Chapter 11: No end to learning
"Build a snow house, first of all, we must make strong and thick snow bricks, then they will be laid out on the ground in a circle, layer by layer up the base at the same time, the circle should slowly shrink, and finally seal the top, forming an inverted hemisphere shape on the ground." Painehurst waved a reindeer's wide, flat rib cage and demonstrated the process of building a snow house in a simple and clear manner, surrounded by a bunch of people and horses. With every word he spoke, the rouge-colored, gorgeous chief, would translate his words, into the Wooden language, and narrate them to his fellow onlookers. Like a translator.
"Can you say it faster!" Christina nervously estimated the time. "My sister can only use five first-ring spells a day. After using up two [Heal Light Wounds] to heal the wounded, and giving you, me, and her three sets of [Tongue], there are no more spell slots available today! And she can only maintain this spell for two hours now! Half the time has passed now!"
"You didn't tell me earlier! I thought the magic was permanently effective!" Pinehurst anxiously speed up the speed of speech. "Ah, when building the snow house door with the air outlet, to open the hole on the south side, this can understand, right, leeward, leeward."
"It's common knowledge that magic has a time limit, okay! You're a wild horse with a really shallow understanding of the world!" Christina while compassionately stroking the pale centaur's silky pale hair. While enthusiastically translating the queries raised by her compatriots on the stage. "Master Val asked you, he studied the snow house you built before, the curved roof is indeed storm-proof and snow-proof. But it's still very, very cold inside. Is there a solution to this?"
"There is. But I suffer from no tools and materials in hand, so I can only build a half-finished product. A real snow house, should use a shovel to the ground, digging a meter or two deep as the creature's real residence. Dig deep, shallow roof, the temperature under the ground than the ground is much warmer! Theoretically, a snow house on the ground is nothing more than the roof of a big warm pit." Peinhers do not know whether to make things difficult for the bard, or nervous to hurry, lips like a series of detailed construction program spit out. "In order to keep warm and cold, the outer arc of the snow house should be covered with a thick layer of hay, in covered with animal skins. The inner arc of the house should also be hung with animal skins, so that the temperature problem can be solved."
After listening to Christina's word-for-word translation, the aged man-horse with white hair revealed a dawning realization and looked at Peinhers with a little more respect.
"Well, that's all there is to know about snow house construction, and any remaining problems, let's solve them slowly in practice." Pinehurst skillfully laid the snow bricks. Dozens of clan's best craftsmen, also imitating in a pattern, learning. They are extremely clear division of labor, some of them stacked snow bricks, some digging round huge pits, some of them used the stacked snow bricks to build a house, and moved a lot of weeds, animal leather paste on top of the dome. And the pale centaur, with the help of Christian and translation, constantly correcting the tripartite artisans, the small mistakes made in practice. Less than ten minutes, a beautiful huge snow house, then appeared in front of everyone's eyes!
"Well, your mission is complete. Next, the artisans will take the lessons learned and patiently teach them to all the clansmen - which would have been your job! The wild child who can't talk." Christina grunted with dissatisfaction. The whole horse bent down on its knees and slowly burrowed into the warm snow house, letting out a contented sigh. "By the way, you said you knew the whereabouts of the other Centaur clan?"
"Yeah. According to my years of exploration, we are a choppy dark ocean to the south." Pinehurst also got inside the snow house and lay down comfortably on the ground. That damn weather outside is really hard to bear, or warm indoors. With his finger, the pale centaur drew an oval on the loose dirt, followed by a slightly smaller diamond pattern within the oval, with the corners of the northern part of the diamond, and the curved lines of the oval joined together. "And there is a huge warm peninsula on the sea, where there is plenty of rain and four seasons. To the east and south are tall mountain hills, while to the west and north are fertile grassland pastures. But that place is bounded on three sides by the sea, and only the north is connected to the cold grasslands."
"What! There is such a good piece of land in the south! Plenty of rain and four seasons?" A spark of excitement suddenly burned within Christina's blood-colored pupils. "Really?"
"Really. But a place that nice has long been occupied by barbarians." Peinhus sighed. "They built an immensely strong wooden fortress above the only land narrow into the peninsula. That clan tried to enter the interior of the peninsula ------ but was stopped in its tracks by the fortress, and hundreds and thousands of their fellow soldiers all died tragically under the barbarians' rain of arrows and sharp blades. I got just a little bit closer and was frantically chased by their light cavalry, but fortunately I was saved by you and was spared."
"So." Hearing the tragic ending of another tribe being completely wiped out, the incomparably cheerful blaze inside Christina's pupils slowly died out. This journey, she has heard too much about the tragic end of her fellow countrymen. "Well, after all, there is the human chassis. To put it in perspective, if there are orcs or trolls, trying to intrude into this chief's territory? I will also take out those abominable monsters without mercy! Since these humans are more xenophobic, fortifications are also more difficult to chew, then we do not bother is it! Anyway, this cold grassland, compared to home is also quite warm, plus you provide the snow house technology, we should be able to survive this severe winter ------ right, I lead you to a good place."
"What place?" Pinehurst strangely burrowed out of the snow hut and followed the brisk pace of the rouge blazing horse to a large tent beyond which Christina's soft arm, gently lifted the curtain door of the camp. Only to see countless young foals, curled up inside the furry animal skin, following an old brown horse, learning the language and universal language of the wood tribe. The teacher said each word, the children under the stage, will learn his words, a simple childish, like silver bells like a crisp and beautiful sound.
