Brendan found himself in a misty, green valley with tall grass filling the area. There was what might generously be called a path heading further down the valley. Behind him was a small cave, much too short to allow him to exit from it. It would be more fair to call it a hole in the ground, but the back was lost in shadow. High, sheer cliffs extended up from the sides and to his rear, only allowing him to travel in one direction. The valley was absent of trees, and it curved around to the left up ahead. The mist was thicker down there. Boulders were scattered throughout it. Ahead of him was a familiar looking column with a stone orb on it.
Looking around and seeing no reason to rush, Brendan sat on a boulder off to the side and finished the ration pack, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his black fur. It was a hard biscuit, a dried sausage and some cheese wrapped in cheesecloth. He had the feeling that he would not be given the chance for much rest very shortly.
All too soon the pack was empty and Brendan looked around for somewhere to dispose of the cheesecloth. He shook his head, it wasn’t like there was going to suddenly be a garbage can next to him, but the idea of littering didn’t sit well with him. The idea of carrying garbage who knows how far didn’t appeal either though. In the end, he crumbled the cheesecloth up and placed it in his pack. If he were regretting carrying less then a pound, then he would be in so much trouble he would have other things to worry about.
With the meal out of the way, the last of the pain in his mouth faded as well.
“The Trolls Tongue,” he muttered to himself and shuddered at the memory. Seeing the column, he went over and placed his hand on it and information flooded his brain again.
Name
Brendan McAngus
Effective Age
22
Actual Age
22
Prowess
52
(98)
34
Grace
33
(16)
12
Endurance
41
(87)
40
Charisma
34
05
Wit
17
10
Confidence
32
31
Intelligence
23
07
Perception
32
14
Arcana
10
01
Spent
1/10
Class
Lineage
Level
0
Current
2
Next
300
Minotaur (Uncommon)
Skill:
----
0
00
Skill:
----
0
00
Ability:
Healing Feast (Troll)
0
01
Test Endurance to Heal Injury whilst eating | Heal equals the Roll | Cost: 1 Arcana
Feature:
Brutal Physique
Add Half Base Prowess and Endurance to Effective Prowess and Endurance. Subtract Half Base Grace from Effective Grace.
Skill:
Willpower
0
01
Skill:
----
0
00
He had gained 2 current, whatever that was. He had also gained a skill called Willpower and gained 1 in Healing Feast, which had gained Troll as a subsection. Given that he had a one beside his ability and a 1 beside Willpower, that must be the 2. Question was why was willpower greyed out and underneath and not at the top. At least it looked like he could learn as many skills as he wanted, what with the new slot under Willpower.
Brendan shook his head, feeling the weight of his horns added gravity to the gesture. He would just have to wait and ask someone later.
There was a whole wall of text there and not all of it made a lot of sense. Effective Age vs Actual Age? Well, the Body Shop Ogre had mentioned people selling and buying years, that would probably explain that.
Prowess, Grace, and Endurance had three numbers rather than two, so the middle numbers must be the Effective versions, whatever Effective meant. Brendan couldn’t remember if any of the numbers had changed. He would have to write it down and compare later. 30 seemed to be about the average stat, which didn’t speak well to his Intelligence, Wit, or Arcana.
Wait, Arcana, as in magic?
Brendan smacked his forehead, of course magic exists. What else could explain all this shit, other than a really bad drunk dream. Brendan couldn’t imagine feeling the pain from his tongue getting ripped out in a dream though, so magic? That seemed like a bit of a leap.
He looked around the valley he was in. One exit and his hunger had felt real enough. He only had so much food, although he did have a rifle, so hunting was an option. He pulled open his pack to get at his ammunition and bandolier. All 30 rounds fit into the wide sash of white leather and Brendan threw it over his shoulder, and got it caught on his horns. With a bit of struggle he managed to get it seated. He could see the horns being a pain in his ass in the future.
Brendan practiced loading and unloading the rifle a few times, just to be safe. It wasn’t the easiest thing to do with his thick finger and the 3 cm claws that tipped them, but he managed. If anything got too close he would just have to hit them with the butt of his rifle. Out of curiosity, he placed his hand on the orb again.
Name
Brendan McAngus
Effective Age
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22
Actual Age
22
Prowess
52
(98)
34
Grace
33
(17)
12
Toughness
41
(87)
40
Charisma
34
05
Wit
17
10
Confidence
32
31
Intelligence
23
07
Perception
32
14
Arcana
10
01
Spent
1/10
Class
Lineage
Level
0
Current
2
Next
300
Minotaur (Uncommon)
Skill:
----
0
00
Skill:
----
0
00
Ability:
Healing Feast (Troll)
0
01
Test Toughness to Heal Injury whilst eating | Heal equals the Roll | Cost: 1 Arcana
Feature:
Brutal Physique
Add Half Base Prowess and Toughness to Effective Prowess and Toughness. Subtract Half Base Grace from Effective Grace.
