The Land: Predators Read online

  The biomancer cast Soul Trap on the remaining dreemar. The Stun debuff had worn off on one of them when it had been attacked by the other. The two animals were now locked in a brutal fight, completely ignoring anything else. From the outside, they just looked like a ball of fur, claws, horns and blood. The chaos was worsened by Richter’s Weak Rending Talons spell that was still siphoning health from both of them at a steady rate.

  The strike teams stood ready in case the animals broke out of the spell fields, but the dreemar stayed focused on one another. The archers nocked arrows, but waited when Richter motioned for them to be still. His mana had risen above one hundred points. Not enough for what he wanted to do, but luckily, he was the Master of the Mist Village. He set a Sprite Arrow of Nature to the string and began imbuing. Pulling on the village mana pool, he invested the required two hundred mana needed to maximize the Psi Crystallization effect of his skill and released.

  A second BOOM shook the forest and the two weakened creatures collapsed, dead. Twin swirls of rainbow light rose into the air. The lights mirrored each other like mating dragonflies, gracefully weaving through the trees until they circled back and disappeared into Richter’s Bag of Holding.

  You have captured:

  Soul of a Dreemar x 2

  Durability: 20/20

  Item Class: Common

  Stone Level: Common

  Soul Level: Common

  Status: Filled

  Weight: 0.3 kg

  Richter dismissed both the Grease and Weak Rending Talons spells. The second one especially was just making a mess as it continued to score against the dead bodies. Even though he had come to enjoy battle, cutting up dead bodies over and over was just… gross and unnecessary. He heard a final squeal of pain off to the left as his strike teams ended the life of the last dreemar. It sounded like the beast had made it at least another hundred yards before they’d taken it down. Caulder was with them though, and Richter was confident his sergeant would bring back the psi crystal. His men should have killed the beast well before the Psi Crystallization effect faded.

  The chaos seed planned to summon a few mist workers to carry the dreemar carcasses back to the village just as soon as his mana replenished. As it was he had a slight headache from almost completely depleting his pool. Richter could have simply used the village mana again, but he’d already used a hundred MP. The village only regenerated forty-two mana per hour. Drawing from that reservoir of magic was not something he did lightly ever since his poor judgement had allowed bugbears to attack his village. The deaths of that night still weighed heavily upon him. It was better to wait a few minutes until his own mana pool refilled. Besides, he had psi crystals to find!

  The bodies of the two dreemar were somewhat messy, but Richter was able to recover the glowing blue-white crystals without difficulty. His second imbued shot had gotten the job done, and the stunned dreemar had developed a crystal a scant moment before death. Richter reached into his bag and pulled out a skin of water. After pouring some down his parched throat, he rinsed off the crystals and looked at them with immense satisfaction.

  You have found:

  Psi Crystal

  Durability: 10/10

  Item Class: Scarce

  Level: 14

  Weight: 0.9 kg.

  Traits: This crystal is the captured psychic energy of a level 14 Dreemar. This energy can be utilized by Mental creatures to boost their growth and stats. The energy may also be used by anyone with access to Mental magic to greatly augment their spells. It can also be used by Mental creatures to augment their capabilities for a short time. Any usage will consume the energy all at once. Further uses of this energy may be possible and will have to be discovered.

  You have found:

  Psi Crystal

  Durability: 10/10

  Item Class: Scarce

  Level: 18

  Weight: 0.9 kg.

  Traits: …

  He knew a dragonling that would absolutely love to get her hands on these. Richter slipped them both into his bag and waited for his men to return. He was about to summon a mist worker when he heard a large amount of shouting coming from the direction the dreemar had run in. There was a shout of pain, but it was tinged with anger, not the fury of battle. In fact, what it really sounded like was like was a cry of intense frustration and irritation. Still, everyone hefted their weapons and prepared for the worst. Then Richter heard Caulder’s voice, “Get that slippery bastard! He took it!”

