Is it okay to kill of a MC? How mean would it be if I did it at the end of each book and just left 10 pages of blank space to fool the reader who goes by page count? =D hahaha. Oh well, just my musing.
“You ready?” Lee asked in a whisper. He felt like he was asking himself as much as the other man. Despite the fact that they had already survived one attack that day, he was still terrified of the fight that was about to happen.
“Left or right?” Miller asked, staring at the cart.
If I put him on the left, then he’s more likely to be attacked . . . but if I put him on the right, then I have more control over the plan, so it’s more likely to succeed. But . . . Lee looked at Miller. I’d much rather he die before I did. He felt bad admitting this, but given that Miller wasn’t going to suffer a permanent death, it just seemed logical. Before he could tell Miller to take the left side, however, Miller spoke up and answered his own question.
“I’m a right-hand guy. I’m going right,” Miller answered resolutely.
“That’s fine.” Lee sighed then braced himself behind the left side of the big metal cart. They had piled a ton of crap that they had found lying around in the shed into the metal cart, and despite the fact that it was designed to haul heavy loads, getting it started moving wasn’t going to be easy alone.
“Actually”--Lee looked at the cart--“can you push that thing without me?”
Miller gave it a nudge then pushed on it. “Yeah, I can. You got my back with support?”
“Of course,” Lee said, pulling out a bow. There were dozens of arrows lying around the storage warehouse, and Lee had decided that it would be great to get use out of the weapon he had just obtained. No matter how much he tried, he still didn’t have the ability to calm his nerves to the point where he was comfortable regarding the whole ‘let’s go in and raid a camp, vastly outnumbered’ thing. Lastly, he lit a small pile of trash on fire just inside the shed door and stuck several arrows with oil-soaked torch wrappings tied to them next to it. Then, after running out of excuses to stall with, he gave Miller a pat on the back to signal that was time. Miller leaned into the cart with all of his strength and strained against the load. A moment later, the cart lurched forward and burst through the shed door.
Lee crouched down behind it for cover until it was completely out of the shed then made his way up into the doorway, an arrow nocked and ready. He popped up long enough to loose his first shot at the guard on Miller’s left, and the arrow whizzed through the air, penetrating into the man’s shoulder and causing him to scream out in a strange combination of shock and pain.
Crap, crap, hurry! Lee nocked another arrow as quickly as he could and fired it at the man again. The second arrow flew past the guard and stuck into the door.
Having realized what was going on, the injured guard drew a sword and charged toward Lee. There wasn't much of a distance between the two buildings, and Lee knew that the guard would clear the span in a short moment, injured or not. Giving up on killing the guard for a moment, he grabbed one of the prepared arrows, lit the torch wrappings on the small fire he had lit, and shot it onto the roof of the barracks. As soon as he saw the arrow hit his target, he began repeating the process.
Somewhere between the second and third arrows, Miller slammed the mine cart into the guard barracks, and with herculean strength, he heaved the cart onto its side so that it was wedged against the wooden door. It was an awkward, rushed attempt, and not without consequences. The second guard took advantage of the busy Firbolg and used the opportunity to lash out with a short sword, stabbing into Miller’s chest several times before he finished his work. Once his job was completed, Miller jumped back, his chest covered in blood, and turned to face the guard.
Lee jerked his attention away from Miller just in time to see the wounded guard close in on him. He frantically jerked his bow up between them, blocking the guard’s first attack. He jumped backward as soon as the guard’s sword was deterred, dropped the bow, and drew his own two swords just in time to parry an onslaught of attacks. Lee was slowly pressed backward into the shed by the guard’s well-placed attacks. He kept looking for an opportunity to counterattack, but the guard never relented in his attacks. Even though his opponent’s form was absolutely horrible, the constant rain of attacks never gave Lee the chance to take the initiative.
What’s with this guy? He’s not nearly as good of a swordsman as the lot from that last group of riffraff who attacked us, but he’s unrelenting. Ah! Everyone I saw in here was a Human, so, they’re probably not players. They must just be NPCs like everyone in town!. That would explain why he’s so sloppy with his form and unwilling to give up despite his inability!
He risked another quick glance around and was pleased to see that everything seemed to be going as planned so far. The door was sealed, and he and Miller only had the two guards to fight, not counting the two others who were guarding the slaves, but that was it. It was promising to be a good two-on-two fight followed up by another two vs two, and given how well Miller and Lee had handled the encounter on the way here, Lee was rather sure of himself as he continuously and easily parried the thrusts of the armored guard in front of him.
All that practice with Ling is paying off. Lee smiled when he realized that he was exerting little to no effort in his fight. He moved his swords back and forth just enough to stop the rain of amateurish blows but was careful not to ever let one weapon stray too far to the side and leave himself open. Despite the wound in his shoulder, and the ease with which Lee was able to deflect his attacks, the guard showed no signs of letting up in his attacks. So, Lee patiently watched and waited while looking for an opening.
