RotD - Chapter 4: The Horde

NOTICE: The Antagonist "Kathrag" has been changed to "Kelzoul" (like Kill Soul... hahaha... yes... I am very clever.)

Dolli floated through the darkening forest, unconcerned with what could be lurking beyond the light cast by her glowing body. In fact, Dolli was wishing she’d encounter some of the Horde’s scouts so she could better find their camp! She’d been wandering for fifteen hours in the heat of the sun, and didn’t know if she was any closer. If only she had some of her Wilds magic back, she’d use the Wayfinder spell that very instant.

Dolli looked to the sky, confirming the position of the South Saber Constellation to ensure she was still headed in the right direction. It was, and so she diverted her attention back to her speech, the moving statement she would say to Kelzoul to prevent the annihilation of her home.

“Strike a bargain. Heroes to farm, loot and riches. Twenty percent to start with a section of the tower all to yourselves,” she mumbled the highlights, confirming that the deal sounded plenty enticing.

Gods, what kind of mess was she getting herself into. If only that damn Hero Magic had picked Greg as the Regnant of Littler Crossroads. They’d probably still be a village! But then, Kelzoul would still be coming—and the citizens wouldn’t have the ability to respawn. They’d be at the mercy of heroes coming to their aid, and Dolli knew all too well how reliable that was.

Dolli stopped, frustrated. She could just recall herself to the Lifewell, call it a day, say that she tried but couldn’t find them. Plus, she said she would return within a day. At this rate, that wasn’t going to be possible. If she went home, maybe she could find a potion in her book that might help guide the way?

Yes, there was still some of Bakreh’s blood on the stones outside her hut. She could mix it with a tracking potion and that would surely do the trick. Dolli opened her Overlord menu, but stopped when she heard the crack of a branch.

She whirled, looking toward the sound and dimming the light of her glowing body. The wind rustled through the trees and crickets hummed, but nothing moved. She turned again, looking behind, and all around. There… a rope hidden among the leaves of a tree.

It wasn’t a highly sophisticated trap. Dolli saw the bent branch far above rigged to snap out at the slightest touch and yank unsuspecting victims from the ground. Well, luckily for Dolli, no noose could hold her.

She took it as a sign she was on the right track and kept moving.

“Gotcha,” was the last word Dolli heard before an oversized glass jar dropped from the canopy and slammed into the dirt around her.

Two creatures not dissimilar from Bakreh appeared from stealth in the brush beside her and put their claw-tipped paws against the glass. They turned it once, twice, and at the third there was a pop as the air compressed around Dolli.

She looked down as the evolved wolfkin creatures lifted the jar. The dirt, leaves, and grass that had been below were now trapped in the three-foot tall jar with Dolli. She probed the bottom with a hand, seeing if she could detect a gap where she could slip some of her Spark through, but there was none. So, it was air-tight. An interesting feat of engineering for certain, though it seemed to have limited potential for trapping things other than… Wispelle.

The jar was designed to trap creatures like Dolli. This jar was probably specifically for trapping Dolli.

She looked out at her captors, barely able to hear the low growls exchanged between the wolfkin. A taller, more humanoid creature with gray skin and beefy arms barked commands at the wolfkin. They wrapped straps over the top of Dolli’s jar, then down around the bottom like a sling. The bigger wolfkin then pulled the straps tight across his shoulders and stomach, then dropped to all fours.

The dirt came piling down on top of Dolli and she coughed. She smacked against the left side of the tube, then the right, left, back, until she pressed her hands against the sides to stabilize with the jar. The wolfkin was running at a good speed in near total darkness—so it must’ve had some killer night vision. No wonder they were on patrol.

Dolli wondered how long they’d been following her for, and if they’d set the other more obvious trap as a distraction for the real trap? Whatever had been their plan, it was just what Dolli had been waiting for. She did some quick calculations in the jostling dust tube as they made their way through the forest.

Even if all of the Horde’s monsters were as fast as this creature—which she doubted—it would take them at least as long as it had taken Dolli to get out there. But they wouldn’t be that fast.

