Having spent most of the night making things, he was feeling surprisingly good about himself. Naturally, nothing of this could be considered good or even acceptable by most standards, but his standard was very, very low. The bed was just a frame on the floor to keep the moss and soft things contained. It was crude, to say the least, but it worked! He had a softer bed than he had before! Spending considerable time going through the moss, leaves and whatnot that he used as bedding to make sure there were no bugs or weird stuff in it, he felt confident in the end. Besides, he was living in a cave so... insects were probably unavoidable in the long run. The ‘canteen’ was also surprisingly easy to make in theory. Just get a coconut out of the husk and make a small hole in it, drink the contents, or leave it, but make a wooden plug to shove into the hole and you have a simple canteen. Now, that was the theory, the result was that he ended up with... more than one bowl out of this process. Breaking them by adding too much pressure, or just failing to open or remove the husk. It took quite some time before he got one he was happy enough with. The plug was surprisingly simple to make as it was just a somewhat conically shaped stick.
If nothing else, he could understand how crafters liking their craft could enjoy their time, making things with your own hands was surprisingly nice, not something he had done for years.
Making a carrying bag out of some large leaves folded together and wrapped in some vines as rope also worked after a few tries. Was it a good container? No, absolutely not, but it beat trying to carry things by hand. Since he couldn’t manage to make that ‘sphere holding knot’ type wrapping so he could carry the coconut like a bag, this worked better. He was also considering trying to make scabbards out of this but fell somewhat short as he didn’t feel confident in it being good enough to protect his body with blades in them... A few wrong moves and he’d stab himself with his weapons.
He had slept a lot the days before, and now with a bed, he got some rest as well before daybreak. It felt extremely nice to just lay down in a bed even as crude as this, but his day was barely starting.
Packing up his things, which consisted of filling his makeshift canteen and putting it in his leaf bag, bringing his shoes that he tried, and failed, to tie to his feet he just bagged the surplus shoes before leaving, using two of his Psyhands to hold them against his feet. It took some practice before he felt safe enough to climb with them, but since the Psyhands didn't have any arms attached to them, at least that part was not an issue.
Shortly after feeling confident in his makeshift shoes, he started climbing, starting near his cave entrance. He used the Psyhands to probe for good places to grab with his hands or place his feet and also to check for creatures already perched there. Not good to grab a piece of rock only to find some stinging or biting creature there.
The climb worked surprisingly well. His plan and makeshift shoes worked as well, though since they weren’t fastened to his feet properly it was more like climbing on coconut shells with his feet, so the traction was two-fold. Rather than traction between the shoe and the surface, with the shoe securely fastened to the foot, it became traction between his foot and the shell which in turn had traction with the surface. It wasn’t perfect but it protected his feet from the worst of the rocks. He wasn’t exactly strong, but he was fine enough for his body weight, making surprising progress with the various vines, roots, trees and stone-holding spots he found on the way. It didn’t take long before he had managed to get up to a surprising height, wondering how the fuck he was going to get back down once he decided to stop.
As he got started properly he saw that there was a large pool of water through the source of the waterfall outside his cave, there were a lot of fish in there and the pool was significantly larger than his own, this was probably where the few fish in his pool came from. A good thing to know about.
Continuing, another thing he didn’t expect was the increased wind as he got higher, given his naked form and the need to spread his legs out, the wind around his nether regions and between his cheeks was a... strange and vulnerable feeling he didn’t foresee before this started.
He had to take frequent breaks, and his increased stamina from becoming a Player still only stretched so far, it was interesting but also terrifying. Without that boost, he would have done much worse. The adrenaline and stress from climbing kept him warmish, though as his fingers cooled down slightly it became a bit harder to climb, warranting another break in relative protection from the wind, letting the sun warm him up again before continuing.
Counting himself lucky that he was not afraid of heights, it was somewhat hard to keep that feeling as he got higher and higher, the danger from falling having already passed terminal a while ago. There was a kind of natural fear in the back of his head that screamed for him to stop this lunacy. But he continued, counting himself lucky that there were still enough stable hand and footholds, only almost falling a few times due to the root giving way or the foothold not being stable enough. With enough breaks, he eventually found himself at the mountain peak!
