Running away, a practice commonly used by cowards, at the first signs of trouble, fleeing—without remorse.

“Why! Why always me?”

Nayb was getting exhausted, he was just sleeping peacefully a moment ago, in his cell, on a pirate ship. So when he found himself woken up by the sounds of wood and metal, crushing into a mountain of stones, he desperately tried to stand,but the dizziness he got when he got thrown off earlier made him pause. Slowly, deliberately, he stood, clutching the steel bars on his cell with his shackled hands. There he noticed, about half of his room was missing. He shrugged, walked out of his cell, remarking the lack of [Guards] of any sorts. Was this ship under attack? He was hearing a lot of shouting, probably outside, but no sounds of fighting nearby.

“Come to think of it Na--Trafe!” he shouted, looked around the other cells, surely he would find him in one of the cells. He slowly searched, while being watchful, he checked his footing, making sure not to fall off on some of the damaged floorboards.

He didn't find Trafe, or any sorts of people. Frowning, he made his way out of the ship. He was starting to get worry, not because Trafe was missing, nothing to worry about him. No, what he was really worried about was in fact the ship! or more exactly, What did Trafe do to the ship and their crews? if there really was any, for all Nayb knew, the ship could just be sentient and didn't need a crew, but how did they get here?

He remember being out of the ocean, and he was also searching for Trafe, who Nayb knew was not a good of a swimmer. What if, only Nayb got rescued and not Trafe? Fuck—

He ran, thoughts getting wild, he saw a large hole on the ground, just near the stairs, he jumped, landed on his feet, at first, he heard a splatter, then the pain hit him, his left foot caught some wooden splinters, he removed them without looking. He practically skipped some steps on the stairs, almost slipping, his left foot was bloody.

The first thing he saw were the bodies, lifeless, most were clumped up together at the far end of the hallway, probably from the impact. But that wasn't the reason for the crews deaths. Nayb squinted his eyes, he examined one of the bodies—a girl, or just a man with long hair, that was not important, he looked at the neck where a knife was hanging, nothing special, but there was another body, this one, with a missing hand and sword to the chest. still, nothing special. But the more Nayb looked, the more he noticed a pattern, missing hand or feet, sometimes both, or all limbs missing. some pierced in the heart, eyes, armpit, groin. The more he looked, the more he was convinced. Trafe probably did this! Nayb knows how he fights—always aimed to kill in one strike, if he couldn't, he would just disable his enemiee first, sometimes multiple times, if the enemy was tough enough.

Slightly relieved, Nayb walked forward, peeking at the doors. By the time he was near the bodies, and beside the last room, he finally saw Trafe, not moving, Nayb went to a halt. Shit— Nayb stumbled forward, his bloody left foot tripped by a bottle of some kind.

His concern was immediately dispersed, when he heard the snore. Chuckling silently, Nayb checked Trafe for injuries, firstly his left hand, he wasn't surprised to see cuts there, considering how Trafe usually block a sword with it. Nayb actually helped him practice that sort of thing. He stood up, noticed that they were in some kind of a fancy room, complete with beds, tables, and chairs.

“Definitely the captain's cabin” he muttered while looking for something. “There!” beside the big bed, a chest of some sort. He opened it, found what he was looking for, potions, and of top qualities. Nayb ignored the rest, he just needed a health potion, not that it's hard to find, they were at the top most portion of the chest

“I know an enchanted bag is costly but an ordinary chest? Really?”

He grabbed a health potion, ignoring the stingy personality of the former owner. Tried to open the potion, but his shackles was preventing him from doing so. he looked at Trafe's hand, a chain of keys was onto his right arm. especially the one key separated from the others. Without doubting weather it was the one he needed, he took it and unlocked his shackles, thinking how stupid the [Inventor] who created those shackles.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

That done, he opened the potion again, poured some on Trafe's left hand, then proceeded to heal his left foot—

“You, check the inside, I think I heard something” Nayb heard a deep and large voice, tried and failed to whisper.

“No— YOU! you see the bodies over there? I'm not paid enough for this kind of shit!” another one chimed in, this time with a shout, not even trying to lower their voice.

Nayb froze for a second, he looked around for weapons—saw none, he saw shadows, some movements, there was a head peeking on the upper side of the door Nayb threw his unlocked shackles at it. heard someone growl, followed by another, the first one must have stumbled with the other—Nayb grabbed and hurl Trafe on his shoulders, he was skinny, but so was Trafe. He rushed past the other door, not daring to look behind, to the hallways, back below the stairs, almost slipping again, he saw the hole and jumped in.

