Guide Big brain.
He'll be standing trial before kings soon. He needs it. never underestimate the nerd lol.
Yes I lied about Desert scourage being chapter 10 I'm sorry. everything always moves more slowly than expected.
Armour: Wood
Weap: Copper Bow (Fire Arrows), Arkhalis
Acc (11): Band of Regeneration, Radar, Hermes Boots
Health: 295/400
It annoyed him how quickly the bruises seemed to fade off The Terrarian's skin. It'd been merely fifteen minutes since they'd finished trading punches, and The Terrarian - who had been the victim of a rather one-sided beatdown was regenerating before his eyes. Shallow cuts sealed up like zippers. Bruises wiped away like stains on a dirty table. The nasty bite on his wrist faded and vanished. In no time at all, The Terrarian - who's initial condition had been quite ragged (having just crawled out from a day long expedition in the bowels of the earth) was as fresh and healthy as the day he was born.
Urgh…
The Guide, on the other hand, was much worse for wear. He was in so much pain, he barely managed to prop himself against the far wall without dropping tears. The Terrarian obviously hadn't expected to be attacked, but regardless got a few body shots in before their scuffle abruptly ended. One of those body shots struck The Guide squarely on his fractured rib - nearly causing him to vomit from the pain (nearly - he had nothing to vomit up). The battle ended there - with The Terrarian gasping on the floor, and The Guide clinging to himself and retching beside him.
Ow… phew…
Luckily for him, The Terrarian was proving himself much less of a monster than The Guide had chalked him up to be. He could tell the almost-man was angry, more angry than The Guide had ever seen him. His face was shadowed by his visor, but his quick, violent gestures gave away his mood. He could have very easily gone in for the kill, but refrained. Instead, he climbed to his feet, seized The Guide beneath the arms, and ignored his flailing as he roughly dragged the both of them into the tiny dirt hovel. He sealed the both of them in, tossed The Guide against the far corner, and almost disdainfully threw down a campfire between them. Rather surprisingly, he was the one to open conversation. Even more surprisingly, his voice betrayed frustration - an underlying snarl beneath his monotone.
"You confuse me, Guide."
It was The Guide's turn to be terse. He curled his lip and glared up at the Terrarian's visored face, noting the way the flickering flames danced threateningly over the sharpened visage. He likely didn't look nearly as intimidating, but regardless felt the need to make his displeasure known. After a long moment, he offered a grunt of acknowledgement. He was tired - not just physically, but emotionally as well - and really didn't feel like doing much talking. If he opened his mouth, The Terrarian might realize how immensely relieved The Guide was to see him… and relief was not the message he wished to portray in this moment. Right now, he wanted to be spiteful, angry and hateful.
The Terrarian's posture tightened as he continued.
"I never know what you'll do next."
The Guide scoffed, then winced as the airflow pressed against his bruised ribs. Was The Terrarian complaining about his eccentricities? How amusing. The most eccentric being on the planet was confused by him? The Terrarian was the one who possessed enough mind-bending abilities to make scholars hang themselves. He was the one that was carrying a forest of trees, and (probably) a quarry of stone underneath his sleeves. He had also engaged in a carpet bombing campaign on a whim. What a joke. It hurt too much to laugh, so The Guide satisfied himself with a scornful snort.
The Terrarian clearly didn't appreciate his gestures, and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Sand fell from the ceiling. I dug you out. You wouldn't wake and creatures began to prowl. I built you a shelter - the same way you taught me. Was I unreasonable? How would you have me proceed, Guide?"
"…"
The Guide continued to glare at him from the floor. He was mad at The Terrarian, but even madder at himself… because he had no real rebuttal to this simple recounting of events. The actions The Terrarian claimed to have taken were not only reasonable, but also done for the express purpose of The Guide's welfare. From his perspective, he had gone out of his way to keep The Guide safe in their unenviable situation, only for his attempt at kindness to be repaid by physical retaliation. A surprise to be sure.
