Quest Completed!
You finished your training with Mercenary Gregor. Congratulations for not backing out like a coward.
Bonus Objective: Reach 'D' rank with at least one weapon type (Complete).
Reward: 1000 EXP, improved relations with Gregor, future allies.
Congratulations! You have leveled up!
The following stats have increased:
Tier 1, Level 4
HP: 8+1=9
Strength (STR): 3+1=4
Magic (MAG): 1
Skill (SKL): 2+1=3
Speed (SPD): 4+1=5
Luck (LK): 6+1=7
Defense (DEF): 3+1=4
Resistance (RES): 4
Attribute Points: 1+1=2
Weapon Skills
Axes: E-Rank (25%)
Lances: E-Rank (35%)
Swords: E-Rank (45%)
Bows: D-Rank (1%)
Issac was glad he was already smiling from seeing Graycott atop the dune he had just crested. Otherwise, Gregor may have wondered if something was wrong with him.
He actually did it. He reached D-Rank with bows in just a month of training! And he could keep his training weapons! He knew that his progression would slow down immensely from here. Not having anyone to teach him meant that he would be practicing on his own for a significant period of time. The amount of time needed to increase his bow skills to C-Rank would be considerably greater than the time needed to get it to D-Rank.
Still, he wouldn't let that irritating fact get in the way of his joy. This was only the first of many triumphs he would celebrate. Getting to this milestone so quickly was a massive achievement, and nothing would ruin this feeling.
Teacher and student both made their way towards the village entrance. Despite himself, Issac felt his glee devolve into mere satisfaction. The gate protecting Graycott was weathered at best, with several beams cracked from years of sun exposure. It would hardly keep out a mild sandstorm, never mind an actual attack by Ylisseans.
It did, however, make a perfect staging ground for bandit raids into their eastern neighbor. Or, 'expeditionary forces,' as the locals liked to call it. As much as he hated to admit it, the raids were necessary. Despite its location, Graycott was seemingly a low-priority for Mad King Gangrel. Why that was, Issac couldn't answer.
Even if he could, that didn't change the fact that walking along the single street showed Issac just how… defeated everyone looked. Families were huddled in houses that looked ready to fall over. The few children that watched his arrival were pulled away from the windows by their parents, whispering furiously in their ear.
Worse still was the number of people who didn't even have homes to live in. Nearly half of the population hid away in the handful of alleys in the village, constantly moving to stay shaded from the unrelenting sun. Issac could barely look any of them in the eye; their empty stares made his skin crawl.
"We're back, wee one."
That irritating nickname shook Issac out of his depressive train of thought. He blinked, realizing that he was already at Verona's door. He shuffled the bag to his other shoulder, the weight making him lean to his side. He cleared his throat, knocking on the door with a shaky hand. Almost immediately, the door was yanked open, warm arms almost crushing him as they wrapped around his back.
"You're back! I'm so glad you're alright!"
The tension that had been building in his chest melted away. Issac hugged Verona as tightly as he could. Somehow, she felt a little thinner than the last time they embraced. Tears spilled onto her gown, much to his embarrassment. Why am I crying so much already? I hardly know her!
"S-Sorry," Issac mumbled, trying to push away his tears before she noticed. Soft hands pulled his face out of his hands. He froze when her thumbs wiped the tears off of his face. Her smile was piercing, seeing through his facade with practiced ease.
"It's alright, dear." Verona rubbed his shoulders, Issac subconsciously leaning into her. "You're home now. I think it's time for a bit of a break from the training Gregor's put you through." Being a foot shorter than the mercenary did little to diminish the glare she sent him.
"Bahah!" Gregor guffawed. "Verona not wrong. Issac worked himself half-dead, but got strong! Issac may fight off bandits on his own soon!"
Issac's already pale face whitened further. "I… don't think I'm good enough to fight that well yet."
Verona cleared her throat. "He won't be fighting in the first place on an empty stomach. Come inside. You're just in time for lunch!"
Gregor and Issac walked inside. A trio of soup bowls were already prepared on the table. Seeing their surprised expressions, Verona huffed.
"It's been exactly one month. My memory hasn't gone to pasture yet, boys."
Neither Gregor or Issac wanted to raise a counterpoint to that, especially with their stomachs growling in anticipation. With a chuckle and blush, respectively, they joined Verona at the table.
The meal was simple, yet pleasant. Issac savored the taste of the potato stew. It was his favorite back on Earth, and somehow it tasted even better here. Maybe it's because of the amount of work he's done since arriving?
He was about to compliment Verona on her cooking, but he paused at the way she seemed to draw into herself.
"Garrick came through town last week."
Shit. Issac dropped his spoon. He had no context for what this could mean. 'God' wasn't giving him any hints or sass, and for the first time he found it unsettling instead of relieving. Having even the smallest hint of what that could mean would be a huge help!
I gave you your hint already. Don't be such a simpleton.
Issac pursed his lips, barely holding back a groan when he remembered the quest he just completed. If he had failed it, he would've been in Graycott when Garrick's crew came through Graycott. His absence was a blessing twice over, now.
"Gregor hopes Garrick didn't take much." The ginger's tone was much darker than Issac remembered hearing before. Even while fighting the bandits, his voice never dipped into a venomous timber.
Verona's slumped shoulders only made Issac's gut clench further. "Three boys were taken. Part of the 'resource acquisition' efforts Gangrel is launching." Issac noted the utter derision in Verona's voice, but also her defeated tone. She was slowly stirring the food still in her bowl, seemingly unwilling to finish her meal.
