Bloody Trek
I managed to catch a ride, did the whole thumbs up thing and everything.
To say that I've begun to tire of my repeated games of charades that I have to play in order to communicate with people would be an understatement. It infuriates me in the most base and visceral sense, who could've predicted that being forced to play telephone every time you wanted to speak would drive a man insane. Not me, and definitely not yet.
After having a brief hushed conversation with his wife, the older man waved me over. Whilst I approached he extended his hand and voiced what I gathered to be his name, times like these made me loathe the fact I lacked a strong grip over local language. It was unfortunate that he assumed incorrectly of me, but I still returned his greeting with one of my own. A week here with barely any progress toward understanding anything, if not for my gratefulness I'd be raging by now from my internal frustration boiling just below the surface.
Between the language barrier and figuring out magic, the attack on my brain cells have left me scarred, deformed, and retarded.
I dumped my pack near the front of the cart in one of the corners leaning it against the wall, fencing the entirety of the platform that stored everything the family was transporting from slipping off whilst it moved. Near the back, where a bunch of their belongings seemed to lie beside stuffed sacks of wheat, the man's wife sat with who appeared to be their children. Her husband pointed her out to me, and in combination pointed out the twins they seemed to have, I assumed since neither sibling looked to be that much older than the other. Curious eyes dotting their faces, and I returned their intrigue into me with a small friendly wave of my own.
That's how it went more or less.
Pointedly ignoring how the mother stared me down even given the distance between us, I'd rather not test my limits with her. Even turning around to sit my sixth sense could still feel her eyes piercing the back of my skull, and while I'm not sure exactly what it is that I'd done to warrant such attention. I don't think I wanted to find out. The mother's marred visage was stuck in my mind, a line cutting into her face from one of her eyes to the lower end of her ear.
My mother would have my ass if she knew that I was making a lady uncomfortable by staring. So joined her husband up front, and tried to let the time pass by.
Tumbling down the path, the repetitive motions from the horse drawn cart brought me some peace of mind. My sense scattered and instead focused on the world around me. The trees within the forest that we were traveling, once barren plants shone signs of restoration. Bare branches held small budding leaves, silver clouds hung from the sky above us, though not yet dark enough to be considered gray. While the roads I'd been passing all seemed to share the same shade of light brown to the dirt, anywhere else in the woods hosted rich black soil. Every step would lead me to finding a mushy mess left over from the last winter, entire stretches of absolutely covered with old leaves. Sometimes I'd spot the odd squirrel or bird scavenging for worms all throughout the forest floor; The soft earth left over from the snow left by winter certainly made digging holes leave my campfires far easier.
A precaution I took for sporadic wind.
Flora here was too far into recovering for me to be careless, and the fauna here might also have a bone to pick with me were I to allow a forest fire to ruin their home. I'd certainly miss the chirping of the birds, and now that I think about them. . .
I haven't heard from them in a while.
You can't count on your 6th sense, and I never learned how it worked in the first place. My new 7th sense that always decided to pop up whenever I used magic was of far much more interest to me these days. Even so, ignoring common sense led me to almost getting murdered in a burning village so when a feeling of being watched made it all the way to my brain.
I listened this time.
Hearing well that something was wrong, my body went into overdrive, like a cat tensing up before a pounce. Except that I didn't know where the moose was yet, and with my luck I was bound to get shanked if that didn't change soon. Despite popular belief, I am not a masochist. Unless liking exercise makes me one.
I don't know if it works like that, but I've learned it's best to cover my bases.
God, it's been like a full minute since it started. I was hoping that this feeling was just me going stir crazy, it has been awhile since I've driven my car after all. While it is a stretch, I'd really prefer an overreaction as opposed to my steadily increasing paranoia. Most of my attention was on the road ahead of us, trying to spot if it was simply because of something that we were approaching. A town maybe?
I almost missed the signs, a piece of torn cloth stuck hanging off of a bush. Glints of something hidden behind the trees closest to the road, flashing at the right moment to notice them given such a distance so far ahead of us. All of it warranting my attention, but nothing had quite clicked in my head to set me off just yet. That is, before I took a harder look to scan the road itself.
