Chapter 02 of Wayward Ranger by J Scott Miles

Aidan’s meager mana pool proved just deep enough, and his mana re-gen just fast enough to keep him alive, if not comfortable, as he floated on his makeshift raft. Each time he recovered sufficient mana to recast Internal Warmth, his extremities were so numb he could barely feel them, and his teeth chattered so violently he feared they might break.

After the dangers of succumbing to the elements and hypothermia, he knew dehydration would be the next greatest threat to his survival. On his second night adrift, the clouds, which had threatened rain for days, finally opened up. As lightning flashed around him, he split his effort between trying not to fall off his raft and trying to collect as much fresh water in his mouth as he could.

On either the fourth or fifth day of drifting, he wasn’t sure which, delirium set in. His thoughts wandered back to his ma and da, and the day he’d left their hut at nine years old for Ranger Dallen’s to begin his apprenticeship. It had been a surprise and a great honor for someone of his humble upbringing to find a master in an adventuring class willing to take him on as an apprentice. Most masters in adventuring classes charged exorbitant amounts for their limited time, but Ranger Dallen had owed Aidan’s father for a debt neither would talk about.

And so it was, I was given a great opportunity that I should make sure I did not screw up. How many times did I hear that? I wonder if dying in the middle of the ocean without gaining even a single point of XP past level ten, and in fact going backward because of all those death penalties, counts as “screwing it up?”

It was while pondering deep questions like that when he finally spotted land. At first, he questioned whether he was truly seeing the high wooded peaks in the distance. Even once he’d convinced himself they were real, there was little he could do except paddle ineffectually with his arms and wait to drift closer.

The jagged, seemingly uninhabited, coastline expanded before him with agonizing slowness, but eventually, he and his raft washed up on the rocky, barren shore.

Staggering up the pebble-strewn beach, Aidan was grateful to be back on dry land and off the accursed ocean. The ache in his stomach and the dryness in his throat took priority over any show of gratitude to the gods for sparing him, however.

Draining his mana pool once more, he cast Internal Warmth to stave off the chill of the wind on his sodden clothes. Then he crossed the narrow beach to the bottom of the sheer rock bluffs topped with conifers.

Finding fresh water proved relatively easy. After walking along the bluffs only a short distance, he came across a tiny waterfall trickling down the sheer rock wall. He leaned into it with his mouth wide and drank all he could until his belly ached.

Finding something to eat proved more difficult, however. Under Ranger Dallen, he’d learned skills suitable for surviving in a wooded environment, but he knew next to nothing about surviving on a coastline.

After walking for what seemed like miles, he’d found several varieties of small, shelled creatures clinging to half-submerged rocks, but they were frustratingly resistant to his efforts to pry them from their shells. I need to find a way up these cliffs. I know I’d have better luck finding food up there in the forest where I’ll be more familiar.

He walked a while longer before finally finding a break in the cliffs where he could clamber up. Once in the forest above the beach, he traveled inland, feeling immediately more at home beneath the trees, listening to birds twittering in the canopy, and insects chittering around him. The overstory of large firs, pines, and maples was familiar to him. He recognized nearly everything from the trees to the understory of ferns, vines, and mosses. There were a few plants he couldn’t place, but not many.

As he plucked a handful of dandelions and a few sprigs of wild asparagus from the forest floor, he wondered if it was possible he’d drifted all the way back home to the settled kingdoms. It seemed more likely he’d drifted the rest of the way to the Untamed Lands, though. He hadn’t seen any signs of ships or settlements on the coast where he’d washed up, and there were few stretches left in the kingdoms where that would have been true.

He continued to move deeper, collecting what he could, but the leaves and stalks he foraged did little to satisfy his hunger. I need meat, or at least something more filling than these meager greens.

To that end, he kept an eye out for a suitably straight and slender stick to make a spear, as well as vines suitable for snares. There had to be game in a forest like that. All he needed to do was find one of their trails and keep a sharp eye out.

He’d lost one of his two knives fighting the Kraken and the other wasn’t looking good after so many days sitting in its sheath, damp with seawater. His whetstone and oils had been with his bow and all his other gear under his bunk in the ship. So, he wouldn’t be shining his blade up anytime soon, but it was still the most valuable tool he had. And until he could make something better, it was the best weapon he had as well.

He longed for his bow and lamented its loss. It had been a gift from his former master and the most iconic symbol of his rangering class. I’m a ranger without a bow. That’s like a wizard without a staff or a bard without an instrument. It’s just weird.

Making a bow wasn’t out of the question, but he’d never focused on developing crafting skills, and with a bowyer skill of effectively zero, he wasn’t confident he could fashion something usable even if he had the tools and materials he needed. Ranger Dallen hadn’t put much emphasis on crafting of any kind, but Aidan was starting to suspect it was something he should focus more on in the future.

