I lay prone once more, this time atop the barn, my armour blending into the surface thanks to a change of colour. It hadn’t come yesterday, to my relief and slight disappointment, but it also meant we’d had time to fully set up the traps. The branches swayed in the wind, hypnotic in their rhythm.

A sudden abnormal shift in the branches shook me from my trance. The leaves shuddered, something large was headed this way. I prepared myself, what happened next would decide how this battle played out.

For a creature of its size it moved in a rather unobtrusive manner, quietly moving forward in the gloom of the night. It arrived at the barricade, which it seemed to stare at for a while, pushing it and watching it wobble. I held my breath, had I perhaps miscalculated? With a roar, it smashed the barricade, rushing forward, the moment of truth.

Have you ever heard of the punji bear trap?

Its foot fell upon the centre of the hole, miraculously accurate. The two double boarded planks snapped shut on its legs, the nails driven into the calves, as its foot plunged into the hole. I smiled, and stood to throw one of the javelins I’d borrowed at the farmer’s suggestion.

It sunk into the ogre’s chest, the ogre itself still reeling from the pain of its foot. Two more sunk between its neck and breastbone, and it bellowed in pain. I slid down, pulling the spear from beside me as I moved forward. The ogre bellowed once more, and I realized that someone had decided to attack from behind it. The ogre’s body blocked my view, but I hastened my approach.

The ogre turned away from me, swinging a large branch backwards. I heard a thud. Dammit. I thought, as the ogre turned back to me I ducked under the swing it attempted, skidding half a metre across the ground as I did so. I thrust the spear hard into the ogre’s chest, the tip disappearing into its hide as I did so. I pulled, and it left its body with a wet squelch. I aimed again, but this time the ogre put its arm in between, the spear sunk in, and it twisted its arm, wrenching the spear from my grasp.

I grimaced in pain, rapidly drawing my sword from my side as it pulled the spear out with its teeth, and snapped it between them. I fell into stance as it swung again, the sword now firmly in my grasp. Now I slowly chipped away at it, rivulets of blood watering the earth. At this height, there were only so many points that bled well, two being the femoral arteries. You may want to skip my experience of cutting at the third point.

My final cut was to the carotid artery, once it had lost enough blood to become disoriented and unbalanced. A gush of blood fell over me, making me glad for the waterproofing I’d done with the armour. The farmhand! I realized, alarmed, turning past the feebly struggling ogre. The man lay down on the floor, eyes open. I’d missed his death throes, but the stench of faeces and urine were present.

Their chest had been caved in, a lack of armour of any kind causing the blow to snap all of his ribs. I knelt for a moment, as the others on the farm gathered around me. Then I stood, walking back to the still bleeding ogre. I climbed up its back, and plunged the blade into its skull from behind. It jerked once, sluggish, already near death. I hopped down, walking off towards the nearest river.

I washed out the blood, letting it slick off into the river as I went. I leant against the side of the bank, letting the water wash over me. I can’t remember his name. I realized. Did he ever tell it to me? My left shoulder ached, when the ogre had wrenched away the spear, my arm had nearly popped from its socket, and that hadn’t been an exaggeration, I would have to adjust the armour’s elasticity.

I pressed on it again, making sure it truly hadn’t popped from the strain. His death was avoidable, I even noted that I should have watched him. I gritted my teeth. Dammit.

[It’s not your fault, we cannot be everywhere at once.] Page said.

The only reason I risk myself is to prevent deaths, because I can’t just walk away. I suppose I could blame my parents for that attitude. I smiled wanly. I cannot let myself fail. I thought back, my thoughts bristling with more resolve than I felt.

When I returned, the man’s corpse had been removed, though the ogre remained. I walked up to it, my hand cupping my chin as I wondered how I would deal with it. “We’ll drag it into the forest later.” The farmer said, walking up behind me. “Would you like to stay for the prayers?” He queried, his expression soft.

I nodded. “Yes, yes, I would.”

“One of them has arrived.” He continued. “He said he came from Soren, seeking you.”

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It was easy to tell apart the person the farmer had been speaking of. He was dressed in leather armour, lamellar in its construction, as all functional leather was wont to be, as well as a hood. Along with a bow and arrows, he had some throwing knives slung across his chest, a dagger and a short sword. He turned to me and greeted me with a slight bow, I did the same. Not something I’ve done in a while, where’s he from I wonder?

I stood as they carved his name into the tree, after a solemn silence we prepared dinner. The bow user provided some meat, which went towards enriching the broth they had already made. I sat to eat, and he sidled up beside me. “You must be the one from Soren, I have troubling news.” His voice was bright, and somewhat high. I turned to him, an eyebrow raised as I ate.