Someone's dug a ditch.
At first I thought the dip in the road ahead was just a natural feature. We had been on a slight hill this entire time, and seeing the incline ramp downward was simply one such detail you'd anticipate. There were marks showing that this path was well traveled, deep grooves in the dirt from the wheels of past carts to come this way before us. The 'ditch' though was a sudden departure from the rest of the trail, with those very markings suddenly absent for a certain stretch of ground. A drastic change from well worn marks on the path from other carts that disappeared and then for no reason whatsoever comes back in force after that portion of the road. I could nearly imagine the indentations that a cart normally would've left on such a path, and to simply see it pop up again later with no outstanding reason to be, just, felt off to me.
I'd found my aberration.
I held out my hand in front of the driver, making him pull up on the reins to the horse bringing the cart to an abrupt stop. I don't really have a name for him do I? How about Bob, the placeholder name should have to do for now. 'Bob' gave me a startled look, a hint of suspicion ingrained upon his squinted eyes when he turned to face me. There was some muttering from behind us coming from his family as the cart came to a halt. Wish I could have explained myself better given the situation.
Before Bob could ask the question I knew was waiting on the tip of his tongue, a group of men burst out of the treeline onto the road a ways ahead from us. His face took on a sense of recognition as I pointed them out to him, and it seemed that I wouldn't have to explain myself much as it would turn out.
"IVGE PU OUYR OLGD, NDA OUY HASLL EB PASEDR!" There was a group of them, dressed in furs and leather. Some guys looked like samurai standing beside some more classically european pikeman, and a cavalier stood with his horse blocking the road, an odd looking bunch truth be told. Up front, a furred huntsman wielding a large ax seemed to be one shouting on behalf of the group, and I also wished that he had never opened his mouth to begin with. I have never once heard a more irritating, or ear drum grating voice come out of someone.
Imagine nails on a chalkboard, but then make that sensation into a human being.
These fucks really do have some lungs on them huh? They almost went over my 10 second limit for trash talk, criminality better not be scientifically linked to obnoxiousness. I will scream. In other news? We're kinda surrounded, but only in the sort of way where if we continued going down the road for 50~ feet we'd be perfectly in place for an ambush. At the moment? There's like two guys with knives close to the sides of the cart far ahead of the rest of their group, but since I had stopped us they're basically in the open now.
"LOSLYW OMCE LOCERS, URSENRDER OUYR OOGDS NDA EW HASLL PASRE OUYR IVLES. ESRIST SU NDA OUY ILWL EB LASUHTGERED-!" Bob's face has been quickly paling at whatever's being said, which only means that this is bound to be worse rather than simply bad news. My ears are once again asking for financial compensation.
"Oh for god's sake just shut the fuck up!" My words came out half snarled, and my arm swung in front of me shuddering all the while up to the point when it straightened out.
Be quiet you rat bastard bandit fuck.
A flash of fire erupted out of my wrist, catching the shocked brigand in the shoulder shredding the fur along that part of his chest. It practically went off with a veritable BANG, from the sheer pressure that built up so quickly waiting to be released at my command. I'd forgotten how loud magic can be sometimes. I didn't exactly mean for that to happen, but I will take credit for my aim being able to hit someone from so far away. That was sick.
". . ." Ah, shit. The silence after I'd launched my fireball was quite nearly deafening, I suppose that they assumed that this would be easy for them. How disappointed must they be?
The scared shitless look that Bob gave after pulling that stunt certainly made me feel plenty guilty. Scaring people was the point, but I kinda forgot to account for the poor man sitting next to me. I tried to give him a comforting grin as I jumped down from where I sat to the ground below. The bandits had shaken off their shock, the man on the horse pointing his spear in our direction, and shouting something that I of course couldn't make heads or tails of. Given the current situation though?
My money's on a death threat.