Beneath the canopy it was difficult to tell how late in the day it was, but Aidan’s apprehension grew as the light filtering down through the trees waned. He worried about not finding something substantial to eat before dark, but also about what predators lurked within the forest at night.

Limbs suitable for making spears were not difficult to find, and before long, he had two crudely fashioned pointed sticks in hand. One a slimmer, sharper version for when he found prey and a far sturdier version in case he became it.

He was pretty certain spears were considered a subset of pole-arms, which he had no skill in either. I think I can manage to figure out how to use a sharpened stick if I need to, though. How hard can it be? And maybe I’ll even gain a skill-point or two in Improvised Weapon Crafting.

As he pushed down a narrow game trail, the thick forest abruptly opened into a glade with a small stream and pond at its center. Yes, finally, this is what I’ve been looking for.

Aidan was all too aware of how sensitive freshwater fish could be to the noise and vibration of something large approaching their shore. He set down his bigger defensive spear and took up his thinner one, then crept slowly to the pond, keeping low to avoid casting shadows into the water.

The crystal-clear pond teemed with life, although at first, everything he saw along the shoreline was tiny. Tadpoles, minnows, and water striders abound, but nothing big enough to call a meal. Then he spotted a trio of small, clawed crustaceans, with mottled blue shells, the largest of which was about four inches long and a little bigger around than his thumb. Well, they wouldn’t make a full meal, but they look like the crawdads from back home, and crawdads are good eating. And where there are a few, there should be more.

Night had fallen by the time he caught four of the little bug-like crayfish. By then he’d scared the rest into deeper water, so he gave up and collected sticks for a fire while his angry future dinner guests waited in a hole he’d dug on the shore.

After much sweating and cursing, he coaxed a fire to life. He hadn’t had to make a fire without a fire-steel to strike against in a long time, and although he was grateful Ranger Dallen had forced him to develop some skill-points in manual fire-making, he hoped he could find some vestiges of civilization soon where he could acquire much-needed supplies, like a new fire-steel.

“I have no coin and nothing to trade though,” he said aloud to himself, as much to break up the monotony as to hear a voice, even if it was his own. “And the list of things I need to replace is long and growing longer. If I can find a town or village, maybe I can trade some labor for supplies.”

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

He thought again about his lost bow, as well as the ill-fitted leather armor he’d used every coin he had to buy before departing on the ship. They’re all at the bottom of the sea now.

Skewering his crustaceans one by one, he cooked and ate them. The first one he nibbled slowly to allow his Taste Hazard ability to detect if there was anything about them that might cause him illness, but once he was certain they were safe, he devoured them quickly. They tasted wonderful, but as he feared, they didn’t mollify his hunger.

Now that he knew they were there, he’d be able to catch more of them later, though. And possibly even use the innards from the ones he’d already caught to catch something bigger in the pond. Those thoughts fueled him as he trimmed green boughs from conifers on the edge of the glade to use as a sleeping mat.

Before bedding down, he gathered more deadfall and built up his fire to a size he never would have in the forest back home. But there, in the unfamiliar land, he decided the flame’s ability to keep predators at bay more than outweighed its penchant for drawing attention.

Before lying down on his mat of twigs and pine-needles, he stripped out of his still-damp clothes and hung them across a pyramid of sticks he built beside the fire. He wasn’t too concerned about the saltwater’s effects on his linen shirt, but he was worried his leather pants might stiffen after being soaked for so long.

Turning his bare backside to the fire, he cast Internal Warmth on himself for about the millionth time in the days since being set adrift. It’d be nice if you could level a spell up from using it a bunch the way I can physical skills, instead of having to spend upgrade-points on them.

Closing his eyes, he looked over his status-sheet. After confirming his mana pool was still too low to cast Internal Warmth again, he mentally flicked through his sheet and read over the familiar list of information.

Aidan Atchison: Human Male.

Age: 19

Class: Ranger — Level 10

Strength 10

Dexterity 13

Constitution 15

Intelligence 12

Wisdom 10

Charisma 11

Experience: 11,590

Upgrade-points: 0

Party: None

Quests:

* Untamed Lands Fledgling quest: Stage 1

Spells:

* Internal Warmth, 1

* Minor Heal, 1

Abilities:

* Taste Hazard, 1

Skills:

* Animal Harvesting, 55

* Evasion, 15

* Fire Making, 25

* First Aid, 65

* Foraging, 90

* Herbalism, 10

* Snares & Traps, 10

* Stalking, 25

* Ranged – Bow, 55

* Short Blades – Knife, 10

Boons and Blessings:

* Nanaya’s Kiss

Aidan paused at that last entry. It was new. He’d never seen an entry for Boons and Blessings on his sheet before. I know that wasn’t there the last time I looked at my sheet. And what is Nanaya’s Kiss?