It took most of the day, he was glad he had the water with him but since there was a waterfall and stream leading up most of the mountain he was more annoyed that he didn’t consider packing food. Having stopped before he reached the topmost of the multi-peak mountain he decided that it was good enough, at least for now. The wind was also biting cold, to the point that he sought refuge behind trees, boulders or anything that would shield him. If nothing else the view up there was breathtaking, had it been in better circumstances. He also got to see what he wanted.
This place was an Island, it was massive, and walking from one side to the other would easily take a whole day if not more. Probably mainly due to the terrain and lack of proper sight of any landmarks due to the trees and vegetation blocking everything. It was surprisingly round, having a beach running around the whole perimeter as far as he could see. The whole island was covered in trees, mostly palms and jungle but there seemed to be some odd coloured ones scattered in here and there. A few smaller mountains, or exceptionally large rocks, stood up between the trees here and there. Several lakes scattered the lands with a larger one looking like a sideways number 9, with an island in the ‘eye’ of the number. Several camps lay around the perimeter as well as what looked like the one he ran from in the mouth of the number. There were some clearings of sorts between the trees scattered about. Some looked manufactured through deforestation, others looked more natural due to the lakes or just something else.
He could see what looked like ruins in a few spots, large stone constructions reclaimed by time. The most interesting at the moment was something that looked like an older camp, it had a similar feel to it as the bandit camp he escaped from, just that it had no fires and from this distance looked abandoned. The camp he ran from was near water, most likely fresh, the other was seemingly in the middle of nowhere, so if it was the same people living there they probably abandoned it for a better location.
Deciding to not go back down just yet, he wandered about in the plateau on the top of the mountain, the wind was surprisingly calm and warm within the forest up there, and hadn’t it been for how hard it was to get up or down, he could have made that place a relatively safe base. Popping back out towards the ledges to get a better look at things down on ground level before retreating in the warmth, gave him a decent overview of the lay of the land. Wondering if the different camps were allies or enemies gave him some thought about abusing their animosity towards each other. If they were allies it was a bit worse for him. How these people got here was also a question, if they were all transported here like Sam was, were they Ascendants as well?
If so, the System either had a horrible sense of humour or a poor choice of character. He was still here without a quest or mission, he had checked the quest log many times, and he had no idea what he was supposed to be doing. Right now he was just surviving, barely. Or rather, once he found the cave he was doing somewhat well for himself. He now had food and water, a place to rest... if he could get down from here. Now he just needed clothing, or better yet; the rest of his gear.
Due to how the mountain sloped, he could more easily get down on the side that faced the 9-lake, which meant the side facing the camp he ran away from. He did intend to get a closer look after he had escaped, but he didn't feel like doing so naked. That being said, going there was almost a guarantee to get some clothing.
Using a few minutes to consider what to do, the smartest thing might be to wait until the next day before getting down, however, he didn’t have a good place to sleep nor did he feel safe up here. Even if it got dark he could feel around with his Psyhands, he only needed 9 to carry his weapons, and his makeshift bag held his coconut, leaving 13 hands to feel around with. That should be plenty.
Deciding to start going down, he could find a place to pause if needed, he quickly found that the trip down on this side of the mountain was substantially easier than the other. Even though he had to swap his ‘shoes’ a few times as they finally wore out, and the downward pressure was too much at times, he managed to get to the base of the mountain in almost record time. The first third was a bit dodgy as it was steeper, but once he passed that the terrain flattened out considerably, almost to the point that he could just hike downwards.
The sun was setting, and it wasn’t long after that it had again gotten dark, he could leave for his little cave, or he could take a trip past the big camp for some resources first. The thirst for revenge got the better of him, he wanted his stuff back and though he took out some of them on the way out, there were still plenty left. They had clothes he could clean and use. Knowing from weight estimates when working in the corner store, he couldn’t carry a grown man but he could drag him if he didn’t struggle. He had a plan, the first person alone from their group was going to donate.
