Cat Core, Chapter 20.

Chapter 20.

The exit to the dungeon snapped shut, cutting off anyone from the outside. Typically, this was a non-event for Florence, an automated process that happened during each delve. This time, it sounded like the toll of doom as the party of four scraggly adventurers entered. The one with the two axes led the way, sniffing the air like he was an animal. Florence could see Obi and Shadow begin their approach through the tall grass, ready to strike when the mailbox trap triggered, a tactic they had used to some success.

“Go, kill!” The scrawny man with the dog said, releasing his evil looking hound. The monster sized dog sniffed once and charged for where Obi was lurking. Passing by the mailbox, the crossbow trap activated, sending a bolt into the side of the dog, who shrugged it off like it weren’t nothing.

Obi, seeing that his cover had been blown, leaped in the air, at his foe, claws out and hissing. Florence was shocked to see the hound rear up and snatch her poor baby from the air. Obi slashed his front claws against the hound’s muzzle dealing minor scratches, his reach hampered by the hound’s grip on the back of his neck. With a grunt, the hound bit down, bones crunched, and poor Obi had his head done bit off. Licking his lips, the hound reacted a moment too late as shadow completed her leap, landing on the back of the dog, biting and scratching with everything she had, eager to get revenge for her friend Obi.

The monster hound howled in pain as shadow dug in, unable to turn his thick neck around to get a good grip. It turned out the dog didn’t need to, as the man with the giant club swung at the spitting cat, turning her poor baby into pulp. With the last cat down, the intruders paused to loot the bodies, saying nothing as they inspected the front door. The big dog growled as the skinny man pulled the crossbow bolt from his side. Chanting, the skinny man did some mumbo jumbo dancing thing as a green glow moved from his hand, down the leash and onto the wounds the hound had received, healing them before Florence’s eyes.

“Well, they do appear formidable, don’t they,” Doug said. Florence couldn’t find any fault with her babies; they had done as well as they could. Sadly, it just looked like they were outclassed by these adventurers.

“The living room’ll give ‘em a good whooping,” Florence said, trying more to convince herself than to convince Doug.

“Yes, well, don’t feel that you need to show any restraint with this group, their intentions are obvious.  You do tend to forget your summoner ability, use it wisely,” Doug offered. Normally, she would get a bit cross at him trying to boss her around, but he was just trying to help, and he was correct that she had to find the perfect time to unleash her ability.

“Rude,” Florence said as the twin with the club kicked in her lovely front door. The other twin roared and ran inside the living room, his body glowing red as the man seemed to swell in size, his pair of axes flashing around him like a giant red blender. Midnight and Tater met the man at the entrance, both taking serious wounds from the axes before latching onto their target. Tater bit down on the leather armor covering the man’s stomach, his first bite foiled by the metal rings in the armor, while one of his front claws found purchase, digging through a gap between the rings and causing a deep wound that welled with blood.

One after another the axe man focused both blades on her babies, cutting down Midnight and then poor little Tater. Her kitties had done her proud, inflicting obviously painful wounds on the man and distracting him for the follow up attack by Bhargath and Baxter. The attack from above was unexpected and the two both landed on opposite shoulders, digging into the axe wielding man’s unarmored neck and face.

“Off my brother!” The other twin said, swinging his club at Baxter who saw the attack coming and dropped to the carpet, avoiding the club but landing right into the jaws of the hound. Another crunch of the dog’s jaws saw another of Florence’s babies taken out. Bhargath lived up to his name tearing at his foe who was distracted. The blow from his brother’s club had clipped the axe wielder’s shoulder, spinning him around. Both cat and man squealed as a flurry of sharp thorns slammed into Bhargath, knocking him from the man, several also piercing the axe man’s armor, adding to his wounds.

“We’ve got this, Tabak, save your magic for healing, it looks like we’ll need it,” the skinny man ordered. Tabak nodded in agreement, shocking Florence who though the shirtless guy had been in charge, but it looked like the skinny feller was the boss. The axe man finished off an unmoving Bhargath, pausing as they looked for other threats. Sadly, none of them were bothering to check every nook and cranny like most of them adventurers did, leaving Doug’s fireplace trap unused.

The shirtless man then began healing the wounded guy with the axes. Florence saw his magic, like the skinny fellers, was a different color than the healing light that the other healers gave off. Unlike the gold and white of the other healers, this was a sickly green. Ugly color or not, the magic seemed to work, slowly healing the injured man.

“We should wait for my mana to regenerate, I’m almost out,” Tabak advised.

“You still have your totems, but I think we can spare some time, it’s not like this weak dungeon can do anything and there’s no way for the adventurers to get in,” skinny guy said. The party of four just sat on the floor, sadly none were curious enough to peek into the fireplace. After several minutes, shirtless announced his mana was recharged enough to continue. With the axe twin leading the way, they entered the hallway.

“I think we should send this group through the Home for Unwanted Goblins,” Florence said.