Issac walked to Verona's side. Before she could ask what he was doing, he wrapped his arms around her chest in another hug. This time, he felt her tears land on his tan shirt.
"I'm sorry." Verona shook slightly, and Issac felt his heart cracking. He held her as tightly as his child-sized body could hold. Even with his current strength score, it just made his caretaker cry harder. He looked to Gregor, silently asking for his help.
Gregor just shook his head, much to Issac's disappointment. "Other wee ones not likely to be living. Garrick is cruel; most people here not strong enough to stay living."
"So we're supposed to just give up on them?" Issac's temper flared, "We have to try and save them!"
"Does Issac know where they went?" The pale boy paused. He opened his mouth, only to be interrupted again. "Desert winds hide tracks. Rescuers get lost, then become needing rescuing."
Issac slumped, his arms slipping off of Verona's shoulders. "Then I'm still not strong enough… dammit."
Gregor gripped his shoulder, pulling him out of his spiraling thoughts. "Issac not strong enough. Yet. Get older, get bigger, be better protector. Train as much as wee one can, okay?"
Issac's gaze locked with Gregor's. "You won't recognize me the next time you see me. That's a promise."
Quest Initiated!
Objective: Impress Gregor by the time you meet him again.
Bonus Objective 1: Earn 'C' rank in at least two weapon types
Bonus Objective 2: Enter Tier 3 before you see Gregor again.
Secret Objective: ?
Reward: 15,000 EXP, ?, ?, ?
Alert! You have created your first quest. As a result, there may not be consequences for failure. This is not a guarantee, since the difficulty of your self-imposed quests may vary. For your first self-generated quest, I have negated the Failure penalty you would suffer if you don't succeed. You're welcome.
Thanks, I guess. Issac barely reacted to The Being's notification. His focus stayed on his teacher, trying to get Gregor to see his determination. He wouldn't be a disappointment. He refused!
"That is good news!" Gregor clapped Issac's back, making him cough at the force of the impact. "Gregor sees much potential in newest student. Being lazy is not for young Issac, Gregor knows." Gregor embraced Issac and Verona, silencing Verona's gentle sobs from his warmth. Eventually, he pulled back from the hug enough to hold them at arm's length.
"Gregor needs to leave. New contract starting soon. Being late not good for business!" The mercenary ruffled Issac's hair, much to his irritation. Gregor laughed, before planting a lightning-fast kiss on Verona's cheek. Her reddening face made Gregor laugh even louder, playfully leaning out of Issac's reach as he tried swiping at the older man.
"Okay, okay! Gregor not be making moves on Issac's almost-mom!" A cheeky smile etched itself on Gregor's face as he saw the slack-jawed looks on his companions faces. He moved to the front door, looking back at Issac and Verona one last time. His lips settled on a tender tilt upwards.
"Both of you be safe. Gregor wants to see you again." With that, Gregor left the domicile, leaving the two remaining residents sitting in silence for several moments.
Eventually, Issac broke the awkward silence. "S-So, what do you usually do around now, Verona?"
Startled, Verona cleared her throat. She tried to will away her blush; Issac was too young to see how badly she was affected by Gregor. He was far from an adult, despite his training. "We're going to take care of as many people as we can."
Issac smirked. This was it! He was going to do something grand! His training would finally pay off. What kinds of beasts would he be fighting?!
"This is all we get? I have four kids, Verona!"
"I'm sorry, Baram. That's all I can give out. Supplies from the capital are limited. We have to make this last the rest of the month." Verona's lips were drawn into a frown. Baram, holding a bag that looked suspiciously light for five people to share, was simmering. Just as quickly, he deflated, leaving the ramshackle storehouse with a much slower gait than he entered.
Issac breathed a sigh of relief. That was the third argument that had started in the past ten minutes. The pale Plegian hadn't realized how badly people were doing. With everyone shuffling to the counter, he saw their hopes diminish just a little more. They left with barely a handful of food per person. It wouldn't last two days, much less the week that they needed to wait for the next shipment to come into town.
In his head, he knew that Graycott wasn't very well off. Even so, he thought that being so close to the border would have given the village a higher priority than an afterthought. Something felt odd about this whole situation.
When the crowd finally dispersed, Issac caught Verona's eye. Seeing the silent question in her young charge, she sighed. "I know. I've asked myself the same thing every day."
"Then you have to have answers by now, right?"
Verona glared at the cracked wooden crate that held the village's supplies. Issac leaned back, half-convinced the timber would spontaneously ignite.
"I have a few guesses." Verona turned her head upwards, the wrinkles in her face sinking deeper into her skin. "We have no precious resources to mine. No great mages have come from here. None of the prominent members of the church give a damn about us, either. The few of us fit for military service get recruited into 'skirmishing forces'. Once they leave, they don't come back."
Issac stared at Verona. The venom in her tone was foreign to him; he had never imagined her capable of holding a grudge that strong. It was becoming more and more apparent that Gangrel wasn't as universally beloved by Plegians as he initially thought.
"So…" Issac started. "What can we do? We can't just let this keep happening."
Verona scoffed. "Nothing. There's nothing to be done. We don't have anything to bargain for, trade with, or pull favors from anyone. All we can do is stretch our food until the next shipment arrives at the end of the week."
Her face fell into her hands, an exhausted sigh escaping her. Slapping her cheeks, she cleared her throat. "But that doesn't mean we give up! There'll always be a way to work things out. We just need to make it to the next day."
Issac eyed Verona as she walked out of the warehouse. After a brief pause, he rushed after her, walking beside his caretaker.
