“Wooooo!” Joseph shouted, eyes wide as he chased down the men on horseback.
He had forgotten how fun it was to chase people down with Betty, crushing them beneath her treads with reckless abandon. That was if they deserved it, of course. Clad in his red and white polka-dot onesie, he stepped on the gas, further terrorizing the horsemen as Betty roared just behind them. Try and chase him would they? This ought to teach em’ a lesson! The temptation to run them down here and now nearly forced the pedal to the floor, but he held back, remembering his earlier caution.
It wasn’t like these guys were punk raiders or scummy slavers anyhow, at least to his knowledge. They were going to try and sacrifice him though, so in that sense Joe was completely justified in killing them all. He could activate the front turrets at any time, set them to ‘fire at moving’ and just let them get to work. He wouldn’t do this, but it could be that easy if he so chose. Prolo’s dad was also likely with that group somewhere, maybe even Prolo himself if he had been forced to come along.
No matter what, killing wasn’t an option right now. He didn’t know the relationship Prolo had with his pa, but killing him could be devastating to the kid. Scaring them off wouldn’t have been his first choice in the wastes, but here in this world it should be fine to leave some survivors. Maybe.
He continued to chase them for about a mile, until all the horsemen had galloped off into the trees and off the trail. After this, he slowed Betty down to a crawl, turning the wheel and pulling off what felt like a sixteen-point turn. It was arduous and miserable, but with how bulky Betty was and the countless trees surrounding her, it was the only option. Especially since he still didn’t want to knock down too many of them. Sure, this world was still vibrant and alive compared to Earth, but destroying nature still didn’t jive with him.
Once he was fully turned around, he began driving in the direction opposite of the Pienturshuld manor, grinning as Betty charged forth, widening the trail as she went. Controlling his death-machine made him feel the purest sense of invulnerability, even more than when he was within his power-armor. Her reinforced treads could crush whatever got in her way, and the steel spikes jutting out of her jaw could puncture nearly anything with Betty’s mass behind them.
Time to get out of these damn woods and out into a field, maybe he could even do some mudding if it rained soon, it’d been eighty years since he’d last done it! So on he went, taking occasional turns to use the wider paths in the trail. It took a few hours to do it, mostly because he kept running into dead-ends, but eventually he managed it, emerging out of the forest and onto a cobble-stone road.
The path split a wide field of grass in half, stretching out all the way to the horizon on either side. He could see no significant landmarks anywhere, but the cameras could be hiding them with pixelation, he supposed. Even if he stepped out to be sure, he had a feeling that there was nothing but long grass as far as the eye could see. He maneuvered Betty to where she was on the left side of the road, not wanting to ruin the cobbles for future travelers. She was just too heavy for the primitive path to handle, displacing the stones and making it uneven.
After a few minutes of driving forward, his eyes became heavy again, and Joseph slowed, turning Betty before he began driving away from the road. He continued like this for about half-an hour, until he was a good distance away before parking. The long grass had been flattened beneath Betty’s bulk, carving a very clear trail to her location. He should be far enough away that he could rest easy… he rubbed at his eyes, standing from the seat.
Even if they did reach Betty before he woke up, she was all but impregnable. Prolo’s pa was hopefully rattled enough by Joe’s chase that he’d just give up, but things never seemed to work that way. When he checked the cameras tomorrow, there better not be a siege waiting for him outside.
And if there was… it would not end well for them.
But enough worrying, it was time to hit the sack. He basically collapsed into the recliner in his living room, kicking it back and near-instantly falling asleep. When he woke up, he felt refreshed and ready to get going. He popped his back, heading into the kitchen to brew the first proper cup of coffee he would have in years. He had one more sealed container of the good stuff left, with a French press ready to use. He had to search nearly every shelf and drawer in his tiny kitchen before he could find the dang thing. Once the grounds had properly infused into the boiled water, he gripped the handle, pressing down on the French press slowly to force all the grounds to the bottom. Before he poured it though, he gasped, scrambling out of the kitchen and through the cockpit door before flicking on the cameras.
He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw no one outside Betty, smacking himself on the back of the head for being so lax. Joe was getting complacent already, he needed to check outside first thing in the morning every day; brewing coffee could come after that! Though, it was closer to midnight, rather than the morning. He had passed out during the day after all. He was so thankful that none of his buddies had been around to see that blunder…
His face became grim as he remembered his old friends, all taken by The End in one form or another, leaving him alone to pilot Betty. There used to be a bunch of sleeping bags on this tacky pink floor, now it was empty. He shook his head, wiping his face as he moved back to the kitchen and his liquid dark savior, eager to distract himself from bitter old memories. The dark coffee served to bring him back to the present, and he smiled, moving over to his recliner to kick back and enjoy the caffeine.
