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Chapter 20: Calm Before The Storm
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“It is with great regret that I must inform you of our decision to rescind our support for your endeavor into the Minadrel. May the expedition proceed to your favor, and in the end, I pray that we might remain allies—and friends” ~ From: “Notes to Darza” by Inielle Ymin, 17 B.P.
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“Fallio’s cock and balls, mate that’s good! You make this every night? Fuck’n ‘ell, you’re not some famous run-away chef from the mainland, are you? You’re coming back with me to Al’Nay-Sadra after this llort business is done and teaching our cook men proper good, if I have to drag you screamin’ an’ cryin’, by my father’s sand I will,” Al-Tarn-ak, the Awali of Clan Al-Taena said as he speared a chunk of Brightspine boar backstrap from his bowl and shoved it into his mouth.
“Fuckin’ ‘ell mate, this is damn good,” Tarn said around a mouthful of food, his cheeks bulging and soup with bits of meat and vegetables trickling into his beard. “By the seven this is— ay!”
Huck laughed hysterically, a booming sound that resounded inside the cottage walls. He leaned back, dodging as Ryan, Tarn’s stolen soup balancing precariously in one hand, crawled frantically over his lap to escape the Awali man.
The sand-colored stone beads in Tarn’s hair clacked against one another as he reached over Huck, trying and failing to snatch at the retreating boy who’d leapt from his father’s lap and escaped to the end of the table where he now stood angled away from the table, bowl held protectively at his side.
“You’re not taking Pa anywhere! After we fight the llort, we’re crossing the Sukos and going to Heart City!” Ryan said.
“An admirable goal, an’ yer father’s writin’ a cookbook ‘r two ‘fore he goes, and that’s that!” Tarn said, throwing a small sphere—no larger than a marble back on Earth—into the air then charging towards Ryan.
The ball exploded with a bang, and a fine cloud of pink dust erupted outwards, surrounding Ryan.
Logan and Synec, who were sitting on the opposite side of the table from Huck and therefore closer to the blast, covered their faces with their clothes and blinked away the powder.
Tarn emerged from the smokey pink mist; his soup upraised in his arms. He gave a victorious grin, then returned to the table and continued to eat.
Ryan stumbled from the cloud, which had stopped expanding and was slowly settling to the ground, a film of fine pink dust covering his face. He looked like he’d been the victim of some surprise powdered-chalk attack.
Upon seeing the scrunched-up look of frustration on Ryan’s pink dust-covered face, Huck hunched forward in his seat, his laughter redoubled. Logan couldn’t help but smirk too, chuckling as he retrieved a cloth from his inventory and wet it with water from his cup at the table.
Ryan returned to his seat next to Logan and took the cloth, wiping his face. He said nothing, but Logan could see the smile he was struggling to hide as he drew the cloth across his skin, leaving streaks of wet pink dust behind.
“A fine goal indeed, I’ve heard much of your lands, though travelled them naught but once as a boy,” Synec said, his tone even and reminiscent.
Logan looked at the man next to him, who seemed to disappear if he wasn’t paying him direct attention. He’ll definitely be useful as a scout or rogue; is this just skill or is he using some kind of magic like the bandit guy?
“Synec, you mentioned you’re from Sehiaha. Forgive my lacking education, but I’d love to learn of your homeland, if you’d tell me,” Logan said. He’d asked Huck, who knew little of the country located on another continent across the eastern sea other than tall tales and rumors.
Synec weighed Logan with calculating eyes, his gaze lingering heavily on the silver annulet on his finger.
“In time, perhaps,” he said, returning his eyes to Logans face, “seek me out in a year’s time, if you still care to learn.”
With that, Synec stood from the table, taking his bowl with him as he moved towards the side room that he and Tarn were sharing.
“I have preparations to make for tomorrow, perhaps upon the battlefield you’ll learn some of my culture, fa-lahiel.”
He pulled the door shut behind him.
Logan blinked, then looked at the others across the table. Had he offended the man?
“Right, now ‘at creepy fucker n’ his ‘I’m too cool for the sparrin’ yard’ attitude is gone, I’m happy to tell ye’ all about the crags. Ever seen a flyin’ fucker up close mate?”
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After several vivid descriptions and fanciful stories about Tarn’s exploits, the group dispersed. Logan had learned much from the Awali man’s stories, namely that he was a “Rider,” a member of a small group that each tribe or clan trained and employed to hunt the massive, flying jellyfish-squid things that were the Crag’s chief export.
He fought with a variety of weapons, including axes, knives, and chains attached to spikes for scaling and downing the flying creatures that Tarn had said were named “Keldar’s,” but almost always referred to as “flying fuckers.” Hunting the keldars was a noble and esteemed pursuit in Awali culture, and Tarn would find employment anywhere he went in the crags. Even if he ventured into another clan’s territory, they wouldn’t try to fight him for the respect for his strength and the shared reverence that all Awali held for the Riders.
Ryan, Huck, and Logan stood outside the cottage in the cold Woolam air, bows trained on a thick wooden post. Logan breathed in deeply, then slowly released his breath until his lungs were completely empty. He released the bowstring. It cracked, but the noise was almost inaudible to him, lost as he was in concentration. The arrow leapt from the bow, slamming into the target some thirty yards away.
