Merry Christmas my dudes
Guide is that one friend who just loves to hear the sound of their own voice lol. poor guido tho ;(
Armour: Platinum
Weapon: Platinum Bow (Fire Arrows); Arkhalis
Acc(9/11): Band of Regeneration, Radar, Sailfish Boots, Round Shield, Aglet, Rover Drive, Crown Jewel, Tsunami in a Bottle, Frog Leg
Health: (395/400)
"I hope you're hungry."
"..."
The Guide smiled blandly as he fought to maintain a facade of cheerfulness. He held up two large lake-bass by the gills and battled through the oppressively awkward atmosphere. The two of them had been foraging and fishing for the better part of the last two hours, and during that entire time - The Terrarian hadn't uttered a single word in response to The Guide's innumerable comments and probings. All of The Guide's attempt to strike up some sort of conversation had fallen flat in the face of stubborn silence. Eventually, he had resorted to just talking petty things to himself. Mostly encouragements.
"I make a pretty mean grilled fish. Everyone loves my grilled fish."
"..."
The Guide flashed another grin before facing forward and leading the way back to the forest clearing he had begun to call home. As he steadily carved his path through the thick undergrowth, he watched The Terrarian from the corner of his eye. He felt a bit less jumpy around him. It was clear The Terrarian still relied on his knowledge - and probably wouldn't harm him until his usefulness was exhausted, which would very likely give him at least a few months of guaranteed safety. The moment The Guide conspired the death of the meddlesome Travelling Merchant, he likewise accepted that he himself might also die at The Terrarian's hands. It wasn't something he was bitter about, since he had freely chosen the path of brutality instead of mercy, but it did push an urgency onto his heart.
I need to make sure I kill the Vulture-Headed Mage before I also become useless… once I avenge my family, I'll happily die and join them.
And so, with his (admittingly fatalistic) goal clear in his mind, The Guide had taken his murderous companion into the forest to search for potion ingredients. The Terrarian needed to get stronger. Somehow, The Guide knew he wasn't ready to fight the Mage. He had just begun pondering about how he might build up his slayer when The Terrarian walked over with an armful of potions and inquired about their purpose.
Of course, The Guide had been happy to assist. Slowly building this strange almost-friendship with an almost-human was difficult and engaging enough to take his mind off the darker things looming in his mind. The gaunt faces of the townspeople and the keening death rattle his own mother emitted as The Crimson turned her lifeless eyes upon him... those horrid images plagued his dreams enough at night. The daytime was for happier things.
...Like taking revenge for a slimeball to the face by overwhelming The Terrarian with so much information The Guide could almost imagine that visor scrunching its brow in reeling confusion.
Humph.
The following hours had been an entirely one-sided chatter about potions, their ingredients, their uses and the risks associated with them. The Terrarian had been characteristically silent and - in full battle regalia - listlessly followed him around the forest landscape to pick up whatever he pointed at. They had collected all manners of herbs, bait insects, sunken crates and meal-worthy fish, all of which The Terrarian stored -invisible- beneath his sleeves. Quite a haul, to be sure - and the The Terrarian hauled the bounty all day without uttering a single word.
Well, at least he's pretending to listen.
The Guide winced as the undergrowth tugged at his pant legs whilst he kicked his way through a low shrub. Overhead, the sky was beginning to darken as afternoon slowly faded to dusk. The songbirds had since gone silent, and the only noise (aside for The Guide's radio-chatter) was the persistent cawing of a faraway crow, and the rustle of leaves in the cold breeze. The atmosphere was affecting his mood as well. As the sunlight faded, his mind turned to more melancholy things. To stave off the dark thoughts, he spewed useless drivel, occasionally directing it at the dead lake-bass and alternatively The Terrarian. Neither responded to him.
"I'll teach you the recipe for the best fish you've ever tasted if you ask nicely."
"..."
As expected, no luck - however The Terrarian did turn his head slightly to acknowledge he was being spoken to. He had been marching around all day in that dreadfully heavy armour, and seemed to ignore its weight the same way he ignored the draw of a bow and the many tonnes of equipment and resources he carried on his person. Earlier, he had pulled an anvil from nowhere to craft them both fishing rods, picked it up in his arms, and afterwards accomplished an eye-popping eight foot vertical jump into a nearby ledge to put it down somewhere else. Clearly he simply ignored the weight of things. As such The Guide felt no remorse when loading him up with all manner of cargo. A load he bore silently, and without complaint.