"Ahem, little ones! You have a new classmate!" Christina took Pinehurst's big, cold hand and led him inside the school.
"A new partner again? Where where?" A small, powdered mare, poking her frozen, red, childish face out of her furry animal skin, looked around curiously.
"It's right in front of you," Christina said affectionately, rubbing the pony's blown-out, soft face. Turning back, she gestured for Peinhus to come closer. "This big brother's clan was destroyed when he was the same age as you. He is the only survivor of that clan, so he has not yet systematically learned the wooden clan language and universal language, from today onwards, he is your classmate."
"Wow! White fur, so pretty!" A group of ponies, blinking their big beautiful eyes, wrapped tightly around the animal skin blanket on their bodies, cheerfully came together around the pale man-horse and swarmed him in the middle. Gleefully, he called out to. "New students! New students! New students!"
"Cough." The elderly brown horse on the stage coughed gently twice, and an invisible and terrifying pressure instantly swept through the entire tent. The scared ponies honestly ran back to their seats, obediently bent their four hooves and sat down again on top of the sheepskin blanket, ready to continue their lessons.
The elderly elder with brown fur, facing the chief again, bowed respectfully. "The old man understands. Since he has missed the best age to learn the language, there is no choice, in order for this child to adapt to the whole world, I will just teach him the simplest, most common universal language first. The elegant and gentle Wood Race language can be taught slowly later."
"No problem, as you say. Peinhus, you just go ahead and learn the common language with these little ones! I'm going to take care of its business, and I'll pick you up after class." Christina, who was the chief, maintained great respect for the old man in front of her, and she slowly burrowed out of the tent with a great lazy stretch of tiredness. It's hard to imagine that the whole clan's big and small matters are all piling up on top of her incomparably tender shoulders.
Chapter 12: An eventful year
After several hours, Pinehurst walked out of the tent with a dizzy head. Learning a foreign language is really hard. Especially when the teacher says something you can't understand! Embarrassing as hell! Fortunately, in the teacher's superb drawing skills, as well as the assistance of body language, finally mastered the pronunciation of all the basic letters of the common language, and some of the most simple words. The little pony next to me, not infrequently in his own face confused when, let out innocent laughter.
Hell, even though we know these kids don't mean any harm and are simply having fun, that's still upsetting!
"These centaurs are working and learning so fast!" Pinehurst looked around in astonishment. It had only been a few hours' work, and countless primitive animal skin tents had disappeared, replaced by hundreds of incomparably strong snow huts. A few passing horses and men also gave him a respectful smile.
"Class is over? How was the learning?" After dealing with the mess, Christina also cheerfully ran to Pinehurst's side and asked with incomparable concern in a euphonious wooden language.
"I, listen, don't understand." Peinhus rolled his eyes breathlessly and replied with the universal word his teacher had just taught him.
"Ah, I forgot about the duration of [Tongue], it should have arrived long ago." The rouge blazing horse smiled sweetly, took Pinehurst's big, pale, cold hand, and led him back to one of the most huge, conspicuous snow huts: that was the chief's residence.
The snow house is so huge that the three horses and men in it do not feel crowded at all. Of course, it is also possible that the black-skinned bard is too petite. More than two meters deep into the ground, the dirt floor, covered with a thick layer of sheepskin, four walls are hung with a variety of monster heads, showing the chief's Herculean efforts.
Those ugly heads, most of them are the same nomadic society of green-skinned orcs, their faces incomparably hideous and horrible, strong and powerful jaws above, with four huge fangs of two long and two short, the dagger-sized canine teeth, breaking through the restraints of the lips, madly protruding upwards. This to be bitten, I'm afraid it's not as simple as bleeding a little.
Pinehurst watched the chief's war gifts with interest. In addition to the orcs, there were also some ugly heads with bear noses and huge and sharp ears. It looks like the bear gnomes in the game.
Well, this is indeed a magically modified version of the world of fantasy history.
In order to celebrate the joining of Pinehurst, Christina slaughtered a ram, supplemented by a large amount of cheese, and sweet milk wine served in the skull of some kind of monster. The three of them ate a beautiful meal, and then lay down directly on the carpet covered with wool, and quietly went to sleep.
Before going to bed, Christina deliberately to no extra animal skin bedding as the reason, in their own sister a breathless look, close to the Pinehurst that is like a satin-like soft quilt hair side, for the two, draped a huge bedding sewn with wool. The pale centaur shrugged his shoulders, he was just a little unhappy with the chief's attitude of forcing himself. Sleeping with a soft, sweet, pretty girl close by, how to look at it is their own advantage. So let her go.
Hell, it would be nice if the bottom half were human.
But no one noticed that two majestic black eagles, hidden between the dense branches of the jungle, were vigilantly observing the entire centaur camp.
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The next day at dawn
Perekopdi Narrow - Vesimiris Fortress
The brilliant sunrise at dawn, will be a large warm soft golden light, through the windows of the fortress, sowed in Asana sleep incomparably quiet and delicate face above. The barbarian girl rubbed her sleepy eyes and slowly woke up from her dream. She lifted a bed of sheepskin bedding, her own unclothed attractive body, exposed to the bright and beautiful morning sunlight.
