The next morning, after a rousing by the most persistent little blue screen you ever did see, we set off again. Around an hour into our ride, the road split. I consulted the map and found that the road had two ways to go before it met back up about a day outside of Volstad. One fork went along more grasslands and the other cut out to follow the coast all the way to the city. I veered us to the coast path. Oskar didn’t seem to like my idea and pointed to the other path, saying something in his language. I couldn’t understand him, and honestly, even if I did, I would still have ignored him. Another day of this boring terrain and I might lose my mind. I’d rather risk whatever he was concerned about than deal with the treacherous fall from boredom to insanity.

He seemed to notice my stubbornness and quieted down in resignation to the fact. After a couple hours more of riding, I could make out a roar. It was the sound of the water in its constant quest to slay the earth. We crested another low hill to finally see a stretch of horizon that wasn’t grassy hills. The water stretched out far enough that I couldn’t see its other shore. Intellectually I knew this must be a large body of water like a lake since we were inside the tower. But to my eyes it looked like an ocean shore stretching off until it fell off the edge of the world.

The water was significantly lower than the elevation of the grasslands, like the biome had been bisected and disjointed from the next area. The waves carved at the shore, creating large deep fissures into the cliff faces. I think they were fjords. But I had never seen a fjord before, so it was only a guess. The road travelled alongside the cliffs with a clearance of few hundred feet. I dismounted and got closer. Pest joined me and showed zero fear as he ran right up to the edge before peering over. I wasn’t quite so reckless and stayed a few feet back as I peered over. I slowly inched forward as the winds blew against me. It wasn’t too far down I guess, maybe thirty feet or so. So not fjords? I think they had to be thousands of feet high to be those.

The winds decided to take that moment to switch, instead of a gentle push against me they reversed and slammed into me with from behind. I reeled back, but it was too late. Like a buffoon I pitched off the edge of the cliff and plummeted to the water below. Fucking fuckeddey fuc… Echoed through my head before it was interrupted with me slamming into the water. It was cold as hell too.

I hit hard, disoriented, and sinking in the water. I struggled with my weak swimming technique as the waves pushed and pulled me. I started to panic and thrashed and kicked for all I was worth, a large wave shoved at me, and I painfully kicked the rocks below the water. I braced and shoved against them, breaching the surface of the water and taking in a small breath before the water sucked me back under. This repeated a couple of times, my feet and legs screaming in pain as they were smashed against rocks. I finally got stabilized and was able to grab some sharp stone and guide myself to the cliff face. The water slammed me against it as I pulled myself up and out of the water onto a stone shelf.

“Fuuuuccckk…” I groaned and grumbled as I coughed and wheezed as the water slipped over the edge to slosh me. I looked up and Pest was looking down at me from above.

“Bro!” I shouted at him in a ragged voice. “Get the hell away from the edge.”

‘Chairman, why jump?’ He questioned me.

“I didn’t jump you little shit! The wind pushed me! Get the hell back so you don’t end up the same!” I got out in a ragged yell.

‘Pest won’t jump. Business is too good.’ He muttered as he disappeared.

“Just go get to Finley and Oskar! Stay away from the damn edge, I’ll try to find a way up!” I shouted against the noise of wind and water. I sat up and looked at my legs, cuts and gashes were bleeding into the water all over the stone, but no bone was poking out, so that was something.

I looked around, the cliff was sheer, but had a lot of jagged hand holds. My hands and forearms were bruised and cut up from the swim as well. I wouldn’t be scaling any cliff face today. Along the shoreline towards the direction we came, it was sheer cliff and waves as the coast wove in and out of my sightline. The other way, the direction we were travelling in, had the thinnest of paths past the shelf I was sheltering on. I could partially see the coastline as it snaked along, lots of hidden inlets and alcoves hiding from my view. I got to my feet wincing, my boots were torn up along with my feet and blood oozed out of them in wet rivulets. I felt like I had gone through a blender and looked it too. I started getting a feeling that clothing would be my highest expense in this new world.

