“Jeremy, what has riled the animals up?”
He decided not to answer Tracey’s whispered question as he closed his eyes and spread his hands to encompass the land. An extraordinarily-faint ripple pulsed out from his arms and spread over the fields of Morrigan-Home Vineyard.
“There’s someone running from the beasts.”
“A person? From outside? Or one of the other Vineyards?”
A set of booms sounded off from the path in.
Jeremy turned to count the members that had come outside once talks of an animal attack had picked up. The last few residents arrived as the echoes of the booms settled across the vineyard, the sound somewhat muted due to the overgrowth of plantlife.
He looked over those that had been trapped at this Vineyard, his vineyard; he remembered seeing many of them during the night before this all kicked off, during the wine tasting and group dinner he had presided over. He hadn’t known at the time that he would come to lead them, but it wasn’t an unreasonable assumption, after all, this was his vineyard.
He hadn't expected to be living through the 'Tribulation' of all things, but thankfully each day brought some new problem, or if he was lucky, some fresh horror. The animals were far from the only problem he was dealing with.
“Tracey, Mark, Vivianne, and Ron, could you stay with me? Everyone else, please head inside, you’ll be safe inside there!”
To another, Jon, he whispered, “Can you open a new barrel for everyone? I would prefer to not have panic.”
Jon eyed him and nodded genially, “Good idea. Are we going to invite him inside?”
“That remains to be seen. Choose any vintage… but one of the better ones.”
“Of course, no problem. Let me know if you need me, yeah?”
“Of course.”
Jeremy turned back to the smaller group, minus Jon, it was what had formed as his inner circle.
“Well? Everyone ready to meet him?”
Ron nodded, straw blonde hair starting to grow a tad long for his own tastes, eyes firm and hands gripping a pitchfork until the long wood-handle creaked.
Tracey sent a cold grin toward Jeremy and hefted her own small concealed carry Sig into a more comfortable grip, her dirty blonde hair starting to show roots. Distasteful, he would have to talk to her about that.
Mark, always somewhat of a slovenly person, looked relaxed but ready, loosely holding a set of long butcher knives that had been long since looted from the main kitchen. Vivi-
“Him? It’s a guy?”
“Vivi, if you wouldn’t mind?”
“I didn’t mean it that way!”
He sent a flat look Vivianne’s way, unconsciously directing everyone to give her flat looks in turn. Her cheeks filled with a fierce flush.
“Ah yes, umm sorry. What’s his status then?”
“He’s armed, obviously. So either he’ll make it here, or he’ll be dead. It shouldn’t be more than a minute if the animals haven’t gotten-”
Another set of booms sounded out, followed by loud yips.
Ron scowled and his hands twisted around the half of the pitchfork, “Shit, the coyotes are back.”
The figure became visible through the overgrown vines that lined the road.
There was a snap, “Is anyone else reading his shirt?”
Ron grunted, “You know we can’t see as well as you.”
Tracey dismissed the conjured lens and laughed , “You’ll see.”
----------------------------------------
I turned the last bend and took in the group of 5 waiting in front of the overly designed vineyard building. They were armed. I looked back at the swarm of animals. They too, in their own ways, were armed. I pumped my arms as I held my shotgun, struggling to maintain my speed. My endurance was significantly better than it had ever been, but I was still carrying all my crap stuff and fighting as I sprinted the last near-mile.
“Watch out!”
Dammit, they weren’t moving. I didn’t know if they were friendly, but since I did know that the herd behind me was definitely not friendly, that simplified the math for me.
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
I squinted my eyes as I tried to hear him better but my breath was hot and loud in my ears, my feet scraped rocks and dirt together, the animals behind baying for my life. I kept up my pace, then added some extra sugar on it as I dug further into my resolve. It was a small boost, barely noticeable except for the fact that I also felt my Fortitude drop a point as I did. That was a thing?
I could finally make out the words one of them was shouting, “I welcome you as a guest to my land! Do you accept its privileges and rights alongside its obligations?”
In my sprinting-addled mind, it didn’t make a lot of sense. What I did notice is that none of the others seemed to be making a move to stop me or assist. Useless.
I approached the base of the hill up to them and kept raising my feet and planting them down, one after another. The one guy kept repeating that line in intervals, what the hell? Clearly I wanted to be a guest.
A series of birds dashed through the air, blurring out of sight to dive bomb me and knock me off balance. I bounced back and smacked into a… barrier? It bounced me off to the ground like I hit a brick wall and I scrambled up, shotgun raised and let loose two blasts that ripped through the massed animals. I dropped it, then started pulling at my baseball bat. I couldn’t get it in hand fast enough, I abandoned the thought and drew my sword then raised my shield.