Now, what was on the itinerary today? There were a couple things that needed doing, emptying the septic tank, de-rusting some of his tools, and most importantly, learning Faesh. The book was safe within his rucksack, which he had left in his workshop. He had to learn it quickly if he wanted to have safe interactions with the locals here, and he owed Prolo that favor of copying the tome. That was gonna take a long time, but thankfully for Prolo, Joseph didn’t really have anything going on.
Still, this wasn’t something he’d want to do all day every day, he’d dedicate some time to it here and there, try and get it done before the end of this year. Hmm… speaking of which, what year was this? He couldn’t go by Gregorian years on this planet after all. Once he learned Faesh he’d need to pick up a few more books to read. Historical ones would come first, he needed to blend in as much as possible, and not knowing important events of the past would rat him out as an Outworlder.
He could see it now: “Have you heard of the Bleebening of Blorb?” They would ask.
“Uh, can’t say that I have, sorry pal.” Joe would respond.
“What, how could you not!? Help, guards, this man is an Outworlder!” They would exclaim, pointing at him.
He nodded to himself sagely, that was exactly what would happen. Well, it wasn’t too late to learn about the Bleebening of Blorb, so he’d best get to studying. He retrieved the book from his workshop, seating himself within the cockpit so he’d be able to keep an eye on his cameras.
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“Just think about it, what manner of creature could have left tracks like this?” The halfling, Gerad asked her as they followed the path of flattened grass, “This is no creature, it's some kind of wagon, a big one.”
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“That may be.” Sera replied, “I am still curious to see it with my own eyes.”
“Elves.” Gerad remarked, crossing his arms.
She put a hand to one of her pointed ears, drawing her lips to a line, “What about them?” She asked him before ruffling his head of brown hair.
He snarled and batted her hand away, “I’m not a child Sera! I’m thirty eight!”
It was hard for her to remember that, considering his stature and baby-smooth face. Halflings all looked like human children, at least to her. It wouldn’t be until he reached his sixties that he’d begin to look more like a tiny man, rather than a boy of twelve. In regards to halflings, Gerad was still a teenager… but thirty-eight years was still thirty-eight years, mental age did not always match physical form.
“You’re a child compared to me.” She said with a small shrug, “It's hard for me not to treat you like one.”
“Look, you’re forming a party right?” Gerad asked, adjusting his rucksack, “If you want to keep it together, you gotta respect your members. That wasn’t respecting me at all.”
“Really?” Sera asked, running a hand idly through her long blonde hair, “I didn’t think so.”
“That’s because elves don’t know anything.” Gerad replied flatly.
“Well, now you’re the one being disrespectful.” She said, ruffling his hair once again.
“Gah!” Gerad shouted, “By The Overseer, woman!”
“It is ahead of us now.” She said, narrowing her eyes at the horizon.
“Wait, you can see it? I don’t see a thing…” Gerad said, putting a hand over his brow to block out the morning light.
“I have good eyes.” She said with a grin.
It seemed to be exactly what Gerad had claimed earlier. The thing in the distance was a massive dark block, and while she couldn’t make out any other finer details, she was certain that it was no living thing. What manner of beast could pull a wagon like that? Well, since they were already here, may as well go and investigate. Her curiosity was getting the better of her once more, but by The Overseer she didn’t care.
She wanted to know what that thing was.
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Joseph stared at the cameras, perplexed by the shifting grass outside Betty. He’d made good progress through Craig’s book, and had picked up on some new words, but before he could continue, he had noticed a patch of long grass shifting toward him. There was a good wind out here, but this was no gentle sway, this grass was being split and flattened by something crawling. Was a wild animal creeping around? He supposed that it wasn’t too strange, this was a functioning ecosystem after all…
But what kind of animal was it? Surely any predator wouldn’t think that Betty was prey, unless there were a lot of them. Maybe if it was a massive pack of wolves? No, not even then. Perhaps those two shifting patches of grass were people, not animals. Could they be more of Pienturshuld’s trackers, ready to report back to their lord?
Well, since they were all out in the middle of nowhere, maybe it would be fine to kill them. The gunshot would echo across these plains but Joe would be gone well before anyone would come to investigate. At the same time, the chance of rallying folks against him for slaughtering fellow locals might be worse than simply driving away. Pros of killing these guys were that they wouldn’t report back to Pienturshuld, giving him more time to sit here and learn Faesh. Cons were that he’d turn them into martyrs and turn the whole world against him.
Then again, according to Craig, this world, Faenor as the book claimed, was already against him. Everyone save for Prolo was a potential enemy that wanted to give his giblets to their dark gods. If he killed enough people that tried to kidnap him, maybe they’d eventually just leave him alone. He also needed to acknowledge the fact that these could simply just be curious travelers, trying to find out what cut that trail through the grass.