I limped along the thin trail as it rose out of the water while leaning heavily on the cliff face. It rounded a corner and cut into a small inlet. The trail disappeared at the back of the inlet, but a similar ledge was on the other side and continued along. Unfortunately for me it was a little bit of a jump to clear the gap. I girded myself and took the leap. It was only a handful of feet, but my feet made it feel like more. I hissed in pain as I landed and leaned heavily into the cliff, debris rained down and filled my shirt as I pressed my face into the wall and cursed. I scraped along the ledge. This sucked. Hopefully around the next bend it would start heading upwards.

As I came around the next bend, I could tell my benefactor god heard my prayers, because the trail started dipping down closer to the water. Bastard, I silently cursed him. The trail continued along into an alcove and then back out around another bend, slowly descending. It was near the same level as the water by the time it went around a corner. The water sprayed me and soaked my feet, the cold water actually making them feel better, as I crept along. The water slammed and tugged at me, but it didn’t pull me off my path. As I came around the next bend the trail raised out of the water as it crossed another inlet. The apex of this one made a sharp V. I tried to climb up it, but I couldn’t hold my grip enough to fight my way up the wet rock. I felt I should be able to do this, I was stronger than I ever had been, but it wasn’t working in my favor.

I gave up and continued along the trail, the next curve was big and fat, the cliff above seemed to loom over it. I started to get an odd feeling of excitement as I crept closer to the bend. I came around the corner and a cave was recessed into the cliff face. It was well hidden, you could only see it from the trail that I was on, or if you were out in the water on a boat, I supposed.

The trail led into the dark cave, the light thin and fading to black as the cave advanced back into the earth. I crept along, moss clung to the stone wall under my hands, the smell of it made my Herbalist skill trigger. I knew it would make a poultice to prevent infections and ease pain. I quickly took a mouthful of it and started chewing. It was bitter as all hell, but I kept chewing handfuls of it until I had enough to fill the cuts on my hands and legs. It took me a little while, but it made me feel better. I decided to not struggle with getting my boots off and just jammed as much of it as I could into the holes and cuts on my boots.

After that short respite, sitting on the cave floor and tending my wounds the best I could, I decided to explore. I slowly went inside, the light was poor, and I let my eyes adjust as much as they would. The cave was deep and an arm span wide. It was full of sharp rock and ancient stalagmites and stalactites grew from the floor and ceiling. I shuffled forward my shins bumped into stone. I felt at it, not being able to see anything. It was a shelf of stone, about the perfect height for a seat, so I decided to take another short break and rest against it.

I looked around for Pest’s party outline and it looked like they were keeping pace with my slow progress along the cliff face. I figured he was asleep because his outline clearly showed him wrapped around himself in a little bundle of cuteness. He bobbed around slightly, so I knew he was still in the rucksack hanging from Finley.

I decided the cave wasn’t very exciting and seriously lacked in pirate treasure. I don’t know what that flutter of excitement was when I neared it, it still hadn’t died down really, but this seemed a bust. Another place to make note of if I needed a hiding place or secure base. As I leaned forward to get off my seat, it shifted slightly. I gripped it. How odd, it was a stone slab that seemed a little too smooth. I traced my hands around the stone, feeling. It was too uniform for a natural formation. The slab had a seem about an inch down and then went all the way to the floor. There were seems along the bottom as well. It was roughly three feet wide and twice that in depth. As big as a coffee table or so.

I realized the stone slab must be a lid of some kind, so I tested pushing on it. It gave the slightest budge with some effort. The wounds on my hands protested, but I slowly worked it to the side until gravity helped me out and it crashed to the ground beside the base. A faint glow came from one end of the box. I tentatively reached in to touch the glow. I felt a course and rough fabric, it was loose and came away easy. Under it were two glowing blue orbs. The glow was faint, just enough to notice. They looked suspiciously like eyes. I let out a long breath. I was starting to get a little creeped out.

I was startled as something brushed my arm. I looked and waved my arms around but didn’t feel or see anything in the darkness. Must have been a moth or something seeking the glow. I looked back toward the glow, and it was gone. What the hell? I wiped my face with my hand. Was I just seeing shit? I stared at the area. The glow was back. It was looking more and more like these glowing spots that looked like eyes were blinking slowly. That was enough evidence for me. It was time to leave this black cave. I slowly stood and started to back away. I bumped into stalagmites as I felt my way backwards, staring at the site.

