“Okay, ‘My statuses’ it will be. I never liked to say HUD anyway.”
“Let me finish your left side, Arrjee. With my statuses up, I can probably tell you exactly how many HP I healed.”
He looks at me oddly. “I bet it will be three HP.”
I roll my eyes at myself. He has his own statuses. It’s funny and I laugh at myself. Aloud, “I bet you are right.”
I heal him. It took eight ki, not six. There must be a roundoff error with the 50% efficiency of my Heal Other. It is going to be very useful to know these actual numbers. I was always a numbers guy in games that allowed you to track them.
Uncle Ralf asks, “Do you two want to actually spar some, both of you attacking and defending at the same time?”
“I’d love to, if Forrest still feels like it. I have a lot of energy to go!”
“Yes, that sounds fun. It might well hurt like hell, too, but I chose a warrior class. I should expect pain. Just so you know, I fought very little in my old world. There were a few altercations in bars when one of the patrons became more inebriated than smart, but that is about it. I know I will need a lot of training and practice. I am not asking you to go easy on me. Instead please do not laugh too hard.”
A voice speaks in my head. “Pity you did not place a wager on that bet. Are you going to tell him you lost?”
Crap, I must already have Skawa’s notice. I do not know how to address a god. I think, “Uh, most noble one, I am unworthy of your attention.”
“Skip the obeisance. Say what you want. It would be rude to smite you on your first day.”
I think that was a joke. This god might be likable. “Okay. I did not realize my brother and I had made an actual bet. The wording, to me, was merely an expression. But with your clarification, I will inform Arrjee. Can I ask how I got your attention? It can’t be from just a few meaningless words, can it?”
“Do not trivialize the power of a bet. But to answer you, the arrival of an unborn awakened interests many of us, and you appeared to be extra original. I have been observing off and on. When I learned that you would be on Heere for hundreds of years, and not here too, well, that is new, and we do not see the truly new very often. Do not worry. You will not find us to be evil, if any of the others interact with you at all. My main purpose in speaking to you is to let you know to relax. Heere is a fine world. Now get on with living.”
Arrjee asks, “What are you telling your interface now?”
I can imagine how I must have looked for the past few seconds. “It was not my interface. Skawa was speaking with me, and I believe he is still watching. First, I must tell you that I lost our bet. I would have said I healed four of your hit points.”
“He came here for that? I say I bet things all the time, not actually wagering.”
“He has been interested in me as an awakened, likely beginning soon after I arrived. He realizes I am different, with my long absences to come, and longer life span. My guess is he got involved not because of what you said about a bet, but because I acknowledged and accepted it. This must have made it ‘real’ somehow. Failing to tell you I lost must have come too close to cheating in his eyes.”
Mom asks, “And now he is going to prank you? That is not fair.”
Which probably should have been phrased differently.
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We all hear an angry, resonating voice respond to her. “You dare think I would act unfairly? I prank whom and when I desire. Who are you, honorable wolf? Let us find out.”
Suddenly, Arjee, Rhetta, and I are about 30 feet from a wooded road. We are all wearing leather armor, covering our necks on down. We have leather boots that are open in the front, obviously to clear our lower claws for battle. We have no gloves, also keeping our claws free. Arrjee is bearing a real sword and Rhetta, a small shield with a nasty spike in the center. Apparently I must be expected to use only my martial arts.
A brown window pops up. That’s new.
Quest: save the family (0/3)
Reward: feeling of accomplishment, armor
Do you accept?
I look ahead at the road and notice an adult male Human, bloodied and quite possibly seriously injured. There are two children huddled behind him in a small cart, and two creatures ahead. He is bearing a scythe. These might be zebors, the wolverine-like pack animals which killed Rina’s mother. Two seems less than a pack, but that’s not the issue right now.
I think, “Hell yes, I accept.” the brown window goes away. I have no idea how I am going to fight zebors, but I’m not going to stand by watching kids die.
