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Pawstruck (A dog-based LitRPG)

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Most dogs don't get a System.

But most dogs aren't the Loafblade.

The Kingdom of Arwyll...

TraversingtheDark

Getting some practice in, huh?
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81479-pawstruck-rise-of-the-loafblade-a-progression.jpg



Most dogs don't get a System.

But most dogs aren't the Loafblade.

The Kingdom of Arwyll teeters on the brink of collapse.

A great evil has awoken. Served by legions of deformed monsters, it is intent on nothing more than the corruption and devastation of all sentient life. It is The Darkseed. The Endbringer. And it will not stop.

There's only one hero brave enough to stand against it.

And his bark's just as bad as his bite.



What to expect from Pawstruck:

+A Skills-centric LitRPG (Level ups on use, Morphs at specific levels)

+Battles that emphasize synergy between non-combat + combat related skilltrees

+A globe-trotting adventure through a world on its last legs.

+Comedic tone with darker moments as the story progresses.

+Continuous skill progression.

+Non-human + human companions.

+A canine protagonist with a big mouth

...who really wants headpats, now.
 
Chapter 1 - Jailbreak
You know what's worse than being hungry?

Being food.

"Oi, Grekk! Sling another bit of that chicken wing over here!"

"You got it, Boss. Chicken taste good tonight."

Those are the delightful voices of my green-skinned, pointy-eared captors as they munch on the other dead animal carcasses that surround my rusty cage.

"Dis one's git wood in it!"

"Ah, shut it ya vlech. Eat up afore the Greys come back through here."

Above, rainfall trickles through the dark leaves of the Deshaan forest and settles on my twitching ears. My tail, tucked between my legs, provides me with little warmth. Through all my fur I still shiver away, and my doggie instincts kick in – forcing me to mewl for attention. Making me beg for just a scrap of –

OW!

A stout kick is all I receive in return.

"Shut it, ya git!" the one called 'Boss' roars in my face, sending his putrid spittle flying into my eyes. I whimper and move back, seeking the farthest corner away from him while he pokes his big knife through the cage door and jabs at my hide.

"Pot's gonna be boilin' soon," the green man giggles viciously. "You ready to be served up, little furry rat?"

I risk my life in barking back at him. Listen, buddy. I am a dog! I am a CORGI! C-O-R-G-I! I am no rat! No sewer crawler, me. I am-

A thrust of his blade nicks my leg and I am pushed back against the bars, quivering as I try to lick my new wound.

"Pathetic," the creature says as he spits at me. "Stupid and useless. Good fer nothin' but waving your dumb furry ass in our faces. That's what pissed me off about ya the most, don't'cha know?"

He leans in close and smiles, showing his rotted teeth. All my senses are filled by nothing but his foul-smelling breath.

"Don't worry – you'll be a good meal for me and the boys. You'll finally be put ta good use, sittin' in our bellies, keeping us strong. That's all yer really good for, innit? Meat."

I set to licking the wound he's inflicted on my leg till I finally fall asleep, shivering in the cold, unprotected by the flimsy bars when thunder cracks above and more cold, uncaring tears start to fall from the sky.

Gentlefolk, gentlebeasts, and all things in between, I ask you: is this the life a dog should live?

Well, it's mine. And it's ending one hour at a time.


***


Crack.

My ears perk up.

Movement.

My eyes adjust to the darkness of night and the starlight that now drapes itself through the treetops. One such beam of illumination lights on the rustling bushes beside my cage, and I suppress a desire to bark in excitement as I see three wolves emerge like ghostly visions before me.

I eagerly watch them approach, my tail wagging happily from within my rusty cage, barely feeling the cold dampness of the forest gnaw at my tiny bones now.

They whisper among themselves before they sniff at my sad little face. Then one of them – a raggedy, scruffy looking female - snorts at my tiny form.

"This little runt cannot be the one," she spits. "Look at him. He is nothing like us."

I don't disagree. I'm a fraction of their size, my hairs are comfy but thick, my eyes are canine yet beady, and my butt is round and obtrusive. I lack their superior limbs and regal, straight-backed air, but at least we share a common ancestor. That counts for something, right?