When his opponent clumsily thrust toward Lee’s chest, he found his opportunity. He tilted his body to the side and used one sword to parry the attack, pushing it off course and away from his body. Then, using his other sword, he stabbed forward into the guard’s shoulder close to where his arrow had struck. His blade dug in deeper than he had expected, given that the guard likely still had plenty of hit points, and caused the man to let out a groan in pain.
Lee stole a glance over at Miller as he parried an incoming blow and repeated the same process of moving the guards’ blade to the side with his left weapon and thrusting forward again with his right. Miller was doing well enough. He didn’t seem to have any more much trouble with his opponent than Lee was, even though he was mostly just swinging his two-handed weapon wildly. Like the guards, he had absolutely no finesse in his attacks; but where their opponents were lacking, Miller’s strength compensated. Each time Miller parried a blow, his foe was forced back another step by the Firbolg’s brute strength. Miller was effectively keeping the guard off balance as he forced the other man to bounce around from side to side looking for an opening. Even though Miller had entered the fight injured, the fact that the swordsman facing off against him couldn’t ever get proper footing long enough to launch anything more than a desperate attack gave Miller an undeniable advantage. That said, even though Miller was able to knock the guard around, he was unable to make progress or manage anything close to a damaging blow. At the rate things were going, it'd be half an hour before Miller could kill the guard, and that was assuming the guard didn’t start reading Miller’s pattern and turn the tables on him.
Well, at least the one I’m against isn’t that tough. Lee was doing his best to angle his blade such that his opponent’s thrusts and slashes would come up shy, often by a foot not an inch. Things will be perfectly fine at this--
“ENEMY AT THE BARRACKS!” someone shouted from the direction of the slave quarters.
Crap, crap, crap, crap. Lee panicked as soon as he looked over in the direction of the shout. There were four humans running in his direction. Two of them were the young men that that Ethan had spotted earlier, the wardens from the slave quarters, and each was decked out in leather armor with tower shields and short swords. The other two were the old couple that Lee had actually followed up here. Weren’t they talking to the guy with the green notebook? Shouldn’t they be locked in the sleeping quarters with the other troops? When did they leave? Why are they over there? Lee’s heart raced. He had a little doubt in his ability to handle two of them, but now there were four more pouring in. If any new foe was half as competent as the one facing Miller, then there was a good chance that he wouldn’t be able to handle him, much four more, yet here he was about to be swarmed.
With his attention diverted to the group attacking him, Lee was missed dodging a simple thrust from the guard whom he had been handling so well a moment ago. Having slipped around behind him while he wasn’t looking, the other man successfully stabbed him in the back, right above his kidneys. The blade didn’t feel like it penetrated deeply, but it did shave off 17 hit points.
The pain was sharp and pierced through him like an electric jolt. Rather than hollering or screaming out in pain and making his situation worse, Lee snapped back to reality and the fight in front of him that he was already engaged in. Quickly, he formulated the best plan he could think of: I have to run. The guard tried to get lucky with another stab, and Lee decided that this was the best chance he was going to get. He slashed out with his own blade as hard as he could, knocking the guard’s sword straight into the dirt. The maneuver left Lee’s in an awkward position, unable to return any attack of his own, but he wasn’t planning on one anyway.
Lee was about to bolt toward Miller but realized they might lose interest in him and kill his Firbolg friend if he did that. No, I have to run this way. Lee bolted out of the storage room and took a sharp right so that he was going around the warehouse instead. It would appear to anyone watching that he had simply given up and was just running away, but, in reality, he was also doing something he had never done before: praying. He was praying to his actual God, not Augustus, that he might live through the day. Can you even hear me in this world? Lee asked, feeling oddly religious as he held the wound in his back and ran as best he could. He could practically feel them behind him. He knew that they were hot on his trail, and once all five of them reached him, he was likely going to die. But that didn’t mean that he could afford to give up hope altogether.
As he rounded past the corner of the building and started running in a circle around the warehouse, Ethan came soaring in to the rescue. He swooped down out of the night sky and straight onto the old man’s face. When the man’s wife saw the flying mouse clawing at her husband’s eyes, she turned and swung a fist right at him. Ethan scampered up onto the man’s balding crown just before the fist landed right where he had just been, breaking the old man’s nose.
The man’s own two hands were reaching up to grab Ethan before the blow came, but the snap to the nose stopped them half-raised in the air.
“Sorry!” the woman apologized as her husband winced and covered his face. Ethan scampered down the man’s back, tearing at the old man’s flesh with his tiny claws as best he could as he scurried down the man’s spine. Lee could hear Ethan angrily cursing in mouse squeaks at the man with each stab and rip and tear. None of the scratches was going to do a lot of damage on their own, but they were adding up quickly, and both the old man and his wife proved useless at stopping the mouse’s assault. The old man couldn’t reach the mouse as he ran back and forth around his back, and each of the woman’s attempts to grab Ethan ended with her beating on her husband instead.
“Get it off me!” he screamed, doing his best to twist, turn and bend in such a way as to grab the furry little creature. “Grab this rat! Get it off me!”
Upon hearing himself being called ‘a rat,’ Ethan let out a particularly loud squeak and sank his teeth into the man’s back near the base of his neck. The small rodent must have hit a nerve, because the man’s leg began shaking uncontrollably, his body started spasming, and he collapsed to the ground unable to support his weight.
