Private Tertus Valley Just another day in paradise

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Since his goblin hunting adventures, he had taken up the nomadic lifestyle. It was important to keep fighting if he was going to continue getting stronger. Something had changed in Herculean in finding the motivation to keep going during a rather boring period in his life. While traveling from place to place he would take up work on farms or clearing up dangerous wildlife. One of the many adventures he would be a simple one in a farmer needed a hill cleared of goblins which he would do for free.

The slow mastery of his metamorphic skill slowly but surely started blending into his body more. The stronger he got the more defined and stronger his body showed. Herculean stood at a staggering height of seven feet tall and his body was covered with thick kevlar skin. The natural skin was knotted and twisted were hard battles were fought. The crocodile's body showed scars and various wounds that would normally be lethal to most heal over time. On top of natural armor, he was wearing heavy-plated armor almost something out evil knight. By his side was a weapon that fit for something his size. A large two-handed sword made out of enchanted metal with a fancy decorated sword hilt.

The lumbering giant of a man would find the goblin encampment, it was small and filled with what looked non warriors types. Wasting not a moment but to get the jump on the camp immediately. He wouldn't need to transform as he began his rampage by grabbing the head goblin keeping guard and squeezing till his head popped in his grip like a Robin's egg. At some point, the warriors would show up so he would take his time. Boredly trying to draw as much action to him as possible. He didn't really care if it was another player or the backup but he would enjoy himself in the meantime.

@Subparman
 
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Hm. Bit nippy out.


Speaking mostly to keep himself company, Schilva Flasch continued to meander down the plain trodden-dirt path that led away into the sparsely-farmsteaded wilderness of the Tertus Valley, silently cursing himself for not being aware enough of the chill-inducing elevation to bring an extra layer. The shadows of clouds passing over the land were his only companions on this journey.

Whilst Schilva would have liked to say that his secluded training in the woods had given him a taste for solo adventuring, this wasn't of his own choice. For whatever reason he could not begin to fathom, nobody had responded to his frankly generous public posting of an open-party offer; to go forth into the land, performing heroic deeds alongside and indeed in the name of the Evil-Rending Blade!

That was himself, of course, and the lion's share of glory and spoils would by right be his, if anyone had joined him. Which nobody had. Quite mysterious, yes! Why would anyone pass up such a chance to party up under the banner of the great Schilva Flasch!? Nobody had good taste these days...

As he shuffled along with varied thoughts of that kind pinballing around his wandering mind, Schilva paid little note to his surroundings until he could hear shouting, addressed in his general direction. Turning his eyes from the beaten path, he squinted at the source of the noise and found himself looking over towards a crude farmhouse, built adjacent to a paddock of grazing livestock.

A farmer, clad in grubby overalls and waving a half-unraveled straw hat, was clearly waving towards him and beckoning him closer. As the wind calmed, the words they were shouting became clear, and Schilva's interest was instantly piqued.

A hero! A Starcalled hero! Yes, that's right, you must be one of those, right?



Already marching forth with a newfound swagger in his step, Schilva's response was of course a resounding;

Obviously! Have you not heard of the great Schilva Flasch?!




Turns out that no, no, they hadn't. This particular livestock drover had only moved out into the Valley a few months prior, hoping to find a larger plot of land to ranch their animals, but had immediately run into problems with the existing local wildlife.

Namely, while there weren't any serious predators like Dissonant Beasts or Ascent Reapers around, a tribe of goblins that had apparently moved into the area around the same time had taken the proximity of the ranch to their hillocky nest as an invitation to stage infrequent poaching raids, carrying off the farmer's hard work every so often whenever they and their farmhands weren't looking.

Afraid of being gradually bled dry, the farmer had considered shelling out what little profits the farm had made to hire adventurers from Gardibrook to take care of the issue, but doing so would likely mean that they would have to proverbially start over from square one.

Listening to the rancher's anxious explanation, Schilva sipped at the meagre amount of weak tea that they had scraped up together after having invited the swordsman in. The farm had been hit enough times now that the only 'snacks' they had left to cater to guests were some hardtack biscuits that Schilva politely declined.
He wouldn't want to impose more than a drink of tea on the already troubled Lander! Yeah, that was definitely it.

So let me get this straight. You want me to...work for exposure?


Oh, er, w-well you see, ser Flasch, we Tertus Valley farmers know each other well; I know it ain't much, but I'll make sure every farmsteader I get in touch with knows your name from here on, if you could just help out with this!