"It's dawn already. Hasn't Ogus returned yet?" The naked Tungot general, while yawning greatly, combed her long orange hair that was as gorgeous as an evening sun, and with deft hands, she soon wove them into exquisite braids and wrapped them around the sides of her head. She slowly came to the closet and gently took out a long roll of linen cloth and wrapped it around her chest in circles and circles, squeezing and squeezing, squeezing and binding the two slightly bulging mounds.
Then, Asana used a linen sewn cloth, covering her slender and graceful body, and a full-body chain armor made of tens of thousands of iron rings interconnected, raised high above her head, the whole set on top of her beautiful body. The delicate shoulders, strong to carry the full body chain armor nearly 40 pounds of weight.
Then, the girl pulled out from the closet in, chest and abdomen and other vital places, inlaid with strong iron studded leather armor, skillfully put on the external lock armor. Finally, and to the head of the winding hair braid, put on an iron helmet, hands pick up a heavy hard-headed hammer and a huge wooden tower shield, the whole is armed.
"Squeak-"
The fully armed female warrior, gently pushed open the door of the room, along the spinning up the wooden spiral staircase, slowly walked to the top of the tower of the fortress, the whole body, are bathed in the warm and brilliant sunlight of dawn.
She slowly knelt down toward the rising sun, reverently stroked the double-ringed cross mark on her cheek that belonged to the God of Punishment, and silently began to meditate and prepare for the divine spells she could perform today.
In the middle of this world, professionals can observe their body's functions and properties through meditation, and some fighters and killers may not use this function. But the casters of divine and arcane arts have to repeat this step almost every day. This is not, a line of small words written in common language, densely floated in the mind of the barbarian girl.
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Name: Asana level: 9 (level 8 priest + 1 level fighter)
Protection field, power field.
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Strength: 14 (2)
Agility: 12 (1)
Body mass: 14 (2)
Intelligence: 8 (0)
Perception: 18(4)
Charisma: 14 (2)
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Life value: 67
Defensive rating: 24 (10 + 5 lockets + 3 studded leather armor + 1 iron helmet + 4 tower shield + 1 agility), Contact: 11, Caught off guard: 23.
First attack adjustment: +1
Basic attack plus value: +7/+1.
Heavy hardheaded hammer +10 attack (+7 basic attack +2 power adjustment +1 deity preference), damage 1d8+2, critical strike *2
Tackle:+9
Speed: 15 feet
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Toughness immunity +10
Reflection immunity +4
Will immunity +10
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Well, it's time to choose today's divine art. As a level 8 priest, Asana has long since touched the realm of the 4th ring. An out-of-this-world [Heal Fatal Wounds] has snapped many of her fellow priests alive from the mouth of the god of death. This even included the new king of the Eastern Goths.
Unfortunately, the day the old king was killed in action, she was in charge of holding down the rear and protecting the civilians. It is said that the enemy was an incredibly large goblin colony, tens of thousands of muddy and stupid goblins, wiggling their big ugly noses, flanked by thousands of armed to the teeth goblins, under the command of hundreds of majestic and horrifying bear goblins wielding nailhead hammers, like a wave of dirty and foul-smelling shocking, frantically storming the Pilekop land narrow. Trying to kill the new home of the barbarians.
In that battle, King Vichymiris led a whole army of 10,000 brave and fearless barbarian soldiers. He wore the ancestral sorcerous crown of the Eastern Goths and the steel scale armor forged by the Romans. Wielding a huge two-handed axe, singing impassioned and terrifying battle songs, he fought in the forefront of the battlefield! With each verse of his lyrics, he makes the soldiers around him more and more brave and fearless! He shouted wildly and fiercely! With every axe, the blood of those damned monsters splattered everywhere! Limbs flying everywhere!
The war lasted for a day and a night, and the Eastern Goths became more and more tired, and the old king's loud war song became more and more hoarse and dry. And the goblin army is like a black sea of endless, a glance can not see the end!
In desperation, the old king assembled his most powerful barbarians and warriors. Formed a sharp sharp knife, in the midst of a sea of thousands of ugly and dirty goblins, regardless of the cost to kill a bloody path. Rushing to the leader of the bear goblins, cut off its large ugly head, the group of leaderless monsters immediately scattered and fled. But the exhausted old king, but also by the angry earth goblins saber kill. Cut off his head as a trophy, along with the above sorcery crown, together with the escape into the snowy plains of the north.
Later, the Ostrogoths then built this wooden fortress that could secure the whole peninsula in the battlefield, under the name of their valiant king.
I don't know how long it took, but Asana, who had a little bit of selective disorder, finally ended her dawn meditation and slowly opened a pair of bright almond-yellow eyes - a brawny man dressed in black wolf skin with an eagle squatting on his shoulder, sat perched right in front of her eyes! It startled her!
"Orgas?" The barbarian girl regained her composure instantly. "When did you come back?"
"I arrived just as you started meditating. Interrupting a caster's meditation is a big no-no, so I had no choice but to wait here." The druid yawned widely, having not slept all night, leaving him mentally exhausted to the point of exhaustion. "I'm sorry I couldn't kill the pale centaur scout. Hundreds of cloaked centaur soldiers rescued him."
