Chapter 4: Equipment
"You gotta be kidding me!" Gabe shouted, thoroughly disgusted. Why could nothing in the world behave as it should!?
The pixie sighed from the branch she'd taken to reclining on. "What is it now?" she asked.
Frustrated Gabe declared, "This damn bag doesn't obey the laws of physics!" He currently had 27inches of his arm buried in Ive's travel pack with room to wiggle his fingers. What was disconcerting was the bag only stood 17inches tall.
"It's called a bag of holding, Gabriel," the pixie explained sounding exasperated, "Magic makes the interior larger to accommodate more items without adding weight."
One of the first things he decided to do was figure out what supplies he had available. It would've been reckless to trudge off into the wilderness otherwise. "Okay, but how does it work?" Gabe demanded, grasping at empty space, yet somehow knowing there was something to grab.
"Reach in, focus on what you want, and pull it out," the pixie explained. By now her condescending tone was all-to-familiar.
"That simple huh?" Gabe growled still not feeling anything.
"Yep," she chirped looking down from her perch with a smirk, "unless you're a moron who can't focus."
Presumptuous little shit…
Gabe chose to ignore the jab at his intelligence in favor of pulling out supplies. Low and behold the moment he concentrated on 'supplies and equipment' his hands felt solid matter. After pulling out a sleeping mat, food rations, waterskin, 100ft of rope, a medical kit, and tinderbox he realized there was still plenty of gear to go. Going further he pulled out a lantern, candles, hammer, climbing pitons, two rolls of twine, a pouch of ball bearings, and a bag of caltrops. Oh, but wait…there's more! There was also a rolled-up bit of canvas he assumed was to act as a tent with stakes, a hammer, a telescope, a miniature magnifying glass, two bells, a bladder of oil, a block and tackle, a handmade journal with accompanying writing tools, and a panpipe.
Jesus the guy packed everything but the kitchen sink in here! Normally, this shit would weigh more than my full combat rig plus a max weight rucksack. Gabe couldn't help but think about all the troops who'd kill for a pack just like it.
Eyeballing the arrayed equipment, he did his best to commit it to memory. He wasn't sure when he'd use most of it, but that didn't mean it was worthless. Normally Gabe refused to tote anything extra in the field. Ounces lead to pounds and pounds lead to pain, but seeing as the bag negated the weight, he'd take the extra gear.
The pixie insisted that Ivellios never packed anything useless. Gabe would've agreed if he knew what half the equipment did. Other then the tunic and breeches he wore he had two spares of each. The boots had wings cross-stitched into them and were surprisingly light yet durable. Ive seemed to prefer the padded gambeson and cuisses as armor. Rune etched splint mail bracers and greaves coupled with full steel elbow and knee cops covered the extremities. In terms of weaponry, Ive carried a very ornate two-handed arming sword paired with a small round shield.
Gabe wasn't an expert on medieval arms and armor, but just looking at the equipment he got a sense of function combined with practicality. All of it had seen heavy use but it looked as if its care had recently fallen by the wayside.
No bow? In almost every depiction Gabe had seen of elves, they'd always filled the role of archer or scout. There speed, dexterity, and keen senses made them ideal for the job… Did I just make an assumption based on race? Can an elf be racist? Gabe had to stifle the laughter that threatened to turn hysteric. He'd barely just managed to get a handle on his anxiety. Laughing uncontrollably would solve nothing. Gabe distracted himself by going through his-Ive's supplies.
Then there was the equipment Gabe hadn't a clue about. A ruby, emerald, and sapphire embedded in his left gauntlet, while crimson-red, ice-blue, and sun-yellow stones were ensconced in his right. The pixie referred to them as mage stones, and Ive used them in place of magic. She explained that Darahl's Flame, the ruby, utilized fire magic that didn't harm its user. She then stated the emerald was Aerdie's Wind. It helped the user teleport short distances. Finally, Hanali's Love, the sapphire granted a shield of protection.
"But they can only be used once a day so be frugal," she cautioned.
"Once a day?" he asked still confused about how Torel's magic worked. "Why's that?"
Rolling her eyes, the pixie explained that magic, or mana, flowed through all things. Magic-users would normally poor their own energy into them to be used later. Since Ive wasn't a mage it took the stones a whole day just to absorb the mana from their surroundings. "And before you get yourself killed," she indicated the other three stones in his right gauntlet, "These stones magically imbue an item with burning, freezing, or radiant energy. But-"
"-But can only be used once a day, I get it." Annoyed Gabe wondered why a tiny pixie could use spells, heal, and fly, while he could only rely on mage stones once a day? What kind of superficial magic system does this world have? Thoughts for another time, Gabe continued his analysis. "So, theoretically I could enchant my sword with burning energy, right?"
"Eh…sure," the pixie shrugged, "Ive just enchanted arrows or sling stones." Pointing at the sword in question she added. "Most of Ive's gear is already blessed or enchanted."
"Really?" Gabe said impressed. He wondered how the elf had come into possession of so many interesting items. Was he some type adventurer?
Oh, I get it now. Ivellios had no affinity for magic. Since he couldn't use magic, he supplemented his skills with certain items. Gabe was starting to warm up to the elf's mindset.
Still leery about the world's magic system Gabe opted to test the stones later, lest he burns down the forest. The pixie also explained the magnifying glass was the 'Gem of seeing' allowing the user to see things hidden by magic. Might as well call'em x-ray specs.
"So, what's this?" In a liberal sense, it resembled a flare gun, but with a hair-trigger. He'd barely touched it when a four-handed claw shot out with the velocity of a bullet. It clamped on a nearby tree trunk and stuck fast. An internal mechanism whirred to life instantly retracting the chain. Everything happened so fast Gabe was yanked off his feet before releasing the handle.