He had wondered why nobody had tried stealing the food, but there was hardly anything to steal. Even if someone did, the retaliation from the other villagers would be vicious. It seemed like the people here weren't desperate enough to throw their lives away just yet.
A huddled form sitting in front of Verona's house broke him from his thoughts. She was leaning against the side of the building in a vain attempt to shield herself from the midday sun. Dirty blonde hair hid her face, scraps of oversized clothing draped over her like a tattered blanket. Her arms were worryingly thin, and her bare feet were likely blistering against the sand at that very moment.
Before Verona could do more than raise her arm towards the child, Issac was already kneeling in front of the girl. He grasped her shoulders with a practiced gentleness that surprised him. When she looked at him, it took all of his restraint not to flinch; her brown eyes were completely hollow, dead to the world.
"Hey there," Issac started. When she didn't respond, he started to ramble. "I know getting tanned sounds like a good idea in the desert, but you could really burn yourself, you know?"
The lack of response from the girl made Issac's stomach drop. He had to do something to help her. What, specifically, he didn't know. All he knew was that not being able to get her to speak was making his insides feel itchy and hot.
Suddenly, the girl looked up, a spark of recognition flickering across her eyes as she looked up at Verona.
"Ellie?" Verona said. "What are you doing here? Where are your parents?" She wrapped her arms around the girl (Ellie, Issac reminded himself) and pulled her into the same comforting embrace she gave him when he first awoke. Ellie's shoulders started shaking, her tears spilling silently on Verona's blouse.
"G-Gone," Ellie whispered. Her trembling made her words stumble over each other. "They went a-after Adrian four days ago. They didn't w-want him to fight for G-Garrick. They said if they didn't g-get back in three days, I'm supposed to s-stay with y-you until they come home."
The hand rubbing Ellie's back stopped for a moment, quickly resuming its soothing motion. "Oh, sweetie. It'll be alright. I'm sure they'll be back soon."
Issac opened his mouth, but his words froze at the stern look Verona gave him. Drawing his lips in a thin line, he opened the door, the pair of women following shortly behind him. In short order, Issac went to the eternally-heated pot above the fire and poured three bowls of stew.
With nobody willing to start a conversation, the three people at the table shared a silent meal. Ellie was at least able to stomach some food, even if it was at a snails' pace compared to the others at the table.
When Issac finished eating, he stared at Ellie. The food didn't improve her mood much, if at all. Her eyes watered, tears filling her eyes. He glanced at Verona, and saw the older woman's fists balling up. Clearly, she felt as helpless as he did.
Slowly, a plan formed in Issac's mind. It was probably a fool's errand, but someone had to do something.
"Do you know which way your parents were heading in?" When Ellie's wet eyes looked up at Issac, he continued. "I can find them, if you can point me in the right direction."
Ellie's jaw dropped. Issac dutifully ignored Verona's disapproving stare. The girl blinked the tears away, sniffling.
"Y-You really mean it? Can you bring them back home?" The desperation in her voice made Issac wilt internally.
"I'll find them. If I can bring them back to the village, I will."
Quest Initiated!
Objective: Find Ellie's family members.
Bonus Objectives: ?, ?
Reward: Improved relationship with Ellie, ?, ?
Failure: No relationship possible with Ellie, Death.
Fan-fucking-tastic. What kind of crap are you going to pull off this time, Oh Mysterious One? Issac barely kept the grimace off his face. Knowing that death was on the table again meant this was going to be a more serious mission than he thought.
Verona cleared her throat, putting a gentle hand on Ellie's shoulder. "Then we shouldn't keep you here too long. Come with me, dear; I have some supplies I can spare for a thorough search in the sands."
Mutely, Issac followed Verona to her room. He quickly took in the sparsely decorated room: a small bed shoved in one corner, a worn dresser in the opposite, and a small lockbox just barely visible through the floorboards.
The door closed just a little more firmly than necessary, making Issac jump. He turned, palms sweating immediately at the hard look Verona was giving him.
"What," she ground out, "do you think you're doing?" Issac's response was cut off before it could begin. "You're getting her hopes up for nothing. You know that, right? Garrick wouldn't let anybody like us get in his way. Her family is food for the birds by now!"
"You don't think I know that?" Issac whispered. "But I can't just sit here and do nothing. We have to at least try to make things better!."
Verona looked at Issac; he forced himself to stay still as her eyes bored into his soul. Almost a minute later, Issac received a nod.
"Very well," Verona said. She moved past him, kneeling in front of her lockbox and fiddling with the metal padlock. Issac heard a clink, followed by a creaking sound as the box opened. The caretaker turned, holding out a large, tan cloak and a pack that was nearly his own height!
"Take it." Issac strapped the pack to his back, surprised at how light it felt despite its size. Then he held the cloth in his hands, wrapping it around himself. It piled around his feet, which would make moving in the desert almost impossible.
Chuckling at her charge's irritation, Verona pulled out some string. She walked behind him, threading the string through the cloth eyelets and tying them around his boots. She stood up, ruffling his hair and enjoying his half-hearted efforts to rebuff her.
"Now you look like a real desert-walker," she cooed.
Issac grumbled something unintelligible, his face turning red from embarrassment. "Thanks." He couldn't stop the smile from spreading, his chagrin giving way to a fuzzy warmth.
"Bring plenty of water," Verona warned. "Gregor isn't around to carry all of your heavy gear this time. You'll go through it faster the longer you're in the desert."
Issac nodded. "I'll travel as lightly as possible. Head out, find Ellie's family, and bring them back home. With a bit of luck, I can be back in less than a week."
