In the inky blackness of the cave, one dark shape slowly maneuvered around unseen obstacles, in a tableau painted by a landscape artist who has run out of all colors but black, yet does not know when to quit. The dark shape itself was not concerned over the lack of light, dear reader, for it was none other than our hero, the Imperial Gun Knight, Rathus McGaff.
He adjusted the spectacles resting on the bridge of his nose. While he did own a few pairs of sunglasses, which helped make bright lights darker, he was now instead wearing a substantially rarer pair of Unglasses, which did exactly the opposite.
Rathus maneuvered around a jagged outcrop of rock, an inverted mirror to the stalactites hanging from the roof of the cave. He had often gotten the two confused, until he learned a helpful mnemonic, that it was “C” for “Ceiling”, and “G” for "Ground". He nodded cordially to the galactite as he passed it, and rounded a corner in the cave.
In his left hand, he held a freshly pulled carrot, granted to him by the villagers in the town of Ankle nee Mount's Ankle. In his right hand, he held a potent magical firearm, the Lead Knuckles, created by the famous Armsmaster house of Bard. He held this at the ready, but pointed safely downwards.
A light flickered in the tunnel ahead, glowing brighter and dimming once more, in a slow rhythm. A wave of warm air washed over Rathus, as he came to a stop. He held still as the light dimmed once more, and a dismissive snort echoed through the chambers. The Gun Knight stepped lightly towards the tunnel, gingerly avoiding the tattered remains of several breadstalks which littered the floor, half-gnawed upon. He stood there for a moment, looking around himself to closely examine the walls, floor, and ceiling of this larger chamber, committing them to memory. Caves were often unreliable, and he wanted to avoid any unpleasant surprises.
Rathus took a deep breath and reached up, slowly taking off his Unglasses. They would do him little good if the Auroch started breathing fire in here, they would only turn the flames from bright to blinding. The artifacts were too expensive to risk in a simple fight, anyways. Bereft of his augmented vision, his eyes strained against the darkness of the cave. Memories came to him, unbidden.
***************
High in the mountains, a much younger Rathus, hardly more than a boy, panted with frustration as a small ceramic pot remained stubbornly unbroken, swaying mockingly from a rope. The young man swung his fist again, hitting nothing but air as the pot was hauled above him, then swept down to his left side. Rathus adjusted the neck of his gi, and tilted his head to listen, brow furrowed above his blindfolded eyes. He spun suddenly to his right, swinging with a wide left hook. Without warning, he bent and twisted at the waist, and lifted his leg behind him in a heel kick which caught the pot square in the center.
He was rewarded with a loud crack as the pot shattered, spilling shards of ceramic, as well as small pieces of wrapped candy, to the ground below. The young acolyte tore the blindfold from his eyes, and blinked as his eyes adjusted to the bright sun. As the spots cleared from his vision, he looked around the mountain vista until he found his master, seated at the top of the steps. Beyond him lay the path which connected this training ground to their home back at the temple, the House of the Rising Sun.
Rathus glared at his master as several of the younger acolytes dashed onto the grounds to snatch up the candies and ceramic shards, which they could eat and craft into throwing weapons, hopefully respectively. He raised his voice as he addressed the old man.
“How much longer must I repeat these basic exercises, Master? I am ready to learn the Named Techniques!” His fists clenched as he fought back tears of frustration. He had been breaking pots for the last 4 hours, and no amount of candy could fully offset the feeling that he was being made into a fool.
His master roused from his meditation and opened one eye to gaze down upon him. He was a wizened old man wearing billowy red robes, with a face as creased with wrinkles as a well-read book. The old master ran his hands through a long, white beard as he stared impassively down at Rathus.
“Only once you have mastered this exercise may you move on to the next.” He replied curtly, his voice flowing out with the smooth creak of well-oiled leather.
Rathus gestured to the hanging rope as Sister Adia and Brother Bob tied another pot to it, and filled it with caramels wrapped in wax paper.