The woman shrieked in horror as she watched Ethan crawl around her to husband’s neck and viciously tear at his throat, finishing the man off and causing Lee to send a mental ‘AWESOME! THANK YOU!’ over to encourage him further and thank him for his work.
Your party has killed Herbert the Green Hat. Your party has been awarded 48 copper, one silver dagger and 55 experience. Your share of this is 24 copper, one silver dagger and 28 experience.
Unable to do anything to help her departed husband, the lady clearly decided that it was probably in her best interest to chase after Lee rather than stick around to become the rabid rodent’s second victim. After staring at the dead body for a brief moment, she took off after Lee once again.
Lee circled the warehouse as soon as the man bit the dust, and he was just beginning to believe that,everything would turn out okay if he could just keep running. Little Ethan was already looking for high ground and preparing to jump down and strike his second victim, and the guard he had engaged with was already injured from their fight earlier. If Ethan could finish off another enemy, or if Miller managed to free himself up and come to help as well, it would quickly turn into an even match-up instead of five people ganging up on Lee. Those were odds he could manage.
Lee’s excitement didn’t last long, however, as he noticed all too late through Little Ethan’s eyes that only two of the guards, one with a tower shield and the guy he had stabbed, were actually chasing him.
Wait, where is the-- Lee couldn’t even finish the thought before a heavy shield slammed into his face so hard that he was sent rolling five feet backward.
“That’ll teach you to run, you little upstart punk,” the man who struck him barked loudly.
Lee hadn’t even managed to stop rolling before the two people behind him caught up to him and began kicking him in the ribs. Their boots hurt like a Charles Dickens book slamming into him. Lee wanted to yell for help, but he knew that Ethan was already everything he could before Lee had his bell rung. The little mouse soared toward the old lady at rapid speed to begin his second geriatricide for the night and prove that the combat efficiency boost to the golem sculptures was no laughing matter.
Lee struggled to stand up. He was already down to 89 hit points from the two-to-five damage kicks and the ten-damage hit from the tower shield, and it took everything he had just to find the will to keep going. There has to be a solution, he told himself as another 2 hit points were shaved off by a kick. This can’t be the end of it. He expected another series of blows to land any second, or worse another hit from the tower shield, but he only heard a small grunt of pain from the man with the tower shield as he was pushed forward and forced to catch himself so that he didn’t fall off balance.
What the heck? Lee tried to use Ethan’s eyes to see what was going on, but the only thing he could catch a glimpse of was the old lady’s hairs. The guard turned to face the direction he had been struck, the other two guards doing likewise, and Lee decided not to second guess good luck and used this chance to slowly push himself back to his feet.
When he was finally back on his feet, he was able to get a good idea of what had happened: someone had shot the guard in the back. The arrow was stuck into his leather armor. Great! Now he’s bleeding! Lee grabbed his weapons and taking advantage of the chaos as he went to stab the soldier he had already wounded, hoping to get him closer to death too. Since the soldier hadn’t removed Lee’s arrow, he had to be taking damage over time on top of all the previous stab wounds. Depending on his level, he might be close to defeat himself, and a few more stabs would do the trick.
Thank you, mysterious archer, Lee thought as he rushed in for quick thrust. Unfortunately for Lee, the stab never landed. The guard turned and parried Lee’s blade, and the other used the opening Lee presented to stab into his rib cage, practically shattering the bones there and knocking Lee’s hit points down to 62. As if to rub salt into the fresh wound, a status message popped to let Lee know that the situation was even worse than he had imagined:
Your rib has been broken, and you have suffered internal organ damage. You will take one point of damage every five seconds until healed.
Lee gritted his teeth against the pain and pushed the message out of his mind. He was determined to maintain focus, and he was somehow still managing to fight using both swords. He swung at the wounded guard with as much effort as he could manage, and was rewarded by feeling his sword cleanly slice into the man’s flesh. Unlike Lee’s previous attempts, he cut deeply into the left side of the man’s abdomen and into his stomach this time. Blood gushed from the wound when Lee with drew his sword and quickly soaked the man’s armor.
Your party has killed Jian Fu. Your party has been awarded 1 silver and 52 copper, one box of unwritten letters and 48 experience. Your share of this is 76 copper, and 24 experience.
Lee barely managed to dodge another hard attack from the other guard as he pulled his sword free. “Not this time,” he grunted. He might have fallen for that trick once but he wasn’t going to be caught unaware so easily again.
Taking advantage of the fact that there was a brief moment of space between him and his assailants, he risked a quick glance around to see what was happening with the other of the two goons. Almost instantly, he caught sight of one chasing after a girl. Is that . . .? Lee didn’t even need to finish the thought. He already knew answer before the question even start forming in his mind. Without a doubt, there was no other girl in Scatterfield even half as beautiful as Ling. If she’s fighting with a bow, and he’s closing in on her with shield, there’s no way she’s going to win!
His natural instinct was to take off running again, to try and draw out the guards until they were in a one-on-one scenario so that Ethan would have time to catch, but all of that changed the moment he saw Ling.
