by Tim Moon
A second snake, at least the size of an anaconda, spit white material on Silvano who squirmed and let out a yelp of pain. The snake turned its attention to Darya. The poor girl had been cornered against a fallen log and an old, rotted stump. She seemed to be trying to hide underneath the log, but the snake homed in on her. Darya screamed as the creature slithered towards her.
“Help me!” she shouted.
Jaron stood to sneak towards the snake.
Before he moved, Chandi grabbed his hand.
“Don’t let their web touch you,” she whispered.
Jaron gave her a curt nod, then dashed out from their hiding place.
As he closed in, the snake spit white material on Darya’s legs. She hissed as if touching a hot stove. Her legs went limp a few seconds later and she was forced to drag her body with just her arms.
Stealth was Jaron’s friend. Against such a massive creature, he might only get this one chance to kill it without much risk. Gripping the knife’s handle, Jaron sidestepped a bend in its body. A strong musk emanated from the smooth, scaled flesh. He opened his mouth to breath, but it didn’t reduce the smell much. In fact, it seemed to fill the air and he could taste its stench on his tongue. He quickly spit and closed his mouth.
Darya must have seen him coming because she glanced his way. Jaron jumped and brought down a wicked overhead slash at the snake’s neck. The sharpened horn blade cut deep, parting the flesh with surprising ease. Hot blood splashed over his arm and the head flopped to the side, partially freed from its bonds. The body immediately began to convulse. Its thrashing body flung him aside, and Jaron tumbled over a bush and slide another four feet on the detritus and moist soil that made up the island.
Jaron stood, wheezing, a dark wraith covered in soil and blood. With fierce eyes and a firm grip on the dagger, he faced the snake again, determined to slay his latest foe. The cottonmouth hissed a challenge even as it bled out and spewed web in his general direction. Its head lolled and the shot went wide.
The injured snake let out an unsettling shriek as Jaron ran forward and hopped on its back like a cowboy climbing onto a bull. He spun the knife around, holding it in a reverse grip and put his free hand on the pommel. With all his strength, he drove the blade into the base of the snake’s skull.
In an instant, the massive, muscular body went limp. Jaron slid off its back into blood-soaked mud and turned his attention to helping Cyprus.
“Chandi, help the others,” he shouted over his shoulder as he ran to his friend.
Turning to face the next massive snake, Jaron hoped killing it would be as easy. In fact, this one might be even easier since the greedy snake already had a mouthful. Already, it was trying to regurgitate Cyprus. The sound was a mix between gagging and vomiting.
Jaron ran at the snake prepared to jump on its back and pierce its skull like he had with the first one. Except this time when he tried to jump, his foot slipped in the mud and he face planted into the snake’s body. Jaron’s nose crunched and sent an explosion of anguish through his face. As he slid to the ground and struggled to recover, the snake whipped its tail at him, pinning him against the snake’s own body.
Jaron tried to scramble up, using the snake for support. His leg wasn’t working right, it had gone numb and a growing burning sensation radiated from his ankle to the back of his knee. He reached down but yanked his hand back when he saw what it was. White fibrous material had wrapped itself around his ankle. It wasn’t possible, the cottonmouth was still regurgitating Cyprus. He tried to yank his foot free of the ground, where the material had practically anchored him.
With a mighty heave, he pulled his leg free and his instincts screamed at him to dive to the ground. In this case, that meant diving headfirst over the snake’s body to avoid another shot from his left side. Jaron rolled to his feet unsteadily, ending in a crouched position. Turning to scan for the attacker, Jaron also inched closer to the head of the snake who was continuing to spit out his friend.
Attack idiot, Jaron berated himself.
His arm came back as the snake began to pull its body in a coil, possibly to crush Cyprus while freeing its head to attack Jaron. Without hesitating any longer, he slashed deep into the scaled hide. It took massive pressure, but he managed to open a four-foot-long gash that halted the snake’s movement. If the creature continued to coil, it would split its own body wide open. As it was, Jaron didn’t stop. He became a flurry of knife slashes. Stabbing and pulling, shredding and slicing his way through the animal, shouting with every inch he gained.
