A man in better quality armor than the rest of the guards stepped forward, walking up to Xander, Gabrelle, and Freyja, who was licking blood off her fur. “You have our thanks for the assist. That would have been a much rougher fight for us without you three.” Xander liked that he had included Freyja in his count. The panther had done a lot of work during the fight.
“Of course,” Gabrelle answered breathlessly. “We heard the fight as we were coming down the road and rushed to see what was happening. I’m glad we got here in time.”
The guard leader nodded appreciatively. “You both fought well. Mercenaries?” He asked.
Gabrelle and Xander both nodded in response.
“If you’re both headed to Sempta, you’re welcome to ride with us,” the guard offered. “We’d pay for your services of course,” he went on to explain, “but there is safety in numbers these days on the road.”
“I think that would be nice,” Xander said. “What do you think, Gabrelle?”
Gabrelle shrugged. “Sure. It’s definitely safer, being part of a larger group will make us a less appealing target than if we were alone, and I won’t pass up the opportunity for a little extra coin.”
“Well, that settles it, then,” Xander said to the man. “We’ll ride with you until we part ways in Sempta.”
“Excellent! I’ll inform the caravan master. Make yourself at home while we collect ourselves and treat the wounded.”
“I’m also a [Healer], I’d like to help with the wounded, if you’ll allow?” Gabrelle asked.
“Of course!” The man said. “We don’t have one of our own, so your help will greatly appreciated. We are limited to bandages and stitches, and a few of the men took some nasty cuts in the fight.”
“Perfect,” Gabrelle said. “I’ll see to them right away. I’ll be back soon, Xander. Oh, and I’ll test out your little bangle here, too!”
“Sounds good to me,” Xander replied. “I’ll just uh… I dunno. Be here? I’ll help move the bodies out from the way of the carts.”
“Alrighty,” Gabrelle said, waving behind her as she followed the guard leader to where the wounded had been gathered.
As Xander helped some of the guards haul corpses, he felt a click, and he knew that [Heaven’s Bounty] was taking effect. Corpses of bandits began to get sucked into the meat grinding vortex of the skill. All twenty of the archers were consumed by the maelstrom, as well as a good number of bandit corpses that had been in the hand-to-hand combat. The guards that Xander had been helping were backing away in fear from the gory event as Xander watched in mild disgust. He really didn’t understand why the skill had to be so… gross. As the gore and viscera faded from view, it was replaced by a small bundle of black cloth. Picking it up, Xander noticed that it was incredibly soft and unfurled it to reveal what appeared to be a cloak, emblazoned with a golden spider.
---[Heaven’s Bounty] has created an object: Cloak of Death’s Freedom ---
---Cloak of Death’s Freedom – Grants the wearer the [Death’s Freedom] skill---
---[Death’s Freedom] – You are immune from the effects of spiderwebs and similar effects---
Reading over the description of the item, Xander felt that there was a meaning behind this cloak. It was the first interaction he’d had from one of his [Godsmarked] skills since he’d died, and it felt too on the nose to be a coincidence. He had a sneaking suspicion that the cloak was made of spider silk, and [Analyze] confirmed his suspicion. Yrrilm must have influenced the skill somehow. But what was the message? Was it a warning to him? Disapproval that he’d escaped the grasp of his natural death? Or was it approval from the Goddess, perhaps she appreciated that he’d used the rune that she’d taught him in such a way. He wasn’t sure. But he wasn’t being smote down from on high, so he hoped it was the latter of his ideas. He fastened the cloak over his back, finding that it fit around his wings perfectly. The guards were looking at him with a mixture of confusion, awe, and fear.
An hour later, Xander and Gabrelle reconvened. She noticed his cloak and commented on it, asking, “Where’d you find that?”
“Had another incident with [Heaven’s Bounty]. It made me this cloak. Gabrelle, I think it had some additional meaning behind it… the title it was given was ‘Cloak of Death’s Freedom.’ It has a spider on it. It’s made of spider silk. I think… I think Yrillm influenced the skill somehow, to send me a little message. The item reminds me of the temple with that altar, what with the spider motif, and she is the Goddess responsible for weaving death into fates. I just can’t tell if she’s happy or angry with me. Is she mad that I escaped my fate, or pleased that I used the rune I learned from her to do so?”
“That’s definitely not a question I have any answers to, Xander. In the end, does it matter? You got a nice cloak, and nothing bad happened.”
