“Low!” he called, his sword swing for my feet.
I slammed shield down, trapping the sword on the ground only to catch the sergeant’s fist in my face. I swear I saw a flash of lightning when his fist struck.
“That really hurts! What am I doing wrong here?” I asked, anger starting to get the better of me.
“Take your stance,” he ordered simply.
Three more attacks and blocks, each followed by me getting knocked to the ground rather painfully. And the only thing he said to me was “Take your stance” as if saying it again would explain what I was supposed to do.
I took my stance again.
“Left!” he called.
It was time to try something different. Every time I had to move my shield I would get thumped pretty hard and it was getting to be more than irritating. This time I didn’t move my shield from in front of me, this time I moved all of me to align the shield with the attack. I blocked and suddenly it made sense. I only had to pivot this time to intercept the second attack. I was so pleased with my success, I didn’t see the third attack coming until I was once again on my back and looking skyward.
“Take your stance,” he ordered again, except this time he was grinning a little bit. The man was a sadist, no doubt about it. But boy, if he didn’t know his weapons training.
It took almost another hour of getting used to shifting and pivoting into blocks when attacks came from the left or right. Then to figure out I needed to retreat from an overhead strike and a low strike had to be shifted into, which naturally led me to use ‘Shield Slam’. This even got a nod of approval from the sergeant. It was definitely the most brutal training session so far.
“Good, grab a drink then pick up a staff, you might actually hurt me with this training if you were to have a sharpened weapon,” ordered the sergeant, backing off and giving me a little room to catch my breath.
I was only too happy to gorge on the water, even pouring some over my head and bruised arms. Healing spells took care of the lost HP and could mend broken bones, but it still took time for the bruises to vanish, another one of Mitchell Dawson’s brilliant ideas. However, I couldn’t say the man was wrong. Pain was a great teacher and an even better motivator.
“Now, you know how to block the attacks coming at you. Counterattacking, just like the ‘Shield Slam’ skill, is all about picking your moment. Wait too long, and I will just keep attacking. Attack too soon, and you open yourself up to even more pain,” he explained, finally providing at least a little instruction.
The staff was slightly shorter than my spear and thicker around, but the weight was almost the same. It took me a second to adjust to the length but otherwise, I had myself in my stance and ready to start within a minute or two.
This time there was no call out of an attack direction. There was no way for me to expect what was coming. I had to react on instinct and the muscle memory the training had imparted to me.
It took practice to get adjusted to blocking while holding the ‘spear’ but after a few attacks and blocks I gained a level of comfort, I started looking for the opening to counter. My first counter came on an overhead strike, I shifted back away from it and as soon as the arc passed, I shifted in and struck, the ‘spear’ striking the sergeant in the shoulder spinning him slightly, but not enough to distract him for long.
I was quick to reset my stance even as the next strike came, this one from the left. I shifted to put my shield in front of it, then attacked before he could spin the attack into my right side.
It continued for a while before the sergeant called it a day. “Not bad work today. Same time tomorrow?”
I was about to protest, I hadn’t learned a skill yet, then I notice the flashing exclamation points. The system hadn’t told me the previous day when I had learned ‘Stealth’, so maybe it was going to stop popping up certain notifications. It must be some kind of setting for the game, maybe a tutorial mode I had unknowingly completed, and therefore wasn’t going to be told about every little change, unless it was urgent. And it seemed anything related to skills was no longer considered urgent.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, same time,” I agreed. I took a minute to fill all three of my empty stamina canteens then sat down to rest for a few minutes. Today’s session had been brutal, I felt achy all over from it. Mitchell Dawson, you are a real piece of work.
I finally checked the system notifications, and a long list it was. Apparently, my brutal training session yielded massive rewards. My Strength, Dexterity, and Stamina had all hit the level cap of 40 points, and my Endurance had increased to 68 points out of the 80 possible. And I had learned the subskill ‘Shield-Counter’, almost thirty minutes ago. This was in addition to several level increases to both ‘Phalanx Shield’ and ‘One-Handed Polearms’ skills.
Phalanx Shield
Level: 19
Experience: 15.44%
Current Defense Modifiers
Block Chance: +0.90%
Critical Block Chance: +0.45%
Subskill: Shield Slam
Damage: 8-9 Effect: Interrupt
Skill Stamina Cost: 39
Subskill: Shield-Counter
Block Chance: 29.50% Cooldown: 30 seconds
Skill Stamina Cost: 44
‘Shield-Counter’ was costly but for almost a 30% chance of blocking it was worth it even with the cooldown.
On my way back to the inn, I stopped at Ned’s Sundry again. I bought another notebook, this one much larger, to use as a sketchpad and hopefully later as a map book. I also refilled on enriched mana water, as I was still empty from the previous day’s excursion to the Johnson farm.
It was just before noon when I returned to the inn. I asked Dogson for some lunch to be brought to my room which he agreed to with a simple nod.