Skill:
Willpower
0
01
Skill:
----
0
00
No riflery skill or firearm skill or whatever. Brendan was tempted for a moment to shoot at a boulder down the valley from him, but with only 30 rounds, he decided to conserve his ammo. He did bring the rifle to his shoulder and practised aiming down the rifle. His finger barely fit inside the trigger guard and so he ended up pulling the trigger with one of his claws, which was uncomfortable to say the least. The trigger guard was held in place with three screws, but unfortunately screwdrivers weren’t a thing that Darren issued him. He’d have to make due and modify it once he got to the “fort”.
Speaking of which, daylight was slowly burning and he had only one path. Hefting his heavy pack onto his back, Brendan did his waist and chest straps up, thankful for the few backpacking trips he went on with his uncles, and then jumped a few times to make sure everything was settled. Jumping with hooves was interesting and Brendan stumbled at first, but the pack didn’t move.
With the pack on his back, Brendan began his walk down the valley, rifle in hand. Going was slow and Brendan slipped a number of times. His hooves dug into the soft dirt fine, but every time his hoof found a flat rock, his leg would shoot out from under him. After the fifth time Brendan ended up on his ass, he started to carry the rifle like a walking stick, using the butt to brace himself. He didn’t know much about guns, but he knew not to stick the muzzle into the dirt.
Moving down the valley, Brendan found himself enveloped in the mist, which had turned more into a fog. The sun's glow was clearly visible and Brenda could just barely make out the walls of the valley. Still no trees, or bushes though, just the moderately long grass. In the center of the valley, a spring bubbled out of the ground and Brendan bent down to taste it. The water was warm and tasted slightly of Sulphur, and he spat the water out again.
“Must be some volcanism in the area,” he muttered to himself and wiped his hand on the fur of his leg as he stood. He stretched his hand up to about where he thought the edge of the valley should be. The sun had drifted away from the edge of the valley by about a hand. Brendan continued down the path until a steam crossed it. The water was cool and sweet, and Brendan drank deeply from it. He did fill his canteen, something Darren had neglected to do, and took off again feeling slightly refreshed. Even though he had been walking for about an hour, he didn’t yet feel the need for a break.
Streams became a lot more common after that, and they slowly gathered in the one that sprang up from the middle of the valley, forming a slow river moving over smooth stones. Most of those streams arose from other volcanic springs, but a few seemed to come down from the valley’s cliff edge and those were the ones that bore the clean tasting water.
Moss grew on the rocks to the sides of the river and it wasn’t long until the first bullrushes began to appear. With the bulrushes came the sounds of croaking frogs and buzzing insects and the unnatural silence that Brendan hadn’t even noticed was broken.
The sun had reached directly overhead by the time Brendan stopped for a break. His black fur was covered with mud up to his knees and he had matts of it on his butt and elbows as well. The river here was deep enough to enter, so Brendan decided to drop his ruck and pull out a ration. He ate it quickly, not realising quite how hungry he was and pulled out a second. He only just managed to stop himself from reaching for a third, figuring he might need to ration his food. Darren had said that food would be hard to come by.
After that, he shucked off his briefs and paused before stepping out into the water. This might be a Curse, but in some ways it was definitely a blessing too. Brendan had never been a small man, but he couldn’t complain about this part of his new body too much. He was about to reach down and check for himself, but then a large bullfrog croaked and he remembered that while he was alone out here, that didn’t mean that he had privacy. He stepped out into the water hurriedly.
It had lost some of its warmth, either to travelling over the rocks to get here or from joining with the cooler streams and it felt nice after his half day’s travel. The current was weak, and it took some scrubbing with sand from the bottom of the river, but Brendan got most of the mud out of his fur.
He sighed as he sat in the water and then lay back, letting the cool water slowly wash the pain out of his back. At least he didn’t have to worry about hot spots on his feet.
Brendan drifted, losing track of time until there was a change in the environment. A new sound entered the medley of gurgling water, amphibians, and insects. Rocks clattered against each other and someone gave voice to soft curses with a lilting accent. Maybe Irish?
Brendan sat up from the river and looked about, water streaming down his fur, and he caught sight of the swearer through a gap in the rushes. She was a slight young woman, skinny and pale, made even paler by the black robes with green trim she was wearing. She was struggling in the mud, lying on her side, and Brendan couldn’t help chuckling.
She looked over to him, green eyes, close cropped dark hair and pale thin lips, and let out a little scream, not of panic, but alarm. Her right arm darted into her left sleeve which left her lying flat on her side in the mud again and she pointed a twig at Brendan.
Brendan would have laughed again, if it weren’t for the feeling that someone was pointing a weapon at him. He made sure not to move too quickly as he drifted back to his side of the river and got his hooves under him in a crouch. Between the water and the rushes, at least his modesty was protected. She could probably only see his head and chest.
“Just a bull. Just a stupid fucking cow. Nothing to lose my shit at,” She said to herself in her lilting accent. Definitely Irish.
