It had seemed like such a good idea at the time. He needed to get away, really fast, from the Citadel, before any sort of pursuit could assemble and apprehend him. All he had left of his armory was a single capsule of slipstone, and since he had a long, constant-incline path ahead of him, the solution seemed obvious. He’d just coat the outside of his lab coat with slipstone and use it for a sled. It was the perfect way to get away from the dwarves really quickly!
Well.
He certainly was going very quickly. Very, very quickly.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH
The Blackstone road stretched out before him, hurtling by at speed far faster than he was comfortable with, and as a bend rapidly approached, Edwin hastily pulled up on one of the sleeves of his coat-sled to try and turn without flying off into the undergrowth. The landscape had changed a lot from his start up at the top of the mountain. The small shrubs and grasses had long since merged back into the forest he had been lost in, and he had no desire to careen into a tree at these speeds. It felt like he was going a hundred miles an hour, but it was in all honesty probably closer to thirty or forty. Still more than enough for him to break every bone in his body if he didn’t- OH SHOOT ANOTHER TURN.
Edwin hugged his transport tightly, not wanting to even have the chance of letting go and falling off as the coat banked around the turn. It wasn’t as bad as that section one of the road bordering the cliff, at least. Edwin had nearly passed out, going so fast that close to a massive drop. This thing needed guardrails. And he needed brakes. He was bound to be far enough away from the Blackstone Citadel to be safe from any immediate pursuit by now, or so he hoped. Unfortunately, that fact was of limited use when he had built up so much speed on his way down that a sudden stop would send him tumbling, break his bones- a twinge on his shoulder reminded him- break more bones, and possibly not even bring him to a complete stop. At least the road had mostly leveled out, so he wasn’t speeding up any more. Small mercies and all that.
Okay, time to think.
A Physics major is on a constant slope. Assuming there’s no friction, calculate the speed at which…. Shut up, me.
He was sitting on his lab coat, sleeves turned inside-out and used for reins and coated with slipstone, which was for most intents and purposes, frictionless. His backpack was sitting next to him, one loop halfheartedly hanging over his right arm. He had an arrowhead stuck in his shoulder (most of the shaft having broken off already), a bleeding foot, and a probably broken arm. He couldn’t wait to stop on his own, and ANOTHER CORNER if he didn’t slow down, he would eventually miss a turn. It would be hard enough to do this on a normal day, never mind with only one functional arm. It was not, however, the most suicidal thing Edwin had tried today though, so at least it had that going for it.
But anyway. Slowing down. Edwin had stuff, mainly food, in his backpack. Probably not useful. He had decently sturdy boots, but not enough that he trusted them to stop his current speed without breaking or wearing down to the point of uselessness. He still needed shoes! Hmm. One of them did have the adhesive mortar on it, but it had cured back when he set the dwarf lord on fire and so wouldn’t be much help in this situation. He had glass goggles that probably hindered his vision but also allowed him to see without his eyes being dried out in moments. He still had his gloves, but they wouldn’t… hmm. Actually. It worked for ziplines, could it work here? Though how could he manage to both steer and to slow himself down using his gloves while only having a single free hand?
Edwin gritted his teeth. There was no way around it, but this would hurt. Might permanently injure himself too, but hopefully not. First, after making another turn anyway, he slowly rotated himself so he faced primarily to the left, leaving his right hand steering, his left slowly creeping off the end of the tattered hem of his coat until his gloved fingertips skated across the smooth-yet-rough Blackstone paving. Thankfully, the motion didn’t hurt too badly, so Edwin pressed slightly harder. The application of force was enough to make him drift ever so slightly to the left, and he corrected at the front, then de-corrected as the road itself began to angle to the left. How far did this road go, anyway?
The world streaked by, the woods a blur of color as Edwin slowly increased the pressure his hand was applying. With every additional touch, though, the pain in his arm increased and he started to doubt if he could manage his plan. A tiny bump in the road made his sled jump and crunch back into the road, jolting his arm and sending pain shooting through Edwin’s shoulder. Hmm. That gave him an idea, though. Maybe he could crack the slipstone in half, letting him slowly trap debris in the gap and accumulate friction that way? Once there was a bit of slowdown in this out-of-control descent, he could probably manage to stop the rest of the way.
As Edwin carefully maneuvered back to his original position, he waited for a decently long straight stretch in the road to arrive, then lifted up the front of his ride as far as it could go- well, as far as he was willing to lift it, anyway- and brought his foot down hard on the portion lifted into the air. He felt a little give, but not enough. He kicked again. A bit more give. Again. And again…
The slipstone splintered, sending fragments of mortar in every direction. Several got caught under the coat, jamming up what slipstone remained on the outside of his coat and severely slowing the ride. Edwin, not adequately prepared for the extreme change in motion, lurched forwards, his bad shoulder impacting the cloak and exploding in pain. The jolt also threw his legs up in the air, where they caught the force of the wind full-bore. He screamed, waves of agony radiating across his entire upper torso, and rolled over on his back, trying to relieve the pressure. His weight pressed down on the front half of his sled, introducing a fairly large new force involved in this free-body diagram of a physics problem. Suddenly, the front half of Edwin’s former coat was not moving anywhere close to the back half, and the discrepancy pulled him into a head-over-heels tumble, just like he was trying to avoid. Well, at least this way he had the… mostly intact leather coat to help protect him. His backpack went flying off somewhere, slipping from his arm as he lost grip on the reins of his descent. Even his gloves flew off at some point, the left one getting caught against the road at some point and yanking painfully on his arm as it was wrenched off, the right glove just getting lost in the tangle at some point.
Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.
All he knew was pain and confusion as the world spun. At least the road was almost entirely smooth, so there weren’t any jumps or rocks crashing into him. Just a very long tumble, wrapped up in an almost-smothering blanket made of tattered leather.
----------------------------------------
How long has it been since I had to just stay laying down because of how sore I was? Edwin mused, I was with the dwarves for like a month, month and a half, so about that, I suppose. Didn’t feel that long, though. He tried to move but was met with only pain, Pity I couldn’t bring my bed along. That would feel heavenly about now.
Eventually, Edwin woke up enough to get his bearings. He didn’t throw up, though for someone who never got motion sick, he came pretty close. That was not fun in the slightest. Ugh. At first, he tried rolling himself over and pushing himself into a sitting position, but his left arm told him in no uncertain terms that was not going to be an option. Instead, he settled for grabbing his legs with his right arm and pulling himself upright in what proved to be a very painful sit-up. His wounds, as minor as they might have been- outside of his left arm, anyway- were still tremendously uncomfortable as he contorted himself into place.
Once Edwin had successfully sat up (it was the minor victories that got him through), he looked around, assessing his latest situation. Pro: he was alive, free(!), and (mostly) unharmed. Con: his coat looked like a dishrag, his backpack was nowhere to be seen, his gloves were probably long gone, one of the lenses in his goggles had a giant crack running through it, and mostly unharmed was not the same as completely unharmed, even discounting his pre-existing injuries. It felt like half of his body was one giant bruise, and the other half had been run over by a truck. His face wasn’t too badly scraped up, fortunately, though his back was definitely bleeding again. With a pained groan, he removed the goggles from his face, feeling the indentation they had made around his eyes, and tossed them to the side. The crack in the lens grew bigger, but at this point Edwin couldn’t bring himself to care. All his dwarf-made PPE was pretty much ruined anyway, he’d need to replace them somehow before he could resume any sort of lab work.
He’d made some really cool stuff after all, and that was literally just using rocks and his own Skills. Edwin couldn’t wait to try and see what he could make when not under the threat of death, forced to focus solely on concrete and lime, and able to use more potentially magical components.
Before he could get too carried away by the fantasies of the Alchemists of old, spinning lead to gold and brewing the elixir of life, Edwin dragged his excitement back down to earth, chaining it to his current predicament. He was back in the middle of the wilderness, and he was arguably in worse shape now than he was a month ago. At least a month ago, he still had two unbroken arms and didn’t have a really sharp arrowhead buried in his shoulder. Then again, he now had the Blackstone road, both as a guide back to civilization and as a way to stay somewhat warmer, and finding food and water would be as easy as figuring out where his backpack had gotten to.
Also, I have better shoes. And it’s time to put them to good use, Edwin thought as he pulled himself to his feet, wincing as he did so.
----------------------------------------
It took a little while, but Edwin eventually managed to track down his left glove and thankfully full backpack, both tossed to the side of the road a good ways back from where he had eventually stopped. His right glove, sadly, was nowhere to be found. Pity. Presumably, his blowtorch was still attached to it, wherever it had landed, but after about a half-hour of searching he had to give it up as lost. He may have gotten a sizable lead over anyone following him, but he wasn’t about to assume that meant they would never catch up. After all, they presumably didn’t have a limp and likely would have some sort of Skill to help them go faster. No, he needed to press on as much as possible, keeping an eye out for places he could stop for the night and get this stupid arrowhead out of his shoulder. Ahem.
Edwin ran through a mental list of the things he was fairly certain he had brought with him. There should be a hotplate and metal bowl in his bag, along with some burlap rags, so he could make some bandages for himself at least. He didn’t bring soap, though, which he mentally cursed himself for forgetting. Cleaning out his injuries would be way harder without it, and he wouldn’t be able to do it nearly as well. Still, boiling water and cloth should go a long way. He also had a couple knives, so he might be able to fashion a makeshift splint for his arm. Hopefully he found civilization soon and would be able to get proper medical attention. Supposedly, the “Pretentious Empire” should be nearby, though what exactly ‘nearby’ entailed, and what might count as proper medical attention were far less certain. The Blackstones seemed basically standard pseudo-medieval fantasy from what limited glimpses he had seen, and that meant a medic in a local town might proscribe leeches and bleeding or tap his shoulder and magically close all his wounds. Well, worst-case scenario he might be able to walk someone through bandaging his injuries properly. In the meantime, would doing a temporary job help level Survival or would it unlock a First Aid skill?
Oh yeah. That reminded him. He had notifications to check. Mentally preparing himself for an utter wall of text, Edwin called them all up at once.