“Is it about the gnolls?” I asked. Because if it isn’t, then the world truly must be ending. Surprise painted across their features, and I inadvertently held my breath.

“They’ve already started?” He asked, startled. I breathed a sigh of relief, causing him to look at me quizzically. I gave a wan smile.

“I thought it’d be another problem, I have enough on my plate thank you.” He snorted. “But yes, one of the group has already attacked Haen, the gnoll tribe by Haen disavows their involvement, and I’m inclined to believe them. He said that it was to be a collective strike at farms and villages.”

“Yes, I came to find you so we could do something about them.” He remarked. “You’re the only one whose location is actually known.” He shrugged. “Though that’s about all we know about you, along with that armour.”

“If they’re going after villages and farms, we can’t take them.” I stated. “We don’t have the numbers, and even if we did, none of the cohesion.” He folded his arms. “Most we could hope for are surprise hit and run tactics, along with traps.”

He cocked his head, and as the hood shifted I finally found the reason for why his face had been gnawing at me. The ears, they were sylvan, that probably qualified them as an elf, or just supernatural. Did you know elves were depicted simply as idealized humans? They were simply… perfect, and had supernatural powers along with ambivalence towards humanity. I wasn’t sure how that translated in this world though, if they were truly elves at all. This explained the softer features of their face, instead of the rugged features I’d expected.

“That’s really not the kind of attitude I’d expected from you.” He said. “But then I suppose you’re pretty strange, even for a classification like us.”

I arched an eyebrow at that. “What have you heard?” It seemed to be a recurring theme, me not living up to whatever expectations were had of me, of irregulars in general.

“Well, we’re often travelling for either the adventure, or the thrill of combat.” He replied. “Skies, most of us gain our skills and tools because we decided to venture out, to seek something. We don’t think about why we can’t do something, we think about how we can.” His eyes held a certain intensity to them as he said this. “Well, most of the time.” He trailed off. “If you settled down, despite your set of skills and your tools, there’s probably a good reason for it.”

I noted that that didn’t answer my question in the slightest, but didn’t remark on the fact, simply nodding a few times. “My name is Numen.” He said, raising his hand to his chest in a fist.

“Kael.” I replied, mimicking his action. What the action was I had no idea, but it seemed appropriate, as he smiled and nodded in response.

“So what are we going to do?” I asked him, having finished my meal. I set down the bowl.

“We’ll have to find the gnoll army, or war party. The other irregulars will reach it in their own time, things like this will attract us like flies to honey.” He said. “The rumours I’ve heard place it to the south east. We’ll need to move swiftly if we intend to arrive before they begin.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I need to inform Soren of that, I promised Lapi I’d be back tonight.” There was no telling what Lapi might do, though haughty occasionally, she seemed the type to chase me down herself if she felt I might be in danger.

“Lapi?” He asked. His head cocked and querying.

“She’s a dire wolf.” I answered. “Attacked by a demon.”

His eyebrows raised a notch as I said that, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“We could ask for Hnivon to pass a message to Soren.” He said. “They might be able to keep the dire wolf from running about.”

That probably won’t be necessary, they can just tell the dire wolf too while they’re at it.

“We’re leaving at next light?” I asked, standing to remove the bowls, both mine and his.

“We’re leaving after we both get some rest.” He corrected. I sighed. Time to make preparations then.

I asked the farmer if it would be possible for them to send a message to Soren. He agreed amicably, the farmhand looked at me strangely when I specifically instructed him to tell Lapi I’d be gone. I shrugged inwardly, it still seemed like he’d do it, and that’s what mattered.

Hnivon’s farmer lent me a spear to replace the one I’d lost, along with a few javelins, which I thanked him heavily for. It had certainly restricted the ogre’s movements, which had been welcome. I refilled my waterskin, careful to ensure that the waterskin I used for poison wasn’t chosen by mistake. That done, I went to the barn, falling on the hay along with Numen, who slept across me.

I was nudged awake by Numen, which was to say he touched me and I rolled off to enter a ready stance. That was embarrassing. I thought, sheathing my sword and rubbing my bleary eyes. Travel light travel far was his philosophy I supposed, as he carried naught but what he wore. I’d fashioned a quiver of sorts for the javelins, inciting fascination from Numen.

We would travel on foot, moving along the road before cutting across the forest for speed. Numen had a compass, which meant we wouldn’t get lost and run in circles. Unless we came across magnetic beasts… I don’t want to think about it too much. I carried my bestiary with me, slotted into one of my pockets. Numen had one too, written in the same flowing script.

War it is I guess. I thought. Let’s see if I can put out these fires.