Walking over towards Grok’s residence, the trio was followed by a rather larger crowd of curious onlookers. ‘Apparently he hasn’t had time to implement the new training schedule; thought Andrew with a wry smile, full of expectations of what is to come in the near future.

“Andrew please don’t grin like that, it is slightly disturbing,” muttered Lisia as she glanced over to man where the goblins seemed petrified because of the little action.

“Don’t tell me how to live my life and I won’t tell you how to live yours,” spoke Andrew as he continued to grin whilst juggling a few pebbles just to see the reactions of the crowds face. “Wait, I did tell how to live your life already, but that was regarding the whole, ‘it is easier to stay alive if you aren’t some pacifist who is seeming ready to die tragically instead of shedding the blood of the little monsters.’ “

“Yeah, well, this and that are different. Before it was survival, now it’s bullying the little goblins - “

“Who kidnapped and nearly raped you?” Interrupted Andrew as he indifferently shrugged his shoulders, “why should I care about their well-being? I’m just getting paid, albeit in material goods, to help these guys become self-sufficient. If that means a little bit of slightly entertaining training methods, then by all means. Don’t have higher expectations for me than what I, myself, can reasonably accomplish. If that meant running away from a zombie swarm and leaving these ones to fend for themselves, likely I’d do it.”

Lisia sighed, not pressing the conversation further. Reaching the doorway of the Chief’s home, the trio walked straight in, not even bothering to call or knock.

Seeing a lazy goblin stained red while covering himself with the pelt of one of the wolves as a blanket, Andrew’s expression dropped. ‘Is this a racial thing? Disgusting creatures. Well, I guess I just hoped Taryk was a special case, but clearly not…’

“Chief?” Called Taryk softly nudging him lightly - then slapped him and screamed it once more, “CHIEF!”

While the goblin chief was slowly stirring from his slumber, Andrew got impatient.

“So what can I do for you bastards,” grumbled the goblin as he drank some siphoned wolf blood out of a goblet with one hand while rubbing his forehead with the other. “I had to deal with the armor for most of the afternoon and then all of a sudden I hear half the fucking village is unconscious. Where do you think I got those problems from, I wonder.”

“Armor, wolf training progress, and I was curious if you knew something about coffee.” Stated Andrew matter-of-factly, though the last request had a somewhat hopeless feel behind it. “Oh, and we’re going to kill some of the wolv- that’s not it, the bandits? Yeah, them,” even though he was getting more and more used to being without it, seeing the morning drink in the Chief’s hands reminded him of his most loved possession back home.

“The armor is just behind you in that chest,” nodded Grok towards a rather worn wooden chest with brass bearings, “as for the other two, the bandits were, as I’ve said before, about two hours or so southwest in a mine. Coffee? Sounds pretentious, try the elves perhaps -”

“Ah, I see. So I just have to kill a few elves and then I’ll get coffee, weapons, and maybe money. Taryk, Lisia you know where we’re going now, hey?”

“Stop!” cried Lisia, evidently with her village being closest near their location, the idea of Andrew slaughtering her family wasn’t a very pleasant thought. “Trade! How in the hell did you just jump to murdering my kin!?” Fumed Lisia as she glared at the three men who had eager looks on their faces.

“Fastest way to get coffee.”

“Boss knows there is more to be gained, he is an inspiration to us all!”

“It seemed the easiest way, two birds and so on.”

Murmured the three with sparkling eyes, where only Andrew matched her stare. Sighing lightly he muttered, “Fine, let’s not slaughter the village - BUT, and I mean it, I reserve the right to kill anyone who pisses me off, family or not. It will be your job to act as an ambassador of sorts for me. Fuck, anyways lets just kill those bandits and be done with it though.”

Ignoring the remainder of the continuing conversation around him, Andrew went to the chest to pick up the armor he requested last night

Wolf Fur Half Cuirass of the Western Wind

Required level 10

Defence rating 16

Durability 25/25

Special Effects: Agility +1, Endurance +1, Strength +1

Small Affinity to Poison, 5% resistant to all poisons and diseases.

Although at most it looked like a grey leather vest, it still was was better than wearing his abused, blood dyed undershirt during combat.Taking a look at his stats he was rather happy to see the changes.

Andrew Marks

Level 10

Defense Rating: 19

Poison Resistance 5%

Str: 13 (+1) (+1)

Agi: 21 (+1) (+2) (+1)

Per: 14 (+1)

End: 10 (+1) (+1)

Vit: 10 (+1)

Int: 9 (+1)

Wis: 8 (+1)

Chr: 9 (+1)

Lck: ? (+1)

Affinity:

(Temporary) Small Poison Affinity: Grants the bearer a small chance of causing poison damage on each blow. If under the influence of a foreign poison or disease, the bearer will gain a slight bonus in recovering from, and bearing with, such an ailment.