I kicked and sent a gopher spinning into the trees. A fox’s mouth opened and a stream of fire came out, I jumped to the side and slashed at its face with my sword, but it managed to jump backwards before I was forced to raise up my shield to block a fresh stream of semi-teleporting dive bombing birds. What I was pretty sure was a shrew bit onto my ankle but before I could do anything to dislodge it, it was speared through by a pitchfork.
“I welcome you as a guest to my land! Do you accept its privileges and rights alongside its obligations?”
What the fuck, that again?
“Yes, yes I accept.”
I fell backwards as the barrier behind my back disappeared. For an instant, I was looking up at 5 people looking down on me. I scrambled up to bring my eyes back to the animal swarm. The late approaches were pulling off to the side and disappearing into the overgrown vineyard… trees.
A few animals fruitlessly clawed at clear-air that lit up small sections of some sort of translucent dome.
The fox I had missed with my stab was trying to pull away my shotgun. I drew my revolver then charged back out, pumping three rounds at it, hitting with two. It dropped my shotgun as it tried to limp away before I speared the tip of my sword through its eye.
“Sneaky bastard.”
I snatched it then ran back behind the barrier. Thankfully, the five seemed to have backed off a bit. I decided that I didn’t like being crowded.
There was, what was obviously, the ‘main guy’. He had a pistol, undrawn, and seemed like a haughty WASP-y type but still, despite the douchery, the guy exuded class. There was another woman, actually holding her pistol, blonde, same shitty WASP-y look to her, though with a bit too clever of a smirk. Another guy, a big one and holding a pitchfork, presumably the one who had helped me with the shrew that was biting my ankle. That was confirmed as my eyes trailed across the blood on the tip of one of the oversized prongs. Then another dude that looked like a straight creep, early stages of balding and was doing so very ungracefully, holding two big cleavers. Gave me ‘rouge/serial killer’ vibes right off the bat. Then the last woman, a small asian girl? Woman, and maybe part asian. Difficult to tell as she kind of hid behind the group. Nothing else came to mind when looking at her. Digging a bit deeper, the most I could say was that she looked shy. Those were the only impressions I had time to gather before I realized that I had just been hardcore studying the group of them, in silence, for the last… however long.
Great first impression, Tom.
I saw the group’s eyes take in the sight of me, definitely sharing some of the hesitant curiosity.
“How may we help you, Sir… Knight?”
“How do you know that?” Awesome. I was just really nailing the friendly wanderer act in spades today.
He looked like he wasn’t going to answer, but I was ready to visit violence on whatever fresh bullshit might have been digging around inside of his skull. Apparently it was true, people can tell when you were right on the edge between ‘fuck around’ and ‘find out’, and he didn’t want to find out. He recovered well. Still, something sat funny in my gut, though being on the tail end of a massive animal ambush had my nerves edgy, so it was hard to tell what was what.
“My class is Tier 1, ‘Young Master of the Winos’,” as he swept his arms through the vineyard, “I can tell anyone’s class and level who enters my Lands and you’re a Tier 2 ‘Ghetto-Hedge Knight’, level 5. Quite powerful.”
Fuck you Gabby, I cringed at the actual name of my class. I had been successful in not having to deal with that from the moment I had received it very early this morning. I didn’t know if it was the apocalypse or what, but time had really been crawling for me, less than two weeks and I was already getting desperate for a day off. No TGIF in the apocalypse.
I could tell that he emphasized his last two words, ‘quite powerful’, for the benefit of a few of his companions whose grins slowly stopped and froze just before reaching outright chuckles at the name of my class.
If I opened it and my level went higher than 5, then I’d have final confirmation that my level was locked until I opened my status. Otherwise, I was clearly leveling without any indication that that was the case. I hadn’t opened my screen in a bit but him being able to read that would be helpful. It didn’t mean that I particularly liked it however
“Di-” I didn’t want to be checking my Status, here of all places. Not the time to get glassy eyed.
“Hey, I’m Tom. It’s good to meet you…” What was his class called? “Young Master…” Then I took a shot in the dark, “Morrigan?”
His eyes lit up, “How did you know?”
I shrugged, “Lucky guess.”
He didn’t seem to have any burning desire to continue the conversation so I plugged a long salty sip from my bladder and thought. Could I take these people? The lady with the gun might be a problem, he had a gun as well, but what are the odds that they even have bullets left? This is a winery in the middle of a slew of wineries.
Not likely, especially with all that’s gone on. I internally sighed and Duck’s words flowed into my conscious mind from some deep recess, try to be nice.
“Thanks for letting me in, that barrier’s pretty handy. Something to do with your class?” It was an obvious question, and ideally it would help break the ice.
“Yes, I can keep out uninvited guests, at least for a period of time.”
I tried to chuckle good-naturedly, “Sounds pretty OP.”
The main guy laughed, “Well, it’s not invincible, but, it’s the apocalypse, I can’t complain. Now that you’re a proper guest, would you care to come inside and have some wine?”
I grinned, “Thought you’d never ask.”