If the group's vanguard force charging at us offers any clues, it may appear that I've triggered the horde as it were. Maybe I should've thought it through more, but it's too late for regret now. Ah, I suppose that delaying them might be the best that I could do, and perhaps buy enough time for Bob's family to turn the cart around and run. In that case, drawing agro like this might be far more preferable.
Hmm, yeah that sounds doable.
Well, as long as I don't suddenly grow a conscience mid-fight it should be fine.
Jumping out of the cart was my next move, if they want a fight then I might as well build some distance between me and Bob's family. It's manners really, I can settle my own fights. I'm a grown ass man. Shaking off the new, but familiar ache I'd grown to associate with the price that comes with using a spell. They really should've rushed us instead of standing there blocking the road, making threats. I tightened my grip on Lil Ol Reliable well before the lead ax guy was able to close the distance, still wishing I kept around a sword or something from the last time I'd fought.
The ax of the man flashed as the acting vanguard took an overhead swipe whilst approaching me. The enemy's impending strikes misses me by what might as well be a mile, the resulting attack's path having been altered by my own earlier hit to his shoulder. My own retaliatory strike follows up soon after, and with him being too dazed by the cauterized wound I left behind helped ensure that it landed.
Even being too close to full back away from my lunge, he still tried to escape my approaching blade, while my free hand grabbed him by his outstretched arm to drag him closer. His eyes flicker up to me, at the arm holding him in place, rage replaced by panic as his eyes widen in realization far too late. It's a split second, but it's long enough.
The bastard left himself far too open.
In a flash of moment close to under a second, my knife's buried itself up to his nose only stopping to rest against his mandible. The initial blood spray coating my hand as drops splashed against the front of his chest, and fell onto the dirt below. Just before where my strike ended with the rest of his torn open throat, was made even more apparent by the bloody hole that replaced my knife when I finally pulled back. "And stay dead."
Critical Hit!
LEVEL UP!
[5]
HP: 30 + 0 | Mv: 4
Str: 9 + 0 | Lck: 7 + 0
Mag: 15 + 1| Def: 9 + 1
Dex: 7 + 0 | Res: 12 + 1
Spd: 12 + 0 | Cha: 7 +0
There's some fledgling attempt of his to stay conscious, the bandit's eyes flickering as he tries to hold the blood from gushing out of his throat, evident by his desperate attempts to breathe. Sputtering sounds were the only things to come out of his mouth now, they we're soon joined by spitfulls of blood as his face quickly paled. I let go over the hold I held on his arm, the sudden change causing him to fall with his eyes going wide in fear. He continued to cling on to some semblance of life at that point, but his body soon slackened and stilled once he fell to the floor. His own bleeding would surely drown out any chance that he might've lived otherwise.
A pair of blades flashed towards me from the corners of my vision.
Twin points sliced into me at the same time, one nicking the side of my head coming from the left while the other scratched at my dominant arm holding my knife. Blood slid down my cheek, sticky and warm to the point that the light afternoon chill made it feel close to boiling on my skin. Searing pain blossomed over those areas, furthermore seeping into my free hand to point blank scorch the pikeman that had managed to graze my face. My outstretched arm stung the air before flooding the space with smoke, pushing against myself, bones throbbing as magical might conjured a bright bolt of flame.
I turned, leaving the former to recover whilst I dealt with his partner. Rushing, grabbing his spear as he tried to use it in an effort to ward me off. Lunging forward, missing his chest in favor of striking his bare arm. Despite the man's attempt to push me away, my blade dug into his exposed elbow, shredding tendons and severing sinew.
"AAAHHH-!" The pikeman shrieks, and my leg swings up to kick his torso, collapsing as I closed the distance between us. He tried to clutch his arm whilst protecting his throat, my blade dropped lower, slicing into his underbelly below the sternum. For the moment I'm there, with my knife gut deep inside the man, my body shudders from an unknown force hitting my shoulder. With my adrenaline in full force, the pain passed, with not so much as a blink.