There was no additional information with the listing, not even an infuriatingly vague description like he could get for his spells and abilities if he mentally pushed.

Opening his eyes, he stared into the darkness towards the tree line, pondering what the new entry might mean. He thought Nanaya might be one of the lesser-known goddesses, but he couldn’t think of what she was the goddess of. And he had no idea what her kiss might mean.

He recalled the barmaid’s giggle in the ocean, the feel of her lips on his, and her words to him just before the Kraken tentacle lifted him from the water and saved him from drowning. Her laugh and her words were just hallucinations though, weren’t they? Even the minor gods and goddesses don’t get involved with mortals. Especially not someone like me. I’m no priest or cleric.

But when I heard the voice in my head while I was drowning, she did say something about giving me a hand and a blessing. Could that really have been a goddess talking to me? Is she why the Kraken saved me and didn’t eat me?

It was all too much to believe. Although when he’d set off after leaving Ranger Dallen, he intended to see what was beyond the confines of the settled kingdoms to see if any of the unbelievable stories told in taverns and beside campfires were true. Making a fortune in loot and gaining levels fighting monsters of legend had sounded pretty good as well, but the opportunity for discovery that being an adventurer offered and the escape from monotony was what had truly tugged at him.

Finding the adventuring party had seemed like the perfect opportunity to travel to the Untamed Lands and scratch that itch for adventure and knowledge. That sure hasn’t worked out the way I thought it would, though.

Thinking of his lost party again brought back the melancholy he’d felt in those first hours after the Kraken attack. He shivered, remembering the sight of the rogue being picked up and carried overboard. If it really was a goddess who saved me from that same fate and gave me her blessing, I swear I’ll do as I promised in those moments beneath the waves. I’ll figure out how to honor her, and I’ll repay her to the best of my ability.

At some point, fatigue overtook Aidan. His eyes drifted closed, and sleep claimed him.

###

Aidan woke with a start, torn from a dream that had started out awful where he’d been back drifting on the open ocean on his raft, battling a Kraken with crayfish claws. Then the dream had morphed, the angry sea becoming a peaceful, blissfully warm bath, and the Kraken, a wonderfully voluptuous barmaid, helping him wash. He clung to the last vestiges of the dream, but they drifted away.

He shivered and looked around. His fire had died out, and even though the glade was sheltered from the worst of the wind, he could hear it rustling the tops of the large trees and feel its chill on his bare skin.

Mentally checking his internal mana pool told him he’d regenerated just enough to use Internal Warmth, so he cast it. The spell brought immediate relief, but as he’d become so painfully aware of drifting on the raft, without a cloak or a coat to hold in the warmth, the effects of the spell bled away quickly. So, relighting the fire is probably a good idea. That would mean getting up and getting more wood for the fire, though.

As he lay there, trying to convince himself to get up, over the whisper of the wind, he heard the faint swish of grass somewhere off in the direction of the tree line. What was that?

He strained to hear it again as his imagination spun the unidentified sound into something ominous. He’d kept the stouter of his spears beside him as he slept, but if there was something out there, grabbing it would be a clear indicator that he was awake.

Slowly, Aidan moved his hand to the spear.

The faint rustle of grass came again, closer. It’s definitely not my imagination. Something is coming toward me.

When he had a firm grasp of the spear’s shaft, he sprang to his feet with as much explosiveness as his underfed muscles could deliver and brandished the weapon in the direction the sound had come from. He didn’t see anything at first, but squinting into the night, aided by the faint moonlight, he spotted a furry upright shape about two feet tall standing beside the pyramid of sticks holding his drying clothes.

It’s a raccoon.

Relief washed over him, and he laughed.

“Go on. Get out of here,” he said as his adrenaline ebbed away, leaving him trembling as much from the dump of emotion as from the chill air. “There’s nothing for you in my clothes. If there was anything to eat in there, trust me, I would have already eaten it.”

Then, as the bold little raccoon looked at him, its hands still searching his garments, Aidan wondered if he could catch and eat the raccoon. Raccoons weren’t something he would have normally hunted for food in the woods back home, but he was hungry enough right then to give it a try.

Before he could make a move toward the little creature, the raccoon’s body stiffened and its head jerked up, then swiveled toward the forest. Aidan followed its gaze, but could see nothing through the gloom. He strained his other senses, trying to hear or even smell whatever had caused the raccoon to startle.

Abruptly, the racoon bolted, but not back toward the forest. It rushed directly past him, over his makeshift sleeping mat, and away toward the pond.

From the direction of the forest, Aidan caught movement. A dark shape, far larger than the raccoon, with eyes reflecting the scant moonlight. The eyes tracked the fleeing raccoon and seemed to consider giving chase, but stopped after a single stride and turned its gaze on Aidan.

Oh shit, that’s a very big cat.