The morning sun shone bright in James's eyes as he drove into the decrepit town of Bricklelake. The roar of his truck glided across the surroundings, hitting empty houses and dusty roads. The townsfolk stared as he passed by, taking a break from their daily lives. He didn't blame them. This town probably saw visitors once or twice a year. Bricklelake was old, decrepit, and well past its prime. In its golden years it was a prosperous mining town, home to the hopes and dreams of pioneers that were now long dead. All that remained of its glory days were the mouldy and failing houses that couldn't even be given away.
James’s stomach churned at the thought of spending the next few weeks here. His business opportunity this time was lucrative but if it was up to him, he wouldn't touch the place with a fifty-foot pole. He sighed as a child walked near his truck while holding a dog on its leash. James cursed as the kid and her pet got close enough to his vehicle that he nearly clipped them. The kid didn't look the least bit scared. There was no sense of danger here, and none of the anger he'd grown used to while visiting small towns across the country.
He took a turn on the dusty road and soon found himself in the middle of Bricklelake’s plaza. The second thing he needed was a hotel to stay in. The first thing he needed was coffee. There was a single cafe smack dab in the middle of the town. It stood next to the only hotel in the area, a faded sign displaying its name proudly. Bricklecafe.
"Not very original." James parked his truck outside of the cafe and swung the door open roughly. He'd stopped being gentle with the vehicle after the first ten years.
His footsteps echoed out into the surroundings, the empty buildings lending them a hand. It looked like he had been the first one to hear about the bounty this place was sitting on top of. An animal had been sighted in the area recently, a rare kind of reptile colloquially known as the star-tailed lizard. In his line of work this kind of animal was called a ‘mega’, which was short for mega rare. It was also short for mega rich because that's what the first person to find them would become.
There were rumours that a single bite of a cooked star-tailed lizard could heal all wounds and injuries. Others said they had aged backwards after consuming water boiled with their skin. He didn't care why people wanted the lizards. One had been sighted near this town and that was all he needed to hear to drive here. The companies he sold them to would probably grind them into pills for the rich to eat next to their meals. What he cared about was the money those companies were willing to pay him for the lizards.
James pushed open the wooden panels that acted as doors for the cafe. The entrance was a genuine relic of the old bars seen in western movies, two panels that flapped open at a touch. If it wasn't for the vibrant forest outside the town, he'd swear he was walking into a desert saloon. Standing behind the cafe’s bar was an elderly man in flannel. He stared at James and James shot him a cocky grin.
"Got coffee? Black." James asked to start the conversation. He had been driving for hours to reach this place. After a while even his GPS had given out. If they didn't have coffee, then he'd consider quitting his trip here and now.
"Depends." The man shifted around and placed his hand on a coffee machine. James could see that the man was more bored than curious. “What do you do?”
James paused. This was a question he expected, but he didn't know how the locals felt about his occupation. “Animal wrangling.”
“So you're a poacher?” The man nodded his head. “Ten dollars.”
"You must be dreaming." James shook his head. "And no, I'm not a poacher. That's a common mistake.”
“What's the difference?” The man asked.
“I'm legal.” James pursed his lips. This wasn't the first time he'd been mistaken for a poacher. At least this person hadn't brought out a gun. Poachers took animals illegally and without licenses. James had to go through the mind-numbing process of getting permits and paying for them.
The conversation died with his words, but the price of the coffee lowered tremendously. James took a seat by the bar and thought over his plans. The act of catching a mega was simple. Find their home and wait. It was the act of finding where the creature lived that was hard. It was still morning, and he would leave the town to explore the surrounding forest for the rest of the day. He'd need a few hours to get the lay of the land and figure out the different trees and flora that inhabited the area. He was on the lookout for berries and damp areas where insects gathered. Both were the kinds of food lizards liked to feast on.
"So, I take it you're here about the lizard.” The man’s voice drifted into James’s ears. “Or is it something else you're after?”