"You mean to tell me that ------ there is another Centaur clan that is close to here? How close are they to the fortress!" General Asana frowned as she listened to the bad news the druid brought back.
"Yes, General, here comes another one." Augus heartily stroked the hideous scars on the sharp claws of his beloved eagle. He sighed deeply "out of the Gredinian Peninsula, walking northwest about twenty-six kilometers, they are stationed in the interior of that woods, I have observed for a long time, they are about 1200 people. Please prepare early, General, the fortress of Visimiris, will suffer the onslaught of these monsters at any time."
"Only twenty-six kilometers?! It's too close ------ Alas, what a woe." Asana frowned and sighed sadly. "I will send a messenger and ask the king for reinforcements. Pass on my orders! The entire fortress is in a state of readiness! All cavalry scouts outside, all withdraw inside the fortress! Craftsmen hurry to repair the broken walls! Double the number of soldiers in the garrison, no! Three times!"
"As ordered!"
Chapter 13: Gifted and Talented
Terrifying white frost, once again swept Pinehurst's dream. This time, he dreamed he was standing under a towering snow-capped mountain, a horrific avalanche, like a silvery wave of shock. Along the curve of the mountain, sweeping heaven and earth to come! The surging pale wave, instantly swallowed himself, drowned, the heavy snow, pressed himself almost unable to breathe -
The pale man-horse, in an instant, was awakened by the nightmare. He was covered in cold sweat, gasping in shock, and soon Pinehurst discovered the source of his nightmare - the rouge horse, pressed diagonally against himself! The smooth, soft, blood-colored coat, pressed tightly against his own handsome and robust pale horse body. The soft and graceful waist, rotated ninety degrees to the right, the whole stick to their own body. Long, white jade arms, tenderly embracing their human body, their own left arm, but also trapped in the two full and tender snow peaks, can not move.
This soulful touch is indeed very memorable, but centaurs generally weigh 2000 pounds to start with ah hey! Although, Christina appears to be a soft girl, but, they flesh and blood density is not a class with human!
Pinehurst drew with difficulty four almost numbed pale hooves from beneath the chieftain's rouge-colored elegant horse. The other side of the house, the black-skinned bard has long woken up, her smooth, dark left hand, tenderly stroking a tame ewe. In her right hand, she used the skull of an orc as a vessel for water, drinking fresh goat's milk that had just been squeezed out, smiling at the pale centaur's predicament.
"By the way, you guys have the suspicion of trickery, but still defeated Luga who is a fifth level fighter. Pinehurst, what's your profession, and how many levels are you?" Christian drank the contents of the cup in one go, licked the white liquid sticking to his lips in satisfaction, and asked rather curiously after casually casting a [Communication Language]. "To introduce myself, I'm a level six bard."
Occupation, rank. Another thing that one did not understand. Too much talk is too much, so Pinehurst chose to show a confused expression and let the other side go brainstorm a reasonable explanation.
"No way, that clan didn't even teach you the most basic of career levels? Or did you, you little wildebeest, simply forget about it?" The petite black-skinned mare let out a helpless sigh. Above the dark and smooth skin, a pair of demonic blood-colored eyes flickered with sparks of foxing suspicion. "Fine! I'll teach you all over again. Close your eyes and start meditating in your mind! Then you will be able to see the true power that belongs to you."
"Meditation? What's that?" Peinhus asked curiously.
"Close your eyes and empty yourself. You try it a few times and just find the feeling." Christian rolled his eyes, placed the orc skull under the ewe, deft hands, skillfully jerked the ewe's rising milk-filled udder, and once again squeezed out a large bowl of hot, milky liquid. "Ah, the snow house is so warm, I do not want to go out, you want a bowl of it."
"No ------ is it really okay for you to drink it directly raw like this, there will be a lot of bacteria in it." Pinehurst rejected the other party's good intentions. "The stream water in the wild, ah, the milk of livestock, ah, must be boiled before drinking. This will kill most of the bacteria lurking in the water."
"Is that so? You wild child knows quite a lot in terms of inexplicable knowledge. But in the middle of the last hundred years of Centaur history, everyone drank it straight." Christian did not care to kiss the edge of the skull-made vessel, gently sip the goat's milk. "Hurry up and meditate, don't get sidetracked."
"------ do as you please." Pinehurst shook his head speechlessly. Silently closed his eyes, trying to empty himself, not a moment later, countless lines of tadpole-sized generic characters, densely floating in his mind.
---------- ------
Name: Pinehurst level: 7 (level 6 monster + 1 level warlock)
Centaur: additional +8 strength +4 agility +4 physique +2 perception - 2 intelligence (human souls do not reduce intelligence)
---------- ------
Strength: 22 (6)
Agility: 20 (5)
Body mass: 16 (3)
Intelligence: 12(1)
Perception: 10 (0)
Charisma: 16 (3) (Level 4+1)
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Life value: 48 (4D8+1D4+15)
Defensive rating: 17 (10 + 3 natural + 5 agility adjustment value - 1 large body type), contact 14, caught off guard 15
First attack adjustment: +5 (+5 agility adjustment value)
Basic attack plus value: +4.
Horseshoe +4 attack, damage 1D6+6.
