Here goes nothing.
I advance towards the rhino, Wolf continuing to distract him from the front. One shot, one kill is on my mind, but I’m also not dumb enough to think I’ll be able to get the rhino as easily as I’d like.
With a running leap, I swipe my Splintered Sword against the creature’s tough hide.
-93 HP!
It swings back and the tip of its larger horn connects with my armor. I’m tossed aside; the rhino snorts, cries out, and kicks up more dust as it tries to charge me.
Wolf pounces onto its back and digs his teeth into the wound I’ve opened up.
“Careful!” I shout as the rhino twists around, Wolf hanging on for dear life as the rhino tries to buck him off.
This is going to take some timing, I think as I stand several feet away from the action, bristling as I wait for my opening. My heart twists as Wolf is tossed off, hits the ground, and flips once.
“Wolf!”
I’m running with my Splintered Sword at the ready before I can even think of my next move.
As the rhino turns from Wolf to me, I twist my sword around, grab it with the other hand and hold it like a dagger.
With both hands on the blade, I crouch left as the rhino charges, his head tilted forward. Pressing off my opposite foot just in time, I bring my jagged weapon into the rhino’s fat side belly, holding on for dear life as the rhino stumbles to a halt.
-169 HP! Critical hit!
I bail just before it gets me with its horn, leaving my blade jutting out of its side. The rhino, its eyelids crusted over with big warts, tries to get its bearings as it turns to me.
“Fuck that rhino up!”
I glance right to see the merchant, cheering me on from a safe distance.
Bad move.
“Shit!” The rhino tosses me up into the air, my vision pane flashing as I sail over his head.
I land in a position that would make a gymnast cringe. It’s not quite a full plough pose, but it does hurt like a bitch. Defying all laws of physics, I snap right back up onto my feet and go for my weapon, which is nonexistent because it’s still stuck in the side of the rhino’s body.
Limping, Wolf does his damndest to charge the rhino.
He’s nursing his back leg and as soon as he nears the beast, it whips its horn at him in a mad frenzy.
I move over to Wolf and step in front of him. “Stay back!” I shout over my shoulder.
The rhino, my blade still sticking out of its side, makes a half circle and starts to move away from us, wheezing with each step and kicking up dust. Wolf and I look to each other, ostensibly thinking the same thing.
We follow the rhino.
Keeping our distance, we trail behind the wheezing, bleeding rhino. It stomps its hooves against the ground, hoping to get us to leave it the hell alone, its body swaying with each step.
The merchant catches up with us a few minutes later, totally out of breath.
“Say, aren’t you going to kill it?” he asks, his hands on his knees.
“We are killing it,” I tell him.
“I was expecting something a little more heroic, something I could tell the grandkids about. Not gonna lie, Player Killer, I figured you’d be riding that thing right about now, stabbing it in the neck and drinking the blood gusherin’ up into the air. Whoo! That’d be a sight to see!”
“He’ll die just the same. My blade has stirred up his internal organs; his movement will only exacerbate this.”
“Exer-what the fuck are you going on about?” He snorts. “Never met a smart Player Killer!”
Wolf takes one look up at merchant and bares his teeth.
“Shit, mister, you need to get hold of your dog.”
“If you’re not quiet, he’ll get hold of you.”
My last phrase seems to do the trick.
The merchant keeps his trap shut as we continue to follow the rhino, who is losing steam fast. He drags his back legs now, huffs and gruffs as he continues to the other side of the valley. His blood blackens the ground, each movement he takes making his wound that much worse as my three-pronged blade digs in even deeper.
The rhino finally falls, and Wolf temporarily forgets his wounded leg as he speeds over to the beast and goes for its jugular.
“Gruesome stuff,” the merchant says as Wolf does what he does best, ripping and tearing at the rhino’s neck.
I turn to the merchant and smile. “I believe you owe me something.”
“Yeah, I suppose I do, but tell your dog not to mess with the horns or the pecker.”