Pulling myself free, my left arm grabs the man's spear from his weakened grasp. A yelp leaves his lips, the action of retching it free pulling against the man's ruined arm. My knife hand has been left practically painted red going from the wrist down. A fact made blatantly obvious once the bandit falls to the floor, lacking the support that the weapon once granted him by planting it against the ground.
Turning on my heel, I met a lunging spear with my own, knocking both of them to the side. A sloppy parry with the needed affect, both open, but one of us was still armed.
The other pikeman had managed to recover in the time I took to murder his friend, or at least shook off the residual impact from the fire I'd torched him with. Tightening my grip, stepping forward for a lunge came soon after. I reeled back for an overhand swing with my knife in my offhand, under the helmet his eyes darted to it, and caught the incoming blow. The blow bounced against his free arm, the man's eyes shined at the realization. Twisting the hand that held my spear back towards him, I pushed against the floor, and completed my lunge.
The pikeman went stumbling back, a jittering few steps before he stopped to stand in place.
"A-! G-! Y-!" It came out garbled, in stuttered and broken pieces with breaths that came out in desperate gasps. His excitement from blocking my hit had been replaced by a face screwed up in pain, glancing down only to catch sight of the lance I'd buried into his chest. A look of sudden shock overtook the pikeman's face, taking in gasping breaths, shallow quick stuttering breaths as he started to convulse uncontrollably. He dropped his own weapon the very moment my own oversized stolen spear was lodged into the right section of his pectorals. The wooden handle had ended up stuck several inches past the iron spear point, shattering bone, and slicing through flesh in one motion.
I heard a harsh voice in the distance. There was someone yelling, shouting more like. I was too focused to discern where it came from, only that it wasn't from the dying man before me. "toSp lapinyg roandu, ebSstaani, icMeahl, etg veor erhe! orFget boaut aktngi riponsers, usjt ilkl het agme nda e'lwl eadl itwh hetm atler."
I recentered myself, flipping my newly stolen spear as I stared the second archer who'd tried shooting at me. This would be the second spear I'd stolen today, leaving the first to impale the body of the man I'd just absolutely slaughtered. He on the other hand was stuck fumbling with his own bow. Disregarding him for the moment, my attention turned to his compatriot located a bit behind me. Far more sure of himself in his posture with another arrow strung in his bow, seemingly on the brink of letting loose.
There was nothing I could do, nothing but duck.
fuuoo~!
I dropped to the floor not a moment to soon, the arrow whistled past me, and landing with an audible 'thunk' somewhere in the forest behind me. A part of me was hoping that it would still hit me anyway and just put me out of my misery.
As I approached, the archer dropped his bow in favor of a knife, goading me with a 'come at me' gesture. I lunged twice with my weapon's much longer reach, hitting him once in the leg and again in the shoulder without receiving any damage myself. Like the others, he collapsed, not quite dead yet but by my estimates he would be soon.
LEVEL UP!
[6]
HP: 30 + 1 | Mv: 4
Str: 9 + 1 | Lck: 7 + 1
Mag: 16 + 1| Def: 10 + 0
Dex: 7 + 1 | Res: 13 + 0
Spd: 12 + 1 | Cha: 7 +0
The other hunter had finally gotten into position, taking a shot at my exposed back like his predissesor had done before, but unlike the first. I expect to be shot this time, and dodged. My hand buzzed, the sparks surrounding my hand singeing the polished wood making up the handle of my spear. I abandoned the effort to hold it whilst I was casting, the power pooling in my fingertips before being released.
cRaCK
Lightning snapped to the archer's body, a tear in the sky striking him dead center, his extremities spasming under the electrical power. Despite my efforts, he straightened out and tried to ready a third arrow to use against me. So I struck him again, and it seemed to be enough to cook his brain, a reddish black mark trailed down his frame prompting him to fall dead shortly after the change.
While it might just be the blood loss talking, these assholes are simply t-arrow-ible opponents to fight against, eh?
Unfortunately, while I could joke about the arrow stuck in my shoulder, it still left my head pounding from the magical aftershocks leaking down into my limbs. The strength holding together my bones was starting to feel papier-mache thin, and I knew from my brief practice into the mystical arts that the sensation wouldn't be leaving anytime soon. It wasn't like I had the luxury of simply resting for half an hour until the nausea faded away.
