Chapter 6 (Bard)

My breathing was too ragged to sing, so I focused on the riff. The scrambling, climbing, and falling had ripped skin from my fingertips, and blood painted the strings, but I didn’t stop playing. The intelligent species of Arena Disk supposedly liked halflings and especially hill folk. Why couldn’t the same carry over to the strange world’s beasts? Music was supposed to bring all beings together, and the trial said I needed to survive, dominate, conquer. What if I fulfilled the objectives by calming the goats and befriending them instead?

The furry beasts appeared around the corner as I continued to play. One of the kids bleated softly, and the adults followed, slowing their trot. My heart continued to pound in my chest as my stinging fingers either danced along the fretboard or plucked strings. It was working. The monsters approached at a relaxed trot. Even though my body protested, I transitioned into another song as the creatures got closer.

Compared to my new proportions, they were indeed bear-sized. I guessed most of their girth came from the voluminous fur. Wild mountain goats were known for scaling cliff faces and surviving under the roughest of conditions. The beasts in front of me lived up to their reputation, looking tough and durable. I saw rippling muscle under a patch of matted fur, and their legs were thick and muscled. But, unlike ordinary goats, the creatures’ were comically large like my feet. In fact, the bones along their shoulder and spine had to be extra tough to support a skull hard enough to repeatedly ram stone and not suffer damage.

By the time I finished the second song, the largest goat and I were face to face. Despite my lack of experience with hooved animals, I could tell that the eyes had softened. Perhaps it was ingrained hill folk instinct. They had a reputation of nurturing livestock, after all. When the beast didn’t ram me, it became clear that the creature no longer meant me harm.

“I’d get mad if someone dropped in on my family unannounced too,” I said, stopping my playing. Much to my relief, the beast didn’t resume its attack. I hesitantly reached out to the beast, hoping to pat its head, but the goat retreated, snorting loudly. “Okay. Too soon.”

Trial of Brawn complete.
Survival test passed.
Domination test results inconclusive.
Conquering test failed.
You receive 3 out of 10 attribute points for the trial.

Attribute points assigned to Vitality.
You staved off imminent death using music!

Musician Mastery unlocked.
Mastery boosted due to prior knowledge and practice!
Musician Mastery has progressed to Apprentice Rank 2!
Display more of your prior knowledge for additional growth.
Dexterity +2
Charisma +1

Despite my poor performance in the trial, a euphoric wave washed over me. Perhaps it was the influx of attribute points, maybe it was ‘staving off imminent death’, but I felt amazing. Following my mental prompt, the status screen replaced the notifications, and the stat names shortened too.

Brawn: 2
—STR 1| VIT 3
Control: 1
—DEX 1| ARC 1
Wit: 2
—INT 1| CHA 2

I didn’t feel more charismatic than before—I didn’t know how to measure such a value—but my body hurt a lot less. It was likely the effects of Vitality reduced the physical discomfort and encouraged natural recovery. My joints still ached, muscles felt heavy with lactic acid build-up, and then there were the dozens of minor cuts staining my new white shirt red.

The crystal sitting at the guitar’s neck glowed with silver light, and the new scratches matched its luminosity. One by one, they all disappeared, leaving an almost intact instrument. It resembled my Fender acoustic guitar, Sasha, just aged and sized down for my new proportions. The guitar’s sunburst paint job was a lot more faded, and the branch manager had wiped away the logo at the headstock too. Nevertheless, it was still beautiful, and I loved it. The fact that the guitar and I were bonded forever was a positive glimmer in a possibly grim existence.

“You’re going to be Sasha the Second,” I said. “Once we’re somewhere safe and I have money in my pocket, you’re going to get treated to a nice polish.”

No one was around to judge me, so I didn’t feel awkward talking to Sasha the Second. When we started dating, Samantha claimed to find the habit endearing. More recently, she had called it weird, echoing my sister’s opinion on the matter. My chest, the only bit that didn’t hurt, now that ached too as realisation hit. I’d never see my sister again. Most of my teenage angst went into hating her and wishing to get away, but she was gone forever now. I wouldn’t get to see her get married or meet all the children she wanted.

“Fuck you, Tracy—”

Skittering stones to my left made me jump. I retreated to a nearby wall and scanned the roofs for their source. It was one of the kids—the smallest of them. The little goat masterfully hopped between footholds descending to ground level. Earth’s mountain goats were known for their surefootedness, but the furry giants put them to shame. The kid landed in front of me, standing just at eye level. It bleated, trotting closer.