Longsword +9 attack (+4 basic attack +6 strength adjustment -1 large body type), damage 2D6 +6, heavy strike 19-20/*2.
Composite longbow +8 attack (+4 basic attack +5 agility adjustment -1 large body type), damage 2D6 +6 heavy strike *3, range 600 feet.
Tackle +14 (+4 basic attack +4 large size +6 strength adjustment)
Speed: 65 feet
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Toughness immunity +4 (+3 body adjustment value +0 warlock + 1 centaur)
Reflex immunity +9 (+5 agility adjustment value +0 warlock +4 centaur)
Will immunity +6 (+0 perception adjustment value +2 warlocks +4 centaurs)
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[Good at simple weapons] [Good at military weapons] [Close range shooting] [Long range shooting] [Precision shooting] [Mobile shooting] [Charge] [Fly running]
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0 ring DC: 13. freezing ray, summoning spell, mage's hand, magic tricks (available 5 times per day)
1 ring DC: 14. Cold touch, grimace (can be used 4 times a day)
---------- ------
"What the hell!" Pinehurst widened his dark and dark pupils that looked like an abyss. When seeing his attributes at first glance, the pale centaur realized that it was based on the rules template of the DND game. When he found his strength 22, agility 20 when full of joy, this attribute strong to explode ah! But ------ but, why is his profession a warlock? And only 15 charisma?
Who the hell is this card? Such an explosive power to pick a warlock? What? Do not want to take a crossbow in the early stages of peace and quiet as a bastard player? So the strength and sensitivity points? Also, it clearly states that you know six magic spells, but you can tell me how to use it!
"See your attributes?" Christian contentedly rubbed the lower half of his horse, which had been somewhat fed last night. Sinful hands, once again reaching for the innocent-looking, docile ewe, jerked off to his third bowl of goat's milk this morning.
Well, after all, the size is there, the centaur in the primus, the energy consumed is also a not small number.
"Well, see I'm a warlock with 22 strength and 20 agility." Pinehurst said with an expressionless face.
"Pfft--" Christian's mouthful of goat's milk all sprayed on top of the wool carpet, she blinked a pair of ruby-like magnificent bright blood-colored eyes, incredulously looking at the pale centaur in front of her. "Not it, your strength and agility attributes, even in the adult horse, is also considered a first-class level, a hand compound longbow is used in a miraculous way. But, but ------ you fucking tell me you're a warlock? How did you choose the occupation??"
"I never chose a career!" Peinhus scratched his scalp frantically. This result also made him a million times more frantic as well.
"And yes, the profession of warlock is not quite the same as the others yet." The knowledgeable bard tightened both eyebrows. "Most professions, such as warrior, require years of diligent study and training before they can be successfully obtained. Mages even need a vast amount of excellent educational resources. But the profession of warlock is the result of a sudden awakening of the magical talent latent in the bloodline. You have lived alone in the wilderness for many years, and it is unlikely that anyone will teach you ------ By the way, have you ever subconsciously cast strange spells?"
"There is. But I don't even know how to use that power." Peinhus frowned. A few days ago, when he fierce battle with that black-headed wolf, countless ethereal blue smoke, indeed, emanated from his pores, like countless illusory and ethereal poisonous snakes, deadly wrapped in his wrist, depriving the beast of most of its life energy and saving his life.
Wait, if you say your own attribute panel is DND rules ------ that spell is not the Necromancy Department's first ring spell [Cold Touch] well!
"Don't look at me with expectation, I'm a bard, and there are no mage warlocks or other arcane professions in the clan. No one can teach you how to play the spells of a warlock." Christian bent his slender waist and wiped the creamy stain from the wool carpet. "But we're all gifted people! Our magical power comes not from the diligent study of hydrazinium warriors, let alone the hard study of nerds, but from our own hearts and souls, the kind of powerful talent that comes from birth and far surpasses that of mortals! Little Mustang, I think highly of you."
"Yeah, I didn't think you'd be a warlock, Peinhus! There's another spellcaster in the clan!" Christina also slowly came to her senses at the sound of the duo's boisterous conversation. Gently and quickly, she came to the side of Peinhers, cheering and wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
"Well, but he's a spellcaster who doesn't understand his powers at all." Christian sputtered breathlessly. "Chief you might as well use him as a marauder who comes and goes as he pleases, oh, and given the current state of this guy's language barrier, he might not be able to hunt with our group yet."
Chapter 14: Gnome trade
With the brilliant sunrise rising in the east, the blood rage clan also bathed in the cold soft golden sunlight, the beginning of a new day of life. Thanks to the construction of the snow house yesterday, the men and horses almost cleared the thick snow outside the woods, revealing a large area of frozen grass that had been flattened.
The petite Christian, with the marauders' head, Kulonia, with five druids, fifty marauders, fifty centaur warriors, and three hundred clan herders, with the aid of more than two hundred Caucasian dogs, drove the livestock, grazing more than forty thousand sheep, cattle, and horses that had lost serious fat on the vast Ukrainian steppe. The 40,000-odd groups of densely packed white sheep almost obscured the greenish-yellow dried pasture grass under their feet, blending in with the endless snowfields.
