Arn
The lizards had become a lot friendlier after Arn stopped trying to kill them after every resurrection. After so many deaths, he had gotten bored of the cycle and tried talking to them. It had taken several attempts, but eventually, they began to tell him some useful information. First, they were kobolds, not lava lizards. Second, Arn was battle practice. The kobolds had first found Anna’s golem waiting in a cave. Killing her only led to her being resurrected after twelve hours.
After killing her for over a week, the kobolds had the great idea to use it as a training dummy for their young. By the time Arn started to appear, the adult kobolds had already set up a rotational system and the children created a leaderboard for who could kill the golem in the most brutal way. It was then that they hit their first roadblock. The golem began crying out for the human, setting the colony on edge. Was it actually alive? Should they stop their attack? The debate over how to handle the human and golem continued for almost a full week before the elders stepped in. They surmised that if The Divine had granted them the boon of target practice, it would be blasphemy to not use it.
The next issue they ran into was that the human was getting stronger. The first several cycles were a walk in the park, other than the surprise attack that almost took out the chief's nephew. Some had trouble taking him down as he got better at fighting. Still, the fact that he brought weapons and armors that their smiths could melt down and make use of persuaded most that he was still useful. After the first child had almost lost its life, the elders decided it would be better to send two trainees, rather than one. One horrid afternoon, a child lost its life to the human.
Many called for the permanent imprisonment of the human. He was getting too dangerous, they argued. At some point, he would escape and many more would lose their lives. Although they didn’t get what they wanted, the group managed to get the chief to agree to a compromise. A squad of five guards would kill the human, no more children. This meant that they would still receive a steady supply of equipment, and that no more needed to die in training.
All of that changed when the human spared one of them. He had tried to beg for mercy several times by that point, but the elders had already made their decision, he would die. When he spared a fighter that he had caught off guard, the chief decided it was time to approach the human himself to find out what he wanted.
“Nothing in particular, maybe some food.” Arn had told the chief.
“Do you not desire freedom, human?” the chief asked.
“Nah, what’s the point in that? First of all, you’d just refuse. I’ve watched y’all talk for a while, picked up enough to know that I’m an asset. You like the experience I provide, and especially the weapons.”
“You value yourself too highly, human. The equipment you provide is useful, yes, but nothing we couldn’t do without.”
Genuine laughter erupted from Arn. How long has it been since I’ve laughed? “Of course I know that. My value is, as I've stated, experience and equipment. I’m not overestimating it.”
“Is that why you spared my man? You simply want food?”
“Oh, so that’s what this is about. I didn’t really care to kill him, the pleasure is in the fight alone, killing him would mean that he doesn’t improve. If he gets better, maybe he’ll be more of a challenge next time.”
The chief sat in contemplation for some time. “Do you not have desires of your own human? Your mate calls for you, do you not wish to see it unharmed?”
Arn looked over at the dismembered golem by the cave’s entrance. “Don’t really know who that is, but they're not my mate. Look man, you wanted to talk to me, not the other way ‘round. If you want to know what I want, then I want a nice meal. Something with no meat though, I’m not about to change my ways now.”
“What value is there in giving you food? Will you continue to provide us with your gear? If you hand over everything you have, then we may consider letting you live.”
“Have you not tried the door yet? Only goes out, can’t open it to go back.”
“So there is an entrance you come through. We cannot see it, The Divine has made it so. If you cannot give us additional equipment, then there is no need to give you our food.”
It was Arn’s turn to sit and think for a while, “Well, how about this: I come through the door ready for battle. You provide me with a meal, and I’ll spar with your men. I won’t kill them, but you can feel free to try and kill me. That way, I can come back through, fight, eat, and keep giving you stuff. Sound good?” Arn could have offered to bring in as much equipment from his armory as he could carry, but a part of him hid that fact. Is it spite? Nah, just don’t wanna get bogged down dragging that shit around, that’s it.
“If that is all you desire, then we can oblige.”
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It had started off a bit chaotic. Arn would finish his meal, usually some sort of mushroom dish, and then head straight into battle against the awaiting group. He didn’t really need the food, resurrection not only healed him, but also conveniently kept hunger at bay. He simply missed eating. He missed tasting things other than blood. After spending many lives on hectic brawls, one of the kobolds offered to take on Arn by himself. When he offered, Arn thought he’d met a kindred spirit, but it turned out that the little bastard was simply trying to impress a girl in the group. The kobold ultimately got his ass kicked, but that set off a series of challenges from the others. Eventually, Arn beat the entire squad individually, and they moved on to challenging him in groups. It was only when they started to work together in groups of three that Arn lost more fights than he won. Of course, when he lost a fight, that just meant he was killed, and winning just meant more battle, but that worked for him.
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The kobolds would occasionally try to talk to him about different topics, like who he was, or why he refused meat. Arn would brush off any of those attempts. It didn’t matter what they did or who he was, that was irrelevant. He ended up just zoning out during every pointless conversation. The questions he would answer, however, were always related to combat. A kobold would ask his advice on what they should have done, or why he decided to make a particular attack, and he would answer in detail. Improvement, in Arn’s mind, was the only thing that mattered. That’s how Arn had come to be known as ‘The Trainer’ by the kobolds.
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Arn awoke to a scorching heat on his forehead. Just like every other resurrection, he ignored it. Unlike other resurrections, Arn got up slowly, with his head hung low, covering his face to hide an emotion he had long forgotten.
Shame. I’m ashamed of what I’ve become. How could I have given up on Anna? Why the hell did I let this go on for so long? What the hell is wrong with me? If this were a few years ago, Arn would have laid and wallowed in his misery. Now however, he was forced to accept his failure, because failure was the only word that could aptly describe what he had become. He could have gotten out some time ago, but his obsession with combat, and his cowardice, only made what he had to do more difficult. The kobolds had gotten much stronger. According to the new squad he was training, the colony had expanded after wiping out a rival clan.