I shake my head at the crude merchant. “He won’t. Now, the merchandise you promised.”
I place my hand on the hilt of my sword so he gets the hint of what may happen if he reneges on his promise.
“Cool your ass, Player Killer, I’ll get you your shit. Here’s what I got.” The merchant crouches and spreads a few items out on the ground. “This one here is called Aramis weed; this ain’t ganja, though, just a weed. From Aramis. I got a ton of it.” He drops several bundles onto the ground. “You can have it all.”
“Aramis? That’s not a place in Unigaea, unless it’s a new city.”
“None of my shit is from Unigaea. I got a hook-up in Tritania.” He eyes me suspiciously. “Nope, not gonna tell you his name.”
“I didn’t ask.” I examine the Aramis weed, which is long and fibrous. “What’s it do?”
“It’s explosive, but that’s not all I have for you. Here’s some wizardous.” He tosses me a small sack of white powder.
“This looks like some sort of drug.”
“No idea what it is. I tried to use it as salt and it didn’t taste very good.”
“Then why are you giving it to me?”
He laughs. “It’s your reward for killing that damn rhino. You figure out how to use it yourself. Last but not least … ”
He produces a small burlap sack filled with clipped yellow roots that remind me of red potatoes.
“And this does what exactly?”
“It’s called Jatla root. I tried this one, boiled it up with some wild onions. It increases your stamina. How the hell do you think I got up into these mountains? I ran my happy little ass up here, that’s how! Mix it with your dog’s food or chop it up and snort it; you’ll be scooting along real fast. One more thing … ” He takes a piece of thick rope from his pack. “Do you have any rope?”
“Not at the moment.”
“Then take this stuff. It isn’t from Tritania or anything, but it’s the same stuff the giants in Tael use for tug-o-war competitions. Well, theirs is thicker, but fuck me, you’re a Player Killer, you should be carrying rope. And I know how you like thick things.” He winks at me.
“Seriously?”
“What? Just fuckin’ with you, buddy!”
Wolf loosens his grip on the rhino’s tethered throat and the dead beast drops its head onto the soil.
Wolf level up!
Nice, I think as I turn away from the merchant.
“So that’s it, not even a thank you?”
I turn back to him. “Thank you?”
“No problem!” He claps his hands together. “Glad we could do business. See you around, Player Killer!”
Chapter Six: Take a Peek
“Come here, boy,” I say to Wolf once we are away from the annoying merchant. Glad to be rid of him. I don’t yet know if the items he gifted me for slaying the rhino are worth it, but there’s nothing I can do about that now, and at least Wolf got a level.
The Tagvornin beast limps over to me and takes a seat. “We’ll see about that limp next,” I tell him. He senses what I’m saying and growls. “Nope, not going to argue with you about it. We need to get to Tin Ingot and you aren’t going to make it with that limp.”
I pull up his stats.
Wolf Ruffian
Class: Level 5 Tagvornin Wolf
Subclass: N/A
INFAMY: 82 Players killed
HP: 1016/1431
HP recovery rate
: 1.2% per minute
ATK: 246
DEF: 322
Attributes
STRENGTH: 11
WILL: 4
DEXTERITY: 6
MIND: 4
SPEED: 5
“I hope I don’t regret doing this … ” I say as I place all three points in MIND.
The expression on Wolf’s face suddenly changes as his pupils intensify.
“Relax,” I tell him as I pop the cork out of the healing potion.
His lips lift into a snarl.
“I’m still in charge here, and I don’t care if I have to wrestle you down and pry this in your mouth, you have to drink it. Look at your leg.”
He does as instructed and looks back to me, an ironic smirk on his face.
“Um, okay, look at that tree.” I point and he follows my finger to the tree.
Okay, any dog can do that, I think.
“How about this? If you can understand me better now, blink twice.”
Wolf blinks twice.
“Blink three times.”
Wolf blinks three times.
“Damn, all right, um, bite your tail.”
He shakes his head.
“I’m just trying to test if you really can understand me or not. This isn’t the time to protest!”