They returned to the dining area. Ellie was fidgeting in her seat, staring at them. The girl hopped down from her chair, crushing him in a surprisingly tight hug.
"Promise me!" She begged. "Promise me you'll bring them back."
Issac hesitantly patted her back. "I'll do everything I can to bring your family home. I promise." Ellie's glistening tears sent pangs of guilt straight to his gut. He wanted to promise more, but even he didn't think the odds were in his favor..
"Now, which direction did your parents go? Do you remember?"
Shakily, Ellie nodded. "Th-They went east. Mom and dad s-said they would go where Adrian went."
"East. Got it." Issac ducked under Verona's hidden storage area next to the fireplace, filling several waterskins from the large water barrel tucked in the corner. Once he filled six of them, he put all but one inside his pack. He grabbed several handfuls of dried meat and fruit, putting them in a separate part of the container.
He returned to his room, opening his own lockbox and looking at the weapons inside. His bronze ax, lance and sword were inside, as well as his iron bow (with a full quiver of twenty arrows). Taking all of his weapons would just weigh him down. Still, he needed at least a few options for self-defense.
In short order, he made his decision. His bow was held in its case across his back, unstrung next to his quiver. His sword was strapped to the side, looped through his belt.
Issac returned to the main room, where Ellie and Verona were waiting to see him off. "Be careful, Issac," Verona warned. "If you get caught in a storm, use your pack to weigh down your cloak to shield yourself."
Ellie held onto Issac's sleeve. She wasn't able to look him in the eye this time, but she still spoke. "Thank you, Issac."
The boy smiled at Ellie. "You're welcome, Ellie. I'll be back as soon as I can." He looked up at Verona. "I'll be safe. I promise."
He left the building, making his way towards the dilapidated village gates. Lifeless eyes followed him as he left Graycott. Gods be damned, he would give at least some of them a reason to look forward to the future.
Crouch. Sniff. Stalk.
Bare feet carefully balanced across cracked earth. Constant, quiet movement to remain downwind from the chosen prey.
Left. Quick! Slow. Hide.
She took cover behind a small dune, partially submerging herself inside the sands. Thankfully, the winds had not yet revealed her to her target. The sun was also setting, diminishing her prey's sight. Still, such luck would not last long. She needed to strike soon, or the fickle breeze would lengthen her current hunt. She silenced her stomach's groans. Two days without food was manageable, but far from her preferred amount of fresh meat.
The prey's horns nearly perfectly blended with the cracked stony ground. Its beady eyes were fixated on the dry brush it was eating. Luckily, the goat was an exceptionally large target; the chase would not last long. Still, silence would keep her hidden from any roaming manspawn.
Just as she went to pounce on her newest meal, she bit back a curse; a manspawn just crested over a dune. They had perfect sight of her prize. Now she had to choose between satisfying her hunger and staying hidden.
The manspawn moved his gaze across the area slowly. It seemed to be searching for something. Its eyes lingered on the goat for a moment, before continuing on and… landing on…
Her?
No. Impossible. I buried myself in the dune to avoid detection. The manspawn looks far too small and inexperienced to spot me!
And yet, the exact opposite proved true. The manspawn took a half-step back, and she was just able to see something akin to recognition in his eyes.
Recognition? That was never a good sign. It meant she had been spotted before. That meant there was someone from her previous 'encounters' who had survived. There was no other option; he had to die.
Then, the boy did something she had never seen before. He smiled. At her? He then turned to face the goat, stringing the bow that was tied to his back. With a practiced ease that was not common in one so young, he drew an arrow and loosed it.
The projectile whistled slightly as it trailed through the air. The goat stopped its chewing for a moment, turning up to find the source of the new noise. She saw its legs tense a moment too late. A wooden shaft pierced its eye, exiting through the other side of its head. The goat didn't make a sound as it fell to the side, half-eaten grass slowly slipping from slackened teeth.
"It's all yours. You look hungry."
Surprise and indignation swelled within her chest. The boys' voice was as young as she had imagined; he could not be more than thirteen summers. He pulled his hood back, revealing a pale face that significantly contrasted his dark brown eyes. There was little of the youthful fat still clinging to his face; the boy must take his training quite seriously.
"Panne? Are you okay?"
Anger and fear struck her at once. How did he come to learn her name?! She burst from her hiding spot, grateful there were only a few dozen feet between herself and the boy. He tried to nock a second arrow, but she swiped the bow out of his hands before he could start his next draw.
Panne pinned the boy to the ground, the sand puffing upwards with how hard he hit the dune. He tried to grab a sword strapped to his side, but she forced his hand stuck against his side.
Pathetic. Unable to defend himself, even at range. I must eliminate him. One bite will be enough. He would make a good sna‒
"Wait! I need your help! Please!"
Panne's jaw paused, inches from piercing his throat. She inhaled his scent; she smelled anxiety rolling down his body like sweat. More importantly, she couldn't catch even a whiff of deceit from the boy. She drew herself up, still trapping his arms to his sides with her legs.
"First," she said. "You will tell me how you know my name."
The boy squirmed. "There's no time! You're the only way I can find t‒!"
He choked as Panne pressed harder against his sides, her eyes very nearly burning his soul. "My. Name. Answer me, or you will be my first meal."
"O-Okay!" The boy wheezed, struggling to catch his breath. "Someone told me about you. Panne, the last Taguel in the world. Always fleeing from mankind to avoid being turned into a pelt on some fat nobleman's shoulders."
Panne growled. Two manspawn? One was bad enough.
"Who told you that?!"
"I don't know!"