Doing his best to sneak, even without his gear, bending his knees and taking his time stepping, listening, taking it calm with his weapons floating around, he made slow progress. He avoided stepping on the pointy things on the ground by using his coconut shoes. They weren’t perfect nor comfortable, but as with the mountain, it beat getting wounded in this stranded situation.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
It took some time before he heard someone, it was two of them and they were walking around with a torch for lighting, talking about things they missed from Earth since they came here. Metaphorical dick-waggling about how many women they wanted or how much alcohol they could drink was the gist of their talk. He didn’t feel confident in being able to take out two people at the same time, not without all his daggers. But since they were so nicely lighting themselves up, he could confirm that one of them had a dagger in what looked like a bark sheath on his hip, and the other had a short sword or longer dagger, he didn’t know from this distance.
“Hold on, just gotta take a piss.” One of them commented, which felt like a gift to Sam. he was serving himself on a platter.
“Aait.” The man with the torch commented as he kept walking for a few more steps before stopping.
The man fumbled with his belt and pants to get ready to do his business, though he wasn’t exactly around the torch it was plenty of light for Sam to line up his attacks. Knowing from experience with earlier targets, if he took his time and accurately hit logical weak points, like the throat, neck and such, it would be a guaranteed critical hit. However that took considerable focus to get all blades properly aligned before attacking, and he couldn’t do much movement. Luckily, when pissing in the woods you don’t always move around that much, so he took his time.
[ Silent Killer activated. ]
[ Critical hit, double damage. ]
[ Critical hit, double damage. ]
[ Critical hit, double damage. ]
[ Critical hit, double damage. ]
[ Critical hit, double damage. ]
[ Critical hit, double damage. ]
The man had zero chance. Never before had Sam gotten this much time to line up all weapons properly. Aiming everything at his neck and in a single move he pulled them all through the soft flesh. Though no weapon triggered their abilities, the sheer damage was more than enough to take him out and cut his head off through the six weapons, with one being a scimitar.
Had there been enough light around him, the blood splatter would have been gruesome, but instead, it all happened under the cover of darkness. Though this wasn’t entirely silent the man with the torch didn’t react until the body fell with a thud.
“You ok? Sounded like you fell down.” He didn’t sound worried, more like he was ready to mock his friend profusely when he confirmed that he fell when pissing in the jungle.
Instead, he got the six blades coated with the blood of his friend raking across his face, neck and chest. No critical hits this time but the total damage was enough to take him out. He made sure to get the torch up from the ground as he fell, so he didn’t start any forest fires. Using some dirt he rolled it around until it stopped burning, was surprisingly easy to just jam the fiery end into the ground for it to stop burning.
Needing a few minutes for his eyes to get used to the dark again he spent that time just listening for anyone, feeling confident when he didn’t hear anything besides forest sounds once the fire was put out, he went through the men’s equipment.
One man had peed himself when he fell, so those pants weren’t interesting, though the other man had clean pants. The pants were made of some leather-looking material, they could very well be leather but he hadn’t felt leather this soft, perhaps they had a crafter? It didn’t matter, they were a bit too big for him but there was some cordage to use as a belt, so he was happy. The man also had a shirt of the same material, it felt like a few numbers too large, but he didn’t care; it was clothing. The shoes were far too big, but he felt good when the pissing man’s shoes, first of all, weren’t hit by his stream and secondly, fit better to his feet. They were made entirely of leather, with several pieces stacked on top of each other and sewn together as soles with some wrapping around the material to create an enclosed shoe. It didn’t smell entirely good but it was better than the coconuts!
Refusing to use their underwear, he’d just have to go without, but this was much, much better than before. Having some flexible leather clothing as well as shoes made him feel incredibly good about himself. Even though they were drenched in blood, they could be cleaned away when he got back to the cave.
As far as gear went, their weapons were crude and primitive, but to his surprise, their damage values were still within the expected norm. The Dagger had a Damage rating of 5, and the Short Sword had 7. It wasn’t the best but it was still an upgrade, and since he could wield a bunch more weapons there was no need to not take them. Not liking that he needed two Psyhands to wield the short sword he still took it for now. They didn’t seem to have anything else on them, and since the pants didn’t have any pockets there was not much else to rummage through.
