Talax's blood boiled as he glared at the orc, whose giddy and carefree expression only fueled his anger. The vein on his forehead throbbed with fury, making him feel as though he might explode at any moment.
Talax chose to believe that the excessive force used was unintentional, even if he ended up sprawled on the ground. He spat a mouthful of dirt and cleaned what was left of his tattered robes. He stood up and was ready to rip Qalo a new one when he heard moans of agony.
He jerked his head and saw the bound man writhing in misery. The sight of the man's wounds made Talax's stomach churn with horror. Blood oozed from various gashes on his body, and his eyes were rolled back in his head, showing only the whites. The pitiful moaning that escaped his lips only added to Talax's sense of urgency.
With his heart pounding in his chest, Talax rushed towards the suspended man, his trusty knife clutched tightly in his hand. He ignored the lifeless body of the woman lying nearby and focused all his attention on freeing the captive.
But the ropes that bound the man were just out of his reach, and he could feel his frustration building with each failed attempt to grab them. Talax jumped up and down, but it was no use. He needed help. Wait, where was Qalo?
He looked around and saw the tall orc rummaging around the campfire.
“What the hell are you doing? Come here and help me!”
Qalo didn’t look up and just raised his hand and gave him the middle finger. “One minute, I am looking for food.”
“That’s not how you use that! Never mind, you can eat later! I can’t reach the ropes!”
The orc growled but gave up his quest for food. “I am hungry!” He complained.
“You are always hungry.” Talax shot back.
“I have all these muscles to maintain! After a fight I need a good meal, like venison, oh, oh, no, wild boar with beeswax! Or better yet beetle juice with carken roots!”
Talax stopped his attempts to reach the ropes and looked over at Qalo with genuine bewilderment.
“How is insects and roots better than venison and boar?” Qalo walked over and Talax handed him his knife.
As the orc cut the ropes, he responded in an offhand way.
“Roots are crunchy and the beetle juice, yum, gives them an extra kick.” The orc’s face took a dreamy expression looking at nothing urging Talax to elbow him on the ribs.
“I ‘ll give you an extra kick, if you don’t free this man right now!” Qalo looked at him sheepishly and continued on with his task.
The captive was freed when the ropes snapped with a loud crack and he was unceremoniously dumped onto the ground. Talax cringed seeing the wounded man moan in pain, feeling guilty for not catching him in time. The man was battered and broken, but he seemed to be coming back to his senses. Talax kneeled, straining to hear the man's broken whispers as he tried to speak.
“Po..on.” Talax frustrated crouched even lower.
“Potion...bag.” Talax’s eyes rounded, and he looked over the camp. Qalo had returned to his search for food. “Hey, do you see any bags?”
“Hmm, there are a couple of pouches here. No food though.” He replied forlornly.
Talax's muscles tensed as he gritted his teeth, trying to contain his frustration. With quick and purposeful strides, he stalked over to the scattered pouches, his eyes scanning for the bag. His heart sank as he realized that small coins, some silver and copper, were the only contents of the bags.
Disappointed, he looked around and spotted a pile of trash. There, he realized were the loot from the wagon that the bandits had attacked. Among the crates and jugs, he noticed pieces of armor that shone brightly, showing their high craftmanship.
He went over the loot and hunted for the bag. He opened one crater and found strips of salty meat packed tightly together. He looked over at the orc debating whether he should show him his findings or let him continue in his futile search. He narrowed his eyes but then shrugged and went back to his own task. He had hit him with too much force after all! He still had dirt among his teeth, making the revenge even sweeter.
And finally, his tireless searching was rewarded. Hidden among the discarded armor. It was a somewhat large, luxurious satchel with rich, glossy brown leather. Its extravagant design spoke of wealth and status beyond the reach of ordinary commoners. That man was certainly rich. The bandits had hit it big, with a cart full of food and the loot from a noble knight. Too bad they had come across Talax and Qalo. A vicious smile bloomed on his face as he knelt next to the moaning man.
