Ethan trembled, despite the warmth of the fire and the fact that he was now mostly dry. He felt an icy chill that seemed to permeate his very bones. A sharp pang shot through him as he became acutely aware of the arrowhead lodged deep in his shoulder, blood slowly trickling down his arm. With no other viable options, he knew he had to extract the arrowhead and staunch the bleeding. Desperation fueled his thoughts as he recalled an ancient practice he had learned about long ago—cauterizing wounds.
His mind drifted back to a time when people resorted to similar methods to save lives in dire situations. Cauterization, from a logical standpoint, served as a vital technique to prevent infections and halt bleeding when medical resources were scarce or out of reach.
It took him considerable time to convince himself of the necessity, and even longer to summon the courage to proceed. Though he understood it was a temporary solution, he recognized its crucial role in his current predicament.
Retrieving the carving knife from his bag, he carefully placed the blade into the crackling fire. As the flames embraced the metal, an intense glow emanated from the heated knife.
Gathering his resolve, Ethan firmly gripped the arrow shaft with one hand, bracing himself for the impending agony. With precise and determined movements, he pulled out the arrow in one swift motion.
Suppressing an agonized scream, and before he could chicken out, he swiftly pressed the searing blade against his flesh. The sizzle of burning skin merged with the unrestrained cry that escaped his lips. The pain coursed through him, threatening to overwhelm his senses, but he pushed through, dropping the knife near the fire.
Ethan lay back, breathing heavily, his sole focus on enduring the anguish. Gradually, over time, the pain dulled to a more bearable level, allowing him to regain some semblance of composure.
With the wound cauterized and the bleeding staunched, Ethan knew he had to press on. Despite the throbbing pain in his foot, he believed he could manage to hobble with the aid of the stick. It would be a slow and arduous journey, and at the thought of encountering another monster out there.. Well it was probably safe to say that would be a disaster, so he tried to not think about that. He forced himself to banish such thoughts and instead focused on the task at hand.
Collecting his belongings, he cleaned the carving knife, removing any remnants of skin clinging to the blade, before carefully stowing it back in his pack. He doused the fire with a handful of dirt and struggled to his feet, striving not to put too much weight on his injured leg.
Slowly, with each step a reminder of his agony, Ethan began to follow the river downstream. Time seemed to blur as he walked, the sun's position indicating it was around midday. Of course, that assumption relied on the assumption that the world he found himself in functioned similarly to Earth.
His progress was excruciatingly slow, each movement accompanied by a surge of pain that seemed to beg for respite. But he couldn't afford to stay stagnant. The threat of encountering goblins again loomed heavily in his mind, urging him onward.
That day became a hazy blur of focus and suffering. Every step was an act of endurance, his body pleading for rest while his determination propelled him forward.
When Ethan noticed the fading light, he desperately scanned the surroundings for any sign of shelter, but his search yielded no results. Exhausted and devoid of the energy required to attempt constructing a makeshift refuge, he reluctantly settled for propping himself against a tree. Pulling out the crystal knife and hand axe from his pack, he found a modicum of solace in having them within arm's reach. At least he wouldn't have to search for them if another threat emerged.
Forgoing the luxury of a fire that night, Ethan endured the biting cold and an excruciatingly uncomfortable experience. He forced himself to eat a few morsels of the kebabs and drink some water, fully aware of the necessity to sustain himself. However, he felt neither hunger nor thirst, a disconcerting realization that suggested all was not well.
His slumber was fitful, and before he knew it, the sun had risen once more. Despite the arrival of morning, he grappled with his own body, wrestling with his mind's determined command to rise. The internal struggle was an uphill battle, won only by the sheer determination to survive.
His ankle had swollen considerably overnight, and even the oversized boot felt constricting and tight. He groaned in pain, but mustered the strength to get back on his feet. The path ahead seemed daunting, and he had barely ventured an hour when he detected a sound—a surprising feat considering his blurred and unfocused state of mind. He cautiously set down his pack and gripped the crystal knife and axe, one in each hand.
He refused to go down without a fight, that much was certain. In a moment of inspiration, he directed his gaze to the axe, swiftly etching the rune for 'arcing spark' onto its surface. Keeping a watchful eye on his surroundings, he pressed his finger against the rune. Struggling to maintain focus, he summoned his understanding of electricity, allowing the enchantment to infuse the axe head.
Just as he was nearing completion, another rustling sound reached his ears. With the enchantment now in place, he called out, "Hello!? Show yourself!"
Perhaps it was the sound of his voice that triggered the response, or maybe it was pure coincidence, but something substantial charged at him from the undergrowth. It resembled a large fox, not in its size but in its proportions. Standing as tall as Ethan's hip, it snarled and lunged towards him, its menacing fangs bared.
Caught off guard, he let out a startled yelp, "Activate!" Holding the electrified axe out in front of him, the fox let out a yip as it received a brief shock from the sparkling weapon. The creature circled him, and Ethan struggled to keep it in his line of sight. Suddenly, it sprang into action, catching him off balance as he tried to spin.