Wolf sighs and reaches his neck back. He opens his jaw and stops just short of biting his tail.
“Okay, bark once, nod your head up and down, growl at me, and make one complete circle around me.”
Wolf does as instructed. Once he’s back in front of me, he sits onto his haunches and gives me the “happy now?” look.
“So you’re getting smarter …Good, but don’t think you’re suddenly smarter than me. Remember, I’m the one who can speak here.”
He barks.
“See? No one understands you. But enough. Good boy. You did good back there.”
Wolf smiles at me genuinely and lifts his head so I can pet his snout.
“Now I know you don’t like this, but you’re going to have to suck it up and drink it. Easy way or hard way?”
Wolf bares his teeth, relaxes, throws his head back and sticks out his tongue.
“Good, easy way. Just hold tight and try to get it down in one gulp.”
I approach his open jaw cautiously. I’d like to not lose my hand today, or any day for that matter, and akin to a crocodile’s jaw, once Wolf snaps his teeth shut he rarely lets go.
Hovering about seven inches above his open mouth, I look at him in the eyes, remind him nonverbally not to fight back, and tip the healing potion in.
+200 HP!
Wolf gets most of it back and I pull away just in time. He dry heaves, eats a bit of grass, and gives up his protest at just about the same time he notices he can walk better. A normal animal might not show appreciation for this, but Wolf suddenly gets it. He sits on his haunches and opens his mouth again.
“Good!” I tell him as I pour the rest in.
+200 HP!
Wolf shakes his head, trying to get the taste out of his mouth. I laugh, and once he’s done with his dramatic act, I hop on and we take off to the northwest. “Wait,” I tell him as I hop off again. “You deserve a treat.”
I grab a sliver of the blue melon jerky from my list, take a small bite from it, and toss him the rest.
(^_^)
We travel in silence for some time. A day that began with a funeral pyre has passed rather quickly, and dealing with the merchant took longer than I thought it would.
Wolf rides gently at first, still nursing his leg just in case it cramps up. Once he’s sure of himself, he takes off at a good clip and we’re slowed only by the occasional random confrontation, all of which we avoid as I’d like to get to Tin Ingot by nightfall.
We travel up a series of hills marked by trees with overhanging vines. The sour scent of tree pollen hovers in the air. We are cautious as we move through this part, as I know for a fact that witches haunt these viney woods, many of whom live in nest-like homes in the branches above us.
Fuck, if I’m not on edge as we move through, Wolf’s ears twitching at anything that could signal someone approaching us. Moharian cicadas frequent these woods as well, and their loud drone makes it damn-near impossible to focus on anything, let alone a potential hostile creeping towards us.
Smoke coming from a clearing up ahead catches my eye.
Who would camp out anywhere near these woods?
As we get closer, Wolf starts to sniff at the ground. He stops before a severed hand, ants and insects already swarming all over it. I slide off Wolf, noticing some of the leaves are still wet with blood.
After drawing my sword, I creep forward just a bit more, the light from the clearing now cutting into the dense woods. A puddle of muddy water provides me an opportunity to darken my complexion, just in case something is patrolling the area up ahead.
I take a small hair tie from my pocket and pull my hair back.
Once it’s tight and in a top knot, I dip my fingertips into the puddle of mud and bring some up to my face to make sure it isn’t blood.
I place my hand in again, scoop some of the mud out of the bottom of the puddle and begin covering my face and the exposed portion of my arms. Once I’m good and muddied up, I drop to my belly next to Wolf.
“Ready?” I ask him.
We creep to the edge of the clearing and I press through the tall grass on its outer perimeter. I see now there are ten witches tossed in a pile outside an encampment. They’ve been mutilated, and by the screams I can suddenly hear, a few are still being tortured.
It’s what I see next that makes my blood run cold.
A Stater soldier perched on a black Shire horse circles around the stack of bodies.
What is a Stater soldier doing on a black Shire horse?
