Runeblade-B3? Interlude 5: Strange Tidings

Dvei stalked forwards, using his greatshield to push through the long grass while he kept his morningstar held and ready. They’d learnt the hard way that outside of the sturdy walls of settlements, nowhere was safe.

The early morning sun did little to cut through the biting winter chill, every step forwards paired with the crunch of last night's frost.

A low rise was up ahead, covered in a thicket of trees.

It was the start of the small woods that homed their target—a pack of beasts that had proven troublesome enough to nearby trade routes for the governor to sponsor a guild mission.

He kept his eye on the ash tree half way up its slope. Even if he couldn’t see anything, he knew that his ranger—Han—would be lying in wait.

Han had gone ahead to scout the danger last night, and had found that the beasts had nested in a small clearing just a few hundred long-strides into the tree line. Now that they were ready to begin their assault, the man was keeping a steady eye on their targets.

Eight days of crossing the Frontier, three of scoping out the threat and they were right at the precipice—a journey which had already netted him a level. In just over a week!

It was almost enough to make him enjoy the hellish explosion of monsters. Almost.

Not even the explosive growth they’d seen in the past year was enough to overshadow the nauseous churn he felt in his stomach before every battle. Part excitement, part dread, he had long since become familiar with it in the seven years since he’d received his class.

After every mission, he questioned if he’d made the right choice as a young lad. Every brush with death weighed heavily, building on the last. The losses too, as blessedly rare as they were.

Still, in the end, it was a hard life to turn away from—what with how lucrative delving was.

This mission he felt better about. It was a good fit, for him and his team.

Jinto beasts, the report had called them. Mostly physical abilities, mammalian, and only as large as a big dog.

The pack had been confirmed by a guild scout team just over two weeks ago, and he’d snatched the posting just about as soon as it had hit the missionboard.

Given the fact that the report had been written by scouts—instead of a merchant who was trying to downplay the severity to save some coin—and that the beasts level had been confirmed a few short weeks ago, he was fairly confident that the estimate on their abilities would be close.

Just over ten creatures, with an average level in the mid seventies. Fifteen monsters and a level in the high eighties was what he’d drawn as their limit, so they had plenty of wiggle room before they’d be caught in the shit.

Keeping his eyes roving for movement, Dvei’s thoughts drifted to their promised reward.

With the mission rewarding enough coin for them to get one-fifty gold each, he would finally have enough for that Rare chest plate he’d had his eye on.

It would be his first piece of gear so valuable, one that he hoped would bolster his ability to keep his team safe. Three times a day, it would let him restore a large chunk of his health and stamina—vital, considering they lacked a healer and there wasn’t always time to quaff a potion.

The fact it would cut down on their operating expenses only made it more attractive. He just hoped it would still be at Artifice and Arms. Jin might have been legendary for his uncommon honesty, but one thing he would not do is reserve stock—even with a downpayment.

Huffing softly, Dvei shook himself out of his thoughts when a crouched figure seemed to melt out of the crown of the ash tree he’d been watching. Han, raising his hand to grab his attention.

Crouched in the boughs of the tree, the ranger’s eyes were still focused ahead, though Dvei saw them flick in his direction every second or two.

He raised his morningstar, signalling he’d seen the ranger’s sign.

As soon as Han saw his acknowledgment, his free hand blurred into a sequence of battle-signs.

Twelve targets. Roughly level eighty.

Dvei breathed a sigh of relief—but didn’t lower his weapon. He could relax back when he’d gotten everyone home safe behind the walls.

Turning back, he saw the rest of his team waiting in the shade of a lone tree. Maelea, another heavy-fighter like himself, was wrapped in a mismatch of plate and chain. Nearly six strides tall, her calloused hands were choked up tight under the head of her double-sided axe.

As reliable as ever, Maelea was alert and ready to defend the last member of their troupe at the first sign of trouble. Garth—a glass mage whose attitude was as sharp as his spells.

