Chapter 10
Over the next few days the party continued their travel from Bo’s to the Outpost where they had taken their contracts. They spent the night at the Outpost resting and collecting their reward.
Riakon and Errrkkkk managed to convince the contract attendant that the mission to investigate the missing people was much more dangerous than the contract stated and got a hefty bit of hazard pay on top of the listed amount. With their new found wealth the men enjoyed a night in one of the Outpost’s cozier rooms before setting out towards the port city of Coastall.
After spending the day on the long winding path the men set to making camp for the evening. By now each man knew their assignment, Errrkkkk set to assembling the nest shelter from sticks and available vegetation.
Riakon gathered firewood and got the fire going, all while Roden set his wards around the camp. Roden was in the midst of setting a ward when he heard Riakon’s voice from the trees.
“Gentlemen, come here I have found something you must see.”
Roden returned to the camp proper and noticed Riakon was seated on the ground with a small furry creature nestled in his lap that was gnawing on a piece of dried meat with little success.
“What is that, cacaw?” Errrkkkk said as he drew closer.
“Well while I was out collecting firewood I came across this little guy.” he said while giving the creature a scratch behind its disproportionately large ears.
It was then Roden got a good look at the thing. It was about the size of a small raccoon with large ears that reminded Roden of a fennec fox. Its face was otherwise rounded, with big eyes and a large mouth that nearly split its face in half. Roden had to admit the thing was adorable just as he had written it all those years ago.
This was a creature of his own devising. However, he was not prepared to see it in the flesh, or fur as it were. Its fur was mottled shades of brown with a light patch of whitish gray fur on its belly. With the tiny wings on its back it could’ve passed for one of Stitch’s cousins from that Disney movie.
“I think I am going to keep him.”
“Riakon, you can’t just keep any animal you find, cacaw. Its parents are probably looking for it as we speak cacaw.”
“Yes, about that. It practically ran into my arms when I found it. I tracked its path back through the trees and found what I assume was its mother. She had some pretty big gashes in her. The poor little guy must have watched her die, I couldn’t just leave him there.”
“Okay, but you’re the one taking care of it, cacaw.”
A big toothy grin spread across Riakon’s face as he looked down at his new furry companion who seemed to copy his new friend with a toothy grin of his own.
“Do either of you know what this little guy even is?”
“You know I haven’t seen one, cacaw” Errrkkkk said, giving Riakon a flat look.
Roden struggled internally, his natural inclination was to give a lore dump about everything he wrote for these homebrew creatures. He had come up with these furry gargoyles a decade ago while making a random table for this section of The Wilds.
At the time, he wanted something to rival the Owlbear in lore. Eventually he came up with the Garg.
“I’m pretty sure it’s a Garg. I’d have to see the adult to be positive, but I am pretty sure.” He figured it was less suspicious if he played it cool rather than come right out. After all, no one likes a know-it-all.
“What the hell is a Garg cacaw?”
“Well if I remember correctly, they are essentially furry gargoyles. They were created by some wizard in the War of the Barons. They used them as guards and sentries. That little guy has better vision than all of us. He can see in complete darkness as if it were day and a limited ability to see through illusion magic. Their sense of smell ain’t too bad either.”
“If they were created how’d they get to be in the Wilds cacaw?”
Roden feigned a thoughtful look before continuing,
“Well when they were created they were instilled with a great sense of loyalty. When the War was over, the wizard was gone so any of the remaining Garg had no one to look to for direction. I’m sure some stuck with their handlers, but those who had no connection dispersed. It hasn’t been all that long, only about eighty years or so since then so there isn’t much research on their behaviors.”
“Are they dangerous?” he said as the baby Garg pushed his face into Riakon’s scratches.
Roden hemmed and hawed, “They definitely can be dangerous. That little guy will grow to be about seven feet tall and nothing, but hard muscle. Those wings will let him fly which adds a whole other dimension to their ambush style of attack. The thing that made them particularly deadly during the war was their uncanny ability to learn by mimicking their handler.”
Riakon’s face lit up with unadulterated joy, “You mean, I can teach him to fight!?”
“If you wanted, yeah, you could teach him to fight with you. Given how young he is and that he seems to have latched onto you as his handler. I’d say it’s very likely his “wizard given” instincts kick in.”
Riakon lifted the Garg into the air like a baby. “Do you hear that little buddy? You are going to be a big strong boy. You’re going to rip faces off for sure,” he cooed.
Tandem face palms came from the other party members.
“Just make sure you keep him fed. Garg are prolific carnivores with big appetites and he is a growing boy.”