“I broke the last one in less than 30 seconds, even with somebody actively moving it. That's already on the level of an Imperial Knight! I'm ready to move on, Master Savage.”
His master shrugged as he looked down towards him. “If you are ready to move on, then go. You speak true, you are fighting on the level of a Knight. If that is good enough for you, then go to the Capital with my blessing, and seek out the Knighthood there.”
Rathus bit his tongue and looked away. His cheeks, already ruddy from the bite of the cold mountain air, flushed a deep scarlet. He said nothing.
“But I recall the words of the young boy who arrived at the foot of our temple, ragged from his journey up the mountain. He told me it was his goal to be the greatest Knight to ever live. If that remains your goal, then you are wrong, and you are not ready.”
Rathus stared up at his teacher, and shook his arms plaintively. “Tell me what it is that I'm doing wrong, then. How fast do I need to be before I can move on?!”
Master Savage chuckled to himself.
“It's not about speed, Apprentice Rathus. It is as I said, you have not yet mastered the exercise. You are listening to where the pot is, not to where the pot will be. You are listening with your ears, not your heart.”
Rathus hung his head in resignation. “I don't understand...” he sighed. Master Savage nodded.
“Which is why we must continue to practice.”
Rathus closed his eyes and shook his head. With heavy hands, he lifted the blindfold to his eyes and tied it back into place.
“Now do it again,” Master Savage commanded. Sister Adia seized Rathus by the shoulders, and spun him around, as Brother Bob hauled the pot back into position.
“And this time, LISTEN WITH YOUR HEART.”
********************
In the darkness of the cave, Imperial Knight Rathus McGaff opened his heart, and with his eyes shut, listened to the cave around him. He was aware of every drop of water, every centipede crawling on the galactites, the movements of the air, and the destinations the wind sought as it flowed. He calmly reached up to his mouth, his arm sending ripples through the air as it cut a path through the damp. With infinite grace and sublime peace, he put two fingers into his mouth, and whistled, a high sharp sound that fucking annihilated the calm within the cave.
“C'mon out, now.” He shouted into the tunnel, in the most soothing voice he could muster. He held the carrot at arm's length, such that it would be the first thing something leaving the tunnel would see.
'With any luck,' he thought, incorrectly, 'I can bring this cow in without a fight.'
As if in response to his non-utterances, the air from the tunnel rippled. He released the carrot and pulled his hand back. A plume of flame billowed from the mouth of the tunnel, lighting the cave brilliantly and wonderfully sauteing the carrot. Rathus reached into his bag and squirted the carrot with his bottle of tactical balsamic glaze, before retreating to the safety of a nearby galactite.
“Come on out now, I bet you're hungry. There's plenty more carrots where that came from.”
The sound of hooves echoed through the cave, as the dimly-glowing body of the Blaze Auroch came into view. The beast stood as tall as a man, with a body like several barrels lashed together. It lowered its head to sniff the carrot, flames licking from its nose as it exhaled. The long points of its horns swept the room as it looked around, before locking eyes with Rathus.
“Easy now...” Rathus cooed. “Look, I've got plenty more for you. You like carrots, right?” He raised his left hand up, holding a half dozen carrots by their green stems.
The Auroch snorted at him, and lowering its head, began to charge. The Imperial knight tossed the carrots to one side and fell back.
“Right. No carrots? Stick it is, then.” He raised his right hand to reveal the Lead Knuckles, and bracing his arm, he fired at the charging beast. As he squeezed the trigger, the hammer fell, and the fist in the gun's cylinder flashed, its index finger flicking open. With a ripple of force, a shot exploded from the end of the barrel, and quickly expanded as it flew, widening to a large metal fist the size of a man's head.
The fist slammed into the beast's skull, halting its charge. The fist fell to the ground, and as it fell, melted into mist. The Auroch staggered, more from surprise than pain, and raised its head to glare at Rathus with murderous intent.
“We coulda' stopped at the carrots,” The Gun Knight said with a shrug, “This is your doing.”
