After a long and fairly uncomfortable, hot and sweaty night in the tent with a broken arm and bruised organs – I awoke the next morning with a sense of new-found perspective. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger after all. I’d made some errors of judgement, and I got beat up for it. Shit happens. I needed to keep my chin up and move on to my next objective.

Getting payback against that oversized mutant mole for fucking me up.

It wasn’t going to be easy. I had made a plan in my mind, to try and make a build from affixes on my armour and Stigma – but finding them wasn’t so simple. Back around Sull those kinds of things were expensive as hell. But Tahar had indicated to me that someone in her village knew how to make them.

Affixing was a unique combination of metallurgy and magic craftsmanship. It expended a large amount of magical energy to create a permanent bonus effect, stored within a meaningful rune. Those runes changed depending on the area and culture the Affixer came from. The intent was always the same, to infer a power onto the wielder that can protect them in battle or enhance their attacks.

I swung my legs over the edge of my bed and grunted in pain. Even though I had chugged an entire high-quality healing potion before I slept, it still hurt to move. I reached over and grabbed Stigma from her resting place, finding it surprisingly easy to wield her using only one hand. Stigma hadn’t spoken to me much in a long time… not since before we boarded the boat.

Maybe that was for the best. Her advice always led to trouble. The camp was coming along quickly, with more tents being pitched and regular trips to and from the main ship using our rowboat. I strode forth with confidence only to run into a solid brick wall made from flesh and feathers. Tahar had stepped in front of me without warning and planted my face straight into her chest. I sputtered and backed away.

“You scared the shit out of me.”

I had to adjust to seeing Tahar again. The tall bird-woman was still not wearing anything to cover her chest. She titled her head, clearly not understanding the meaning of my words. My eyes dipped down to her stomach; you could grate cheese on those abs.

“Village?”

She smiled, “Yes. Village! We go.”

I looked to the campfire where Cali, Benadora and Adrian were sitting. “Hey Cali, wanna’ tag along?”

“Of course. My mind races at the prospect of being ritualistically killed, my heart ripped from my chest and offered to their tribal gods.”

“…I don’t think they’re going to do that.”

Benadora was down in the dumps about what happened yesterday. She was expecting to waltz into the Tall School and have the run of the place. Turns out things are never that simple. From what I could hear before I fell asleep, she spent the rest of the evening exchanging language with Tahar by the fire.

We approached the sandy dune that led up and over the cliff-face and started to climb. Cali had to give me a hand since one of mine was still wrapped up in a sling. “How far away is the village?” I asked. Tahar took a moment to process my question. When we reached the top, she pointed to a spot far in the distance, a river nestled between a thick patch of trees. I could see a small plume of smoke rising from there. I estimated that it would take us about an hour to get there.

“Alright, let’s get moving.”

The weather was sweltering. It was much hotter on this island than it was in Pascen. I’d forgone wearing my chainmail after the previous day, protection be damned. I was roasting like a pig between that and my body plate. My helmet also hung loose from my waist. I tried to take in as many sights as possible, from the new flora and fauna, to the ground under my feet. Tahar would occasionally point something out and provide a one or two-word description about it.

She was also still intent on learning grammar from me. She had a lot of basic vocabulary, but the way those words connected together was a much harder concept to grasp. There must have been a few previous occasions where visitors arrived here; possibly even other expeditions into the Tall School and other sites of interest. Judging by the number of empty graves it was doubtful they made it very far.

The foliage thickened as we got closer to the tribe’s home. I had so many questions about this place and the people living in it, but Tahar’s speech wasn’t advanced enough to convey the true scale of things. Were there other tribes? Were they friendly? What was Tahar’s race named, if it even had a name?

When we broke through the treeline, at least some of those questions were answered. It was lively town bordering the banks of a large oasis and flowing river. Houses made from versatile branches and wooden planks were stacked on top of each other. It was very open, with a communal space in the centre – filled with several benches and seating areas, and even a makeshift playground for a gaggle of young children. There was everything you could expect from a settlement, including several shops being perused by the townspeople. They wore colourful, feather cloaked clothes in varying levels of modesty.

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You connected to a wooden plank walkway and descended down into the town proper. The arrival of two strangers caused a hushed excitement to spread between the kids, who ran over to get a closer look at us. Even for children they were very tall. One of them, a girl, latches herself onto Tahar’s leg. “Tahar, Tahar! Erhwan tor sumarn?”

She smiles and ruffles her hair, “Hem.”

I leaned over, “What are they saying?”

“Excited. New friends.”

A pair of curious claws quickly grabbed the sleeve of my shirt and pulled me down to my knees. One of the boys quickly wrapped his arms around my neck and hung off me like a climbing frame. Tahar said some words to the effect that he shouldn’t get touchy-feely with a stranger, I just laughed it off and stood up straight, supporting him with my free arm.