“Okay Mom, I will take good care of him. C’mon little guy, let’s go get some firewood and see if we can find some dinner too”
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Roden and Errrkkkk glanced at each other and just shook their heads back and forth in an unspoken what-the-fuck moment and went back to their tasks while Riakon set out, the fur ball with teeth close at his heels.
After leaving the Outpost and finding the little Garg, they walked for seven long days before they were able to abandon the trees and finally walk the rolling hills colloquially known as the Green Sea. A name Roden had arrived at when considering it was most likely sailors from the port cities who would have named this area.
Long before the time of the current King and the Dark Times, during the reign of the Lich Orvell, this land was known as Southern Fallown, but Roden had been forced to rewrite his map after that first party failed to stop his Big Bad Evil Guy.
All three men were visibly relieved to be leaving the forest. They were met with a strong cool breeze that carried the scent of the sea deep inland. Roden was beyond flabbergasted how far they had come in a week. If he remembered correctly they had walked over a hundred miles since leaving the Outpost.
While he wouldn’t say it was easy, he had to admit it wasn’t nearly as rough as he would have expected. It made sense when he thought about it. His superhuman constitution made him less susceptible to fatigue and made him recover that much faster. Not one time did he feel any sign of soreness from his muscles.
There hadn’t been much time for training or practicing his spells, but he couldn’t help, but play with the flames in the campfire using his first common spell. He would make them hop about and try to bend them into different shapes before they extinguished from lack of anything to burn.
Sure Roden felt a little childish to use magic to play with fire, but Roden couldn’t pass up the opportunity to flex his new found magic especially in these little moments of down time.
This was something Roden had always found truly fascinating about roleplaying characters in a magic world. He had always played casters with a sense of awe at their magic. His thought was that even people who grew up around magic would still take pride in their use of it, or at least in his mind they should.
Undoubtedly, there would be people in the world who took magic for granted, but Roden made it a point to bask in the feeling of on demand wonder.
Over their travels Roden had practiced casting his other Common spells. His spell Immediate Focus quickly became his favorite to cast on repeat. He found that whenever he needed to do a quick task he could whip that spell out and a sudden and powerful sense of competency would rush over him like the first cup of coffee in the morning, but all at once and at the moment of casting.
In some ways it was an addicting feeling to be so locked in on a task. The other spell was Theoturgy, a common spell for clerics that did random little things, lately all he had used it for was to change the color of the campfire while he played with the flames.
A few hours past midday, the party finally found the river that would lead them all the way to Coastall. With their future path secured, the three men went to work establishing a camp. The sky was clear of clouds and the warmth of spring made a shelter a bit overkill, so they made the plan to lay out their bed rolls and sleep under the stars with a small fire for warmth.
While Roden set his wards and Errrkkkk searched for firewood from the sky, Riakon and the little Garg made their way to the river’s edge to fish. While casting his spell Roden would peer over and see how Riakon was doing. Roden had fished a fair bit in his life. He knew which end of the pole to hold and even had a nice collection of lures for fishing the inland lakes near his home.
On the other hand he knew Riakon had little to no fishing experience having lived in a mountain monastery for all of his life up to a month or so ago. Roden gave him the benefit of the doubt, assuming he at least knew the general idea. His first observations proved true as Riakon had fashioned a pole out of a straight-ish stick. He’d put a line on it with a strand from a scrape of rope and seemed to be working on a hook.
It took about an hour for Roden to finish his wards. Once completed Roden went to see how things were going with Riakon. At this point Riakon had waded knee deep into the river and had his eyes locked on the water as it flowed by at a leisurely pace.
“Aye Riakon?”
“Shhhhh I am trying to concentrate.”
“Right, but…” Roden trailed off as it was clear Riakon was not listening.
Figuring if you can’t beat’em, join’em. Roden tracked down the pole Riakon had been using and set to making a lure to go on the end of the line instead of a hook and dried piece of meat from their rations.
Roden found a piece of driftwood about the size of his thumb and judged it to be the correct size for his idea. He sat down to begin carving his hunk of wood into a more fish-like shape when he remembered to cast Immediate Focus.
With the spell’s boost he mapped out what he wanted to do in his mind and put knife to wood. After a few minutes he had a wooden fish, his spell had inspired him to craft an angled tongue at the head of the lure to hopefully give it the ability to dive under the water as he reeled it in.
He knew it would naturally float which was good, but being able to dive and float gave him more chances at getting a fish.
Every few minutes Roden would have his concentration interrupted by a splash followed by groans of frustration. Riakon was having no luck in his attempts at hand fishing.
The best thing to come from his attempts was the unreasonably adorable moments when the little Garg would try to do the same. He would slap the water with his paw and then stare at it quizzically, unsure if he wanted to tolerate the water on his fur. One thing was certain, the Garg remained on the bank of the river, only getting close enough to dip his paw in and then shuffling back while shaking his paw dry.
