Second Skin Omnibus

Home > Other > Second Skin Omnibus > Page 49
Second Skin Omnibus Page 49

by M Damon Baker


  Short Sword – 27%

  Dagger – 25%

  Critical Hit – 21%

  Two-Handed – 26%

  Pole Arms -14%

  Spear – 23%

  Armor – 23%

  Medium Armor – 25%

  Perception – 29%

  Environmental – 29%

  Identify Enemy – 25%

  Identify Person – 26%

  Combat Dodge – 21%

  Subterfuge – 26%

  Stealth – 27%

  Find Trap – 5%

  Disarm Trap – 4%

  Set Trap – 10%

  Manipulation – 13%

  Persuade – 15%

  Barter – 14%

  Survival – 23%

  Tracking – 24%

  Identify Creature (Beasts) – 9%

  Skinning – 13%

  Field Dress – 12%

  Alchemy – 12%

  Herbalism – 21%

  Potion Craft – 12%

  The proficiency gains to my Blades talents were amazing! I had gone from discovering the Long Sword skill just that morning all the way to 25% proficiency. Not only that, but the day’s lessons had also raised my Short Sword, Dagger, and overall Blades proficiencies as well.

  I had also increased Parry slightly, having used the talent the majority of the times I’d managed to fend off one of the Drill Master’s strikes. What I found odd was that my Manipulation and Persuade talents had also increased, albeit only slightly. Had I been unknowingly influencing Evans the whole time?

  I thought about it for a while, but after reviewing the entire day, I could not think of a single instance where I had intentionally tried to sway Evans one way or another. As unlikely as it seemed, the talent appeared to have activated on its own for at least some portion of time. I would have to figure out some very tactful way to ask my friends about that possibility.

  With that disturbing thought stuck in my mind, I tried to drift off to sleep. My goal proved elusive for a while until the day’s exhaustion managed to overtake the wild musings of my brain, and finally drag me off into a fitful night’s sleep.

  6

  I woke early in the morning, the sound of marching soldiers once again filling the courtyard and rousing me from my sleep. This time at least I was grateful for the disturbance since I needed to be up before the caravan left. Quickly rising from my bed, I got dressed and donned my armor and gear before heading down to the common room.

  My friends followed almost immediately, and we were finally able to share breakfast together. Soon, the few caravan members who had managed to secure the inn’s remaining rooms for themselves also drifted downstairs, and before long, the caravan leader announced that we would be departing shortly, providing a warning for all of us to finish what we were doing and prepare to leave. Stel paid the morning’s bill from our group’s common funds, and we stepped outside to join the caravan.

  The caravan consisted of over two dozen sturdy wagons, and while each was primarily designed to haul the individual merchant’s trade goods, they were also unmistakably constructed with defense in mind. The sides were made from thick, strong planks of wood, and many were reinforced with metal at their critical points. The wheels of each wagon were also built ruggedly and shod with iron. Several of the wagons also appeared to have defensive ports built into their sides, allowing a crossbow to be fired at an enemy from within the safety of the wagon’s interior. As if the wagons themselves were not imposing enough, several dozen well-armed guards escorted the caravan. The many guards wielded a variety of vicious-looking weapons, and all of them had the look of seasoned veterans. This caravan would certainly not be an inviting target for any bandits.

  We waited a short while and then, as the sun crested over the treetops, the eastern gates were finally pulled open. The caravan lurched forward, and we followed along as it took us beyond the protective walls of The Citadel for the first time… at least it was the first time for me. Venna and the others had come to Lorida by this same route long ago when they had begun their careers as adventurers.

  The first day passed slowly, but thankfully, it was uneventful as well. Considering the heavy construction and equally heavy loads of the wagons, the caravan only managed to travel at a relatively slow walking speed, so we were able to keep up easily. During that day, we made a point of varying our position among the many wagons, taking some time to try and meet and converse with as many of the merchants as possible. A few made it clear that they were uninterested in discussion, and we quickly moved on. However, most of them were quite willing to engage in conversation with us. One in particular was extremely friendly, and we spent most of the day walking beside his wagon.