The orbs slowly rose into the air and stopped at a tell-tale height. Yep. Definitely eyes. Inspect.

Name: Corpse

Species: Human

FLAGS: PRESERVED, UNDEAD, DRAUGR_0

This is what I get. Yep. My dumbass goes into a pitch-black cave, opens up a stone ‘box’ and gets eaten by a god damn zombie. And of course, I can’t even bitch it doesn’t belong. Vikings damn near invented zombies. The light started to get a little better the further I went, and I finally started to get a look at my new friend.

It was an emaciated male corpse, his skin so dried and tight he looked l like he was made from a leather balloon that was sucked together vacuum sealer over a skeleton. His beard and hair brittle and yellow looked like ancient straw from a Halloween decoration left out too long. His loose clothing was in great disrepair but still vaguely resembled a warrior’s outfit. A fancy tunic over pants, with leather straps and buckles holding leather plates in strategic positions. Of course, it was all made for him when he had about 170 more pounds of muscle and flesh. His chest inflated and a loud wheeze accompanied by a puff of dust billowed out of him. A gnashing snarl revealed yellow teeth barley hanging onto his receded and atrophied gums. Prime horror movie and zombie reveal scene.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“Howdy,” I said politely as I stumbled over the uneven cave floor. He didn’t bother to reply. I came to the cave mouth and had two options. Fight it out or jump to my probable death. Well. Shit. I drew my knife and faced off against the zombie. He shuffled forward in a surprisingly steady gate. Just before he reached me, grasping at my body with outstretched arms like a toddler wanting to be picked up. I slammed into him with a Bullrush, knife first.

[Congratulations! Bullrush has increased to Level 2!]

Bullrush was a mistake. I was thinking he would be frail and light, considering he looked like a fashion model with an eating disorder. But whatever magic animated him also made him solid as a linebacker. I slammed into him and crumpled like a bird hitting a window. I bounced off and smashed into the stone ground, stunned. He wasn’t quick, so I had time to collect my wits as he reached down and clutched at me. He didn’t slam and pound his fists into me like I expected. His cold leathery hands pawed at me and clutched at my clothes. His grip was iron, he pulled me up halfway into the air before slamming me into the floor.

My vision flashed and I was stunned again as my head cracked against the cave floor. I tried to curse, but words weren’t working at the moment. His gripping and grasping hands tore at my body, ripping my shirt. His hands slowly crawled toward my neck, and he started to squeeze, attempting to choke the life out of me. I fought and struggled, striking at him and prying at his fingers. His grip was solid, his strength so much greater than mine. I gripped the handle of my knife, stuck in his side from where it had lodged and twisted. He had no reaction, I pulled it out and stabbed at him until he batted at my arm and the knife went flying.

His blue glowing eyes glared into mine as he clamped down again on my neck. His leathery hands both squeezing. His face was a rictus snarl, I’m not sure from his undying rage or his mummification. This is how I would die today. Unless I cheated, like a goblin. I pried against his hands and focused on him, opening his rune-code rift. I struggled as my vision tunneled, searching for the flags section. I found it and started to remove the keywords after it. I tried a dozen runes and closed the rift. He flashed into a pink abomination but was still gripping my throat in an iron grasp. Just before the darkness claimed me, I erased a handful more of runes.

I awoke a short time later. The zombie lay atop me, his normal coloration returned and whatever magic had animated him was missing.

“No means no!” I ground out and shoved the putrid thing off me. I immediately regretted it, the stench coming off of him suddenly so bad that I could taste it on the air.

I heaved and gaged as I staggered to my feet, my throat raw and angry from being mistreated so much in the last few hours. After I gained my bearings, I Inspected the body.