He decided his course of action right then and there. If they looked like Pienturshuld’s men, he’d just gun them down and be done with it. If they didn’t bear Pienturshuld livery, he’d let them live, but he’d not interact with them. He didn’t speak Faesh fluently yet, and he didn’t want any more folk after him.
For now, he just watched them, moving a finger over to the button that would enable the turrets. The shapes continued to creep through the grass until finally they came to a stop, about twenty paces away from Betty’s teeth. After about five minutes, the two shapes peeked their heads out from their hiding spot, and Joe breathed a sigh of relief.
It was a girl with long hair and some twelve-year-old kid. He doubted that Pienturshuld sent these guys after him. Even if they were from the manor, he couldn’t bring himself to shoot a kid, no matter what. He removed his thumb from the button, but kept an eye on the strangers. He’d still need to drive off if they started knockin’. Hmm… actually…
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“What a sight.” Sera said, eyes wide, “Do you think it can move on its own?”
Gerad squinted, his sharp eyes seeming to try and discern tiny details on the vehicle, “I’d say so. No animal could pull that thing, at least nothing you’d find on a farm.” He remarked, rubbing his chin, “They got things sort of like that in the bigger dwarf holds, takes a lot of steam apparently but that’s all I know. Those stubborn rocks wouldn’t tell me how they worked, but I think this is like that.”
“I’ve heard of those contraptions.” Sera said, “I heard they need hot coals. This one must take a lot to get going.”
“Might be a company of dwarves in there, best thing to do is leave em’ alone Sera.” Gerad said, sinking back down below the grass line, “They don’t like to talk with folk outside their own race on the best of days, and with you here… They might just try and kill us on sight.”
“I believe that even the dwarves would be hesitant to slaughter us without first asking us our business.” She said with a slight nod.
“Yeah.” Gerad said flatly, “They’ll just kill us right after that.”
Sera wagged a finger in front of the halflings face then, “Nuh uh, you know about my special trick, we’d be alright.”
“Joining you was clearly a mistake, do I still have time to back out of the contract?” Gerad asked in a suffering tone, face a grimace.
Sera smiled warmly before replying, “No! You know that.”
She stood then, and approached the massive wagon, intent on finding its entrance. Sera wasn’t intending on breaking in, she merely wanted to sate her curiosity, to meet whoever resided within the contraption. However, before she could get within ten paces, the vehicle… it Screamed at her, and she fell back on her rear, eyes going wide with terror before the massive thing backed away, turning around before fleeing toward the horizon.
Had it advanced to crush her, she would have had to use her special trick. Thankfully it had not been needed. Gerad rushed forward, gently helping her up from the ground while they both kept an eye on the retreating steel wagon.
“That answers that, it moves on its own.” Gerad said shakily, “Now let's head back to the road, we still have to stop by Shian for that quest.”
“Y-yes.” Sera replied, dusting herself off, “If we ever find that thing again… I want to see if there is a way we can interact with its owner, if possible.”
Gerad paled at the words, “Just give it up already woman!” He exclaimed, exasperated, “Whoever or whatever that was, they wanted nothing to do with us. Just leave it be.”
She’d not be able to, even if she wanted it. Her cursed curiosity had peaked, and the desire to learn about the machine had grown nearly unbearable. This pressing need would not be sated until she accomplished this task. It would haunt her dreams if she left it a mystery. She looked down to Gerad, and once again smiled warmly.
“No.” She replied.
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Joseph stared, perplexed that the girl was willingly approaching his death-machine. Maybe he shouldn’t be so shocked, she had no idea that he was able to see her via the cameras. It was hard to tell from the pixelation, but she was a pretty woman, with long pointed ears and wearing garb that was not suited for Autumn weather. She wore a skirt that ended just above the knees, disconnected from her long sleeved tunic that left her midsection totally exposed.
Wearing something like that in the wasteland would have been suicide, but here things were different. It was still strange considering the weather, it wasn’t exactly warm outside, especially since it was still early in the morning. She was apparently an elf, considering the long ears, so maybe cold didn’t affect them that much? Then again, he had known plenty of folk back on Earth that would wear shorts during the winter, compared to that she was dressed appropriately.
Well anyway, he wasn’t going to let her get any closer. He started up Betty, enabling the noisemaker to dissuade further pursuit from these two. He’d done the same thing to Pienturshuld and his boys, making Betty louder than she actually was. Being powered by the mini reactor actually meant that she was relatively quiet when driving. This had been perfectly fine in most cases, but when he needed to scare something off he enabled the noisemaker, which played from a retractable stereo system he’d installed beneath Betty’s hull.
He’d drive for a couple more miles before stopping again, he’d go farther if he thought it was necessary but he really wanted to get back to reading.