19695 The 2nd Spring
The mountain winds are especially fine in the early spring, a bit chilly at night, but still heavenly compared to the frost in winter. That doesn’t mean I’ll drop the big fur coat any time soon, just that we don’t have to hide in the tent every time Solaire retreats to avoid frostbite.
From my favorite spot on a cliff just above our camp I have a clear view of both our home and the warriors organizing in preparation for the afternoon hunt.
I so~o want to go with them. Dad only lets me play with some wolves down the slope, always yapping about The beasts around the peak are too dangerous, you’re too young, blah blah blah. It’s just humbug, I’m twelve now and stronger than almost anyone my age, I can look after myself.
Mom would’ve allowed it, or at least would’ve secretly taken me to a proper hunt. I miss her, I miss her so badly. Beasts won't be the only things I hunt when my time comes… I’ll make those cursed knife-eared elves pay for taking my mother.
Papa reassured me time and time again that I had nothing to worry about because my Mom was strong and she’d find a way back to us… I’ve been listening to that for two years now and I knew from day one that his words were just empty promises, nobody ever comes back.
“Valka, come here real quick.” Dad calls for me aware of where I am.
Others would say his voice is deep and intimidating, but for me, it's soothing, something stable to rely on. He’s one of the lead hunters of our tribe, the Snowstorm Tribe, and someone many people other than myself rely on on a daily basis. It’s perpetually snowing high up here in the Zelard Mountains where we live but it's something our people are used to, we always lived like this. In this corner of Koleth, the hunting fields are rich, competition little, and dangers aplenty, the reason why we need someone strong and reliable to get us fed.
I hum a merry little tune while skipping over to my menacing parent in the hopes that today is the day the ice breaks and I be able to prove I’m no longer a child. He has his ‘Look at me, I’m a badass experienced hunter’ face on, pretending to be tough for the tribe, a mask I can shatter with ease.
A quick wave tells me I’m to follow him into our tent and this might go two ways from here. Either I’m gonna get scolded for something I did wrong and just glossed over or this is my lucky day.
Dad looks like any other male in our tribe, big as an avalanche, with white mane-like hair flowing down his broad shoulders and strength equalling an Obsidian Yeti. He usually tries to look grim and serious but any time it's just the two of us, he smiles and laughs like a goofy child having the time of his life.
A~and there it is, just as we step into the tent that cold face disappears and the atmosphere returns to the good old warm and homey one I love.
“Val, I know I promised I’d take you on a hunt soon,” Yes!? “except we’re moving fairly high today and it's too dangerous for you up there.” NO! “So I’m sorry, maybe next time.” He tells me with an apologetic face.
“Oh, c’mon it's always the same shit. Too dangerous here, too young there, I’ve been hearing the same excuses for years now.” I protest.
“I know but I’d rather be called a coward than let my daughter die because of my negligence. I would rather you hate me and the tribesmen despise me than lose someone again. Please… just promise me you won’t run away on your own again.” His ice-blue eyes bore into mine.
Damn, that again? I only snuck after them once. ONCE. He’s been using that card over and over again to keep me here.
“But Dad, even the goat in my dream on my ninth birthday told me that I’ll achieve great things. I even got a really strong starter Class, the Skill is even better. I’m one of the strongest kids my age, how much longer-”
“As long as necessary Val, as long as I can.” He interrupts me.
I know he hates when I’m being forceful but I can stand my ground. I can’t stay a kid forever. Fighting is what our people are made for, we don’t use weapons or fancy armor like the humans or elves. No, we fight with what nature gave us, our bodies are our weapons and armor.
“If you promise to take me next time, then it’s a deal. No backing out, no more too dangerous... That’s my condition.” I demand.
The big and strong man looks worried again, conflicted by my persistence. “You really are just like your mother… Except, you’re my child, you don’t make deals with me, you do as I say. Just, have faith in me Valka, because even if you doubt it, I do have faith in your abilities.” He leaves the tent and meets up with the other hunters to discuss today's excursion.
What he says and how he acts starkly contradict each other, asking me to trust him when he refuses to give me a chance to even earn his trust… that’s not what faith looks like. Actions speak louder than any warcry and not before returning with my first prey will I be considered anything more than simply a child.
The nearby humans and elves call us barbaric and savage for our customs and living conditions, comparing us to orcs. I have to admit we’re not too different from them, our people are no craftsmen, and we can’t make fancy things and tools…but c’mon orcs? Those simple-minded brutes are more like the Yetis, just way uglier. We don’t even look much different than humans.