“You’re right. It’s just hard not to think too hard about it, you know?”
“Not really. I’ve never had a god issue me a task or speak to me, Xander.”
“That’s fair.”
That night, Gabrelle asked Xander to stay with her again. It was becoming regular enough that he had begun not even setting his own tent up. She looked tired as he ducked into the tent, more so than he’d seen her any other day of their travels.
“Is everything alright, Gabrelle?” He asked. “You look… exhausted.”
“Sorry. It’s, well, it’s the killing. I find that it takes a lot out of me, now. I don’t regret doing it, I know we saved lives from those bandits, but… it’s still hard.”
“There’s no need to apologize. I understand. What you’re feeling, well, it tells me that you’re a good person at heart, that you still feel things like that.”
“Xander,” Gabrelle asked, “Do you ever think about the people you’ve killed? Sometimes I do… and I feel awful that I can never remember what they looked like.”
“Sometimes,” Xander answered quietly. “I try not to think about it too much. They were out to hurt or kill me or someone I cared about, or to do harm to their fellow man, and I stopped them before they could. I try to frame it in that way. But, you’re right. It’s hard. I… I don’t even know how many people I’ve killed now, or helped to kill by way of creating a weapon. I never thought to try and tally a count until now…”
Gabrelle reached out and took his hand in hers. “Do you think it will ever get easier?”
“Honestly, Gabrelle, I don’t know. Part of me doesn’t want it to. If I ever stop caring that I’ve had to kill someone, then am I still a good person? In the moment, I justify it sometimes. Like those bandits on your first contract outside the city. What they did to those women… the way they slaughtered the caravans. I wanted them dead, and it felt right to do so. But afterwards. Afterwards, I still felt… dirty.”
Gabrelle nodded quietly. “Thank you,” she said, finally.
“For what?” Xander asked.
“For talking with me about it. For admitting that you felt similarly. I’ve never asked anyone else that question before. It helps to know that I’m not alone in how I feel.”
Xander nodded. “You’re never alone. At least not when I’m here,” he said, trying to soothe her anxiety.
Gabrelle hugged him, and he could see a few tears on her face. “Thank you…” she whispered.
“Let’s get you to bed,” Xander said gently, once he disentangled himself from her embrace. The cloak did not magically prevent him from being bound by hugs. He wrapped the tired young woman in her blankets and laid down beside her, pulling her wrapped form against his chest. “Try and sleep, now,” he said, and ran one of his gauntleted hands through her hair. “I’ll be here keeping watch.” It took a while, but he eventually managed to put Gabrelle to sleep.
Xander pondered their conversation. He hadn’t thought much recently about his killing. He certainly didn’t enjoy it. He felt guilt that he had killed so many men with his weapons, when he thought about it. But what else was he supposed to have done? They’d attacked him, his friends. Slaughtered and raped innocents. He supposed the guilt of slaying was the burden one had to bear if they allowed their conscience to remain intact. He’d rather feel bad about it than ever become cold to it.
Gabrelle stirred and shifted in her sleep more than she normally did, and Xander wondered if she was having a nightmare. But she didn’t wake in the night. As the morning came and Xander could hear the camp beginning to wake, he gently jostled her and called her name.
“Gabrelle, it’s time to get up. People are starting to wake up and pack up,” he said to the sleeping woman.
“Mmmm, blugh. I don’t want to…” she muttered, curling up into a ball under her blankets.
“Don’t make me throw the covers off you,” Xander said with mock sternness.
“You wouldn’t dare!” She said, still unwilling to make her own way out from her bedroll.
“Watch me,” He said, and yanked the covers off the woman.
“Hey!” Gabrelle protested. She held her arms together, blocking as much of her body from view. Xander found it amusing that she did so. He’d been cuddling her to sleep on many nights for weeks now, and he’d seen her in her smallclothes frequently. They weren’t even scandalous, consisting of a white shirt and a set of loose shorts. It was nowhere near as revealing as beachwear from Earth, though he supposed that this land was more conservative in that regard.
“Gabrelle. You’re still wearing a shirt. I saw you in that outfit literally just last night. You aren’t even wearing anything particularly revealing.”
Gabrelle looked at him in exasperation. “It’s the principle of the matter!” She said with a huff, though she did lower her arms.