"Is there something else that might interest me?" James eyes the man. Talking to the locals was always a gamble. Some of them would smash his head in the moment he turned his back to them just because of his occupation. Others were only curious because they thought they could rob him of his prize.
“I’ve heard that something’s been watching people from the shadows. And things have gone missing. Cattle. Dogs.” The man stared at James. “A poacher that goes into those woods might not come back out.”
“Is that a threat?” James glared right back at the man. He'd heard and seen all. From knives being waved in his face to people trying to shoot him from afar. A man that spent his days wasting away behind a bar in a dead cafe didn't scare him.
“Just a local legend.” The man’s lips tugged into a grin. “Be careful out there.”
The man bringing out the coffee was a welcome shift in the conversation. Namely, it killed it. James didn't make friends in these places. After he found his prize he would drive off to a new location. The morning sunlight rested comfortable on top of him through the windows and James took his time to drain the coffee. There was still something else he had to do.
"Do you have any flour?” James motioned toward the door leading to the kitchen.
"Do you have money?” The man replied.
A few minutes and a lighter wallet later, James was staring at a small bar of flour. It was hand-packaged, and he was sure that the man had made it himself. He was also sure that he had gotten ripped off. It didn't matter. He would use the flour to make some quick rations that would give him a boost of energy while in the forest. It wasn't a tough process and it always helped him concentrate during the long hours of forest trekking. The first few days would be dedicated to finding the star-tailed lizards. After he found them, he would need to come back to the town to rest. The next days after that would be dedicated to setting traps.
“Got a bathroom?” James stood up and prepared to leave.
“Out back.” The man grunted.
James followed the man’s directions and found himself staring at an outhouse extension that had been sloppily nailed into the back of the cafe. Inside was something that scared him more than the threats he received on a regular basis. The walls were lined with old cobwebs, and several types of bugs had made nests inside. The toilet itself was rusted over, and he wasn't sure how that was possible. They must've made the thing out of metal back when the original pioneers had inhabited the place.
"Yeah." James closed the door behind him. "I hate this place.”
****
James's footsteps echoed across the forest, accompanied by grunts of annoyance and pain. His day had been spent wading through a forest and being attacked by the local wildlife from morning to afternoon. He'd driven twenty minutes past the town and further into the middle of nowhere to look for the endangered star-tailed lizard. Endangered his ass, they were nipping on his heels the whole journey. One of them had even gotten his shoe off after a vicious tug-of-war. Now he was wandering the vast expanse with a slightly soggy sock.
Finding the star-tailed lizards in abundance was a blessing and a curse. Once he got back to town and started setting up his traps he'd be on a time limit. He needed to be the first to capture the lizards and sell them while they were still considered rare. Common animals didn't sell for as much as rare ones. The lizards were so common that he had almost stepped on a few by accident and if any other competitors came and stole his limelight then he'd be screwed.
"Where the hell did my truck go?” James spoke. His attention had wavered after losing his shoe and he’d lost his way. He swore his vehicle had been right here.
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Even the vegetation looked different. The ferns and bushes were replaced with scraggly vines with blood red leaves and trees that glinted gold in the afternoon sun. He pushed a branch aside and sighed in relief as a clearing appeared. There were signs of the area being used as a campsite.
"Is anyone here?" He shouted. His voice echoed across the clearing, bouncing off the trees. They jiggled in response, but he couldn't see any other movement.
In the middle of the empty space lay an unlit fireplace, white ash and burnt wood resting within. James spotted another peculiarity. There was a single rock that rested next to the fireplace. A seat. Somebody had been here and judging from the smouldering ashes it had been a recent visit.
James sighed. He wasn't the only one going after the lizards. Poachers were common, but he couldn't be picky when he was lost. The people that went after lizards weren't the ones that carried guns. He tapped his one shoe against the stone as he sat down and thought about his next move.
Staying in the forest overnight wasn't going to be a problem. He knew all of the safe plants to eat, and he wasn't afraid of a few bugs biting him. He reached into his pocket and brought out a bar of rations. Tough and chewy. It wasn't the most luxurious meal, but he could fit a lot of them in his coat and they gave him the energy he needed to chase lizards all day.