Tahar led us down into the main square and towards one of the shops. Sensing that nothing fun was going to happen during such a boring visit, the child in my arm slipped away from me and ran off behind one of the buildings with his friends, waving goodbye as he went.

“This. Affixer.”

Tahar had brought us to one of the shops that surrounded the main square. It was a small abode, seemingly shared between two different craftsmen. It was divided down the middle, with different selections of goods and decorations on either side. One housed a kiln and an anvil, a small mat weaved from some kind of fibre sat in the middle. The other side displayed several sheets of parchment with different marks written onto them, along with a small description underneath. I couldn’t understand what they said – but I understood that they were the displays for curious shoppers.

An old bird emerged from behind a set of colourful curtains, his face brightening as his eyes fell upon Tahar. They spoke animatedly with each other for a few minutes, leaving me and Cali in the cold.

“What do you want?” Tahar asked.

“Strength. To kill the beast.”

Tahar turned to the displays and started to pick through them with her hands. She carefully studied the descriptions of each one, explaining what they did to me. None of them did what I wanted, until she mentioned a berserker affix that he had available.

[Berserk] was a status effect that could enhance the strength of the person when they took damage for a short period of time. Back home it would cost a pretty penny. Here? I didn’t know. “That,” I stated firmly, “Good start.” I brought out my pouch and showed her the metal bars inside, but it was only then that I learned a harsh lesson about their economy.

Tahar shook her head, “No money. Must barter.”

I grumbled a swear to myself and pocketed my hard-earned cash. It looked like it wasn’t going to be that easy after all. She spoke with the older man again. He stroked his beard and contemplated what he needed from us. When he finally answered, Tahar didn’t seem so enthused.

“Meat. Food.”

“He wants food for the affix?”

“Yes.”

I was no hunter, and I didn’t expect Tahar to provide meat out of the kindness of her heart.

“I cannot hunt.”

I needn’t have worried, “I can teach. Show how to hunt.”

“Really?”

“Need food too. Provide tribute to village.”

You could never have too much food. Instead of trading using coin, food and other basic goods were the bedrock of exchange here. It was therefore highly likely that everyone of adult age in the village could hunt to some extent, with a few exceptions of trade specialists like our affixer here. I’d almost forgotten about my ambition to learn a hunting skill, but now it was back with a vengeance. I could save a lot of money on buying food if I could just find my own instead.

“We hunt Toh-Ran. Tall Legs.”

Tahar shook hands with the vendor and escorted us back out. A short walk later and we came to a stop outside of a small hut. Tahar ducked her head and crawled inside. She rummaged around inside and eventually re-emerged with a long, wooden bow clasped between her claws. She left it on the ground and turned back. Then she came back with a quiver and a set of arrows.

“Bow. Good for hunt.”

I spoke each word with emphasis, “I don’t use bow.”

“I teach. I teach!” she insisted, “Ren strong, can do.”

I sighed and picked up the colourfully decorated weapon. It was deceptively heavy, being made from a very solid wood and sized for some who stood four heads above me. My buffed strength made it rather trivial regardless. We followed Tahar back out of town and into the nearby plains, where the long grass swayed in the wind.

A single wooden target was hung around the neck of a short tree. The number of war wounds the trunk was sporting suggested a long history of being used as target practice by juvenile hunters. It was time to get my first taste of attacking from long range. Tahar took the bow from my hands and drew the string, spreading her legs and setting her shoulders.

“Watch.”

She took one of the arrows and nocked it. The incredible muscles in her arms bulged outwards as she applied the maximum amount of pressure she could. She tilted it upwards slightly, and then released it. The bolt flew at a blinding speed, snapping into the wicker and wood target a millisecond later. It was one powerful bow.

“You. Copy.”

I did as she demanded. I unhooked my arm from the sling and tested the function of my joints. There was still a sharp pain, but it wasn’t debilitating like I expected. Benadora must have doped me to hell with healing potions while I was sleeping. She handed me the bow and watched with eyes full of expectation. I didn’t want to make the issue worse, so I measured my strength and used my other hand to draw the string.

I nocked an arrow and tried to copy everything she did. Tahar rounded my body and used her hands to correct my positioning. Happy that I had a stable stance, she stepped back and patted me on the back. “Aim true.”

I sucked in a breath and aimed at the target in a similar manner – not that accuracy was the most important thing at the moment. I let go, but my arrow did not repeat Tahar’s feat. Instead it fell sloppily into the dirt in front of us. My arms had turned into noodles at the last possible moment. Doing this with an injured arm was going to be tricky.

“Released strength. Speed taken.”

This was going to take a while.