  The merchant’s name was Birt, and along with his wife Wenda, they traveled with the caravan from city to city, earning a living selling high-end garments to the rich and well-to-do of society. Apparently, Birt’s work was well-known in those circles, and his designs were much sought-after. He told us that the key to his success lay in his travels. By going from city to city, he was able to observe many different trends and incorporate them into his own designs, always keeping them fresh and new. As a result, his services were in high demand whenever the caravan arrived in one of the prominent cities.

  One might have expected a merchant of his renown to be somewhat haughty and arrogant, especially considering the circles in which he sold his goods, but the truth was quite the opposite–Birt and Wenda were decent, down-to-earth people who felt no need to put on any airs of superiority. They treated us with nothing but respect, and we thoroughly enjoyed the time we spent walking alongside them as they drove their wagon.

  When the sky began growing dark, the caravan came to a halt and preparations for the night ahead began. The wagons were arranged in a rough circle, and a protected campsite was set up in the middle. Guard shifts and positions were assigned, and the rest of the caravan made themselves ready for the night.

  As we were only traveling with the caravan, and not hired on as guards, we were free to set up our camp anywhere we liked, so long as it did not interfere with anything. We chose to set up our tents alongside Birt’s wagon, not only for the company, but also to offer him and Wenda our protection should the caravan be attacked. Of course, we only told Birt the first reason, but I was certain he also guessed at the second. The fact that he offered to serve us dinner from their own provisions only served to bolster my suspicions.

  Although nothing had harassed us during the day, I couldn’t help but feel as if we were being watched most of the time. It was as if someone, or something, was shadowing us from within the cover of the trees. After dinner, when Birt and Wenda had retired inside their wagon for the night, I shared my impression with my friends.

  “So, you noticed too,” Khorim replied when I finished relaying my concerns.

  “Did you see them?” I asked.

  “No, not a glimpse,” he replied regretfully. “Whatever is out there, it’s sly, that’s for sure.”

  “The guards are aware as well,” Venna added. “I heard them talking about something following us earlier today. I didn’t want to mention it while Birt and Wenda were still here.”

  “They have a strong watch organized, so we should have ample warning if there is an attack,” Stel replied. “While we should make some preparations, our best option is to get as much rest as we can.”

  We all saw the wisdom of his advice and followed his lead. I went to bed in my armor, with my bow and quiver ready close by. I could see that the rest of my friends had arranged their weapons for rapid deployment as well. Although Khorim seemed to fall asleep quickly, the loud sound of his snoring giving him away, the rest of us lay awake for quite a bit longer, unable to fall asleep with the concern over the possibility of an impending attack weighing heavily on our minds.

  Fortunately, the attack we feared never came, and the night passed without incident. We woke in the morning to the sounds of the camp being broken and the smell of fresh eggs and bacon fryin
g up over our campfire.

  “We figured you might want a decent breakfast,” Wenda said as we crawled out of our sleeping bags. “Seeing as you’ll be on your feet all day.”

  Her face beamed as she smiled genuinely at us, highlighting the soft creases around her gentle eyes.

  “Thank you, Wenda,” Venna replied for all of us as she rose from her bedroll. “That sounds wonderful.”

  We ate a quick breakfast with Birt and Wenda, savoring the hot meal. Freshly cooked food was a rare treat while traveling the open roads, and we treasured each and every morsel. Once finished, we helped Wenda clean up before gathering our gear and taking our place among the long line of wagons in the caravan.

  We walked alongside Birt’s wagon for the entire day since he and Wenda had proven to be both gracious hosts and enjoyable company on the road. Along the way, they continued to regale us with tales of scandal and hijinks among the well-to-do of society, while always being careful to omit any references that would reveal the identity of any particular individuals.