Status:

Skill:

Dual Wielding (Beginner: 6): While wielding two weapons Damage Rating penalty is reduced by 30%. Penalty currently at 20%. Grants easier range of motion and knowledge of advanced techniques are granted at base level up of the skill.

Improvisation (Beginner: 3): You arm yourself to the teeth before encounter any situation, using any available tactics and weapons in a manner to ensure your survival in this new age. Increases attack rating by 7% for all weapons. Increases hit chance and critical chance by 2.5% for all weapons (be in, physical damage based melee, thrown, or projectile). Spell failure rate decreases by 3.5% and spell duration increases by 3.5%. +1 to all stats including luck.

Significantly more excited than when he left for the wolf hunt, he half-dragged his still conversing companions out of the door as he armed himself fully. Three short copper swords hung on the fraying holster, the short bow strung up on his back, and the quiver of arrows hanging off of his right shoulder. And to top it all off, a small dagger placed inside the seam of his boxers.

Eventually he gave up on dragging the struggling companions and simply walked towards the end of town. At the end of camp’s borders he met a little wolf cub who seemed to excitedly jump up and down, barking all the while.

“Did you ‘play’ with the goblins yet?” A few yips and barks later, Andrew shook his head lightly, sighing, “no, if you can’t even harass unarmed green half-men then why should I take you to fight real people. With all due respect Taryk,” spoke Andrew as he glanced over to see the slightly out of breath elf and leisurely goblin approaching.

“None taken, it’s not exactly wrong anyways. I am rather hesitant to spar with the cub... well, unarmed, anyways. Give me a spear any day and the kid won’t even realise he turned into a kabob,” smirked Taryk devilishly as he twirled his spear dangerously close to the fuming wolf. The wolf indifferently swatted it away, surprising the goblin, however, he still kept his provocative smirk.

Feeling somewhat lenient towards the bickering pair - for reasons beyond him at the time, only two regular pebbles were launched. With their experience they didn’t even bother to dodge as the pebbles sailed past their faces, scraping only a small layer of skin off in the process.

“Let’s move, I won’t feel safe sleeping in a village that, a: doesn’t have any trained soldiers, b: has civilians who are susceptible to die at any given moment from a stray fucking dog, and c: doesn’t have coffee.”

“... Your real reason is you want to arm yourself and, in turn, your allies so you can raid an elf village - all for some strange plant?” Muttered Lisia who immediately saw through his plan. At this point she simply gave up on any further comments, but that didn’t stop Taryk and the wolf cub to ponder about what such a plant could do to cause a man to do so much to obtain it.

Sensing some order, in other words, silence, returning to their group, Andrew once again ordered, “Runt, seriously. Play with some of those goblins and I’ll take you on the raid later; not slaughtering the elves... yet,” completely confirming Lisia’s suspicions, though she didn’t quite feel like bringing it up again to the excited man.

With slightly lonely shadow departing from the group, Lisia once more felt a small sense of pity for the wolf, ‘all alone in such a foreign place, I wonder if he can adapt after leaving his pack, basically all he has is us three… the other two don’t really count, do they?’ Glancing around, she soon found herself alone. Two figures, one small and one large, faded away quickly from sight as they entered the forest’s interior.

While moving forward towards the mine they did encounter a few wolves, but oddly they seemed to bow excessively to man before he could even think to attack. Word had clearly spread amongst the pack and it seemed few even wanted to see the strange man, let alone fight him. Awkwardly scratching his head the first time, he soon gave up on caring about the peculiar show of courtesy and ignored them entirely on later encounters.

After an hours walk Andrew complained lightly, “Ah, I really, really shouldn’t have equipped myself to this extent before I left,” as he deposited two swords which, unfortunately, kept smacking into his legs with every step.

“Obviously,” muttered Lisia, whereas Taryk sarcastically pointed out, “you don’t say? The only one here which has some magical appearing/disappearing bag thing decided to do things the normal way and is complaining?”

“You can’t really see where I’m coming from, how many times have you carried a bow with a quiver, three swords, and a dagger - in addition to actual clothes?

“Laundry day?” Joked Lisia before she received an irritated look from Andrew. Although it stopped her, she still held a slightly bashful smirk, as per usual he sighed and kept walking.