She’s not even real! A distant part of his brain screamed as he adjusted his footing. Ignoring the pain in his side, he darted to the side and began making a semi circle around the man, headed straight for the guy chasing after Ling.
Due to physical exertion, your wound is losing hit points at a faster rate.
The game made sure to remind him he was being stupid, but it only telling him something he already knew. For some reason, his body just wouldn't listen to his brain, and he slammed full speed into the man he was chasing. The guard tripped over his own feet due to the extra momentum provided from Lee and was sent flying forward, crashing face-first into his own shield. It wasn’t much of an attack, and probably didn’t do much damage to the man, but it was enough to get him off of Ling’s trail for a moment. Unfortunately, it also shaved off another three hit points from Lee due to the injuries he already had.
Lee winced at the sharp, stabbing pain in his side as he pushed himself onto his knees and then back to his feet. It definitely wasn’t the smartest or fanciest maneuver he had ever come up with, but it had been effective. He spared Ling a quick glance and shot her a half-hearted smile then took off toward the prisoners’ quarters. His plan wasn’t playing out anything close to what he had hoped, but there might still be a way to salvage part of it if he was lucky. He hated having to leave her to deal with the guard alone, but now that he had given her the chance to reposition herself and had created some distance between them, she would have a better chance of holding her own.
She probably has his body riddled with arrows by now. Ugh . . . Lee grimaced and clutched at his side as he ran. Forty one hit points left and dropping. If this keeps up, I’m going to bleed out just from injuries.
He shot a look over his shoulder. Still after me? Yeah, Ling is fine. He wanted to sigh, but his lungs were taking in more air than they had ever managed before as he piled straight toward the prisoner’s building.
On his way, he looked over at Miller, hoping that perhaps he wouldn’t need to keep running, that Miller would have already finished his opponent and would be able to bail him out of this jam. He’d have no such luck. Miller was still in a heated one-on-one fight with that stupid boss-level guard, grinning like he had just won the lottery even as the man parried his attacks and started to force him backward. Is he happy because the fight is so close, or is he happy because he got to burn so many people alive? Lee wondered, not sure when or if there would be death ticks coming from the guards inside soon. Will they die of burn damage or smoke inhalation? Why didn’t I get an extensive strategy guide to this game from Augustus? he lamented.
Lee reached the door to the slave quarters, ripping it open with all of his strength and then slamming it behind him, that he was being oddly introspective about everything. It’s not like he wasn’t the type to overthink a few things when there were questions to be had--that’s the one thing he was good at, overthinking--but it was more than that this time. There was a sort of cold and solemn feel bred into each though. I can’t stop the bleeding. This is it for me. Lee gulped at the thought. Brushing it off as best he could, he grabbed a flimsy chair, broke off one of the limbs and shoved it in the door for a moment before turning around.
He looked at the prisoners, all stacked like sardines with their eyes staring straight at him, bodies barely visible in the candle light.
“It’s over,” he told them, not exactly sure how he was supposed to make a speech. “I’ve come here to save you, and you’re saved.”
Silence. No one said anything in response.
Well, if I’m going out . . . Lee looked at the door as he heard a bang. It was probably the guy who had been chasing him come to finish the job. “Does anyone have a bandage? Something to patch this wound up?” he asked as he indicated his injury, trying to cling onto one last shred of hope.
Still silence, but a few heads were shaking. Why are most of them women? Wouldn’t men make better coal miners? Is that a sexist thought . . . I’m an idiot: if there were a bandage, Little Ethan would have found it before anyway. He felt stupid for wasting his time asking that question. “Look, I don’t have long left then until I return to heaven, so I’m going to make this quick. I’ve come here by the will of the great god Augustus to free you. I am here to deliver unto you the life you once had, no matter how much the memories of days past will scar it,” he added, not wanting to paint it as some happily-ever-after for them. They’d probably been abused in ways he didn’t want to think about, beaten and forced to work all day. That wasn’t going to go without leaving a few marks here and there on their psyche. “But, umm . . . ” He fidgeted around in his head for the right words, stuttering for a moment as he saw his health slipping dangerously close to the dead mark. Oh, yeah, “Augustus is not going to give you it all. He will give you a chance, but he wants you to prove your worth with the value of your spirit. That’s why the request he is giving you, through me, is not unsurmountable. It’s just one man, one man between you and freedom. Do you think you can do that as a whole? Do you think all of you together can finish off the last obstacle?”
Quiet. Of course, they don’t know me.
“Well, now is your chance to prove the strength of your spirit. Now is your chance to show the great god Augustus that you are worthy to be his followers, that this boon and salvation he has granted you wasn’t for nothing. You ready?”
There were a few blinks. Am I really that awful at speeches? This is worse than my proselytizing. “Well, you better be,” Lee chuckled to himself. The worry, the tension, the anger, none of it could be summoned anymore now that he was so close to the pearly gates. As the last guard’s banging and attempts to get in continued, Lee gave him what he wanted, yanking the piece of the chair that barred the door closed out of place and letting the man burst into the room, momentarily off balance as his momentum carried forward until he caught himself and went right back into a fighting stance.