My right switched out my switchblade for a bottle of the painkiller that I'd bought a few days ago, stowing it away only to be hopefully replaced with some much needed relief. I've got a good spear now so it's best to save the knife for better opportunities, wish I had been on hand, but it should nonetheless do the trick.
It reminded me of minty mouthwash, with an aftertaste that matched a pleasant internal burning purging my chest of aches. The liquid went smoothly, cool to the throat while setting a torch to the cramped feeling that had grown to encompass my ribcage. More than what I came to expect the last time I drank it, the sensation continued to spread from my chest to my extremities. Only a small spot on my back strayed from that path, a painful pressure building against one of my shoulder blades.
Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. . . wait a god damn moment-
My first thought was 'Huh, this doesn't feel like the same kick that tylenol gives.' My second one came after feeling the blood openly flowing from my wounds as it all turned to a slow trickle. To only then seen the skin, and sinew of recently erected gashes across my body sealing shut was to then think, 'This is a fucking potion, I bought fucking potions.' and god did I feel like such a dumbass at that very moment. Of course people would be selling potions and not painkillers, the only valid painkiller in all of human history had taken form in the chemical shape of booze. Moron. Shouldn't known something was off when walking got so much easier.
Thanks past me hoping to get high off of this stuff, instead you've saved our life. We're still not using this to get high, this place is far too dangerous for that, and I really rather not OD.
With some of my pain elevated it allowed me a moment for my thoughts to stray. Wonder how the Bob's are doing, at that thought I took a small peak in their direction. Fully expecting to see them well on their way, maybe even half a mile down the road. Instead I saw them picking a fight with three assailants of their own, all bearing swords keeping their horse from fleeing with them. Two other archers were blocking the way to them, now jogging toward intercepting me it seems. Because the world clearly needs more blasted archers. I considered turning back right there and then, just to break this makeshift blockage so that they could leave more easily if nothing else.
Bob's wife then proceeded to quite literally behead a man in a single strike.
I can't say that they actually need much help at all. You go girl. Girlboss, girlmaim, girlmurder or whatever it is that people say. What else can I say, but that Bob has excellent taste in women.
They seem to be handling themselves for the moment at least, bit worrying that they haven't left by now, but that just means I have more work to do. I turned to glance back at what awaited me, that being two men armed with swords, standing before a knight atop his trusty steed.
"usJt ilkl imh," The cavalier seems to yell out commands, smacking one of his men over the top of their head, and getting them to finally charge at me. "t'sI usjt neo ucfinkg obnle rabt! urSournd imh, nda infish imh ffo lraadey!"
Oh for god's sake, can I not get one second to myself?
That was probably something along the lines of "Kill him!", but I couldn't possibly care less at this point.
Like before, this pair too rushed to strike at me at the same moment. I can't avoid being hit, but I can make them regret it. As their blades swung at me, trying to pincer me, I returned the favor. Dashing up to one of them, my arm receiving a gash as I plunged my spear under his shin and into the throat itself. The move had worked too well, focussing on one so heavily that he buckled under the counter change so much that I managed to pierce his neck as he approached. Far too easy to return the favor if you got too close, but that was partially my intention. To force the risk of friendly fire for a moment in order to guarantee a hit of my own whilst limiting their ability to hit me both at once.
The archers would be here soon, and the sooner I could deal with these samurai looking wannabes, the better state I'll be in.
Can't say that I appreciated taking an arrow to my side, my leather and cloth clothing not doing much to stop the arrowhead from sinking into the flesh covering my hip. Whilst stuck in my side, blood didn't freely spill forth unlike the rest of my litany of wounds, I ignored the change and followed through with killing the other ninja look alike. Slashing at his knee to bring him down for me to execute with a fireball to his maw, the resulting blast melted the skin off the bone. Not only doing that, but blowing open a hole in his throat.
