Milc/C.J. Milnes
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Chapter 13 - Goodbye blandness, my old friend
🕑 Added 2025-01-01 12:29:56 +0000 UTCMy beard had grown out since I arrived in this world. I had passed through the itchy phase and was now moving into Grizzly Adams territory. I eyed the dead aurox and hoped the arrow had survived. The giant bovine creature clearly had not and fortunately when it collapsed it had fallen with the arrow sticking out at the top rather than snapping it under its weight.
Normalis Aurox slain.
Five Souls gathered.
I used a dagger to cut away at the entry point and carefully worked the thin shaft of wood out. It came free with a sucking sound and to my relief it was undamaged. I was down to two arrows, having had half of my supply break while I had been hunting over the last week. This was the fourth aurox I’d killed since walking into the grasslands.
It was a waste of time to properly clean the guts or harvest the meat. I’d never use that much and I couldn’t carry it with me. Instead I put the knife into the cavity formed where the beast's uppermost rear leg met the torso and began slicing in a circle to remove the limb. Working the blade into the cartilage of the joint was a delicate process, my knives were brittle and could easily snap. The rest I would leave for the scavengers, large birds that always circled overhead.
With the meaty prize slung over my shoulder I headed back towards my latest campsite, a slight depression at the edge of one of the hilltop woods. A small lake, more of a pond, lay on the other side of the trees and I had camped here for two days now.
I didn’t understand the Vilis and Normalis denominators. I’d initially concluded that the bear and the over-sized rabbits were given that tag as a result of being larger than they should be but these aurox were much bigger than the cows from earth that they resembled. Yet they were Normalis all the same.
Sitting down beside the fire hole I’d dug I began to strip the hide off the meat. I’d rigged up a pair of sturdy tripods on either side of my fire and rested a thick branch of green wood across the gap. It was simple enough to adjust the height, and thus the temperature on the meat, by sliding the tripod legs in and out.
Putting the skin I had removed from the leg to one side to be buried later I began slicing strips off the muscle to hang on my improvised spit. Once I had taken enough for tonight I set the rest of the leg aside on a stone and balanced the long thin strips across the crossbar. With a glance I ignited the fire I’d laid earlier, I had realised that physical gestures felt natural and possibly looked very impressive but they were unnecessary when it came to using my magic.
I had managed to avoid spending any souls in the Shop so far. With semi-regular watering points in the forms of ponds and streams, plentiful forage in the small forested patches and large game to hunt, I was self-sufficient in everything that mattered for now, especially since discovering that the rapid growth ability could turn a straggly berry tree lacking fruit into a bountiful harvest for twenty mana.
Weighing my options with regards to my available Souls had become a constant distraction. I wanted more levels. The sense of growth from spending physical stat points was intoxicating but magic was increasingly useful as well. I was trained for physical combat but with the addition of magic I could be truly dangerous. It was limited. It would let me fight against odds that I shouldn’t stand a chance against, as it had back at the cave, but if there had been ten of them instead of five I suspected I would have fled rather than attacking. Magic was an advantage but it didn’t make me unstoppable. All my competitors would have the same edge when I finally found them.
The fat began to drip out of the meat, spitting as it hit the flames and embers below. The smell was delightful. Aurox tasted just like beef and I had been unable to stop myself from searching through the foodstuff section of the Shop for some horseradish sauce. No luck, unfortunately.
I decided to take two more levels. The first tier ability points were only ten Souls per level so I could improve four of them for the same cost. Tier two abilities required twenty Souls, just like tier two levels. The impact of the stat points was what decided me. Since reaching mid way through E tier I was so much stronger and faster, my endurance was far beyond anything I had been capable of on Earth. Perhaps one day I’d stop and save up to keep enough in reserve for a health potion but access to the healing spell obviated that need for now.
Level 15
Primary Stats: Body: E+ Mind: F+ Soul: F
Available Souls: 43
Secondary Stats
Physical strength: 20 Reflexes: 15 Health: 120
Magic strength: 8 Focus: 8 Mana: 100
Putting all four points into physical strength in order to confirm my theory; I was pleased with the result. E+ meant I had one D tier statistic. When health or reflexes joined my strength I would advance to D-.
Waving the aurox leg next to me in the air seemed to prove my theories about my statistics. It was noticeably lighter, for sure. It felt like it was made of balsa wood but the limb must weigh nearly thirty kilos. Like last time: nothing had visibly changed but I felt the new power in every movement.
I turned the meat strips and waited for them to start to blacken. I had stopped boiling my water due to the necessity of being on the move and had so far not suffered any ill effect but intestinal parasites were something I could still easily prevent by cooking my food. Thus far the evil god called dysentery had given me a pass.
The sun was falling to the west when I first heard the rumble. It sounded faintly like a train heading my way, or being near a busy road. I had finished my meal and was quietly contemplating the first stars to emerge in the darkening sky at the time. The alien patterns still baffle me but I was confident I had located an equivalent to a pole star. I’d watched the tiny sparks circle above me for the last week on the plains and the end three stars in a configuration that resembled an axe, laid on its side when compared to the horizon, seemed to point to the most static star I’d found.
Standing up I looked around but nothing was moving for miles as far as I could see. The rumbling grew louder and I began to consider other possibilities. Was this some kind of geological event? A hidden geyser in the lake on the other side of the small hill?