“I got you now, you blasted worm,” the man said, lunging at Lee.
Lee didn’t bother trying to parry but backed up instead, further into the crowd of mute slaves.
“You’re going to die right here, and that stupid false religion of yours is going to go with it!” The man smirked as he thrust at Lee again, but Lee just backed up once more, the crowd of slaves making way for the two like a school of fish avoiding a predator in the water.
“This was your last chance, to be one of his chosen, to regain the dignity their false deity had taken from you, to regain your lives in Satterfield” Lee said to the slaves as he continued to back up, “but if you don’t want it, then don’t worry. Augustus won’t force it upon you if you’re so ungrateful you can’t even reach out for it when it’s right in front of you.”
Finally, there was a reaction. It wasn’t a big one. It was a single object, a tiny metal cup that was thrown at the guard’s head, bouncing harmlessly off of his leather cap.
“Hey!” the guard yelled and turned in the direction the object had come from.
Lee took advantage of the situation and reached out, quickly thrusting his sword into the guard’s back now that his clunky shield wasn’t perfectly blocking it.
Lee pulled his blade out quickly as the guard turned around to face him again, but as soon as the man did that, more attacks came. This time it wasn’t cups, but fists, belts, elbows and kicks. They rained down his back like a hundred small pebbles, none of them doing significant damage, but all of them adding up quickly. Lee didn’t have to raise a hand now, he just watched silently. He was already down to thirteen hit points, and they were still draining from his earlier injury as the prisoners violently murdered their captor in front of him.
Your party has killed Frank the Tank. Your party has been awarded 60 copper, one tower shield and 76 experience. Your share of this is 30 copper, one tower shield and 38 experience.
Well, at least I took a few with me, Lee thought as he sat down on one of the beds.
“Now, when I’m gone, remember what Augustus has done for you . . .” Why am I still preaching? Especially for that stupid, annoying, drunken ape that sent me here to die? It’s over for me. “Remember that he gave you your freedom by teaching you to take it for yourself. That if you’re patient, and if you think well, an opportunity will always come for those with faith. Just don’t let it pass by, don’t take it for granted, don’t be . . .” Lee had more to say on the subject. He wanted to give a rousing speech before he passed on, so that he would at least be remembered by someone. The guy who saved their lives, that will give my name some longevity past my corpse, right? he thought, but as he struggled to talk, he found himself wavering back and forth. So tired . . . Three hit points left. All this talk about Augustus isn’t going to block me from going to the real Heaven, is it? Lee chuckled again. I’m dying. Why am I laughing? he thought as he toppled over. No, I’m not dying. The fight’s over. I’m just . . . I’m just going to rest my eyes for a second. That’s all I’m going to do. I’m going to rest my eyes for a moment and-- Lee’s thoughts came to a halt as he slipped, too tired to be afraid, into death.
-----
Ling’s feet carried her forward as fast as they could, but it was still barely enough to keep up with Weiser’s quick movements. Even if Weiser did stop every now and again so that Ling could gain ground on the furry animal, her pet was simply moving too fast. I have to find him. I have to find him before it’s too late. The thought ran through her head, repeating itself like a mantra despite the pain it seemed to cause.
Everything seemed to have started the day she met him, Lee, her savior. It hadn’t been a particularly fortuitous meeting. When she first laid eyes on the shabby-looking, oddly-dressed man, she had already been kidnapped, and tied up, after being dragged through the forest and beaten several times before finally being tossed next to a rock and forced to watch as other people ate. She had been hungry, cold and miserable when she first saw him, so nervous and shaking that even she was basically acting on autopilot when she had first met him. He killed her abusers, cut her bonds and helped her regain her footing in the world, yet she didn’t even say so much as a simple ‘thank you.’ It was a point she would have regretted, if she had thought about it at the time, but she couldn’t actually remember thinking about anything before he had rescued her.
In fact, as odd as it was, the first thought she could actually remember that was her own only from a day ago. Yet, once that first instance of self-realization occurred, the memories flooded back to her one after another. She recalled training with Lee for half a day. They had sparred, talked, sparred, talked, and overall, they had a good time despite the rather tragic backdrop to their situation. She hadn’t really considered anything more of it, even if it had happened immediately after rescuing Shannon. It was then that she remembered watching Miller gruesomely murder the kidnapper. She remembered that Miller was Lee’s close friend. Even though part of her had really wanted to go with him in order to prove that she wasn’t helpless, she had obeyed him when he told her to be patient and wait.
Why did I listen to him? She actually began to question her own actions and what had spurred her to that particular course of action as he recalled the event. Another twinge of pain, albeit duller this time, shot through her head as the question arose.
She hadn’t even planned to follow him. She had planned to stay put just like she agreed. She was going to go home, wait for him to come back successful, and that would be all--but then she went home and found her dad sitting in his chair holding Weiser.
“Ling, while you were gone, some nice, young man named BeardsExtraChin was able to find and rescue your cat Weiser. You should really thank him the next time you see him,” her dad had said to her as he petted the cat.