There was a snap from behind him. It sounded like a twig had been broken, or a dry leaf shattered. He turned around to see the cause of sound—
Crack.
A sharp pain wracked James’s head and he cried out loud. His legs crumpled to the ground as pain, nausea and dizziness overtook him. Two scraggly legs appeared in his vision. Standing over him was the ugliest man he had ever seen. Two large canines grew grotesquely out of the man's mouth and over his lips. The ugly man was also the reddest person James had ever seen.
He heard a grunt and his assailant knelt down and picked up his leg, not paying any attention to James as he groaned in pain. James could feel his back dragging against the grass, twigs pushing against his skin as he was moved through the clearing like a doll in a child’s hands. The man that had assaulted him was skinnier than James, but despite his weaker frame his iron grip clasped tightly onto James’s ankle. James vaguely felt the contrast between what the man should be able to do physically and what he was doing. Nobody that size should be able to drag him like this so easily. It was strange.
Even stranger was a string of floating words in front of his eyes.
[You have suffered a critical hit from a (Khul Scout). You have become disoriented.]
[WARNING: Your health is under 50%]
[Health: 10/100.]
[You have consumed a ration.]
[Health: 20/100]
James blinked in surprise as more and more messages appeared. He must've gotten hit in the head harder than he'd realised. He raised his hand limply to scatter the words, but found they disappeared when he focused on them. Then his mind caught up to his situation and he frowned. This wasn't right. He could feel his strength returning to him as the seconds went by. His assailant was already out of the clearing and passing through the dense forest. James's head bumped against the roots of the passing trees, each one causing pain to shoot through him.
[You have consumed a ration.]
[Health: 30/100]
Despite the constant injuries, there was something making him feel better. There was a warm flow of energy from within his mouth, a single chunk of material resting inside. It was his ration. He'd taken a large bite of it before he'd been hit, letting it rest in his mouth to soften with his saliva. Now it was falling into his throat piece by piece as he was moved, giving him the boost, he needed to stay conscious and gather his focus.
[You have consumed a ration.]
[Health: 40/100]
[You are no longer disoriented.]
He blinked in surprise as his head cleared up. The pain was still there, but his thoughts no longer felt like they were wading through a fog. His first thought was that the words he was seeing were real. He didn't know how or why they had appeared, but they were describing his situation perfectly. It was like reading a blow-by-blow description of his situation. With a single thought he willed the words to go away and found that they obeyed his command, disappearing into nothingness and leaving him with a clear view of his situation.
The man had a firm grip on James's ankle, but he was paying more attention to the trees in front of him than to James himself. James narrowed his eyes as his head smacked into another root. The attacker hadn't bothered to search him, but he could see why. In the assailant’s other hand was a large club with blood dripping off the tip. It looked like the club had caused an injury that could only be fixed by a team of doctors at a hospital and months of recovery.
James bit his lip as the situation became clear. There were two things he needed to get. Another ration and a weapon. He had both in his coat, but he wasn't sure how sneaky he could be even with the man's attention elsewhere. Another root struck his head, and he made his decision. He didn't want to find out where this person was taking him. He slid his fingers over his coat carefully, making sure not to make any sudden movements that would alert the man to his actions. Thankfully, his assailant was looking forward intensely, only glancing to his sides occasionally.
The cool sensation of rubber pressed against his fingers as he slid his hand into one of his coat pockets. It was the hilt of his pocketknife. Its sheath was made out of synthetic leather, and he opened it with practiced movements. The knife wasn't the sharpest in the world, but it was still a knife. James felt a flood of relief as he brought it out of his pocket and quickly brought it toward his side. He kept it at a slight distance, tucked under his palm, just in case his kidnapper looked back.
