by E C Chii
Charle’s deep gravelly voice resounded, “The dead should not rise and rest in peace. How is it that you return?”
Ignoring his question Wolf responded, “So, would you mind tossing me something to wear? Its rather brisk out here, and while I am sure you like staring at my mighty sword. Some things are best left to the imagination, don’t you think?”
“If you don’t want to explain then I will just return you to the afterlife. Only this time it will be in pieces.” Pulling the sword from the ground and charging at Wolf.
“Stop!” cried out Siris
The armored man froze, relaxing his grip on the longsword. “Why did you stop me Lady Yhelena?” spoke the gravelly voice.
“He is not undead. He is still alive when I ‘Analyze’ him.”
Sir Charle stared intently at Wolf, still tense for a moment longer before he relaxed. “How have you come back from the dead?”
“Well I figured I would just pop in for a visit, the afterlife is just so dreadfully boring, that and I want to scope out the sights, shake daddy’s little money maker for coin stuffed in mah undies.” Wolf joked
“Speak plainly, half-breed.” Charle growled
All sense of playful banter fell away from his face, “Don’t call me half-breed, Fuckface. Otherwise I will need to shove that toothpick up your ass, Charlie” Wolf hissed. This change caused Sir Charle to immediately take a defensive stance. A few moments of awkward hostile glares and the old Huldra interrupted.
“Young man, would you mind telling us how you managed to return to the land of the living after obviously being killed.”
Holding his glare at Sir Charle for another few moments, he took in the situation with a chuckle, how intimidating must he look standing butt naked covered in soot and dirt staring down a man in full plate armor. Figuring it would be good to be cordial this time.
“Please call me Wolf. I most certainly did die but at the same time not really. When he hit me with ‘Coup de Meurte’ all my health was expended. I woke up on some grassy plains with a roaring river nearby. Some pretentious bitch was sitting on a throne of wood and grass after that I woke up on the pyre. That was a dick move by the way. Now can I get something to put on? It’s kinda breezy.”
All those within earshot’s eyes went wide. “You met Lady Arete? Did she say something?” the old Huldra stammered.
Sighing, “Can I PLEASE get something to wear? Siris over there is looking at me like I’m a hussy. I ain’t got no time fo dat.”
The old Huldra looked back and nodded as a boy came walking up carrying something that looked like clothes.
“Wolf, put these on and we can continue this conversation inside.”
Wolf put on the rough spun trousers and tunic that smelled like mildew and sweat, but didn’t complain as he merrily walked through the gates. Following Siris and the old Huldra with Charlie hanging back they walked for about five minutes in silence. The town was like medieval frontier towns he had seen in old movies, the buildings were well constructed out of roughhewn planks of wood and logs. Wolf recognized several landmarks and iconic shops by the pictures depicted on their signs.
A flask with a flower was an alchemists’ shop, hammer and anvil a blacksmith, a leather bag spilling gold discs a general store, tailor, leatherworker, baker, and tavern were all represented in one fashion or another. They approached a building that he didn’t immediately recognize depicting a feathered quill and parchment. Upon entering he realized it was the town hall with them entering a relatively well furnished but small office. The old Huldra walked behind and sat at the desk, placing his elbows on it and interlacing his fingers.
“Please have a seat. My name is Aegom Ambrush, I am the Kokuri village elder. Would you mind telling me more about this meeting with Lady Arete?”
“Sure, but first, let’s take care of some business. I have two quests for you, how do I turn them in?”
“Just hold out your hand Wolf.”
Wolf extended his hand while Aegom grasped it and closed his eyes. Aegom’s face would twitch occasionally before going blank and emotionless. This continued as Aegom continued this pattern for five minutes or more. Siris and Charle were staring at him with rapt attention. A few moments later two windows appeared before him.
Congratulations! You have completed the Unique Quest ‘Defend Kokuri Village’
Rewards: 3500exp, +50 Reputation, 1 item from the Village storehouse, +10 Gold
Congratulations! You have completed the Hidden Quest ‘The Alunvian Restoration II’
Reward: +7,500exp, +10 Reputation with Kokuri Village and Alunvian Resistance, 1 item from the village blacksmith’s stock, +20 gold
Congratulations! You have attained level 7. You have 4 stat points and 1 skill points to distribute.
Congratulations! You have attained level 8. You have 4 stat points and 1 skill points to distribute.
Wolf smiled at the two-fold level up. As he was about to begin telling the story of what happened with this Lady Arete, Siris interrupted.
“Wolf, I know I asked several questions about your origin, but could you please tell us about your history, and how you got here?”
“I suppose, do you think we could do that in the morning since it will take a while, and I would really like to wash up. This will be a long story and we have had a rather exhausting day don’t you think?”