Ling remembered finding herself befuddled, not just by the fact she didn’t remember Weiser running away, but by the fact that, as her father talked to her, a strange blue box appeared in front of her letting her know that her affection for this man, BeardsExtraChin, had gone up some. As she tried to contemplate exactly what the blue box was, and why she should listen to it, her head started to hurt. It wasn’t just a small pain, either, but a sharp, driving, stabbing sensation like someone had cut her skull open and was going to town on it with a miner’s pick.
Wait . . . Those blue boxes have been appearing a lot. My whole life, in fact. She started to recall, but each time she thought about it, her head hurt even more. Trying to contemplate why her brain was lighting up with such agony only further spurred this infinite torment loop . . . until it just stopped bothering her as much. Each thought, each time she used her mind, the pain was less than before. It felt like forever, but in reality she knew it probably only lasted a few minutes at best before she was able to finally manage it. It’s just a splitting headache now, she grumbled, still staring at the blue box in front of her that was now slowly fading.
Then she remembered him: Lee. This man saved my cat, too. In fact, a few men have saved my cat this week. Did Weiser run away every morning? She was curious but brushed off the needling pain in her head. She was determined to either focus and follow through with the line of questioning until the discomfort either dulled or it was no longer noticeable. She wasn’t going to be dissuaded this time.
As she thought about Lee, the cat, and everything that had happened, she had only one conclusion left: I need to talk to Lee. I need to ask him if this is because I started believing in Augustus. Are these thoughts, this awareness . . . Is this his doing? Is this some byproduct of the tragedy, or has an actual god interfered in my existence? She was fully aware of the fact that, even though she had lived for years, she couldn’t remember a single time she had contemplated anything. She had always just obeyed the blue boxes, liked who they said to like, hated who they said to hate, went where they said to go and waited for someone to rescue her stupid runaway cat ev morning after morning. Has the god, Lee, or misfortune granted me this strange clarity?
When she went to the tavern, ready to stay the night waiting on Lee to return if needed, she passed by three men she hadn’t seen before. She wasn’t planning on eavesdropping, in fact she often avoided listening to men talk when they thought no one could hear since the subject was always crude, cruel or bawdy, but she just couldn’t help it. She overheard their topic of conversation and how how they were going to butcher ‘that stupid herald and his pet brute.’
Lee . . . that’s . . . They’re after Lee and Miller?! She panicked, her eyes opening wide as she turned around and stared after them. What are they talking about?! Why are they going to do that? She brushed off the pain as her ears perked up and her feet slowed down. Instantly, she was doing everything she could in order to listen in on the conversation without being obvious about what she was doing.
“That man is going to taste my blade before he even gets close to the camp,” one of the men boasted.
“Yeah, I’m going to split him from top to bottom and offer whatever falls out to the big man,” the other bragged with a laugh.
They kept on for a minute, but then they were out of earshot, and she couldn’t hear anything else they might have said.
Ling looked both ways, ducked behind a corner, counted to two, and followed after them. She had absolutely no experience trailing people, but she knew enough to try and not to make her footsteps noticeably loud. After a while, she even started to match her footsteps with the man in front of her so that they would be even less noticeable. One of the blue boxes, the kind that had first tormented her with these brain pains, appeared in front of her.
You have learned the proficiency skill sneak. This skill is currently at Unranked level 1. This skill improves one’s ability to stay hidden, move silently and act undetected.
Ignore it, Ling resolved. She wanted to take the time to inspect it and figure out what the heck it was talking about, but she didn’t dare risk taking her eyes off of the group. They were on their way to kill Lee, after all, and she couldn’t risk missing out on any important bit of information if they gave her any more any clues as to what was going on.
A block before they reached the edge of the town, Ling was suddenly unsure of which path to take. I can’t follow anymore; it’ll be obvious if I do. I don’t have any weapons, either, so if I start chasing after them now, they’ll just discover me . . . and I’ll be right back where I was when Lee saved me. Yet, I can’t let them ambush and kill Lee. I need to stop them.
Finally, she decided to watch to see which direction they were leaving from, which direction they headed in, and then go get weapons before tracking them down. She wasn’t exactly the best fighter with a sword, though she considered herself fairly proficient, but she was confident that she was the best in town when it came to a bow. I got this, she thought as she clenched her fists and ran to her house as quickly as she could.
She reached her home in record time, swinging open the door to her home and moving across the room so fast the candle next to her dad was almost blown out by her backdraft. Instantly, her cat leapt out of her father’s lap and ran out the door. Ignore it, Ling resolved once more. She made her way to her room and dug through her stuff, grabbing a bow, several arrows and a short sword just in case.
“Your cat ran off again!” her dad grumbled.
“He seems to do that a lot,” Ling answered with a shrug as she loaded up her quiver.
“Does he? I wouldn’t know.” Her dad didn’t even look up as he went to pet an empty spot on his lap, causing no small level of discomfort on Ling’s face when she noticed.
Once she was armed, she made her way to the part of town from which those men had only to find her cat curled up and waiting. As soon as she came near to him, he bolted in the exact same direction she had watched the men leave. Weiser even ran through the exact same two trees where she had last spied the men as he exited into the forest.