But, hang on, what's all this about 'the one'?

The leader looks at the female and growls. He's an old one. One eyed and sharp fanged. Tough looking fella, and I'm not ashamed to admit I'm a little frightened as he approaches me and sniffs my curious snout, smiling strangely.

"All those who travel upon four paws are our Brothers and Sisters, Snappingjaw," he says to the female. "This one is small. But he has not given in to despair. His eyes tell me there is strength within him."

I wag my tail happily. This guy gets it.

"Bleh!" the female spits back. "The goblins will taste of that strength when they stew him and chew on his innards tonight! Look at him, Elder Witherfang – he has the same shape and color as a loaf of freshly baked bread. Pathetic."

The Elder looks to the third companion who merely shrugs as though he's apologizing for the female's words.

I won't say she's wrong. But I will say, for the record, that I am certainly not a loaf of bread.

"How came you to be trapped here, little one?" the Elder asks.

I bark wildly at him, trying to tell him that I have no idea - that, as a matter of fact, I don't even remember my own name. All I know is that these goblins are heart set on gobbling my tiny bones and I'm glad they haven't quite learned how to cook me yet.

The three wolves simply stare back at me like I'm some broken wind-up toy. Should've known they wouldn't understand me. My wolfspeak's a little rusty.

"He has lost his sense of kinship," the old one grunts sadly. "He is a Brother without a voice. But still, if there is a mind that lives behind those large ears of yours, little one, then heed my warning: to the East, a great battle has been lost. Heroes have fallen. This world teeters on the brink of collapse. And soon, one of the dying shall come to rest here. He may be your only chance of escape. He may be your best chance of freedom."

That word...freedom...

Tell me, old one - what is does it mean?

There's something about that word that strikes me like a hammer banging at the core of my being. My whole body creeps forwards, my paws scrabbling at the bars of my prison to grasp at the answer.

He doesn't reply. Instead, he places his firm, wild paw on mine and utters a final message before he and his pack escape back through the brush:

"When the time comes, do the right thing, little one. Show them we canines still know what freedom means."

BUT I DON'T! I wail desperately. TELL ME!

"Farewell."

I poke my head as far as I can out the iron bars that surround me and call out to them, trying to howl as they do at the top of the mountains, crying out to the moon that hangs above us all.

But my voice barely carries. It's not even loud enough to wake the green men.

So I watch them go in wonder, tongue lolling out in confusion, as the word of the wolves keeps repeating itself like an echo sung from their mountain lair.

Freedom...


***


He came when the green men's fire had burned out.

My ears perk up before my eyes catch the sight of movement in the brush. Not the stealthy steps of the wolves, not the labored shuffling of green men. These steps are heavy. Burdened. Almost more like a limp.

And I fight against the primal desire to growl when I finally see a silver hand grab on to the side of a tree trunk and push the body it's attached to out of the brush.

It's a human.

I search my brain. Humans mean one of two things: trouble, or petting. And by the looks of this guy, I'm gonna go ahead and assume the former.

Clad in an ashen cloak with a hood that hides his face from my sight, he lumbers into the camp and falls to one knee. I see the shining armor he wears on his leg. My nose twitches uncontrollably, taking in the new scents of this being – his musky, sweaty aura and the stench of something else. Something new. Something that was seeping out from under his cloak.

It's red. The same shade of red that spills out of me when I'm wounded by the savage green ones.

A...Are you ok? I bark.

He answers me by coughing up a torrent of the red liquid from his mouth and falling prone on the ground before my cage.

This thud wakes the goblins, and they drowsily begin to rise, slowly realizing that there is an intruder in their midst.

I jump around as much as I can, barking at the man.

You have to help me! I bark. Help! They are going to eat me! I do not want to be eaten!

His eyes are not like eyes I have seen before. The pupils are unfocused. There are thick purple bags beneath them. His hair falls over the rest of his face and I have no idea if he even says anything back to me.

"G-g-g-" one of the green men stutters. "GREYCLOAK!"

This word seems to frighten the other green men, and they reach for their nasty, spiky weapons.

