Returning his gaze to the water he saw small minnows playfully swimming alongside one another. Sighing deeply, and shaking his head he discarded his clothing before jumping directly into the small river’s shallow water. Laying down on back he let body submerge itself in the clear waters before gently scrubbing his body with his hands. The cuts and bruises seemed to disappear slowly with every passing second of water’s flow. Minutes passed in this gentle embrace before his body seemed to be removed off its natural fatigue and he, somewhat reluctantly, lifted himself up and out of the serene water.

Walking a little further upstream, he cupped his hands under the water’s surface before drinking the water directly.

You have discovered a river which is connected to the Fae’s pond.

Due to bathing in the mystically waters all minor injuries have been healed, in addition to any minor ailments you may have been inflicted with.

Strangely, while his thirst was taken care of by the waters, his hunger was also affected. Now, while he could eat, he didn’t feel the gnawing pain nor did he hear the irritating growl that once plagued him insistently. He simply felt - content.

Redressing only with his black boxers and grey tank top, he tied his long hair back. With the aid of a small stick he packed up the remainder of his outer clothes. Due to the inconceivably large amount of rancid goblin blood spilled by his now allies, he opted against even touching them again but he forced himself to drop it off new a fire so he could at least burn them properly.

He walked back towards Lisia and his campsite or, more accurately, the location in which he passed out the night before. In a few short minutes he made it back to see the fire dying with only a few fading embers still burning to maintain the heat from the breakfast. Considering the fire it should have long since been ready. Seeing no one nearby, he shrugged of sneaking suspicion that he was being watched and looked in the pot. A brown soup, with assorted vegetables that may or may not poisonous as he knew literally nothing about the ecology in this strange world. While it did look like she knew somewhat about the process of cooking it was a little too rough to be considered anything above a passing interest in the subject.

Nonetheless, he grabbed a small, carved wooden bowl and upon not seeing a ladle he brought the bowl directly into the small vat of mysterious vegetable soup. Leveling it out he pulled it out so he could see it more clearly. ‘Yep, just as I thought, nothing even looks remotely familiar. Turnip maybe? Oh well, likely she wouldn’t be so cruel as to poison it. I did piss her off, indirectly threaten her, and whatnot but I imagine she would wait until she is at least safe.’ As he was about to take a sip of the broth a scream forced him to raise his head.

“Who are you?!”

“Andrew Marks, nice to meet you, thanks for breakfast” He spoke indifferently before adding,”and stop standing there like an idiot, your skirt is waving in the breeze. And from what I can gather you definitely are not wearing anything underneath.”

“Yo- you, you shameless bastard! I knew it couldn’t be true!” cried Lisia before her cheeks tinged a slight rosy shade.

“What can’t be true? I’m curious, enlighten me.”

“Uh, uhm nothing! Absolutely nothing at all!” she stuttered before finishing up rather defiantly. ‘It can’t be true! He, he was wearing a hood in the beginning and then was covered in blood spatter. Why is someone so callous, so.. so..’ she began trailing off in her head.

Yawning loudly, Andrew addressed a nearby goblin fan, “Goblin A over there, do me a favor a throw a rock at her or something. She looks like she’s broken,” before returning to his meal. It definitely wasn’t horrible but there were quite a few things missing or simply just, ‘wrong,’ in the dish. Even so, he finished it without complaint and ending up scooping up another two portions before finally setting the bowl down.

Seeing a small bruise in the middle of her forehead he thought to himself, ‘must’ve been one of my goblins, not one her little devotees.’ Without realising, however, that the clan he was in was a heavily patriarchal system of belief, therefore even as a Goddess to the young goblins, the owner was placed on an even higher pedestal. Without catching the exact words in her angry grumble she sat down nearby asking, “How was it, by the way, honestly I’ve never done much of this kind of thing before,” as she pointed to the empty bowl.

“I noticed, but even so it definitely wasn’t bad by any means. Maybe I am just not used to the taste of this kind of food.” replied Andrew as he looked off into the distance.