Humph… crap… well, now's not the time to vent… phew…
The Guide took a deep breath and temporarily swallowed his anger. What was the best way to proceed, now that he was alive. He could spend his breath explaining the nuances of mental trauma, just to get a point across. Perhaps he could tell The Terrarian that leaving somebody locked in the dark for 36 hours was something he shouldn't have done - and he should feel bad for doing so. What was The Terrarian thinking right now? His mind was simple. His thought processes, straightforward. At this moment, he was likely considering whether or not The Guide was indeed a madman. If he was even worth the effort to keep around.
Are you on the chopping block again?
The Guide swallowed his pride and pondered. Over the next couple of minutes, he must explain his violent actions, or at least somehow detract from them. If he didn't, he'd prove himself unhinged - and at that point, it was very likely The Terrarian would no longer tolerate his presence. If The Terrarian cast him aside, then The Guide would never see the Vulture-headed Mage crushed. Right now, his dream was on the line.
Think… think… ah.
The Guide raised his eyes and steadied his voice as much as he could. An argument that stemmed from emotions - emotions that The Guide wasn't sure if The Terrarian even experienced - would be far too weak. He needed something simple. Something clear. This was a game of blame shifting, and The Guide had just the weapon to hurl at his opponent.
"I told you about traps, did I not?"
The Terrarian paused, as if confused by this abrupt shift in conversation. After a moment, he nodded an affirmative. The Guide's mind raced through the great archives of his knowledge as he pieced together a story.
"Traps are deadly. Malicious things. They can be used to crush, to kill, to impale, suffocate. Sand traps, particularly nasty. Used during war to not just kill men, but capture them as well. I have never triggered one - I know how to avoid such things… but I was caught regardless."
At that, The Terrarian's head dropped a quarter inch. His posture seemed to sink ever so slightly. The Guide silently noted these cues and continued.
"There was somebody attempting to kill me. Perhaps they were watching closely - waiting for me to fall within range of the sand before triggering the pressure plate. Afterwards, I found myself locked in a stone prison. In my mind, it was very clear I had been captured by a malicious entity. When my prison was being opened, I never expected to see you."
Beautiful.
The Guide needed to restrain himself from finishing with a flair. This short speech was a thing of beauty. Not only did it justify The Guide's behavior, but put the ball soundly back into The Terrarian's court. Was The Terrarian malicious? It was up to him to prove otherwise. He also had the opportunity to display his knowledge of traps and their history - further cementing his status as somebody much more knowledgeable. The Terrarian, a man with little knowledge of the world, would have no way to rebut any part of his argument. He had asked for an explanation, and would need to accept the one he'd been given.
"I...see."
As expected, The Terrarian didn't contest him. Throughout the duration of The Guide's short speech, his body language had gone from indignant to sheepish. The Guide knew The Terrarian had triggered the trap. He also knew there was nobody else in these caves. He had intentionally created the 'malicious killer' such that he could avoid blaming The Terrarian directly - as he was unsure how he would react to such accusations. Now… he could take a stance of fake humbleness, and offer The Terrarian a method to escape blame.
"I appreciate your good intentions, Terrarian. I hope you won't misunderstand my actions as ungratefulness. I was merely acting out of an abundance of caution. Did I hurt you very badly?"
An asinine question, but useful in this mind game. The Terrarian was entirely unscathed - but that final gesture of concern almost wracked him bodily. He shook his head numbly as he stared at the floor, not meeting The Guide's eyes.
Heh… he looked like a kicked dog… maybe… I was a little too tough after all… I feel a bit bad...
The Guide sighed once more and once again attempted to sit up. His throat was so dry, he swore it was scabbing up. Giving a speech did it no favours. He wanted a glass of water… no, some healing potion more than anything in this world right now, and The Terrarian looked just about guilty enough to do anything for him. He opened his mouth to make his request known.
"Say, Terrarian."
The man startled before looking at him.
"I have to admit, fistfighting you hasn't been my greatest idea… the punch you landed is playing havoc with my innards. Show me what you've collected during your underground adventures. I can only pray you've stumbled upon something that can heal me."
yes! Finally we can craft stuff with ores. TIme to feed my power fantasy! ree
Guide is just running circles around my darling slayer. It's okay though. Now that they've kicked the snot out of eachother, they can be frens