Come on! I yelp as loud as I can, seeing my chance and taking it despite the pain my tormentors might visit upon me. Get up! Get up!

Then I hear the man's voice – gravelly and distant, like a fading specter echoing down a hallway:

"Goblins…ngh…not even…worth…my time…"

His words are punctuated by another cough of blood.

"Get 'im!" the nasty goblin leader who hurt me earlier shouts. "Get 'im! We gonna eat good tonight, boys!"

I snarl as the green men approach, their weapons drawn, licking their lips.

I – I – I…I stutter.

What do I do?

His eyes begin to close over, and probably would have done nothing more had I not lapped at his face with my tongue, coming away with my mouth covered in his blood.

Look...if I can't do anything else, at least know...I'm sorry, I try to tell him through another bark. I'm sorry I can't help you.

To my surprise, his eyes have shot open again, and he looks at me as though I've have stabbed him in the gut.

The green men inch forwards.

"Heh," the dying man says. "A tiny creature…showing kindness…in this world of…despair…"

I watch his eyes closely. For some reason I cannot pinpoint, I find that I cannot look away.

"Is it chance? Or something…more…"

His voice, once tinged with only pain, is suddenly overcome with compassion and warmth.

"You can…have it," he whispers as a goblin positions the tip of his big knife above the human's throat. "Carry it…for me…"

The goblin shrieks with glee as its weapon comes down.

"Finish…the…fight…"

Then, before I watch his eyes close shut forever, a wave of fire washes over me.

My cage is blown apart, my paws are lifted off the ground, and I find that I'm looking down upon the green men now from above, flailing around above the inert body of the man, barking, shrieking for dear life as a pillar of bold letters smears itself across my eyes:



---SYSTEM INITIALIZING---

[Creature Designation: CORGI]

Name: RAZIEL

Main Quest: FINISH THE FIGHT




--You have earned the title: Free dog—



[You gain the following Core Skills]

Bite (Level I)

Dig (Level I)

Doggie Dash (Level I)

Snoop (Level I)

Bark (Level I)

Wag (Level I)

Consume (Level I)

Softpaws (Level I)



[You may choose one of the following Martial Proficiencies]

Bladed Weapons

Blunt Weapons

Marksman tools

Magic Staves



--COMBAT MODE: ACTIVATING--
 
Chapter 2: Free dog!
[LOADING SKILL COOLDOWNS]

[COOLDOWNS...LOADED!]

[LOADING COMBAT ANALYSIS MODULE]




WHAT IS GOING ON?

I look down upon the green men's awestruck faces from above, my paws walking on nothing but the cold night air. No longer do I feel the rain on my fur. Now, I am warm. I am – free?

As soon as this thought comes I plumet down to the burned-out crater where my cage once was.

The green men look at me. I look back.

Then the leader screams.

"DEMON!" he cries out, again throwing spittle into the air. "Demon dog! KILL IT! KILL IT!"

What? I am no demon. I am a corgi! I told you before – a cor-



[COMBAT ANALYSIS MODULE...LOADED!]

COMBAT ENCOUNTER: INITIATED

CORGI x1 VS GOBLIN BANDITS x5




WHAT?!

I cannot even examine these strange buzzing words in the back of my skull as one of the green ones (a 'goblin'?) shoots an arrow at me.

I watch it coming. I can see its trajectory.

I feel fear.

I think only one thought: RUN AWAY!



[Core Skill: Doggie Dash]

LVL I

Effect: Your paws instantaneously carry you out of harm's way up to a distance of 50ft

Duration: 3 minutes

Cooldown: 24 hours

ACTIVATED




Next thing I know I'm zipping across the camp, past the bonfire, the goblins, and I hear the arrow that was launched at me ricochet off the tree that was once behind me.

I look down at my paws to see that they're…glowing?

The goblins bellow something in a language I don't understand, and I hear them shuffle through the camp towards me, their big knives being drawn, their war cries piercing my little eardrums.

Ok. Ok. Ok. Ok, I think. I need to run away. I need to run away again. I need to-



[Dash time remaining: 2 minutes]




GO!