Watching the farmer wringing their hands around the rim of their already tattered hat, Schilva could only sigh into the chipped teacup at his lips. It wasn't what he'd been hoping for when he'd come out this far, that was for sure. Still, if what he was told was true...

Knocking his head back and downing the drink in one go, Schilva would smack his lips and put the cup back down. Getting to his feet with the best determined thousand-yard glare he could muster, Schilva makes sure that he stands at just the right angle for a strip of sunlight to dramatically shine across his face.

Alright then, point me at the nest. Expect me back by sundown.


Surely, Schilva thought to himself as he left, surely I'll become the talk of the valley after this.
After all, it wasn't like Travelers passed through this area often. If he played his cards right, he could be a household name on the Tertorian frontier! Yes, that's exactly it; an area with few players was perfect for making a name among Landers!



That's what Schilva was thinking, at least, all the way on his climb to the hillock nest. Which is why he now stands, dumbstruck, watching this gigantic, er, crocodile...man...thing...tearing into the nest like an anteater through a termite mound.

What the...???


Brandishing his sword and gawking openly, Schilva couldn't care less that he'd given away the element of surprise now, and that reinforcements from outside the nest would soon arrive. Right now, the chief question on his mind was;

But...but this is MY QUEST! Who the hell are you!?!?



@Herculean Drakecon
 
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He was distracted by the chaos that was going on around him mindless swatting at goblins turning them into bloody smears. Something about the encounter was interesting, to say the least, two people had shown up. Grabbing one goblin by the neck and holding it as it squirmed in his grip clawing and biting.

Oi what do you mean by your quest? Someone gave me this quest who actually needed it.

His hands casually crushed the skull of the goblin in his hand and tossed the corpse away. Putting a hand on his chin and tapping it gently thinking. This would be great farming so this land could be first come first serve. He shrugged a took a moment to look at the two people in front of him to quickly gauge them. His HUD appeared in front of him and gauged from their equipment they were decently well prepared for anything. He wasn't one to step on people's toes with quests. Drawing his own sword and got up resting it on his shoulder. The great sword with a single cleave cut down the last of the tents and any goblin hiding in them. The damage done so far completely destroyed the camp around him. All the goblins were either cleaved into two pieces or crushed by his hands.

Oh right sorry about that I guess introductions are in order. Herculean Drakeson is the name. It seems we are at an impasse i am afraid I have a sense of honor and duty. To be fair. There is surely a way to solve this. Maybe we can get the farmers we both came here for to have some kind of deal.

@Subparman
 
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There was no room for Schilva to even get a single kill in as the massive reptilian man worked his way almost mechanically through the nest, casually making a bloody scene of the goblins. None of the creatures' crude weaponry could make a mark on the guy's hardened natural armour, and the massacre was soon over as the executioner's massive blade smashed down with more blunt than slashing force, turning the central tent into a mess of torn fabric and spilled guts.

...




...all without Schilva having played a role at all. The swordsman could only watch in slightly-open-mouthed awe as his hopes for cultivating a good name in the region was snapped up and evaporated just like that. Whatever @Herculean Drakecon had in mind of honourable recompense or whatnot hadn't even slightly crossed Schilva's mind, only the crushing disappointment of having what he still thought of as 'his' quest completed ahead of his own arrival.



Schilva Flasch, Master of the Godspeed Slash, Divine Kengo, Veteran of Fever, et cetera, et cetera. I mean, I can tell you've not the good fortune to hear of my name yet, though, seeing as...



Wearing a gloomy expression as he gestured at the remnants of carnage all around, Schilva had the good sense to at least listen to the fellow Starcalled's explanation of the situation before jumping to accusations. Well, considering how goblins usually operated, it wasn't surprising that there were multiple farmsteads that they were leeching off of.

Well, I guess what's done is done. I just want to make sure, though; a different guy sent you here, right? I got this request from a farmer from that direction, about this tall, grubby hat and overalls, raises livestock...I was supposed to do this for exposure or something...



Putting aside his upset sense of pride at being beat to the punch, Schilva points in the direction he came from, describing the questgiver he'd run into, trying to gauge if Herculean had gotten a better deal than he had. Gritting his teeth together in his head and cursing himself for not getting this done as quickly as he should have, Schilva resolves to figure out exactly what the issue was in this situation...as well as why this big crocodile-man-thing sounded somehow familiar to him.
 
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Schilva was an interesting character so far at least. Herc has met a bunch of different characters so far. Several people stood out to him both Ruby and Songbird came to mind. It had been so long since he had seen or talked to them that he needed to catch up with them. For now, the situation they were in was an interesting one. While he had to honor his end of the deal with the goblins, he could do more for the farmer in question. With a flick of his wrist, the sword disappeared into a black mist. Pulling off his helmet to look at Schilva.

