《Stranger Arcana // Grim Fortuna》SA 1.5 - Rite of Brotherhood
Advertisement
“He’s over here,” a voice called from behind Sarros. The Actor turned. He’d managed to find a group of men who fairly tolerated his presence enough to let him eat unmolested, and had spent the last half hour staring into their cook fire, swallowing watery soup and gnawing at black bread as tough as wood. Now, however, someone wanted Sarros. With any luck it would be Captain Mochon, finally returned from his blasted mission.
It wasn’t. The man approaching the firelight had dark skin, hair knotted into dreadlocks, and an outraged expression on his face. He also, to the Actor’s anger, seemed to be supporting a hurt ankle with Sarros’ treasured walking stick.
“Yes, I’m here!” Sarros scrambled to his feet and put a hand on the demon blade’s hilt. “How kind of you to seek me out just to return my staff.”
“Bah!” the bandit spat on the ground and looked over his shoulder. Four men followed a close distance behind, glowers visible in the dim firelight which just barely reached them. “He has the gall to accuse me, when he attacked me cowardly and unprovoked!”
The men sharing Sarros’ fire began to murmur, but the Actor ignored them. “Enough of that,” he said. “You had me surrounded. I tried to get away, and, well, I got what came to me.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Mochon let me join up, though. I’m one of you now.”
“You think so, do you?” The wounded man laughed and pointed a finger at Sarros’ chest. “Captain doesn’t remember how things used to be, like mah dad taught me. Once upon a while a man had to prove himself to join up with men of the road. Nowadays Captain just says you’re in, and so you are.” The bandit gestured widely with his free arm. “What do you all think about that, boys? Should we initiate the demon in our own way?”
Sarros felt sweat slide down the back of his neck, and it wasn’t just from the intense heat of the fire. All the men in earshot were approaching slowly, muttering, whispering. Sarros had heard the gossip as he wandered the encampment, and he was no fool to begin with. Mochon’s machinations were leading the simple men of the crew to think him soft. Obviously Sarros’ presence by the cook fire instead of in a shallow grave was further proof to this effect. If the almost dozen bandits who were growing ever closer decided to make a rush, Sarros had no delusions as to how many more bowls of disgusting soup he would get to enjoy in his lifetime. He needed to act quickly.
The Actor took a long step towards the bandit who possessed his staff, making the movement look like a stumble. He ended up on one knee before the bandit (with just enough freedom of movement to avoid a heavy shot to the groin or face, if need be) and raised both hands as though to ward off an incoming blow. “Please don’t hurt me!” he said, and allowed a bit of his unease to ferment into a fearful sob. “I didn’t mean to show you up in front of everyone!”
Advertisement
“You did nothing of the sort!” the bandit bellowed. He struck Sarros on the shoulder, but the former Imperial rolled with it, letting his groans make up for the pain he didn’t actually feel. “Coward!” continued the dreadlocked man. He seemed emboldened by his victim’s submission. “I have half a mind to thrash you right here.”
“Well…” Sarros sniffed a fake sniffle, and covered it with an even faker cough. “Sir, I was a top wrestler in the Army. If you think it would even things out between us, we could have a tussle right here.”
The bandit seemed taken aback, but his comrades urged him on from behind. “Get ‘im, Yurhi!” said one. “He’s nothin’ but a twig!”
It was true Sarros’ build was slighter than the bandit’s, and that he stood a good inch or two shorter, but Sarros also spoke the truth when he mentioned his training as an Imperial wrestler. Imperial wrestling, of course, was more a matter of elbows and knees and crushing joints, and less the lumbering, thundering impact of one drunken farmer’s shoulder against another’s gut which was a common sight in taverns and village fairs.
“Uh…” The bandit didn’t seem to know the difference. “All right, you and me.” He suddenly sneered, as if a clever idea had come to his mind. “Think of this as your initiation, demon.”
Sarros was ready for a right hook, but not the left-handed sledgehammer of a fist that clouted him from out of nowhere. The ash walking stick clattered to the ground in time with the Actor’s half-fall, half-roll. The groans of pain which came from his lips were no longer fake. Sarros hadn’t thought his strike to the bandit named Yurhi’s ankle had been powerful enough to cause a lasting injury. The man had apparently been using his ‘injury’ to garner sympathy from the others. “You’re almost as good an actor as myself!” Sarros called as he staggered to his feet. There likely wasn’t any lasting brain injury (he hoped), but everything was a little hard to see for the moment. “Not much of a puncher though!”
The bandit bellowed and rushed Sarros with both arms spread wide, dirty fingernails ready to rake at the Actor’s back should he find himself crushed to the man’s filth-encrusted chest.