These livestock, but the clan's last resource to survive, so the chief sent most of the clan, and even half of the spellcasters within the clan, to protect the grazing work of the herders. A few elite level 4 marauders, and vine tangled druids, also sent their eagle partners, soaring above the cold blue sky, vigilantly scouting the surrounding information. In case there is this horrible white frost, forced to the desperate human or monster, to plunder the clan's valuable property.
Of course, if they scouted other weak herders, people and horses do not mind taking their livestock supplies by hand to rob. The weak are strong, this is just the most basic nature, but also the most cruel law of survival.
The remaining one hundred and ten marauders, and more than one hundred clan herders, each with four pouches full of flint arrows and bulging animal skin arrow bags, scattered in groups of three or five in all directions, surveying the nearby pastures while also tracking and hunting the nearby beasts to see if they could add some more nutritious meat to the menu tonight.
And the last fifty centaur warriors with fifty heavily armored fearless in lockets and wielding huge two-handed axes were responsible for garrisoning the camp. They patrolled nervously back and forth around the camp. Protecting the remaining hundred or so aging elders inside the camp, or pregnant mares: they were led by Chief Christina, taking care of the camp's big and small affairs.
There are those who are teaching more than 400 ponies to read and write, bend bows and shoot arrows. Some, were making straight arrow shafts and sharp arrow clusters from long, strong wooden branches, with sharp, fine flint. And the carmine centaur chief, using the leftover male wool skin from last night's meal, cut and sewed a brand new woolen cantle for Pinehurst.
Days passed in this way, and Pinehurst slowly got used to this simple and pure nomadic life. Under the strong request of the chief, he temporarily did not participate in any hunting and herding activities, all day to accept the universal language teacher allopathic intensive teaching practice, even if not in the classroom, Christina sisters and other centaurs, but also kindly forced the pale centaurs, and himself a lot of oral conversation.
Half a month later, learning to dizzy Pinehurst, can be counted in the common language, and the clan to carry out normal daily conversation. Of course, he can only speak it, literacy still need to continue to learn diligently. As for the warlock spells ------ still no progress.
---------- ------
Unknowingly, the blood rage clan in this strange land above, ushered in the sixteenth cold, cold morning, the black-skinned bard, and the marauders leader Kulonia once again with most of the warriors out to graze sheep. The nearby pasture, almost chewed up by the flock, they had to drive the flock, more distant from the camp.
It just so happens that yesterday, when the marauders were hunting for deer, they stumbled upon a large piece of very fertile pasture in the south, near the woods. A few more days of good nourishment, the cattle and sheep on the migration road lost fat, should be able to grow back.
"It seems that what Pinehurst said is true. The closer we get to the south, the warmer and wetter the climate will become." The lean and strong Curonian, tenderly stroking the composite longbow in his hand, said cynically. "If only we could really reach the [Crimean peninsula], which is rich in water and grass, as he said, it's just a bunch of wooden fortresses built by humans, if you ask me! A few rounds of rockets and then a cluster charge!"
"Don't even think about it, we don't have enough combat power to overwhelm that wooden fortress." A brown centaur with arms entwined with emerald green vines interrupted the marauder leader's fantasy. "A few days ago, I changed into a raven and surveyed the wooden fortress he was talking about. The pine walls were about 18 feet high and 6 feet wide. The surface is also covered with a layer of thick mud that has long been solidified, you can give up the idea of fire attack, the foot of the wall, but also filled with dense wooden rejection horses. You a cluster charge even if you are looking for death! Even if we doubled our battle strength. Even if we doubled our strength, we would still be in front of that human fortress, crashing into a bloody head. Even the whole army will be wiped out."
"You're too conservative! I don't believe it! One day, the old man will ------ wait, why is my eagle back?" Cullonia argued unconvincingly to. But he has not finished Wan, a wingspan of nearly 8 feet of huge black eagle, then fluttered the athletic pitch-black feathers, precision landed on top of the left arm of the centaur strapped with brown leather armor.
The head predator immediately made an arcane gesture with his right hand and cast an [Animal Talking Art] on himself. From the mouth of his animal companion, he heard shocking words.
"East, uncountable, green, little monsters. Flying close!"
"Agnar! You go inform Christian! I'll take the Marauders over to take a look!" Curonia's debauched face instantly turned incomparably grave. With a wave of his hand, fifty or so Marauders, immediately drew their recurve bows and arrows behind them, recalled their animal companions, accompanied by their boss's pace, like a whistling gale, and sped off to the east. In a short time, a hundred or so ugly green things, then into the eyes of the centaurs: short body, wide sharp ears, big ugly nose, and a pair of dull and evil pupils: this is a goblin colony.
However, these gnomes have been starved of skin and bones. Above the dirty and foul-smelling chest, countless pairs of tiny ribs clearly visible, limbs like withered and decaying twigs, just a gust of wind, will be able to completely blow it off. What's even stranger is that the nearly 100 gnomes, not carrying any livestock and beasts of burden, thin and bony bodies, also not wearing any weapons and armor, neither like the herdsmen who are migrating, nor like the robbers who came to rob livestock. This strange scene. Can't help but let more than thirty marauders into the confusion.
"Don't release the arrows! Don't release the arrows! We're here to trade!" Looking at more than thirty terrifying human horses more than twice their height, aiming their sharp arrow clusters, at their own heads, one by one, the gnomes who were almost starved into skeletons were scared to death, and they all hissed in common language, vociferously.