  There was a parting of the underbrush like a figure was running through it, but all Richter saw of the runner was a faint distortion in the air. At first, an irrational part of him thought, “Oh shit! Predator!” Then the conscious part of his mind realized he was being a moron. He wasn’t even in a jungle. What was actually happening was that his Pierce the Veil skill was letting him see a stealthed figure.

  The stealth faded away as though the now-revealed man had stepped through a waterfall. First his arm, then his head, then the rest of his body came into view. The little guy was booking! Moments later, the two strike teams that had gone after the dreemar emerged from the trees as well, looking mad as hell. Richter watched the small man they were chasing, both confused and bemused. Their quarry was only four and a half feet tall, and his build was that of a fourteen-year-old boy. Though flushed with exertion, the man’s skin was fair, and despite his youthful face Richter could tell he was no child. Slightly overlarge ears tapered up to a soft point on either side of his head, and his chestnut hair was pulled back in a ponytail that bounced behind him as he ran.

  The strike teams that had stayed with Richter moved to intercept the small man. A blue-white flash of light caught the chaos seed’s eyes and he realized what had happened. Whoever this was, he had stolen the psi crystal from Caulder! Then another thought struck him, one that should have occurred to him first and was much more concerning. How the hell was this guy able to see in the mists?

  Alarm racing through him, Richter reached out a hand and shouted, “Hey!”

  Barely slowing, the man drew a slingshot from his belt and fired. Richter tried to move, but only twenty feet separated them. A small hard object hit Richter directly between the eyes.

  “Ah… Arghhhh!” Richter cried out. One leg buckled from the pain and he collapsed unceremoniously onto his ass. The fact that he landed on a relatively sharp rock that bruised his tailbone didn’t help. The still-fading pain of the mana headache was magnified twenty-fold by the attack, and yet he lost only a few points of health. Richter had never been struck in the face by a gummy bear traveling at the speed of sound, but he imagined that this must be what it felt like. “Owwwww!” he groaned, holding his head in both hands.

  What followed over the next minute was a massive amount of shouting and yelling. “Get him! How did he… Do not even try to shoot me with… Gah! He shot me with it… I have him… Fuck, I lost him!”

  Richter shouted once, “I want him alive,” and then ignored everything else happening around him. He had faith that his men would catch the thief. He had a migraine as big as a giant’s menstrual cramps though. It made it impossible to focus enough to cast a healing spell for himself, let alone do anything to help his men.

  A self-deprecating part of him felt like the pain was the Universe reminding him of a few things. One, that only a dumbass lets himself get shot in the face. Two, that if he was ever dumb enough to let it happen again, he wouldn’t have any feelings left to worry about… on account of the death and all. Finally, it told him to be humble. Despite his vaunted power and high level, he could still be brought low in an instant. The part of him that realized all this was quite small though and was shrinking with every second that his head throbbed. The larger part of himself was not troubled by such existential concerns. It just had one thought that played on a loop while he sat there suffering. What the fuck had that guy shot him with?

  CHAPTER 5 – Day 141 – Kuborn 31, 0 AoC

  Richter’s mind cleared a minute later. He saw that
his attacker was held securely in Caulder’s grasp. His Life mage cast Weak Slow Heal on him. The pain in his head and tailbone had barely abated, but at least the spell had removed the rising lump on his face.

  The village soldiers were all still shouting, no doubt notifying every monster within a league of their location. He was about to put a stop to it, when Caulder spoke up, doing it for him, “Stop all that caterwauling! If you feel the need to shout and cry, I can give you something to truly shout about! Secure the perimeter!”

  The guards sent many an ugly glance at the small man the sergeant had a death grip on. More than a few sported rising knots on their foreheads, and one limped from a bruised knee. They obeyed, however. Soon, only the captive, biomancers, archers and Caulder remained by their lord. One of the archers helped Richter to his feet. His gaze fell upon the bound figure struggling in the sergeant’s grip. Caulder rolled his eyes and slammed a fist down on top of the man’s head. “Be still, kindir,” he snapped.