“I-I see, well if you liked it, I guess I can make more if you would be interested?”

“Sure, why not? Oh, if possible, after the hunt today add a bit of meat to the menu. Ah, that sounds demanding, regardless. What are your plans for the day?”

“I’d rather go with you than… *sigh* please just don’t leave me alone with them, will you?” She spoke softly, half in resignation for the situation, half due to the face that he was the only somewhat decent person in the goblin encampment.

“Sure, but I refuse to do another princess/evil monster rescue thing again, so look after yourself as I won’t always be able to.” replied Andrew casually.

Not even paying attention to the pouting girl, he operated the inventory screen before pulling out one of the two iron spears that he grabbed as everyone rushed off suddenly. Lightly dropping it into her palm he stood up before ripping off his belt from his discarded pants. Luckily, it was a purely adjustable model that could fit any size, or so said the company. He slipped it off and tightened it above his hips just enough to given him room to insert the twin short swords but also to keep it from falling off his waist. The only downside was the fact that the belt was cloth - tough, hardened cloth, but cloth all the same. Estimating it would last two days if he was lucky, Andrew scowled thinking he’d have to ruin yet another piece of clothing just for the convenience in this world. Even so, he placed his two swords on to his hip, and pulled out the iron spear to act a walking stick for the time being.

Walking with Lisia in tow, Andrew slowly made it central portion of the camp in hopes of finding Grok, or at the very least the location of the wolves. Even simply meandering about, looking at the pitifully small mud and stick built shacks, he attracted the attention of nearly every goblin in their makeshift camp. ‘In the few games I’ve played, this is usually where they all pull out some weapon or another and try to murder you, hey?’ he mused to himself whilst thinking about what would happen should these fifty men and children come after him. Creeping up behind a random working goblin laborer, he lightly tapped on his shoulder.

“What’d you want, I’m busy her ca...can’t be..!” cried the goblin fearfully. Andrew curiously took a long look at the goblin to see if he came across him before or if he is just that terrifying to these villagers. Looking at him, up and down, caused the goblin no small amount of anxiety but it finally clicked for Andrew. Seeing crossed scar across the forearm of the goblin everything finally made sense.

With a predatory smile Andrew said dramatically, “Ah, Goblin Spearman! The man who cut this one’s body! For such a valiant warrior such as yourself to be working with the fodder; have you no shame. The Gods’ granted you that spear arm and now you simply pile mud bricks into a foundation? Alas, the Gods are cruel but I shall do my best to set you on the right way! If you are the man I think you are, grab your spear and come help me slay these furred menaces from your territory. Do you not wish to see your brothers safe, your children secure, and your home far from the fields of battle?” tilting his head as if forcing him to comment - and consent - in front of his goblin clan members.

The Goblin, strangely, plain faced for his kind or perhaps slightly more feminine, sighed to himself before continuing the dramatic conversation, “I, Taryk, of the Cleaver clan fear no beast. Follow me for I will guide you to den of mangy beasts. Let it be known, I, Taryk, will bring the heads and skins of at least ten wolves with the help of these brave companions.” After the announcement, he nodded towards the human who forced him into this assignment and marched south from the camp with a forced, appearance of determination on his face.

Laughing inwardly to himself, Andrew pushed the confused Lisia by the shoulder before following along the tense goblin. After they got some distance away from the prying eyes and ears of the villagers he slowed to a stop before laughing outright. Taryk, giving a wry smile, chuckled a little bit before speaking, “it’s not that I don’t trust your strength, but can you handle a pack alone? I can probably handle one… with difficulty. This little miss, on the other hand, is kind of useless, doesn’t look like she even knows which side to poke with.” Before nodding to the spear.

“Lisia, calm down. Even if he probably isn’t wrong, in all honesty you should be the bigger person here,” quipped Andrew nonchalantly towards to annoyed elf before she could speak up.