"Lies!" Panne put a hand inside a pouch strapped to her side. Letting the familiar warmth of her transformation envelop her. She landed on all fours, large white rabbit ears hanging just above her black-furred body. Bright red eyes flashed as she pushed the boy deeper into the sand.
"You will tell me who the other manspawn is. Or I will rip you apart before I find them and do the same."
Her captured victim stopped squirming. A scowl forced itself onto his face, teeth clenched in easily discernible rage.
"If you can find them, tear out their guts for me! I'm telling you, I don't know who they are!"
At that admission, Panne tilted her head to the side. In her animal form, her senses were so heightened she could feel his heartbeat through the sands of the increasingly displaced dune. Despite that, she still couldn't smell any falsehood from him. Cautiously, she stepped a single pace backwards.
"I cannot smell any lies from you, manspawn."
He coughed, spitting wet sand from his mouth. He rubbed his throat, taking in deep breaths. "Because I'm not." The sand-dweller slowly stood upright, picking up his bow and strapping it to his back. "I don't know who he is. Some sort of mage that loves sending me cryptic messages. Asshole."
Panne opened her mouth to respond, but the boy was not paying attention to her. Or, rather, he was clearly captivated by something below her face. A growl started building in her throat.
"No, that was a shitty joke. Shut up so I don't get myself killed."
Panne paused, her foot frozen mid-step. The boy was… talking to someone? She focused more intently on his eyes; they roved from side to side and back again, as if reading a tome. The child may have told the truth from the beginning.
Or madness had struck early. That was a much more likely option.
The boy sighed, dragging a hand down his face. "Sorry. You must think I'm crazy." He pulled out a waterskin, taking small sips from the leather container. Without screwing the cap back on, he held it out towards her.
"Here, take some. The desert has to be murder on your fur."
Ignoring the strange turn of phrase, Panne cautiously took the offered sack. She sniffed the container, relaxing minutely when she smelled no hidden toxins. Water flowed past her lips, the stale taste of goatskin enhancing the flavor of the liquid within. In moments, she had swallowed the entirety of the waterskins' contents.
Panne pulled the waterskin from her mouth, handing it back to the boy with her lips pressed in a thin line. "Apologies. I did not intend to deprive you of your resources."
To Panne's surprise, the child had pulled out a second skin, taking a few more sips before putting it away. "No worries. This desert is awful." His eyes flickered briefly past her. "We should take care of the goat before the vultures arrive, though. Sound good?"
Panne nodded. "Of course. It was your kill. What to do with it is your choice."
The boy flashed a bright smile. "Great! Let's get a fire going." With that, he dashed down the dune, leaving a bewildered Taguel behind.
A manspawn who shares his hunt? How strange. She carefully descended to the base of the dune, her eyes constantly scanning the area for any potential ambush.
The desert-child was breaking branches from the surrounding bushes, his focus completely centered on gathering kindling. In short order, a pile of sticks and larger branches were bundled together on stone ground. The boy then struck two pieces of metal against each other, sparks landing on and igniting the timber. He pulled out a knife, pausing as he knelt in front of the goat.
"I, uh," he stammered, "I've never cut up an animal before." He turned towards her. "Any chance you know how to do this?"
With a raised brow, Panne thrust her hand inside the goat's shoulder, tearing out a chunk of meat. She found it amusing how his face paled even further when she swallowed her meal raw.
"I have never needed to cook my meals."
The child shuddered. "Right, Taguel. Eugh." Sighing, he slashed at the animal's ribs awkwardly, pulling a handful of long, thin strips of meat. To the side, he stabbed two sticks on opposite sides of the strips, holding them above the fire.
"I'm Issac, by the way. Sorry for not saying so earlier."
The Taguel tore out a chunk from the goat's other shoulder, satisfied with the way the blood dribbled down her chin. Her gnawing hunger finally abated as she swallowed her second helping.
Panne's amusement grew as she watched Issac struggle to avoid burning his meal. His arms shook while he flipped the wooden stakes upside down. The meat slipped off the sticks, landing in the fire with a sizzle.
"It seems you are unused to this. Are all manspawn children so helpless?"
Issac frowned. "I'm not helpless. It's my first time doing anything like this."
Panne's head tilted to the side. "I learned how to hunt when I was half your age. Mankind has gone softer than I imagined."
"This was my kill, in case you forgot."
A smirk graced Panne's lips. "Killing is only half the hunt. Consuming its flesh afterwards makes you a true hunter."
Issac was about to retort, before spinning to the fire again. "Crap!" He pulled out his sword, stabbing it into the flames and pulling out the now-burned meal. Staring at the charred strips, Issac bit into the charred game. His face screwed in distaste, obviously not enjoying his poorly cooked prize. To his credit, he continued to eat the tough meat.
Panne approved. Being inept at preparing one's food was shameful. Wasting your kill was far worse.
"So," Issac said, speaking around his food. "Still planning on beating answers out of me? You must have more questions."
Panne swallowed the last of her portion, unapologetic. "My experiences with your kind have usually been far more negative than this."
Issac nodded. "That's okay. You're not you when you're hungry."
Now it was Panne's turn to frown. "I do not understand. Do manspawn become someone else when they require sustenance?"
She was further confused when Issac sighed. "Forget it. Just an inside joke."
Issac's mood seemed to fall; his eyes turned glassy, tears threatening to fall. Panne did not know what the best course of action was. She was unable to have the luxury of mourning, even at Issac's age. Survival was paramount, taking precedence over everything else.