The snake wasn’t having that shit. It screeched and whipped toward Jaron, using Cyprus and its own head as a battering ram. It lost much of its strength from the grievous wounds he caused, but even so, the snake struck him with astounding force. He was launched through the air again and landed hard at the base of a tree. Jaron spat dirt from his mouth and groaned, taking a second to try to catch his breath. Everything hurt and his health hovered at just 50%. As he pushed up, a third cottonmouth could be seen coming towards him. That was the one that hit him with its webbing. In the light of the two moons, its eyes glistened with malevolence like two angry golden gemstones.
“Watch out,” Jaron shouted, pointing with his knife.
Chandi glanced over her shoulder as she helped free Kwang from his webbing, but the snake ignored the children and raced towards Jaron.
“Oh shit,” Jaron said. He barely ducked away from another ball of webbing. It splatted against the tree behind him.
Taking cover behind the second snake, he didn’t stand idly by. Instead, he buried the knife hilt deep in the motherfucker still trying to disgorge Cyprus. Then he began to saw the blade back and forth. Viscera bulged through the vertical slit he created, and a horrible rotten stench overtook his senses.
Even as he gagged, Jaron kept hacking at the snake, hoping that he didn’t cut Cyprus. Jaron tilted his head away from the wound in a vain attempt to breath fresh air. It didn’t help. The flesh was thick and fibrous, but the knife cut through like it was hungry for blood.
How many hit points did these things have? Jaron had savaged the cottonmouth’s body, yet it continued to writhe and slap at him with its tail.
“You picked the wrong fucking guy on the wrong fucking day,” Jaron shouted, his voice rose with each word. “I’ve had it up to here with these motherfucking snakes and this motherfucking swamp.” He brought the knife down and slashed the snake again. It shrieked in pain and writhed pitifully.
The third cottonmouth reared up, weaving its head from side to side and hissed at him.
Jaron pointed at it with the knife. “You’re next asshole.”
As if in response, the snake spit another glob of web. Jaron had a brief understanding of how Spider-Man’s enemies must have felt. The ball of web shimmered like a snowball in the moonlight as it flew towards him, slowly unfurling to become a net that would bring pain and possibly paralysis. His leg still burned from the earlier hit.
Jaron meant to dive to his right. Instead, his injured leg betrayed him. He slipped in mud churned up by the pints of blood and viscera and toppled to the ground. The clumsy move made him land on his own blade. Luckily, it wasn’t the point, just a shallow cut across his chest. Even so, he had no armor and the wound hurt like hell. Another 20 hit points lost. This time to his own clumsiness.
The third snake hit its crippled companion with the web, barely missing Jaron. It appeared unfazed by the friendly fire incident. Jaron wondered if it was because he’d hurt it enough that the web didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things or because it had immunity or at least a high resistance to the powers their own kind wielded.
Either way, the attack had given the injured snake time to finish spitting out Cyprus. The felidari hit the ground with a wet sound, bounced once and rolled away. Cyprus wriggled and twitched, undoubtedly to free himself, but it made him look like a giant maggot.
Jaron couldn’t believe what his life had become. Every day had been a balls to the wall
struggle to survive. It wasn’t the adventure he expected, but it was the adversity he would overcome. Jaron still had not eaten a proper meal since arriving in game. He’d been poisoned by berries, scratched and burned by a hag, bitten by a sharkodile and spat on by a snake. Yet somehow, despite the pain and suffering, he felt more alive than he had in years. He had freedom and the ability to choose his own destiny.
The cottonmouths weren’t going to-
Long fangs sank into the thigh of his numbed leg. Jaron howled at the moons and reached for his leg. He was dragged off his feet by the snake that had tried to eat Cyprus and held aloft like a hooked worm.
Adrenalin surged through Jaron. It felt like he was moving at ten times the speed of the snake. He slashed and stabbed wildly the snake’s eye. At least one of the strikes struck home because it released its bite and he fell several feet to its companion’s back and slid to the ground. The snake hissed piteously as Jaron scrambled to his feet, slithered a few feet away and went limp.