Besides, why do those scrawny bastards think they’re so much better than us? The only reason they can put up a fight is because of those stupid swords and spears. Our bodies might be stronger than theirs, but their weapons were made for monsters even beyond our resilience. The last time the elves attacked we lost half of our warriors, they were cut down like animals, the blades of the pointy-eared skinny bastards massacring us like cattle.
That’s why I asked the goat for this.
Manaforged: Mana seeped deep into your skin and muscles to reinforce it against any blade seeking to harm you. Your body, vitalized by mana, resists cuts and stabs by the grace of the arcane so you won't have to fear any weapon anymore. (Endurance +0.3% per level)
That’s how they took Mom and many other women with them, after killing most of our hunters and destroying anything they could find. We had to migrate to a different area after that, a more dangerous one, our current home, but we had no choice. The fauna here is way more aggressive and generally higher leveled, causing the death of a hunter almost every week.
The number of our people has dwindled to around a hundred in the last few years from almost three times that before the attacks. We’re not the only tribe of Nephilims in these mountains, although our people are so scattered and relations between tribes so passive that we rarely get news of what’s happening to them. We don’t even know where they are or even if they are alive or not.
That’s why we train from a young age, even before the Journey Guide descends to help us on our path to survive. Just how many people, how many tribes have silently perished and let the snow cover up all that’s left of them over the centuries… I don’t wanna join them.
But I’m just a child so what do I know, huh DAD!?! Screw him honestly...
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I can’t even sneak away and act on my own to bring back at least a damn Frost Worm to show my skills because the mothers -not even the hunters but the mothers watching over us- would notice it the moment the idea crossed my mind and drag me back by my ear. So the only thing left is to do what the children are allowed to do… Beat each other up in our little fighting pit.
Everyone wants to be a hunter and provide for the tribe and to do that we vigorously practice day after day, preparing for our first hunt. We don’t wear armor, or any sort of protective gear, not even our warm clothes because we don’t need them in the circle of our tents, protected from the harsh winds. The bodies of our people have long since grown accustomed to the chilling winds on the coldest continent’s mountains.
See I even know this, what continents are and the comparison. Other races constantly describe us as stupid and ignorant, we’re not. We basically look like humans, just bigger and with very light hair colors and radiant eyes. It’s not our fault they’re weak and fearful of us.
They should just train more like us instead of hiding behind their walls honestly. Even I am practicing every day and I’m a chi- I’m not that old…
With that said I pretty much lied to Dad about thrashing everyone because my Class is just not made to do that. I’m not saying I’m losing just… I’m the one usually on the receiving end and the outcome is most often a draw.
It’s not because I’m weak or anything, I hit hard, like really and can take more punches than anyone else. I’m simply meant to fight long and fight hard and when the opponent is faster than me or manages to restrict my movement then I can’t do much. They still can’t bring me down but neither can I bash their face in… It’s frustrating.
Sounds just like the setup one would need to dominate in a friendly competition right? Well, it’s not. I’m following in Mom’s footsteps to make sure I can help more hunters return to their families, to stand between them and danger but there’s nothing I can do against a shower of fire or when the earth clamps down on me so hard that I can’t move.
To top it off, despite being a [Vital Brawler] with the Life element I can’t heal anyone else other than myself, and even that is sloppy and slow. This Class is for pushing the body beyond the numbers on the blue window, making me stronger and faster.
Would I pick something different if I had the chance? No, this is the only thing I have that reminds me of Mom, and despite the difficulties, my goal is still the same.
That does mean losing a few fights but so what? Head on I win, I always do, sadly most of the mock fights are not so straightforward. Just like the orcs, we have a code of honor when it comes to duels, although ours is a lot more liberal. Retreating, using the terrain or ranged combat are all allowed, although only very few of us are able to fight from a distance.
We’re not the best with magic and have none of those twigs they call bows so all that’s left is hitting things hard and as many times as necessary.
Today my opponent to exchange punches with is Kurak, a boy about my size and only a year older. It's not that he’s small, I just inherited Dad’s stature. He uses earth magic to dish out some nasty jabs and defend himself at the same time but I think I’ll be able to keep up.
Without a signal or agreement, or oversight or anything special, we just get down to business pummeling each other right off the bat without much restraint.
Kurak’s limbs and chest are covered with tiny rocks, serving as both armor and weapons to land more devastating hits. It’s nasty. To top it off he has quite a few levels on me with more Might, Speed, Endurance, and Skills all surpassing my Status.
Every strike I block leaves a reddening bruise on my forearms and the ones I don’t sting like hell before my healing solves it short term. After a series of quick jabs to his left, I follow up with a leg sweep. A dirty move but not an unexpected one. He raises his front foot to fall forward, forms a layer of earth on his forehead and headbutts me mercilessly.