But as he opened the bag, he frowned in bewilderment. Instead of a bag full of contents, an impenetrable black void greeted his sight, defying his attempts to reach inside. Talax's hand met an invisible barrier, preventing him from touching the contents within. He tried again and again, exerting more force each time, but the barrier remained steadfast, mocking him with its unyielding solidity.
Frustrated, he shook the delirious man trying to get his attention.
“Here’s your bag, I can’t open it.” Talax carefully handed the man his bag, feeling a sense of trepidation as he watched the stranger reach inside. As the man's hand emerged, it held a small vial that glimmered enticingly in the light. The red liquid sloshed around in a mesmerizing way, beckoning Talax closer. When Talax saw the man’s hand shaking, he grabbed the small vial and uncapped it. The heady aroma of the liquid filled his nostrils, and he carefully brought it to the man’s lips.
The man gulped down the potion with a voracious appetite, his eyes closed in pure pleasure. Talax watched in amazement as the man's wounds began to close, one by one, disappearing into nothingness. The injuries that would have taken weeks to heal vanished in mere seconds, leaving Talax in awe of the potion's power. He wondered if the bandits had any more of those miraculous potions in their possession.
“Are you ok?” He asked when the man didn’t open his eyes. Suddenly, the man began to snore softly, his body finally succumbing to the effects of the potion, and Talax sighed in relief. He tiptoed away, leaving the stranger to his peaceful slumber. As he approached Qalo, who was sitting in a lotus position with his eyes closed, he asked.
"What are you doing?" His curiosity peaked.
"I have finally enough mana to open my ninth gate," Qalo replied without opening his eyes. "And I want to look over my gains from the fight."
Talax nodded in agreement, intending to do the same as soon as he looted the dead bandits.
Despite the unpleasant nature of the task, Talax knew it had to be done. His robes and undershirt hung off him in tatters, revealing the cuts and bruises beneath. His sandals were barely holding together, the straps frayed and ready to snap at any moment.
As he went over the bodies of the three men he had killed, he couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. For a moment he paused, unsure if he should feel ashamed for the overwhelming sense of triumph. Ultimately, he chose not to address his feelings and went on with his task. He stripped the bandits of their clothing, weapons, and anything else of value they possessed. The pile of loot grew as he worked, and he sat down amidst his spoils to inspect them more closely.
Amidst the blood-stained fabrics and battered weapons, Talax's eyes fell upon a somewhat clean brown tunic and a pair of old, scuffed breeches that were the only ones that fit him. He slipped into them eagerly, relishing the feel of clothes that actually fit him properly.
He tried on three different pairs of boots before finding the perfect fit, a pair that was actually in better condition than the others. With his new clothes and boots on, Talax felt a sense of renewed energy and confidence.
As he examined the weapons, he couldn't resist trying out each of the swords with some awkward swings, enjoying the feeling of power they gave him. The swords were all similar, with dull silver blades and blunt edges, but one in particular caught his eye and he set the others aside.
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Moving on to the small wooden bow that had belonged to one of the scouts, Talax couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement. Despite its sorry state, he knew that archery was a useful skill, one that could help them hunt more efficiently, without having to wait hours upon hours for a prey to fall into one of Qalo’s traps.
The new bow could even provide an advantage in battle. Sure, probably most fights would eventually end up in close combat, but until then he could use the bow to rain down death from a safe distance, picking off his enemies one by one with deadly accuracy.
Talax eagerly rifled through the pouches. He counted the coins, marveling at the weight of his newfound wealth. Six shimmering silver pieces and a score of copper coins sparkled in the light, catching his eye with their tantalizing glint. He wondered briefly if this was a good haul or not, but the excitement of the moment was too overwhelming to care. With a grin, he deftly scooped up the loot and secured it all in a well-worn leather pouch, which he hung proudly on his brand new belt.
As he sifted through the bandits' spoils, his attention was drawn to a battered silver ring that pulsed with an unfamiliar energy. A faint trace of mana seemed to emanate from it, but he couldn't quite figure out its power. Determined to find out, he concentrated all his focus on the ring, probing its secrets. But the more he tried to unravel its enigmatic power, the more perplexed he became. With a shrug, he decided to slip the mysterious ring onto his finger, eager to see what surprises it might hold.