With his other hand James grabbed at the ground, hoping to grasp a rock or other object to throw at his kidnapper. It was impossible for him to get a proper hold to position himself in a way that would let him stab his attacker. He needed the other man to stop moving him. His skin scraped against the forest floor as he let his hand go limp until it found its grip on something harder than the dirt around it. To his surprise it wasn't a rock. It was a root. His grip on the immovable object made his body stiffen and the man carrying him paused. James was torn at both ends as his grip struggled against the man’s grasp, but he didn't let go. Instead, his assailant stopped at the sudden resistance, grunting in annoyance.
James immediately kicked his free foot against the ground, digging his toes into the dirt. He used the momentum to twist his other leg as quickly as he could. The man grunted in surprise as James freed himself, falling back with the force of his own movements.
The ground greeted James’s head as his cheek smacked into it, but he pushed himself up before his opponent could react. The knife rose in front of him, and his eyes widened as he saw a club flying towards his head. He ducked to the right and there was a bang as the club flew past and hit a nearby tree. It sounded like a gunshot and a crashing shatter resounding through the trees.
A shiver went down his spine at the thought of that club hitting him, but he shook his head and gritted his teeth. His opponent was disarmed now, and he looked at his hands in confusion. James took the opportunity to stab his knife at the man’s eyes, aiming for the easiest target. The black blade dug into flesh and his opponent wailed in pain. He twisted the knife and took it out, a pop following his movement as flesh gripped onto the gaps between the serrated segment of the blade and was pulled out of the socket.
There was a sharp pain in his side as his opponent’s arm flailed into him. It felt like a truck had crashed into his ribs, but instead of giving his ground he took a step forward and stabbed his knife into the man's throat. This time the knife jammed. It stuck into the man's throat after opening a gaping wound. A stray punch smashed into his stomach and James was sent back several steps by the force of it. He groaned and fell to his knees but saw his opponent doing the same. The enemy was grasping at their throat, pulling the knife out and then trying to hold back the spurt of blood that shot out with the metal. James knew he had hit an artery.
A few minutes later he was strong enough to move again, his stomach nauseous and aching but not debilitating. His opponent had stopped moving altogether, blood pooling underneath the man’s clothes. James moved toward the body cautiously. The person had attacked him twice now and he wasn't going to show his back to an enemy. He definitely wasn't going to assume the person was dead. He didn't know how the man had thrown the club so far or punched so strongly but getting hit in the back by a stray thrown rock could turn the fight around.
The body didn't move as he walked around it, examining it for signs of life. James kicked the body onto its back and gazed at the face of the person that had tried to kill him. One thing was clear.
He'd just killed a man with a terrible skin condition.
The man’s red skin was the colour of unhealthy autumn leaves splashed with blood, and was mottled and leathery. It also had just enough scabs that it looked like it could be a topographical map. There were no signs of health on this man’s body, his arms skinny and his muscles non-existent. The person was also a lot shorter than he'd imagined. The view from the forest floor had made his opponent look taller than he was.
"How were you so strong?” He muttered. There was no logic behind the man's power. James was built enough to withstand it, but he was at least double the man’s size both in stature and height.
Before he could figure out an answer to his question his vision was flooded with words.
[You have slain Rapscaly, a level 4 Khul scout.]
[Congratulations! You have leveled up.]
[You are now level 2.]
[You have gained free stat points. Access your status screen to distribute your stat points.]
James blinked in surprise. He’d forgotten the strange words in the heat of the moment. Now that they were right in front of him again, he could see they were real. His eyes narrowed and instead of dismissing the words he kept them in his view, leaning against a nearby tree as he recovered from the fight.
“Status screen?” The term caught his eye. Unlike the other words it was something he vaguely recognised.
The moment he spoke his vision flooded with a new set of words.
James Andross
Level: 2
Title: N/A
Class: N/A
Race: Undetermined (Progress: 0.1%)
Spirit Rank: Unranked
Health: 31/100
Mana: 100/100
Stats:
Vitality: 10
Strength: 13
Intelligence: 10
Wisdom: 11
Free Stat Points: 2
Pillars:
Pillar 1: Unearned.
Pillar 2: Unearned.
Pillar 3: Unearned.
Skills:
None.
“What the heck is this?”