Rhetta, Mom, commands, “Boys, stand beside the children in case one of the zebors circles around. I’ll support their father at the front.”
Arrjee and I rush forward, accepting our task without hesitation. Mom casts an energy bolt at one of the zebors, before running forward. It lands at its hindquarters as she also is rushing forward. She got that one’s attention easily, taking pressure off the man.
Arrjee and I reach the kids, and he continues to the far side of them, sword ready. I would have taken a stance if I knew one, but as it was I just hunched down a little. Mom fires at the same zebor, hitting it in the neck. Like I have heard about wolverines, it did not run off, but ferociously faced Mom, getting ready to pounce.
The second zebor saw a defender without a weapon or shield, and headed towards me. Wonderful, he is going to attack the new guy. Arrjee sees this and joins me on the side of the cart nearest the road. I hope I look as confident as he, but I’m almost certain I don’t. The zebor leaps at me, gashing the side and back of my head. It misses my ear, but hurts like hell. Arrjee swings, cutting it in a glancing blow on its side.
Just as I start turning around to face our zebor, I see the man swing his scythe at his zebor’s neck. He misses it, but hits it hard on what I assume is its collarbone. Mom zaps it again, in the face this time. As it is temporarily stunned or confused, she jabs her shield at it, and the spike gets it in the side.
Once turned around, I see Arrjee already engaging with our own monster. I take the opportunity to ready an open-fisted ki punch to its side, putting everything I can into it. I managed to hit, but it was a glancing blow. Still, I earned another yelp and probably more hate. It jumped at my legs, managing to land a really solid slash from the middle of my outer thigh down to below my knee. It tore through my armor, and again it hurts badly – almost as much as the realization I haven’t thought to activate Dodge. Shit.
Arrjee then helpfully exclaims, “Use your Dodge, Forrest!” It would have been nice if he had reminded me several seconds ago, but I can’t blame him for not comprehending how whelming this all is for his newbie brother. I look at him and nod in acknowledgement.
I hear the other zebor growl and yelp in rage, and I know Mom or the man have hit theirs again. I hope it was serious.
Arrjee manages to stab ours into its stomach, earning us the same level of rage. It is facing us, and I activate Dodge. Moving forward as I push ki into my hand, all the way to my claws. I hope this works. I poke at its face, index finger extended out from my fist. I aim for an eye with my claw. And my ki “punch” hits, as intended. It yelps, squealing, and falls over and stops moving.
The other zebor is quiet. I hope both of them are dead.
“What was that move?!” Arjie asks in complete surprise. “It looks like you may have penetrated into its brain. I’m amazed you managed to hit it like that.”
Honestly, so am I. Mom loudly tells us to make sure it is dead. Arrjee takes his sword and stabs it where I expect its heart would be. If it wasn’t dead before, it is now. We turn around, and see that the other is well dead also. The kids have run to their father, hugging him and crying.
He hugs them back, and tells Mom, “Postwolf Silverstone, I cannot thank you enough for saving my children. Young wolves, I thank you also. What brought you to this place and time, I do not know. Thank the gods for this miracle.”
Well, one minor god, but he is absolutely accurate in giving the thanks.
Up pops the brown window.
Quest complete (3/3). Charmed armor rewarded.
I don’t know how charmed this armor is, but the feeling of accomplishment I have is every bit as valuable. I am guessing if we had failed the quest, some or all of the armor would have vanished, depending on how many we saved.
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
I see that Arrjee has received a gash to his sword hand, and Mom got scratched in the face. The man is the most seriously injured of us all. He had no armor, and had been gashed and bitten deeply numerous times.
I approach the man. His children challenge me with their eyes. I say, “Sir, we are pleased to have been of service. I see you have some serious wounds, and I have a limited ability to heal. I can only heal one area at a time, and I must touch near an injury. Where would you like me to heal first?”