  As we traveled, I noticed that, periodically, small side roads would branch off from the main trail. We were well outside the borders of any of the Realms, and I wondered where these side roads might lead.

  “They connect to the villages that have established independent communities for themselves,” Khorim replied to my inquiry.

  “Aye, I’m surprised we haven’t seen any of their trading parties yet,” Broda added.

  For the next while, my companions told me about these isolated towns, with Birt occasionally adding notes from his own experiences.

  These remote communities were comprised of people who wished to live free of the burdens placed on them by the various realms. They sought freedom not only from taxes but also from the threat of their sons and daughters being drafted to fight in one of the petty wars that so often plagued the land. Striking out on their own, they established independent villages in the vast, untamed lands between the various Kingdoms. Their isolation left them outside the protections of the large armies of the Realms, forcing them to provide for their own defense. The village militias gave little quarter to any creature that threatened their security and showed even less mercy to the bands of humanoid bandits that attempted to prey on their own kind. It was a harsh existence, to be sure, but provided them a measure of freedom and independence not available anywhere else in the land.

  Although we had time for many conversations, the day did not pass without issue, as both Khorim and I detected the continued presence of something following the caravan. Finally, late in the afternoon, I caught sight of our pursuers.

  “Wolves,” I whispered to Khorim as he walked beside me.

  He peered toward the spot I had indicated before uttering a subtle grunt of acknowledgement.

  “Just so you know,” he said reluctantly, “You just cost me another Mark. I swore I’d catch sight of them first.”

  “I told you to stop betting against Stel,” I replied with a satisfied grin.

  “He did,” Broda said, sliding up next to him.

  Khorim simply let out another muffled grunt before passing her a shiny silver Mark.

  Broda pocketed the coin and flashed me a conspiratorial grin before wandering back to her usual spot alongside the wagon.

  “Perhaps, master dwarf, it is best you simply not bet against me at all,” I said with some sympathy. I knew the dwarf’s pride had been hurt, not only by his failure to detect the enemy tracking us, but also in losing the bet with his wife.

  “Aye, true words indeed,” he said after a pause. “I may have been the better tracker when we first met, but you’ve caught up to me now, at the very least.”

  His tone was wistful, without a hint of anger or jealousy. I remembered Stel’s words from the other night and was once again grateful for my friends’ sincere goodwill.

  “Thank you for the compliment, Khorim,” I said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I owe a great deal of my improvement to you. All of you.”

  Suddenly, Broda was back, walking by our side once again. Staring at me with one eyebrow raised in disapproval, she gingerly picked up my hand and removed it from Khorim’s shoulder. Her task complete, and with a final meaningful glare in my direction, she returned once more to her place beside the wagon.

  “You know,” I said with a tone of irony, “I think she may not like it when I do that.”

  Khorim began sputtering at my deadpan delivery, stifling back his laughter with a cough.

  “I think you may be onto something there,” he replied once he regained his composure.

  The remainder of the day came and went quickly. We continued to detect the wolfpack that trailed alongside the caravan, and once we knew what to look for, we managed to catch sight of the beasts with greater frequency. If the wolves had been our only concern, we might not have been too apprehensive. However, two other ominous developments left us feeling quite uneasy.

  Broda had noted earlier that we had yet to see any trading parties waiting for us by the little side roads, which was interesting, as selling and bartering with the caravans was a major source of trade for the small villages. Some of the merchants in the caravan even specialized in commerce with the small towns. Yet, after passing over a dozen of the small roads over the past two days, we had not been greeted by a single trading party, and that absence did not bode well.

  Late in the day, we detected a second presence following alongside the caravan. Whatever it was had apparently driven the wolves off, as neither Khorim or I caught any sign of the beasts once we first noticed our new pursuers. We were not able to catch a glimpse of these new stalkers, but the fact that they had so easily frightened off the wolfpack gave us great cause for concern.