Is . . .? Is Weiser following a scent? She blinked, unable to piece together what was happening.
Weiser, who was almost completely out of sight, turned back to give Ling one last glance before taking off again. Not one to be outdone, Ling started chasing after her cat. It wasn’t long until she saw the feline standing still and staring her direction as if to say ‘Come on, I’m waiting on you.’ They ran for a while, and she wanted to stop at a few points, but whenever she tried to slow her pace down and take a breather, Weiser would start running out of sight, forcing her to practically sprint to keep up.
All the running paid off, though, and the duo finally caught up with the three men she had been pursuing. Two of them were killed in what looked like a clean conflict, but one was mutilated to the point he was barely recognizable. His chest was sunken in and disfigured, the top half of his chest cavity ripped open and the collar bones removed. The missing bones had been stuck in each of his eye sockets, and his mouth was hanging open and filled with blood, likely from his missing tongue.
Did he bite off his own tongue because he couldn’t take the pain? Ling swallowed down the bile that rose in her throat and used the excuse of looking for signs of Lee or Miller to take her eyes off the corpse’s horrifying visage. She scoured the area twice, and even though there was no sign of either, whatever relief she felt at the fact Lee and Miller weren’t already dead was stifled by the morbid image that had been burned in her head.
This is . . . This is what they did? Her eyes unconsciously returned to the mangled body. I saw this exact type of thing earlier at the tailor’s home, so why didn’t it bother me then?
Thankfully, Weiser’s meow drew her attention away from the horrific sight. That’s right! Just because they killed these three, it doesn’t mean they’re safe. There will be more ahead. There will be more at the bandit camp. Ling gripped her bow tightly and started running after the cat once more, determined to catch up with Lee before he wound up dead.
Her feet carried her forward with as much speed as they could muster. I have to find him. I have to find him before it’s too late. She kept going for longer than she was comfortable with, pushing the boundaries of her endurance. Finally, when she was giving up hope that her legs would be able to keep up the pace any longer, and after she had begun to doubt whether or not her cat was even leading her in the right direction, she heard with the sounds of people shouting and screaming. She slowed down at last, legs aching and out of breath, to get her bearings. The last thing she wanted to do was rush headlong into a bad situation and be caught unaware or make things worse. She couldn’t make out much through the trees, but she could plainly see a giant pillar of smoke rising into the sky ahead of her.
That’s them. They must be in the middle of it, so I need to be careful, Ling cautioned herself as she slowed down from a run to a walk and readied an arrow. She wanted to rush in as quickly as possible, but she knew better than to give up an archer’s greatest weapon: initiative. As such, she crept along toward the buildings, bow in hand, one arrow nocked, ready to help out at a moment’s notice. She had almost reached the encampment when she caught sight of a man running toward the back of one with four others chasing him. He was still too far away for her to make him out clearly, but she knew without a doubt that it was Lee from the way he was dressed. She looked to her right, toward the burning building, and saw a giant man, likely Miller, fighting with a guard as well.
She approached the building carefully, simultaneously trying to figure out where best to approach from and also keep an eye out for any other combatants, when she noticed that another man was sneaking around to cut Lee off. Crud, if he keeps circling, they’re going to have him trapped. I have to do something about this! Ling panicked, deciding to give up on her stealthy approach altogether. She took off racing toward the building, circling around the entrance and going after the lone man who had peeled off to trap Lee. Despite her haste, she was too slow. Even before she was within range and with a clear shot she realized that it was already too late to prevent Lee from falling into their trap. Even as she pulled back the string on bow, she saw that Lee was already on the ground, being kicked around by one of the oafs.
He’s going to die! Ling put all of her focus into a quick but well-aimed shot, nailing the guard that was kicking Lee in the back. Ling gave herself a quick cheer when she saw Lee make it to his feet and nocked another arrow, preparing to fire again. Unfortunately, her second target wasn’t going to be struck nearly as easily as her first. The guard was holding a giant tower shield, and it blocked off nearly his entire body. She really only had two options: she could either aim for his feet or his head. The problem was that she wasn’t confident enough in her abilities to be certain that she could land an arrow in either of his feet with him shuffling about as he was. Even worse, his head was protected by a helmet that would probably turn away any arrow she was lucky enough to strike him with.
What do I do? Not wanting to waste any time, she made a split-second decision. The shield, then. She let out a breath of air and released the arrow at the place on the shield where she could only hope his arm was. She knew the shaft would get stuck in the shield, but that didn’t mean that it wouldn’t do any damage. With a loud thunk, the arrow struck right on target. Years of hunting tiny, fast-moving woodland animals paid off as she was able to hit just the right spot. Her heart began pounding against her rib cage harder than she could ever remember it doing before, and she fired yet another arrow.
Yes! She cried out in elation as her second arrow pushed through the already cracked and damaged wooden husk protecting the man. If she stacked enough arrows and made a hole, they’d still drill through and reach the man’s arm. She lined up another shot and and placed it right on the first and second, the shaft on this one going even deeper than before, and the man grunting loudly as her arrows dug their way through the wood and flesh on their way toward his bone.