I couldn't help but notice the horseman standing, circling, while those soldiers he still had remaining, fought for him. Just watching me dismantle them from beyond the edge of my personal range of attack.
LEVEL UP!
[7]
HP: 32 + 0 | Mv: 4
Str: 10 + 1 | Lck: 8 + 1
Mag: 17 + 1 | Def: 10 + 1
Dex: 8 + 1 | Res: 13 + 1
Spd: 13 + 1 | Cha: 7 + 1
An arrow had fallen short of hitting me, lodged in the dirt a small ways from me.
It brought me back to the archers that I'd previously forgone in favor of shorter ranged targets. As the last two archer's I was hoping to deal with, my attacks became far more brutal and direct than they had been before.
ssscRACK! CRaCK! CraCKK! ScRAcK! CRACK!
I didn't bother with skewering either of them, my free hand becoming a veritable lightning rod as I conjured forth concurrent bolts of electricity. My magic lost some accuracy in the blitz, wasting five charges on the man made thunderstorm that was simulated by my hand. Missing once of twice wasn't much of a concern of mine as long as they didn't get the chance to fire off another shot of their own. A magical migraine came in full force once I was done casting, the residual sparks buzzed up and down my arm. There was a fuzzy feeling, an ache that I didn't know quite what to do with as I allowed my body time to return from the nerves backfiring.
A temporary overload, blurring the line so much that I'd only felt once you'd let a limb fall asleep by cutting off blood flow.
"owH tturley seuesls," The cavalier circling me seems to remark, gazing dispassionately at the corpses lying on the ground by my feet. His refuseful jump in and help his friends, while welcome, was far too odd to be comforting. When he actually decided to raise his weapon against me, it set off those very same alarm bells from earlier. "It oolks ikle I ilwl avhe ot irdty ym anhds ot eadl itwh a rewcht ikle ouy ysmlfe."
His strike sent me tumbling through the dirt, my dominant arm cut all the way down to the bone. An initial splatter of blood painted the ground about where his blade made contact with my body, the slow clopping from his . Every open wound I had up to the point screamed, screeching at me to lay down as I got back up, taking in heaving breaths before figuring out what options I had left.
I kind of have to scrap together what magical power I have left, I doubt I'd get the change to slip my knife past that armor of his. Or even catch up to his horse in order to do so. Guess my magic isn't just my hail mary for nothing.
My working hands hummed with familiar energy, crackling with power as I mostly caught the tail end of his horse in the lightning strike. The cavalier swung around, an scornful look adorning his face as he lined himself up for a second charge so that he could mow me down. There wasn't enough to keep my aim steady, but with him coming closer I didn't need to be as accurate. Arcane forces sizzled in the palm of my hand, more substantive than pure power incarnate, and more capable concerning destructive applications.
The flames licked at my fingers, bathing them with an orange glow that was starting to look brighter than the light that was present by the sun in the late evening. So much time had passed without me noticing, the fire intensifying in my grip replacing all other concerns with one thing.
To burn.
vfuooo-BANG!
The ball, not long a bolt of fire like how my past incarnations had been in the past cracked as it slashed against the charging knight's chestplate. For a moment, it appeared as if a molotov had struck the cavalier-man, practically exploding when it made contact and blowing a hole in his armor. The horse had tripped, rolling over in the tumble and breaking multiple legs in multiple places, leaving them all in odd angles that made my skin crawl.
I put it out of its suffering before its crying could continue.
When I was finished I could still hear the shuddering breaths someone was taking, the cavalier had survived. Not enough to really continue the fight, but by enough that he could certainly try. Both of us probably felt terrible, and he was clearly stronger than me. Maybe some other day, and some other time I would've died. A future chance that I'd be on the floor, with my armor melted in places, unable to cauterize my own wounds as molten steel quickly cooled within patches of exposed flesh within my open wounds. I myself was pretty close to being stuck on the floor agonizing over the pain for a little while longer.
I can certainly imagine it.
. . .
LEVEL UP!
