James looked down at his broken shield, the two broken pieces held together with only a bit of splintered wood and good intentions. He sighed, tossing the shield back to the floor. It had served its purpose already, protecting James and saving his life multiple times in the past week.
“Shame it couldn’t last longer,” James muttered. He adjusted his cloak and picked up his helmet, which still soldiered on with its chipped steel and visible dents. James attached his helmet to his belt, taking a note from Edmund before heading up to the surface deck. Everyone waited up there, checking their available gear and potions.
“Alright,” Seamus started as he was adjusting his own cloak, spotting James emerging from the hatch. “We have two vitality potions, three waterskins of Horcus tea, and a single runestone holding one casting of Night Spray.” He set the items down on a barrel’s top, everyone gathering around the limited supplies.
“How are we going to split this up?” Edmund asked, raising an eyebrow. James rubbed his chin in thought, looking at the two copper vials that held the vitality potions.
“Archibald and Miles should get the potions,” James suggested. Everyone nearby gave him a look of raised eyebrows and intrigue. He picked up both vials, holding them up for everyone to see.
“Archibald might need one since he’ll be using castings the most out of all of us. Bjorn himself already has his own flask of vitality, so he’ll be fine. Miles is our designated healer, too, so letting him hold on to a vitality potion that can save someone’s life is vital.” Everyone murmured their agreement, with Edmund and Seamus sharing looks of disappointment.
“As for the tea and the rune…” James contemplated on who to give the tea to before Edmund picked up the rune.
“Let me handle the rune,” Edmund suggested. “I have pretty good accuracy with these, plus I’ve had more experience with these back in Azurvale,” he explained. He tossed the smooth stone in the air before catching it. James looked around to see if anyone objected to Edmund’s responsibility over the runestone. No one said anything.
“Alright, guess that settles that.” James focused on the rest of the supplies, picking up one of the leather skins containing the tea Dahlia had brewed that morning. It wouldn’t be as fast-working or effective as the vitality potions. Still, it would definitely serve as a much-needed substitute if the situation called for it.
“I’ll take one waterskin, as for the other two…” James looked over at Haggard, who seemed fresh as a daisy and fit to fight despite his ‘dip’ in the canals of Vindis days back.
‘He’ll be fine for most of the day. Everyone else, on the other hand…’
“Seamus and Bjorn will carry them. We’ll share if the situation demands it,” James explained, tying his leather skin of tea to his belt. He had a feeling none of the others would be too excited to drink the bitter tea, but he still acknowledged that they might need to drink the stuff if needed.
“Alright then… Let’s get a move on,” James called, watching as everyone headed towards the deck bridge that was extended to the wooden docks of Aldren. The only one who hadn’t moved was Seamus, who had a soft smile on his face.
“Excited to be here?” James asked.
“More than you know. But…” The young man’s smile faltered, his hands rubbing together for warmth. “I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t worried about everyone here.”
“Just try not to think about it too much. It doesn’t seem like there’s a presence here. At least not one Faust, and I can’t sense,” James explained. Seamus relaxed his shoulders at that.
“Good to know. You and that spirit seem to get along, huh?” Seamus asked.
James chuckled, patting Seamus’ shoulder. “Believe me. There’s a lot more bickering than what it seems on the surface,” he joked.
‘I can hear you, dunghead,’ Faust muttered with reproach.
Before James and Seamus started their way off the ship, they were interrupted.
“Wait!” Dahlia suddenly called, hurrying over to them from across the deck. “Here, for the cold. Gods know that Frost is unforgiving, even in a place as lush as this.” She smiled as she handed James a couple of warm-looking items. James examined the knitted gloves and little wool hat.
“Where did you...?” James started before the shaman answered.
“Found it in the storage deck when I was looking for supplies last night, along with some other items of warmth,” she explained as James fitted the warm gloves onto his stiff hands, some feeling returning to his numbing fingers.
Dahlia produced a scarf and some more gloves, which had some visible tears and frayed edges. Still, James was tempted by its warm-looking material, his hands accepting them. He looked back at Seamus, who was eyeing the pieces of cloth.
“Here.” James handed the woolen apparel to the other man. Seamus showed a sign of relief as he slipped on the knitted gloves.
“Thank the gods. This fur lining in the armor really doesn’t do much for me,” the young man commented as he wrapped the scarf around his neck. James slipped on his woolen hat, which fit snugly around his blond hair.
“Thanks for this,” James smiled at the shaman as he gave a thumbs-up. “We’ll be back before you know it. I have a good feeling about this place.” He gave Dahlia one last look and gave her a small wave, which she returned with her own smile and wave. James soon stepped onto the small deck bridge, his eyes turning back to the island ahead.
The group of six made their way to the snowy forest ahead, Seamus leading everyone onto the path ahead. James was right next to the young man, following Seamus as he guided them through the forest’s path.