I do. As soon as the thought forms I'm off, zipping past trees, bushes, and forest creatures staring at my fleeting shape with complete confusion. I don't stop. I run until I feel my paws go numb, and even then I run some more, trying to clear the dark trees that cover my vision until – OUCH!

I fall to the ground.



[Doggie Dash: Depleted]

[Cooldown: 24hrs]




Twenty….four….I think as my mind goes blank. That's like...half…my life…

My head clouds, but I manage to stagger up and shake myself off, now preoccupied with the thing that I'd bumped into.

It was long. Dark. Shaped like a big thorn that grew on some of the plants I'd seen – the thorns that hurt my nose when I sniffed them. This one is bigger, though, and looks far more dangerous.

I try to move around it, but it follows me. It's long tendril whips about as though its alive and wants to hurt me. No matter how much I try to get past the big dark shape, it blocks my way.

I say! I bark. You are the most unfriendly plant I've ever met!

One undulating spot in the middle of the thorn then jerks open.

And a crimson eye with a black pupil looks out at me.

NOPE.

I turn tail immediately and run back the way I came. I am NOT dealing with that. No, sir. Living plants are fine. Green men at least I can run away from. But I draw the line at plants with big red eyes. I am a corgi. I am destined for less evil things.

Then again, I'm running right back into danger, aren't I?

My fear is reignited when an arrow flies out of a bush, whizzes by my head, and embeds itself in the dead bark of a gnarled tree behind me. Thank any gods that exist for my tiny corgi form!

Two of the goblins then emerge through the bush and aim their bows at my face, both snarling with glee.

"We found you!" one cries. "We got you, ya little git! Now it's time ta see how dead dog demon tastes!"

Anger takes over me, this time. Not fear.

I am NOT a demon! I bark at them. I am a CORGI! C-O-R-G-I – CORGI! Demons are not warm and fuzzy. Demons do not like smelling flowers. Demons certainly do NOT have small jiggly butts. Can you not see the difference!

They laugh in the face of my incessant barking and nock their arrows.

Even though I should be running, I simply can't. The insult to my breed is just too much.

If you're going to kill me, at least get your facts right! I howl, trying to mimic the noble wolves. I. AM. A. CORGI!



[Core Skill: Bark]

LVL I

Effect: You strengthen your lungs, and your tiny mouth belches a vicious rebuke at your foes.

20% chance to invoke a flee reaction in common foes.

Duration: 1 minute

Cooldown: 1 hour.




I keep barking with greater ferocity until I notice that one of them starts shaking. He drops his bow.

"Gith?" his friend asks, incredulous. "What are ye doing?!"

"L-l…look at its eyes, Malth!" the shaking goblin stutters. "Look at it! It's a demon, alright. It's a demon that'll curse us if we kill it! You'll see! It's small now, but it'll summon its evil minions ta feast on our bones! Grind us ta dust! You'll see! You'll see!"

The goblin covers his eyes in the face of my barking while his friend tries his best to comfort him. But honestly, I'm barely listening to him.

I AM A CORGI! I howl to the moon. A CORGI!

"See!?" the shivering goblin says, grabbing his friend and shaking him incessantly. "Ya see? It'll have our guts fer garters! It'll drink the blood from our heads! You'll see! YOU'LL SEE!"

And finally, the screaming goblin runs off, throwing his arrows to the forest floor and waving his arms in the air as he disappears into the darkness.

His friend is left with one hand in the air, reaching towards his departed comrade.

"Malth…" he murmurs. "What am I gonna tell Ma when we get home…?"

I get the feeling that the goblin is about to go into a long monologue, and so I waste no time in seizing my chance and sinking my teeth into the skin just above his exposed foot.

"I-AAARGH!"



[Core Skill: Bite]

ACTIVATED

LVL I: (Ankle) You sink your teeth into the flesh of a foe, and hinder their combat prowess.

An {ankle bite} <HOBBLES> your opponent – reducing their movement speed and making them more sluggish.

Duration: 30 seconds.

Cooldown: 1 minute




"You little shit!" the goblin roars, a dagger flashing in his hand as he pulls it out from under his waist and takes a swipe at me. He falls to one knee and grips his bleeding foot, growling in fury. I growl right back.