Name: Corpse

Species: Human

FLAGS: DECAY

I had removed the flags from the corpse, which got rid of his magic. However, in the mad dash to clear them out, I hadn’t been able to do anything more than glance at them. I wasn’t able to remember or record those tags. They would have been valuable in some way. It was a curious thing that the DECAY tag was on him. I guess removing flags didn’t stop the target to fall out of sync with the world. Something kept order even with anomalies. This was sort of good, harder to predict results of changed for me, but easier to cover my tracks. I tinkered with the corpse to record the DECAY flag.

I searched, and found my knife, glinting in the light. As I looked back at the corpse, a thought struck me. If something was adjusting the objects I made, keeping a balance, what would stop this thing from rising again? Fire would.

I took my knife and activated my Pyromaniac skill. Sparks rained out of my hands and onto the zombies clothing. It started to smolder immediately and a flames took. The zombie’s preservation had dried it to the point of becoming kindling. The flames had no issue as they slowly spread through the remains. I stood tall and proud of my kill, even if I cheated. But I should have remembered the Pyromaniac skill while I had the knife hilt deep in him. But it was probably for the best. Being straddled by a flaming zombie did not sound healthy.

I looked around the cave. The light from the low flames was enough to show me the things I previously couldn’t see. The wall above the stone casket was carved with runes in an effigy to the dead. A portrait of a wide round face was carved in the center of them. I had no idea what any of it meant, but as I gazed at the casket my heart rate quickened, and an unnatural excitement took me.

I broke off a limb an arm from the flaming zombie and used it as a morbid torch to peer into it. It stank of burnt leather and rot, but it would do for now. The stone basin inside the coffin wasn’t deep, just enough for the body and some belongings. Inside was a rotten bow, string long ago deteriorated and the body of it brittle and cracked. Same went a quiver of arrows. Near where his head was, the cloth that I had removed from his eyes remained. I picked it up and the weight of its burden tore through its deteriorated fibers. Two large yellow coins. I collected them. Inspect.

Name: Coin

Material: Gold

Value: Double-Weight

FLAGS: CORROSION_RESISTANT

I felt around the dark casket for other hidden treasures. I pulled out a sword. Or I should say, it once was a sword. It had corroded and lost all of its past luster. I inspected it as well.

Name: Sword

Material: Iron

Durability: Ruined

Value: Trash

FLAGS: DECAY, RUST

I frowned at the rotted thing. I would have to perform some experiments on it. I set it to the side and finished my search, there was only one more object. I pulled it out and it glinted in the light. It was a small axe. A hatchet, silver and shining, carvings adorned its surfaces. It was very sparkly, and as I pulled it out my unnatural excitement fluttered and ebbed. But real excitement took its place. This was treasure! A real treasure, lifted from an ancient crypt of a long dead warrior.

I received a new skill and didn’t delay to check it out.

[Congratulations. You have unlocked the Graverobber skill!]

[Graverobber]

Unlock Conditions – Acquire a treasure from a tomb or grave.

[lvl 1] – You have a chance to find something worthwhile in graves. ODIN SAYS YOU CAN TAKE IT WITH YOU, BUT DOES IT STILL COUNT IF SOMEONE ELSE TAKES IT FIRST?

Well, I suppose it wouldn’t be here if the gods didn’t want me to take it.

The blade was very fitting to the Norse, a large cutting surface with a deep beard that scaled back quickly into a thin connection. The shaft was made of dark wood, smooth and straight, maybe a foot long. The handle was engraved with furrows to ensure a firm grip and turned into intricate Celtic knots at mid-shaft. From there flowing swirls that teased at the shapes of beasts tangled their way up its remainder. The head itself was clear on the cutting edge, still sharp as the day the blacksmith cut it. The rest of the head had etching that was blocky, playing counter swirls and curves on the shaft and resembled an endless maze. I Inspected the item, hoping against hope to have found a magic item, a true weapon of power.

Name: Hatchet

Material: Silver Alloy, Oak

Durability: Undamaged

Value: Treasure

FLAGS: CORROSION_RESISTANT, INERT

The handle must have benefited from the abilities of the axe head, it was strong and solid, not rotten or withered like the rest of the zombies’ belongings. I pondered the INERT flag. Maybe because it had lay stagnant in this crypt for so long? But if it was inert, what happened when it became active? There wasn’t an obvious way to figure it out so I left it be for now. I guess no Mjolnir for me. Yet a nice hatchet was appreciated, providing silver alloy could keep an edge. I slipped it into my belt, and it hung there easily. As I stood, I winced, the loot lust dying down had my pain coming to the forefront of my attention again.