When their battle started, that job would fall to Han, but only an idiot would let their mage wander around unprotected—and even if he was sure that their surroundings were clear, he wasn’t the sort of leader to take risks.

Catching their eyes, he hung his morningstar from his belt and signed for them to come forwards.

Targets located. Strike soon.

He was glad he’d gone through the effort of talking his team into learning the battle-cant. Every one of them had been reticent to say the least, insisting they’d be able to afford a communication artifact soon enough. Well, everyone except Han, but he suspected that the man had just been eager to have another excuse not to talk.

Dvei shook his head at the memory. Sometimes he thought his team was suicidal.

Even if they had an artifact, or one of them developed a communication skill, he’d still have insisted on it.

People died, artifacts could be blocked or broken, and this way everyone could communicate vital information silently.

“Well, are we finally doing it?” Garth asked impatiently.

Dvei frowned at the man, displeased with the noise he made so casually. That, and the fact that he’d literally just told him they were—he’d made it clear that if Garth didn’t pull his weight, or listen, he was out.

The mage was good, it was why he’d picked him after Eirn—their old metal mage—had lost the stomach for battle, but Garth’s constant disregard for proper procedure was making him second guess that decision.

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Fucking Bloodsong, ruined all too many good delvers who didn’t have the discipline to keep it controlled.

Even If Garth mostly kept to grumbling and thick-headed questioning of rules he didn’t understand the reason behind, Dvei wouldn’t hesitate to kick him out if he showed any deeper signs of that flaw. He had no interest in ending up dead at the hands of an overconfident fool.

Standing behind the mage, Maelea rolled her eyes at Garth’s words—an action that forced Dvei to school his expression. As the leader, he had to hold himself to a higher standard—regardless of his empathy for the warrior’s frustration.

“Come, let's see what Han has for us.”

….

Dvei let out a furious bellow as he threw his weight behind his shield. Despite the tide of baying jinto’s that rushed at him, he stayed clear headed.

Responding to his will, Stamina flowed into the shard of power that was Hardened Bulwark—one of the two Uncommon skills he had received from his class.

Deep in his soul, the skill flashed with inner light. Power flooded his shield, a thick haze extending from its edge, extending its surface and anchoring him deep into the earth.

A howling blur of black fur and thick teeth slammed into the slab of steel, sharp claws screeching as they slid ineffectively against its surface. Anchored as he was, Dvei was unshaken as the beast ran into him at a full sprint, whining as something deep within it crunched.

Shoving the weight of the beast back, he disengaged his skill and opened his guard. With the beast stunned, he brought down the heavy weight of his morningstar on its skull.

Only to feel an unsatisfying thud as the beast’s fur flashed silver, rebuffing his attack with a skill.

Gritting his teeth, he snapped his shield back in place before the jinto or its packmates could bear down upon him.

Safe once more, he slammed his weapon against his shield—a gong echoing through the clearing as he burned more Stamina to draw the beast's focus his way.

Maelea moved as he did so, flowing around him as she spun her two-handed axe through the air as if it was a reed.

The weapon’s edge fogged—hoarfrost coating its surface as she brought her axe down in a brutal chop on the stunned beast's neck—cutting deep.

It fell limp, spine cut clean through. With the most immediate threat finished, Dvei was free to focus on the rest of the pack.

He knew he could trust Han to finish it off.

Hunkering beneath his shield, Dvei charged—Shielded Advance yanking at the minds of the nearest jintos so that they were compelled to meet him head on. Propelled by unnatural force, he couldn’t help but grin as the beasts yelped as he hit them like a maul—sending them sprawling with bone-cracking force.

“Kill!” Han crawled out from behind him, his call cutting through the steady bellow of Garth’s chanted spell. A signal that the first of the pack had fallen.

Dvei didn’t call back—he didn’t have to. Wading into the fray, claws and bites slipped off his armoured form—the small bruises and blunt wounds they left in their wake washed away by the slow and steady trickle of his Health that burned to keep him in fighting shape.

