Battle Admin System 1 (New Series, enjoy!)

1 - Lillea Moonstrider

Egbert shivered outside the western gate to Cold Tooth, his eyes scanning the land. Massive mountain ranges scraped at the sky toward the north. Mists curled around hills and forests like grasping fingers of a ghost. He held close his standard-issued pike in fear of the monsters prowling out there.

They had horrid monsters around Cold Tooth. Monsters the size of hills or bigger. Monsters with too many teeth, too many eyes, too many of everything. Or worse, the lack of things a living being should have. All because of wicked magic.

He checked the condition of his partner, who was twice as wide as Egbert, about shoulder high, and unaffected by the bitter cold. Egbert never met a dwarf until he reached Cold Tooth last week, but Yundon had done right by him so far.

The dwarf hadn’t hazed Egbert for being the new guy. Or the new human. Unless the guard secret was part of the hazing.

“What is it?” Egbert barked. “What’s got people looking at me with side eyes and smiles?”

Yundon chuckled deeply. “You’ll see soon. Been a few weeks, which is longer than usual.”

“Long for what?  Nobody’s fessing. Not the captain. Not the lizards. Not even the sophisticated goblins.”

Egbert caught a goblin guard peeking down from the ramparts. A teasing smile lit up the green bugger’s face before he’d darted out of view.

Egbert grunted. “Bastards. I thought goblins gossipped.” And got into mischief or murder. They still stuck to their mischief up here in Cold Tooth, but they acted more civilized than what Egbert had experienced. “Well. Whatever. Been meaning to ask you about the rumors. The ones about the giant woman from around these parts. A real savage beauty. A feast for the eyes.”

“Really?” Yundon’s expression was like a stone wall. “Where did you gather those?”

Egbert shot him a grin, prepared to oversell the tale he’d heard from passing adventurers. If you were to show Egbert a room full of honest adventurers, he’d fail to believe it. He only listened and retold for fun.

Everyone knew giants were meant to be slain unless they were too powerful to be bothered. But this tale felt special. Egbert had never heard about a beautiful giant until he came to Cold Tooth.

He yakked about the topic, seeing the humor glow on Yundon’s face. Even the darn goblins were making gleeful chitters above. Nobody could deny Egbert was decent at telling tall tales.

The captain walked out the gate without warning and stopped fifteen feet ahead. Egbert fell silent and watched the captain nervously.

The taciturn man wore a short cape on the back of his armor. The dark blue fabric displayed a white fang thrusting out of snow.

As Egbert reexamined the city’s sigil, he noticed eerie silence around him. It originated from the captain and spread over Egbert, Yundon, and the goblins on the ramparts. Then Egbert noticed the dead silence behind the wall. As if the entire city had tucked into their snowy graves early.

He started to open his mouth when the captain motioned for silence. Even though the captain was facing away, staring at the mist and not Egbert.

It was then he noticed an unsettling noise. It was deep. And consistent. At first, he thought it was a drum beat. But he could feel the slow drumming through his boots. It was more like thumps. As if the hills were getting up for a stroll.

Worse yet, the thumping grew louder. Closer. The ground shook harder. Egbert’s eyes swiveled from the captain, to Yundon, to his pike. He worked his jaw but no words came out.

Fear seized his heart, and for good reason, he was only a Level 145 behind his Sturdy Body skill. Yun had mid 200s experience with his profile. The captain was probably in the mid 300s with his levels. Maybe more. Maybe Egbert’s seniors could survive what was coming, but he surely wouldn’t!

His thoughts raced. It really is like the tales. Cold Tooth and the north of the empire is a death sentence! They’re going to sacrifice a debtor like me to whatever this damn world Kolossi has to offer!

Egbert nearly collapsed into a full-blown panic. But he held his bearing when a sonorous, bewitching, and unintelligible song resonated from out the mist. The song was as enchanting as it was disturbing, but it held his rapt attention despite the language being foreign.

The tension eased from Yundon’s face. The captain shifted his sword hand away from the handle. Little legs kicked on the ramparts like children, the goblins laughing and crooning. Then Egbert looked back into the mist, his eyes widening and his mouth falling open when a towering shape appeared.

“Behind every hidden treasure is a rumor too flaky to sound solid. Until a dwarf hammers it.” Yundon laughed heartily. “Though, I’ll say the Unofficial Cold Tooth Lady is both a treasure and hammer.”

Out from the mist lumbered a full-figured giant woman. She had dark purple skin and long snow-white hair braided into a single tail. Her ears were as sharp as an elf, and she moved with the confidence of a noble. Her body was clad in well-fitted leathers, a brown cloak reaching down to her calves, and a blood-stained club hanging from her hip.

