[STATUS RECAP: THE KLIK-KIN HIERARCHY - Post-Siege]
Host: Klik (The King)
Level: 15 (1st Evolution)
Rank: F-Rank (Peak)
Class: [Field Scavenger] Lvl 10 (1st Evo Cap!)
Stats (Crippled): STR: 15, AGI: 17, STA: 19, INT: 36, PER: 32, MANA: 16
Debuff: [Fused E-Rank Armor] (-2 STR, -2 AGI).
Quests: [The Logic of Creation (Class Evo)], [Defend the Lair! (COMPLETE)].
Lieutenant 1: Snarl the Grave-Stalker (The Hunter)
Level: 3 (2nd Evolution)
Rank: E-Rank (Lower)
Stats (Base): STR: 20, AGI: 32, STA: 22, INT: 4, PER: 24 (Scent-Based)
Key Skills: [Scent-Hunter (E-Rank)], [Lesser-Stealth (Passive)], [Bone-Crushing-Jaw (Active)].
Equipment: [Goblin-Forged Acid-Tip Spear (F-Peak)].
Lieutenant 2: Bruk (The Guard)
Level: 11 (1st Evolution)
Rank: F-Rank (Peak)
Stats (Crippled): STR: 9 (Base 11 - Debuff), AGI: 4 (Base 5 - Debuff), STA: 10 (Base 11 - Debuff), INT: 3, PER: 4
Traits/Debuffs: [E-Rank Burns (Severe)], [Crippled Limb (Left Arm)], [Fire-Scarred (Lesser)].
Key Skills: [Mace-Fighting (Basic) Lvl 3], [Toughness (Lvl 1)].
Equipment: [Iron-Sharded Mace (Common)], [Melted-Chitin-Shield (Fused/Junk)].
Lieutenant 3: Grik (The Hand)
Level: 11 (1st Evolution)
Rank: F-Rank (Peak)
Stats: STR: 7, AGI: 8, STA: 8, INT: 7, PER: 7
Key Skills: [Primitive-Crafting (Lvl 3)], [Spear-Fighting (Basic) Lvl 2].
Equipment: [Chitin-Edged Bone Spear (Common)].
The Tribe (The Klik-Kin):
Count: 29 Goblins.
Average Level: Lvl 5. Lowest Level: Lvl 4.
Buffs: [Tribe Skill: Obedience (Lvl 1)], [Tribe Skill: Courage (Lvl 1)].
The silence that followed the Formians' retreat was thick, heavy, and reeked.
The Great Cavern, The Barricade, was a charnel house. The air hung thick with the metallic tang of blue Formian blood, the greasy stench of burned tar and chitin, the sharp chemical bite of sulfur and acid, and the underlying, ever-present goblin-funk.
Klik stood amidst the carnage, his Lvl 15 body a grotesque monument to pain and willpower. His raw-pink skin, visible around the edges of his fused-on black armor, steamed faintly in the residual heat. His 36 Intelligence surveyed his kingdom, tallying the cost and the spoils.
Two dead goblins – one ripped apart, one dissolved. A minor loss, by goblin standards.
Bruk, his Guard, was crippled, but alive and leveled. A net gain.
Snarl, his Hunter, was Evolved. A massive gain.
His tribe, though terrified, had held. They had fought. They had leveled. Another gain.
And the loot…
Ten Formian corpses littered the kill-zone, tangled in caltrops, fused with tar, buried under rubble. Ten sets of iron-tipped spears. Ten sets of [Formian Plate-Armor (Common)]. Ten potential sources of chitin, meat, and information.
This was not just survival. This was profit.
"Even a broken pot," his 36 INT supplied, the Cameroonian proverb finding grim purchase, "can still hold water… or in this case, valuable ant-guts."
He hobbled towards the breach, his mace clicking on the stone. The tribe, huddled by the smoldering bonfire, watched him with wide, yellow, terrified-but-awed eyes. Their new [Courage] skill warred with their ingrained [Cowardice], creating a strange, twitchy energy.
"GRIK!" Klik rasped, his acid-burned throat protesting.
The Lvl 11 King's-Hand scrambled forward, spear held high. "KING-GOD!"
Klik pointed with his mace at the ten corpses. "LOOT."
He tapped his own fused-on armor. "ARMOR."
He tapped the iron head of his mace. "METAL."
He mimed eating. "…MEAT?" He wasn't sure about that last one. Ants weren't exactly traditional goblin cuisine.
Grik's 7 INT grasped the core concepts. Take. Stuff. From. Dead. Ants.
"YES, KING-GOD!" Grik yelled, puffing out his chest. He turned to the tribe, who were eyeing the corpses with a mixture of fear and hunger. "KLIK-GOD COMMANDS! TAKE! STRONG-SKIN! SHINY-STICKS! FOR… FOR… THE TRIBE!"