The Auroch reared its head back and took a deep breath, flames glowing from deep within its throat. Rathus uttered a fuck-word under his breath and dove behind the galactite, as the Blaze Auroch filled the room with flames.
Rathus quickly tossed his Lead Knuckles into his left hand, and reached down to his Holdster with his right, speaking softly, “
He dropped the gun back into his Holdster to the sound of cracking rock, and stood. A stalactite fell from the roof, shattering in front of the Blaze Auroch and blinding it with a spray of rocks. The creature reared back in surprise, and Rathus vaulted the galactite, firing two more shots of his Lead Knuckles. One struck the creature in the front leg, and the other in the chest, causing the beast to stagger back. The bull snorted and pawed the ground, lowering its horns towards him.
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Rathus fired once more, but the Auroch jerked its head to the side, causing the fist to instead slam into its horn, sending the shot bouncing and vibrating away. Rathus did not need to look at his gun to know that the fist had only a single shot still at the ready. The Auroch charged at him. Its hooves sparked in the darkness of the cave, and the air rushed in its wake. Rathus ducked and rolled to one side, evading the charge, which plowed through the slagged galactite, shattering it into so many shards of rock.
Rathus reached into one of the pouches on his belt, and pulled out a large silver coin. Although it could hardly be seen in the dark of the cave, Rathus knew that this coin had the design of some unidentifiable monarch on the front, but more importantly, an ornate shield on the back. He also knew that the coin held a secret, which was, of course, why it was in his possession to begin with.
He aimed his gun at the Auroch, but was interrupted as it kicked at him, scraping its feet on the ground and sending shards of rock flying up into his face. Rathus clenched his teeth at the sharp sting of the shards, but he was not blinded. His eyes had been closed since the start of this encounter. The Gun Knight adjusted his aim slightly, and fired.
The fist slammed into the side of the Blaze Auroch's head, and the creature wobbled on its feet, before falling to the ground. Rathus slid his gun into the Holdster. It would be of no use until he could get it recharged, anyways. He took a step towards the bull, listening cautiously for any movement. When none was forthcoming, he reached behind his back to grab hold of his rope. As if in response, the Auroch reared up, and opened its mouth towards Rathus, lighting up the cave.
Rathus jumped back, and pinched the coin tightly between his finger and thumb.
“
The flames subsided as quickly as they began, and Rathus barely had time to stand before an impact knocked him off his feet once more. The shield rang and dented as the Blaze Auroch slammed into it. The Gun Knight's feet skittered on the debris and ash which littered the floor, and he was driven into a wall, before the wind was driven from him. His eyes fluttered open as he gasped. The beast lifted its horns, dragging Rathus up against the wall, before tossing him to one side. As Rathus flew through the air, memory found him once more.
*************
Five years had passed since Rathus had first arrived at the House of the Rising Sun, five long years of training, of frustration, of pain and triumph. The young acolyte stood at the door to the Inner Sanctum, no longer a boy, but not quite yet a man. He was to be tested at last, to prove himself worthy of learning the Named Techniques which the Temple was host to. His greatest challenge lay ahead, through these heavy stone doors. Heart pounding in his chest, Rathus entered the Sanctum.
The cold air of the Sanctum drew goosebumps on Rathus' arms and chest, and the watchful eyes of the monks gathered on the raised daises urged him onwards. He walked to the center of the room, in which the traditional ancient ring stood. It was here that he would be tested. As he ducked between the long ropes that flanked the edge of the ring, he stared towards the far corner, at the one to be his opponent.
Master Savage leaned back against the pole, his wrinkled face betraying no emotion, as his robes hung loosely against his body. Rathus moved to his own corner, and shrugged off his own robe. Beneath, he wore only a pair of green shorts, fit to his body, and emblazoned on the waist with a band of gold. He bowed to his master.
“Master, I am ready to be tested.” Rathus announced aloud. “Let my training show the worth of my efforts, that I may be acknowledged.”
Master Savage stood, nodding with immense gravity.