“What do you want, little guy?” I asked. “I’m afraid my fingers aren’t up for another song right now.” The goat tapped its forehead against mine. “What’s this? You want me to pet you?”

When I tried to pat the beast’s head, it retreated. Then much to my horror, the kid rose onto its hind legs. It bleated before hopping forward and striking my skull with its own. The blow robbed me of consciousness instantly.

------

My first thought when waking up without pain was, I had died again. This time, the Interdimensional Goating Company had revived me for another egotistical deity’s entertainment. My big mouth would likely mark me with another brand that undid the benefits of Coward’s Brand.

Fortunately, I survived the assault. The two risking moons in the orange and pink sky suggested that I still on Arena Disk. Approaching clouds threatened to block out the sun before it could disappear over the distant edge. A cold breeze stung my cheeks, but the rest of me felt warm and snug. Then the surface below me rocked and jerked violently, making my head bounce off it. A soft yelp escaped my lips as everything stung.

“He’s awake!” A rough voice exclaimed.

I sat upright to find myself in a roofless cart. A skinny goblin sat at my peeling a large citrus-smelling fruit. He reminded me of the shaman, sitting shirtless, covered in tattoos. Bone ornaments decorated hung from his neck and adorned his bright red braids.

“How do you feel?” He asked.

“Surprisingly well,” I answered, checking my forearms and peeking under my shirt. The scratches were all gone, and no bruises marked my pale skin. Then I noticed the green wisps floating around the staff next to the goblin. The goats from earlier followed the vehicle with similar lights dancing around their heads. “Did you fix me up?”

The goblin nodded. “It ate up a chunk of my mana, but I’m assuming you’re the one who calmed the goats for us, so it’s the least I could do.”

I counted seven other goblins. One nodded to me from the cart’s driver seat while the others sat atop the back of ugly grey canines. They resembled hyenas but had more pointed snouts. Rough manes ran along their spines while the rest of the fur appeared short and bristly. One led the cart, two flanked us, and the rest followed.

“How’d you do it?” The goblin riding to the cart’s left asked. “Are ye a mage or a beastmaster?”

The question felt loaded. Whatever I said now would define how the goblins saw me. There was no telling how long I’d be among them, and I didn’t have a clue of how they functioned either. Since I wasn’t in chains, I assumed the goblins weren’t as horrid as earth’s fantasy claimed.

“Neither. I’m a bard-in-training.”

“We heard your music but a bard without a weapon, mount or companions?” His brows furrowed. “That doesn’t sound right.”

“They died,” I told him. First, I considered saying we’d been separated, but that would mean they were looking for me and nearby. The fewer questions I had to answer, the better. “Bandits chased us through the plains. A ranger’s arrow took my master, and the rest fell trying to deter our attackers.”

“And you run and hid?” The goblin smirked. “You’re a coward, but cowards survive longer than the brave. We’ll take you to Grog’s Table. It’s safe there.”

“Am I guest or a prisoner?” I asked.

“That’s for the chieftain to decide,” he answered. “He’ll want more details, and it’s not my place to pass judgement. We’re just a hunting party out to retrieve meat for the Wyrm’s Feast. For now, you’re a guest of the Skarr the warg rider and don’t have his permission to leave.”

The cart ambled uphill as the clouds cast their shadows on us, bringing darkness about prematurely. Whooping sounded from the brush on either side of us soon after, making the goblins stiffen. Growls and whines rose from the ugly canines’ throats. My fellow passenger raised his staff, and his brows furrowed.

“Damned kobolds.” He growled. The goblin magician’s foot struck the wooden chest sitting between us. It popped open, revealing a slingshot, dozens of pellets and a large wooden sceptre topped with a fist-sized crystal. Tiny shapes—runes—covered it. The crystal resembled the stone sitting in Sasha’s neck but lacked clarity. “Arm yourself, halfling,” the goblin said. “The spirits claim there’s at least a dozen of them. Help us protect the goats, and I’ll put in a good word with the chief.”

Trial of Control
Kobolds pursue you and your new friends.
They hate goblins and anyone colluding with them. They’ve never seen hill folk before, but your flesh is rumoured to be a delicacy.
Use the offered tools to vanquish them.
Pass the trial to enjoy an influx of Dexterity and Arcana.