Still, she was capable of admitting that she was slightly indebted to the child. He had shared his water and his kill, even after she attacked him. There must be something that could break him out of his thoughts.
Hadn't he asked for her help?
"Who are you looking for?"
Issac jolted upright, pushing away the water from his eyes. "R-Right. Sorry." He swallowed, clearing his throat before speaking again. "I'm trying to find someone named Adrian. He was taken from my village by some bandits about a week ago. His parents left a few days later to bring him home."
"What does this Adrian look like? If you have something that belonged to him, I may be able to track his scent."
"He‒" Issac froze. Groaning, he buried his face in his hands. "I'm a moron! I didn't think of doing either of those things! God, Ellie's gonna kill me."
Seeing Panne's question on her face, Issac sighed. "Ellie is Adrian's brother. She begged me to find him. I can't believe I never thought to ask what he even looked like!"
Panne stood, moving to crouch in front of Issac. "We will find him. You have my word."
Issac looked up at her in confusion. "You're going to help me? Just like that?"
Panne's face deadpanned. "I will not be indebted to a manspawn."
"Indebted? What did I do?"
Very deliberately, Panne turned until she was facing the half-eaten goat several meters away. Issac followed her look, flushing when he caught onto her meaning.
"Ah."
"The more manspawn I encounter, the more I find myself questioning the intelligence of your species as a whole."
"Hey! Cut me some slack," Issac blushed. "I've never met a Taguel before today." His crestfallen look from earlier had disappeared entirely. The tension in Panne's shoulders loosened, grateful he would not lose himself to misery.
"That is understandable." Panne looked up, seeing the sun dipping below the dune they had their earlier confrontation. "We will rest for a few hours. Then, we will start moving before the sun rises."
"That's… fair," Issac said. "We need to cover as much ground as possible before the sun starts burning us."
With a plan agreed upon, human and Taguel laid down to get what sleep they could. Questions burning in Panne's mind remained unspoken. It was likely that answers would become known to her as she spent more time around this strange manspawn.
The woman closed her eyes, entering a trance-like state. She would acquire most of the rest she needed, while still having access to her superior hearing. It had served her well in the forests of Ylisse, and would do the same in the Plegian sands.
Three days. Three goddamn days, and nothing to show for it.
At least you know where not to look?
Shut up, 'Supreme Being.'
If I wasn't a bigger man, I'd be offended.
You're a floating textbox.
Ooh, scathing!
Issac clicked his tongue, irritation growing. This quest was really starting to grate on his nerves. Almost everything seemed to be working against him.
He was running low on food and water. He didn't know what Adrian looked like. He didn't have any of Panne's possessions for Panne to track the scent from. Panne almost killed him!
Using his Observe skill made him realize just how outclassed he was. Again.
Panne, The Last Taguel
Tier 2, Level 1
Age: 22
HP: 40
STR: 20
MAG: 5
SKL: 23
SPD: 25
LK: 19
DEF: 18
RES: 15
Then, he embarrassed himself with his lack of survival skills the first night they met. He hadn't messed up cooking the remnants of the goat quite that badly since that night, but that meat was nearly gone.
Don't forget how you spilled the beans on little old me. It's a good thing Panne doesn't have anyone who would believe what a 'Coney' says!
Don't remind me. Issac knew he put his mission at serious risk when he confessed the existence of his… patron, for lack of a better word. Panne was very perceptive; she caught on quickly when he read the words from the Invisible Man. Maybe he could pay for her silence.
You do have a hundred gold at your disposal.
Yeah, but how do I get access to it?
Pull it from your inventory, dumbass!
Issac paused. He held out his hand right in front of his chest. He imagined himself pulling out his hundred gold.
A cloth sack clinked as it fell onto his hands. Issac's eye twitched.
"I could do that the whole time!?"
"Do what, manspawn?"
Shit. Issac quickly tied the bag of gold to his belt before looking at Panne. She was a few paces behind him, so she didn't see what he had done. The look she sent him, however, was keener than he wanted looking at him.
"I could have gone to Themis and hired a party to find Adrian, instead of wandering aimlessly for a week."
Panne scoffed. "Ylissean manspawn are less reliable than the bandits we are searching for; the behavior of thieves are far more predictable than the 'noble' knights."
Issac nearly face-palmed at his careless words. Of course Panne would take offense to that idea; they had driven her race to near extinction.
"Sorry. I'm just running out of time."
Panne nodded, her face mostly passive as she considered his words. "That is understandable. Desperation can make a manspawn commit to foolish decisions."
Issac fell silent from her words. He started walking again, Panne following several feet behind him.
Few words were spoken since their initial meeting. Most of their conversations were one word questions and answers. This was the most they had spoken to each other in the past two and a half days. Issac knew Panne was quiet, but she bordered on severe.
She's hardly asked anything about me. I can only hope it stays that way; I doubt I could stall her for long. Not without a distraction.
"Halt, manspawn. I smell others."
Cue distraction. "Other people?" Hope filled Issac as she nodded.
"Yes." The hesitant look on her face made him pause. "They carry a rotten stench."
Rotten? Issac's face lost what little color it had. That was too morbid to mean anything good. He strung his bow, preparing for a possible ambush.
"Which way?" Issac said. Panne pointed, and Issac dashed up a fairly large dune. He nearly fell on his face more than once, but he kept himself upright long enough to reach the crest of the dune. When he reached the top, however, he quickly wished he hadn't.
Below, bodies littered the ground. Issac counted over a dozen corpses, all of which were covered in wounds. He sprinted downhill, tripping and rolling down the dune. His momentum was stopped by one of the bodies. Issac cleared his swimming vision, blinking as the details became more clear with proximity.