With the body of his lure complete Roden’s next task was to secure a substantial hook. In his mind only a treble hook would be worth the effort. By luck he ran across some small bones along the bank of the river and was able to make an abomination of a hook, but a usable abomination nonetheless.
After a few practice casts, Roden put all his effort towards catching a fish. It was quite the novel feeling for Roden to be fishing for his dinner. In his entire life fishing was always just a form of recreation and relaxation.
Everything about fishing was calming to him. He’d cast out, give the line a tug to make his lure dive a little, let it sit, and pull it all the way in when nothing took it. Roden had to give Riakon his credit, he put in the time. Riakon had to have stood in the river for over an hour, when Roden heard a loud splash.
When his eyes locked in on the source he saw Errrkkkk floating in the river up to his neck as he swam towards the bank to pull himself out. Riakon saw this and took it as a challenge. Roden saw this and started laughing.
These two really did remind him of his friends back home. Roden continued to chuckle as Errrkkkk dragged his body up the bank and shook off. The moment of comedy was broken when the pole in Roden’s hand was yanked so hard it nearly fell into the river. Roden cursed as instinct took over and he leaned back while giving the rod a yank of his own to set the hook.
With no reel on his makeshift pole, he grabbed the line and started wrapping it over his hand while attempting to drag his catch to shore. After a few moments of intense struggle he was able to get the thing on the bank. With the fish on the grass beyond the bank Roden was able to let out a sign of relief.
When he approached the fish he recognized it as a Bass, he figured it was most likely a largemouth as it had a dark stripe running across its body. It wasn’t a huge fish, but he figured he could get a couple filets off of it. Roden set the fish aside.
“Aye we got one!”
His outburst was met with grumbles from the other two men who looked to have redoubled their efforts at catching a fish of their own. Roden understood the sentiment and grabbed his pole to try again with the bit of daylight left. Over the next hour, they had some excitement.
Riakon’s patience paid off and he snatched a largemouth bass out of the water with his bare claw. He nearly dropped it back into the water, but managed to secure it by the lip and wade back to shore.
Errrkkkk had by far the toughest time circling above doing his best eagle impression, dive bombing the water and coming up empty each time. Roden pulled in two panfish that fit in his hand. He almost tossed them back out of sheer habit, but caught himself and put them with his other catch.
As the sun got low in the sky, Errrkkkk and Riakon gave up on fishing and turned their attention to cooking up their fish. Roden figured a couple more casts would do it for him too. He was rewarded for his effort with another strong tug signaling he had something.
After a few tense moments of struggle, both Errrkkkk and Riakon rushed over to see what Roden had, it wasn’t until he had the fish on shore were they able to tell that it was another panfish.
“I swear it put up a hell of a fight” Roden said sheepishly.
“It’s cause you’re weak” Riakon and Errrkkkk said simultaneously followed by Errrkkkk’s lone “cacaw.”
With that, Roden gathered up his pole and fish. It was time to get cooking. When the men got back to their makeshift camp Riakon and Errrkkkk began looking around. Roden tensed.
“What’s up guys?”
“My fish is gone. I left it right there.” he gestured toward a flat rock at the edges of their camp. Realization struck all three men at once. Roden and Errrkkkk couldn’t help, but chuckle at their conclusion.
It didn’t take long before Riakon found the little Garg with his face covered in a pink sheen and the remains of Riakon’s fish at his feet and a toothy grin across face. The little guy had eaten the majority of one side of the fish bones and all.
“Can we even be mad cacaw?”
“Probably not, scavenging is in his blood, especially being so young.”
Riakon grabbed what was left of the fish in one hand and scooped up the Garg in the other. He carried both back to his rock and set to cleaning the rest of the fish. He’d toss the undesirable parts to the Garg and when he was done they skewered the fish meat on sticks next to the fire.
Roden used his Common spell to keep the fire from burning the fish while they cooked. Over dinner the conversation drifted back to their new companion.
“Aye Riakon, don’t you think the little guy needs a name cacaw?”
Grabbing the Garg, nestled in his lap, Riakon lifted him into the air like a baby.
“What should be your name, little guy?”
“Grrrokk” the sound was garbled and gravelly in the little non-human’s voice, but unmistakable. The three men sat in silence for a moment.
“Did he just answer you cacaw?”
“They are quite intelligent, ” Roden said, trying to be nonchalant. He already knew the Garg’s name as he was the one who gave it to him, but to watch the situation unfold in front of him was a wild experience.
“Are you saying your name is Grok?”
The furry little creature flapped its little wings and wiggled its whole body in delight.
“Then Grok it is!”