  The caravan guards also picked up on the threat but took great pains to make themselves appear unaware. Stel explained to me that their strategy was to lull the potential enemy into a false sense of confidence—their hope was that if an attack was to occur, they would be able to respond more quickly than the ambushers would have accounted for. Knowing this, I watched closely as crossbows were subtly loaded inside wagons and young children began to be quietly herded inside.

  Fortunately, no attack followed, and we made it to our designated stopping point early in the evening. Camp was made, and watches set much like the night before, but I noticed that the wagons had been circled a bit more tightly this time, and additional guards had been placed on each watch.

  We made our own camp around Birt’s wagon as we had before, but this time, set our own watch as well. I volunteered for the first watch so that I could set out a few traps to protect both Birt’s wagon and our little camp.

  I had Broda accompany me as I pretended to inspect the area around the wagon. She provided the illusion of helping me examine the terrain as I repeatedly cast Create Trap around the perimeter of the wagon. I had been playing with the idea of a double-layered trap sequence since our fight with Jorum and his Bloody Hearts and used the opportunity to try it out. Once I was satisfied with the arrangement of my traps, Broda and I retreated back inside the perimeter of wagons.

  My turn on guard duty passed uneventfully, mainly because the caravan’s guards walked the outer perimeter while I watched closely from inside. When nothing disturbed the night’s peace, I woke Broda at the end of my shift.

  I felt like I had barely closed my eyes when an alarm went off in my head, signaling that one of my traps had been sprung. Almost immediately, a second trap triggered as well, letting me know that our perimeter was under attack across a broad area. Although I was a bit groggy, I had anticipated this moment when I had laid my traps, and after a calculated moment of delay, I reflexively triggered the manual activation on my second tier of traps.

  As I rose up and grabbed my bow, shouts were erupting from around the camp, signaling that a heated battle was going on between the guards and whatever it was that was attacking the caravan. Without hesitating, I nocked an arrow and ran to the edge of Birt’s wagon. Peering a
round the corner, I caught my first glimpse of our enemy.

  Several guards were engaged with a group of heavily armed individuals. At first, I could not make out much more than that, having forgotten to cast Enhanced Sight. I immediately corrected my oversight and the battlefield instantly came into sharp focus.

  Our ambushers were an assortment of sentient beings of various races. Although heavily armed and armored, their equipment appeared to be mostly a mismatch of different bits and pieces. There really was only one possible explanation for just what we were facing. Bandits.

  The handful of guards on this side of the caravan would have been swiftly overwhelmed by the several dozen bandits if not for the fact that the majority of our attackers were caught up in my traps. Instead of being outnumbered, the tables had been turned on our ambushers, and the few that had managed to stay clear of the traps’ tangling vines were soon either dead or had fled back into the forest. All that was left were the many bandits trapped in my snares as they cursed and fought to work their way free.

  Looking over the scene revealed that my plan for the traps had worked perfectly. I had first placed a row of traps set to trigger automatically, then I placed a second row beyond them that I could activate manually. I had hoped that the second layer would capture those who might try to rescue anyone who had been ensnared by the first line of traps, using the desire to free their comrades against them. Apparently, it worked—as I looked on, I could see the second layer of traps had managed to ensnare many more bandits than the first set.

  Having dealt with the few bandits that managed to escape from my traps, the guards advanced on the ones held tight by my vines. They began slaughtering the bandits as they fruitlessly tried to flee, prioritizing any who seemed even close to gaining their freedom. I joined them after a moment, realizing the harsh reality of the situation—we had no prison cells, and to release them only meant they would be free to prey upon others yet again.

  One of the guards’ leaders called a halt to the slaughter when only a small handful of the bandits were left. He called for the traps to be dismissed so they could be taken into custody and questioned. I dissolved my creations, and as we approached, the guard captain called out to us.

 

‹ Prev