I sat once more with the chair by the window and my feet propped up on the bed. I had thought about this for a while, or at least since the mayor first told me about writing, thought about what I would write. I could write my strategies and game plans. I could simply write a novel or maybe a short story, but I didn’t have any ideas for something original. Then it struck me, there was a story I could write a personal story, my story or rather my game story. I put pencil to paper and I started writing. I wrote first of my arrival and immediate death then continued from there. Lunch arrived just as I finished writing the first paragraph on Day 1, I was just about to begin my introduction to ‘Old Benji’.
Lunch was a simple sandwich, ham, lettuce, and tomato with a spicy mayo. Happy for the simple flavor, reminding me of the real world, I sat and savored it. It also gave me a little time to reflect on the old fisherman, I could picture him, sitting happily along the river bank, just casting and reeling back in, smiling contentedly.
Without meaning to, I’d drawn an image of the man fishing on the next page, a portrait of his face smiling just as I’d imagined. Now, I’m not much of an artist in real life, I couldn’t draw a portrait to save my life, but this was a good drawing, in my opinion, thank you game assist. Giving it a moment more thought, I couldn’t help but smile, it was a good idea.
I went back to writing my Day 1 entry. Once I got to the bottom of the page and continued on the page after Old Benji’s picture and continued my story. When I got to Gavin and my first meeting, I couldn’t help but draw a smaller picture of the slumped over guard in his little hut, little cartoonish snot bubble coming from his nose showing he was asleep and not dead.
My story continued, my meeting with Dogson, his image, my first training session with Sergeant Butters, meeting the mayor and his wife, all with portraits included.
By the time I finished Day 4, today, it was already dark outside. My game clock told me it was 8:38 pm. Realizing I only had about 20 minutes to get dinner before they stopped serving, I closed my book and rushed to dinner.
While I ate, I reviewed my system notifications for my two new professions and the several levels they both gained.
You’ve learned a new profession ‘
Writing’
Writing
Level: 8
Experience: 97.99%
Professional Skill: Writing is the ability to communicate through the written word.
You’ve learned a new profession ‘Drawing’
Drawing
Level: 9
Experience: 16.55%
Professional Skill: Drawing is the ability to communicate through drawn images.
Somehow, I got the feeling the only reason they both advanced as much as they did is because I was telling my personal story, sharing my personal memories and feelings. At this pace, I’d be able to evolve both Writing and Drawing soon. Things were getting interesting now.
I finished dinner, took a bath and went to bed happy with my day’s progress.
***
A new day and same problems. Mostly the same cursed bird. I could feel I was losing the war to not execute the demon fowl. I’d have to talk to Dogson about this before there was another incident.
Breakfast was lighter than I’ve had the last few days. Of course, it helps I didn’t get drunk the night before, so no hangover cure required. I also didn’t stay up and socialize so there were no gains to charisma either. It didn’t take long before I was out the door and, on my way to meet with Sergeant Butters.
I was content to enjoy the short walk from the inn to the barracks, only to halt when I saw the stocks. The same stocks that held the troll I had captured two days prior. The stocks that still held the troll I had given water to just the day before. The stocks that were now holding a headless troll, or at least mostly headless. The lower jaw with its two large tusks and neck were still there, which was a disturbing sight to see, more so with the greenish-blue blood sprayed everywhere. I looked for the guard that was supposed to be watching the prisoner, but he was nowhere in sight.
“Sergeant Butters!” I yelled as loudly as I could, hoping he’d hear me from around the back of the barracks. It only took a moment for the Sergeant to come tearing around the building, his armor-clad boots and legs clanking the whole way.
Butters saw the same thing I did, but ran for the barracks, instead of halting as I did, to stare in shock. The barracks doors opened with a loud bang, followed by more loud banging as Sergeant Butters hammered at the door with his boot. “Up, all you worthless knuckle-draggers, you sorry sacks, get up right now!”
Less than a minute later, the entire garrison, or those not currently guarding one of the gates, had assembled in front of the building, in various stages of undress.
“Gunderson, why in the name of all the gods and goddesses were you sleeping?” demanded Butters, getting right up in the guard’s face.
“Davies relieved me. Told me you sent him,” he answered, his voice shaking slightly. It was obvious to me he was terrified.
“Are you kidding me?” demanded Butters, his face turning slightly red, his eye seemed to develop a twitch, it reminded me of an old anime trope. If it hadn’t been so serious I may have laughed. As it was, I was afraid to say anything. I could only imagine how the man being stared down felt. Butters was just inches away from Gunderson’s face already glaring into the man’s eyes. “In the five years you have been under my command, have I ever sent in a relief guard?”
“No, sergeant,” he answered, his voice quavering a slightly.
Butters glared at the guardsman harder, his forehead now pressing into the uncomfortable guard’s forehead. Eventually, he relented only to glare at the rest of the platoon. “Now where is Guard Davies?”
The other guards looked around at each other before one of the men I hadn’t interacted much with yet answered. “He is not here.”
“Well then, do you not think you all better find him?” Butters asked, but after a few seconds of inaction, he yelled. “Now!”