“You have trained hard, young McGraff. You've been eager to face this day. You have learned the ways of the noble art of Puroreso, but more importantly, you have learned discipline.” The Master rubbed at his chin. “For the most part, that is. Humility has been your hardest learned lesson yet. But you have, at least, shown improvement.”
Rathus kept his head bowed, saying nothing.
“We will see if your training has prepared you. If you are up to the challenge, you will be acknowledged, and we shall accept you into the inner ranks. You will finally be able to learn the Named Techniques you have been begging from us all these years.” His comment drew an errant chuckle from the audience.
Rathus' face brightened as he looked up at his Master. The old man stood shakily to his feet, before raising his arms to his side. He curled his arms, and flexed, grunting with exertion. Before Rathus' eyes, the old man's robes exploded outwards into shreds, revealing the chiseled, hector-like body of a man many years younger than his wrinkled face would suggest. Lights blossomed from the ceiling of the chamber, illuminating the ring, and shining off the glistening oiled chest of Master Sam “The Caveman” Savage, who now wore only a leopard-print speedo.
“If you fail...” Master Savage continued, “Well...” He casually flexed his way to the center of the ring to meet Rathus, as a monk in a black and white striped robe came to stand between the two. Master Savage chuckled.
“Well, consider it another lesson in humility.”
**********
Rathus rolled into a crouch as he landed, skidding on the rocks below him. The bull did not give him even a moment to gather his thoughts, immediately slamming into him. Rathus twisted to avoid the horns, but found himself held between them. The Auroch bucked and threw its head back, launching Rathus behind it. Rathus spun through the air, drawing his legs up to protect his chest as the beast reared forwards and kicked him out of the air with its back legs.
He hit the ground and rolled, sliding into the far wall. The Auroch turned to regard him as the Gun Knight slowly pulled himself to his feet, bracing himself on the wall of the cave. With his right hand, Rathus patted the Holdster at his waist. He could end this fight in a moment, if he wanted to use lethal means. But that could wait for now. Better to take the beast alive. It was not yet time to resort to his other guns. Not when he still had tools to use.
The Blaze Auroch pawed the ground, lowering its head for another charge. Rathus walked calmly towards it, shrugging off his long coat. He winced at a sharp pain in his ribs, but still stared down the bull with grim determination.
Rathus lowered himself into a fighting stance, and grinned a smile at his opponent.
“Come on, then, Bessie.” He challenged.
The Auroch bellowed in anger, and charged towards him. Rathus ran forwards to meet the beast head-on. As the two collided, Rathus dodged to the side, and slid his arms up and around the bull's horns, avoiding the sharp points. He held tight onto the creature's head, forcing it down, as he shifted back, and used his opponent's momentum against it. The muscles on Rathus' arms and back strained as he heaved, and bodily lifted the Auroch up off of the ground.
The Gun Knight groaned with effort as he hauled the beast vertically into the air, holding tight to its horns. With the smooth motions only years of practice could instill, Rathus McGaff leaned back, falling backwards and slamming the Auroch's head and neck into the ground with the full force of their combined weight, in a perfectly executed Brainbuster.
The bull lay on the ground, stunned, as Rathus rolled to his feet. The Blaze Auroch shifted slightly, shaking its head as it tried to lift itself to its feet. Rathus turned away from the creature, and ran to the nearest wall, upon which rested his dented shield, wedged tightly up between wall and floor. He stepped onto the shield, then stepped once, twice, against the crevices of the wall, into the footholds he had memorized before the fight began. Lifting himself high into the air, he pushed away from the wall, moonsaulting towards the bull, flipping backwards as he arched his back.
“
Rathus, coughing as he drew ragged breaths through the dust, raised himself to his feet, and looked down at his opponent. The Blaze Auroch looked up at him, giving him a pathetic moo. The malice was gone from its eyes, and it seemed to have been suitably cowed.
