[1.0.1] DitL: The tale of Cika Magehunter

[Senteth]

The tale of Magehunter Cika (inspired by Velorien's story)

Cornac Oozemancer, +3 will, +2 Slime Spit, +2 Mucus, +1 Mitosis, +2 Resolve

Cika stood on the path leading into the Trollmire, feeling the fetid wind washing over her from the swampy forest. Most Cornacs she knew would be revolted by the stench, but to her, the swamp smelled of life. It was an almost primal manifestation of the natural world she loved so much.

Cika had always been... different from most Cornacs. When startled, it was not uncommon for a slick coating of slime to well up from the ground under her feet. Until recently, it had been nothing more than an embarrassment, a source of ridicule and suspicion from the other townsfolk. Surely such a thing was an unnatural occurrence, born of magic.

Over time, Cika grew to resent magic fiercely, as well as any hint that she might harbor arcane powers of her own. She could not explain it, but there was something wrong with it, something profoundly unnatural that twisted her stomach whenever she encountered it. She could identify its taint on items just by touching them, something that the townsfolk saw as further proof of her connection to arcane forces.

Much as she tried to dissuade them of the notion, the people of Derth grew colder and more distant. One night, a drunken woodsman accosted her as she made her way home. Shouting imprecations at her, he accused her of being a witch and began to beat her mercilessly. A few bystanders watched, but did nothing.

Fearing for her life, Cika scrambled back and fell. The thick slime that usually bubbled out of the ground when she was afraid came forth once more, but this time there was an odd quality to it. Cika felt her breathing slow as she lay on the ground. A strange sense of clarity pervaded her as she grasped the wet grass underfoot with both hands. Looking up she could see the raging drunk coming at her, now with a knife drawn, and a cold resolve settled in her heart.

Focusing all her will on the ground below her and the feel of the grass still clenched in her hands, Cika called on the forces around her for defense. The slime around her began to hiss ominously as it boiled up from the ground with greater force than ever before. The man slipped and fell as he lost his footing, then began to scream as he clutched his face.

Twitching, the man jerked and writhed as he lay within arms reach of the girl, then finally went still. The townsfolk that were watching backed away, low mutters being exchanged as they saw the girl remain unharmed by the slime that had killed the drunk with such frightening rapidity.

If the townsfolk had suspected her of being a dangerous magic user before, they now knew it with certainty. Cika’s parents were comparatively influential and wealthy however, and were able to acquit her of criminal charges. Clearly it had been an act of self-defense.

After that, Cika found herself spending more and more time alone in the woods surrounding Derth to escape the accusing glances of the townsfolk, the hushed whispers, and the frightened mothers herding their children out of her path as she walked by.

Everything always seemed clearer when she was alone with nature. Despite herself, Cika found that she couldn’t hate the villagers. They were only reacting to what they perceived as a potentially dangerous threat. At its heart was a fear of magic as old as the Spellblaze itself, a fear shared by every sane being in Eyal. The abilities she had begun to manifest were not arcane in origin, she knew that for sure, but who could blame the townsfolk for mistaking them for magic? Not everyone could instinctually tell the difference between arcane forces and... and whatever it was that powered her own abilities.

The more she thought about it, the more convinced Cika became that magic was the true enemy she faced. If it was purged from the world then innocent people need not live in fear of wandering necromancers, blood mages, and horrors birthed from profane sacrifices or pacts with demons.

And so she began to train herself, taking the insights she had gained from her encounter with the drunk woodsman and honing them. By focusing her will she found she could cause the slime trail to manifest itself whenever she pleased, and with some experimentation found that it could be made to poison any hostile creature into contact with it while leaving friendly creatures or herself unharmed. However, the trail only followed her footsteps, she could not force it to seek out targets and destroy them. It was good for running away and killing any enemy that tried chasing her down, but not much use otherwise.

The only other benefit she could think of was the way her mind seemed to become clearer and more in tune with her surroundings while she stood on the seething mat of slime. Through trial and error she learned she could turn her saliva into a potent poison and spit it great distances. To her surprise, the wad of poison would bounce several times on impact, careening into new targets with a will of its own.

The attack required a great deal of concentration however, and Cika found that she would often fail to produce the desired effect. Thinking back to the way she had been able to focus her mind while holding onto the grass underfoot, Cika tried pulling fistfuls of grass and concentrating on them. Unfortunately it only seemed to help while it was still alive, and once pulled from the ground had no effect. It would be too awkward to grab the ground each time she needed to attack, and would keep her rooted in one spot besides. A pair of river rocks covered in moss provided the solution. So long as the plant matter was alive, it helped focus her mental powers.

Eventually Cika decided she was ready to set out on her quest to rid the world of magic. Taking only a few supplies with her, she set off for the Trollmire, where she had heard reports of a trollish hedge-wizard terrorizing travelers.

Now that she was here, there seemed no sign of any hedgewizards, but plenty of trolls and wild beasts intent on rending her limb from limb. Even the mice and rabbits seemed intent on causing her destruction! Luckily, they all suffered from a fatal allergy to poison and were swiftly dispatched.

+3 Will, +1 Slime Spit, +1 Resolve

Cika smiled at the thought of the foolish seer that she had happened across in the forest earlier as she practised her newfound healing ability. The halfling had begged Cika to help her make it to the recall portal somewhere nearby, claiming they had become lost. It was easy to find the portal, laughably so. In fact, it was lying in plain view not 15 yards away in an open clearing. Running ahead and pointing the portal out to the myopic halfling, Cika had ‘accidentally’ coated the arcane sigils with ooze. Not the poisonous variety she used on her foes, but something sure to ruin the halflings clothes when she stepped in it. Cika knew she was supposed to be the sworn enemy of all things magical, but this halfling struck her as simply a confused person that had unwittingly began trusting in the ruinous powers of magic and not a truly evil person deserving of death.