Ten Ylissean soldiers lay down on the field, their blue militia uniforms sporting a variety of tears and punctures from different types of weapons. Five were burly Plegian bandits, all of them surrounded by the Ylisseans. Even outnumbered, Issac's countrymen seemed to be more capable than his eastern neighbors.
Then again, axes always did beat lances in the game.
At the edge of the conflict, a trio of bodies made Issac swallow a sudden lump in his throat. A thinner, younger Plegian lay atop a half-starved man and woman. The teenager's dirty blonde hair was uncomfortably reminiscent of Ellie's locks.
Observe.
Adrian, Ellie's brother
Shahla, Ellie's mother
Ranen, Ellie's father
"We must leave. Now."
Issac startled, looking back at Panne. Her ears and nose were twitching, as if she had noticed something.
"What is it?" Issac asked. He strung his bow, making space so he could have easy access to his quiver of arrows.
Panne's gaze remained fixed towards the horizon. "A sandstorm is coming. We must take shelter immediately."
"In a minute," Issac said. "I found who I was looking for."
"We don't have time." Panne exhaled sharply, flaring her nostrils. "A storm like this will suffocate us in minutes. We have to go. Now."
Issac followed Panne's gaze. Sure enough, there was a wall of dust and dirt barreling in their direction. He knelt in front of Adrian's body, rifling through his pockets. "Not yet. I need more time."
A strong hand yanked him up until he was standing. Panne glared at Issac, her eyes burning dangerously.
"Foolish manspawn! Are you so eager to throw your life away for the dead?"
Issac seethed. "I. Have. To do this."
Panne practically snarled. "Foolish manspawn. Why are you so eager to throw away your life?!"
"It's my fault!" Issac pulled his arm out of Panne's grasp. Not that he was even remotely strong enough to do so on his own; the Taguel woman's grip had slackened enough for his wrist to slip through her fingers.
I didn't know what Adrian or his parents looked like. I didn't think to bring something they owned for Panne or tracking dogs to trace the scent of. Issac started heaving. And now I have to look Ellie in the eye and…
Issac fell to his knees, hyperventilating. He had to look Ellie in the eye and tell her that she was an orphan. Tell her that she was alone. Tell her that he had failed her.
Why in the world did he make that promise in the first place?
Nails dug into his shoulders, pulling him out of his downward spiral. "We cannot help what has already happened." Panne shook him gently before he could protest. "We will find shelter. Once the storm has passed, we will return."
Issac stared at Panne, searching for any hint of deceit. The Taguel didn't hurry him, although he saw her ears twitching as the sound of the oncoming sandstorm finally reached his human ears. Already, the wind had picked up speed, and bits of sand smacked against his legs.
"Okay," Issac said. "We'll wait out the storm."
Panne released him, letting the tension leak from her shoulders. She turned, walking away from the carnage surrounding them. Issac followed, curious to see if she knew of a hideaway in the area.
One step later, a hand shot out from the sand, wrapping around Issac's ankle.
A purple hand.
"Panne?" The tremor in his voice made Panne pause. Issac's yelp made her spin, giving her the sight of a ghastly creature emerging from the sand. It pulled the boy towards him, raising its other wicked claw to strike.
Issac pulled out his sword, stabbing through the monsters' hand. It ignored the wound, the black dust pouring from the puncture not slowing it down in the slightest. It started pushing against Issacs' arms until its clawed fingers threatened to pierce his chest.
A black and white blur crashed against the monster, knocking it off of Issac. Miraculously, he held onto his sword. He watched as Panne‒now in her rabbit form‒sank her teeth into the creatures' neck. More dust escaped its throat, and it disappeared entirely.
Issac was panting, shakily coming to his feet as Panne tilted her head. He held his sword at the ready, the bronze blade held in front of him in a two-handed grip.
"What was that?" Panne said, her voice buzzing from her transformation.
"That thing rose from the dead." Issac's mind whirled, trying to come up with something that wouldn't draw more suspicion. "Powerful magic has to be the cause."
Ten pairs of hands burst from the ground, blindly swiping in search of prey.
Outnumbered five to one? Goddamnit.
Observe.
5x Tier 1, Level 6 Revenants
3x Tier 1, Level 16 Revenants
2x Tier 2, Level 5 Revenants
Without hesitation, Panne swiped her claws at the revenants on the edges, quickly killing another of the monsters in seconds.
Issac, determined to contribute, plunged his sword through the sand. Luck turned in his favor this time, and he landed a fatal blow. The hands that threatened to crush him disappeared in a cloud of dust.
Revenant killed! Gain 300 EXP.
The remaining revenants had unearthed themselves, turning the fight into a frenzied struggle of survival for Issac.
He ducked under a clawed swipe, slashing his blade across the offending arm. The strike connected, but he was forced to dodge a flanking attack from two more of the creatures.
Issac ran backwards, sheathing his sword as he pulled out his bow. Trembling fingers fumbled with his quiver. He grabbed two arrows, firing both at the same time.
Both arrows sailed harmlessly above their target's heads.
Biting back a curse, Issac forced himself to stop his shaking. Carefully, he grasped a single arrow, launching it at the nearest revenant. His aim was true, disappearing halfway inside its chest. When it continued its advance, Issac fired another arrow. This one went through its throat, and a third one was defeated.
Thought was replaced by instinct. Surrounded once more by three undead, Issac started slashing with his bronze sword. His blade cut into the enemy in front of him, only to turn and block a strike from behind. With a heave of effort, Issac shoved the appendage away, only to cry out as a clawed hand slashed across his back.