Wearing only the bow and a single sword in addition to his gear now, Andrew felt his load decrease by a fair bit. Though he was somewhat tired from the walking, boredom got to him more so. Every now and again he would notch an arrow or toss a pebble at some small critter in the forest’s canopy above of them. While occasionally the arrows did miss; the pebbles did not.

For a small bird or squirrel one blow with either was typically lethal to the creature, but sometimes he would have to end the beast’s life with his own hands. During his trek, he filled his inventory with snacks for later and even pledged to learn a fire magic skill to be able to cook, eat, and walk.

Eventually they did finally reach the more mountainous region, indicating that the mine would not be far from their location. Wordlessly Andrew, Taryk, and Lisia all brought out their weapons from their bodies and advanced more cautiously.

After some time, Lisia, in the middle of the two, nudged Andrew slightly before pointing off into the distance. Following her gaze, Andrew drew his bow and motioned her to do the same.

*whoose*

With two arrows sailing past the same gaps in the thinning brush, a slight gasp was heard before something hit the hard ground.

“What was that? Marcus, are you… you… what happened?!” Screamed a voice off in the distance.

Lisia notched another arrow and set it flying past the trees. This time while the cry was much, much louder, it was still rather brief.

Hearing a low voice muttering, “well, thanks for giving me a chance, you guys.”

“Stop fidgeting, if you want someone to blame, blame yourself. Learn how to throw that thing fifty yards then you can join in the festivities. Oh, hopefully one of those two had a half decent sword, spear, or damn near anything that won’t shatter on a bloody wolf,” spoke Andrew, leaking a little bit of malice when he gazed at the poorly made short sword.

Casually approaching the two sentries, the trio gazed at the two bodies. ‘Both elves, hey? All the more reason to take a bigger look at the village,’ mused Andrew with a predatory grin on his face. Seeing an iron blade on the ground, evidently dropped when the man tried to cover his throat, Andrew picked it up to inspect the sword.

[Dull Iron Pointed Golok

Damage Rating: 6-9

Durability 37/45

No Level Requirement

A single bladed weapon created in large quantities to supply military forces. Made from an adequate blacksmith, this weapon will stand the test of time - should appropriate maintenance be completed at regular intervals.]

‘Golok? What in the actual fuck? Whatever, pointed machete short sword.’ With a single, slightly curved edge, sharpened triangular point at the tip, the sword reminded Andrew of an odd looking machete. Though it was longer than his previous weapons, it wasn’t unbearable. Having an actually handle that didn’t restrict his grip was also a welcome surprise.

Taking a practise swing, mutilating the sentry’s corpse to a small degree in the process, Andrew stripped off the bandit’s woolen undershirt. Though blood, dirt, and grim marked a few locations on it, it was at least marginally better than his current tattered shirt.

Glancing over at the other corpse, Andrew shook his head. “Eating animals like the little monster you are is all well and good, but - and by that I mean, actually fucking just don’t, I’d rather not have you nibbling on the bodies on humanoids. Seriously, stop you fucking glutton.” The goblin simply ignored the exasperated man. With a pebble launched at a high velocity the goblin did finally back off, however.

With a growing immunity to such occurrences, Lisia, though disgusted, did not even reprimand the unsavory actions of the goblin. Instead she passed off her bow to Andrew and picked up the surprisingly elegant elven made bow which was dropped by the other elf - whom had his neck and shoulder devoured to a small degree.

In a few moments, the pouting goblin finally calmed down, the indifferent man walked forward, and the elf refastened the new quiver and bow.

Once more on the way towards the mine, the three no longer attacked from afar. Taryk, being the prime cause of this, marched forward while glaring at a napping human shouted, “wake up, I’m going to kill you, but I’d like to have a bit of a challenge, ya know.”

To the human, however, it was a series of feral snarls and animalistic barks. The surprised man, though intimidated at first say the goblin and laughed callously. Slowly equipping himself with his iron sword, not unlike Andrew’s new toy, the bandit approached the goblin who casually waited on him to prepare.

Although, the bandit did call out to the goblin, Taryk simply shrugged and approached with his spear drawn. The bandit coldly laughed and approached as well. As soon as the two were within reach the bandit swung his sword aiming for his opponents chest. Calmly stepping off to the side, Taryk swept his spear at his opponents feet knocking the bandit to the ground.

Exhaling loudly, Taryk stabbed his spear into the bandits stomach. Withdrawing it calmly he turned to walk away muttering, “too easy, when will I- OW SON OF A BITCH!”

In a last ditch effort to harm the goblin, the bandit slashed wildly at the slowly retreating figure of the goblin. Inflicting multiple slashes into the goblin legs and back before Taryk had a chance to jump away.