“I’ll let you get dressed,” Xander said with a chuckle, and stepped out of the tent. The caravan was indeed setting itself up to begin moving, and merchants and their assistants were bustling about the carts, or eating breakfasts before they began moving. Gabrelle emerged from the tent, clad once more in armor.
“Covered up enough yet for me to be able to look at you?” Xander asked, without actually looking.
Gabrelle huffed again in response, as Freyja made her way over to the two of them, rubbing her side up against Xander and then Gabrelle, circling them and repeating her rubbing.
“Good morning to you, too,” Xander said to Freyja, giving the cat some scratches. He marveled that his new fingers could feel his gauntlet press against the cat’s body, and feel the warmth as it permeated his glove.
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Freyja rumbled a chuff in greeting to the two of them. Gabrelle began packing up her tent while Xander stomped out the remains of the coals from their cook fire the previous night. Gabrelle opted for rations that needed no cooking for her breakfast, eating bread and some dried fruit. Xander was a little bit jealous. He missed food, though eating had always been more of a task that he had to remember to complete. Now, though, he wished he could bite into a really good apple again.
They left with the caravan, riding along with the wagons. Well, Gabrelle rode. Xander alternated between using his spider legs and a loping, tireless jog. He was too heavy for even Freyja to carry him safely at this point. Neither of the two mercenaries mentioned their conversation the previous night.
As they continued South, Xander noticed that, over the course of the next several weeks, it began to feel a little colder during the nights. Fall, and then Winter must be on their way. Gabrelle began to really appreciate the warming runes he’d added to his body, as he never grew cold in the night. They traveled for another month without incident.
At the end their first month with the caravan, they were once again set upon by highwaymen. The rolling hills of the area made it easy for bandits to hide near the road, and as the carts were being driven down the road, as cry went up from a lone figure that had crested the nearest hill. Soon, men and dwarves were pouring forth from behind the hill, and more were coming from another hill on the other side of the road. They carried their shields raised to mitigate any arrows that were fired their way. They were significantly more organized than any of the other bandits Xander had ever dealt with. They had a contiguous front line that did not break into ragged groups as they charged across the short open space towards the caravan, and archers were arranged behind both group. Xander briefly wondered if they were former soldiers.
Shouts of alarm rang out from the caravan as the guards scrambled to protect both sides of the train of wagons. The two-pronged attack would force them to spread thin. Xander took up his rifle from his inventory, leveling it at the line of bandits that was charging the side of the caravan he was on. He fired the five rounds in his loading tube into the line, the steel ammunition punching holes through the raised shields of the oncoming bandits, killing and wounding those that were struck. Before he started to reload, he quickly activated several skills. He cast [Earthworks], raising a stomach high wall of dirt that would prevent the bandits from rushing directly into the line of guards. The width of the wall didn’t stretch the entire portion of the caravan, but Xander figured any little bit would help. Next, he activated [Automaton], and a steel form began to grow next to him. A shining, metal bear took form next to him, and he ordered it to charge into the fight and disrupt the bandit line. Finally, he cast [Reactivity] on himself, his armor glowing as the skill took effect.
As the line of bandits drew closer, though a portion of the front line had split to try and avoid the onrushing steel bear, Xander brought his arm back and materialized a grenade into it. He pumped mana into his movement runes and threw the grenade as hard as he could manage. It didn’t quite rival the range of his crossbow grenade thrower, but it was still a solid fifty yards, and it saved him from having to stow his rifle and pull out and load the crossbow. He began throwing more as the first one detonated near the line of bandits that was still making their way towards the caravan. The first grenade landed slightly in front of the running bandits, taking out only a few bandits as the shrapnel hit their legs or made its way past their shields. The second and third grenades were better throws, and the third one Xander managed to land directly on a raised shield, detonating it as it bounced to the ground under the sprinting bandit’s feet. Two holes were torn into the rushing bandits, though no secondary explosions were set off.
Xander was impressed that the holes he had blown in the front of the bandits were swiftly filled by more men, showing discipline he hadn’t expected. Gabrelle stood next to him, mace drawn, ready and waiting, and Freyja was just behind him, rumbling out a growl. As the bandits began clearing the last stretch of open space before the line of guards defending the caravan, he focused on [Maker’s Aegis]. He designated everyone in the caravan as a protectee of the skill, leaving only the bandits as potential targets. He went back to throwing his grenades, aiming to land just past the first row of bandits and into the second or third. They were numerous, Xander had never encountered so many bandits at one before. He switched to his long disused firebombs for a moment, getting off two more throws and splattering bandits and the ground around them with flaming dragon’s tar. Then, the fight was joined and the melee began.
