]

The new Allmother has been born. She has yet to open her eyes after forty moons, but her first cries after birth were the final Phrase of the Words of Narsha’at on her tongue. We are sure that once she does open her eyes, they will present the Bloodsoaked Mother’s blindness; thus we are asking that five of the most senior Bloodpriests and priestesses return to Dunbach to mentor her in the other Words of Power. You are summoned, and will spend one moon of ten sharing your teachings with the young Mother.

–Summons from the Allmother to Bloodpriestess Ana of the Samutelia

The packs all around me ranged out without allowing any individual to be outside of the range of immediate support of several of their fellow packmates. It was glorious to see so many willingly following my commands, and I noted a couple more individuals joining in as my “followers” within my [Status]. The smart and methodical part of me screamed at my foolish haste, that it was just a question of time before I would evolve to a Brood Alpha and there would be tangible benefits that would absolutely help me on this hunt… But I was finding that I cared less and less about that. 

I couldn’t say whether that change was from my own rage or my keelish mind influencing me, or maybe even the [System] or Administrative Body pushing me to greater recklessness and foolishness, but I simply needed to keep moving, keep fighting, keep growing. Waiting, patience simply wasn’t an option.

Foire was the one of the pack that had initially found the wolfstag sign that had led us to fleeing the area the first time, and I trusted him to be at the forefront of the entire hunting expedition. I wondered if his evolution was related to mobility or scouting since he hadn’t grown much in stature yet had still obviously benefitted from an evolution of some sort, plus he’d definitely qualified for [Exceptional Individual] prior to the latest growth spurt. Foire, for his part, took his position absolutely seriously, constantly scanning the ground and the surroundings while pointing out to some of the members of his pack things to look out for. 

Along the edges, I had everyone keep their eyes peeled for any sign of warmth or movement, trying to make sure there wasn’t any tunnel-visioning like the last time. We could kill a wolfstag, or even several, so long as we knew where they were and were coming from. After maybe an hour’s journey within the wolfstags’ territory, Foire called for me. As I approached, he pointed down and spoke.

“Tracks. Maybe two, maybe three. Smaller than the one we killed. Maybe five smaller than that.”

Other than his report, Foire didn’t give any opinion or guidance, simply providing his findings. 

“All together?”

Flare of his frills. 

“The smaller ones. Are they the size of those that Percral’s pack encountered?”

“About. Slightly larger.”

Maybe from the same litters then. At most eight wolfstags, three less threatening than the one we’d already killed, and the others weak. A grin spread across my face as I gave the command to continue but to go as near to silent as we could manage. The hunt was on.

We made our way onward with as much stealth as we could muster, ears and eyes peeled to see whatever we could. Foire again was the first to sign that he saw something, and with my heart beginning to thrum excitedly within me, I stepped forward. He pointed, and in a clearing ahead was a pair of Scaled Deer. I began to deflate as I saw that they weren’t our planned prey, but before I could turn and begin to give commands, Vefir caught my attention and directed me to look across the meadow to the brush ringing the opposite side.

There, I could see a couple flickers of warmth hunched and flitting through the undergrowth. As I continued to watch, I realized that the movements we were observing was a pack of young wolfstags. I couldn’t tell how many they were, but there were definitely multiple. Urging the rest of the pack to quiet down, I continued to watch. The wolfstags were definitely hunting the scaled deer grazing in the clearing, and hopefully they would make their move without trying to loop all the way around the clearing to our side.

The scaled deer were covered in scales from nose to tail, the thick, interlinking armor giving a surprising amount of protection from arrows, as I knew. I’d never had to try to bite through them, but I figured that it wouldn’t be easy. Watching further, I could tell that the wolfstags were beginning to ready themselves to rush their prey. And they had no clue we were there. We were in perfect position…

Suddenly, there was some noise from the opposite side that immediately had both scaled deer peering over, startled. They were about to begin bolting when several bodies came rushing out of the brush and charging towards them. Immediately, the deer began to flee, but the voltaic wolfstags were able to draw on some of the speed of lightning and, with a literal flash, they were on the deer’s flanks. The rumbling of thunder accompanied their frantic bites and the predators obviously tried to quickly take their prey down. There were sounds of crunching teeth on bone and scale alike, and then the pained screams of the deer. 

Observing the wolfstags tearing into their prey, I was happy to see that there were indeed five smaller wolfstags trying to fell one of the two deer, while one larger one, maybe thirty or so inches tall at the shoulder, attempted to dispatch the other. Another of the larger specimens stood near the small ones and supervised their hunt. There wasn’t a third of the large wolfstags, just the two, making seven total. Seven against our forty nine. 

I eased myself into a ready position, waiting for the wolfstags to relax themselves before leading my pack to the hunt of the hunters.

It wouldn’t be long…

Thanks for reading! The Chinese saying “The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole.” came to mind as I wrote this. 

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