Now he just needed to decide to go check out the camp or to head back. Being this close was practical, he somewhat knew the way back to his little cave, even in the dark. It helped that there was a sound beacon, meaning the waterfall, to help guide him when he got close. He decided to check out the camp.
Continuing in the cover of darkness he snuck to the bandit camp he escaped from. Keeping to the treeline and staying out of the lit areas, he took his time to scout around. The adrenaline from the situation kept him from growing tired, even though he had been doing a lot of working out today, at least for him. Looking around in the camp, moving from point to point to not linger, there weren’t too many people doing things. Though as it was the middle of the night this made sense. This did give him a good idea, he wanted to see what was going on with the Boss who had his gear. And guessing that the most fancy tent was his place, he looked for something that could be considered the most fancy ‘building’ in the camp.
It didn’t take long for him to find it, most of the tents were just that, tents. They were multi-people tents made of pieces of leather sewn or somehow attached, creating a kind of tarp-based tent. Worked fine to keep the water out and heat in. Most of them had an opening towards fire and were placed in rough rings around larger fireplaces, so one fire could heat multiple tents. He could see the holding area he was in when he came to, but there were no prisoners there at the moment... Seemed like the others either didn’t make it or were taken care of the following day.
Choosing to ignore that for now, they had their chance, he continued to look for, and found, what he assumed to be the boss's tent. Or rather, the boss’s building. An actual wooden building, crude and simple but still a proper building, stood between the tents. It was placed on the landmass in the mouth of the 9-lake, where the landmass went into the bottom curly part of the 9-shape. This made it surprisingly easy, and hard, to access it. He either needed to walk through the whole camp or swim. He was an acceptable swimmer but he had never tried to swim silently before, and he didn’t know what lived in the waters there. A brief thought was that he was dressed as them, so if he just walked through the camp as if he belonged there, that could work. Though it might work if he put that away, he would be too well-armed or have floating weapons following him... not exactly hard to guess.
No, the most likely options were to sneak through or swim. He contemplated this as he relocated slightly closer and found that the sneaking option was probably the best. Though the camp was lit by campfire, there were still plenty of dark places not touched by the light. He could probably walk upright and not be seen, and even if he was they would probably assume that he belonged here, that was the natural thing, after all... Right?
His desperation for his gear’s protection had him continue with that plan. He kept to the shadows and tried to move relatively naturally through the camp. It worked fine, people around were busy with whatever they were doing, and being barely awake from before helped the situation. He was noticed once but the man who looked at him just nodded upwards, Sam had a moment of inner crisis but nodding upwards in return as he continued to move seemed to pacify the situation. He kept his weapons as high up in the air as he could, hiding them in the darkness. Doing his best to keep the edges pointed towards the source of light it should, hopefully, cut down on reflections in the metal as well.
Being surprised that this worked so well, he found himself at the little hut in the middle of the camp, doing his best to sneak over there he found a window at an elevation. The building was made of sturdy sticks either tied or somehow glued together, but there weren’t enough gaps to properly look through, so he needed the window. He couldn’t reach it without aid but there were several simple boxes around. Being relatively lightweight he was able to slowly and silently move a box to the point he needed to be able to stand on it. The wood creaked slightly as he stepped on it but remained strong.
Peering into the windowless room he saw what he needed, he held back a dissatisfied click of his tongue as he saw the boss sleeping in there, but with all his gear on him even when sleeping. The room didn’t have much interest besides the simplest of chairs, something that could work as a table and some seemingly random objects.
He wanted to take him out, he wanted his stuff back, but there wasn’t much he could do. Even with perfect critical hits, the Defense rating of 40 would only let the Moonblade make it through, and that damage would barely kill Sam... This man probably had much smarter consideration of stat placements...
Though... his carrying capacity wasn’t that strong with the Psyhands, strangling or breaking his neck was out of the question. If he could shove something in his mouth, something that couldn’t be grabbed with normal hands. Like water or dirt, he could keep that in place for him to choke? Pinching or plugging the nose is easy, but if he just gets it in his throat the nose isn’t an issue.
“The fuck you doing?” A voice behind him asked suddenly.