Arrows began to rain down on the carts and defenders as the bandit archers from both sides of the caravan took firing stances. Xander did not join the melee, however, trusting Gabrelle and Freyja to secure the area around him. He ordered his steel bear, which had been mauling bandits in the rear of the group to begin making its way to the archers. The various men and dwarves scattered as the metallic bear rushed them, and they began to fire skills and arrows at the automaton. Ignoring his creating for the moment, Xander used [Creation Master] and [Improved Manipulation] to lift himself higher off the ground with a column of stone. His rifle faded into his inventory once more, and instead of pulling out his mace as he normally would, he instead manifested the large, aluminum tank of his flamethrower onto his back as the nozzle and pump portion came into being in his hands. He dialed the thing to the on position and raised the nozzle at an angle. With one hand he began hosing bandits pushing in from the backlines down with sticky, clinging flames, and with the other he began drawing more grenades from his inventory and chucking them at any spot that looked like the bandits might break through. [Maker’s Aegis] held true, and the defenders that he had designated with the skills were completely unaffected by the explosions and shrapnel, while bandits that had been standing right next to them were reduced to barely recognizable human remains.
As Xander began to run low on dragon’s tar, and his arm was arched back in the process of throwing another grenade, he was struck from behind, staggering him. If he hadn’t been made of steel, and therefore much heavier, he would have been knocked clear off of his stone pedestal. Turning around to face whatever or whoever had struck him, he saw a large number of bandits making their way through the lines of wagons, heading towards the exposed backs of the defenders who were still holding their side of the caravan. The other flank must have crumbled, letting the bandits through.
“Fuck,” he growled to himself, and then yelled “Behind us! They’ve broken through the other side!”
As he finished his cry of warning, he saw one of the bandits activate a skill, conjuring a spear of ice and flinging it at him. He braced, aware of the strike this time, and the icicle shattered against his armor in a spray of ice. The man was too far to reach with [Brand], and his skill had blown right through [Reactive Armor], though it had not been able to make a scratch on his dense, runed armor. Since they were amongst the carts, Xander hesitated to detonate more grenades, as his ability only shield people, not things, and shredded carts would slow the caravan down once they made disentangled themselves from the fight. He also couldn’t deploy his soul rippers. They weren’t an explosive, and so they would kill anyone hiding within a cart or any defenders that were too close to the epicenter.
Xander could tell that this battle was not going well for the caravan, and that it was entirely possible that there would be so few survivors that they wouldn’t even be able to continue on as a trade caravan after this. He called out to Freyja, who was still nearby, shouting, “Freyja! Get out of here! You’re the least armored of us, and we won’t be able to heal you like this. Go get Gabrelle and take her out of here!” He then turned his head to Gabrelle’s direction, hopped down from his pedestal, and then he and Freyja both began to make their way to her as the bandits on the from the other flank closed in.
Drawing close enough to be heard over the yells and clanging of steel, he shouted to Gabrelle. “Gabrelle!” The woman briefly turned to look at him after fending off a blow with her mace before returning her focus to the dwarf she was fighting. Xander stepped up beside her and together they slew the dwarf with repeated strikes from their maces, earning them the space to back away from the rapidly thinning line of defenders. “Gabrelle,” he said again, “You and Freyja need to get out of here. Things are not looking good.” He pointed at the bandits who had almost completed their rush to strike the back of the defenders, most of whom were unable to disengage and turn to face their new foes.
“But…” Gabrelle said, before Xander interrupted her.
“Get the fuck out of here!” He yelled at her. He physically lifted her by the shoulders with his rune powered strength as she struggled against him and threw her on top of Freyja. “Go!” he ordered the cat. “I’ll be okay!” He called after them as Freyja took off running, weaving through carts and jumping over bandits as Gabrelle held on to the cat’s armor, sprawled on top of her.
Turning to face the bandits, many of whom had already begun clashing against the ragged defenders, ending many of them with stabs and blows to their backs, Xander tightened his grip on his mace. He began to throw grenades again, the fight at the edge of the caravan far enough away from the wagons to be able to do so. He was almost out of them. He blew ragged holes in the massed bandits and secondary explosions rippled out like aftershocks from his grenades, but the defenders were still falling at an increasing rate. Soon, he was out of grenades entirely.