The pixie was clutching her middle and laughing hysterically. "Oh, by the feywild that was great!" she jeered as Gabe lifted himself out of the dirt. "Do it again! Do it again!"
Once more Gabe disregarded her. Blushing he retrieved the "grappling hook" as he christened it and set it down next to the pack. Where the hell would Ivellios get something like that? It's not something he'd seen in any fantasy or medieval flick. He preferred it over the magic items, though. Gabe continued with his inventory. If I could figure out how it works, I'd be like batman with that thing!
While the armor and gear looked insanely functional, the magic of this world resembled something out of a videogame. In his Battalion a PFC Wilson and SPC Woodrow had been heavily invested in things like World of Warcraft, Magic the Gathering, and Tabletop RPGs. At the time Gabe never saw the point, preferring hobbies with a bit more practical application. The irony was not lost on him.
They invited you to participate, but nooooo! You'd rather go to the gun range and focus on your career. How's that working out for you, dumbass? Gabe had prided himself in cultivating useful skills: vehicle maintenance, gunsmithing, and fabrication. The older he got the more he realized knowledge trumped physicality. Unfortunately, in this world, it didn't matter if Gabe could kick start a truck if a spell blasted him out of his shoes. The only reason he knew anything about the armor and weapons was from movies and books.
Well, I guess I better start figuring this world out. Gabe's only other options were to carry on like a lost moron and get killed or curl up and cry himself to death. After dying once already, he refused to repeat the process. As a Gunnery Sergeant from one of his dad's favorite movies said, 'Improvise, overcome, adapt.'
"It's okay, you were trained for this…" he mumbled organizing the supplies back into the pack.
"Training you say?" the pixie asked while lazing about on a nearby tree branch. She'd been kind enough to fill him in on certain details concerning the equipment but had otherwise kept to herself.
"Yeah," he said, "I'm in the Army on my world." Gabe felt that same mixture of pride and bashfulness when he talked about his job with anyone other than servicemembers. Civilians just didn't understand, and he doubted a two-foot pixie would either.
"Ah so you're a soldier," she exclaimed hanging by her knees, "Ive was too. A knight he was. Were you a knight?"
Her enthusiasm made him feel even more self-conscious. "Umm…no. I'm a Sergeant."
"Oh…" she actually sounded disappointed, "You were a Sergeant at Arms?"
If that was this world's equivalent than… "Yeah, I suppose."
Sighing she swung back up to lay across the branch. "A common soldier then," she stated dismissively.
Gabe refrained from throwing something at her. He was a Forward Observer, damn it! There wasn't anything common about calling for fire. What kind of common soldier had mortars, field artillery, naval gunfire, and close air support at his beck and call? And he did all that slumming it with infantry platoons through the swamps of Fort Polk and Stewart!
Damn it, that's right. Back in medieval times, troops were levied from the middle and lower classes. Professional troops either came from the nobility or were hired mercenaries. The latter wasn't well regarded either. Fuck, in this world, grunt work was probably looked down on. The warrior class, like knights, must garner more respect because of their status. Gabe had to get a handle on the political situation soonest if he hoped to survive long enough to get home.
"At least you have some training," the pixie added flicking an acorn down at him.
"Yeah…training…" Sure, he'd done plenty of field exercises, so roughing it in the wilderness wasn't an issue. He was also a combat veteran with two deployments overseas. Since the military went digital a vast majority of his "training" consisted of online courses and figuring out the new tech. But all that amounted to nothing! No one could've possibly trained him for a situation like this! Hell, even my rifle qualifications are worth fuck-all at this point!
SERE (Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape) training would've been useful if it hadn't all been online. The mandatory Soldier Structured Development (SSD1) was now officially a colossal waste of time as well. All he had to rely on was field experience. S'okay, Gabe. I just need to take this one step at a time. You've been hunting, fishing, and camping. That gives you a good place to start.
The first step had been to assess his available supplies. Next was to locate a road or trail that might lead him to a town or settlement. Once there he could get the lay of the land; figuratively and literally.
After he was all packed up, Gabe looked up at the pixie. The novelty of her wings and green skin had worn off. It helped she was more annoying that fantastical otherwise he might never have humanized her. "There a road nearby?"
She looked down at him with an arched eyebrow before pointing in a general direction. Nodding his thanks, he slung the pack. The action reminded him of all the hikes and ruck marches he'd been on. Though the pixie had told him weight wouldn't be an issue, he'd anticipated it instinctively. Much to the pixie's amusement, the result had him hobbling about trying to keep his balance. Once he came to terms with his center of gravity, Gabe orienting himself.
The forest around them was as alien to him the rest of the world. On the surface, it resembled every other coniferous forest he'd encountered on Earth. In its depths hid dangers and other strange tidings, he knew nothing about. Beyond the clearing, he'd awakened in, was a world of mystery and magic, but somewhere out there was a means for him to get home.
There just has to be. God help me if I'm stuck as one of Santa's helpers with Tinkerbell as my guide.
Fortifying himself Gabe started walking into the unknown.
The pixie fluttered down from the branch to perch on the top of his pack. Even her weight amounted to nothing. "Umm… Gabriel?" He grunted by way acknowledgment. He had to focus lest he twists an ankle on a root or hole. "Why're you walking?"
What kinda question is that? "How else am I supposed to get where I'm going?" he retorted stepping over a fallen log.
"Well forgive me for preventing you from getting exercise," she said sarcastically, "But you could just ride your horse."