The closer she drew, the more everyone had to crane their necks back. She loomed over the guards on the ground and the guards on the ramparts.

Egbert couldn’t fathom what her height could be. He saw that she was beautiful. With full lips. Radiant silver-white eyes. And a smile that nearly swept him off his feet as easily as her ground shaking steps. But his mind failed to comprehend her size.

“Forty-six,” Yundon muttered.

Egbert glanced at him from the corner of his eye.

“I think she’s forty-six feet tall. Give or take.” Yundon rubbed his bearded chin. “Once you see enough big ones, you get good at eyeing their height. The boar’s bigger, however.”

The monster boar she carried on her right shoulder had to be sixty feet from belly to spine and over one hundred feet from snout to rear. It had human bones stuck between its jagged teeth and tusks, and big dark red eyes to go with its hideous appearance. Thankfully, it was dead and well-handled by the giant.

Although there was something lacking on her left side. Egbert couldn’t tell what. Her cloak covered what piqued his notice. It was of no matter, really. She only needed one shrug. Then the boar corpse would fall and subdue him if she intended for it.

Egbert flinched from the last quaking steps that rumbled through the ground and his body. The giant woman’s every detail mesmerized him as the world waited on her to speak.

“Hey ho, guardsmen and dwellers of Cold Tooth,” she greeted with a resounding and smooth voice. “Lillea Moonstrider has returned.”

***

Lillea conversed with the guards until the newest pale-skinned human grew more comfortable with her. She reassured the guard captain her stay would abide by Cold Tooth’s laws, like always, and tossed the Level 300 Man-Eating Boar over the thirty foot wall. The square was already cleared for the drop, making room for her prize and herself when she deftly hopped over the ramparts.

The goblins cheered.

Inside the walls, Lillea swung the boar up with one hand and returned to balancing it on her shoulder. The walk to the slaughter circle was a pleasant one, filled with greetings from townspeople or stares from newcomers.

Cold Tooth rolled up and down on hilly grounds. It was covered in brown and black buildings topped with snow and smoke from burning hearths.

She stood over everything with her prize. Everyone knew to make a lane for her as she took the main thoroughfare, her footfalls shaking the nearest buildings.

The hammering of blacksmiths rang around her followed by the serpent hiss of hot metal being quenched. Hawking vendors raised their voices to overcome the volume of her footfalls. Guards and adventurers clashed with steel and magic at multiple training yards and the coliseum, thickening the air with elemental flashes and the taste of mana. One sniff filled her with the scent of meat on the fire, pots of zesty stew set to boil, and newly-opened casks filled with fresh mead or foreign drink.

The bustle of Cold Tooth and its mixture of commoners, adventurers, and nobles along with joint-race factions was always pleasing to see after Lillea returned from the wilds. She liked when lizard folks poked their heads out from the warmth of their homes to watch her in awe. Or when goblins dashed across rooftops to keep up with her long strides. Or when dwarves shouted for her aid with their next mining venture. Her pickaxe was in storage nearby, if she felt inclined.

She hadn’t gone to many major settlements, but Cold Tooth was a rare treat from what she’d learned. Only the harsh nature of her homeland, fraught with dangers, could bury the divide among races and factions here. On the surface, at least.

Lillea dropped the boar at the slaughter circle, a ring surrounded by ankle-high stone walls adjacent to the main square. She reconfirmed with the butchers, tanners, and crafters her payment and gave instructions for boar meat to be delivered to Grimmer’s Throne.

She moved a short distance south, stepping lightly through alleyways as children ran underfoot. She ignored the hooded stalker following her and hunched down into a lot outside a workshop. It was decorated with metal palm trees that radiated warmth. Dropping her club and backpack gave away her arrival if her footfalls hadn’t been evident enough.

“Huh. What?” voiced a young male. A dark skinned human of twenty years hobbled out with one fleshy leg and one metal leg. He flipped his goggles over his head and removed his heavy gloves from his hands, his face brightening. “Lady Moonstrider, welcome home.”

She tilted her head to the side, smiling. “Hey ho, Ogun. I’m pleased to be welcomed by my favorite metal human.”

“You’re too sweet to me. The old man could use half your attitude.”

“Don’t need it!” grouched Ogun’s father, Olomere. He was deeper in the workshop. “And it’s good you’re back, Lillea. I swear on my ancestors, the boy was longing–”

Ogun harrumphed before hobbling around to Lillea’s left side. Without a word, the giant swept her cloak back and revealed what was missing.

Her left arm.