"You goblins look like you're starving to death, what kind of deal can you make? Voluntarily become our slaves, to exchange a bowl of rice?" Cullonia said incomparably contemptuous. The recurve bow drawn into a full moon in his hand, but also because of the arrogance and slowly loosened.
"Gold! We have countless golden human gold coins! We are willing to buy some sheep for five, no, ten times the price for our bellies!" A gnome at the head of the group, dragging his withered body, faltered and pulled out a beast skin package, tossing dozens of Suderus gold coins on the white snow plain. "This is the deposit! As long as you give us some ewes that are nursing and let us survive this cold winter, we will tell you the location of the clan's buried treasures! Mighty men and horses!"
"Joke! These days livestock are worth much more than precious metals! Not to mention the ewes that produce milk!" Cullonia snorted with laughter. "We're in a tight spot, too, not for sale!"
After hearing the tone of the centaur's refusal, the fast starving gnome group, there was a burst of pitiful wailing sound, a pair of tiny pupils, but also emitted an incomparable despair of the dark look.
"We have iron ore too!" The goblin elders wailed aloud in statements that were almost begging. "You can use it to forge strong armor, sharp arrow clusters, and arm more warriors!"
"No that condition, the furnace is too bulky, long ago we were thrown on the migration road. The grazing around here won't last for a few weeks, and we'll have to keep moving sooner or later. Now, the iron ore will only add to our burden." Curonia waved his hand dismissively.
"Magic items! We have magic items in our hands! As long as we can survive! We are willing to give you all our treasures!" Rejected twice in a row, the gnome elder seemed to be forced to the edge of the cliff, he gritted his teeth hard and hissed in parting despair.
"Hmm?" Curonia raised an eyebrow in surprise. These gnomes who were dying of hunger actually had incomparably rare [Magic Items] in their hands? When he was a child, he once listened to a bard's fairy tale with fascination, to the effect that a greedy rich man died of hunger on top of his mountains of gold coins. I didn't think such a foolish person could actually meet in the real world?
Live long, live long.
"We were once a mighty gnome kingdom! A thousand miles in size! With a million armors! But half a year ago, we were crushed by humans! The invincible bear goblin chief was beheaded by the human king! The people were scattered like drifting weeds in the rain! And I! I am the chief's advisor! Now I am the only one who knows where his treasure is buried! Where he has accumulated years of wealth, a lot of gold coins like a stream, flowing between countless mountains of exotic treasures!" Seeing the suspicious look on the faces of the horses and men in front of him, the old gnome immediately made up a story in a colorful way, not knowing whether it was true or not, trying to win the trust of the head of the looters in front of him.
"Good." Curonia revealed a greedy smile, and after glancing at each other with his left and right and nodding tacitly, the fifty or so marauders, then redrew the composite longbow into a terrifying full moon. The sharp flint arrow tips were steadily aimed at the gnome elders' foreheads. "I also propose a deal! You have to use the gold coins, iron ore, and magic items you mentioned to ransom your pitiful little lives! How about that? If things are in good condition, I will consider giving you a few rams! You can also drink its [milk] to survive! Hahahaha!"
Chapter 15: Far East production, shocking
The dimly lit dense forest near the ranch, densely hidden countless pairs of hateful twisted evil pupils, they stared dead at the ranch more than 40,000 head of cattle, sheep and horses, have revealed a mouth-watering greedy gaze.
"Head! Head!" A malnourished gnome, carefully weaving between the thorn-strewn jungle, spoke ecstatically. "Chief! Gargoyles they become--"
"Keep your voice down! Monsters like centaurs are very alert! I've been planning to ambush them for days! I finally used a more fertile pasture to lure those half-human, half-horse guys here!" A large bear gnome, a slap on the face of the scrawny scout. The gnome's large, ugly green nose was broken and bent directly by the tremendous force of the bear's paw, clinging to his own dirty, skinny cheek.
The huge rough palm of the hand, while stopping the gnome from talking, incidentally also stopped the other party from breathing.
"Next time, I'll just shoot your brains out! Say it, what is it!" The bear gnome nervously observed the changes in the centaur herders, and after a while, after making sure they didn't notice anything unusual over here, he took a long breath and lifted his immense palm from the face of the gnome who had almost suffocated to death.
"Hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo," the gnome scout said in a somewhat weak voice as he held his nose upright with trepidation and took a big breath of that long-lost cold air. "G-g-g-gri they did it, the greedy centaur marauders, and the birds hovering in the sky, all tricked by him into going to the false treasure cache!"
"Haha! Very good! Three days ago, we met a group of goblin clans that migrated from the Far East, and the Lord Chief of the Barbarian Claw Clan, however, purchased a batch of incredibly rare Eastern armaments from them! With these weapons, the clan will be able to defeat these mighty men and horses! Little ones! Get ready to go! Kill all the horses and men! Kill all the horses and men! The bear gnome greedily twitched his large bear nose and spat out two streams of moist white mist.
Savage Claw Clan has been forced to the brink of extinction by Winter in the north, and the Eastern Goths in the south. Want to live, either kill most of the gnomes in the clan, reducing the number of mouths to eat. Either that or to rob others of their food.
Obviously, the Barbarian Claw Clan chose the latter.
"KILL!!!"