  The prisoner let out an oof and ceased his movement. He cast an aggrieved look up at Caulder as if he could not imagine what he had done to earn such harsh treatment.

  Richter looked at Caulder, raising one eyebrow, to echo the small man’s question. Was it really necessary to slap the guy around? The sergeant just shrugged and looked completely at peace with his actions. Rolling his eyes slightly, the chaos seed used Analyze.

  Name: Shinecatcher

  Race: Kindir

  Disposition: Friendly

  Level: 27

  Profession: Bard

  STATS

  Health: 210

  Mana: 140

  Stamina: 220

  ATTRIBUTES

  Strength: 13

  Agility: 35

  Dexterity: 45

  Constitution: 21

  Endurance: 22

  Intelligence: 14

  Wisdom: 13

  Charisma: 18

  Luck: 17

  SKILLS

  Slings: 17

  Small Blades: 14

  Tracking: 22

  Pickpocket: 24

  Stealth: 22

  Pierce the Veil: 25

  Traps: 12

  Trap Disarm: 10

  Disguise: 32

  Blend: 32

  Gambling: 17

  Sleight of Hand: 32

  Lumberjacking: 4

  Singing: 27

  Dancing: 8

  Stringed Instruments: 48

  Woodwinds: 51

  Percussion: 17

  Herb Lore: 5

  Cooking: 20

  Fishing: 3

  DESCRIPTION

  Kindir are an offshoot of the gnome race. These happy creatures roam here and there and are known for their curious nature. They are so curious in fact that they are immune to fear. Kindir consider themselves to be the most honorable and courteous of beings. So honorable in fact that they “honor” others by “appreciating” their valuables as much as possible, and so courteous that they have no problem inviting anyone into their homes, or themselves into anyone else’s homes. To the kindir, that is only fair, and they would never disrespect another by not assuming they felt the same. This type of logic has led many other sapient species to kill kindir on sight. Kindir get three points to distribute per level, and each level gives +1 to Agility and +1 to Dexterity.

  A kindir, Richter thought to himself abstractly. He felt like he’d heard that before, but he couldn’t place it. He decided to put it aside before it worried him like a burr in his foot. The Land had been created to embody every magic, culture and race in existence, it only made sense that some things would be familiar. What was more interesting was that the man had the widest collection of skills he’d seen on anyone other than himself. This Shinecatcher was also the first Bard he’d ever met.

  There was both anger and distaste in his voice when Caulder spoke, “We caught the thief, my lord.”

  “I’m not a thief,” the bound man protested. “I was merely strolling through the woods when I saw this shining thing. I picked it up and before I knew it, these men came out of nowhere and tried to steal it from me. Naturally, I tried to run and-”

  “You’re a liar and thief just like all of your people!” Caulder jeered, interrupting his captive. The sergeant started shaking him for good measure. The bard’s small body shook like a flag in the wind.

  “Not true! My name is Shine and I’m wonderful!” Shinecatcher protested in an aggrieved voice, even as he flopped about. He really did sound like he was the victim of a gross miscarriage of justice. “What you said is not true at all! You’re a liar… your liar breath feels like fire!”

  “Let me kill him, my lord!” Caulder shouted-slash-begged.

  “Breathe, man,” Richter responded calmingly. “I’m not a huge fan of this guy either. I can’t tell you how irritating it was to be shot by whatever the hell that was-”

  “An acorn,” the kindir interjected helpfully. His voice was bright and happy as if the large man holding him wasn’t discussing his imminent death. Then again, Richter thought, maybe the kindir was just used to people threatening his life. That was entirely possible.

  “An acorn,” Richter repeated incredulously. “It was just an acorn?”

  “Yes,” the kindir answered smiling. There was no malice in his expression, just an easy happiness, “Can I have it back?”

