Elsewhere
“GOD DAMNIT!”
A man was seen throwing a rather impressive tantrum. He just finished brutalizing one of many chained up goblins in a dungeon. The rest were off to the side, cowering in fear that they would be next.
“I prepared for months, no YEARS, and it’s all been for NOTHING!”
He slammed his hand down on the corpse, making the gruesome scene slightly worse. He turned to face the closest goblin.
“Do you know how much planning it takes to time everything right? To make it look like my giant just happened to be a part of the environmental level shift? I had to consult so many augers, holy men, and soothsayers, that these god forsaken dungeons hold more worth than my coffers!”
The man sat back from his fit and looked around in disgust. He saw his bloody hands and wiped them off on the towel he had prepared before entering the holding cell. When he turned his back, a few of the goblins lunged at him, trying desperately to escape. Unfortunately for them, their restraints kept them from reaching their target. The man just laughed in response.
“Serves you right, you mindless beast...” he mumbled under his breath as he left. He washed his hands in a water basin by the stairway leading up from the dark room. Very few people were privy to its location, and he was the only one to actively come here, besides some guards who occasionally brought new subjects.
Refreshed, the man climbed the stairs and walked through the hidden exit to enter the decorated halls of a castle. While it might not have been much to a noble, it was far fancier than anything Willow had ever seen before, this life or last. Despite this, the mystery man kept walking along, clearly numb to the treasures he walked by.
Maids, butlers, and other servants gave the man a wide berth, bowing deeply as he passed them. They all knew that he wasn’t exactly right in the head, but they also knew that he wouldn't needlessly kill in public, meaning as long as they didn’t outright disrespect the man, they would be fine.
When the lord made it to his office, he was greeted by his personal butler. The gray-haired man bowed to greet him, then he presented a silver tray with three letters on it. The lord just walked past him, and he followed his lord into the room.
“What is it, Alfred? I'm not in the mood for my sister’s shenanigans. My plans have been thwarted, and I need to make more to compensate. This isn’t the time for the usual busy work.”
His butler nodded his head and tucked two of the letters into his vest pocket.
“My Lord Ostlan, the scryer you propositioned this morning has responded. Shall I read it for you?”
Ostlan, as the lord was apparently called, just sat in his chair and waved his hand dismissively. He swiveled in his chair to turn his back on the man and looked at the numerous shelves of books that were now in front of him. Despite all the knowledge they contained, his plan to take over the meager Flora City to the south, and the vast forest between them, has failed.
Alfred opened the last remaining letter and started to speak after a moment.
“It appears that the... asset... is trapped under a vast amount of dirt, and it appears to be encased in a coffin of sorts. She states that the asset is buried in a clearing approximately halfway between the two cities, and that its burial spot is marked by a large, ever-growing tree. There also appears to be an unusually large number of Orc corpses buried in the same clearing. The woman goes so far as to recommend abandoning the asset, claiming that the amount of mana saturating the area rivals that of a death zone.”
Ostlan laughed. “She dares to give ME a recommendation? Toss her in the dungeon for the rest of the day and threaten to take her precious hands the next time she insults me so. I don’t pay for speculations, I want FACTS! And I want to know how my nearly immortal pet was captured!”
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Ostlan turned and banged his hand against his desk. The paper on top slid to the side and almost fell off before he snatched it from midair. Looking at it, he saw it was a copy of his pet’s status sheet that he had written down to boost his confidence in times of worry.
Name: Atlas Race: Giant
Level: 50 Exp: 1,200/15,000
H:100% S:100% M:100%
Con: 201 Agi: 1 Str: 51
Int: 1 Wis: 1 Car: 1
Skills: Regeneration, Pain Resistance, Iron Skin, Piercing Resistance, Iron Stomach, Enhanced Endurance, Paralyzing Shout, Domineering Presence, Enhanced Strength
He knew that as long as he had control of his monstrosity, there was nobody that could stand up to him. At least, none from the nobles. The royals had a monster of their own.
He had bought every dark magic item, every pill of enhancing whatever, and every damned elixir he could find to bolster his trump card. Since he was the master of this monster, he could tell that something had happened to it. Through the bond they shared, he could tell that for a while, the monster was on the brink of death, which alone shouldn’t have been possible. Then something else happened. He could tell that his monster was still technically alive, since he hadn’t gotten the kill notification, but it also wasn’t responding to its master's commands. It was as if... it lost its mind.
Atlas had been Ostlan’s tamed monster ever since he was hatched. Ostlan had bought him at auction for dirt cheap, since nobody dared to attempt outbidding their Lord. Since then, Ostlan had trained the baby giant, pouring hours and days into making sure his monster was as strong as possible. Many villages had gone missing, all going to the growth of his not-so-little trump card.
As Atlas’s master, Ostlan was also able to control his skills and what the level bonuses went towards. From the very first level his pet gained, Ostlan dumped everything into increasing his pet's regeneration. He wanted him to be nigh on immortal. Unfortunately, the skill still held a weakness to fire, but it was trumped by reaching Legendary status at level 40. It took an entire 16 level skill bonuses to reach that point, after which Ostlan started investing in his monster’s enhanced strength. The skills his little pet got along the way were just the cherry on top.
Needless to say, Ostlan was not about to give up on such a large investment.
The still maddened lord tossed the sheet on top of one of the many stacks of probably important documents that he didn't care about at the moment. He then brought out fresh parchment and started writing.
He needed to release his troops from their readier positions. He had been expecting a cry for help from the southern city that he planned to turn into a siege of his own to gain control. Since his plan was foiled, he no longer had need of a full army at the ready.
Next, he needed to find out what being was strong enough to be able to take down his pet. Given how high-level Atlas was, the person who brought it down had to be of a higher level as well. He could tell from the bond that it was only a few minutes between the start of the fight and the end of the fight, which means that they had to be at least in the mid-sixties, but that was just speculation. They did catch his monster off guard, after all.
Also on his docket was finding a way to free his pet. He could always buy a new monster egg from one of the markets, but the resources needed to bring it up to par with Atlas’s strength was too much to consider for now. His vaults were empty, and he needed to wait on tax revenues to come in before he could embark on any more misguided schemes of his.
Ostlan had too much to do and too few people to help him do it.
“Alfred, clear my schedule for the day. I won’t be getting much done other than this, and I need to concentrate. Also, bring me a roster for the Adventurer Guild. I might be needing them to scope the area out. I’d rather not waste any soldiers when everything is so uncertain right now.”
Alfred bowed and left to do his lord’s bidding. He shut the door behind him, leaving his lord alone, with just the guards outside his door.
Willow had been enjoying his sunshine mediation for only a single day when he started feeling weird. There was an uncomfortable feeling at the top of his canopy, where the new growths were coming in. Dismissing it as probably just a woodpecker or something, he went back to his trance-like state.
That lasted for all of 12 hours until he started feeling excruciating pain running through his entire canopy.
How do you feel about the level of murder hobo-ness in "I'm A Tree. Now What?"?
