BS: Okay, short chapter unfortunately, but since its not that late and I have nothing to do tomorrow, there should be quite a few updates. Not many over the weekend I'm afraid as family is coming over, but I'll try to make up for it during the week. Anyways, you guys finally get to meet Mc Hot Stuff (I suggest looking up Chris Hemsworth, then add my description to him to fully understand what I'm going for) and to be honest it's about to get pretty epic in roughly two or more chapters and on. So don't forget to review to help keep me going, and let me know your thoughts so I can add some more stuff in you'd guys like to see. Also I don't own Far Cry 3 or any recognizable characters, just Chelsea Lidell and *cough*nolweaver*cough*.

SharpAngels: Yeah, that'd be pretty sick if you would beta this. Hopefully not when I had twenty something chapter already posted like a certain fanfic I kinda gave up, but it still would be pretty boss if you would. And yeah, Chelsea can be a bit of a der-da-der, but she was starving and the berry bush looked pretty good in her opinion. Plus the boar wasnt keeling over so she figure "eh, why not, what's the worst that could happen?" yeah, she finds out this chapter what happens. Anyway, also I know what my signature looks like, but I don't really care at this point so I'm just going with it haha.:)

Gamergirl9: Yeah, the survival part is mostly over and its getting more to the BA fighting at this point. I don't think I could handle anymore survival writing to be honest.

Chapter Six: Nol Weaver

I was in Hell. There was no other explanation for the excruciating pain I was feeling. My thigh and arm burned as if someone was slowly tearing it open, my stomach being sliced open by razors and the almost constant hurling I had most likely been doing was barely able to help the situation.
All through this though, the strangest thing was every time I regained a shred of consciousness back I only got a few glimpses of where I was. It was a wood room, only lit by a swaying light bulb in the middle of the room attached to a rickety ceiling fan which thankfully cooled the room a bit. I heard static a few times, and I could only guess it was from the bulky yellow and black radio on top of the table across the room. It sat under a boarded up window that only let a few streams of light in, and other than the table and a wooden chair pulled up next to the bed I was on, there was no other furniture.
Only once was I awake enough to remember someone coming into the room. All I could really make out was that the toned figure was male and had light russet skin except on his face. From the top right side of his forehead, all the way down his eye and to the bottom of his jaw was a pale jagged scar, and the closer he got I noticed a matching one reaching from right side of his bottom lip to his chin. I felt that his large hands were slightly calloused yet careful as he replaced a cold cloth to my burning forehead, and before I passed out again I got a glimpse of his dark blue eyes.
I had no clue how much time passed. It could have been hours, or even days before the pain had died down and I found myself fully waking up. Most of my memories were foggy, but I still recognized the room as I barely sat up, even then swaying a bit as I clutched my forehead from the ache. I spotted the linen bandaging on my arm, and I glanced at my leg to see the same material skillfully wrapped around my thigh over my pant leg. I felt sweaty and disgusting as my hair and clothes clung to any nearby skin which was caked with dirt, and when I held my hand up it was pathetically shaky. My stomach gave a pitiful throb out of soreness, and a rancid taste was back in my mouth much like before.
"Feeling better?" I heard someone ask from the doorway. My gaze snapped up and I could only nod at the somehow recognizable stranger. It was hard to form a coherent sentence, and the guy seemed to understand that as he slowly walked into the room. "Marroberries tend to have quite a nasty effect when eaten in large amounts." He told me with a small friendly smile, his bright white teeth contrasting with his darker skin. I smiled a bit back though it turned into a grimace when my forehead gave another throb.
"Eating strange plants wasn't one of my smartest ideas." I croaked, the guy chuckling as he held out a steaming cup towards me.
"Even some islanders make the mistake of eating to much sometimes. Don't be to hard on yourself. Now drink up, it'll help with...everything." He summed up and I hesitantly took the cup from him. The guy took a seat in the wooden chair besides me, as I looked at the scentless cloudy green liquid a moment before gulping it down.
I made a face and was glad I took it all at once since I probably would have spit it across the room had I not. "Tastes like shit, but it'll get you healed up faster so you can help your friends." He told me and I looked over at him, obviously confused.
"How did you..?" I trailed off and he smirked.
"At first I thought you were 'Snow White', the American prisoner who escaped Vaas' camp, but while you were held up here bases were still being taken down so that ruled you out." He explained.
"Escaped? That must have been Grant..." I trailed off mainly to myself. If Grant was going around taking down bases, he must be looking for the others. I looked back up at the guy, pausing for a moment before asking "Who are you exactly?"
"Nol Weaver." He introduced.
"Chelsea Lidell." I replied quietly. "And who's Vaas?" I questioned and Nol sighed, leaning forward a bit, resting his forearms on his knees as he explained.
"Vaas Montenegro, leader of the pirates and probably the most insane guy you'll ever meet. It's mostly Hoyt Volker you have to worry about, he's Vaas' boss and basically the one that took his mind away from him. I'd leave Snow White to handle them, since you look like you've never held a gun in your life." Nol commented, motioning towards me to emphasis.
"Why do you say that?" I asked and he glanced at my chest.
"The pretty little ring on your neck gave it away." My hand instantly went to the object held by the thick chain and I gently ran my fingers over it thoughtfully.
"Has anyone else been found?" I asked.

Nol looked over at the radio "Not yet. Snow White is the only thing the pirates have been talking about, and I doubt anyone knows where you are."

"So I'm safe here." It was more of a statement than a question and Nol looked over at me, hesitating a moment as he sighed.
"Look, as soon as you're healed enough to move, I'm dropping you off at Amanaki Village. It's basically the Rakyat's main base and filled with villagers. You'll be safer there." He explained.
I scoffed. "I don't even know who the Rakyat are, or how you know all this stuff."
"Their the natives, made this island their home before the pirates invaded. Your friend is working with them, and if you show up someone will call them in to get you." He countered.
"That still doesn't explain how you know all this." I rose and eyebrow.
Nol waited a moment before holding out his forearm to me, which I noticed was covered in black tattoos. Mostly shark, spider, and boar symbols. "I was a mercenary before the Rakyat took me in-even gave me some ink to prove I was with them, that I could be trusted."
"My fiance is out there, I can't just sit around and wait to find out if he's dead or not." I was basically pleading at this point. It was clear Nol was trained in the weapons department, and I doubted these Rakyat people would be so willing to teach me like Nol might.
Nol rubbed a hand down his face, muttering something to himself under his breath before finally answering me. "If you really want to help save your friends, you'll need to learn how to fight and how to handle a weapon."
"Fine. I'll do whatever it takes." I saw his lips twitch up a bit, but he tried to stay serious.
"As soon as you're up for it we can start." He added.
"I'm ready now." I tried to stand, only for Nol to push me back down by my shoulder.
"Not when you think you're ready." He said a bit more slowly, getting up and starting to leave the room.
"Hey Nol?" I called after him, the older man turning in the doorway to look at me. "For the record, I used to be in archery." I muttered, and he smirked, shaking his head in amusement before he disappeared through the door, leaving me to rest in peace.