The fox slammed into his back, sending both Ethan and the animal crashing to the ground. Pain seared through his shoulder, and Ethan let out a cry of agony. The fox attempted to sink its teeth into the back of his neck, but he managed to shield himself with his arms, inadvertently bringing the axe head into contact with the fox's body, which in turn connected with his own.
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Electricity surged through them both, unleashing waves of pain and panic that coursed through Ethan's body. He felt himself seize up completely, but after a few agonizing moments, he mustered the strength to terminate the enchantment. His body relaxed all at once, and the fox collapsed on top of him.
Rolling aside, Ethan managed to push the stunned fox off him, and as soon as he was clear, he swung the axe with a fierce shout, "ACTIVATE!"
Notice:
Rewards
You have killed a Crimson fox
3 Essence points (EP)
Ethan settled down beside the lifeless Crimson fox, his axe still lodged in its side. He panted heavily, his body adjusting to the pain of fresh wounds. The armor on his back had absorbed most of the impact, but he had acquired deep scratches on his arms, the back of his legs, and he could feel tender bruises beneath the protective layers.
In that moment, the overwhelming pain threatened to bring tears to his eyes. He yearned for respite, oblivious to his location, his destination, and the distance he still had to cover. It felt... impossible. The prospect of infection in his wounds loomed ominously, the likelihood of such an outcome distressingly high. The slow, agonizing descent into death held no appeal for him.
Every young boy who had watched "Lord of the Rings" harbored that desire afterward—the longing to embark on their own adventure. Humans had constructed sports, games, and various forms of escapism, all fueled by this need to break free from the shackles of mundane everyday life.
But Ethan had never shared in that sentiment. He had never yearned for exploration or craved adventure. He had been content studying the world through the lens of television, books, and the internet. Now, thrust into this unwanted odyssey, he felt nothing but irritation.
He scowled at the dead fox, his frustration manifesting in an uncharacteristic act of slapping its head. Suddenly, a voice interrupted his thoughts. Ethan stiffened, looking up to find a man standing before him. Clad in leather and furs, a bow unstrung on his back, a visible frown beneath his hood, and a substantial, bristly dark gray beard, the man fixed his gaze upon Ethan.
[https://i.imgur.com/jnqgswx.jpg]
Ethan gawked at the unexpected visitor, so taken aback that he hadn't caught the man's initial words. "Uh... Can you repeat that?" he managed to say.
The man tsked, "I said, I think it is dead."
Ethan glanced at the fox, then back at the man. "Yes, that's quite obvious," he replied.
A prolonged silence ensued as they locked eyes. Finally, in his rough, gravelly voice, the man spoke again, "What in all the gods' names are you wearing?"
Ethan glanced down at himself and shrugged, "Armor. Chitin armor, to be exact."
The man groaned, "I'm not blind... What I meant was, 'Why' are you wearing chitin armor? Where did you manage to find something like that? And why are you wearing anything else on top of it?"
Ethan blushed slightly, "I didn't exactly have many options, and I made the armor myself. It was a matter of necessity rather than fashion."
The man whistled softly, "Impressive. And the axe... Did I see a lightning enchantment on it?"
Ethan had been wary of the man from the moment he appeared, and the barrage of questions only heightened his unease. "Perhaps... By the way, who are you, and why are you so interested?"
The man shrugged, "Enchanted items are a rarity in these parts, so I was just surprised, that's all. I could use an axe like that. Oh, and the name's Bolg."
Ethan frowned at the man, skepticism etched on his face. "So, Bolg, are you planning on taking it from me then?"
A grin emerged from behind the man's grizzled beard. "You're a suspicious one, aren't you? But yeah, I was planning on taking it."
Letting out a long sigh, Ethan relented, "Look, as you can probably see, I'm not in the best shape right now. What if I just give it to you, and in return, you bring me to a place where I can get some medical help?"
The man's grin widened, "A trade, then? I'm not entirely sure what 'medical' means, but I'm guessing you're referring to healing?"
Ethan chastised himself inwardly. Of course, the man wouldn't be familiar with that word; he needed to exercise caution. "Yes, healing. I need healing, and you can have the axe in exchange for such assistance."
Bolg pondered for a moment before speaking, "And the armor?"
Ethan rolled his eyes. "Fine, the armor too. But you must ensure my safe passage."
The man grinned once more, then spat into his hand and extended it toward Ethan. "Deal."
Reluctantly, Ethan clasped the man's hand, and as their palms met, a screen materialized before them.
Notice:
Rewards
On failure or abandonment
You have offered a quest to Bolg
Bolg must make sure Ethan is healed back to normal
Enchanted hand axe
Rudimentary chitin armor
Bolg is penalized 10 SP
Notice:
Rewards
On failure or abandonment
Bolg has accepted your quest.
Bolg must make sure Ethan is healed back to normal
Enchanted hand axe
Rudimentary chitin armor
Bolg is penalized 10 SP
Ethan's eyes widened, and with another exasperated sigh, he muttered to himself, "Of course, this world has quests." Bolg simply maintained his broad grin, seemingly delighted by Ethan's Reaction.