"We'll get you, soon," he says. "Don't you worry."

I don't waste time worrying. Satisfied that my message has sank in, I depart through the bushes to the West. The great wolf had said a great battle had been lost in the East, and so I avoid that direction.

I can dimly make out the cries of the other goblins who must have been scanning the area, trying to find me. But, with nothing more than running to do, I decided I should take some time to think as I blasted through the vines, thorns, and brambles of this hellish place.

Let us recap the last hour, shall we?

I was captured. About to be served up as meat. Then, a strange man called a 'Greycloak' comes to die before me. I send him off with a little lick of pity, and then I'm suddenly imbued with all these new, strange powers and sensations. Not that anything I'm doing isn't exactly par for the course for my breed – but the intensity behind them! The strength I feel bouncing around in my tiny bones. It's…miraculous.

But one thing's for sure: it's not mine.

And this 'quest' thingy? 'Finish the fight'? What did that mean? My fight with these goblins? Or something else entirely?

As I think the thought, I see more words appear inside my buzzing brain:



Current [Main Quest]: FINISH THE FIGHT

The Darkseed has risen, and the call of the Grey must be answered.




I have literally no clue what any of this means.

Just then, I emerge onto the crook of a small riverbed running the length of the forest's edge. I'm close to an exit – I must be. I can see the light beaming through the dead trees on the other side of the riverbank. If I can just get out of here and find the wolves, maybe they can help me. We may not exactly be blood relatives, but there was a kindness in the old one's heart. And he knows something about all this – about this 'battle', and about these Greycloaks.

But this 'Darkseed' thing? That's something new.

And just when I think things can't get any more confusing, I hear a familiar voice snarl from behind me.

"There ye are, ya little shit," the goblin leader says as he licks his vile weapon. "I'm gonna enjoy this."
 
Chapter 3: Demon
The head goblin glides his tongue across his blade, eyeing me hungrily by the riverbank.

I whimper, moving back till I feel my paws skitter on the edge of the bank, sending tiny pebbles falling into the dark waters below.

"Demon," the goblin boss snarls. "Yer in league with them, aren't you?"

I cock my head at him.

Them?

"Don't play dumb, demon!" he roars. "The trees! Yer one of their servants, aren't you!"

I blink my beady eyes at him.

Poor ugly creature. He must be insane.

That makes sense. Only an insane creature would desire to feast upon the flesh of a corgi rather than scratch its fluffy belly.

He inches forward, his long knife glinting in the shadows of the looming trees, and I try my luck at barking up a storm like I did before.



[Bark]

ACTIVATED




This time, however, he just smiles and licks his slitted lips.

"Ye don't scare me," he spits. "I'm gonna gut ye good fer killin' Malth."

Malth? I ponder, shaking my head. I didn't kill him! He ran away! He ran-

"Enough!" the green monster bellows at me, before lunging towards me with renewed anger. "DIIIE!"

He comes at me twirling his blade in his hand, faster than I can defend myself.

I'm going to die! I can't look!

And as I turn away from him, more words cascade through my canine brain:



[Wag]

LVL I

Effect: Your tail starts whipping up a storm, bludgeoning incoming foes and pushing them up to 15 ft away

Duration: 5 seconds

Cooldown: 1 minute

ACTIVATED




"AHHHHH!"

I open my beady eyes as I see the goblin leader sail through the air and plummet down into the river below, swallowed up by the rushing waters with a vague curse bubbling through his lips.

I stare unblinking at the sight of him being washed away, his curses echoing down the riverbank, while I feel a numbness gnaw at my butt.

And, looking back, I scream with horror to see my tail practically helicoptering around as though it is a mechanical rotor.

Stop! I cry. Stop, tail! Stop! Down!

And just like that, it finally ceases its exertions.

Good! I say, giving it a little lick, even as my mind clouds over with the fact that there are distinct parts of my body that suddenly have minds of their own.

I turn to look at my reflection in the waters below – the murky depths of the liquid providing me with a black, hazy image of my fuzzy form.