The goblins surged forward, their new [Courage] overriding their fear. They descended upon the Formian corpses like starving locusts, their [Shoddy-Shivs] and claws tearing at the wreckage.
It was chaos. Grik screamed orders, smacked heads, and tried to impose some semblance of order.
Klik watched, his 31 Perception analyzing the process. This was valuable. This was world-building in real-time.
He focused on one corpse, activating his [Appraisal (Common) Lvl 2].
[Scanning [Formian Skirmisher (Corpse)]...]
[Loot Table Detected...]
[Iron-Tipped Spear (Common)] (100%)
[Formian Plate-Armor (Common - Damaged)] (100%) (Note: Armor integrity reduced by fire/bludgeoning/acid.)
[Formian Chitin (Common)] x 3-5 (80%) (Note: Can be harvested via [Primitive-Skinning].)
[Formian Meat (Tainted - Acid)] x 2-4 (60%) (Warning: Contains formic acid. Requires specialized cooking or [Toxin Resistance] to consume safely.)
[Formian Pheromone Gland (Poor - Damaged)] (30%) (Note: Complex organ. Potential alchemical uses? Requires [Analyze Structure] for details.)
[Woven-Chitin Net (Common - Damaged)] (20%) (Note: Intricate weaving. Requires repair.)
His 36 INT absorbed the data.
Iron. Confirmed. Enough for his Forge Quest.
Armor. Damaged, but Common-grade. Better than anything his tribe could make.
Chitin. A new material source.
Meat. Tainted. Dangerous. He made a mental note to warn the cooks. No raw ant-meat.
Gland. Interesting. He'd need to study that later.
Net. Damaged, but repairable? He looked at the [Formian-Technology-Schematic (Woven-Chitin)] he had received as a quest reward. Yes. This was the key.
The looting was a frenzy. Goblins fought over spears. They struggled to remove the heavy, segmented armor. The [Skinners] hacked away, trying to harvest the chitin and meat.
Klik directed them, his commands sharp, minimal, logical.
"SPEARS... HERE!"
"ARMOR... HERE!"
"MEAT... COOKS! BURN IT WELL!"
"CHITIN... GRIK! WORKSHOP!"
Slowly, agonizingly slowly, order emerged from the chaos. Piles of loot formed near the bonfire. The corpses were stripped bare, leaving only blue-blooded, mangled husks.
Klik retrieved the [Formian-Technology-Schematic (Woven-Chitin)] from his System inventory. It materialized in his hand as a small, smooth, chitinous tablet, etched with intricate, alien diagrams.
He focused. His 36 INT, augmented by his Lvl 10 Class skills, interfaced with it.
[Analyzing Schematic...]
[Formian Technology: [Woven-Chitin Fiber Production (Basic)]!]
[Allows the user to process [Raw Chitin (Common)] into [Chitin-Fiber Strands (Common)] using [Acidic Reagents] and [Heat].]
[Allows the crafting of [Woven-Chitin Rope (Common)], [Woven-Chitin Net (Common)], and [Woven-Chitin Cloth (Poor)]!]
[New Crafting Recipes Unlocked!]
Jackpot.
He could make the nets. He could make rope stronger than fungus-vine. He could make cloth… maybe even bags or crude armor-padding?
This changed things. He looked at Grik's pathetic workshop, churning out [Junk].
No more.
"GRIK!"
The Lvl 11 King's-Hand scurried over, covered in blue ant-blood.
Klik showed him the tablet. Grik stared, his 7 INT utterly baffled by the alien script.
Klik didn't explain. He showed.
He took a piece of [Formian Chitin (Common)]. He took a drop of his own[Acid Spit] (a tiny amount, carefully controlled). He held it near the fire.
He worked the chitin, his fingersguided by the schematic.
It softened. It stretched. He pulled a single, thin, incredibly strong[Chitin-Fiber Strand].
Grik gasped.
"LEARN," Klik hissed, handing Grik the tablet. "MAKE. ROPE. NETS."
Grik clutched the tablet like a holy relic. He didn'tunderstand it. But Klik-Goddid. Grik wouldlearn.
[Subject [Grik] is attempting to learn from [Schematic]... INT Check (7) vs Difficulty (15)... FAILED!]
[...Subject [Grik] gains +1% Proficiency towards [Advanced-Crafting]!]
It would take time. But it was a start.
Part 4: The Forge Begins
With the lootingunderway, Klik turned his attention to hisQuest. [The Logic of Creation].
He neededClay. He needed[Tar-Cap Fungus]. He needed[Iron Ore].
He foundSnarl.
She wasdifferent.
Her Lvl 3 (E-Rank)body was leaner, longer-limbed. Her grey-greenskinblendedperfectly with the shadows. Her new[Scent-Hunter (E-Rank)]skill made her constantlysniff the air, her headtwitching, her new, longersnoutprocessing a world of smells the otherscouldn'timagine.