“How far away is the settlement on this island?” Miles asked as they walked, talking over the sound of snow crunching beneath their boots.
“Its name is Aldren, and it’s not too far from the port,” Seamus answered. “We should come up in a short while,” he assured the group. James looked back, watching as the sight of the ship and docks grew farther and farther away. The group soon made a turn on the path, and before he knew it, the sight of Frostbite disappeared behind the trees.
James looked back at their path, surveying everyone’s expressions. They all looked ready for a fight, their hands resting on the pommels of their weapons as they walked along the snowy forest. Bjorn and Haggard looked excited, and even Miles had a spring in his step. Edmund was busy fiddling with the sword on his back, making sure its sheath was free to move, and the blade slid in and out perfectly. Seamus was walking at a brisk pace, scarf snugly wrapped around his neck and mouth, and his nose turned a soft red. Like Edmund, Seamus also fiddled with his sword and sheath, albeit subtly. James felt sentimental in a way, a small smile drifting onto his face.
‘What’s with that?’ Faust commented, mentioning the minor hit of nostalgia James was feeling.
‘I’m not sure myself,’ James answered.
Truth be told, however, the group reminded him of a rag-tag group of adventurers, all of them teaming up together to take on the villain of the story. They had their tank, rogue, and fighter. If Dahlia had come with them, she could’ve easily filled the role of healer. James and Seamus would be the clear outliers among the group, their roles not yet set in stone. Vanguard, ranger, Wizard, who knows? Yes, he could see it now. A small band of misfits, all prepared to confront the morally corrupt antagonist of their story.
Instead of a corrupt evil king or dark Wizard, however, they were all going up against a creature that was the stuff of nightmares. An abomination that threatened a horrific, slow, and agonizing fate worse than death. James felt his gloved hand clench in reflex, remembering his talk with the voices in his mindscape. He wouldn’t ever back down from his promise, no matter what. The young man sighed softly as he shook his thoughts away. He wanted to focus on something else, anything else.
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James turned to look at his surroundings, wondering if there was any natural life on this island.
‘Hopefully not any wolves…’
As James thought back to his last encounter with dire creatures, he noticed the surrounding greenery. He raised an eyebrow as he looked at the foreign plants.
“Haven’t seen any trees like these before,” James commented as he looked upon the natural towers of wood and green. He couldn’t help but feel fascinated by them.
‘They almost look like fir trees… but with the features and structure of other types’
“Vern trees. They’re native to the northern parts of Valenfrost, so it’s understandable you haven’t seen them until now,” Seamus explained.
“They’re also fire-resistant, right?” Edmund spoke up, looking at the trees with an eye of interest.
“Yeah, and tough as all hell,” Bjorn commented. “But don’t let that fool you. If you get one on fire, it burns with a heat hotter than an Ignition spell. The dwarves up north use them for their forges since the wood burns much better than coal.”
James was about to ask about their durability before Seamus suddenly stopped, catching the other man off guard. James skidded his walk to a stop, nearly slipping on the snow beneath him.
“What is it?” James asked as he turned to Seamus, whose widening eyes were staring up ahead. He pulled the scarf down, visibly distressed.
“Burning,” Seamus spoke out in realization. Before James could ask, the smell had finally reached him. It was a stench he never wanted to experience again, ever since the Siege of Yorktown. The aroma of burning homes. Seamus was already picking his pace up, turning it into a run as he left behind the mostly confused group.
“Shit!” James cursed, already moving his feet. He didn’t turn to see if everyone else had the same realization since he knew he possibly had mere moments before Seamus got himself into danger.
“Seamus!” He called out behind the young man, his eyes moving to the open sky to see the telltale black pillars of smoke.
‘I hope we’re not too late!’
James wondered how many people could be in danger, the amount of people in the settlement of Aldren. Would they be able to fend for themselves? Would they even survive an encounter with that thing?
He shook those thoughts away, gritting his teeth.
‘One thing at a time…’ He spoke to himself, deciding to focus on the threat. ‘Faust, are you sure there isn’t a presence here?’
‘I am sure of it. I doubt it’s one of those creatures again. It’s possible that it’s something else.’
James blinked.
‘Something else? But that storm… I doubt anyone besides Seamus would risk going through…’
Still, James couldn’t rule that possibility out. He could still see Seamus’ figure ahead, who was outrunning his sprint.
“Dammit,” James muttered, hoping that he wouldn’t get left behind. Fortunately for him, Seamus slowed down, letting James catch up to him. The blond man panted heavily as he reached Seamus’ side, who had stopped his run.
“Fuck…” James panted, holding his hurting side as he tried to stand up straight. He was about to ask Seamus why he had stopped before his eyes glanced over in front of him. He blinked, unsure of how he had missed it.