Critical strike?
“Two down, one to go,” Jaron muttered as he crouched beside a crooked tree, looking for the third snake. He spun around to check behind him, which was a terrible idea on an injured leg, and gasped at what he found. Apparently, he had no reason to worry.
The children had gone all Lord of the Flies on the third snake. Silvano and Chandi had the pole from the boat rammed down the snake’s throat, pinning it to the ground while the others bashed at it with sticks and stones. From the crushed skull, deformed body and massive puddles of blood it was clear they had finished it off.
Jaron glanced at his notifications. He cleared them quickly but was glad to see that he added another 350 XP from the two cottonmouth snakes and leveled his Small Blades skill.
“The thwamp cannn kith yous in a thouthand wayz,” Cyprus said, slurring his words. “Budni nevrr thought thwould blike thithss.”
“Life is full of surprises.” Jaron smirked.
Cyprus picked at sticky webbing clinging to his fur with numb limbs. Jaron winced as he watched his friend struggle. He started forward to help despite knowing that he would likely suffer the effects of the web. Cyprus waved him off. Or tried to. His arm just flopped so he shook his head.
“I thotgd hith noprblme,” he slurred.
Cyprus’ eyelids drooped and his tongue lolled out the side of his mouth as he untangled himself. As much as Jaron felt bad to even think it, the poor buy looked both drunk and severely disabled. Jaron leaned forward to hide his amusement but groaned in pain when he put weight on his leg.
“How long will the effects last?” Jaron asked. Then his eyes widened in fear. “Are they venomous?”
“Der web containths thoxthins,” Cyprus chuckled at his own voice. “Asth yous can tellll. Why?”
“Cause that one bit my leg.”
“Walkt it off, yous willll be fffine.” Cyprus lifted his arms which looked like wet noodles. “Wheneyes can heals yous, I willll.”
Jaron turned his attention to the kids. “Is anyone hurt?”
They had stopped the brutal beating and most of them sat on the dead snake like proud hunters.
“We are well,” Darya said. “Thank you for helping us, again.”
“It’s what I do,” Jaron said trying to relieve the stress with a jovial grin and his hands on his hips in a mock superhero pose. A stabbing pain in his injured thigh made him wince. He stumbled over to lean against a tree. They all gave him a strange look. “Uh, I mean, you’re welcome.”
Darya ran to him and threw her arms around him in a tight hug. Zora joined a moment later.
“Oh, okay.” Jaron felt a little awkward and was about to pat her head when he saw his blood drenched hand in the moonlight. Looking at the kids, he saw that they too had blood splatter staining their ragged clothing. “You know, I’m proud of all of you. I’ve been amazed how each of you have shown such bravery and resilience throughout this whole ordeal. I feel lucky to have met you and I consider each of you a friend.”
Silvano and Sabrina beamed at him while the others gave him a nod. The short acknowledgement of their efforts earned him 100 reputation points with each of them. Since rescuing them from Myra, his reputation went from neutral to friendly and while a mere 100 points didn’t take him much closer to the next level it was a feel-good reward that he appreciated.
Kwang and Chandi began to giggle. Zora let go and hopped in place with a grin. Jaron thought they laughed at his discomfort from Darya’s lingering hug, but they were looking past him. Turning to follow their gaze, he began to chuckle too.
“Look,” he said to Darya.
Cyprus limped back and forth with noodle legs, trying to work the feeling back into them. Patches of webbing matted his fur, even pinning down one of his ears. Hobbling around with his tongue sticking out, he made quite a sight. Cyprus stopped and scowled at them when he realized he was the focus of their mirth.
Naturally that only made them laugh harder.
Wiping a tear from his eye, Jaron began to consider what to do. “I don’t think I’ll get another wink of sleep out here. How long until daylight?”
No one seemed to know.
“I’m hungry. Can we eat the meat?” Kwang asked, poking the snake he helped beat to death.
Jaron cocked his head to the side. If they had a fire, he wouldn’t be opposed to the idea. “How are we going to cook them?”