Rathus sighed as he stretched and felt himself for injuries. He staggered to his coat and put it back on, before sitting down on the cavern floor, near the tunnel where the Blaze Auroch had first entered. The Gun Knight draw a small copper flask from one of his pouches, and sipped gingerly from it. He could feel his wounds begin to knit themselves together, his scratches and scrapes fading. The sharp pain in his side dimmed to a dull ache.
“Now that we've made our introductions,” Rathus managed between breaths, “What exactly has got you so riled up to begin with?”
The cow mooed mournfully, and looked towards the tunnel it had been residing in. Rathus followed its gaze, and peered into the tunnel. He spared a glance back at the cow before crouching and walking further into the dark. When he returned, he was holding a piece of vellum. He sat back down, and pulled from his pouch a small stone, which began to glow with a dim yellow light once he shook it. He held the paper up, and read it.
“By order of the Baron Durgen, you are hereby ordered to pay the lesser of 20 Silver Lods, or 15% of your annual income, for taxes and levies related to the provisioning of Bovine Enterprises.”
“Further, a penalty of 2 Silver Lods has been apprised, for smoking violations witnessed throughout the Barony.”
The cow looked piteously up at Rathus, letting out a deeply wounded bellow. Rathus nodded in sympathy.
“Oof. That's rough, buddy.” He crumpled the vellum and tossed it aside, lifting himself to his feet. He walked over to the bull and tied a rope loosely around its neck, making sure the knot was secure.
“I'll tell you what. If you don't give me any more trouble, I'll talk to this Baron for you. I had a few things to take up with him anyhow.”
The Auroch mooed hopefully, and started to pull itself to its feet. Rathus looked down at it, and shrugged. “Sounds like a deal to me.” He lead the cow out of the cave, to the waiting Tour Guide, and the path down to the village.
**************
Later, in the tavern, Rathus finished recounting his story. The village Goatherd had tentatively accepted the bull into his herd for the time being. Rathus had impressed on them how well such a specimen could sell to an interested breeder or rancher.
“Anyways,” Rathus finished, “I'm glad that I could help solve your problem, but next time, you should really properly identify what sort of creature you've got on your hands before you send for help.”
Headman Bosman bowed his head apologetically. “I shall bear that in mind for next time. Although, at the least, this turned out to be much easier to handle than a dragon, didn't it?”
Rathus sighed and seemed to deflate, leaning onto his table and resting his head in his hands.
“Easy isn't that important to me. I was looking for a dragon specifically.” The Gun Knight patted the Holdster at his side.
“I recently acquired a Gun That Kills Dragons, and I was hoping I'd be able to properly test it out,” he explained, “But, I guess I'll have to go back to chasing rumors again.”
The Blacksmith guffawed, “Well, best of luck to you, in that. You've at least done us a fine turn today.”
Bosman nodded, “Yes, you have the gratitude of the whole village! You are always welcome here, any time your travels bring you back. Allow me, as well, to present you with the bounty for the beast.” The headman offered Rathus a small burlap sack, that sang with the gentle chiming of coins.
Rathus took the sack, and hefted it once or twice, feeling the weight. He paused, and scrutinized the bag.
“Not that I particularly care,” he began, “but it was my understanding that the bounty was originally listed as 50 Lods. This doesn't feel like more than 20.”
The Headman winced, and bowed his head to the Knight. “My apologies! Please forgive us, for we did not mean to deceive. The original bounty was indeed 50, but Baron Durgen had levied new taxes upon us, and we found ourselves with less money to spend.”
Rathus sighed, rubbing his forehead as he leaned back in his chair. “This guy and his taxes...”
The Blacksmith growled in agreement. “It's unthinkable. Disgusting, even. The old Baron never bothered us none, but this new Baron is absolutely draconic with his money-grubbing."
Rathus paused, and slowly looked towards the Blacksmith.
“What... did you say?”
The Blacksmith looked over to him, mid-drink, and shrugged. “I said, the new Baron is absolutely draconic, what with all the money he's leeching from us.”
Rathus glanced down at the Holdster on his hip, then back to the Blacksmith. Slowly, a huge grin began to dawn on his face.