My statuses show I have 75 ki left, so I could not heal him completely. But anything I can do is better than nothing.
His children stare at him, I think telling him with their eyes to accept my offer. They are all wearing simple shirts, pants, and sandals.
My Mom interjects, “Forrest, before you do that, take care of yourself before you faint from blood loss. Sir – I do not know you, though you know of me – but would there be some clean rags or something in your cart that could be used as bandages?”
“Oh, my apologies, Postwolf. I am Hesta Blakeman, and these are my children Herma and Bob. I know of you because I have seen you on your rounds in River.”
Bob? Really? And a village named “River”. Of course.
“Yes, there are some clean cotton linens we were taking to market. You are free to use whatever you can.”
Arrjee goes to grab some, while Mom continues the introductions. “I am Rhetta Silverstone, and these are my sons Arrjee and Forrest.”
He looks at us, and I am sure he realizes we are not biological brothers. He politely avoids saying so, however. Herma and Bob say, almost in unison, “Thank you Rhetta Silverstone. We were so scared! Thank you Forrest, thank you Arrjee.” Except Bob reversed Forrest and Arrjee.
Arrjee obtained a bedsheet. He starts a cut with his sword and tears off a long strip. “I’ll wrap this around your head after you take off your boots and leggings. Then I will bandage your leg. Sorry, I did not bring my loincloth.” He grins, as everyone else gives him a strange look. They do not know the context, but I do and grin back through my pain.
Then I did as instructed and sat my ass on the ground. Beneath the leather armor was a soft cloth undergarment, possibly full-body. My legs are forward, with my injured one lifted up slightly to avoid dirt and allow bandages to wrap around. Arrjee gets to work bandaging.
I say, “Hesta Blakeman, could you come sit next to me? I think I can begin healing you. Let me know where you are most seriously injured.”
Arrjee adds, “He heals using ki. He has to hold his hand near an injury, and then he can accelerate your hit point regeneration. It feels amazing. He has healed me multiple times now.”
Hesta hobbles over and sits, his left side several inches forward of my right. His children watch from where they stand. I’m glad he has decided to trust me. I see a huge gash on his lower back, reaching his side. It is still heavily bleeding. I’m surprised he could stand. Adrenaline, maybe?
“I think this painful wound on my back needs the most attention.”
While Arrjee completes bandaging my head, I place my hand on the far side of his gash, about two inches before it ends. I push my ki and healing thoughts, and I soon see over half of the wound heal over. It took about 5 seconds and 40 of my ki.
“I am sorry, Sir, that took over half of my remaining ki. I may not be able to finish healing this wound, but I’ll do as much as I can.”
“Sorry?! This is an amazing thing you do, Forrest. I am very grateful. Please call me Hesta.” Raising his voice slightly, “All of you.”
Herma, a girl probably about eight years old and definitely a smartass, says “Alright Hesta”. I cannot see, but I imagine he is giving her the look, rolling his eyes like a teenager on Earth. She grins at him.
Moving my hand over the other end of his gash, I start healing again. It completes in 4 seconds, using 32 ki and leaving me with 3. “That’s all I’ve got, Hesta. We’ll get the rest of your wounds bandaged up.”
For no apparent reason, Bob, a boy of about 6, shouts out, “Hesta! Hesta! Hesta!”. He is smiling at his father and laughing.
“Wouldn’t you both rather have me be your Dad than some guy named Hesta?” After a few seconds of thought, both kids nod affirmatively.
“My thanks to you, young Forrest. Even though I have multiple other wounds, I feel oddly energized.”
Arrjee smiles as he readies to bandage my leg. “I know, right? I never heard of anyone healing with ki before, but it is the best!”
I notice that Hesta still has a nasty bleeding bite just below his left elbow, reminding me of the much more minor wound Arrjee had experienced when we first met. “Arrjee, please tear me a piece of that sheet big enough to fold over several times and still encompass the palm of my hand.” He looks at me curiously, knowing it will delay the bandaging of my leg. “Please, you can get back to my leg next.”