Shire Horses are almost exclusively used by the Tagvornins and other inhabitants of the Rune Lands. Stater is far south in the Pesata Keys, just about as far away as one can get from the north.
I press back into the shadows provided by the trees. With a subtle movement of my finger, my dashboard comes up.
A few hours until night.
Whatever is happening, I’d be stupid not to stick around to figure out what’s going on.
(^_^)
I keep my eye on the campsite as the sun sets in the crimson sky. It’s been a few hours now, and the mud covering my body has long since dried. Wolf rests near me, occasionally snapping his teeth at a particularly bothersome fly.
“Shhhh … ” I tell him as two men approach the mangled stack of witches. They throw another on the pile and the sound is sickening. The two wear Stater armor, similar to what I have on but poorer quality.
Something isn’t right here.
The men cackle and move back to the front of the camp.
Over the past few hours, I’ve thought about sneaking around to the front and using the foliage as my disguise, yet a nagging little voice at the back of my head keeps telling me to stay put, that I’d be better off not bringing any attention to myself.
So that’s what I’ve done.
Wolf scoots closer to me and lays his head out. He looks up at me with his puppy eyes in a way that tells me he wants to be petted. I drop my hand onto his head and scratch behind his favorite ear. After a moment of this, he starts to lick my hand.
“I’ll just sneak up there, take a peek, and then you and I will get to the coast,” I tell him. “We can camp out there and hit Tin Ingot in the morning.”
I smile at him. If I have my choice of sleeping in the woods or on the beach, I always choose the beach. There’s less ground to cover in terms of enemies, and I love listening to the sound of the waves.
“Cool?”
Wolf bats his eyes at me.
“Okay, I’ll take that as a yes.”
About thirty minutes later, I move forward towards the encampment, creeping as low to the ground as I can while keeping to the shadows. The mud covering my skin has started to crack, and in retrospect
there really was no reason for me to smear it on. There was absolutely no one on patrol.
I stop near the stack of bodies. A wave of terror rolls through me as one of the witches’ eyes opens and locks onto me.
A green light behind her eye flashes and fades as she slumps her head forward.
“Fuck,” I whisper on an exhale.
Something moves past me, and I turn to see Wolf creeping along. I’m just about to silently reprimand him when he looks at me, gives me a head nod, and continues to the right.
“All right, smart ass,” I say under my breath as I follow him.
A blazing fire ahead spits glittering sparks into the night sky. The men – I still don’t know how many there are – have likely gathered around the fire for supper, providing Wolf and me the perfect opportunity to see what it is they’re up to.
Not that I’m opposed to clearing out these woods, I just don’t see Stater soldiers being assigned to do the task, especially since they are currently trying to win the southern Unigaeans over. Some of these witches are popular shamans; people travel all the way from Scudo to seek their guidance, so this definitely isn’t a public relations campaign, and if it is, it’s an example of what not to do.
The only scent in the air comes from the fire, as the wind has now turned the smoke my way.
A couple of crates have been stacked near a covered wagon. Once I’m sure no one is looking, I bolt over to the crates and duck behind them. Wolf joins me seconds later. He extends his neck out, checks to see that I’m clear, and nods me forward.
“Um, okay,” I whisper, still not sure how I feel about stacking my pup’s MIND attribute.
Keeping as low to the ground as possible, and careful not to disturb the horses at the front of the wagon, I move from the crates to the back wheel. Once I’m sure the coast is clear, I quietly place my hands on the back ledge of the wagon and lift myself into it.
I gasp. The crackling flames of the campfire and the dark crimson sky provide just enough light that I can get a sense of what’s in the wagon. I move further back into the wagon to check more of the contents.
“Impossible … ” I whisper as I lift a chest plate and turn it over in my hands.
Why would a group of Stater soldiers be carrying around Tagvornin armor?
I hear the yip and bark of dogs in the distance. My hair stands on end.
The Last Warrior of Unigaea Box Set: A Fantasy LitRPG Adventure Page 25