Alright, look here, I bark at myself. Whatever's going on here, I want answers. I think I deserve that. All these weird powers – whatever's inside me making them happen – firstly, okay, thank you. You got me out of a pinch. But still! I didn't ask to become a mutant corgi! I'm not supposed to be a fighter! I'm supposed to be adorable! So, tell me: what is it you want? What's happening to me?

And like an uncaring master rubbing my face in my own excrement, the same meaningless words wash over my brain again:



Current Main Quest: FINISH THE FIGHT

Details: The Darkseed has risen, and the call of the Grey must be answered



B-but what does any of that mean? I bark at my dark reflection. What's any of that got to do with me?

There's a pause. A silence broken only by the head goblin's continuous cries that still echo down from the end of the river. Then: more words in my brain:



Name: RAZIEL




I pause, staring into my own tiny eyes. And the confusion that's reflected at me annoys me for some reason.

Raziel? Is that really my name?

And I swear, by the pricking of my paws, that my reflection nods back at me.

"FOUND HIM!"

Crap! I bark. More goblins – this time, from somewhere nearby. But the riverbed is making too much noise. I can't focus.

"What are ye waiting for, dolt!" someone shouts. "FIRE!"

I close my eyes again. Out here, in the open, I'm a goner. But if I can find out where these sounds are coming from…



[Snoop]

LVL I

Effect: Your canine senses are heightened for a short time, allowing you to perceive sentient life forms up to a distance of 100 ft around you

Duration: 10 secs

Cooldown: 10 minutes

ACTIVATED




There, I think, as I feel the world slow down around me, and everything becomes so much more lucid, including the bowstring that's being pulled back in the bushes across the river.

I hear the goblin lick his dried, swamp-green lips. I hear the bowstring snap back.

And I roll to the left as the arrow flies right past me, barely grazing the hair on my hide.

"What the...?" the attacking goblin shouts, jumping up from his hiding place on the opposite side of the bank.

His friend – the other life form I sensed berating him – jumps up to clap him around his ears.

"Ya MORON!" he shouts. "If you'd practiced instead of drinkin' all night yer aim would've been better!"

I suppress a chuckle to see these two hideous beasts act like a pair of little siblings, but then I realize something – only six seconds have past since I activated this 'Snoop' ability, and so right now, in the remaining duration of its apparent effectiveness, I spy something else. Something that's moving, creeping, slowly converging on the goblins' position.

Something that's coming from…underground?

Hey! I bark at the pair of prattling greenskins. Run away! You should run! Even if you are bad stinky green men!

They both look at me with only disgust in their eyes. I can see – as only a member of my species can – that they register panic in my incessant barking and jumping – but they either choose to ignore it willfully or are so intent on my death that they cannot heed the warning.

"Shut it, demon mutt!" the failed archer screams at me. "And hold still this time! Me arrows gonna go right through yer little raisin eye, and then I'll put yer head on me pointy stick!"

I mewl quietly while I back away, my paws shaking as an earthquake racks the forest floor.

Run! I shout to them again. Something is-

"QUIET!" the archer's friend shouts back. "Grax, take the shot!"

But Grax doesn't get the chance. Indeed, he barely even registers his friend's command. Instead, he drops his bow, looks at the ground, then up at me again.

"Falk," he begins. "We gotta -!"

His sentence is interrupted by a cry of panic as a long, dark thorn pierces the earth beneath him and grabs him by his throat. His friend watches in mute horror as the lithe plant begins to squeeze the goblin's neck and his limbs flail at the bark of the beast in utter desperation, trying to dislodge himself. His eyes bulge like two inflating balloons in a mute cry for help.

I turn away before the inevitable happens. All I hear is the blood curdling sound of the goblin's neck popping like grapefruit, and the manic screams of his friend as the thorn reaches for him next.

If that's not my cue to run like hell, I don't know what is.

***

I follow the riverbed, traveling upstream, trying to work out a way to cross and clear the edge of the forest. But everywhere I go, I am forced to confront more of the evil thorns that rupture the earth and swipe at me as I run.

What's your problem?! I snap at each one.

Their crimson eyes open, blink, and then stare at me as though I am just as much a monstrosity as they.

Rude! I bark before I move on.