With a grunt Sarros sidestepped at the last moment, kicking Yurhi in the back of the knee as he passed, bracing himself on the much greater weight and spinning almost forty-five degrees to slam a hand-braced elbow into the bandit’s ribcage.
“Fuck,” Yurhi wheezed. It wasn’t much of a shout. He staggered forward another step, clutching a hand to his side and turning somewhat slowly to face his would-be victim.
Sarros had largely recovered from his initial wound at this point, and stepped forward with both hands raised in fists before him. He ducked below a too-slow punch and darted in, delivering a sharp knee to the bandit’s diaphragm.
Advertisement
It was another ruse. Yurhi breathed out as Sarros’ knee connected with his abdomen, ignoring the normally devastating attack, grabbing the Actor by his shoulders and thrusting his dreadlocked head down toward Sarros’ unprotected face. He hurled the Actor from him a moment later, howling in agony and clawing at his mashed nose, blood streaming down his jaw and hissing as it spun off into the nearby fire. Sarros had ducked his head down at the last moment, placing his forehead where his nose had been only a moment before.
“All… Right,” Sarros said, out of breath. He hadn’t fought in a long while. Not really fought. The physical exertion wasn’t the exhausting part—that was tiring, to be sure, despite taking place over only a few seconds. The strain of knowing one false move could mean a lifelong injury or worse was the truly exhausting part. It had taken everything Sarros had to avoid those steel-cord muscles. His strikes had been like the stings of a shrike wasp: Painful, ugly, scarring, but not really debilitating unless they had a chance to pile up. Sarros was confident the fight was nearly over, but that just meant the difficult part had arrived. He approached the slowly-retreating Yurhi and did his best to magnify the exhaustion he actually felt, making each plodding step and ragged breath look a hundred times worse. Despite the most worst of the damage existing on Yurhi’s person, Sarros needed to make everyone forget and believe him to have received the worst of it all along. “I’ll… Get you…” he wheezed.
Sure enough, when he got close enough, Yurhi swung with that same, regular left hook. Sarros raised a hand just a purposeful half-second too late, the heavy haymaker brushing past the Actor’s guard and cracking him on the jaw. Sarros let himself fall to the ground, wincing and wishing he’d blocked just a bit more of the strike. He’d have a solid welt come morning. Then the Actor hauled himself back up and waveringly returned his fists to their guard position. “That… The best you got?”
Yurhi, confidence largely regained, laughed and stepped in to slug Sarros in the gut.
This time the Actor did try to block, but he underestimated how much strength the bandit had left, and found himself knocked to the ground again. All right, he thought. Enough playing. He hauled himself up, parried a punch, and with every pound of force he could muster drove a thunderous uppercut into Yurhi’s stubble-covered chin.
The bandit groaned as he staggered back, consciousness faded from his eyes. He crashed down to the ground, and Sarros was quick to to his side as the men around began to shout angrily. This was the tricky part. Yurhi would regain consciousness within a minute or two, but that might be too late if the rest of the men decided to rip this upstart limb from limb straight away. So, Sarros slapped Yurhi’s face frantically until the bandit began to blink and squint at the firelight. Sarros lost no time in throwing the bandit’s arm around his shoulder and hauling Yurhi to his feet. “Fucking good fight!” The Actor shouted, making sure everyone could hear him. “No one in the Army gave me half so good a tussle as that, stars as my witness!” He looked around with what he hoped was fire in his eyes. “It’s a good thing I had my stick when I did, last time. He’d have got me no questions asked if it was man to man from the beginning.”
Yurhi pushed away from Sarros, snorting a wad of coagulated blood onto the ground. “…Yeah, you were pretty quick though,” he said. “I doubt anyone else’s so good with that staff, to get me on the first try.”
“Well,” the Actor said bashfully, “I’m all right. You almost had me there, though. If I hadn’t gotten lucky with that uppercut… Well, three time’s the charm, as they say. You already had me twice.”
The bandit clapped Sarros on the shoulder, almost harder than he’d hit with any of his left hooks. “I guess he’s in, boys. Let no one say the demon won’t fight man to man!”
Sarros finally relaxed as one of the men cheered, and while the others didn’t seem completely placated, they eventually began to talk among themselves again. The looks of hostility, while not eradicated, were at least greatly reduced. Yurhi even told Sarros he was welcome to share the fire of himself and his fellows any time he wanted, and returned the Actor’s walking stick. Sarros grinned and accepted both gratefully, happy to have finally made a semblance of a friend among the rougher of the bandits. He never, of course, let the fact slip from his mind that Yurhi had lain in ambush with a half dozen others to capture, ransom, and maybe torture and murder travelers who happened on his path.