He cuts and tears off the piece I requested and hands it to me. I instruct Hesta to raise his left arm above his head. He does so, but in obvious pain. I fold over the cloth and reach up to Hesta’s wound. As I am reaching up to apply the compress to the wound, I tell him, “This is a way to minimize any more bleeding from that arm. I’m going to apply pressure right over the wound. It probably will hurt a little, but the more blood we keep in you, the better.”
I commence doing so. Arrjee adds, “That goes for you too, dumbass.”
With Arrjee also bandaging my raised leg, we three are in an awkward position, but we manage. After about 30 seconds, a blue window pops up.
Learned skill: First Aid, D
Nice, Rank D even! I knew first aid a lot better than meditation and running, so it makes sense that it is starting higher.
Just then, Mom comes up and takes over my direct pressure on Hesta’s wound. This allows us more natural positions. “Thanks, Mom. Just continue to firmly hold the compress over the wound. We can bandage it tightly in place in a couple minutes, once the blood realizes that it is too much of a bother to push up above his heart. Then Hesta can bring his arm down.”
----------------------------------------
Just then we hear a voice call from behind us. “Are you people alright?”
We turn our heads and see three uniformed horsemen, military or guards of some sort, approaching us. Not horses, exactly, but close enough. They are a male and female Covargh and a male Human. Arrjee goes back to bandaging, unconcerned.
Hesta replies, “Well met, guardsmen. We are a lot better than we were just minutes ago. My two young children and I were traveling between villages when we were approached by two zebors. My horse panicked, broke its reins, and ran off. The zebors chose to attack us instead of running after the horse. All I had to defend us was a scythe, but that would not have been enough. Thank the gods for this Covargh family who appeared as if from nowhere. With their assistance, we were able to defeat both zebors. As you can see, we are recovering from the battle now.”
We must look quite the story – me sitting on my barely-dressed butt, Arrjee wrapping a long strip of sheet around my slightly lifted, still bleeding leg, and Mom holding Hesta’s arm in the air.
The female guard responds to Hesta, not commenting on the sight before her. “Well met to you all. We are part of the duchy’s guard attached to a squad of nine. We had been hunting the pack of zebors. We found them and engaged. Only five of the pack were grouped there, and we knew there to be seven. The three of us went to find the missing two. I believe those you encountered must have been scouting. It seems they found what they thought to be easy prey. Those heads will earn you a bounty from the Duchess, and their well-tanned hides will fetch a pretty copper besides.”
My mother joins the conversation. “Well met guardsmen, well met Asha Yon.”
The Human nods. They clearly know each other. The female guard interrupts, instructing Asha and the other guard to go back to their squad to help if necessary. Then bring their wagon and an extra horse once the other zebors are down. Captain Pokka also.
Mom continues, “Let me make introductions. The gentleman is Hesta Blakeman, with his children Herma and Bob. I am Postwolf Rhetta Silverstone, and these are my sons, Arrjee and Forrest.” We nod our heads in turn. “We thought it unfair to let such a fine Ninethday pass indoors, so we found ourselves hiking in this area. When we came upon the brave battle in which Hesta was engaged, we could not do but help.”
I saw what you did, Mom. I’m betting Skawa thinks it is as cleverly phrased as I had. Clearly he had not meant to cause us an evil prank, but give us an opportunity to help. He called her “honorable wolf”, and I’m sure she now realizes he meant it.
I hear a mental whisper. “You win that bet, and I did indeed. The rest of your family knows you are all safe and that two of you will return tomorrow. Enjoy the remainder of your first day upon Heere.” Then he is gone, like a vanished silence.
The female guard dismounts and introduces herself. “I am Wern Ograth, and the other Covargh is my husband, Nirran Ograth. Asha Yon was already introduced. What may I do that would be of immediate assistance? The others should return shortly.”