“I agree, these are obviously higher level than the other adventurers we’ve seen, but not by too much that we can’t beat them,” Doug said, bolstering her confidence. Watching as the party began to try and fend off the lighting fast attacks of Buddy, Princess, and Mortimer. They took some slashes to their legs and shirtless took a long slice along his bare chest, served him right for going around without a shirt on.

They seemed confused over how the cats could appear out of different doors, strike, and then disappear. The dog in particular was howling and barking up a storm, frustrated that his jaws seemed just too slow to catch the elusive kitties. Shirtless shouted another word before throwing down on of the stick things that skinny had called a totem. Florence couldn’t understand what the man said, but the word held some power and that made her feel a bit sick.

The totem stuck into the lovely hallway floors, where it began to glow red. When the next cat jumped out, Princess this time, the totem launched a small ball of fire faster than even her kitty. Princess was hit in the side, yowling as the magic burned into her, causing her to miss her exit and slam into the wall instead. That dirty hound was there a waitin’ for the kitty, ending her like he done to the others.

Buddy was next out of one of the doors, this time at head height, claws slashing at the shirtless man. He got in a good swipe, cutting bloody furrows in the man’s cheek that were good and deep if the amount of blood flowing from them was any indicator. Another fireball launched, but it was too slow this time, the magic totem delaying its firing for too long when Buddy passed by shirtless. It looked like the magic stick wouldn’t attack if one of them scraggly folk were in the way.

Mortimer didn’t have as much luck, flying by to take a hunk out of the dog, getting his licks in just afore a fireball caught him in the face, ending her poor baby. Buddy seemed to get the hint, using the intruders as cover for his attacks, getting three more good ones in before the axe twin cut him down with a lucky hit.

While Buddy was making his last stand, Florence moved her view to the goblin home. There were now a total of forty-seven of the little green creeps, as a few more had gone to use the disgusting pole method of reproduction.

“Hey Chuck, heads up, we need your help to defend our home, four adventurers and a dog will be there shortly,” Florence advised.

“Good, we fight, we kill for Florence and Kitten Doug,” Chuck replied, shouting for his motley crew of goblins to gather up their weapons.

Back in the hallway, her trio of babies may have been taken down, but they had done some damage, inflicting numerous wounds on the party. Shirtless Tabak healed them back up and they waited again for his mana to regenerate, the man warning that he was nearing his regeneration cap, good news as far as Florence was concerned. The skinny guy healed the dog again, Doug telling her it looked like his class was some sort of pet leader guy and they usually had abilities to heal their companions for a set amount each day, an amount that it looked like shirtless had reached, as this time, several of the scratches on the dog remained only partially healed.

“I think we’re wearing them down, but it looks like they’re bypassing the sewing room,” Doug said as the party checked the door at the end of the hallway for traps, oblivious to her switching the doorway’s destination.

“Bob and Stubbs will begin patrolling after they open the door, with any luck they hit them in the rear when our foes are tied up with the goblins,” Doug said. This was the first time she had felt the need to link the goblin room, both Vanderman and Korbo’s groups had never threatened her and she was loath to dump them into a room full of screaming goblins.

The axe twin opened the door to the goblin room, charging in with that red glowy axe spinning trick he had used when they first entered. The man crashed into a line of spear wielding goblins, cutting down several, but taking blows in return. Chuck stayed in the back of the mob, shouting encouragement and criticism in equal parts. Club twin came to his brother’s aid, even as the hound charged in, claws latching onto a victim as his bulky body tossed aside the little green defenders. The attackers kept well clear of the sandbox near the entrance, somehow realizing that it was a trap, though as she though about it, Florence figured the smell itself would keep them back. Once again, she gave thanks for not being able to smell anymore.

Skinny joined the fight, lashing out with his whip, the barbed tip tearing out a goblin’s throat. Despite killing her allies at a rapid pace, the party was getting slowly poked to death by goblin spears. Chuck shouted more and Florence could see a faint glow come over the goblin boss’ body, somehow infusing his forces with courage, something the cowardly goblins desperately needed.

Shirtless turned the fight in their favor, tossing down another totem, leaving him with two remaining. This totem was another of them vine growth thingy’s he had used on Korbo’s party. A dozen goblins were caught up, unable to move and squalling like stuck pigs even though the magic didn’t seem to do no harm to them. Losing a dozen goblins from the fight gave the invaders the advantage. They were still outnumbered by a large margin, but even Florence could tell the goblins were wavering.

“Fight on, killses the invaders!” Chuck shouted a fresh wave of courage washing over his people.

“Dog, kill that one,” the skinny man ordered, pointing out Boss Chuck. The hound howled, dropping its most recent goblin victim as it charged toward the goblin leader. Chuck saw what was coming, pushing the pair of goblins he kept as bodyguards between him and the rampaging mutt.