These thoughts and darker ones lurked in Sarros’ mind as he glanced toward the edge of the campfire and saw the nonplussed gaze of Captain Mochon staring back at him. Wart-nosed Turis stood beside him, an oily grin plastered across his face.
Advertisement
- In Serial9 Chapters
Trial of Champions
It all began with a family trip to an amusement park. How were any of us to expect being transported from Earth to participate in some "Trial of Champions," whatever that was supposed to be? Given only an hour to choose the Classes that would come to define our strengths, we were almost immediately torn away from one another and thrust into a deadly game of survival. It wasn't all bad, though, as terrifying as it could be from time to time. The supernatural and magical powers of the Classes were like something out of an RPG, complete with leveling up by killing monsters and completing so-called "Sub-Trials." And despite the juicy Experience to be gained from killing other Champion Contestants, not all of the participants were bloodthirsty murderers; some could be allied with, or even befriended. Even if it seemed like everyone who had been chosen for this Trial, no matter what universe they came from, was at least a little bit crazy. I would survive this till the end, and I'd make sure that my siblings and parents did as well, no matter how many times we were separated from one another. No matter how long it took. No matter what I had to do. --- A first-person litRPG incorporating classes inspired by D&D and other sources. If you like blue boxes but don't need to have huge lists of numbers to scratch your itch, you should be satisfied on that front. Each chapter is, in my word processing document, seven pages long (approximately 3300-3900 words). The Traumatizing Content warning is there because of discussions of certain topics. Nothing that I think deserves the warning actually happens in the story.
8 94 - In Serial10 Chapters
Stairway to Heaven
Humans are complicated, awfully fragile beings, far too weak to survive amid the other extraterrestrials that lie dormant across the galaxies. Instead of physical altercations, they would rather engage in verbal abuse, breaking an individual's psyche as a hobby. They excel at deception and manipulation, far too interested in bringing their brothers and sisters down and reaching for the top of their self-made hierarchies. Beyond their questionable nature and moral compasses, they long to find meaning in their lives and put names to the feelings that drive each passing moment. They are insatiable—far too greedy for more knowledge and a supposed understanding of their lives. It's pitiable, really, the way they struggle to find themselves while ravaging their kind through petty wars and conflicts built off of misunderstanding. Humans are complicated, awfully fragile beings. They created words and languages to fill the holes that lived inside their souls, desperate for ways to find meaning in their incredibly short lifespans. They'll waste their entire lives trying to find their so-called passions and reasons for living, acting as if they truly rule the way their lives go, supposed "controllers of their own destiny." Yet, they cannot evade the inevitable visit from death, who stands next to them, ticking the seconds down until their demise.
8 98 - In Serial86 Chapters
Rogue Assassin (Pantheon #2 - a LitRPG fantasy adventure)
A world of villains is no place for a hero... Imprisoned for a crime he barely remembers, Gunnar is forced to labor in an underground prison camp. But if he works hard, he earns time in a beta test for the first fully immersive online RPG.Pantheon Online is beyond anything Gunnar has ever experienced, but the game is inextricably linked to his reality as a prisoner. He may not be the best or the brightest criminal, but if he fails to perform... things are not going to go well for him.Gunnar must quickly learn to navigate a cutthroat city of thieves and assassins, garner the favor of a goddess, earn his way into a guild, and try not to be the brunt of all the AI's jokes. But there's more going on, and the further Gunnar advances, the more he realizes that he is in for the ride of his life. Or is it... for his life? Arc 1 is now available exclusively on Amazon. The Second Arc is updating regularly here on RR... Updates on Mondays and Fridays. Chapters about 1500 words.If you'd like to read ahead and offer input on the Second Arc, support the story on Patreon.
8 252 - In Serial18 Chapters
Silence
What do you do when you can't hear, feel, taste, or smell anything? What world do you live in? Current schedule: on hiatus Tags: Action, Sci-fi, Virtual Reality, Male Lead
8 158 - In Serial200 Chapters
Some of my favorite comments on Wattpad
Read the title :) there also some random stuff in here like random pics and among us comments
8 202 - In Serial32 Chapters
mistakes like this, hockstetter ✩ೃ
𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒. in which patrick hockstetter, a boy who is full of mistakes, comes across a girl who challenges him to be better.*·˚ ༘♡❨ EST. 2019 ❩ ✓ written by kaya.patrick hockstetter x fem!reader
8 105