Managing the attention of the pack was like trying to sail in a storm. His lungs heaved like a blacksmith’s bellows, muscles aching as he heaved his greatshield to intercept a dozen different snapping bites.

Despite the strain, he stayed steady. There was a rhythm to battle, one that he knew well, and trusted to keep him safe.

Every handful of blows that he rebuffed, he returned with one of his own—only striking when he was absolutely certain that doing so wouldn’t allow one of the beasts around his shield. He left the killing blows to Maelea and Han, instead focusing on crippling the beasts where he could—the heavy steel of his weapon only needing a few blows to shatter their bones.

As he riled the pack into a fury, Maelea flowed around his sides—her axe leaving trails of fog in the air as she cleaved through flesh—slowing the beasts further, and killing one out right.

“Kill!” she called out loudly enough that their backline would hear.

He could see she had taken wounds, but they were few—shallow bites that leaked blood through the chain on her legs. With her improved healing skill, Dvei knew she would recover quickly.

Garth’s chanting reached a crescendo—a piece of theatre, but an easy way for the mage to let them know he was close to being able to cast. It was the one operational requirement that Garth hadn’t tried to fight him on, something he suspected had more to do with it being pleasing to the mage’s ego than anything else.

As Dvei kept up his steady swings, arrows flew around him. A precision assault that left the projectiles lodged in shoulders and hips—leaving the beasts an easy target for Maelea’s axe.

Slowly, they made progress. As their foes fell injured and prone, arrows sought out their eyes—their kills confirmed by Han’s shouts.

It was still a grinding siege. The beasts were persistent—rabid in their desire to rip them limb from limb, furious at their invasion of their home and territory.

Yet, their approach kept them safe—he’d much rather the battle last twice as long, but they all walked away without appreciable injury.

Spinning to his right, Dvei rebuffed a jinto that had tried to clear his shield, infusing his morning star with Armour Breaker.

Knocked back from his shield bash, the beast landed on its side. He brought his mace down, aiming for its spine and ribs as it scrambled at the dirt, trying to get its feet under it.

Then it froze.

They all froze—every beast going rigid as their heads turned behind them in eerie unison.

His morning star came down, cracking the base of the jinto’s skull that lay before him. It didn’t react.

Dvei’s stomach dropped. He’d never seen beasts react like this; it was…different.

Different was dangerous.

Before he could call for them to pull back, he heard Garth scream.

“Shattered Fragments!”

Moving on muscle memory, Dvei hunkered behind his shield—Maelea pressing herself close to their back as they minimised their profile.

Four long-stride long glass spears shot around him.

Blood sprayed in eerie silence as the spell landed on target—three unmoving beasts dropping dead on the spot as the glass punched deep into their heads, the last standing unmoving as blood welled up around the shard wedged a stride into its chest.

Power trickled through him as his soul flared, the deaths enough to push him to his next level.

**Ding! Heavy Shieldbearer has reached class level 93!**

**+2 End, Str, +1 Dex, Vit, Free!**

The pack stayed silent—still staring to the south-east.

“Hold!” Dvei yelled uneasily, every muscle in his body held in tension.

Whatever was happening, it wasn’t natural.

“What the fuck is going on?” Maelea muttered, shifting her grip on her axe as she stood ready to attack at the slightest movement.

He just shook his head—he wished he knew.

As if the spell that held them rooted was broken by Maelea’s words, the pack turned as one—facing the direction that had held them captivated, before they tore over the ground a moment later. To the last, they ran like they were being chased by denizens of the forsaken hells, even those with broken bones sprinting as fast as they physically could.

Fixated on the trail of blood left behind the beasts, the dread that had built within him sat heavy.

“What are we waiting for! We need to go after them!” Garth snarled.

He turned, shooting the mage a look of disgust. “No, you blasted fool! We’re leaving, and that’s final. Unless you plan on hunting them down alone?”

Ignoring the mage’s spluttered complaints, Dvei stared after the fleeing jinto beasts.

The guild needed to hear of this. Something had changed. Again.