The next morning when Patrick woke, his body ached in ways he didn’t think were possible, but he felt better. More than better. He was able to get out of bed himself surprised at how light he felt on his feet. The joints on his arms ached as he tried to stretch them, repressing a shudder at the memory of them being snapped in the Dungeon. What was it Marius has said? They had used some potions on him? Could potions really fix shattered bones in a few days? He ran his hands through his hair, and felt it was way longer than he remembered. A similar test on his cheeks returned a similar surprising amount of hair. A quick scan around the room and after a second of scanning the room, he saw a full-length mirror against one of the wardrobes. For the first time in days, he had a good look at himself in the mirror.
Patrick almost didn’t recognise himself in the mirror. Staring back at him, was well, him. The figure looking back was the same height he had been previously, just a little under six feet tall, but had a much longer mop of hair compared to the short length he had only a moment ago. The figure also had stubble that went well beyond five o’clock shadow and was arguably a short beard. Bruises that were in the late stages of healing covered his face and torso, and twisting around he was able to see the scar that had been left by the Lord of Rot and Decay’s sword. It would definitely remain a scar, but somehow looked well healed like he had it for months.
What really surprised him was that despite feeling so much stronger, his physique hadn’t changed at all. There was a little disappointed that he didn’t have the muscles that Grunt did, but he pushed that disappointment to the side as he momentarily flexed in front of the mirror in different poses to see if there was anything different.
Nada.
Noticing that he was also still very much naked, began a search for his clothes and personal items which had been kindly folded and placed on one of the chairs. The first thing he went for was his phone, and after realising it was dead let out a curse.
There goes that way of calling for help.
If it even worked considering what they said about it being a different world.
His clothes were in no better position, closer to rags at this point. The shirt and slacks he had worn the other day were now covered in dirt and stains, and torn beyond belief. Another curse, and he moved back to the wardrobe to see if there was a spare pair of clothes for him. Finally having some success, he saw some folded piles of simple shirts and pants, and after sorting through the piles found some light brown trousers and a white simple shirt that fit him decently well.
Feeling as prepared as he would ever be, he steeled himself in front of the door ready for whatever horrors were on the other side. With a pull, found himself only faced with a hallway. His room was at the very end of it, and peering out to the right saw the only way to go was up a flight up steps. He began ascending the stairs barefoot as softly as he could listening out for any movement or action, with the only noise a distant thrum in the background. Reaching the top of the stairs, he poked his head around, to be greeted by a large living space, that seemed to connect to a few other rooms, and at the back of the room was another flight of stairs.
The living area was decorated in a similar manner to the bedroom he woke up in. It was filled with soft plush couches, with wooden shelves and cabinets around the edges. The first one he investigated seemed to be filled with an assortment of alcohol, none of which he recognised apart from some that looked like wine. Patrick cracked open a bottle that seemed to only be half full and gagged at the smell. Placing it softly back, he began towards the stairs looking for any signs of life.
It was halfway up these flights he heard voices talking that became clearly audible near the top.
“.. Svenja, I told you. Give him a fair price of the Boots. He was half out of it, and you took advantage.”
“No. He agreed.”
A groan from Marius.
“Besides, he is on the other side of the door. He can tell you himself that he agreed.”
Patrick winced, thinking he had been quiet. Opening this door greeted him with the sight of a kitchen area, with Marius sitting at a kitchen island and Svenja standing on the far side near a door with her arms crossed.
“I, uh, sorry I wasn’t sure if I was meant to stay in the room…”
“No, not at all! Sit down, have some breakfast!” Marius said making room at the island.
Concerns around the Centipede Stew resurfaced, as Patrick examined what was on offer. It all looked normal. There was a selection of fruit alongside what looked like sausages and rashers. Patrick pointed at them.
“What specifically are these made out of?”
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
“Griffon strips and Lizard tubes!”
Patrick just grabbed what looked like a pear, and tentatively bit into it to find it tasted even sweeter than a pear. He raised an eyebrow in appreciation as he held it up to Marius.
“Spider fruit, great choice.”
He closed his eyes and just ignored the name, hoping it was named like a dragon fruit from home.
“You agreed to the Boots, didn’t you?” Svenja interrupted.
“Oh yeah, course. Honestly, it’s fine. Whatever the deal you made is fine” Patrick replied waving it away again as Marius threw his hands in the air.
“You’re just encouraging her!”
Svenja smirked and threw a large bag that landed on the counter with a heavy thud.
“2,500. Rest when we get to Tyril. I’m getting changed. I’ll see you on the deck for training.” as she abruptly left the room.
Patrick eyed the bag before picking it up and hefting it in his hand. It was heavy. How did 2,500 coins fit in here? He opened it, and almost dropped the big.
“Money bag, bigger on the inside for currency. You’ll get used to it” replied Marius cooly as he sipped on his drink.
Patrick could only shake his head in response.
“Does Svenja not like me or something?”
“What do you mean?” a frown forming on Marius’ face.
“It just feels like she doesn’t like me. She’s dismissive and generally not friendly.”
“I thought she showed a lot of warmth towards you, more than she does others anyway. She probably hasn’t even shortchanged you, but it’s probably worth checking.”
Before there could even be any response, Marius leapt to his feet and clapped his hands.
“Right! Training time. Eat up.”
