The journey to Gruoch was uneventful, save for the aimless and sporadic rain that showered us along the way.
I expected to have encountered some unique beasts or exotic species, maybe just a group of bandits or something of the like. But there was nothing. The few creatures we passed were the woodland animals that lived in the Miodóg. Mostly birds, small critters, and deer.
As we galloped along, there was an unusually large stag that skirted along the edge of the road for a time, keeping pace with us. It had a reddish coat with white speckles throughout and a magnificent set of moss-covered antlers that branched out from its head. It seemed to be traveling alone. It moved alongside us for an hour or so before breaking away as we crossed the bridge over the river.
I absorbed everything with fascination. This land seemed almost magically infused with beauty. The immense forest we were moving through appeared to go on forever, with tall, elegant tree trunks filling the vast expanse of greenery. The leaves overhead canopied the road and continued into the distance of the path, creating a wonderfully cozy environment. In any direction I looked, the wilderness stretched out forever, like a never ending ocean of trees and grass.
Even being stuck behind the strange Shaman Berieal didn’t mute the effect of the environment. The lochan would periodically look over his shoulder at me but not say anything.
Watch the road, will you?
Suddenly, Tibbets and Anubis, in the lead, stopped dead, their mounts rigid as well.
That doesn’t seem good.
“What’s—” I started, but was interrupted.
Out of the underbrush emerged grotesque creatures, the likes of which I'd never seen before. Tibbets's voice rang out.
"Bananach!"
“What the hell?!” I roared.
These things were about two feet tall, resembling some twisted fusion of children and satyrs. Their bodies were gnarled and wiry, covered in a mishmash of fur that seemed both coarse and matted. Little horns, sharp and curved, jutted out from their disproportionately large heads. The most chilling feature, though, were their eyes—glowing a deep, malevolent red, fixated on us with unmistakable hostility. They leaped around with unnatural agility, their movements jerky and erratic, all the while screeching in high-pitched tones, "Blood for blood!"
It was goddamn demented!
"Shit,” Kellmen hissed. “I didn't realize there'd been a battlefield so close."
“There’s not many,” Iam said. “It’ll be fine.”
Despite his attempt to downplay the situation, a sense of dread crept over me.
I felt my body freeze, panic setting in. My hands started to fidget, and for a moment, I thought about turning and running. Get yourself under control, dude! I chastised myself. But that overwhelming urge to flee kept pushing at me. Just as the panic threatened to overwhelm me, Berieal grabbed me, his grip firm and reassuring.
"Be calm," he said quietly.
Then, with a fluid motion, the Shaman raised his hands and began chanting.
“Òran na talmhainn,
Sguab às na suinn bho fheòil,
Gabh an t-sleagh romham!”
It sounded ancient, powerful. The soil responded to his call. Beneath the bananach, the ground erupted in turmoil, and thick vines shot up, entangling the creatures in their grasp.
Seizing the opportunity, Tibbets and Anubis started firing their bows. Each arrow seemed to fly true, striking down the bananach with ruthless efficiency. In mere moments, all but one of the creatures were downed.
The last bananach, however, had its sights set on me. It leaped towards me with a screech that chilled my blood. “BLOOD FOR BLOOOOOOD!”
“Gahhh!” I screamed right back.
Just as it was about to collide with me, Berieal stepped in. His hand, glowing with an otherworldly flame, snatched the creature right out of the air. The bananach erupted into flames upon his touch, its screams piercing the air before being abruptly silenced.
As I caught my breath, I looked at Berieal, my heart still pounding in my chest. His calm demeanor in the face of such monstrosities was both astounding and terrifying. All of them, really, had seemed hardly bothered by the whole event. Berieal gave me a nonchalant nod and then turned back to lead Horsey forward to follow the others.
“That…that kind of stuff just happens?!” I demanded.
“Yes, Master Vale,” Anubis said. “The bananach haunt battlefields. There are many on the road to Gruoch.”
“Battlefields?” I wondered.
“PVP Battles, basically,” Kellmen clarified. “Bananach will be around for up to forty-eight hours following one, depending on the size. They’re more of a nuisance than anything else, but hell, if you’re alone and low-Level…”
He turned back to me and smiled.
“Well, you’re not alone, so there you have it.”
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“Yeesh,” I said. “Alright, alright, good to know, then.”
And so, we went back to our journey.
—
We raced along the path, tramping through mud, muck, and mushy grass for almost two hours before Kellmen called the men to a halt. He held his hand up, and everyone slowed to a stop. Iam was posted up furthest away, his eyes searching up and down the road as if expecting something to attack.
“Alright, guys,” the Guildmaster said.
“Malicious Intent’s secondary Guild Hall is in Gruoch, so be on your guard for reciprocation considering Anubis spanked their dumb asses earlier.”
He removed a clinking pouch from his waist. Then he hefted the bag and tossed it to my loveable pup, who caught it deftly.
“Anubis, take Tibbets and get Master Vale some gear. Simple for now, ‘til we get a chance to see what he’s working with.”
Anubis beamed and looked over at me.
“Absolutely, Guildmaster!”
Tibbets, ever-smiling, nodded.
“You got anything in specific in mind, boss?”
Kellmen shook his head.
“Just get him enough to fill a couple of the gear slots, and maybe a decent weapon.” He winked at me.
“Oh, and meet us at The Anvilhead when you’re done.”
“On it, boss!” Tibbets said, and then lowered his eyes at Anubis.
“Race ya!” he shouted, and before Anubis could respond, he had spurred his pony at a run down the road ahead.
Anubis turned to look at me proudly and flicked his head after Tibbets.
“Watch me, Master Vale. I’m going to win.” He removed a handful of coins from the pouch and tossed the leather sack back to Kellmen, who refastened it to his belt.