[8]
HP: 32 + 1 | Mv: 4
Str: 11 + 0 | Lck: 9 + 0
Mag: 18 + 0 | Def: 11 + 0
Dex: 9 + 0 | Res: 14 + 1
Spd: 14 + 1 | Cha: 8 + 0
Wiping my blade, as well as I could without anything proper to do such a thing with. I'll need to put on the list of things I should buy whenever I get the chance.
Don't think a group of scoundrels have annoyed me more than they have just now. These guys still owe me for ruining my day, and of course they can't help but die all over the road. Even going so far as to obstruct it even in death, they couldn't just die conveniently either.
Might as well fix this if no one else will.
I downed the rest of my healing potion before storing the empty bottle, some of my lighter wounds sealed back up. The long and deep cut on my arm had partially mended, the heavy downpour was curbed over the course of 10 seconds turning into a oozing. Sinew, and muscle stitched back together though not completely tied down to the skin that should be there to cover the laceration. A stretch of flesh in my bicep felt unsettlingly loose, aching by an increasingly familiar degree. With the gushing of my blood significantly more manageable, I handed off my new not so shiny steel spear to my less injured side.
The cut was better now, but I was still tired. Possibly even more so than I had been before, not directly on death's door anymore like I was a few seconds ago.
There was probably something to that.
I'm definitely keeping a surplus of those on my person, being able to heal is unbelievably broken. Next thing on the list is to see if I can get Skyrim~esk mana potions. Slinging spells gets exhausting fast. That same energy that I'd been trying to hoard was being sapped out of me with every passing second, with the various wounds I've accumulated up to this point only worsening my condition.
I just had to think of something, anything else aside from the dead bastards that I'm currently looting. Well, what I'm doing is probably closer to just dragging these murdered men off the road, and salvaging anything that might be useful. A man's gotta multitask, and it helps takes the brain off the pain. Aside from their blades though, can't claim to say that they had much. The spear is a good upgrade sure, but this thing is still quite heavy. The spearhead is far to oversized for what it's meant to do.
A piece of metal shined up at me fron within one of the dead archer's pockets, slipping out only to fall on it's blank side. There wasn't nothing, some lettering I couldn't comprend was engraved onto the strange looking coin. Flipping it around, revealed something far stranger.
"Huh?"
Wiping what blood had ended up on the medallions during the battle off of it to reveal the metal visage underneath.
Not all too dissimilar to my own circular metal badge magically held in place upon my own person, but still different despite sharing some similarities. The steel instead of my brass seems to stand out the most. An image of a bird of prey perched upon a branch of wheat, spreading its wings above itself to line the edge with its feathers. Pretty far from a bird of paradise featuring talons too big to belong to one, something closer to a falcon, but a hawk might be an apt comparison for its appearance.
An eagle maybe?
Without paint to color it's chiseled frame that detail would likely remain a mystery to me, I doubt it was of a bald eagle. In whatever case that it should actually end up being my country's favorite feathered beast, I'll eat my own shoe. I've had it up to Here with the weirdness, a medieval fantasy version of the USA might just throw me for a loop perminantly. Every hour of every day that passes in the place just gets stranger to me, and this is no differen- wait a second. . .
Wha- Am I counting all of this right?
1
3
7
9
11
No wait 10
10 fuckin mediallions, one for each of the deceased idiots. With what sense would they use these, don't tell me that these fantasy criminals have gym memberships. Did I almost slaughter an entire roadside gang? Pretty weird gang to have metal hawk badges. Just get tattoos at that point, there's no excuse if an idiot like me can use magic, and thus I refuse to accept that you couldn't just get tattoos for your little gang of thieves. They'd be a lot harder to lose than metal trinkets at least.
I dropped them into a bag, sealed it tight and kept it close. Slotted them away next to my stowed knife. Their oddities, but maybe there'd be a bounty to collect. We are in fantasyland nowhere after all.
My mind's running on fumes, and it's getting late, the purple mixing with the blooming orange only added to the exhaustion that settled onto my frame. The sun was hidden, peaking in and out between the trees. Regardless, I need my shit, if only so I won't open a wound and bleed out. So I made my way back to their wagon, cart, thing.