----------------------------------------
Patrick dry heaved again as he clung to the rail on the side of the airship. He had been up on the top deck for all of 30 seconds before he realised how high up they were, and how low to the ground the barriers around the edge were. He didn’t have a fear of heights, but he had a healthy respect for them, and they were far too high not to be safely secured to the ground. Marius had given up trying to drag him by the foot to the middle of the deck, and was standing sternly beside him with his arms crossed doing his best Svenja impression.
“You’ll be fine Patrick. You’re not going to fall off.”
“We’re so high up.”
“We haven’t had someone fall off in months. It’s a totally regulation training deck for an airship of this model.”
“Months?!”
“Grunt hit them a little too hard, but come on, you’ll be totally fine. We’ll even put up the training net”.
Seeing Patrick still wasn't moving, Marius changed tact.
“At least don’t hang near the edge. One of the swooping birds may try carry you off.”
Patrick moaned, trying to clamber to his feet.
“I hate this world.”
“It’s not that bad, here, let me help you.”
Marius helped steady Patrick and supported him to the middle of the training deck where the land below wasn’t visible.
“Why does the ship have to sway so much?”
“That’s not the shi- Excuse me, I spared no expense on the stabilisers for this airship. That is you that is swaying. Not the ship.”
Now that Patrick couldn’t see how high they were, he felt his legs begin to steady, and he saw the top deck in its glory for the first time. It was a giant oval, with a large sparring arena in the middle shaped like an Octagon. The far corner contained a weight section, with the other end displaying weapon racks and practice dummies. The dummies ranged in both size, and the amount of plate metal they had covering them. Marius, seeing him looking at them just volunteered;
“Oh, combat dummies. You can either have them stationary for target practice or activate them to fight them directly. We’ll start you on the little one” pointing towards the smallest, unarmoured one.
“Oh, are you not going to be training me?”
“No, of course we will be, but we need something that you can practice with that won’t wipe the floor with you each time.”
That made sense, even though it stung his pride a little bit.
He wandered over to one of the dummies for a closer look. It appeared no different to any other dummy he had seen in any video game or movier. The dummy looked closer to a scarecrow with some tighter stitches. He prodded it, and it felt like it was just full of hay and didn’t react in anyway. Patrick pushed it harder expecting it to fall over, but as it reached its tipping point it swung back to its initial position and steadied itself.
Patrick looked at the base of it but couldn’t see any sort of mechanism that would cause it to auto right itself.
Huh, magic.
Looking back at Marius who was just grinning at him, Patrick took it a step further. He hooked his leg in behind that of the dummy and shoved it with all his might hoping the extra leverage would cause it to hit the ground, only for the dummy to swing back up and collide with Patrick’s nose causing him to reel back with blurry vision.
“Motherfuc-“ as he just heard Marius laughing behind him.
“It’s not even activated, and you wanted one of us to spar with you?”
Patrick glared at him before turning his attention back to the dummy. He stalked around it a few times before settling directly behind it. He looked at Marius who only responded with a raised eyebrow, as Patrick wrapped his arms around the dummy and just began pulling it down towards the ground. It started easy, but he felt the resistance begin to build as it neared the ground. With a slight grunt, he readjusted and got it a few inches further, but it stubbornly remained about a foot from the floor. He quickly moved around until he was on top of the dummy putting all his weight onto it gaining another few inches, but with a sense of alarm began to feel a tension building within the dummy, and with a twang, the dummy shot back up throwing Patrick through the air towards Marius who had calmly stepped to the side.
With the breath knocked out of him, Patrick just lay there for a moment staring up at the blue sky above him
“I loved the idea, but that would have only worked if your Strength or weight was a lot higher. You’re a [Brawler], not a [Wrestler]. Watch this.”
Marius moved over to the rack of training weapons available and picked out a blunted training sword. Hefting it in his hand, he moved over to the dummy that Patrick was now mentally referring to as ‘the catapult dummy’. He swung at it hitting it with the flat of the sword, and with a solid thump, it hit the ground and lay there before slowly rising to standing position. Marius had already moved onto the next dummy and knocked it down with one hit. He began to move along the line repeating the action until he reached the fourth dummy that required two hits until it hit the ground. Each progressive dummy required either harder hits, or more hits. He finally reached the eighth and final dummy which was covered in plate mail, and after a moment of pause unleashed a flurry of blows with his sword faster than the eye could follow. The blows stopped, and the dummy slowly fell over to the ground.
He had gone through all the dummies before Patrick had even fully regained his footing.
“You either have to hit hard enough, or fast enough to knock them down. You are a [Brawler], and so you will need to learn to hit both hard, and fast enough. You will find yourself in fights that can be won quickly with enough power. Our group calls this Burst Protocol. Other fights will be a fight of attrition, which we call Bleed Protocol. Both are viable, one just sucks far more than the other.”
He gestured Patrick over to the ‘catapult dummy’.
“Once you can knock this down in either one or two punches, or in ten seconds, we’ll get it to start fighting back.”
“How, uh, does it fight back exactly?”
Patrick realised his mistake as soon as he said it once he saw Marius’ grin.
“It’s best to show you. Novice dummy, your opponent is Patrick, selenda.”
The dummy stiffened, before it bent it’s knees in a fluid motion that was far too unnatural for Patrick’s liking.
“Marius, I don’t think this is a goo-“
Patrick shrieked and began to run as the dummy began chasing him across the deck of the airship.