All I wanted to do was tell him to stick close to me. I’d just found him, and I didn’t enjoy the thought of him racing off somewhere dangerous. I wanted to say no.
“Go get him, buddy,” I said instead.
Cool it, man. Don’t let your own anxiousness get the better of you.
Anubis shot off. I watched as his tiny black-and-white body bounced with the sway of the gallop before they disappeared beyond our line of sight into the trees. He may have been right, his pony was quick and was readily gaining on Tibbets’.
“So, are we not going into the town?” I asked.
Kellmen reigned his horse in and led it off to a smaller path through the trees that I hadn’t noticed before.
“We are going to go to the East Gate. It’s a bit more relaxed over there, and the guards are more willing to turn a blind eye for a couple of coins.” He saw my look and smiled sheepishly.
“Malicious Intent is the largest Guild in Gruoch, even if it’s just a satellite Hall. So if any of the guards let them know we are here, it’ll be annoying. I’d rather not give away our whereabouts.”
“Will Anubis and Tibbets be okay?” I asked, looking back nervously down the road where they’d disappeared.
“Don’t worry about them,” Berieal said, bumping me with his elbow, “Tibbets is an expert at being unnoticed, and Anubis has a very likable quality about him.” He attempted a wink, but his eyelid didn’t close all the way and just shuddered. It did not put me at ease. Then he dismounted.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“We can’t take the horses this way, so we will have to walk,” Kellmen said, dismounting as well.
“So what, are we just going to leave them?”
Berieal laughed.
“No.” He said simply, and then tugged on my sleeve.
“Get off.”
I rolled my eyes and slid down carefully. When I was on the ground, Berieal stepped up to his horse and patted it on the face.
“Bye-bye, Horsey.” He said, and the horse disappeared.
“What the hell?” I said and watched as the others did the same, their mounts seemingly evaporating.
“Mounts can be summoned and dismissed at will,” Kellmen said, flicking through his open Menu, “unless you’re in town or in a Red Zone.”
Then, realizing he’d need to educate me further, he continued. Iam and Berieal had begun moving down the narrow trail, much more relaxed than they were before.
“Red Zones are contested areas. Kind like a Player Versus Player territory. That’s why we had to leave them back aways, when we first found you.”
“I see,” I said, “so this isn’t a Red Zone I take it?”
“No, it’s under the awning of Gruoch’s Settings. Certain cities, towns, and villages have different levels of protection for players. Gruoch is Green for all Levels since it’s a right outside of a starting zone and is one of the first towns that a lot of adventurers in the area go to.”
He made his way down the pathway, and I followed as well.
“So, are there some cities that are Red Zones?” I asked, pushing an overhanging branch out of my way. That idea was terrifying. The branch snapped back as I passed, and thankfully no one was behind me. It seemed physics still worked like usual here.
“Huh…well, I dunno. Probably, but if there are, they’d be rare,” Kellmen said, using a small knife to cut some of the brush out of his way, “most larger cities are Yellow, meaning that players can participate in duels and contests within its confines, where they might be required to attack each other, but can’t outright kill. I imagine it’s also good, so you can’t get bloody revenge on a swindling shopkeeper.”
Kellmen stepped over a fallen log, and I also did, but I couldn’t help noticing how detailed it was. There were myriad bugs and worms crawling in the shadow of the downed tree, and I was tempted to pick them up just to see how they’d react. I considered that I might not ever get used to how strange everything felt.
“Of course, most Inns are safe houses,” Kellmen continued, “It’s the strict policy that no PVP combat can happen in the resting side of an Inn. That way, it’s unlikely you’ll get attacked in your sleep. However, if the Inn has a tavern, they might mix it up a little, because things can be rowdy.”
“So, you can’t get in a tavern brawl?” I asked, a little disappointed. That seemed like a bummer.
“Oh, you definitely can!” Berieal exclaimed, turning back to look at us.
“Yeah, most taverns are Orange Zones, so a lot of people use that to their advantage to settle disputes after a few drinks. You can bruise people up, even draw a little blood, but it’s all part of non-lethal damage.”
“So…what’s the difference between Yellow and Orange?” I asked, considering. “They sound pretty much the same.”
“Rules!” Berieal exclaimed. I looked at Kellmen for clarification.
“Yellow is designated, essentially. Strict protocol for establishing and participating in the duels and what not. Orange is just basically like a bowling lane with one of the bumpers removed. You don’t have to qualify a duel—you can just start swinging.”
“It’s delightful!” Berieal continued, humming something tuneless.
“Cool!” I said. I liked the idea of the plucky group of adventurers being able to get in a considerable bar melee. It really resonated with my fantasy sensibilities. Everyone fell silent after that, perhaps lost in thought. I definitely was.
I couldn’t help but think about Lina. I was ashamed that I’d spent so much time absorbed in this new world and not being worried for her. What was wrong with me? I needed to stay focused on what was important.
Finding Lina.
Had she learned these rules? According to Anubis, it had been months here, and I hoped that she had. Oddly, I was scared that she’d be attacked again, but if her first day was anything like mine, that was a foregone conclusion. My anxiety started to raise its hackles again, and I endeavored to take deep breaths and try to calm down. My vision felt tight and narrow, my personal telltale sign of a panic attack.
I was damned if I did and damned if I didn’t. If I worried about Lina, I’d feel the intense heat of anxiety. If I allowed myself to not think about it, I would feel the weight of shame—which produced anxiety.
This is fucked.
There was no happy medium in this scenario.
I thought of Anubis and how happy he’d been to see me, grabbing me in his tiny hug, and I felt the panic subside slightly. I had to believe everything would be alright. I would find Lina. We would find Lina. Anubis and I together. That idea seemed to help quite a bit.
Please stay alive until then, Lina.