Arn knew he had contributed to that victory. Some odd pieces of equipment here or there wouldn’t have made the difference. Hundreds of pounds of gear over the course of three years, however? In his mind, every piece of armor, and every weapon the kobolds now held, were a testament to his spinelessness. Add on to that the intense training the kobolds had undergone with him in preparation for their final assault and their victory would be assured.
Not only have I become a disappointment to myself, but I spurred on and was complicit in mass murder. Arn sat and contemplated the life energy coursing through him. When Anna shared parts of her soul with him, she had also shared her memories of the last two days. What game have I become a pawn to?
Arn felt his newfound energy circling his being and grabbed it tightly for comfort. He began to laugh at his own situation. Turns out, I’m the damsel. What a hilariously chauvinistic man I am. Here I am, brought back from the darkest pit of my own shitty mind by my bad ass wife, and all I can think of is how it should have been the other way round. Whatta dork. Well… fuck me. There’s only one thing to do I guess. I gotta return to my knight in shining armor and thank her for loving me.
Arn didn’t trust his own cowardice to get him where he needed to go, but he could sure as hell trust his wife. If she wanted him to stop being an idiot and not give up, then that’s just what he had to do. The guilt and shame were still there, but he could function. He stood up, tears freely flowing down his face and turned to the wonderful gift his wife had given him.
“And what’s your name, cutie?”
Lucius! Replied a palm sized owl that stood at the edge of Arn’s cot. He had gray and red feathers that were streaked with darker spots. He had two tiny ear tufts on the top of his head, and his eyes were jet black. When he spoke, he sent a message directly into Arn’s mind.
Can you hear my thoughts, Lucius?
Arn waited a moment, but no reply came. Maybe there’s a trick to it? He reflected on the memories he received from Anna and tried a different approach. This time, he imagined projecting his thoughts to the owl in a straight line. Can you hear this, bud?
Oh nice! You figured that out super fast, you’re pretty smart!
Arn wasn’t going to lie. He would never forget this compliment for the rest of his life. On my darkest nights, your words shall remind me of my worth, friend.
That’s taking it a little far, but I appreciate the sentiment. Now, we have gotta bust out of here. Anna is waiting for you.
So you’re already up to speed? That’s convenient, do you know my history, or can you tap into my mind.
I don’t know everything, but I was created by utilizing parts of your soul, and parts of Anna’s. That gave me some pretty good insight into who you both are. It’s nice to have a family.
My heart, I can’t handle this. Thought Arn privately. Then he got down to a more serious conversation. If you know that we need to get out, then you know what I have to do. I can’t lie, I don’t want to kill. I’ve done it before, sure, but this time I’ll be taking a life that I know. I was barely sane, and I don’t want to hurt others anymore. It made me a monster.
Death made you a monster Arn. It takes a toll to be resurrected. You didn’t go insane fighting, you went insane dying. As for what you need to do. If it were up to me, I would tell you to go in there and fight like hell, to kill everyone and not let anyone get in your way. I also think that it probably would destroy your mental health. So, maybe find a middle ground, you got pretty good at being efficient while in here. Just find the most efficient way out, with the least amount of violence.
Yeah, I was thinking the same thing, and I think I have a plan. Thanks for the push, little bud. Can I call you Lou?
I like Lou! Like we’re partner homicide detectives, and we’ve worked too long, gotten too close to the edge.
I think I’m in love. Arn thought as had got up and walked into the armory. Over the last few months, he had not brought in any armor. He told himself it was for the challenge, but mostly, it was because he was a massive tool and idiot. This time, he would probably need to do better.
He first put on a pair of loose trousers and a light shirt, and then set about gathering all of the equipment he wanted before donning any armor. Arn first put on an arming jacket. Then he moved on to leg protection. Plate greaves linked together with plate cuisse to provide full coverage of his legs. He had taken one to many claws to the shin, and a very memorable death began with the kobolds removing all parts below his knees. It was all hung from the arming jacket in order to place the weight on his hips. If the jacket wasn’t tight enough, weight would be transferred to his shoulders, and limit his mobility. Next, he put on a mail skirt to protect the fitting between his cuisse and arming jacket.
To outfit his upper body, he first put on a black gambeson. Thick linen covered almost all parts, except the armpits, where the linen was replaced by mail. The linen armor also extended past his waist and provided additional cover over his mail skirt. If he could, he would have put on a plate breastplate and plackart, but Arn couldn’t tie the straps on by himself. Instead, he put on a sleeveless brigandine. Plate vambraces protected his forearms, and before he moved on to his pauldrons, he saw to his head protection.
A gorget slid over his brigandine to protect his neck. Although a bevor and sallet would have, in his opinion, provided better protection, he couldn’t move sufficiently enough to feel comfortable trusting his life to one. The kobolds were small, and loved attacking from his blind spots. He finally placed a thick linen cap over his head to pad it once he decided to wear his helmet. The armet he left off for now, he’d put it on before the fight, and the kobolds would find it suspicious. Plus, it was the perfect way to hide Lou by placing him inside the helmet, underneath his gauntlets. Armor fully donned, Arn grabbed his weapons, their various sheaths, and quiver, before walking up to the door. Equipping them now would only draw undue suspicion, so he had to risk leaving non-essentials behind.
He had one shot to get this right. If he died, the kobolds would reinforce their numbers and he’d probably go insane before long again. Also, he couldn’t let anything happen to Lou. There was no reality in which he could face his wife again if the tiny owl was harmed.