One of the kids is waving and pointing at me, for some reason.
It made me suddenly self conscious.
With my mind no longer high off adrenaline or plain pain drunk, the mental fog in my brain lifted. Just how did I become killer this fast? Shouldn't I be more disturbed? What else haven't I noticed?
Looking down at myself seemed to at least partially answer that question.
There is so much goddamn blood on me.
It was an understatement if anyone had ever made such an observation, enough that trying to figure out how much of it was my own. Well, it was hard. Most of the blood on my hands and arms themselves were from others, everything else might as well have been a relegated to a coin flip.
TLDR: I look like a horror movie killer, but I also feel like one of Jigsaw's victims.
Which made the little girl almost seemingly cheered at the sight of me an even stranger feeling.
God, what do they teach kids here?
"omM, adD, oolk! I oltd ouy e'dh eb kaoy," The daughter yelled something out to her parents, waving to me as I made my approached, I'd prefer that it was good news about me. The son seemed to whispering something to his mother, too quiet for me to hear even before consider whether I'd understand any of it. Seemed sort of unnecessary to me.
Be it as it may, I wasn't really in the mood to pick a fight with mama, or papa bear. The mother was still cleaning off her short sword with a cloth, and staining the green fabic coloring part of it a deep brown. The father dropped his axe after he was finished addressing his children, his gaze stopping once he spotted me.
Bob shouted to his wife before rushing to my side, she spared me a knowing glance. With a surprising amount of tenderness, he grabbed my arm, swinging it over his own shoulder to help me aboard once more.
I hoped my lazy grin was enough to reassure them that I was fine.
Getting stabbed would be a bummer.
Note: The Bob's were the true MVP, kept that 1 v 10 from becomin 13. I hope I wrote that well. Really what I wanted to do was try and spice up how a fight scene can be written, like the results in the game would be the same but writing it out can make for more fluid combat. Hope the Cavalier came across as much of an asshole as I attempted to. Tried to crank up the callous, cocky, uncaring ness of his as much as I could without him being, y'know, a named character or having any real dialogue.
If the mods still want me to move this over to questing because of the poll, I'll try and make the transition as smooth as possible. I'm fucking punching air right now like you guys cannot believe.
Attack Speed = Speed − [ Weapon weight − (Strength / 5) ]
My AS with a steel knife: 11.8? That's called action economy bitch, I'm stupid fast.
Enemies:
Soldier Lv 7 (6 Mt iron spear, 6 wt) (2) (AS 4)
HP: 22 | Mv: 5
Str: 10 | Lck: 6
Mag: 5 | Def: 8
Dex: 12 | Res: 4
Spd: 8 | Cha: 7
Fighter Lv 8 (8 Mt iron axe, 7 wt) (1) (AS 3.4)
HP: 22 | Mv: 5
Str: 13 | Lck: 6
Mag: 5 | Def: 7
Dex: 8 | Res: 4
Spd: 8 | Cha: 6
Myrmidon Lv 9 (5 Mt iron sword, 5 wt) (2) (AS 8.8)
HP: 22 | Mv: 5
Str: 9 | Lck: 6
Mag: 5 | Def: 7
Dex: 9 | Res: 4
Spd: 12 | Cha: 5
Archer Lv 10 (6 Mt iron bow, 6 wt) (2) (AS 6)
HP: 28 | Mv: 5
Str: 10 | Lck: 11
Mag: 9 | Def: 6
Dex: 11 | Res: 5
Spd: 10 | Cha: 5
Cavalier Lv 10 (9 Mt steel spear, 11 wt) (1) (AS 2.8) y the fuck is steel so much heavier than iron? fuckin video games I'll take it though
HP: 29 | Mv: 7
Str: 14 | Lck: 12
Mag: 10 | Def: 10
Dex: 11 | Res: 6
Spd: 11 | Cha: 12
Go to my counterpart account on Questionable Questing if you the get the updates sooner. The chapters will still be posted here, though slower but more complete than on QQ.