There was a small town ahead, open and free. A settlement that had no visible walls or defenses. At least, that’s what it had been. Most of the buildings and huts were in flames, black smoke emitting from them like a smokestack back on Earth. James felt sick to his stomach, despite not seeing any bodies anywhere. He could feel the flames from where he was standing, the heat and smell bringing back some terrible memories.
James heard footsteps behind him, the sound putting him on high alert as he spun around, sword halfway drawn. He relaxed at the sight of his group, all of whom were staring at the sight before them.
“What the… What happened?” Edmund asked, wide-eyed as he stared at the hypnotic destruction. James tried to find the words, but Seamus’ hand grabbing at his cloak interrupted him.
“Get down!” Seamus suddenly said in a panicked, hushed voice. James did as told, hitting the snowy ground as Seamus hurried to hide behind a nearby fallen tree. The group followed suit, hiding as James peeked over the log.
“What is it?” James whispered to Seamus.
‘Bandits? Rival clan? Fuck… Is it the marauders?’
James looked back at Seamus, who held a single finger up to his lips.
Seamus slowly moved to peek with James, watching the burning town. James wanted to ask what was up, but he then heard it. Voices. They sounded distant, accompanied by laughter and snorts. James furrowed his brow as a group of enormous figures walked into sight, dragging what looked like a child.
‘No… It’s a gnome…’
James recognized how his proportions were shaped. Similar to Wheaton from Vindis, the gnome’s head was slightly oversized for his small frame, and his arms and legs were unusually long.
“Get this piece of meat to the camp. Put him with the others! He’ll probably know where it is,” one figure said loudly, his thick accent making his pronunciation sound strange. James had to strain his hearing to catch more of the conversation the strangers were having.
“What about that... thing in the woods?” One of them asked, his voice genuinely full of nervousness.
“That’s a rumor! A bear mauled Gron and Kir. Nothing to it!”
“Still… a bear…”
“Get going, will ya! Otherwise, Blood-Irk is going to have our heads for this! We have to burn this town down before sundown!” The bigger one shouted at his comrades, who nodded as they dragged off the gnome. James squinted as he saw two figures leave with the gnome, leaving behind two of their accomplices.
One of them came close to one of the burning buildings, his visage finally exposed. James recoiled from the sight, his eyes staring at what looked like a deformed half-man, half… whatever the fuck it was.
His head was shaped like a malformed potato, and one of his eyes was blocked by what looked like fungus growing over his eyebrow. His skin was a sickly green, with visible pockmarks covering every surface. He was bald, with long scars on his scalp and what looked like a dent in his skull. His jaw had a noticeable underbite, showing off his yellowish crooked teeth marred with black residue. The thing wore strange armor, which looked like he assembled pieces of different armor sets and tied them together with wire.
“Orcs...” Seamus muttered, answering James’ internal thoughts.
‘That’s an orc?’
James focused more on the two others who fell behind the initial orc. They looked similar but had some hair and some more malformations. One had an eye bigger than his other, its green iris lazily looking around as the normal one stayed static. The last orc was bigger than the first one but didn’t have the same amount of armor on him. He did, however, have what looked to be a piece of an axe’s end stuck in his skull, the rust on the steel showing that it was an old wound.
“What the hell do we do?” James whispered to Seamus, who grimaced.
“I’m not sure. Orcs aren’t as easy to dispatch as per se… a bandit or barbarian. Especially with that armor,” Seamus muttered. He slid back down the log, resting his back against the wood as he thought.
“Orcs… Interesting to see them so far from their usual hunting spots,” Miles commented.
“They’re part of a tribe, it seems. Can’t make out the symbol.” Haggard muttered as he took a peek.
Archibald cursed under his breath at the mention of that. “This doesn’t sound good... We should retreat, get our bearings before we do anything—”
“Don’t be a damned coward!” Bjorn hissed at the elf. “It’s obvious what we must do.” The dwarf grinned as he brought out an ax, his left hand reaching for the shield on his back.
“Wait!” Seamus called out in a hushed whisper. Bjorn stopped his attempted rush, frowning as he looked at Seamus. The young man seemed to think momentarily before looking at James. “Do you still remember that tactic you wanted to use against the marauders?”
James raised an eyebrow, remembering his shitty attempt at guerrilla tactics in the Siege of Yorktown. It had all gone to hell quick after the first few seconds of the raid since James had given out his position when he passed out screaming. Still, James could remember what the initial plan was.
“Yeah, I do,” he responded, realizing what Seamus was going for.
“Tactics?” Edmund asked.
“Ugh,” Haggard groaned. “It’s a coward’s way of doing it.” However, no one but Bjorn was listening to Haggard since everyone else had their eyes on Seamus, who had a grim look on his face.
“I have an idea.”