"Aw well, a lot of very fancy titles and a veteran player which is even more impressive. I am slightly jealous actually I wonder if I will ever earn a title one day."

a big stupid grin would spread across his face for a moment then had to focus on the task at hand. With both of them on the same task, he put forth another idea that came across his mind.

"A warrior should always strive to make the world around them a better place. While we could get something out of his money of course. If you are interested in collecting another title or maybe your name in a huge headline. Granted fame could be another thing we get from this. I am searching for something but I can say this was all your idea."

He would approach schilva and now be standing next to him with a smile on his face .herc was always one to put others in front of himself even if they wanted fame or something more. This situation called for back up so he was more than willing to forgo any money or fame if meant help. Waving his hand and inviting him to a group so he could share his quest. As soon as he allowed it he would share what the farmer looked like and where he met him. The details were very off, to say the least, but it was something for them to investigate.

"For the help Mr.Schilva I am more than willing to give up any rewards or fame this gives us. Between the two of us really no one is really going to question if you are the one in charge. Kinda tropey right but it works enough given our situation. Plus think of the sweet fame you could get if you got an actual co-op going with farmers. Could even get as big huge trade caravans to other parts of the terrasphere. A lot of people could always use food! I am following your lead...boss"

The boss part would make him actually laugh out loud. Dont know if felt comfortable with it but he knew when it was important to play a part. Herc wasn't a vet yet so seeing his guy in action could probably give him some skill ideas.


@Schilva Flasch
 
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@Herculean Drakecon...hm, no good, the name rang no bells. Still wary of the hulking stranger, Schilva kept himself at a distance of an arm's length (the other guy's, not his own, obviously) as they doffed their helm. Underneath, though, was a sight that he'd not expected to see; a familiar face from a very, very long time ago.

Hey, wait a second...I know you! We've met! Red Fever? Yeah, must have been.



Relaxing somewhat at least, with the knowledge that they've met as allies on the battlefield before, Schilva regards the reptilian man with a little less suspicion. The last of that, too, was immediately dispersed by the unintentional flattery that followed.

Huh, well, y'know, it's not that impressive...I mean, yes, it is impressive! But there are ever greater heights of heroism that I have achieved, all of which my words alone cannot express, haha!



With a grin as wide and bright as Herculean's, Schilva couldn't keep the rosy colour out of his cheeks as he listened to Herculean's proposal to attribute this success elsewhere. That dampened the joyous gleam in Schilva's eyes as, momentarily, he felt a pang of guilt for essentially stealing Herculean's thunder for his work.

As the group request came in and he naturally accepted it, Schilva continued listening to Herculean explain the prospective good that they could do if they worked together in seeing this to the end. It wasn't like he didn't believe in accomplishing the greater good, but looking at the big guy next to him...

Ugh, he was practically radiating the sort innocent heroism that was often so annoyingly hard to compete against. Funnily enough, the way things were working out here, Herculean seemed to be better at PR than Schilva himself, which put a bitter taste in his mouth.

Even so, was this not what heroes do?
...yeah. It sure was.

Hmm, alright, Herc. I can call you that, right? Just making sure. Alright, so, here's my take; you should know, I work alone. Usually. But, seeing as we're both working towards bettering this world, I guess I could lend my hand in this case. It's a deal.
And...I suppose, being the one taking charge, I'm going to be doing most of the work, but that doesn't mean you can slack off, got it? Y'best be takin' notes and stuff!



He couldn't help but feel better immediately as he heard himself referred to as 'boss'. Was this...did he just graduate to the status of mentor by doing nothing at all? Well, he would take that and run with it, regardless; never look a gift horse in the mouth, right?

Okay, now we've got the grand plan sorted, let's get back to it; first stop, let's get to the bottom of this issue. We'll check with your guy first, then we can go back to the farmer I met and give him the good news.

 
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Herculean had completely forgotten about the red fever events recently. It seemed like a distant memory in the recent path he was going on. He never forgot a face who fought around him. Maybe it was a fated meeting in history. He would admittedly feeling a little bit embarrassed at not recognizing his face at first. Though he was distracted with the task at that still not an excuse.

"Oi i remember you now as well sorry about not seeing it before. That was a long time ago now which looking back at it was pretty important. I hope you've become stronger in the time we haven't seen each other.

