Chapter 9: The Heart of the Forest
9 0 0
X
Reading Options
Font Size
A- 15px A+
Width
Reset
X
Table of Contents
Loading... please wait.

Gribble's heart pounded like a drum as he ventured deeper into the wild depths of the forest. Giant trees loomed above, their twisted branches reaching for the sky. A musty smell hung thick in the air, hinting at old secrets and unseen beasts hiding in the shadows.

With each careful step, Gribble knew he'd put valuable distance between himself and Grimrock's warlike group. But out here, a single mistake could mean doom. Gribble's sharp eyes restlessly scanned the plants for signs of danger. His pointed ears twitched at the snap of a twig, the rustle of leaves - any hint of a predator ready to strike.

Some of the tension drained from Gribble's tense muscles as he realized he'd earned a short break from Grimrock's relentless chase. Out here, in the forest's unexplored depths, countless dangers still lurked - but at least he could grab a moment's rest from the mad dash for survival. The towering trees seemed to breathe a sigh of relief with him, their leaves whispering a promise of shelter from the goblin warlord's endless bloodlust.

Fear's cold claws gripped Gribble's chest as he realized how far he'd wandered. But an equally strong sense of wonder sparked inside him too. This wild wilderness overflowed with marvels he'd never glimpsed before. 

Glowing plants pulsed with eerie blue and purple light, turning the forest's gloom into an enchanting dreamland. Buzzing insects darted past on wings of shimmering silk. Everywhere Gribble looked, strange beasts prowled - some small and shy, others huge and fearsome.  

Gribble's mind spun with the tantalizing possibilities of what magics he might claim by eating these creatures. A sip of glowbug nectar could grant night vision. Crunching a cockatrice beak might bestow a petrifying gaze. The promise of such powers made his head swim.

Still, the young goblin refused to be lulled into a false sense of security. He understood all too well that for every beast that could give him new abilities, a dozen more saw him as their next tasty meal. Gribble crept onward with practiced stealth, placing each foot with deliberate care to remain undetected. His wiry muscles tensed, ready to spring into desperate action at the first hint of trouble.

Without warning, a flicker of movement shattered Gribble's focus. He pivoted just in time to spy a blink dog shimmering into existence mere steps away. The sleek hound seemed to appear out of thin air, its fur glinting with leftover teleportation magic. 

Gribble froze, scarcely daring to breathe. Never had he encountered a creature of such mesmerizing otherworldliness. The blink dog's piercing stare met his own, its gaze uncannily intelligent. A gravity-defying stillness surrounded the pair as they sized each other up.  

In that breathless moment, Gribble understood he couldn't hesitate. Such a lucky chance might never arise again. Faster than a cobra's strike, he lunged for the mystical canine, hands outstretched and hungry jaws agape.

Before the blink dog could vanish, Gribble's pointed teeth found purchase. They sank into downy flesh as his fingers gripped the hound's pelt. Yipping in startled pain, his prey thrashed, but Gribble's hold remained true.

Ripping free the still-beating heart, he crammed the gory organ into his mouth and gulped it down. In a dizzying rush, the blink dog's unfathomable teleportation energy flooded Gribble's veins. Power seared through him in painful waves, rewriting his very being. Gasping, he doubled over as new magic settled into his bones.  

When the sensation faded, Gribble straightened with renewed purpose. The blink dog's might thrummed inside him now, begging to be unleashed. With a thought, he could travel great distances in the blink of an eye. The confidence this ability gave bordered on reckless abandon.

Drunk on his expanded horizons, Gribble forged onward into the forest's untamed heart. His hunter's gaze raked the underbrush for signs of other rare prey. A smear of vivid crimson in the distance seized his focus with startling intensity. His breath caught as realization dawned.

A dragontooth flower! How did he know? Grandfather's tales of the fabled bloom, with petals that granted the power of flame, flooded Gribble's mind. Gramps had been a true master of the wilds, sharing his hard-earned wisdom with an eager young Gribble. He could still picture the wizened goblin's face as he recounted past glories and gave dire warnings.  

And now, unbelievably, one of those mythical flowers blazed like a coal mere yards away. Gribble approached with reverent caution, terrified that the illusion might dissolve. But the dragontooth flower remained vividly real, pulsing with barely restrained heat as he stretched out a trembling hand to pluck it.

The flower seared Gribble's flesh like a brand, making him hiss through clenched teeth. Pushing past the pain with grim determination, he raised the glowing petals to his lips. The dragontooth bloom's magic aura pressed against his skin, scorching and tempting in equal measure.

Gribble took a steadying breath, then bit down. Instantly, the flower dissolved on his tongue in an explosion of spice and smoke. Liquid fire gushed down his throat to pool in his belly before spreading through his body like an inferno. Every last cell crackled with awakening power.  

When the storm of sensation finally calmed, Gribble examined his hands with a sense of wonder. His very skin seemed to shine, as if lit by some inner radiance. He curled his fingers inward, concentrating hard, and a spherical flicker kindled to life above his palm.

A dragon's flame, no larger than a peanut yet radiating impossible heat, wavered before Gribble's astonished gaze. The dragontooth flower had sparked an ability as thrilling as it was terrifying. Only with devoted practice and focus could Gribble hope to control this roaring blaze. But the effort would be more than worth it.

Snuffing the flame with a thought, Gribble soldiered deeper into the wild woods. The trees pressed close now, their twisting trunks forming a tight tunnel. A chorus of animal cries and strange birdcalls echoed eerily through the gloom. Even the air tasted heavier, thick with earthy mystery.  