We both stumble back for a second, except I don’t plan on allowing him any breathing room with head-to-head fighting being my forte, and cock my arm back for a hefty punch. He raises his arms to block but I don’t back down from a clash of strength and hit him with everything I’ve got. My smash sends him back a few paces with rocks falling from his skin and a grimace telling me my attack wasn’t entirely ineffective.
That just means I need to keep this up.
I crack my neck and run at him for a few more exchanges, back and forth for almost a minute without either of us letting up. Sometimes I land a good punch, next his kick crushes my chest, and then I try breaking his arm… we both can take these.
My healing can keep me going for quite a while, especially because the injuries are mostly just bruises and cracks but mana is still an issue. Kurak is a tough opponent, or I could say rock solid, and although neither of us can get far in this fight he has the resource advantage, I’m sure of it. His every move is just too calm and collected.
It’s time to take some risks.
I step in, faking another hook aimed at his guts only to make him lower his arms and leave his face wide open. With Power Burst I halt and then reverse my torso’s momentum straining my body and feeling like someone is trying to tear me apart aiming a straight right to his face while raising my arm too high on purpose, leaving myself open.
He springs the trap and goes for a heavy punch right at my guts since his arms are already nearby but that’s exactly what I wanted. I don’t defend myself, I don’t react because I’m prepared to take the hit and instead put everything into my own strike flying at his jaw.
A confident smile spreads on his face, he knows his hit is gonna land first, yet when he sees the same grin appear on my face, confusion flickers in his eyes. I grit my teeth and turn to avoid getting my ribs broken and let the abs suffer the brunt of the impact, using what nature gave me to defend myself.
His fist sinks a bit into my guts, almost lifting me off the ground and forcing both air and breakfast out of their resting places. It almost takes me down however I grit my teeth and push through knowing damn well that the gamble paid off the moment I didn’t collapse.
A savage grin appears on my face, I got him now. I activate Power Burst and my fist kisses his face, kisses it very violently. Kurak falls onto his back with blood pouring from his nose I most likely broke, but to my surprise, he gets up just after a few grunts.
I must’ve missed the jaw…
Quickly spit out the bile that came up from my stomach, I wipe at my mouth and take a few calming breaths. Only after refocusing on my opponent do I notice cracks on his face, the layer of stone crumbling piece by piece. As if mirroring me Kurak wipes the blood running from his nose before egging me on the dare do it again.
I oblige, I can take a few more of these, it’s what I’m the best at.
***
Turns out he had a lot more of those… two more arms worth of those. I didn’t back down just because he had more fists to work with, quite the opposite really, I knew defense was no longer an option so I went on the offensive without any reservations.
Punching a layer of rocks while two arms are trying to restrain me and another pair is retaliating is so not fair. Every time I cracked that damn defensive layer of his the four arms just went on the defensive and if I smashed an arm, a stone one, he tried to smash mine in return. And the rock rebuilt itself over and over again, like a weird cheat-like healing ability.
I took a good beating there, kicking and fighting back as much as I could before signaling my surrender. It’s rare for me to throw in the towel since I’m cut above the rest both in terms of Might and Endurance. At least I tired him out before giving up the hard-fought battle, had to make sure my Skills got some decent progress out of it.
He probably broke a rib or two and beat me black and blue but that’s where healing Skills come in for the win. A few minutes is all I need to be back in top condition, although my stamina will need a little longer to replenish.
“Good one Valka.” Kurak pats my shoulder while walking past me, trying to hide the smugness in his gait, but I can see it.
“Nice new trick. I have to admit you got me this time. Good fight.” We shake on it, no anger for the beating.
[The general Skill [Manaforged] has reached lvl 38.]
[The general Skill [Pain Tolerance] has reached lvl 32.]
[Your class Skill [Brawling] has reached lvl 24.]
As I said no grudges, it's all worth it in the end, victory or not. We don’t hold back on purpose because neither will the beasts during a hunt and fighting like this is really good for Skill levels. It’s also a form of respect among my people, acknowledging others’ work and dedication.
***
I rest for the remainder of the day, letting my bruises and bones heal, while waiting for Dad and the others to return with our dinner. At nightfall we gather at the central fire to prepare for the meal, eagerly waiting for the haul the hunters are to bring and as expected soon we see people approaching in the dark. Judging by their numbers the hunt was a very successful one with minimal casualties, maybe next time I can-
“Kids, run.” Says one of the older mothers, stepping forward to stand between the new arrivals and the rest of us.
The figures reveal themselves to be human, actual humans, armed to the teeth and with blood dripping from their weapons. They just keep on coming from the woods all around us, eyes flickering with disgusting greed.
What happened to the hunters?