Herc was grateful to meet a warrior on a quest which meant this task was going to be easy enough. For hero to keep the title he would have to raise up people around him as well. With a smile on his face both warriors seemingly lined up and it was time to get to work. While he was the one in charge he went to work leading him to the farmhouse with the quest given to him. As he approached something smelled of with each step closer to the place. Taking another hard sniff he would smell coal burning hot, Not just regular coal forge coal. Another distinct smell that would steel burning and the smell of blood.

"We need to stop something isn't right when is the last time a farmer needed a forge? When i was inside the house i didn't forge tools. Another thing i smell if blood not sure if monster or human but blood all the same.

He would first look at the farm itself which was fairly large when someone sat down and looked at. A farmer's home with an empty stable. From the distance they were both at he couldn't smell or see any livestock. Strangely enough this place had its feeders full feed and hay. Another thing here noticed was that is had a lack of farm hands. With another set of buildings beyond his sight that looked like tower made of metal. Herc's gut feeling told them they should be hiding and without saying a word he quickly move schilva into cover. Shrinking his massive frame to fit the cover they were in and would poke his head out. Focusing his eyes and nose. Sniffing more he would smell human blood and lots of it. His nose picked up on another hard pungent smell. A familiar one maybe goblin or hobgoblin at best. This smell was familiar to him now. It was the red fever,it had to be his face got serious as he turned his toward schliva.

"
T-this isn't i smell blood,forge work and red fever i know that smell too well. This might be above our pay grade but if the red fever is coming back with the help of goblins. We have duty to put a stop to it boss..we owe to all those who died that day. So whats the next step from here? We going in loud and proud or sneaking in and investigating.

@Schilva Flasch
 
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@Herculean Drakecon was a much better person than Schilva. By Schilva's reckoning, a distinguished hero such as he wasn't obligated to dedicate overmuch of such a brilliant brain's processing capacity to remembering some rando he'd brushed shoulders with months ago...

But hey, Herc was a friend, no question about it! How'd that one adage go... old friends, like old swords, are best to rely on, and clearly someone who saw the true value of Schilva's tutelage must have that kind of best interest at heart. Never mind that he was simply being tickled pink by all this unwitting flattery that Herc's honesty had been interpreted as...

Hah! Have I become stronger? You just wait, friend - I've been doing all sorts of ascetic training and questing in the wilderness and such things heroes do, finding myself and my spirit; strengthening the bond between my sword and soul, you know...


Gods, he was on it again. The entire way to the farmstead, Herc would have not a moment of respite from Schilva's rambling, something that was obviously attached to his good mood. Could you blame the man? As of recent memory, at least, he'd hardly any chances to celebrate his wins properly, after all.

...and could you believe it, the gall to kick me into the lake when I was just done t- uagh!?


That was why, even as Herculean's instincts pricked sharply and accurately to the reek of the Fever, Schilva was completely out of the loop and struggled briefly as he was pulled into cover - the wiry frame of the swordsman was nothing in the face of the metamorphed warrior's outsize strength, even as the latter shrank down to a less hulking size.

Schilva wasn't too stupid to realise the seriousness of the situation, though, and settled down to at least hear Herculean out on what had been observed. His own senses were nowhere near that advanced, but even he could see what was wrong with the setting; that fortress-like construction definitely did not look like something that belonged on a farm, not to mention the complete lack of farmhands or livestock around.

Huh. You're right. Something terrible's happened here.


Locking eyes with Herculean, the giddy joyous Schilva disappears in an instant as the stakes of the situation are immediately made clear. If there was anything he had learned in his time fighting the various monstrosities that threatened Arcia, it was that small neglects and minutiae always built up towards greater calamities.

Herculean was right indeed; if the Fever had somehow crossed the species barrier and begun to infect non-insect carriers, it could spread like wildfire across the land, bringing untold chaos and destruction. It had to be nipped in the bud right now - and alone on the frontline was Herculean and himself.

Time to show off what the honorific 'boss' meant to him.

Here's the plan. I zip in and recon, then we pincer attack the main building. It'd help if you can tell me what the layout is like, but if we have to go in blind then so be it.
Either way, I'll be back with intel as soon as possible, and then we can strike the enemies' weakpoint. Otherwise, I'll give you a signal if I'm in trouble.
I can use Aeromancy and Dynamism - fastest swordsman alive, y'know - so it shouldn't get to that point...but just in case.


Hand resting on one katana and waiting only for the fellow Starcalled's call on the plan, Schilva's eyes remained fixed on the farmhouse and the eerie silence that surrounded it.

Time to do heroes' work. Properly.
 
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