She was a predator.
"Hunt-Master," Klik rasped.
Snarl bowed, her movementsfluid, silent. "King-God."
"TASK."
He explained. Clay. Tar-Fungus. He drewcrudemaps in the ash with his mace-handle, his 36 INT translating his [Analyze Structure]knowledge into goblin-terms.
"[Fungal-Caverns]. Thistunnel. Wetwall. Soft-stone. DIG."
He pointedanotherway. "Sticky-black-shroom. Bring. LOTS."
Snarl sniffed the map. She understood. Her newbrainprocessedscent-dataspatially.
"Yes, King-God," she hissed, her voicelower, moreguttural than before. "Snarl… finds."
She gathered her hunting-party—now sixhardenedLvl 5-6goblinsarmed with [Chitin-Spears]. They vanishedinto the newtunnel.
Klik turned to the [Iron Ore]. Objective 2.
He limpedinto the [Fungal-Caverns]himself, followingSnarl'sscent-trail.
His new[Analyze Structure]skillwaskey.
He scanned the walls.
[Analyzing... [Limestone (Common)]... [Quartz Vein (Trace)]...]
Deeper.
[Analyzing... [Damp Shale (Poor)]... [Water-Seepage]...]
Deeper.
He found it. A dark, reddish-brownstreak in the stone, hiddenbehind a patch of [Glow-Cap Shrooms].
"[Analyze Structure]!"
[Scanning... Target: [Reddish-Vein]...]
[Analysis: [Mineral Vein (Iron - Poor)] Detected!]
[Composition: Hematite (Low-Grade). Requires significantheat to smelt.]
[Yield: Estimated 15-20 units of [Iron Ore (Poor)] per cubic meter.]
Jackpot.
He neededtools. He couldn'tmine with his bare hands.
He returned to the Barricade.
He grabbedGrik.
"PICKS!" he roared, showingGrik his [Iron-Sharded Mace]. "MAKE! STRONG! LIKE THIS! FOR... ROCK!"
Grik, fueled by EXP and Klik-God'sfavor, grabbed his bestcrafters. They beganworking with the [Iron Fragments]harvested from the Formianspears.
[Subject [Grik] is attempting [Weapon-Crafting]... SUCCESS!]
[You have created a [Crude Iron-Pickaxe (Poor)]!]
It was ugly. It was heavy. It wouldwork.
Klik tookthreepickaxes. He tookfourLvl 5goblins (the strongestnon-elites).
He led them back to the [Iron Vein].
"DIG!"
The mining-operationbegan. It was back-breaking. It was slow.
WHACK!...chip...WHACK!...chip...
But slowly, reddish-brownchunks of [Iron Ore (Poor)]began to pile up.
(2/10 Ore Harvested).
Part 5: The Forge Takes Shape
Klik returned to the Barricade, leaving the minerstowork.
Snarlhadreturned.
She broughtbackbasketsheavy with wet, grey[Clay (Common)].
She broughtbacksacksdripping with black, oily, stinking[Tar-Cap Fungus (Poor)].
All the materialswerehere. Objective 1: [Build a Furnace].
He directed the construction.
Near the Great Bonfire (for heat), he had the tribebuild a small, U-shapedstructure out of rocks and [Clay].
He lined it thickly with more[Clay].
He left an opening at the bottom.
Now... the [Bellows].
He tooktwolarge[Giant Cave-Rat Hides]. He tooktwohollowed-out[Cave-Lizard Femurs] (for nozzles). He took[Cured Leather Scaps].
His [Junk-Tinker (Lvl 1)]skillflared.
He stitched, he sealed, he craftedhandles.
[Junk-Tinker (Lvl 1) Check (Int 36) vs. Difficulty (10)... CRITICAL SUCCESS!]
[You have created a [Double-Lung Bellows (Common)]!]
It was ugly, but functional.
Finally... the [Fungal-Charcoal].
He built a small, sealed[Clay-Kiln (Junk)]. He packed it with the [Tar-Cap Fungus]. He buried it in the hot embers of the Great Bonfire.
He waited. An hour.
He carefullydug it out. He cracked it open.
Notash. Notgoo.
Inside were hard, black, porouschunks of [Fungal-Coke (Poor)]. It smelled of sulfur and tar.
[You have discovered a new Resource: [Fungal-Coke (Poor)]!]
[+10% EXP to [Alchemist-Scavenger] Path if chosen!]
He hadit.
He loaded the [Primitive-Furnace] with the [Fungal-Coke]. He lit it with an ember.
He aimed the [Double-Lung Bellows]into the bottom-opening.
He signaledtwoLvl 4goblins. "PUMP!"
They pumped. WHOOSH! WHOOSH! WHOOSH!