They would need the equipment to make potions, repair weapons, and the likes, near the battlefield, or near enough that it didn’t take too long to retreat to. He would be ruthless and efficient, keeping the spawn point and the battle reinforcements nearby. Fifteen hours was much too far away, so they’d have to be looking for another location to settle before beginning their assault.

Dolli would need a good look at their camp to figure out just how much they’d have to move, and estimate how long that would take. Given the firelight peeking through the trees, she assumed that was just around the corner. She hadn’t been able to detect the wolfkin in stealth, which meant they had to have been a few levels higher than her, but with how much the wolfkin had slowed since his initial burst of speed, Dolli knew he couldn’t have been much higher than her.

Her captor slowed to a trot as he breeched the tree line to a field of stumps. Ironworks smoked and the ring of hammers on anvils reverberated through Dolli’s glass prison. There were at least five smithies she could see with emaciated goblins working the billows.

They moved through the smoggy blacksmith section to a row of grinding wheels. White sparks flicked off the edges of fresh forged swords that stocky humanoids pressed to the rotating stones. Dolli took quick count of them all and filed the information away for her analysis. At least ten heavy stones, they’d likely bring only a few to the front at first and bring the rest in later as time and need demanded.

They reached a sort of barracks where long tarps covered recently crafted tent frames. Inside were row upon row of triple stacked hammocks, some full of slumbering creatures. Dolli assumed based on the dryness of the wood that they’d been there at least a few weeks—perhaps even before Little Crossroads had been turned into a dungeon.

Dolli didn’t want to think about what could’ve happened had the Horde rolled through the little village of citizens. They all would’ve been dead in a matter of hours, with no chance of respawn.

The closer they came to the center of camp, the larger and more detailed the tents became. Some were kitchens with massive bubbling pots full of a thick, brown stew, and kegs lined up on every table—which was packed with monsters. She was stunned by their diversity. She’d seen at least seven distinctly different species upon her arrival when her dungeon had only four.

The creatures scooped the brown mush out of shallow bowls with a hunk of bread, some casting brief glances up at Dolli. In the eyes of some she saw malice and pleasure, but others she saw sad detachment. To them, Dolli was just another victim they couldn’t care about.

Sleeping tents and kitchens, two things Dolli’s dungeon didn’t have to worry about. They had to return to the Lifewell every twenty-four hours, but had no requirements to eat or sleep. Perhaps because the wandering dungeon was always on the move, there was no time to tap into Hafheim and find a Lifestream.

This changed the landscape of the battlefield significantly. The Horde troops would be on meal and sleep rotations if that was true, there would be even more equipment to move, as well as troops being sent to hunt and gather for their meals. This would make them vulnerable to many kinds of sabotage.

The tents were becoming even more extravagant as they went on, and the spaces between them greater. This must’ve been where the officers stayed, which meant Dolli was likely not far from the Overlord himself, Kelzoul.

Finally, they approached a wooden gate guarded by two of the tall, beefy bipedal creatures with gray skin. The wolfkin slowed to a stop, then stood upright. Dolli waved the dust particles away and pressed her hands to the glass, trying to detect their words. They weren’t speaking the common tongue, that was for sure, but whatever they were saying, they were happy about it.

One of the guards took off at a jog, and the other opened the gate, waving the wolfkin inside with a grin. The other side of the wood-pike wall was a horror of cruelty unlike anything Dolli had ever seen.

Spiked whips, knives large and small, fire-tongs, pokers, tweezers, needles, and all manner of object that had no proper business being next to one another lined the walls. Tables with straps to hold down its victims were stained red with blood. Chains with massive hooks on the end dangled from hastily crafted suspension contraptions.

The wolfkin marched through puddles of fetid blood and chunks of flesh to a tall building crafted of wood, straw, mud, and cloth. Smoke rose from the triangular top where a hole had been cut in the canvas serving as a roof to let the heat of a fire out.

This was it, Dolli thought. Time to strike a deal with a real monster.