Turning his attention to the armor pieces, Talax felt a sense of pride, he had won the battle and was now rewarded with the spoils of war. As he donned the leather bracers, he was impressed by the supple yet strong material. But when he tried on the greaves, he realized that they were a little too large for his frame, and he felt a twinge of disappointment. Despite his desire for protection, he knew that these oversized pieces would only hinder him in battle. So, reluctantly, he took them off and discarded them, resolving to find better-fitting armor in the future.
With his haul secured and his mind buzzing with excitement, Talax settled down to relax, closing his eyes and allowing his mana to flow through him. As he summoned his core, he felt a thrill of anticipation surge through his veins.
With a quick mental push, he opened two more gates. Mana flowed through the twisted knots, liberating the trapped mana, unleashing a torrent of mana that surged through every inch of his body.
He reached level 3!
He reached level 4!
He felt his muscles bulge and his senses sharpen. He could actually notice a perceptible difference in his body. With every level he felt like a different man, like he was turning into a better version of himself. When the rush finally subsided, he opened his eyes, marveling at the newfound strength that coursed through his very being.
His core looked much the same, a serene pool of blueish liquid. His skills though, had new additions.
Swordsmanship skill, level 1
1% to aim, 1% to damage
Dual wielding skill, level 1
1% to accuracy, 1% to damage
Requirement: short blades only
Talax was happy to see his new buds sprouting in his core, both skills were extremely valuable since his knives weren’t much of use in close combat. His short blades skill was more suited for stealth kills, when his targets were oblivious and vulnerable. Upon thinking about his silent kills, he inspected the rest of his skills.
Short blades skill, level 2
2% to attack, 2% blade penetration
Evasion skill, level 2
2% to reflexes, 2% to agility
Natural defense skill, level 3
3% to pain resistance, 3% to skin thickness
Stealth skill, level 3
3% to noise reduction, 3% to hiding
Athletics skill, level 2
2% to physical prowess, 2% to mobility
Battles seemed to be the quickest route for advancement, each time he faced an opponent, he was rewarded with more skills. Most of his combat skills had managed to gain a level, it was as if he was awarded for killing people. A cosmic joke to urge you into a senseless slaughter. Still, the thrill of combat was addictive, as if he were on a constant adrenaline high. He reveled in the sensation of his body becoming stronger and his mind sharper with each level up. As he gained more experience, he felt the tangible proof of his improvement.
He had gained two more skills, swordsmanship and dual wielding. He remembered how the sword had felt when he had first held it, like it was a slippery snake that wanted to get away. As time passed, the sensation had gradually subsided, and he came to the realization that it was likely a result of his newly acquired skill.
The dual wieldingskill was the only skill he had seen so far that had requirements. The fact that he had to use short swords didn’t bother him overly much. He wasn’t planning on wielding a great sword anytime soon, at least until he was sure he wouldn’t cut himself with it. During the battle his movements were stilted and awkward, but with time and practice, he knew he would become a master of the dual blades.
Despite the physical and mental toll of all these battles, Talax felt a sense of pride in himself. He had come so far, and he was becoming stronger with every passing day. After all the life and death situations, he was gaining valuable skills that would help him stay alive.
As he settled down to take a nap, Talax allowed himself a small smile. He was tired, yes, but he was also content. He knew that he had the skills to survive in this harsh and unforgiving world, he just had to work hard and constantly improve himself.
He woke up to the symphony of playful chirping birds. The sun was just rising, peeking through the dense foliage and casting a warm glow over the tranquil forest clearing. The air was thick with the scent of pine and damp earth, but the smell of fresh blood reached his nostrils reminding him of the previous night.
As he stood up, his weary body protested with a symphony of creaks and groans. His eyes widened in surprise as he watched the man, whom he had thought asleep, gracefully take out an intricately carved stool with a plush velvet pillow and sit down with a contented sigh. The man's every move was deliberate, elegant, and precise.