“I can see your point. I will send someone to get you when the sun is at its peak, the tavern has spare rooms for visitors. I will cover the cost for this one night and have someone bring you a wash basin and better change of clothing.” Aegom conceded.
With that said, they all broke up to their respective areas, Wolf could get cleaned up with a rag and wash basin. The clothes that were brought were of the same quality but now that he was clean and clothed he felt better about the impending future. As he lay down, he wondered what Raven and Peirce would be up to.
He had eight points to distribute and needed to come up with a plan of what to do with them. After reflecting on the whole situation, he found himself in, he decided that adding four to constitution was a given, and one to luck, cause why the fuck not. After looking at himself in the mirror that was in the room he quickly added the remaining three points into charisma. His visage made him cringe at first, he looked hideous, and after adding the points he didn’t look like a walking hemorrhoid. Now he looked something like the monster from a bad B-rate horror movie. Saving the two skill points he fell onto the woolen bed that had likely seen countless other bodies.
Chapter 16 – Planning for a fight
Wolf woke in a cold sweat, normally he would remember his dream but this time he couldn’t. Looking out the nearby window he could see dawn was still several hours away. Realizing that sleep would not come again, he decided to go exploring the village. Walking down the main street, he heard the clanging indicating that the smithy was up and running. Approaching the open-air smithy, he saw a short stocky man banging away on a long piece of metal, presumably a future sword.
Wolf didn’t say anything and just watched the man work. The light from the smithy was not enough to see clearly but that didn’t seem to bother the smith. He kept pounding at the metal, when its glow dimmed he placed it back into the furnace to be reheated. The smith sort of waddled and limped up to the railing that Wolf was leaning against, as he walked closer he recognized him as a Mountain Dweorh from his pale skin, brown hair, and gruff appearance.
When the Dweorh spoke with an elegantly smooth Italian like accent, it completely baffled Wolf.
“What can I help you with?”
“I was hoping you could either make something for me or allow me to make something myself.” Wolf replied cheerfully.
“Do you have any skill with a hammer?”
“Rudimentary at best. Do you know how to make a uchigatana?”
The Dweorh frowned, “I will not let any person who is below the rank of ‘trained’ use my forge. I have not heard of such a weapon. Do you know how it’s
made or it’s dimensions?”
“It’s a type of curved single bladed sword about seventy centimeters long with a round guard, a hand and a half grip, approximately two to three centimeters wide tapered to a point, and about a quarter centimeter thick. It’s typically accompanied by a sixty-centimeter shorter sword of the same make and design.”
“It does not seem too complicated. Seems a bit exotic, is it something of a specialty for your…err people?” the Dweorh mentally visualized the blade.
“Not really, it’s just a core facet of my particular swordsmanship. If I walk you through how to make it would you forge it?”
“It should not be a problem. My name is Antoanio Missagi. For custom forge work, it’s forty gold, though trying something new might increase my smithing level. How about I drop the price down to fifteen gold? How heavy do you want the pommel?” the Dweorh grinned.
“No pommel necessary, just an endcap. Do you have any parchment I can draw the design for you? I would like for you to at least get a good visual, so you don’t need to re-forge anything if it comes out wrong? You wouldn’t happen to know when the carpenter’s shop opens?”
“I do, he will be awake and active a few hours after dawn. What metal do you wish to use?”
Wolf smiled. “Hardened steel for the blade with a softer steel jacket for the back. When you go to heat treat the blade one final time let me know, I will show you a way to keep the center pliable while allowing the edge to remain hardened?”
“The steel will cost you an extra two gold. If you show me that method, I shall not charge you for the guard or those other bits.”
“Deal, how many times do you fold it?”
“At my current skill level, I can fold steel about ten times. Will that be sufficient?” The Dweorh asked with a hint of greed and anticipation in his eyes as he stared at the design.
“The handle and grip will need some extra things that I can instruct your apprentice who is on how to accomplish. It is a bit specific, so I will need to instruct him on the specifics on it. It needs to be either some silk or rough leather, wood, and some other miscellaneous items if you have them.”
“For everything that you are requesting, it will be nineteen gold and ten silvers. The blade will take about a week to complete as it is an untested method I am using. After that I will be able to create this type of sword in about a day. The mounting and other miscellaneous things you are describing will take an additional week to accomplish as long as you write detailed instructions.”
Wolf pulled out the appropriate amount of coin for the work and spent most of the morning writing the instructions how to craft the sword blade, mounting it, and looking over the Dweorh’s stores thinking which item he should choose for his quest reward. Only once did the Dweorh come to ask for clarity on the shape of the blade and length of the tang before continuing. He had a general idea formed of what he wanted when he went to check on the Dweorh. Sitting on a bench he watched the smith banging methodically on the glowing piece of metal.