My body was bruised and bloody and I was starting to feel it. I decided it wasn’t as much fun as people would lead one to believe so I put my reserved stat point into Constitution. I felt slightly better, but I wasn’t sure if it was due to the stat point, or placebo effect. Looking at my wounds, my body didn’t seem to be healed or less damaged. My pain tolerance just rose some more. I had a self-diagnosed high pain tolerance, but damned if all these bruises and cuts didn’t bother me. I just couldn’t admit it, to myself or anyone else. The manly way!

I shuffled out of the cave, tossing the limb-torch back onto the corpse. It still smoldered, filling the cave with its nasty scent. The trail continued along the edge of the cliffs. The fresh air was welcome as I got to the cave entrance. I brought the rusted sword with me. I took some time to piece apart its rune-code and confirmed I had the DECAY and took down the RUST flags.

I noticed, even though the flags were removed, it didn’t make the weapon any better. No rust was removed, or durability returned. Maybe it just stopped further degradation. If I had a bag of holding or some sort of pocket dimension storage, I’d horde it. Hell, I’d keep the zombie corpse. I’d collect everything I could get my grubby little mitts on. But instead, I tossed it into the water. Easy come, easy go. I decided to examine the hatchet in better light. The engravings revealed no secrets, so I opened its rune-code. The INERT flag being removed didn’t change anything with it. The CORROSION_RESISTANT and INERT flags were recorded and added to my growing dictionary as well. I returned it to the way it was and slipped it back into my belt.

I looked at my path ahead. It was time to get the hell off the cliff side.

The rest of the path was uneventful, a few places where I had to put my back to the wall and shuffle past due to how small it got, but otherwise very straight forward. It eventually came to a few large steps. Nearly chest high. It took a bit of doing to climb them, but they got me back to the grasslands above. I flopped down on my back and stretched out in the grass as I took some reassuring breaths.

That was a hell of a trip. Within no time a small nose poked me in the ear and sniffled me all over my face.

‘You stink,’ Pest helpfully informed me.

“So do you,” I shot back. He gave me a disapproving look and disappeared back into the grasses. I decided to lay there for a bit.

Eventually I got up and made my way to Finley. Oskar was nowhere in sight.

“Where is the kid?” I asked Pest who was snuffling around.

‘He go after you jump.’ He informed me.

“I didn’t jump,” I argued.

‘No shame, sometimes business do poorly, and chairman cannot take.’ He told me solemnly. I think it was the longest sentence I had ever got from him. And it was rubbish.

“Oh yea,” I said and showed him the coins I had found. “Does it look like we are doing poorly?” I mocked him and waved the coins at him. He stared at the coins in my hands like they were life giving ambrosia. I calmly put them into the rucksack, ignoring his intent stare. He couldn’t climb Finley to get into the rucksack.

‘Chairman Viktor.’ He atoned formally. ‘Pest knows you hurt from accidental fall. Would you overly suffer to assist him to nest.’

I smiled at him. I knew he was being a cheeky shit. I snatched him up and put him in the rucksack, he quivered with excitement as he dug his way into it and did whatever he needed to do with the new coins. I just chuckled and took some time to mount Finley. It hurt a little bit, but I managed. We continued along the coastline, the grasslands weren’t so boring anymore as I saw the wind rip at the vegetation along the edges. Yea, boring sounded good for the rest of today. But as I fiddled with my new hatchet, the excitement wasn’t bad either.

After a few hours we caught up to Oskar, who was mindlessly plodding down the road. Since he was a disloyal shit, I let him walk. Even Finley had stayed with me when I flew off the edge, didn’t even wander into the fields very far to eat flowers. I guess he owed me no loyalty, but he was still on my shit-list. Before long, my aches and pains got the better of me and I led us into the grasslands and away from the windy cliffs. I made a simple camp, without a fire, and called it a night.