Then, to Talax's amazement, the man pulled out a small vial filled with a shimmering, diaphanous liquid. With a fluid motion, he poured it over his head, and the liquid seemed to flow down his body, leaving behind a trail of clean, unblemished skin. The dirt and dried blood that had once clung to his body were now nowhere to be found, as if they had been whisked away.
The man seemed to be lost in his own world, completely unaware of Talax's presence, as he proceeded to dress himself in the most exquisite of garments. A leather jerkin adorned with intricate patterns, knee-high boots as black as the night, a high collar shirt that looked like it had been crafted from the finest silk, and a luxurious burgundy velvet doublet. He was the epitome of sophistication and elegance, the embodiment of a nobleman.
Talax was mesmerized as he watched the man perform a series of hand gestures that conjured up a dazzling flash of light. In an instant, the light expanded until it had formed a crude rectangular and transformed into a mirror. The man inspected himself with utmost scrutiny, ironing out every imperfection with a precision that left Talax dumbfounded.
As he put away his comb encrusted with jewels after having placed every blonde strand into place, the man finally acknowledged Talax's presence with a courteous nod. "Oh, I didn't realize you had woken up. I will be with you in a minute." And with that, he resumed his meticulous grooming routine, leaving Talax in bewilderment.
“It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance, most honorable sir. I am Ferdinand the third, descendant of the Great Timius, lord of the west emerald plain of the kingdom of Altia,” the young man proclaimed with a pompous tone and bowed with a flourish before asking, "May I ask to whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?"
Talax looked at the young man as he strode with a regal air towards him to greet him. He appeared to be in his mid-twenties, his finely crafted clothing sparkling in the sunlight. His eyes were a piercing blue, and his blond hair was styled in a manner that spoke of both sophistication and power and the air of aristocracy was undeniable.
“Um, I am Talax,” he responded somewhat awkwardly.
“Oh, Master Talax, you have my deepest gratitude! If not for you and your overlarge friend, I would have joined Xesious in the underworld! Whatever you need, you may ask, for I am forever in your debt!”
Talax became uncomfortable from the man's gratitude and scratched his head, trying to find a suitable response. Before he could reply, Qalo decided to chime in.
“Food! We want food!” Talax facepalmed and released a pained groan. The noble man seemed surprised for a moment but then he beamed a brilliant smile and replied.
“Oh, but of course, my new friend! Before setting forth on my adventure, I had my cooks prepare several meals to facilitate my laborious undertaking. Here,” Ferdinand pulled out a platter with a roasted chicken and steamed vegetables that looked as if they were in the oven just a minute ago.
Qalo materialized in front of Ferdinand and swiped the platter, making the man grunt in surprise. Even Talax had trouble concentrating with the delicious smells assaulting his nostrils. Still, looking at Qalo munching a wing, bones and all, he had the urge to tease him a bit.
“You know Qalo, those crates over there are full of meat,” the half-orc looked at him with his mouth open, a piece of chicken clinging to his right tusk.
“What?! Why didn’t you tell me?” Talax responded with glee in his heart.
“I didn’t want to disturb you while you were meditating.” Qalo growled, swallowed the whole wing, and ran to the crates. He heard him laughing with wild abandon as he stuffed his mouth with the salted meat.
Talax turned to Ferdinand, who looked at the orc with equal measures of disgust and amazement.
“Well, we are thankful for the food, but what we would really like is to join your uncle's expedition,” the man looked at him in bewilderment, but his good manners showed when he smiled and bowed in agreement.
“Of course, my friend. It would be a privilege to have the company of two brave warriors such as yourselves. Let’s march on!” The young noble announced and began walking away, like he was marching to war. Talax looked at Qalo, who in turn looked at him with furrowed brows and a mouth full of meat.
“Um, excuse me for asking, but do you know where your uncle is?” The noble halted and looked back with an embarrassed smile.
“Not really, no.” Talax fought a smile and motioned for him to approach.
“Let’s eat first, and then we can discuss our next move.” The young man nodded and joined him. They sat on the ground and shared the big platter as Qalo made it his life's mission to empty the crates of their contents.