  “What?” Richter asked in disbelief. Who the hell would ask for something like that back? Then a much more worrying thought occurred to him. He’d just taken a nut to the face, grown weak in the knees, and now his ass hurt. The metaphysical implications were not making him happy. For just a moment, he considered ending the creepy little One Direction reject’s life. If he was being honest, it was more like five whole moments, but in the end, he decided not to kill the little man. Something which, in Richter’s opinion, was a moral triumph.

  The chaos seed calmed himself before addressing Caulder again, “Okay, he shot me with an acorn, but no lasting harm was done. Did you retrieve my psi crystal?”

  “Here you are, my lord.” The sergeant handed the glowing jewel over.

  Shinecatcher reached out to intercept it, “That is my crystal!” He quieted when Caulder cuffed him again. The kinder’s voice was high-pitched like a child’s, furthering the overall impression that the man was just a teenager. Richter didn’t let himself forget what he had just seen though. Shinecatcher was a Professed Bard. Contrary to popular belief, Bards weren’t just happy little guys in tights that strummed lutes all day. They were normally “catch-all” classes that had no issue employing Rogue tactics and skills. Shinecatcher’s status sheet proved that. He was level twenty-four in pickpocketing. Hell, the guy’s name proved that Richter should keep an eye on him. There was also the fact that the kindir had downed him in one shot and it had taken almost twenty guards to subdue him. Richter wouldn’t make the mistake of underestimating the thief.

  Richter put the crystal in his bag out of the reach of the light-fingered kindir and addressed him again, “I have several questions, but the most important is, how can you see in the mists?”

  “Mists? What mists?” Shinecatcher asked, his eyes wide and innocent.

  “Do you see, my lord,” Caulder spat. “His people are all liars and thieves. You should just let me-” The sergeant paused, his hand patting his waist. “Where is my dagger?”

  Shinecatcher began looking around as if he was trying to help find it, all the while sawing through his bonds with the very item that Caulder was missing.

  “Gaaahh!” Caulder shouted. He snatched the blade back and pounded his gauntleted fist on the kindir’s head. Shinecatcher dropped to the ground, dazed.

  “Sergeant!” Richter sharply admonished the man. “We need him alive and coherent to get answers. Control yourself!”

  “I apologize, my lord.” His tone was recalcitrant, but he still glared bloody murder at the addled kindir. “You must understand that in some countries, kindir are killed on sight.”

  “Be that a
s it may,” Richter said, “try to be cool.”

  Caulder nodded in acquiescence, but didn’t let down his guard. At least when he helped the small fellow back to his feet, he wasn’t overly rough, Richter thought.

  A few minutes later, Shinecatcher had recovered enough to speak again. Richter repeated his earlier question.

  “Oh, these mists,” the kindir said, looking around. “I use my eyes to see through them.”

  Heading off Caulder’s inevitable retaliation, Richter spoke up. “Look, I don’t have time for this. My people are in trouble. You tried to steal my gem, but I’m willing to just let that go. What I absolutely have to know however, is how you are immune to the magic of the mists.” He looked earnestly at Shinecatcher. “I am the lord of these lands and if there is a problem with the enchantment protecting my village, I have to know. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will. Believe me when I tell you that I will do whatever I must to safeguard my people.”

  A look of consideration crossed Shinecatcher’s face. Then he spoke in a bargaining tone, “If I tell you, will you give me back my gem?”

  “It is not yours, you little bastard,” Caulder said through gritted teeth. This time he turned the kindir around to face him and put his hands on both of the gnome’s arms so he could get some serious shaking done. Before he really got into it though, Richter spoke up again.

  “Dude! You have got to chill out!” Caulder looked up like he’d forgotten Richter was there, but he nodded and turned his captive back around. He looked a bit sheepish when his liege said, “Woosaa, bra! Wooo-saaaa.” The sergeant had no idea what his lord was talking about, but he was used to Richter’s strange references by now and got the general tone. Caulder took a deep breath and calmed himself.