Mom answered, “My son Forrest can heal, and he took care of a nasty gash along Hesta’s back. But he ran out of ki, so we have been making due with bandaging the rest of our injuries. I believe Arrjie sustained a slight injury to his hand and my face was scratched.“ Looking over at them, “Herma and Bob, are you injured in any way?”
Herma replies, “No, Rhetta Silverstone. The beasts never made it to our cart. We were really scared, though, but not injured.”
Wern looks puzzled. “Ki?”
Minor gods, I may be the only person in the duchy who heals with ki. I reply, “Yes, Wern Ograth. My secondary class is ki healer. Its Heal Other skill is only Rank E, and I am only Level 1, so I burned through my ki reserves quickly.”
Hesta responds, “Quickly it may have been, Forrest, but I attest to its value.”
He still holds his arm in the air, with Mom still applying pressure. “Mom, lessen the pressure on the compress and see if you can tell if the blood flow has dampened. If you think it has, he can lower his arm and we can get it bandaged.”
“For one so young, you seem very knowledgeable, Forrest.”
My Mom soon has Hesta drop his arm and take over the compress with his free hand. Wern tears a strip from the sheet and readies herself to bandage it in place.
“My son is an unborn awakened, just arrived today. Arrjee encountered him in the woods this morning. He brought him home to speak with my awakened mother, and it did not take long to realize he would be a valued member of our family.”
“Well met, Forrest Silverstone. May I inquire as to your primary class?”
My Mom has been very open and trusting. So, “Certainly, I have nothing to hide.” (Except for being immortal and all.)
“My primary is martial arts. It is ki based, I had exposure to healing skills in my last world, I wanted healing capabilities in my next life as well. In the void, I informed my interface that I would like to be a martial artist who heals. I had been Human so I asked to be something different, a Covargh hybrid. I did not actually know about this race yet since my planet only had Humans. My specific request was to become a ‘wolfman-man’.” Everyone has a good laugh at that.
“My interface paused a minute or so, apparently verifying that what I asked for was doable. It was, and here I am on Heere.”
I am beginning to think ki based healing is not very common. That might have been part of Interface’s delay in proposing this build.
Arrjee had finished bandaging my leg by then. “My brother, the wolfman-man. That explains a lot!” There was more laughter.
Wern finishes the bandage on Hesta’s arm. I say that he needs to watch it and make sure the bleeding remains stopped. Ideally we would wait for a medical team to take over, but that team would seem to be me.
The rest of our wounds were treated as best we could, and the sun began to set. About that time, we heard a wagon and horses. We turned and saw the remaining platoon of eight guards, a large covered wagon being pulled by two horses, and two unridden horses. The latter were reined to the rear of the wagon.
One of the guards dismounts and approaches Wern. He is accompanied by two large wolves. A tamer or druid maybe? “I heard and see you have injured citizens.”
Wern responds, “Yes, Captain Pokka. The four here all have various degrees of injuries. The two young children were fortunate and escaped injury.”
The Human captain is between my parents’ and grandmother’s age. He asks us to stay together for a moment, then he moves near us to cast a spell. The wolves stay where they were. I can feel that he casts a healing aura, and the vague scintillation encompasses all of us near him. Wern backs away, not wanting to waste any of his magic on her.
“This will not heal all your wounds, but it should suffice to make the trip to our barracks less stressful. I used up most of my magic in our battle with the zebors.” The aura ends after about 12 seconds.
I observe that Arrjee’s hand is almost completely healed. My leg feels a lot better, but still stings intensely. Mom, probably no longer scratched, thanks the captain for all of us, and introduces everyone. The captain introduces himself as Randolf Pokka and says we can have mutual introductions with the other guards on the way back. It is not wise to spend too much time on this road in the darkening night.
I redon my leather leggings and boots. The leggings button at the top. The rip along the one leg may have shrunk, and the tear is no longer bloody. Charmed, check.