The two goblins he used as bodyguards were the largest of the tribe, but the largest of the lot weren’t all that big compared to the dog charging at him. His two bodyguards put up a good fight, one driving his spear pretty deep into the dog and the other almost decided to join the battle before running away screaming in terror. Things looked bad for Boss Chuck, when Florence and everyone in the room was distracted by a horrible sound.

The screeching was accompanied by an explosion of sand as Spud emerged from the goblin sandbox that the hound had unwittingly just passed by. Now old Spud was probably one of her biggest cats, and one she hadn’t seen get into a scrap yet. Despite his size in relation to the other cats, he was dwarfed by the monster hound. The matchup didn’t look fair, until Florence saw what was on the back of her big kitty. Sitting there pretty as you please was old Gabsug the goblin, holding onto Spuds collar with one hand while in the other hand he held a spear, the weapon leveled at the charging hound.

“Oh my, they have formed a bond, this should be an interesting development in the development of your defenders,” Doug said, but Florence didn’t pay him any attention, her focus was on Spud. The goblin, despite the shrieks of terror he was adding to the cacophony of sounds in the room, drove his attack home. With a yelp of pain as the goblin spear pushed deep into his chest, the hound closed his jaws around Spud’s head, ignoring the slashing claws of the cat that were opening deep furrows in his face.

With a sickening crunch, the hound bit down, killing her delinquent baby. The momentum caused Gabsug to skid across the floor and into the far wall. Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, Gabsug made use of one of the hidey holes that Florence had installed in various parts of the goblin home. Boss Chuck seemed to have the same idea, running for safety as the goblin line finally started to collapse, having lost over half their number.

The invaders didn’t let up, chasing down every goblin they could catch as they tried to escape. By the time the last goblin was dead or hidden safely away, Florence estimated that only a dozen or so of the tribe survived the fight. Horrible losses to her allies, but they had done what she had wanted them to do, delay and bloody the attackers.

“Not the bravest of sorts, but Boss Chuck did seem to keep them at it longer than I thought he would,” Doug said.

“Yep, and old Spud and Gabsug did us proud as well. Never thought I’d see a goblin riding a cat, but we surely just did,” Florence replied.

“Indeed, perhaps in the future, we may have a whole unit of goblin cavalry at our command, they would make deadly and interesting foes for our adventurers,” Doug added. Florence’s attention was distracted by arguing among the invaders.

“Tabak, heal the dog now!” Skinny guy ordered.

“Dog has taken too much damage, we must use my mana to heal ourselves,” Tabak replied.

“Do it, now!” The skinny guy ordered, cracking his whip at the shirtless Tabak. It looked like there was going to be a fight, but Tabak relented, channeling healing energy into the dog.

“Hey Doug, with it being so important to Skinny there, why didn’t they give the dog a name instead of just calling it dog?” Florence asked.

“Hmm, based on the markings painted on themselves and the lack of a name for what an animal that has obvious importance to their leader, I would say these are followers of Kunrax,” Doug said.

“Huh?” Florence replied.

“This world follows many powerful beings; some are even worshiped as deities. Kunrax is the known as the Hound in the Night, and it is said he gathers the wicked at the time of their death, dragging them off to their eternal torment,” Doug said.

“That’s creepy, sounds even worse than being turned into a gem without my consent,” Florence said, feeling she was getting the hang of this sarcasm stuff that Doug was so fond of.

“The followers of Kunrax are typically depraved and evil people who hope that by serving the god in this life, they will avoid the fate that surely awaits them in the next. As far as why they don’t name the dogs, well, they feel the beasts that they keep are a small bit of Kunrax incarnate and their names are not to be uttered by the wicked,” Doug explained.

They watched shirtless expend all his mana to try and heal the hound. Not all its wounds had been healed from the last fight and it had taken a half dozen deep spear wounds before it’s encounter with Spud and Gabsug. The goblin’s spear was stuck deep into the hound’s chest and shirtless had a hard time getting the wound closed after the weapon had been pulled free. By the time his mana was depleted, the hound’s bleeding had stopped, and though the wound still looked gruesome, Florence figured the more dangerous injuries inside the dog’s body had been healed enough to allow it stand. They waited for a time, allowing shirtless to recharge what mana he could, it must not have been much as he channeled healing for only a few more seconds before collapsing with exhaustion.

“That is all I can give, save for the totem,” Tabak said.

“Use it, it will help us all,” skinny said. Another word of power was spoken, and Florence once again felt nauseous at its sound. This totem pulsed a wave of green energy every few seconds.

“Ahh, a healing totem, it won’t heal much, but it does affect an area around it, allowing everyone in range to benefit. I must say, I have no idea what the last totem is, it’s not a type I’ve seen before,” Doug told her. After about thirty seconds the totem crumbled to dust, its magic spent. The invaders got wearily to their feet, all of them were still sporting wounds of one type or another, which was just perfect as far as Florence was concerned. The big question was, would her remaining defenders be enough to stop them?