Surely a harmless prank and some parting words of advice would help set her on the right path. The look on the seer’s face had been priceless, and as she vanished from sight Cika had felt a strong sense of approval from the forest around her, as well as a sudden surge of power. Without really understanding how she knew it, Cika had realized that she had just been granted a powerful gift from nature itself. Learning how to use it had been almost instinctual, channeling natural energy through her hands to heal herself or anything close to her.

Unfortunately, not all of nature seemed to share the forest’s approval. Insects and wolves still tried to ravage her on sight, and one forbidding tree in the center of a crumbling set of ruins had even attacked her directly, in defiance of logic and common knowledge. No matter how hard she looked, Cika could see no sign of the hedge wizard she sought. The worn forest path twisted and turned, eventually leading to a small lake. It would have been an idyllic sight, if not for the enormous troll humming an off-tune ditty while peering over an equally enormous cauldron.

Cika could see the gutted remains of a halfling being lowered into the cauldron and stirred with a long silvery rod. Anger filling her, Cika spat viciously at the troll. The wad of poison ricocheted off the troll’s hide and killed a passing rabbit, as well as the wolf stalking it a little further away. She had only an instant to ponder the unusual ballistic properties of her attack before the troll turned toward her and began to charge. Spitting again, Cika turned and ran. Her poison didn’t do nearly enough damage to hurt the enormous troll, and she did -not- want to let it get close enough to use its club on her.

For the second time, the slime trail ended up saving her life. The mad troll chased her doggedly, even as it fell victim to the poison it splashed on itself with every step it took. Eventually it simply fell to the forest floor and lay still. Panting, Cika edged closer to the corpse. There was something odd about the silvery rod it still clutched in its hand. With a start, Cika realized what it was. A rod of recall, a fabled device made by a long-dead civilization, crafted of pure voratun!

It took more than a little effort to dash the thoughts of selling it and making a fortune. Such an artifact must surely be arcane, and must therefore be destroyed. Grasping the rod and pulling, Cika was surprised to realize that she didn’t feel any arcane taint within the rod. There was a power in it utterly unlike that of magic, yet just as distant from her own power. Pausing to consider the matter, Cika decided to hold onto the item for now. She didn’t feel her stomach clench in protest as she held it, unlike with arcane items, so it was probably safe to use. However, it would be irresponsible to sell it to an unsuspecting merchant before knowing for sure. Just because it wasn’t magical didn’t necessarily mean that it was safe or pure.

Going back to the troll’s pot to bury the halfling, Cika made another discovery. The halfling’s foot- and only its foot- was imbued strongly with magic. The troll’s campfire had no effect on it, and she was unable to crush it with the mossy rocks she carried around with her as concentration aids. Reluctantly, she was forced to wrap it in cloth and carry it with her. Maybe she could find someone that could help her destroy it later on.

Cika was about to leave when she noticed a map near the troll’s encampment, detailing how to find someone called “Bill” in childlike script. Curiosity overcoming good sense, she followed the map to its destination.

+6 Will, +3 Cun, +1 Slime Spit, +2 Mucus, +1 Acid Splash, +2 Resolve

Never again, NEVER AGAIN will I let curiosity overcome me like that. Cika swore as she rounded the corner of the narrow forest corridor she found herself in and came face to face with a pack of five trolls. Four of them were the dull brutish things she was used to fighting, but the fifth was an absolute monster. If the troll with an appetite for halfling was big, then this one was HUGE.

Panicking, Cika looked around her for a way to escape, but found none. Willing herself like never before, she concentrated on a patch of ground underneath the lead troll and pictured her familiar slime erupting from it. To her surprise, it actually worked this time. Acidic slime violently erupted from the ground, splashing everyone caught inside the area. Cika spat at the trolls and ran, letting her slime trail create a trap for any followers. So caught up in running was she that at first she didn't notice the way the slime extended further away from her than ever before, pooling a few feet in front of her and to the sides.

The troll rushed forward, smashing its club against Cika's head with sickening force. As it raised its weapon high above its head for another swing, Cika briefly touched her head and channeled nature's healing energies, then set off running again. The troll followed, madness and hunger glinting in its eyes. As it caught up to her once more, Cika turned and spat poison in its face. Thankfully, it was the final straw needed to kill the brute. Cika only barely dodged the troll's falling body in time. Looting the corpse, she found a glowing vial of liquid that was infused with the power of nature, and an enormous tooth from some creature mounted on a stick. To her surprise, it radiated the same type of power as the Rod of Recall. Definitely something to hang onto. It didn't look like much of a weapon, but maybe it could be used for digging.

Further in the troll's lair, she discovered a hoard of gems and a strange chest that radiated the same power as the tooth and the Rod of Recall. Had the trolls here stumbled upon an ancient cache of Sher'tul artifacts? Items placed inside the chest had no weight at first, but would pop out of the chest on their own after a time. Most unusual.

Since there was no sign of the hedge wizard that had brought her there in the first place, Cika decided to head on home for now. Maybe it didn't exist after all.

[jenx]

Wow. well written

[orange<]

These stories are awesome. I hope more writers start sharing their adventures.

[Velorien]

Imaginative, with a fluent, enjoyable prose style. I look forward to reading more of this.

[darkgod]

Moar!