The [Fungal-Coke]glowed. Brighter. Hotter.
A fierce, white-hotheatbegan to radiate from the furnace.
[Objective 1: [Build a Furnace]... COMPLETE!]
Part 6: The First Ingot and the Shadow
The minersreturned, haulingbaskets of [Iron Ore (Poor)].
(12/10 Ore Harvested).
[Objective 2: [Smelt Ore]... COMPLETE!]
Now... the finalstep. Objective 3: [Forge an Ingot].
Klik took the ore. He crushed it with his mace.
He fed the powderinto the roaring, white-hot[Primitive-Furnace].
He directed the Bellows-Team. "HARDER!"
WHOOSH-WHOOSH-WHOOSH!
The furnaceroared like a dragon.
The oreglowed. It melted. It slumped into a small, slaggy, cherry-redlump at the bottom.
He used a long[Iron-Spear]hehadappropriated to rakeout the slag.
He thenusedtwoflatstones (as tongs) to carefullylift the glowing, softlump of metal.
He dropped it onto a flatgranitestone (his anvil).
He raised his [Iron-Sharded Mace].
And he began to hammer.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
The soundechoedthrough the cavern.
It was the sound of creation. The sound of progress.
He folded the metal. He hammered it. He reheated it. He hammered it again.
His 36 INT knew the process from a thousandbooks. His [Weapon-Tinker]skillguided his crippledarms.
Slowly, painfully, the slaggy-lumptook shape.
It became a small, rough, pitted, but solid... bar.
[Objective 3: [Forge an Ingot]... COMPLETE!]
[You have forged your first [Iron Ingot (Common - Low)]!]
[QUEST: "The Logic of Creation"... COMPLETE!]
[You have mastered the Logic of Fire and Stone. You are no longerjust a Tinker. You are a Creator.]
[REWARDS ISSUED!]
1) [CLASS EVOLUTION IS NOW AVAILABLE!]
CHOOSE YOUR E-RANK CLASS:
[Artisan-Tinker (E-Rank)]:Focuses onCraftingandBuilding. UnlocksAdvanced-RecipesandMaterial-Refinement.
[Trap-Master (E-Rank)]:Focuses onTrapsandAmbushes. UnlocksComplex-TrapsandEnvironmental-Manipulation.
[Alchemist-Scavenger (E-Rank)]:Focuses onPotions, Poisons, andChemical-Reactions. UnlocksBasic-AlchemyandComponent-Extraction.
2) [Class Lvl 10 Cap] REMOVED!
3) +2 Intelligence, +2 Perception (Permanent)!
His statssoared.
Intelligence: 38.
Perception: 34.
He looked at the choices.
Artisan? Trap-Master? Alchemist?
His 38 INT weighed them.
Trapsweregood. Butreactive.
Alchemywaspowerful. Butresource-intensive.
Artisan… Artisanwascreation. It wasbuilding. It wasarminghistribe. It wasprogress.
He CHOSE.
[Class [Artisan-Tinker (E-Rank)] selected!]
[You are now a Lvl 10 [Artisan-Tinker]!]
[New Skills Unlocked: [Advanced-Refinement (Lvl 1)], [Basic-Smithing (Lvl 1)], [Basic-Construction (Lvl 1)]!]
A wave of pure, creativepowerwashedover him.
He felt... complete.
He looked at the [Iron Ingot]. He looked at his [Forge].
He wouldarm his tribe. He wouldrebuild his Barricade. He wouldmake this tombinto a fortress.
He wasKlik. The Artisan-King.
He raised his mace to beginagain...
…scrape… click-click-CLICK…
The soundcamefrom the Main Tunnel.
Rightoutside the Barricade.
Bruk roared a warning.
Klik hobbled to the peep-hole.
He lookedout.
The Formianswereback.
Nottwenty.
Fifty.
FiftySkirmishers.
And... somethingelse.
Bigger.
Standingbehindthem.
Twice the size. Covered in thicker, blackerarmor. Wieldingnot a spear, but twomassive, serrated[Chitin-Swords].
Its antennaetwitched. Its mandiblesclicked with cold, calculatingintelligence.
Klik [Appraised] it.
Race: Formian Legionnaire (Warrior-Caste)
Level: 25
Rank: E-Rank (Mid)
Title: [Hive-Centurion]
State: Leading Assault, Calculating
INT: 15
Klik's bloodturned to ice.
Lvl 25. E-Rank (Mid). 15 INT.
This wasn't a raid.
This wasn't a siege.
This was an extermination.
The Centurionraisedonesword.
Click-chitter-THRA!
(Translation: "...TheQueenisdispleased. Leavenonealive. BURNTHENEST...*")
The Formianarmycharged the Barricade.
And Klik... Klikclutched the [Volcanic Gastropod Core].
His Forgewouldhave to wait.
It wastimeforwar.