With the sound of a roar, thousands of goblins dressed in ragged animal skins, left hand holding a masked wooden shield, right hand wielding short spears, axes, daggers, and even wooden sticks, like a dirty tide, scrambled out of the dark forest, viciously killed in the direction of the blood rage clan!
"Gnomes?!" The centaur herdsman closest to the filthy wave, after a brief moment of surprise, quickly drew the horn made from a cow horn at his waist and sent its high-pitched, mournful sound of chirping throughout the pasture!!!
"Woo! Woo! Woo-"
"Two short horns and one long horn? Enemy attack!"
"This trumpet sound is so close! Where's Curonian? What are his Marauder scouts doing? Letting the enemy touch so close?"
"Skerritt's up there! So many gnomes!!!"
After the initial panic, the Blood Fury clan immediately moved in an orderly fashion, with over a hundred herders, with over two hundred Caucasian dogs, quickly protecting and moving the flock away from the battlefield.
The fifty brave warriors, led by Luga, led more than two hundred clan herders, chanting the great name of the gods of nature and community, while running forward, while bending their bows and arrows, under the cooperation of natural strength and composite longbows, the sharp arrows shot by the horses and men, produced a qualitative change! They are like countless soul-stealing banshees, whistling and cutting through the cold air, directly piercing and tearing the fragile flesh and blood skin of the gnomes, nailing their malnourished and thin bodies to the snow or tree trunks. A front and a back, while splashing two hideous eye-catching scarlet waves!
"We have long-range weapons too! Fire back! Shoot back!" Some stupid gnomes. Brandishing crude wooden javelins in their hands, they threw them viciously in the direction of the centaurs - but the distance between the two sides was too far, and the goblins' throwing skills were too clumsy, more than eighty wooden javelins, sparsely stuck on top of the snow more than 50 feet in front of Luga, amusing the centaurs with laughter.
The front-running centaur warrior, once again bent his bow and arrow, as if hunting, after shooting more goblins that he did not like, hung his composite longbow on his horse, backhandedly pulled out a leather-covered wooden shield, and a three-meter-long wooden spear, under the cover of a rain of arrows from more than two hundred clan herders, rushed headlong into the dirty and muddy wave of goblin infantry!
"Now is the time!!!" The bear gnome still hiding in the jungle roared loudly in excitement. At his order, forty goblins in groups of two carried twenty bear goblins from the Far East clan, purchased at great cost, long ago strung rhubarb crossbows, moved to the edge of the woods, pointed at Luga who rushed in the forefront, and pulled the trigger!
"Pfft!!!"
After hearing the sound of the crossbow's incomparably harsh whistle that cut through the air, Lu Jia raised his left wooden shield to protect his heart and neck. Even so, the whistling horror of the crossbow arrows, or easily tear the pine forged strong shield, and masked in its surface of the smooth animal skin, grazing Lu Jia left shoulder flew past!
Fortunately, the goblins were not trained to shoot these military heavy crossbows, and they missed half of the arrows, and the remaining half, were dodged by the battle-hardened men and horses. However, there were still four powerful warriors who were torn by the crossbow arrows with flesh and blood and armor. The whole face was covered with fine beads of sweat from the pain! Hard to hold on to not let out a miserable wail.
One unlucky guy got an arrow in the head, he didn't even grunt all over, he fell to the ground and died in a pool of his own blood!
"Hahahaha! Little ones! Pin them down here! Wolf cavalry out! Chase down the fleeing men and horses! The stamina and speed of these wolves purchased from the Far East Clan far exceed those of ordinary steppe wolves!" The bear goblins laughed in triumph.
Under his orders, the last goblin unit was also thrown into the battlefield. This hundred goblins were very well equipped compared to their fellow robes, each wearing a simple leather armor. Each man wore a simple leather armor, and was armed with a small wooden shield and a short spear.
The 100 "wolves" brought over from the Far East under the crotch of the gnomes are a brand new breed that the monsters living in the pastures of Eastern Europe have never seen before: their bodies are huge and athletic. Their eyes are as blue as a lake, and the fur on their bellies and limbs is as pale as snow, but the fur on their backs and foreheads is pure pitch black.
The most important thing is that this group of wolves, which originated from the Far East and had never been seen before, were extremely energetic! They could carry the gnomes for dozens of kilometers and still be able to spill their guts!
"Why aren't they firing arrows yet!" The bear gnome who was watching the back of the wolf cavalry scattering away suddenly felt that something was wrong, how come those twenty big yellow crossbows were not firing?
"Head! This string is too tight! We can't pull it!" The forty goblins cried out as they exerted all their strength and their faces turned red, but they still couldn't pull the powerful heavy crossbow!" That traitor has cheated us! What is this powerful weapon that even the weakest slaves can use? Bullshit!"
"What?" The bear gnome growled incredulously to. He suddenly remembered that the merchant, probably seems to have only let himself test fire an arrow to verify the power, did not even mention the matter of winding! The ones sold to the clan were also finished with good strings. At that time a bunch of bear goblins exclaimed its power, also forgot this crop ...
"Grass! Cheated by that treacherous merchant!" The bear gnome hated his teeth, while looking in horror at the group of wolf cavalry that had run out of shadows as soon as they scattered." Those black and white vicious wolves, they won't have any side effects too ..."