A light green cloud burst into existence on impact, Tarn’s orb affixed to the arrow cracking and exploding as it hit the post. Ryan and Huck’s arrows followed close behind, the heat of the burning blood arrows igniting the gaseous cloud even before they skewered the post.
A small explosion erupted in the night, the gaseous, poisonous cloud of Logan’s arrow consumed in the fires of a combustion reaction that sent a tremor through the ground and a blast of force through the air. They heard laughter, Tarn’s distinctive, accented laughter, from inside the cottage.
Huck cursed, then shouted his apologies into the night for the neighbors he was sure they’d awoken.
The explosion didn’t cause any fire, the gas and flame both were seeming consumed by the blast, leaving only the powerful reaction and scorch marks behind. This would definitely come in handy.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
Ryan whooped, and they returned inside, finally prepared for the day ahead of them. Tarn’s mysterious marble-like orbs, a prized weapon of the Riders coined “Sand Pearls,” had a variety of uses it seemed.
Between these and the traps that Synec had promised would be ready by morning, they were as ready as they’d ever be to confront the llort in the depths of the forest. One fight, and they’d be home free, wealthy enough to buy everything they’d need to cross the mountains and to start a new life on the other side when they got there. With the llort’s head, they could convince the villagers of Woolam of their strength and their ability to survive the journey, enlisting more to come with them to the mainland, further raising their odds of success.
In his room, Logan lay in bed, head propped up on a pillow, arms crossed over his stomach.
With his eyes closed, he took slow, deep breaths, letting his mind slip into a meditative trance.
He opened his menu with a thought, and the screen appeared in his mind’s eye.
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Race: Untethered Soul | Age: ??? | Name: Logan Dileva | Titles: Bulwark (New!) Seed (New!) | Affiliations: None
Affinities
Thrive | ??? | ???
Abilities and Skills
Passive
Boundless Potential
Active
Menu, Map, Inventory, Enhanced Looting, Status, Interpretation, Analyze, Quick-Swap (New!)
World Skills
Field Medic, Novice Swordsman, Novice Archer, Beginner Spearman (New!) Beginner Paladin (New!)
Stats
Physical
???
Spirit
Speed: 5
Strength: 5
Stamina: 5
Resilience: 5
Dexterity: 5
?:___
?:___
Focus: 5
Innovation: 6
Control: 0
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A flood of new information surged into his mind. He hadn't checked his status in a long while, opting instead to focus on Tarik and enjoy his time in the city. He had a backlog of notifications as well and was confused as to why they hadn't popped up as he received his new skills, title, and stat upgrades. He felt a cold weight on his finger, as if it were being held in icy water. The ring, Hedia's Annulet, pulsed with glowing intricate black lines that shone through the silver metal before receding again.
The coldness disappeared, and he returned his attention to his menu. It was interacting with his powers, but he didn't understand how or why. The ring gave him a profound sense of protection, however, and he was reluctant to take it off.
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Item
“Hedia’s Annulet” [Soulbound] — Description: ??? | Effects: ??? | This is a soulbound item. It cannot be possessed, worn, or otherwise used by anyone other than you.
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Well, that wasn't helpful at all.
Soulbound... for better or for worse, it was tied to him and him alone now, it seemed.
He moved on to inspecting the improvements on his status page. He'd gained a point in every stat besides Stamina, and his Innovation had risen by two. Trying out the gas and burning arrow trick along with his innovative use of his inventory in combat seemed to have its merits.
His swordsman and archery skills had both leveled up from beginner to novice, and he'd gained a skill for spearman and paladin as well, presumably for his use of the new weapon types in combat. If he kept using his throwing knives, then he assumed he'd gain a skill there, too.
He'd also learned "Quick-Swap," which he must've discovered on his own using his inventory trick. He inspected the definition.
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Skill
Quick-Swap (Epic): You may bind up to [two] items on your person. Once every [60] seconds,
you may switch the physical location of one item for the other.
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The calm void of meditation that Logan had slowly cultivated over the last several minutes almost shattered as he read the description. He had awakened a skill that was seemingly already present in the world, but on his own and to a much greater effect. Was this Boundless Potential's doing? He seemed to be operating outside of the normal rules of Tiris, but then again, he had no idea what normal was.
Next, he viewed his two new titles: the first he'd gained since arriving in Tiris.
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Title
Bulwark: You have weathered an overpowering ??? assault from one far more powerful than yourself and survived. Congratulations! +100 ???
Seed: You are a seed in the dirt, on the cusp of sprouting.
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Again, not helpful in the slightest. He assumed they had something to do with the hidden items on his Stats screen, but he was really only guessing. If "Seed" was to be trusted, however, then he might soon find out if his suspicions were correct.
Finally, he turned his attention to his inventory. There was only one facet of it that he was interested in at the moment, and as his eyes fell upon the numbers on the screen, a smile turned the corners of his lips.
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Currency
B: 1,761
S: 139
G: 2
P:0
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Not a bad haul if I do say so myself, not at all.
Logan closed the screens, undressed, and tucked himself in snugly under his blankets. Tomorrow, they'd venture into the forest and confront the llort. Tomorrow, the efforts of the last several weeks would be realized, and he'd finally be able to take the next step on his journey. Tomorrow, they'd fight.