He was at the bottom most part of the ship, He quickly scanned around, saw some lights behind him and ran. There, he found an opening, a small crack in the wooden walls. He kicked the small opening, widening the gap, he slipped through it, crouching low. He was not expecting the sight.

A tower of some sort, or what's left of it. The shipped probably crushed onto it. it didn't actually make the tower fall, but the lower part facing the ship was hollowed out, stones and debris scattered, some, hanging on top were still falling. The most noticeable part of it was the top. Two giant rays of light in opposite directions were spinning around.

CLANK!

With the sound of wood falling, Nayb ran, or tried to, but each step he took just made his feet sink, the sands were slowing him down, Nayb paused, then he saw the beach, surely the wet sands over there would give him some footing? He slowly made his way near the beach.

“YOU! stop right there!”

The thundering voice followed by the sound of hooves made Nayb slightly pause, he resisted the call, it was probably from a skill, he was not sure of what to do so he proceeded to talk to his luggage.

“Why! Why always me? Hey boss! You’re not planning on sleeping for the whole night, are you? You’re getting heavy, you know!”

He yelled, while running and almost slipping on the sandy beach.

“Oi! Boss? They are riding horses you know?”

He desperately tried shouting again as the sound of hooves got louder and louder.

He didn’t need to be smart to know the odds of him outrunning their pursuers while carrying a sleeping person, who smells of alcohol.

While finding a place to hide was his first goal, looking at the vast desert to his left, and what seemed to be large mountains farther away, such an idea was never going to happen. And while he is confident in putting up a fight against almost a dozen [Riders], his attitude towards that very idea is somewhat not he wants to happen. Not to mention that attracting too much attention would surely be unpleasant for them.

Well, technically, that last part was not going to be a problem, since his boss, who was still sleeping, ‘accidentally killed all the crew members of the ship, just minutes away from a trading port, which then prompted the crewless ship to crush to the said trading port, leaving the two of them blamed for that said accident. And now the surviving authorities are chasing and closing in to them.

“[Halt!] Stop right there!” a booming shout coming from behind commanded.

Nayb tried resisting the command, but the other [Riders] took advantage of his slight pause, gaining enough momentum for the pursuers to surround them.

“Halt I say!” the same deep voice shouted, sounding more annoyed than angry.

Now that Nayb has a clearer view of his pursuers, he noticed a very small mistake, the [Riders] weren’t exactly riding horses, they were the horses! Well, half of them anyways. Some of them were not even half horses, if the intimidating curved horns were not proof enough. [Minotaurs] and [Centaurs]. Nayb’s attention was now diverted to a [Minotaur] who was now walking closer to him, fuming with irritation, almost as if exhaling smokes from his? Her? It’s nostrils. Nayb didn’t want to be rude or anything, so instead of peeking what’s between the angry bull’s legs. Nayb decided to ask his boss about what to do.

He asked Trafe, by throwing him on the freezing cold waters in the middle of the night, head first.

“FU—Fuck! What the­­—“

Nayb cut him off by a shrilling and piercing whistle. Prompting Trafe to immediately take action.

Jumping just behind Nayb,with a lowered stance, as if to pick up shells near the ground. Eyeing the surroundings, a cold stare, thinking, calculating. Nayb relaxed a little, and forcing everyone else to brandish their swords and spears while readying their shields.

“So? What’s the plan?” asked the grinning and anticipating Nayb while trying to stand larger, intimidating. Well, his long natural fair-silver hair was enough for some to take a step back.

Silence, everyone was looking at Trafe, waiting for his answer.

Trafe quickly picked up two small stones near his feet. Forcing some to raise their shields, while confusing others. Nayb quickly understood and readied himself, looking for an opening. His boss took a step forward, Nayb quickly backing up, then. Confusing the others more. Some looked at their commander, but was signaled to hold, possibly because they have the advantage. The standoff paused for a few moments, then suddenly without warning, his boss extended his right foot forward, aimed his left hand holding two stones, and then threw the pebbles way out of range, upward towards the sea.

“Run!—”

As confusing as that plan is, Nayb knew what to do, almost everyone who heard that word thought that the person who said that was a coward, surely, only a coward would shout like that. Just like back then, when the only choice was to run away. To flee. And be a coward. But here’s the thing, so what if it looks cowardly? Does it still look cowardly when that same person ran away from a battle…

…and into a Legendary dungeon?