There was a serious problem, however: he was getting closer. It wasn’t quickly--he was moving around erratically now, likely trying to disrupt Ling’s aim so that she wouldn’t hit the spot again and hammer a point even deeper into his flesh--but it didn’t matter. Every step brought him closer to her, and that meant the distance she had to cover with an arrow was even smaller, but she knew that that no matter how fast she managed to sink arrows into the bastard’s arm, the wound wouldn’t kill him before he reached her. Unless she was somehow able to hit a vital spot, she would never drop him.
I guess I have to pull a Lee and run as well. She lowered her bow after the fourth shot, and glanced behind her to make sure that she had a clear escape path.
All clear, she thought, turning back to see Lee charging toward her. She watched as he half-ran, half-stumbled into the guy she had been aiming for, sending him sprawling forward and face-first into the ground. The fall snapped off the arrows she had planted in his shield in the process, but his pain-filled groan was enough to let her know the awkward tumble wasn’t the only thing hurting him--not that it mattered. At last, she had the clean shot she had been looking for. She lined up a final attack and fired straight into the crown on his head. The second it lodged in, he went stiff.
She drew her attention away from the freshly downed target to find Lee but realized that he must have barricaded himself inside of a building. The guard who had been chasing him was pounding on the door and shouting curses, making it clear that there none of his friends were inside the building. With his momentary safety in mind, she turned and unloaded a barrage of everything left in her quiver at Miller’s opponent.
With an almost third-eye level of perception, the man backed up and dodged the first arrow without a problem. Unfortunately for him, Miller was able to land a hefty stab right into his gut as dodged the first whizzing barb. Impaled as he was on Miller’s spear, there was no way for the guard to even try to and dodge the second arrow, which struck into his arm. Before Miller could even extract his weapon, the third and fourth arrows struck deep into his rib cage, finishing off the poor man where he stood.
Your have killed Caperknee. You have been awarded 35 copper, one copper longsword and 45 experience.
Miller turned to Ling and gave her a strange hand gesture with three fingers and a huge smile. “You ruined my fun,” he laughed. “I don’t think I’ll have any more for a while, so I was savoring it. I was making it entertaining for Augustus!”
Sure you were. It looked more like you just couldn’t make any headway at all. Ling just glowered at the ungrateful Firbolg.
“Wait, where’s Lee? I thought I came with the scrawny man, not the tall woman.” Miller’s head started spun around like an owl’s as he looked for Lee.
“He’s in that building, ” Ling answered, pointing at the structure the guard had been trying to get into moments ago. Wait, the guard! He’s gone! Did he get in?!
Her eyes stretched open wider than the time when she tried to swallow a mouthful of raw peppers on a dare, and her feet were already carrying her forward as fast as they could before she even realized that she was moving. Her mind was stuck on repeat. I have to reach him. I have to reach him before it’s too late.
She tried her best to open the door when she reached, but it wouldn’t budge. It’s locked? How did the guard get in?! She panicked, heaving against it with all of her might.
“Out of the way. I got this.” Miller pushed her aside like a bag of rice with one hand while grabbing the door with the other. It didn’t even take him two tries, as the first attempt practically pulled the door off its hinges. “Lee!” he said so loudly it left a ringing in her ears. “Lee, are you safe in there?”
As Ling got back up after being thrown over by Miller and walked through the door, she saw a room full of people wearing rags that could only be described as work potato sacks at best, all staring at a bed quietly.
“What’s going on?” Ling asked Miller who had stopped his intrusive push forward.
“Shh!” Miller cut her off mid-question.
Why should I be quiet when no one’s talking? Ling was about to ask, but in that moment of silence she heard it. It was faint, but it was a man’s voice coming from the middle of the crowd.
“When I’m gone, remember what Augustus has done for you . . .” The voice paused. Each second it spoke, it grew a little softer. “Remember that he gave you your freedom by teaching you to take it for yourself. That if you’re patient, and if you think well, an opportunity will always come for those with faith. Just don’t let it pass by, don’t take it for granted, don’t be . . .”
Gone? What’s he talking about? Who is gone? What’s gone? What’s going on? She pushed her way through the crowd. That voice, it can’t be his. Can it? She could feel her heart beating again. She could feel the outside of her chest being pressed in by the mob of people, and the inside being pushed outward by her heartbeat. It was so loud that it was starting to cover up the soft chuckling sound coming from the middle of the room. When she finally made it through to see what the slaves were crowding around, there, in the middle of the room, was Lee. His eyes were closed, blood was stained across his chest, and a creepy smile was plastered across his face. Then, even the chuckling stopped as his body slowly tipped over.
No, no this can’t be! She stared at the man in front of her, the man she had so many questions for. “No! You can’t die yet, you son of a troll!” she yelled at him as she closed the distance between them. “Can someone help him? Bandages? Gauze? Alcohol? Something?” she shouted at the crowd. “He can’t die yet! He can’t die yet . . .” The words hurt as they tore through her dry and ragged throat.
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