Frankly, The Guide would have loved to hear him complain, or at least do something to help fill this dreadful silence. The Guide needed to stave off today's mental breakdown until he was safely locked in his bedroom, and the only thing that was keeping his mind from straying toward the crimson monstrosity were fish recipes.
"I guess I'll tell you, even if you don't ask. Throw a whole bunch of mushroom oil into the pot, let it come to a simmer, add diced daybloom leaves, blinkroot heads and lay your fish on that bed of herbs… flip the fish once, then afterwards turn the heat down and ladle the fragrant oil over it until the skin splits when you poke it. Best fish in town. A time tested recipe of my Mo-... of my ...mother's"
Crap...
At the utterance of 'his mother' his voice grew abruptly sullen. That nightmarish image of her gaunt frame - beset upon by great fleshy growths and staggering in that bleeding scarlet landscape burst in his mind's eye. He grimaced as the psychological effect wracked him bodily. His breath caught in his throat and he nearly stumbled over a protruding tree root as his vision momentarily doubled. Those thoughts he had been doing his best to keep at bay flooded in all at once. Terrifying questions. Is mom still in there? Did the Crimson get all of the villagers? What about their minds? The souls?
Bile rose in his throat, and he instinctively clapped a hand over his mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut and huffed into his palm. Unbeknownst to him, he had stopped walking and nearly crushed one of the fish's skulls in his balled fist. Cold blood flowed from between his fingers and dripped into the grass, splattering it red - but he was so far buried in his imaginative hellscape he hardly realized what he was doing.
Dammit! Dammit dammit! What are you gonna do? The Crimson's coming. It's coming here. It ate your village. It ate your family. Is it true that the Crimson infection traps the minds and souls of its victims? No - it's surely a rumor… it was spread by some madman… b-but…
"...ack!"
Cold armour tapped him on the arm and The Guide was startled back to reality. He flinched violently then whirled to find The Terrarian standing rigidly beside him. A thrill of panicked embarrassment coloured his cheeks as he realized he had failed to hide his trauma. He couldn't afford to show weakness in front of The Terrarian. The last thing he needed was for the emotionless almost-man to think he was a liability and do away with him. He forced a painful smile and threw the disgustingly fake cheerfulness back into his voice.
"Oh… uh, its… really a fantastic… recipe… we should hurry back… come on..."
The Guide gulped and turned away, fixing his eyes forward. He didn't know what his face looked like at that moment, but something told him it wasn't a good expression. He felt like he was about to burst. He was being pressured from every side imaginable. Not only was The Vulture-headed mage an impossible goal, but the method of accomplishing said goal was coldly holding the constant threat of execution over his head. The Traveling Merchant had likewise gotten himself tangled into this mess, and was capable of snatching The Terrarian away from him on a whim. Now, The Crimson was once again spreading, and had not only assimilated the flesh and blood of The Guide's loved ones - but possibly could have captured their minds and souls as well. What a great set of burdens had been lain on his shoulders... to imagine only a couple of days ago, his chief concern was saving up enough to buy the next edition of the country's official encyclopedia.
I'm… I'm hopeless. I can't do this...I... I just want to go home...
The Guide furiously blinked away the beginnings of tears and stared straight forward, intending to continue on the path back to the clearing. He couldn't let himself fall into despair. No. He needed to cling to hope. Hope for his revenge. He just needed to continue moving forward. Keep walking... and he would eventually make it...Right?
He shook his head and struck out in the direction of the clearing. He could see the building's outer gray brick facade from between the tree trunks. Yet, before he could take a single step, A cold hand hooked two fingers over his shoulder and stopped him in his tracks. Panic constricted like a python around his throat. Dread writhed like icy worms in his stomach. The Guide gulped and slowly turned to look at his emotionless companion.
Am I dead… is this it?
It wasn't. The Terrarian let him go as soon as he turned, then pointed at the pair of fish The Guide had halfway mangled. He held out a hand - silently requesting custody of tonight's dinner. A request which The Guide silently granted.
Oh...
The Guide wasn't sure if his companion was truly capable of empathy, or if he had just decided their progress was too slow and wished to take the lead, but as he traced The Terrarian's heavily armoured footsteps through the winding forest path, his sick heart was comforted - if just a little.
Okay yeah so Merchant next & The boys do a little chat-chat, then hopefully I get to either nurse or Desert Scourage by ch 20.
Poor Guide man... :/