Vraxious- The Forsaken Lands

  Vrax gazed out from his perch high atop the verdant tree, taking a deep, slow breath of the cherry blossom-like petals spiraling around him on the wind. The haunting melody of the unknown serpent continued echoing in the distance, broken occasionally by barks, snarls, yelps, and, slightly concerningly, the ground itself shuddering. He felt alive, truly alive, witnessing things few, if any, had seen in this current age. He wondered how many people missed out on the wonders hidden here because of the horrors that also dwelled.

  This tree is fucking awesome. It smells like peaches too. I need to figure out how to get a sapling of one of these to my room. Vrax sighed. I know I shouldn’t go back, but I really want to see more of what that serpent can do, especially if it’s lurking this close to town. My curiosity really is going to get me killed. But it seemed perfectly happy in its tree….

  Vrax, against his better judgment, began a wide circling loop, coming to the dense line of trees he had hidden in before. Much farther past the battlefield this time. The serpent was still writhing casually through the top branches of the mighty tree. One wolf remained alive on the ground, probably the pack leader, based on how damn big it was, nearing the size of a pony. It was still utterly dwarfed by the Tier-2 horror casually playing with its food from above.

  Vrax noted more details this time about the serpent. The crystalline scales had a dull coat around some edges; small patches of green lichen hung loosely, seemingly randomly interspersed on its body. And the eyes…they were far too intelligent, far too calculating. The way it bobbed low, unnecessarily, to draw the wolf in and then dodged out of the way. As if it was just practicing. The wolf lunged, missing the serpent by inches, with a skill-empowered bite, tearing a rent out of the serpent's tree.

  Everything suddenly changed. Vrax, even from this far away, saw rage in the snake’s eyes as it saw the tree damaged. A maelstrom of mana was siphoned from the nearby plants, swirling into a vortex he could clearly see from a hundred strides away. It activated a skill. The wolf tried to flee the ground around it, aiding its attempts to escape as grass rose in a wall between it and the serpent. The serpent's maelstrom focused into a point of pure green above the wolf .

  A flash of green-white magic blinded Vrax for a moment even at this distance. Sound seemed to stop momentarily. When his vision cleared up several pounding heartbeats later, there was no wolf left standing. Only a glowing green crater that stretched a dozen strides down the length of the road. Smeared with the crimson remains of the wolf, roses were budding from every inch of the scar where the glowing green touched what was left of the wolf.

  Vrax felt his breath hitch. That was the kind of power he prayed to someday wield. Able to defend himself and what was important to him. To see what no one else could: to coexist with the mighty beings of this world. To Vrax’s horror, his musing was broken by the serpent’s keen gaze aiming in his direction. It flicked its tongue out almost as if it had tasted him on the air even from this far.

  The haunting melody began again, weaving a tale of sorrow and hunger. Of survival and hope, all expressed without words. Raw emotions brushed against Vrax's consciousness as he locked gazes with the serpent. It seemed to rifle through his mind for a moment, almost savoring his hopes of power and pausing on his quest to find Vurune.

  Vrax began inching away as the thing continued to rifle through his thoughts like a damn bookshelf. Step by shuffling step, he eased behind a tree, breaking line of sight. Once he broke free from its gaze, the sensation stopped, and Vrax breathed out a sigh of relief. He quickly dashed back in the direction of the fort, determined not to push his luck any farther. Whatever that thing was, it didn’t seem to care about him as more than a passing curiosity. Thankfully, or else he would definitely be digesting somewhere up in that tree right now.

  Vrax dashed through the relative safety of the field of blossoming trees, making damn well sure he got far enough away from the snake before slowing back down to his more normal, cautious creeping pace. The path ahead gently gave way from the carpet of petals. Opening into a massive clearing full of chest-high, gently swaying flicker grass shifting sedately between green and purple hues. Vrax settled into a crouch among the flicker grass, pulling a simple purple sash from his pack. He threw it over his mottled green cloak. Now moving along the long rows of grass, Vrax timed his stride so that he shifted with the wind, letting the hypnotic effect aid him in staying unseen.

  Vrax continued his strange swaying walk through the fields for nearly a league. Pausing every hundred or so strides to survey his surroundings. Making sure nothing hungry had noticed him, and to make sure he would enter the distant treeline close to the fort. Varx continued on, enjoying the grass’s oddly silky texture as he slid through it. He came to an abrupt stop as movement not aligned with the sway of the wind caught his eye. A flash of dark green as something scurried by almost within arm's reach. Then again, this time Vrax managed to identify the low-slung form [Vampiric Logart tier-1](lvl 2).

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  I haven't seen one of those in months! Might as well give it a shot.

  Vrax quietly unlooped a netted snare trap he had ready on his belt and softly lobbed it into the area he had seen the logart. For good measure he reached into his pack and pulled out some of the enchanted cheese from his rations and threw it on top of the trap. He was immediately rewarded by a soft snuffling sound as a forest green and brown furred creature shuffled into view next to the snare. It looked like a cross between a weasel with a long, thin, svelte body and more canine features, including the long, snuffling snout that was currently curiously prodding the slice of cheese.