“Apparently, I’m not the only stupid cow,” Brendan said, the words were out of his mouth before he could think to hold them back, and he felt his eyes widen in shock. He threw himself to the left and the water where he had been exploded as if a fist sized rock had been chucked into the water. Whatever it was winged him though and he felt his movements become even more sluggish.
“Oih, who the fuck are you calling a cow?”
“Yup, that proves the stupid part.”
Brendan didn’t have a chance to dodge this time. It felt like getting smacked by a baseball as the rushes parted and whatever it was landed in his chest. What the fuck was wrong with him?
“Get back here fucker,” she yelled at him, and came tumbling down towards the water’s edge, “I’m going to gut you and turn your fucking hide into a coat!”
Brendan bit his tongue, literally, and pushed himself into the rushes away from where she was searching. He could apparently tank a hit or two from that, but it still hurt.
“Where’s your smartass tongue now, you mangy cow,” She yelled after him, facing the wrong direction, and stormed down into the water past him.
Brendan couldn’t help himself, “In my mouth,” and he stood up behind her. The top of her head was just lower than the bottom of his pecs.
She spun around to the left and Brendan caught her right wrist with his left hand before the twig could be pointed at him. This unfortunately left her left hand free, and with her height it ended up in an unfortunate spot.
“Hey, now,” Brendan shouted for the first time during their confrontation, “Let go of that!” and backpedalled away from her.
His grip on her arm and her grip on him brought her with him when he slipped on the smooth river stones and fell flat on his back. For a second, Brendan’s head went under water and then the water above his head exploded. Brendan sat up through the disturbed water and dragged the woman’s wrist off to the left again and pointed the twig elsewhere. Thankfully she had let go of him and was now on her knees with her right hand gripping the thick fur on his chest for balance.
“Now then,” Brendan asked much more politely, “How about you stop trying to kill me?”
She shifted her weight more to her knees and began to sit back on her heels, but the bare skin of her thigh brushed against something and they both froze. She looked down in shock and Brendan looked down in horror as the soft sensation of her skin warred with the slight chill of the river and won.
She looked back up into his face and loosened her grip on the twig, letting it drop into the rushes.
“You have me monster, right where you want me. Do with me as you will, but know that I will never forgive you,” she said, as if quoting from somewhere.
“Anything, eh?” Brendan purred, and she nodded hesitantly.
Brendan brought his right hand up to her rib cage slowly, and then did the same with his left, and then with a heave using all his strength he threw her over his head and further down the river.
“Cool off!” he shouted back at her, and quickly regained his hooves. The water here came up to his mid thigh and unfortunately the root of the issue remained upright and above the water line, so when she broke the water getting back up it was the first thing she saw. She stared at it for a good long second and for the first time since arriving here, Brendan felt naked.
“My eyes are up here,” he said, and with a start she broke her stare.
“I think we got off on the wrong hoof here, my name is Brendan McAngus, who are you?”
“Sam,” she said as she rose to her full height, the water still above her waist, “Sam Higgins.” Her eyes darted down again, before coming back up.
“Alright, that’s it,” Brendan said and started for his bank, “I’m getting dressed. Nice to meet you, Sam.”
“Wha.?” she squawked, and then shook herself, “Fuck, my wand!”
Brendan turned his head and torso back to face her, but kept his hips pointed elsewhere, “The little twig you had?”
“What else would it bloody be?” Sam started to search about her wildly.
“If I tell you where it is, are you going to shoot me in the back?”
“I would never!”
“You started this all by shooting at me.”
“You started all this by fucking scaring and then you fucking insulted me!”
“You insulted me first!”
“Yeah, when I thought you were just some stupid fucking cow in the river!”
At this point Brendan had spun around and was looming over Sam and she was staring up at him with her fists on her hips.
“See, there ya go with the insults again,” Brendan gestured with his hands towards her and she squeaked and ducked her head. The argument came to a screeching halt.
“Oh my fuck, it’s just a dick. You act like you’ve never seen one before.”
“I haven’t…” the words escaped her mouth, and for a second Brendan’s heart stopped as he recalled the Ogre’s words about adding years. He did not need to be flashing a minor.
“How old are you?”
“What bloody business is it of yours? Besides, you don’t ask a fucking lady such questions!”
“Ladies don’t normally stare at my cock!” Brendan said, leaving aside the swearing.
“Oh,” Sam said with a start, “Do you fuck guys? Is that why you didn’t want…”
“No, I’m not into guys, not that there's anything wrong with that,” Brendan added quickly, “I don’t want to because I barely know you, we’re in the middle of a river, AND YOU TRIED TO KILL ME!!” He was roaring at the end.
“But your cock got hard, doesn’t that mean that guys want to fuck?”
“Just how old are you!?”
“I’m fucking 18, ok? I just don’t have a lot of experience with guys, asshole.”
“Well, you aren’t getting that experience with me,” Brendan said and pointed down the river, “ Your wand is floating away.”
Brendan stormed back up his side of the river as Sam squawked and swore again before racing after her wand.