Ogun paced side-to-side, eyed the scarred numb that was her shoulder, and nodded to himself. He muttered some words regarding the fit and procedure under his breath.

“Is it ready?” Lillea tried not to sound too eager to avoid getting her hopes up.

“Are you prepared to stay conscious and assist?” Ogun asked. “We managed to find a qualified healer, but the old man insists the price might be too high. The north’s cold makes healing harder, apparently.”

“That’s a load of scrap shavings!” shouted Olomere.

Chuckling, Lillea pulled a knife from her boot, letting the blade glint under pale light and Ogun’s inspection. Then she pointed the knife at the suspicious person hiding behind a shack.

“Come out,” she ordered.

The person fled, slinking into the alleys and shadows quickly. Goblins dashed over the rooftops in hot pursuit.

Lillea let them go without losing her good mood. “It would be best if we operate soon, Ogun. The timing is right. But to delay would bring needless frustration.”

The artificer led her into his workshop. It had enough room for her to crawl and lay on her back while everything was pushed up against the walls. Metal workings, magical gadgets, and fine instruments surrounded her sides or hung from the rafters.

Her new arm hung down on chains to her left. It was gunmetal gray and similar in dimensions to her other arm. The ball-joints had a dark coloration. Her new hand had fine articulate fingers. The knuckles had triangular points. The shoulder joint was akin to a slim pauldron with openings for enchanted rivets to be driven into her flesh. Sharpened wires extended from the joint with enough for her mana channels.

“I recommend you get the Prosthetic Adjustment skill as soon as you can. After Level 100, you’ll get the Magic Prosthetic Mastery in your skill pool,” Ogun said.

The son and father prepared for the procedure. A woman in a dark red robe with a scepter entered through a side door. She gave Lillea a professional nod and nothing more. The giant smiled. It was always nice to have a healer.

“I hope you have room for the skill or you’re in for a world of struggle,” Olomere grumbled. The potbelly man used chains and magic to reposition the arm socket. “Seriously, please tell me you do, Lillea.”

“I do, Olomere. I reached Level 250 days ago.” She was getting closer to her goal. “Shall we?”

With her knife raised and all needed parties present, they started making history. Lillea became the first giant anyone knew to accept a magic prosthetic. The pain was barely comparable to the anguish of losing her family and her arm five years ago.

***

The next day, Lillea sat outside the artificer workshop, moving her new arm around. Forward. Back. Side-to-side. It was a strange experience.

It was not the same compared to flesh. It lacked in the touch department. Her mana was required to feed some sensation to her head. It would never be more than a gunmetal shell with mystical runes guiding the mana like artificial channels.

“Is it not to your liking?” Ogun’s voice sounded strained.

Lillea tilted her head. Then she smiled brightly. “It’s strange. I will need time to understand it.”

She reached out. Ogun leaned into her grasp, trusting her.

Carefully, she picked him up and readjusted her grip for being too loose. When she held him too hard, he patted her thumb to let her know. She readjusted again and again until she was satisfied.

No skill came up yet, but it would show with more practice.

Back on his feet, Ogun let out a wheeze.

Lillea watched him keenly. “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it. You’re coins and ores paid for it all and more.”

“But Ogun.” She rested a fleshy finger on his shoulder. “I am serious. Thank you. From the depths of my heart. And you, too, Olomere.” She giggled as the older artificer grumbled back. “I’m filled with great thrill. I must find an assignment with monsters.”

Lillea hopped to her feet. Olomere shouted as tools and parts fell from the shelves.

Ogun froze as she proudly towered over everything. Her shadow engulfed him and most of the workshop.

“When I return, there will be an offer for you and Olomere to join me at Grimmer’s. We can tell tales, drink, feast, and be merry with my earnings.” She bent down and touched him with a metal finger this time. “Again, thank you.”

Ogun nodded wordlessly.

Lillea turned to leave before stopping. She curled and uncurled all her fingers, feeling a happy rush and deep appreciation for the far-from-home artificers.

A thought came to mind. Would the shadowy stalker target them?

“Before I go, I want these next words to be heard far and wide.” She turned back slowly as Olomere stopped next to his son. “ If anyone deeply troubles you, Ogun, Olomere… I will rip out their spines and eat to the merrow.”

The humans froze like prey animals.

There was a time where this act would be excessive. But then she lost her family and an arm. She had to survive three years alone or with bad company until Cold Tooth took her in. They helped her feel grounded and wanted while she proved her worth.

But the beast inside remained, hidden behind her smiles. Sometimes angry. Sometimes hungry. But very cunning and determined. The next time someone tried to take from her so callously, they would regret it.