I've had someone ask me what KAOO stood for and why i named the robot KAOO. KAOO in reverse is OOAK, which is the abbreviation for One Of A Kind. as simple as that. no complicated explanation behind it.
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“Nortrem, how’s Kiria holding up?” A tall warrior clad in full plate armour asked while bending down to inspect one of the traps his party had laid down. It was a bear trap designed to snap shut on a prey’s legs when stepped on. However, it was evident that the trap had been triggered and dealt the damage, but someone had pried it open to release the animal and then mangled the trap useless.
“Not very good Victor. Her wound has clotted over, but I think it was infected. Her body is burning up and she hasn’t even woken up in the last 2 days. Her breathing is getting shallower with each passing day. The herbs are not working as well as he had hoped. I’d say have 2, maybe 3 days to get her to an herbalist or she might not make it,” Nortrem replied in a worried voice. He was carrying an unconscious woman who seemed to be in her mid-20s on his back, while his hand tightened around the grip of his crossbow.
“I see. Then we will head back to the city now. The prey can wait. Her life is more important. Visage, Trish take point. Something triggered our trap, escaped and mangled our trap. The blood looks fresh, so whatever it was, it might still be around. Clara, climb up to the tree tops and find our bearing. I can’t even tell the direction of the sun in this dense forest,” Victor issued out commands as everybody nodded, getting into their respective positions.
The agile lady quickly made her way up the thick trees with hooks and spiked shoes, disappearing above the canopy momentarily before descending. Leaping down from the lowest branch, her feet sunk a little into the moist ground, barely missing a thick root.
“The city is that way, about 3 days away, 2 if we hurry. There is a river not far from here if we take a small detour. We could wash Kiria’s wounds and cool her body down in the river. It might buy her more time. Given our current pace, we can make it to the river in under 4 hours if nothing gets in our way,” Clara reported, pointing out the various directions.
“hmm. Ok then, let’s head for the river. We can clean up and fill up our sheepskins. It’ll be less forested there too, so we won’t have to worry too much about being ambushed by the Pritor,” Victor thought for a while before quickly making his decision. And so, the party moved through the forest with haste towards the river.
The hours passed by quickly and the sun was at its peak before the party could hear the clear sounds of flowing water. Hearing it only boosted their morale higher as they picked up their speed, moving ever closer to their primary goal. They had been dispatched 2 weeks ago by the city’s adventurer’s guild to handle a Pritor that had been targeting merchants and travellers near the city. A week a tracking and hunting had brought them to a vicious battle against the fearsome predator, only to let it escape after gravely wounding one of their own. And so, the leader of the party, Victor, made the decision to forego the assignment and prioritise their teammate, quickly heading back towards the city.
As Clara helped wash off the deep claw marks on Kiria’s back, the rest of the party quickly took a shower as well. The River was fast flowing near the middle, but it was perfect near the bank where the party waded around waist deep. They had all their gear removed and neatly stacked on fry ground while Victor kept watch, slowly running a grinding stone down the edge of his claymore.
After the brief but refreshing shower, the team dried off before reapplying the remainder of their herbs on Kiria’s wounds. Clara chewed up the herbs into a mash before lumping it together with her saliva and smearing it on the 3 gashes on Kiria’s back. Then, she proceeded to lay over a large leave over the gashed which stuck to her back with some water.
Finally dressing Kiria again in her washed but wet clothes, the party began their quick descent down the riverside, jogging down a gentle slope alongside the bank. The gravels crackled under their metal soles as the team made haste only to stop again a few hours later. There, they saw a sight they had never expected to see, or had ever seen before.
As the loud roar of the waterfall deafened their ears, their keen sight was nonetheless unaffected. Running across the river from one bank to the other, was a giant bridge. It was pitch black, with bright white rails. Thick stone columns supported the bridge from underneath, not the least bit affected by the rushing torrent of the water beneath. Then in the middle of the river, where the water was flowing the fastest, was a large 3 storey log cabin attached to the bridge, with its back facing the waterfall. Just below the triangular roof, was large Red Cross.
As the sun began to hover over the horizon, the black bridge lit up, with small white lights adorning its handrails and platform. Light streamed out from within the log cabin through glass windows on the ground floor and top floor. There, on the bank of the river was a slightly run-down, but still well maintained cabin which was smaller in size. However, the most surprising sight that garnered the attention of the party, was the large feline curled up in a ball sleeping just at the foot of the bridge.
Hearing the footsteps approaching, the rounded ears of the large cat perked up and twitched, before it opened its eyes to reveal a pair of beautiful golden irises that resembled sparkling jewels. Its whole body was black, like the bridge, and it was lean like a jaguar. 2 white stripes ran down from the inner corner of its eyes down the side of the snout and ended at the corners of its mouth.