I was considering moving my campsite as a group of riders swept round the west side of the hill and began to fan out across the grass in front of my fire. I wouldn't call them horsemen based on their mounts. They were stocky ponies at best and the mounted men looked more like adults riding donkeys at the beach than s formidable cavalry force.
One of them rode forward slowly, taking his time to check the shadows behind me for signs of any threat. I felt the masks dropping back into place in my mind. Dissembling was second nature for me but the brief freedom I had found alone in my cave and had affirmed with Wilson was something I didn’t want to give up. Graben had seemed like a straightforward man. In the end he’d been unafraid of death, asking for mercy where most would have begged for more time.
“I’m alone. Would you like some food?” I called. Hospitality was my best option in this situation. A quick count revealed fifteen of them and they all carried short stabbing spears in their right hands and a small hide shield in their left. The uniformity of their weapons was mirrored in their dress: Short green tunics of woven cloth covered them down to their knees and sturdy leather boots covered their feet. There were no stirrups and the saddles consisted of a thick blanket tied to the animals backs with leather straps. The only control they seemed to have were reins held in their left hands behind the shields but the animals reacted well, forming neat ranks as they spread out and stopped at a slight tug.
“I don’t recognise your accent, stranger. Where is your warband?” called the leader in a flat voice. There was no inflection at all and it was hard to gauge whether he was threatening or just being polite. This one's tunic was a bright red colour, marking him as some sort of commander, no doubt.
“I have no warband.”
“You’re dressed for Koryolis. Are your brothers gone to the Great Blue?” He inched his pony closer and stepped down, dropping the reins in the grass. The horse stayed still and bent to crop the vegetation at its feet.
“I am not with a warband nor am I on Koryolis. I was attacked by a group of men wearing these skins but I ran away after killing one of them and taking it for warmth.”
“An unlikely tale. What is your tribe?” He was moving closer and I was very aware that he kept his body in a fighting stance. The spear was casually pointed just away from me but it would take no time at all to align the stone tip with my chest.
“Areskyn “ I lied. Old habits. He chuckled.
“How interesting. If I were to tell you we are feuding with them, what would you do?”
“I cannot do much against fifteen horsemen.” My voice was calm. What I could do would certainly surprise these riders but I would have to run in the end. I avoided looking at the now riderless horse a few metres behind the man as I plotted out how to put him down and steal it while distracting his friends.
“What would you do if I told you that I am Areskyn and I do not know you?”
“I’d say it’s a wide world and no man can know everyone.” The man laughed and stepped close to my fire, allowing me to see him clearly for the first time. A bushy brown moustache separated his chin from his nose and his long hair was pulled back in a ponytail. His face was craggy and weathered, showing signs of long years in the wilderness.
“May I sit and enjoy the warmth?” he asked politely, inflection finally entering his tone.
“What about your friends?”
“My armsmen will secure the area. I will re-join them when we are finished talking, if the Blue wills it. I do not recognise your accent. Where are you from, in truth?”
In truth? I wasn’t sure it was a good idea to share that information. Graben had been very convincing that Shikrakyn were viewed with superstition and fear, likely for good reason.
“I’m looking for someone called Hakubin. I have a message for him, then I’ll be on my way.” The man’s eyebrows rose and he leaned backwards. I offered him a waterskin and he accepted it, taking a long drink.
“What do you want the King for?” he asked.
“I carry a message from his son.”
“I can deliver it for you. I know him well,” he replied with a twinkle in his eyes.
“It’s not a happy message. It might be best if I didn’t share it with anyone else.”
“They rarely are. Nonetheless, please. I swear on Aresk’s bones I will pass it faithfully to the King.” Graben had been a prince? That was unfortunate. I didn’t care one way or the other, I could discharge the promise and if these men turned hostile I’d kill the closest, steal his horse and run like hell while throwing fireballs to scare off the rest.
“Very well. Graben asked me to tell his father that he died well, fighting with honour.” Having discharged my promise I could now bypass the local tribes and look for civilization further to the south. This bloke was clearly associated with the nearest tribe and his accent was almost identical to the raiders I’d killed. It was a safe bet that this was Graben’s tribe. The man leaned back and hissed softly.
“How do you know this?” he snapped.
“I was there at the time.”
“You mean you killed him.” It wasn’t a question. This man was direct and I saw no reason to lie anymore. I nodded.
“Come with me,” he said, rising to his feet and moving back to his horse.
“Respectfully I’d rather not,” I said.
“It wasn’t an invitation, stranger.”
“Respectfully; no.” As I stood up the riders who had been creeping closer twitched slightly, making their horse stutter to a stop. The leader was barely five and a half feet tall and only one of his companions was taller than that. Childhood malnutrition among the locals probably meant my perfectly unremarkable six feet of height was now outlandish and eye catching. Goodbye blandness, my old friend.
“Very well. We will leave you in peace, stranger.” He spat the words like they left a foul taste in his mouth. Once he was mounted he glared at me then turned his pony and began to trot away, his men swung around to follow. I watched them ride away before I went back to my fire.
As soon as my back was to the plains I heard a crack followed less than a second later by a whirring noise buzzing past my right ear. I pivoted and saw a man thirty metres out in the grasslands recovering a sling to reload it. I threw myself to the side as another rose up and released his stone at me. The whip-crack as the tail of the sling broke the sound barrier echoed out again but he had missed, I was sure of it.
I heard yet another crack and a moment later my head exploded in pain.