-3 HP!
The flat of Issac's blade smacked against the offending appendage, leaving his opponent unbalanced and vulnerable to a lethal thrust at its gaping maw. Purple-black dust coated the boy's front, with some of the offending material choking him. He fell to his knees, the coughing fit saving him from yet another lunging attack.
Revenant X2 killed! Gain 600 EXP.
Not now! I need to focus!
Black spots clouded Issac's vision. The weapon in his hand dragged him towards the ground. Rolling forward, Issac slashed at a second beast's legs. While not debilitating‒he once again cursed his child body‒it slowed his opponent, leaving him with only one-and-a-half enemies.
By comparison, Panne positively danced between her foes. Lumbering shuffles barely caught her notice. Fur-covered claws sliced chests, severed heads, and punctured hearts with little effort, for the most part.
Two of the ashen enemies had far more impressive constitutions than their peers. While disappointed by the lack of blood being spilled, their superior constitution allowed the Taguel to enjoy the challenge that the larger beasts provided.
Still, she needed to finish this engagement soon. Already, she could see bits of sand swirling in the air. If she took much longer, her vision would be compromised. With a burst of speed, she ripped off a head, leaping off of the decapitated body to plunge her claws through the death-scented body.
"Panne! Help!"
Sand shifted under her foot as she spun, eyes narrowing. Across the pile of corpses, Issac was trapped between the last of the beasts. One was injured, but not significantly, and the other was unharmed. The Taguel dashed across the pile of corpses and strewn weapons, blinking away the dust stinging her eyes and closing the distance in seconds. Panne was quick.
But not quite quick enough.
Time slowed to a crawl as Issac cried out again. His screams of pain mixed with fear sent a jolt of panic through the Taguel. Growling, her teeth tore off the head of the beast who dealt the blow. With barely a glance, her hind legs snapped the already-injured ghoul in half. Both monsters gave ghastly groans as they disappeared into dust.
Panne looked down at Issac. Three deep claw marks had ripped across his chest, stretching from his right shoulder to left hip. Blood trailed down his front, his already pale skin turning nearly white. More of his life essence dripped behind him; the boy had suffered a similar blow to his back, as well.
The Plegian boy shook, his eyes fading in and out of focus. He smiled, his relief from her rescue obvious. For all of his lacking martial strength, his spirit was strong.
Impressive. For a man-spawn.
The boy opened his mouth, but his next words were unintelligible as the storm crashed into them. Panne reverted to her human form, dashing to him as he started reaching towards his throat.
"My cloak," he rasped, fumbling as he tried to undo the clasp holding his cloak with one hand. His other hand tried to cover his gaping wounds, to little effect.
Panne took his cloak off. "You are dying." Her nose and ears twitched. His scent was growing fainter, and his heartbeat was slowing. "We must find shelter."
The winds shrieked around the pair, the fine grains causing human and Taguel pain and discomfort, respectively. Panne wrapped his oversized cloak around them. The winds quieted to a mild howling as they trudged through the storm.
"There!" Panne's keen senses were just able to make out a rock outcropping in the distance. She dragged Issac forward, his legs struggling to move towards a shelter that he couldn't see.
Blood loss drained Issac's strength with every step. Panne's support was the only reason he remained upright, though he knew that wouldn't last long. Just before he collapsed, the winds blowing in his face suddenly stopped assaulting him.
"We made it." Panne guided Issac to the ground, far more gently than he had expected. Huddled beneath his cloak, Panne pulled out a small vial. It was a medicinal concoction, one that she had hidden for emergencies. With deft movements, she tore off the strips of the tattered shirt that had stuck to Issac.
"This will hurt," she warned, uncorking the vial with her teeth.
Issac nodded weakly, and Panne poured the liquid directly onto his wounds. Issac bit down his scream as molten fire spread across his front. In a matter of moments, his wounds sealed themselves shut. Based on the frown still on her face, Issac knew he would be left with scars.
He sighed in relief, hissing in renewed pain as Issac's back touched the ground. In a flash, Panne flipped him so his back was facing her. Liquid fire filled his first wound. This time, a scream ripped its way through his throat. His hands gripped her legs, heaving shuddering breaths as tears spilled over her thighs.
"'M sorry," Issac mumbled, his voice swallowed by the roaring winds around them. Panne silently moved the cloak to cover his face, blocking the swirling sands from striking the injured boy.
"Thank you." He turned to face her, his lips twitching in a faltering grin. "You saved me."
Panne's red eyes stared into his. "You fought well enough," she said, a twitch of her lips gracing her normally stern face. "For a man-spawn child."
"High praise indeed." Coughing, Issac still managed a laugh. "I'll save you, one day. Just you wait."
"Rest," Panne commanded, her tone gentle and firm. "The storm will pass by morning."
Issac closed his eyes, the Taguel's warmth soothing his weary body. Instinctively, he nestled closer to her. Resting on Panne's shoulder, he couldn't help but think that as far as near death experiences went, this was far more terrifying than fighting bandits with Gregor. The scars across his front‒and likely the one on his back‒would tell quite the story as he grew older.
Assuming, of course, that 'God' gave him a break after everything he's gone through.
Long time no see, everyone! Life has thrown me another set of curveballs, and I just finished getting through them all. This chapter has been half-finished for a month, and I wrapped up the rest of this chapter last week. Cue two editing passes, and boom! Here we are.
Let me know what you guys think of this chapter. I hope you enjoy the reading at least half as much as I did with the writing. I'll see you all next month at the latest with the next one!