It was a mad dash for the guards to get back into the barracks only to emerge moments later with their gear, some of it equipped but mostly the pieces were tucked under an arm as they were trying to finish equipping the armor as they ran off to start the search for their missing comrade.
“Bye-bye, I am afraid we will not be able to train today,” said Butters, turning to face me. I’d never seen the man look so grim.
I knew I would regret asking this even if it would lead to a quest, I could feel it in my bones. “What can I do to help?”
Butters looked appreciative of my offer, his mouth curving just slightly before turning grim once more. “You are a good lad, see if you can help the men find their missing compatriot.” He then handed me a green not-quite candle thing. My prompt told me it was a ‘Green Smoke Beacon’ and I had to pull the string to activate it.
Quest Alert: Missing in Action 1 (Recommended Level 4-5)
Guard Davies has gone missing under suspicious circumstances. Help the garrison locate the missing guard. Activate the green smoke beacon if you find the missing soldier.
Reward: Experience
Do you accept this Quest?
Yes
No
“I’ll get started right away,” I replied, accepting the quest and the smoke beacon.
“Do yourself a favor, go pick up the book ‘Bounty Hunting for Fame and Fortune’ from the townhall and give it a read before you get started. It will help,” Butters suggested.
Quest Alert: Read Bounty Hunting for Fame and Fortune
Sergeant Butters has strongly recommended you read and study Bounty Hunting for Fame and Fortune before joining in on the search for the missing guard.
Reward: Experience, New Skill
Do you accept this Quest?
Yes
No
“I’ll do that but the townhall doesn’t open for a few hours, isn’t this more urgent?”
“Here, take my key,” said Butters, pulling out a key from his pouch and tossing it to me. “Just be quick in there and bring the key right back. I will be here dealing with this mess,” he motioned to the corpse still suspended in the stocks.
“Okay, I will,” I replied, accepting another quest. Any plans I had for the day just went up in smoke, not that I had anything planned for the day.
I ran quickly over to the door for the townhall and opened it with the key from Sergeant Butters. It took a minute to find the book and another minute to exit the building and lock it back up again.
I could see Sergeant Butters was still in front of the barracks. He was busy with removing the corpse from the stocks and laying it out next to the other dead troll. I quickly returned the key, promising to join the search just as soon as I finished the book. For the time being, I would hole up in my room at the inn and get to reading.
I wanted to speed through it, so I could get out and help search, but I also knew it was possible I could miss something important in the book if I did. Slow and steady won the day, no matter how much I disliked it. It took a good hour and a half to read ‘Bounty Hunting for Fame and Fortune’. Similar to the Bestiary, it went through the various humanoid and other intelligent races, it talked about traits and even their tracks, with the disclaimer stating many races wore boots or shoes able to obscure the footprint. Where this one was more complex, is in the habits of these races. Many of them had habits they couldn’t control, it was a compulsion they couldn’t refuse to see through. Most of which, revolved around their needs for food, sex, religion or some combination of all three. The latter part of the book went into more of the money side of it, talking about famous bounties, and how much they were worth. By the time I finished the book, I had gained another 2 points to both Intellect and Wisdom along with the new skill ‘Humanoid Tracking’.
Humanoid Tracking
Level: 1
Experience: 0.00%
Skill Effect (Passive): Enables you to track humanoids.
Skill Range: 10 yards
Chance to See: 10.00%
Chance to Track: 20.00%
It was actually kind of annoying it did the same thing as ‘Beast Tracking’, but for humanoids. Why couldn’t it just be a skill for tracking perio
d? I shook the thought away, it was time to return to the scene of the crime.
I also got the notification of the quest completion.
Quest Alert: Read Bounty Hunting for Fame and Fortune – Completed!
Sergeant Butters has strongly recommended you read and study Bounty Hunting for Fame and Fortune before joining in on the search for the missing guard.
Reward: +200 Experience, Humanoid Tracking
When I returned to the stocks, the body had been removed, as well as the body of the dead partner, and Sergeant Butters was nowhere in sight. First, I needed to check the footprints going to and from the stocks. It hadn’t rained recently so the ground was dry, so nothing could have been washed away. Unfortunately, the cobblestone streets made it pretty much impossible for there to be any footprints to follow.
I needed a different way to track the killer as footprints weren’t going to work here. Or so I thought until a footprint did light up my vision. It was mostly covered in dust at this point, but when I used my utility knife to scrape at it I found a layer of blue-green blood. The killer had stepped in blood. I now had a trail to follow.
I followed the trail and it kept getting smaller as the bloody footprints got smaller and smaller, until they vanish altogether. I ended up in a part of town I hadn’t visited yet. There were only a few homes in the area. I saw a shop sign for a leatherworker’s shop. I also saw a larger building with a sign, ‘Butcher’, which explained the awful smell I was just now taking note of, as well as the large fly population dominating the area.
I looked further down the street and there was nothing ahead except for the small mote surrounding the village. There was a good chance, the probable killer had business in this area. I would have to knock on every door and question the occupants.
The Curse of Hurlig Ridge_World Tree Online_1st Dive Page 14