As I run, I hear more screams – screams of goblins, forest creatures, and other beings I can't even begin to fathom. All of them share just one thing: they are screaming their death cries into the night sky.

And the forest is swallowing all of them. Literally.

I curse myself when I stop in front of the first thorn I saw before – realizing that I've just ran in a circle. But, before I move on, I am forced to confront the greater threat here: the thorn has the goblin that I hobbled earlier in its grip, slowly choking him like the other one at the riverbed.

"D-D-DEEEMON!" the greenskin gargles through his frothing mouth.

And through a mixture of confusion, frustration, and sheer fear, I pick a different direction and run.

***

When I eventually make it back to the goblins camp, I fall on my side and let my tongue lol out my mouth. I'm not safe, not by a long shot, but the slight warmth from the fire is what I need to rejuvenate me right now, and none of the evil thorns seem to have burrowed through the earth here.

Why? I ask no one, panting with sheer fatigue. If I knew this is what this 'freedom' thing would feel like, I probably would've just stayed in that cage.



-You have gained the title: Ungrateful Pooch-




Hey! I bark. What's that all about?



[You gain the following Core Skills]

Bad Attitude (LVL I)



I turn my nose up at this 'skill' – it sounds more like an insult to me.

Well, let's take a look at it:



[Core Skill: Bad Attitude]

LVL I

Effect: Your negative outlook on life guarantees you less favorable reactions from other beings.

PASSIVE: Chance of <HEADPATS> reduced by 10%




Damn it! I yelp. How dare you? You – whatever you are in my head! I'm going through a lot right now! If you want me to 'finish the fight' – whatever the hell that means – you'd better get used to the fact that this dog needs a break every now and then!

Just as I think there's going to be a response, my nose picks up on something beside me. Lying next to the fire is the corpse of the goblin that had run away earlier – Malth, I think his name was? Well, the leader had certainly not lied – he's lying here as dead as dead can get, covered in flies and reeking of rotten flesh.

There's a series of splinters lodged in his chest…

Looking at him, I know I should be horrified. But something suddenly takes hold of me. I'm thinking: a way out, I need a way out. And all at once I'm focused on the dead goblin's slimy, greasy feet.

Um….I ponder, my tongue unconsciously lapping at the sides of my fangs. What..?



[Core Skill: Consume]

LVL I

Effect: Body parts can be consumed to gain context-sensitive information dependent on the limb being eaten.

*Note: Most civilized societies view corpse consumption as morally decadent. Refrain from using [Consume] in polite company to maintain your social standing

Duration: Personal

Cooldown: 24 hrs



OH, HOW NICE, I mumble, about ready to vomit at the prospect of my body actually considering this. What a lovely, historic skill to bestow upon a corgi like me! Look, I'm starving, I'll admit it. But I'm not desperate! And I will not lower my race by succumbing to –



*Note: <FOOT> consumption reveals information about the most recent movements of the owner.




My eyes go wide as I suddenly grasp the implication. Yes…obviously the goblins had trekked into the forest in order to make their camp. So…if I…did this…thing…I could learn which way they'd come from. Then, it's just a case of following the pathway out…

I consider it. I actually consider it, and I'm not proud to admit that it sounds like a good idea. I could spend the rest of this dark night traversing the labyrinth of killer thorns, frantic goblins and who knows what else till one of them gets me...

…or I could suck it up, nibble on these green toes, and get out. Now.

I gulp, feeling sweat clam my forehead.

Am I really going to do this?



*Note: <FOOT> consumption reveals information about the most recent-




I KNOW! I KNOW! You don't have to tell me again.

I edge closer, risking a cautious lick.

And oh…oh no.

IT TASTES GOOD!

LIKE, REALLY GOOD.

I'm shaking now, and I try to keep myself from retching as my twitching nose moves closer and my mouth begins to salivate, spurned on now by the taste of the goblin's flesh

Before what's about to happen happens, I close my eyes.

To any of the Gods watching above, I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry.

My teeth bite down.

Bottoms up…
 
Definitely caught my eye. Reminds me of Doormaker Dog, so I'm looking forward to seeing how he grows.
 

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