Gribble sensed he'd nearly reached the forest's throbbing heart. A faint whisper reached his ears, hinting at flowing water. Slinking over wild underbrush and sticking-up roots, he emerged onto the bank of a hidden river. Sparkly light danced over its crystal-clear surface, throwing rainbows on the odd tree standing guard over the waters.

Gribble boggled at the tree's peculiar shape. Like a great glass jar, it rose from a gnarled trunk to a bulging crown fringed in emerald leaves. An almost imperceptible hum came from the tree, resonating in his bones.

Then Gribble spied it: a lone seed pod dangling from the canopy like a ripe plum. Rich chestnut brown and shiny as a polished river stone, the massive nut seemed to tug at his very soul. Tales of such rare fruits, filled with unimaginable magic, returned to him in a rush.

Gribble yearned to claim the seed with a desperation that stole his breath. Bounding to the tree with monkey-like agility, he scurried up its rough bark and out onto a sturdy branch. The chestnut's alluring scent filled his nostrils as he wrapped eager fingers around its sun-warmed husk.

Holding the seed pod with barely contained excitement, Gribble dropped back to the soft earth. Power hummed against his skin like a second heartbeat, begging to be unleashed. He needed this magic. It would be the key that unlocked his potential at last.

With slightly shaking hands, Gribble raised the chestnut to his mouth. Its shell resisted for only a moment before splintering between his strong teeth with a satisfying crunch. Wonderful flavor burst over his tongue, all caramel richness and faintly medicinal tang. He worked his jaw, grinding the dense flesh to a pulp, then gulped it down greedily.  

Gribble's knees nearly buckled as the seed's magic took hold. It erupted through him in a dizzying flood, filling muscle and bone, racing down nerve pathways to awaken new connections. He broke out in a light sweat, panting shallowly, as the sensation slowly faded to a bearable tingle.

Composing himself, Gribble shut his eyes and inhaled deeply. He'd never felt so connected to the seething energy of the natural world. It was like a vast circulatory system, power flowing from root to leaf, mouse to hawk, clouds to sea and back again in an endless cycle. And now Gribble could tap into that primal network.  

Reaching out with his thoughts, he probed the rich earth beneath his feet, sensing the tendrils of roots and swarming microbes. Gribble focused his will. A surge of triumph jolted through him as a cluster of vines burst from the soil in a spray of dirt. Supple and strong, the creepers twined up a nearby trunk like muscular serpents.

Gribble had grown drunk on his growing abilities, the intoxicating rush of newfound might blotting out all thoughts of Grimrock. His joy curdled to dread as a terrible sound intruded on his dreaming. The unmistakable clank of marching soldiers and clashing weapons swelled louder with each breath. A horrifying realization turned Gribble's blood to ice.  

There could be only one explanation: Grimlock had sent a war party to crush Gribble's growing abilities. They came to cut him down before his potential could truly bloom, like wolves culling an upstart from the pack.

Gribble's heart hammered painfully against his ribs as the first goblin warriors emerged from the trees. The dying sun flashed off their drawn blades and spike-studded armor. He was hopelessly outnumbered, his baby powers untested in battle. Cold sweat prickled Gribble's brow.

But beneath the fear, something else kindled. The seed of a courage Gribble had never known before took root in his heart. He couldn't let Grimlock snuff out his destiny like a sputtering candle. Not after how far he'd come, all he'd endured and accomplished. This would not be his end.  

A great roar tore itself from Gribble's throat, startling in its intensity. He clawed deep inside himself, seizing hold of every scrap of magic energy still flickering through his body. The blink dog's space magic, the dragontooth's fiery curse, the vine seed's plant might - Gribble drew them around himself like an executioner's cloak.

As Grimlock's forces charged, Gribble exploded into action. One moment he stood braced for impact, the next he was behind the front line in a disorienting flicker. Mini fireballs burst from his outflung hands, sizzling flesh and igniting hair. Vines snaked from the earth to snare legs and send soldiers sprawling.  

Steel sang and warriors howled as the battle turned into a chaotic melee. Gribble phased in and out of the fray, hurling flames and lashing with his vine whips. But for every foe he felled, three more surged forward. These veteran soldiers moved with a deadly precision his clumsy magic couldn't match.  

Even as he fought with berserk abandon, Gribble understood a grim truth in his bones. This was merely the first battle in a war that would consume his life. Grimlock, that honorless cur, would never give up. He'd throw soldier after soldier at Gribble until one of them inevitably won.

So he battled on, a storm of desperate magic and goblin ferocity. When a sword bit into his thigh, painting his pants crimson, Gribble snarled and kicked the offending soldier into a tree. When an arrow streaked past his ear, he sent a jet of green flame roaring back at the archer.   

The forest blurred into a smear of color and violence. Gribble's overtaxed body burned with exhaustion. But inch by blood-bought inch, he managed to teleport, scorch and entangle his way free of the heaving clash. Panting like a wounded dire wolf, he hovered at the battlefield's edge.

Pain. Fear. Rage. Gribble shoved them all into a dark hole in his mind. In their place, a cold, clear purpose crystallized. He would crawl through hell itself if it granted him the power to purge the rot eating his tribe from within. Starting with that honorless mongrel Grimlock.  

But such dreams had to wait. He needed to get clear before the goblin soldiers regrouped for another attack. Already they rushed at Gribble, caked in gore and ash, eyes alight with murderous intent.

With a groan, Gribble forced his battered body into motion, limping deeper into the hungry forest. A breeze sighed through the leaves, sounding almost expectant. The wild world waited with bated breath to see what the baby goblin champion would become.

0