As it’s glow dulled he placed it back into the forge and withdrew the shorter one and repeated the process. Seeing that this would take a rather long time he headed to the armorer to get something made. He ended up spending an additional ten gold for the custom work. He was getting a rather nice flexible, custom fit leather armor with an attached hood and facemask in a greenish black color. Foot wear was a bit complicated as he was unable to use most humanoid style boots due to his digitigrade legs, or in layman’s terms a dog’s hind legs. Luckily the armorer could fashion some sandals that would suffice and something close to boots with his custom armor set. When he went back to the smithy he found a young boy waiting at the smithy waving for his attention. Wolf sighed, thinking what he wouldn’t do for a watch right now.
Getting up he walked over to the boy, as he was heading over he shouted to the Dweorh, “Hey Antoanio, I got a meeting with the Elder. I will come right back as soon as I am done.”
The Dweorh didn’t look up or do anything but grunt his affirmation. Figuring that would be all he would get, he followed the boy to the Elder’s office.
When he arrived, he saw Siris, the Elder and this tall Orc with olive green skin wearing a white tunic, brown breeches, and short comical orange hair. His lower jaw had your stereotypical protruding tusks indicative of an Orc, his eyes stared at him suspiciously, and wary. Hmm this day was just full of stereotypes being broken. An Italian accented Dweorh and an Orc that wasn’t a hide wearing berserker, which looked intelligent. He had his arms crossed leaning up against the wall in a corner scanning the room, windows and doors continuously. Using ‘Analyze’ on the Orc showed that it was the armored man Sir Charle Lemeign and a race called Melkor. ‘Well a knight too, fancy that’ he mused.
“Morning,” Wolf said cheerily, as sat in one of the plusher chairs and started drumming his fingers on the arm rest. Before anyone else could say anything, he opened with, “I suppose you’re all wondering why I’ve gathered you here today?”
Siris and the Elder looked at him confused, while the Charle glared at him.
“Okay, guess that one sounded funnier in my head. So where would you like me to start?”
Charle growled, “At the beginning.”
“Okay, sure. There was this man, he met a woman, then they started dating. After a time, he asked her if she was down for some Netflix and chill. Naturally…”
Charle’s face turned a darker shade of green as he came up off the wall and started stomping toward Wolf with intent of violence.
“Easy, Carrot Top. No need to turn into a drama queen.”
The elder took the opportunity to de-escalate the situation before it became violent. “Please tell us where you came from.”
Wolf shrugged, while he wanted to continue to poke fun at the Melkor he understood he needed to give them the story they wanted. That’s why he began to tell his background, training as a soldier, what the TRFs did, and why they were so adept with melee weapons. He told them of the types of weapons, how they were used, and as much as he understood their function. Siris having heard much of this sat back silent, while the Elder asked a question.
“These rifles, would you be able to tell us how to make one?”
Wolf’s countenance became grim and eyes lost focus, “I don’t know if it would be as effective as you think. It took us hundreds of years of constant development and research to make them how I described. Also, once you unleash them on this world, millions will die as your cities turn into graveyards and untold numbers of innocence would die when they are caught in the middle. That is one of the core reasons we in the TRFs choose to use melee weapons more than rifles or pistols. It keeps the collateral damage limited. It doesn’t always work, but it helps, and for every innocent person that isn’t killed in a shootout helps me sleep at night.”
Looking the elder in his eyes, he asked, “Are you prepared to have the souls of tens if not hundreds of thousands of innocent people on your chest?”
The elder’s eyes widened as he swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. The entire time he was talking Charle’s jaw was locked in a clench as he was grinding his teeth.
“No, I don’t think that would be a good thing.” He replied shakily
It was at this point Siris chose to speak up. “I am of the same mind but would like to comeback to it later. Could you tell us about your interactions with Lady Arete?”
Wolf relented, “Yeah, but you will need to forgive me if comes out as less than respectful since you seem to revere her.”
Over the next twenty minutes he gave the people present the background of his interaction with this “Lady Arete”. When he finished they, all sat in silence hesitant to the one to break the silence and interrupt the other’s thoughts.
Congratulations! You have initiated the Hidden Quest ‘The Alunvian Restoration III”
Type: Divine Difficulty: Extremely Hard
Conditions: Escort Siris Yhelena to the Tall Spire temple
; Reward: Unknown
Finally, it was Charle who broke the silence when he asked, “You have only just hit level eight and before you turned in those quests you were level six. How did you beat almost a century of Imperial Conscripts?”
“Honestly, good planning, pre-prepared positions, luck, and a very angry Direwolf. In a straight on battle I would have lost each time. Fair fighting is for hopeless romantics, wet behind the ears rookies, and delusional knights that think war is some gentleman’s sport where every person gets a participation trophy for showing up.”