Giggling was heard in background but Andrew ignored it, moving towards past the Taryk, the forcibly recruited goblin, and his tag-a-long elf, Lisia. Shouting, “Let’s go already, I’m tired of walking around in my underwear so let’s kill some wolves so I can make some bloody pants. Oh, and Taryk, no idea we’ll find out on the way,” he waited for his guide to catch up before departing for his first real quest.

Reclamation of the Goblin Village.

Grok the Cleaver, Chief of the small Cleaver clan requested you to perform three deeds to show both your strength and valor. In return, he will grant the Player the strength to stand up towards their future foes as well rewards depending on the contributions for each successful mission.

In Progress:

Kill the surrounding wolves, bringing back both the meat and skin to allow the goblin militia to grow stronger. Reward: Armor, ???

Optional: Assist Taryk in obtaining 10 wolf heads and pelts to ensure his reputation upon arrival back in the village.

Reward: Unlocks Taryk as a (potential) companion, increases his strength, and improves relations with both him and the goblin clan.

Optional: Kill the Den Mother.

Reward/Consequence: While the surrounding wolves number dwindles, wars between each clan will intensify, however, as an individual representing the Cleaver clan the wolves will begin to feel both fear and respect towards the clan allowing Goblins in the Cleaver clan to utilize them as mounts in battle.

Reclaim the iron mine the clan once held possession of to increase the quantity and quality of available weapons for your troops. Reward: Weapon, ???

Optional: Locate and deal with the enemy Adventurer.

Reward/Consequence: Grok will reward you with money, goblin women (based on availability), or gear. If captured alive, all three options are unlocked as repayment. Relations may be adversely affected with the Adventurers faction.

Assault the enemy clan, the Impalers, and rescue the captured women.

Optional: Annihilate the enemy military and chieftain, restoring the clan’s honor and absorbing the Impalers clan goblins.

Reward: Title, ???

Soon they cleared the camp borders and advanced further south down a winding trail. Feeling the cracked pavement under his feet covered by the dense foliage was a feeling he still could not get used to. As his mind drifted away he considered what had truly happened to his world. More so out of curiosity rather than concern, but from the looks of the environment - or, rather, what was left of it - it was his world, but, evidently, these types of creatures standing before him were not from his own. ‘Were they brought over here and just re-coded? From the ‘Corporation's’ claims and, well, my own experience, it doesn’t seem to be that far-fetched.’

Feeling the spear stuck to the ground he decided against paying attention to the more political aspects of how this, ‘Game’ came to be. Slowing momentarily, he pulled the butt end of the spear out of a wide crack in the concealed concrete forest floor before trudging forward once again. ‘So basically, I just have to kill a number of wolves. Hmm, I wonder what level why would be.. Wait, is there even a even or health status screen thing?’

Operating the menu screen to access the help section, he reread the article about combat. As he glanced over it he laughed at himself in self-derision. Apparently, in order to not interfere with ‘game-play’ the developers designed so that when looking at an enemy while thinking, ‘identify,’ one can see the enemies level, health, stamina, mana and depending on familiarity with the creature they can also see a brief description on their characteristics and abilities. In addition, this ‘inspect’ can also be used to examine equipment and items from outside of the menu screen.

Approaching a small river the trio spotted a single silvery-grey wolf, back turned and drinking contentedly from the river. In all honesty, it appeared almost identical to its normal cousins but was quite a bit bigger. Standing nearly six feet tall and much, much longer. Raising a closed fist to tell the pair trailing behind him to stop, for no other reason than telling to be quiet and no interfere. ‘I need to test my strength on that one. Massive jaws, claws, and paws. Oh, right!’ he mused to himself, with a small smirk creeping up onto his face. Concentrating as he was told to do towards the large wolf, he thought, ‘Identify.’

Soundless a new notification popped up in the corner of the his vision, when he pressed on it, it read:

[Mutated Grey Wolf (Level 7)

Description: ???