With rage burning in his obsidian eyes, Taryk pounced on the human ripping off his sword before using it amputate each and every limb on his body. Left with a sliver of life the bandit stared wide-eyed at the goblin who began to feast on the shoulder of the downed opponent.

“Figures, he is just that kind of guy,” spoke Andrew indifferently before continuing, “he had to learn his lesson sooner or later, it definitely could have been worse.” With his eyes, he motioned Lisia who was standing in the distance looking at the grisly scene to heal Taryk.

As the spell began to take effect Lisia murmured, “because you are the reason this happened - actually it’s probably Andrew’s fault entirely - but still, either way you’re only getting patched up just enough to move. Nothing more,” while the bleeding was stopped and the wounds closed; long scars and bruises of the exchange marked his nude body.

“... And this here is why armor is a good thing, or at the very least, clothes. But nudist goblins are free to suffer if they so choose.”

With a slight limp, Taryk pleaded Lisia to heal him further, but no matter what was said she simply ignored the little green man and continued to walk forward with Andrew who came up to grab the sword from the newly deceased bandit.

Depositing his copper sword, that was still hanging from his waist, he wielded the two blades as he marched forward into the bandit's den.

Even as they approached what seemed to be an entrance to the mine, no bandits barred their way. Whether it was the screams from earlier or a matter of preferring to hang out in the darkness of the mine shafts themselves, the bandits hid themselves from the group.

“Taryk, don’t play around this time. Lisia fire-at-will - just not at me, preferably. Now let’s do this,” spoke Andrew loudly as he began to holler at the bandits to come out.

Not caring from formalities, as the first bandit exited, Andrew launched an arrow, clipping the bandit in the shoulder before he shouted, “ATTACK! HELP!”

Soon after, bandits poured out of the entrance in irregular intervals. The first wave of five or six bandits barely exited the mine before they found themselves riddled with arrows. The second managed to go a bit further, but ultimately were downed groaning in pain. The third and fourth attacked together. Those who could, dodged and ducked some of the arrows as they ran towards the group and those that couldn’t were used as temporary shields for the bandits advance..

Taryk was the first to meet them, with a few jabs at their throats and chest they, too, fell. Those that discarded Taryk as a threat had ran up to meet with the two archers while more and more were pouring out. Facing the approaching bandits, Andrew tossed his quiver to Lisia and picked up his two blades on his waist.

When one slashed at him, he raised his blade to meet up with the attack, as he impaled the bandit with the other. Swinging his sword sideways, he launched the blocked sword into the emerging crowd in front of him hearing a sharp cry of pain. Raising both swords he blocked another two slashes, however, it left him defenceless for a third approaching him from below.

As soon as the dagger came from underneath, Andrew panicked excessively, but that wasn’t enough to dodge the blade. Feeling a sharp pain very, very close to location he was rather protective over, he exploded. After kicking the tiny elf in the face, knocking him unconscious, he slashed wildly with abandon. Severing limbs, heads, and all other manners body parts while only dodging the lethal blows.

As he emerged from the circle of corpses, which started to become piled high, he noticed Taryk and Lisia cooperating seamlessly. With arrows picking off the bodies around the goblin, Taryk focused on stabbing his spear to those in front - occasionally skewering two at a time in the densely packed line. With him in front, few were able to sneak past, those that did, however, were riddled with arrows - never quite able to catch the nimble elf.

With a few dozen corpses, or those infinitely close being one, the onslaught grinded to a halt. Though a loud raged filled roar did break the trio’s opportunity to celebrate, they didn’t stop finishing off the few remaining bandits who seemed to be momentarily stunned.

As the last was promptly put out of the way, Andrew turned to see the goliath panther man walking out of the entrance. While his head was entirely black, his body maintained a healthy degree of sun exposure allowing Andrew to pick him out of the pitch black entrance. Even if it was midday the entrance itself was suspiciously dark, he didn’t dwell on it too much.

At a staggering 8 feet tall, the panther man wielded a large double headed battle ax. With a wicked curve seen almost exclusively on those intended for public executions and size of the ax nearing Andrew’s own height, he hefted it up on to his shoulder nearly effortlessly.

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Chapter RSS About the author 3 Fictions 65 Posts 2 Threads Ambush Follow Author Wednesday, December 30, 2015 6:24:27 PM Thursday, December 31, 2015 7:13:39 AM Canada Shy Penguin

Bio: Chronic Inability to Finish Stories; CIFS for short. A major affliction that has gripped me in its steely maw for weeks, months, and (shivers) shows no sign of stopping.

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