As he detonated his last grenade at his feet, giving him space to look about, Xander could no longer see any guards fighting. Bandits at the edge of the fight and further along the caravan were dragging men and women from their hiding places within or under carts. Some of the bandits would round up their victims, herding them away, while others indiscriminately slaughtered men and women as they found them. Xander was fully surrounded now, and he was angry. He wasn’t afraid of the bandits. The most dangerous one he’d seen so far had been the one throwing spears of ice, and he’d been unsuccessful at harming Xander. The bandits crowded around him, just out of reach of his pointed spider legs, and jeered, shouting insults at him. After a minute, seeing that he was not going to surrender himself, they rushed him from all sides.
Xander activated [Smoke Screen] as soon as they closed in on him, blinding the closest bandits with smoke as he materialized his shield onto his off arm. He dodged a wild, blind strike from a startled bandit as one of his spider legs stabbed another bandit behind him through the chest. With no more defenders left, Xander was free to deploy his tear grenades, and his smokescreen grew even denser as a cluster of three smoke grenades spewed irritating smoke into the air. Xander grabbed a flailing bandit and hoisted him into the air, activating [Reactivity] as he did so, and threw him into the gathered bandits who had yet to dare to enter the smoke. They were already beginning to cough and leak involuntary tears as the smoke grenades spread out from the sphere of his [Smoke Screen] skill.
To the bandits eyes, it would have appeared that a man flew out of the dense smoke that was blocking their view of the black armored figure that they had surrounded. Xander, of course, was able to see through the smoke as the surprised men tried to catch the man he’d flung at them. As they wrapped their arms around the thrown man to try and arrest his fall, Xander activated the second portion of [Reactivity] and the man exploded, throwing blood and bone into the crowd. Two more secondary explosions rocked out from the explosion site, killing even more bandits.
Xander estimated there had to be over a hundred bandits still, though they now were too hesitant to enter his smoke screen. He pondered just leaving, he had enough space to flap his wings and fly up, leaving the caravan behind and rejoining Gabrelle. But, he thought, there were still some people alive in the caravan, and he hated the idea of leaving them to the untender care of deserters turned bandit. It’s not like I can die, he thought. Worse comes to worse, I’ll just wake up thirty feet underground again.
He was an untiring, runically powered, steel mannequin clad in carbon fiber that was even more densely runed than his fake body. He could slay low level bandits and soldiers all day. Assessing the risk, Xander removed a soul ripper grenade, then another and another until he had four. He’d slipped his mace and shield back into his inventory, and now held one in each hand. The other two were clasped in the manipulator claws of his backpack that he so rarely used. At once, he threw all four out from himself and into the crowd of bandits. Shouts of alarm came from the circled men and dwarves as the small metallic objects sailed out from the smoke and landed amongst the crowd. The runic weapons had scarcely enough time to touch the ground before Xander activated them, and four large swaths of men dropped dead onto the ground.
As he activated his soul rippers, Xander felt an odd sensation, being within the boundary of the weapon for the first time. It was like an echo of the feeling he’d felt when the altar had activated, and he could feel an invisible force trying to tug on his ghostly body. It was held tightly in place, however, tethered to the soul binding array on his mask. The shouts of alarm soon turned into cries of fear as the bandits watched their compatriots fall to the ground, silent and still. They began to flee, running in every direction, and Xander angrily stalked out of the smoke of his ability.
He was frustrated with himself, and he was frustrated with the situation. He ran down a bandit, runic legs pumping as he swiftly caught up to the man and his mace appeared in his hand before he caved the running bandit’s ribcage in from behind. Bandits were scattering all over the place, and even the ones that had not been directly in the crowd encircling him had still seen their companions begin to run and picked up on the cue to flee.
Xander sighed inside his head, letting his arms hang limp. That fight had not gone as he’d expected. He’d anticipated breaking the bandits on his side and then heroically moving to the other flank to reinforce them before forcing those bandits to flee, too. Instead, he’d underestimated the number and discipline of the enemy, and the opposite flank had crumbled far more quickly than he would have thought possible. As he wandered through the empty wagons, searching for survivors, he cursed at himself. He should have activated [Aura of Fear], despite the inconvenience of his targets moving away from him in terror. He should have left Gabrelle and Freyja on one side of the caravan and moved himself to the less defended flank. They might have been able to hold, then. He was shaken from his melancholy by the discovery of the first survivors.