Abilities: ??? ]

He sighed to himself, thinking it wasn’t even worth it to to check out the wolf. Yes, it was only barely within his abilities, but even so, in order to maintain some degree of stealth it simply wasn’t worth it to use all that regularly. Forcing his iron spear into Lisia’s trembling hand, he withdrew one of the goblin bows in his possession. Notching an arrow, from his dwindling supply, he aimed at the wolf’s head which was just peeking out from its body, due to the awkward angle of the shot. Loosing it through the underbrush altered the arrow’s trajectory a bit, but with pain filled cry from the wolf told Andrew he was successful.

Exchanging the bow with the spear from Lisia’s grip he noticed the wolf paw at it face a few times for glaring at the approaching man over its shoulder.

Walking out of the brush and over to river bank he saw it surprisingly hits its mark. Just under the eye socket of the wolf’s head was an embedded arrow. ‘Normally I’d be happy that it hit… but what in the actual hell is that?’ Between the feral snarls and growls escaping his throat he noticed something absolutely different from his expectations. Two heads, one bleached silver the other nearly identical - if it weren’t soaking in its own blood, roared with fury. Pacing back and forth, glaring at the man all the while, as if deciding what is the most pain they can cause him before devouring him entirely.

“Hey, Cerb, looks like you’re arguing with your ‘twin,’ or whomever that extra head is on your shoulders. Let’s play fetch, ‘kay?” Spoke Andrew callously before throwing the spear towards the ‘pair’ as hard as he could.

Unsurprisingly, the two wolves both reacted the spear. One was clearly drowning in bloodlust causing its body to propel forward before the other stepped in, barking at the maddened wolf head, and forcing its body to veer off to the side. The spear, however, still flew straight and sliced the flank of the wolf’s body shallowly before stumbling in the air and sailing past the charging wolf. As the spear left his hands, Andrew pulled his two short swords out of his make-shift holster into hands.

Now, both heads of the wolf were enraged and attacked as one. Pouncing towards the human only a few metres away, they cleared five metres as they extended their claws to rip the man’s torso apart. Ducking slightly, he dived underneath the pouncing wolf while tucking his blades in close to his chest. As he landed on left shoulder to start a roll he rolled forwards before lifting his tucked right sword up to stab deeply in the wolf’s torso. Letting go of the sword lodged in the stomach of the wolf, he quickly stood up and sprinted over to his spear Just barely able to manage grasping the handle before an impact knocked him face first into the ground.

Dazed and winded, he felt a searing pain in his back, before he unsteadily got back to his feet. Turning to face the monstrous wolf, he exhaled slowly feeling the air find its way back in his lungs but at the cost of adding a torturous pain to fill up both his chest and back. The wolf, seemingly enjoying this spectacle, paced back and forth before slowly, with a slight limp, making its way to Andrew. The iron spear in his right and his short sword in his left, Andrew approached the wolf, each staring at the other’s eyes to try to find a sense of sudden movement.

Finally, once more at a few metres apart, each party moved at once. ‘Probably suicidal now, but I don’t have much of a choice,’ Andrew charged forward as the wolf pounced once more. Opening both sets of gaping jaws, the wolf bit down before it felt a sharp pain come from its chest once more - and again, and again, until it felt its power leave it and fell to the ground.

Andrew, thinking quickly, stabbed the iron spear into the ground at an angle to act as a palisade stopping the wolf in mid air before diving underneath the airborne wolf once more. Slowly rolling over because of the dreadful pain in his body, he unleashed stab after stab into the wolf’s body before it finally collapsed. Far too exhausted to move, Andrew, already covered in the wolf’s blood now felt the entire weight of the corpse fall onto his chest. Advertisement Support "Ephemeral Cycle" PayPal Patreon Previous

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Chapter RSS About the author 3 Fictions 65 Posts 2 Threads Ambush Follow Author Saturday, December 19, 2015 4:52:27 PM Thursday, December 31, 2015 7:01:15 AM Canada Shy Penguin

Bio: Chronic Inability to Finish Stories; CIFS for short. A major affliction that has gripped me in its steely maw for weeks, months, and (shivers) shows no sign of stopping.

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