  Logarts loved magic; they literally fed on it just as much as they did on more mundane foods. They could also smell it in the air and track it down. They were also rather skittish creatures capable of using honest-to-God arcane spells if they were scared too badly. The value on them as pets was in the tens of gold coins. But that wasn’t what Vrax hoped for here. There was a very common children’s tale in Hopes End that if you followed a Logart to its burrow, it was bound to have nested in a place of magic. Vrax had no clue if that was true or just more small village nonsense, but he sure wouldn’t mind finding out.

  The logart began subtly drawing the weak enhancement from the cheese in a grey-white stream of mana. That snaked straight down its gullet. When it was satisfied it had drained all the mana, it promptly grabbed the cheese hunk and attempted to trot off with it. Finding itself stuck fast to the netting.

  Sorry, little guy, that glue isn’t coming off until we become friends.

  Vrax very slowly went over to the struggling logart. He began talking to it in low, friendly tones: “Hey, buddy, don’t be worried. I’m just here to help. You like magic, right? I’ve got lots of magic!” Vrax waved a magic firestarter known as a spark stone in front of the struggling creature. Its inquisitive eyes focused in, almost immediately forgetting its struggle for a moment as it sniffed the air. Looking between the snack in Vrax’s hands and Vrax himself, seemingly trying to decide if he was a threat. Vrax sat next to the creature, making sure not to touch the netting, and held the stone out for the Logart to drain. He worked his way through three spark stones like this before the Logart was trying to escape the netting, not to run away but to climb on him in search of more food.

  It quickly devolved after Vrax freed it from the netting, allowing it to practically ransack his cloak while he still wore it in search of more Sparkstone. “Okay, easy there, big guy, down, down!” The Logart was standing on its hind legs, paws on Vrax's shoulders, trying to shove its nose in the pack on his back. He finally managed to push it back and create some space. Quickly popping open one of his health tinctures to redirect its attention from his pack. Vrax handed it to the Logart, hoping it would shuffle off to its den with it. Instead it plopped down and started lapping noisily from the jar.

  Well, crap, what now? I don’t have much more that’s magic that I can afford to give away, certainly none of the materials in my pack.

  In the end, Vrax attempted to make a large sweeping circle looking for the Logarts' den while it curiously followed him, snuffling after his pack. Vrax stumbled across another few logarts that were drawn to their curious packmate and his apparent comfort with the new creature. Vrax wasted almost an hour wandering around the flicker grass with a slowly growing pack of Logarts following him before giving up and continuing on towards the fort. His small posse still in tow in the grass behind him.

  Vrax made it to the edge of the treeline, most of his companions having grown bored and wandered off except for the original Logart, who was still stubbornly trying to nose into Vrax's pack every time he held still.

  “Shoo, Shoo, no more food, you glutton!” Vrax shout-whispered at the Logart, trying to wave it away.

  “And there is the monster Hugger doing weird shit again.” Came a crotchety old voice from somewhere above Vrax.

  The Logart bristled at the presence above them, gathering mana around itself, readying a skill.

  Vrax looked up into the boughs of a tree, confused for a moment until he saw the barely visible outline of a lightly armored man with a bow as long as he was tall held confidently in one hand. “Feldwin? Oh good, I was looking for you!”

  The logart launched four bolts of pure mana at Feldwin's form. They arced high, spiraling down to drill holes in the tree where Feldwin had been half a heartbeat prior. He moved so fast Vrax couldn’t even follow the motion. Slamming to the ground next to them both. The Logart ran off in sheer panic as the wizened ranger came to a skidding stop inches from it.

  “Well, thanks for not shooting it.” Vrax said, a pained grin on his face eyes still locked onto the holes bored into the tree.

  “Are you kidding? Do you know how much those bizzare weasel dogs are worth? That would be one hell of a waste.” Feldwin's answer was incredibly matter-of-fact, but he did have his bow at the ready in case anything that could actually threaten him appeared.

  Vrax just went for it. “Feldwin, where did you find those echo stones last year?”

  Feldwin raised a curious eyebrow. “Farther in than you should go, but why should I tell you? What do I get out of it?” His mana flashed briefly as he used identify. “Also pick a damn class already!”

  Vrax sighed. Feldwin was always like this; the forest was nothing but a job to him—dangerous but well-paying. He should have expected Feldwin to want payment for the info.

  Vrax rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. “Well, the thing is, I spent pretty much all of my gold covering damages to the market…”

  “Not even going to ask why you had to cover damages to the market. It’s you, so it was probably something unnecessarily convoluted and moderately insane.” Feldwin glanced towards his pack. “Got anything worth money?”

  Vrax sighed and sat down next to a tree. “Fresh glimmer parts if that will get me the info I need.”

  Feldwin thought for a moment, “Heart still intact?”

  “Yeah, spear through the eye.” Vrax proudly responded.

  “Not bad for no-class kid.“ Feldwin put out a hand and accepted the carefully wrapped monster parts, opening them on the grass to ensure they were in fact undamaged before he was willing to share his half of the deal.

  “Alright, meet me at ther. I'll add it to your map. I'm not staying here any longer after all that racket.” Fedlwin streaked off in a snap, leaping from tree to tree with an effortless grace towards the tower.

  Vrax grumbled to himself jealously as he began his slow and cautious journey the rest of the way to the tower. He's already going to be set up in the comfy spot by the time I make it. It has to take him what, an hour, to make the journey I take a day for?