As it growled at the intruders, the large feline swirled its three long tails in the air, brandishing the sharp bladed tips of each tail. One of its hind legs had its fur shaven, revealing the pinkish white skin along with what looks like bite marks, clearly from a trap. The wound had been tended to and cleaned up really well, but it still gave the cat a limp.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
Victor immediately froze, before quickly recovering from his surprise and drawing his blade. The party members also immediately drew their weapons, their senses all on high alert. Then, Victor noticed something. A collar. There was a bright red collar around the Pritor’s neck, and it was chained to the handrail of the bridge. Slowly easing his way towards the target, he stared down at the cat as it tried desperately to break free from the chains. This was his chance. Whoever caught the Pritor and chained it to this bridge had done him a huge favour. All he had to do was to slice its head off while being wary of only the bladed tails.
As he got close to the Pritor, he sidestepped to dodge the claws of the cat, and then swung down his claymore in a huge overhead arc. His eyes gleamed as his mouth curled into a smile. What luck. Not only could they reach back to the city in time, they had also managed to complete their assignment by coincidence.
“Clang!!”
A loud clash resounded, muffled by the roar of the waterfall. Victor was stunned. His hands were still shaking from the impact as he watched his claymore drop into the shallow end of the river. He had seen it, but could not react in time. Just moments before the sword made contact with the neck of the cat, a forging hammer had appeared out of nowhere and clashed with the blade accurately, knocking the sword out of his hands and leaving the cat safe.
Seeing the attacker disarmed, the Pritor took the opportunity to swing its tails at him once more, only to miss as Victor reacted in time to dodge and leap backwards, creating a safe distance between the 2. He looked up and saw, on the brightly lit bridge was a man in a cloak. The man was much taller than him, and was slowly making his way towards both him and the cat.
He did not have the time to retrieve his claymore, so Victor retreated to where his party stood, drawing a secondary short sword from his waist. Poised and ready to attack, he raised the sword towards the cat and the stranger. With a single flick of his wrist, he signalled for Nortrem to attack.
Nortrem had already put Kiria down safely behind him, his crossbow already locked and loaded. With the stranger dead in his sights, he fired off a single steel bolt which spun in the air as it pierced through the sprays of water from the waterfall, towards the stranger’s arm. His intention was not to kill the man, but simply to render him unable to attack.
Another metallic clash rang out once more as the bolt penetrated the brown cloak, only to bounce off the man’s arm and drop down into the water. Nortrem clicked his tongue, annoyed that he had not anticipated the man to be protected by armour. Once more, he fired a second bolt which landed at exactly the same impact point as the first, hoping that multiple shots to the same point would quickly compromise the integrity of the armour. A third, and then a forth. All shots landing at precisely the same location on the stranger’s arm with pinpoint accuracy, only to be deflected into the river.
Seeing Nortrem’s bolts do absolutely no damage to the tall stranger, Victor became worried. He had just tried to kill the Pritor that was clearly captured by the man, and then attacked him without any warning. Given how powerful he must be to handle the Pritor alive, Victor could only sweat within his armour.
The cloaked man walked past the Pritor which was still trying to undo the chains to get to Victor. Then, he took out what looked like a glass bottle with water inside and pointed it at the animal, before squirting a few soft jets of cold water in its face.
“Bad kitty,” he said, as he squirted a few more shots of cold water, which caused the Pritor to flinch backwards, shaking its head and then using its paws to remove the water. The man then crouched down and patted the Pritor like it was domesticated cat, stroking its black fur from its head, down its neck and stopping between the shoulder blades. “Stay,” he ordered, before standing back up to look at Victor.
“Look. I apologise about attacking you earlier. Clearly there was no damage done so why don’t we call it even with this?” Victor called out, tossing a sack of coins onto the ground in front of Harvey. This man had tamed the wild Pritor, which just goes to show his capabilities. Right now, the most important thing was to keep his team from sustaining more injuries and to get to the city as quickly as possible. He knew he had been greedy, trying to kill the Pritor, and he was willing to fork out some cash, if it means he gets to save his teammate.
“Your friend seems hurt. She’s running a fever,” Harvey pointed at Kiria who was laid down on the gravel. “Bring her in, I’ll treat her.” Harvey said, before turning around and heading back towards the cabin on the river.
Confused, Victor looked warily at the stranger, and then the Pritor, before turning to face his party. They too did not know what to do, and were looking to him to make the decision. Somehow or other, the man was able to discern that Kiria had a high temperature, even without touching her. For some reason, this man seemed intent on treating injuries, be it human or beast.
Deciding to take a risk, Victor sheathed his sword and then nodded firmly. As his team kept their weapons and carried Kiria to the log cabin on the river, Victor proceeded into the water to retrieve his claymore. The Pritor that had been wiping its face turned towards them and growled, but did not get up from its position. Very quickly, they crossed the bridge and stood in front of the entrance to the cabin, slightly surprised that the glass doors slid open automatically as they approached.