“Ohh…right.” Kwang hung his head and turned away.
Ten minutes later, Cyprus hobbled over to Jaron. He put a paw on Jaron’s forehead and healed him yet again.
“Thanks again, Cyprus,” Jaron said with a grin from the amazing sensation of being healed. “I would be dead if it wasn’t for you.”
“And I would still be trapped in a cage destined for the Blood Hag’s cauldron if it wasn’t for you,” Cyprus said, his normal speech restored. “Or slowly digested inside a cottonmouth.” He visibly shivered. “Think no more of it. We are companions for the foreseeable future and I’m sure it won’t be the last time we help each other.”
“Agreed,” Jaron said cheerfully. “Now, is there anything we can harvest from these beasts?”
20
While Cyprus agreed the snakes had valuable resources such as their skin, fangs and web sacs, Jaron was most interested in eating. When he asked about food, a sly grin lit the felidari’s face.
“You know we don’t have a fire,” Jaron reminded him.
“No worries,” Cyprus said. “We can drink its blood. Not too much, mind you, or you will get sick. A couple of mouthfuls will help fortify us until we make it to Oakenport.”
“Eww,” Zora said, drawing out the word.
Jaron jerked a thumb in her direction. “I’m with the kid on this one.”
“As you wish,” Cyprus said with a shrug. “You can starve while I will be perfectly content.”
Cyprus went to the first snake Jaron killed and bent down to lap blood from a severed artery along its spine. He looked up and grinned, white teeth contrasting with the blood smeared on his nose and beard. His friend made such a disturbing sight that Jaron’s eyebrows almost merged with his hairline.
“That’s creepy, right?” Jaron asked the kids.
They all nodded, wide-eyed.
“I am hungry though,” Kwang said. He approached the snake and Cyprus moved aside to give him space. Kwang leaned in for a taste with eyes closed and his tongue sticking out. He licked up some of the blood and jerked back. Kwang’s head rocked side to side as he tasted it and then nodded. “It’s not bad.”
Not wanting to be shown up by a little kid, Jaron decided to give it a try. He’d had the same reluctance to try blood sausage soup during the Korean campaign against the Crithzari and it had turned out to be one of his favorite meals. Maybe snake blood wouldn’t be so bad?
Jaron went to one of the other snakes and finished severing the head. It landed on the ground with a thud. Cupping a hand underneath blood oozing from its artery, Jaron filled his palm with the warm, stic
ky fluid. The smell had faded for him, so it was more about the texture and trying not to overthink it.
It’s just tomato soup, he told himself. A few crackers, a comfy chair and he may as well be watching Christmas movies with his mom.
When he sipped from his palm, that fantasy evaporated. The blood tasted metallic with a slight peppery zing that made his lips and tongue tingle. He smacked his lips, savoring the experience and concluded that it wasn’t the worst thing he’d eaten.
Soon everyone had smears of blood around their lips and on their hands. Desperate hunger took over and Jaron drank several handfuls without much thought. It quenched a hunger that he’d been ignoring for too long. His body craved nutrition regardless of the form.
“Don’t drink too much,” Cyprus reminded them.
“Time to harvest?” Jaron asked.
“Indeed. We lost the chakbu so perhaps we can make up the financial loss with these.”
“What parts are we taking?”
“The hide and of course the fangs. If we can manage it, I would like to remove the web and venom glands,” Cyprus said. “Those will fetch a lovely price.”
“They have venom glands?” Jaron’s heart began to thud even though his injury had been healed.
“That is how the web affects its prey.”
He let out a sigh of relief. “That makes sense.”
“Can we get to work now?” Cyprus asked.
Jaron nodded. Cyprus showed him how to skin the snake without ruining more of the hide than he already had when slaying them.
After removing the hide of the first cottonmouth, Jaron received a prompt.
Congratulations! You have skinned a cottonmouth. Doing so unlocked the skill Skinning. You have progressed 20% through level 1. Note: While your first attempts may not be pretty, hides can be turned into leather and used by skilled crafters. Reward: 50 XP Continue honing your skills to reach your true potential.