Both of you are good, go ahead and move it over. I also wanted to get everyone's opinion, I'm remaking my character to be a barbarian. Should I make an npc healer we could all control, or do you guys think we'll be fine without one?
I intended for my character to have some healing powers anyway, along with some buffs he can put on people. We can cover with rest with potions or something.
“Hmm, well, I suppose I’ve been known by a few names over the years. I was called Gideon of the Glade in my youth and some would still call me that even now, though I’m miles away from that glade and haven’t returned in years. Some call me Sir Gideon, even though I was never properly knighted and never wanted to be; I suppose the armour makes people think otherwise. These days I’m mostly commonly called Guildmaster Gideon, because of my role.”
“But despite all the titles, real, deserved or otherwise, I’m just Gideon Fairbright. Or just Gideon, if you prefer.”
Splendid, and your age?
“Oh, 30…ish.”
Fantastic, and your gender good hero
“Male.”
Excellent and of I know what you look like but for the sake of our readers?
“I have to describe myself? But wouldn’t it make more sense for you…? Never mind.”
“Well… I’m a little over six feet tall. I have brown hair, shortish and swept to one side; err, the left side. A beard. Ah, when in combat I wear plate armour with dark blue… I guess a kind of shawl over my shoulders and a belted skirt around the waist. The belt itself is rather ostentatious; silver and gold with a very prominent shield-like design on the front; it was a gift and it does offer me protection.”
“What else… ah, forgive me, I’m not very good at this sort of thing. A picture? Yes, that would work better.”
Excellent. Excellent, and how do you act on most days, you know, your mannerisms, your quirks and such. What makes you, you?
“Oh, that’s an even tougher question than the last one. I’ve always thought you could never really get to know a person just by asking what they’re like. Very few people are able to be objective about themselves after all; we always think much too highly or way too little of ourselves for that.”
“But I’ll do my best.”
“…When I was a young man I suppose I was fairly… full of myself. I was a big fish in a very small pond and that gave me an inflated sense of important. And that, in turn, made me quite arrogant. Meeting Madame Ravenwood and being dragged into her adventures was quite an eye opening experience, let me tell you; once I saw what the rest of the world was like and just how many other big fish there were out there, I realised that I wasn’t nearly as important or special as I thought.”
“It was a… humbling experience. One that I am grateful for.”
“Since then I’d like to think I’ve matured a little. I am aware of my accomplishments and know that they were not meagre feats, but I was not alone when I did any of them and if I hadn’t been there, there are plenty of other adventurers who could have taken my place. I am considered a hero, because I was in the place I needed to be when I was needed; nothing more.”
“Nonetheless, I know that I am strong and that I have things I can teach to others. I know I still have duties to perform. I am not being self-deprecating when I say I am nothing special, I am merely maintaining a sense of perspective, to avoid falling into the same pitfalls I did as a youth. I became the guildmaster of one of the largest adventurer’s guilds on the continent in part because people admire me more than they should, but I accepted the position because I felt I was suitable for it and so that I could pass on my knowledge and experience to others. So that I could watch other the next generation and so that I can keep my finger on the pulse of this continent’s goings on.”
“So to answer your question, I suppose I would say that I am humble and grateful to those that put their trust and faith in me. I am diligent, both to my responsibilities to those under my protection and also to the looming threats of this world. And I am… always trying to make myself and those around me better and stronger, so that we can face whatever comes next.”
Mhm, and your abilities magical or otherwise? If you use magic, what is your discipline? do you use it for battle, defence, healing?
“Well, I can give a basic description, but I’m sure you’ll understand why I can’t divulge too much information about this.”
“To put it succinctly; I am blessed by the waters of my home. They grant me magic that allows me to cast protective spells around myself or others, to ward off harm and avoid danger. Curses and such don’t have much effect on me, even without spells, and any that do manage to stick I can usually deal with. I can also do a little healing and my combat magic isn’t too shabby either; though obviously I have a little trouble against opponents that can resist a little splash of water.”
“I’m also a fairly capable swordsman and fighter. That armour isn’t just for show and neither is that fancy sword I carry around. I’m much stronger than average, due to that same blessing and I don’t recall ever being sick since I was a child, or even being fatigued; I suppose I’m just all around healthier too.”
Yes, yes, and before everything that transpired, what was your life like? Who were you?
“It’s an old story and easily found, so I don’t mind telling you; there was a myth in my village about an ancient King of Fairies who used to rule the land on which we then lived. That part of the continent used to all be one vast forest, until people came along and cut it down to make way for farmland and roads and towns; the story went that as the forest was cut down, the fairies who drew their power from it gradually lost their magic and their kingdom mostly collapsed.”
“Though they possessed of strange and powerful magic, the fairies were not warriors and had no way to defend the forest through force of arms. So instead, the King ordered that his subjects create wards to avoid detection and to subtly warn people away from the areas of the forest they most wanted to protect. But, as their powers shrank, the wards began to fail and even those areas were soon cleared away; all except for one, anyway. Supposedly there were still some areas that remained hidden and protected and anyone who could find them would be able to find some kind of secret fairy treasure.”
“Stories of hidden treasures aren’t that uncommon; half the adventurers in my guild are chasing after some old myth or another trying to find one. But this is the one I grew up with and it certainly inspired a lot of the kids in my village to spend their days running off into the woods looking for fairy rings and hidden spots. I was no different. I wasted many afternoons in those woods looking for… something. I was bound to get into trouble eventually and sure enough, one day I was out wandering through a part of the woods that the other children all avoided because they thought it was too dangerous; wolves were common there, supposedly. I found no wolves, but I did find a nice long drop down the side of a cliff that I couldn’t see through all of the underbrush. I stepped through a bush and found nothing but air under my feet.”
“I landed in what seemed like another world at first. Everything was so bright, the sun was shining down on this little spring that was just sparkling; crystal clear and surrounded by flat grass littered with wild flowers. It was just this perfect little glade, hidden away deep in the woods. And right there, sticking up out of the water, was an old, rusted sword.”
Gideon smiles and points to a gleaming sword hanging on the wall to his side.
“That sword.”
“I walked out into the water. I remember it being cool and soothing to the injuries I had gotten from the fall; not that I as even paying attention to the pain at the time. All I could think about was the sword. When I grabbed it, it just felt right in my hand, despite being far too large for a boy my size and covered with rust and grime. When I pulled it free, it was no longer old and filthy, but shining and glorious; like it is now.”
“That was when I heard the voices. From all around me. The voices of the fairies. The ones who lived in the glade and who had been watching me since I fell. To see what I would do. See, that glade was one of those protected places I mentioned; one of the places warded and hidden away so it would never be found. Which explained why the other children were so afraid to go there, but didn’t explain why I wasn’t. The ward didn’t work on me; I wasn’t scared away, instead I walked straight to it and I could see the spring after I’d fallen down there.”
“And the sword? That was supposed to be hidden too, but I just walked right up to it and picked it up no problem. Apparently, that sword was crafted by the King of the Fairies centuries ago to be used by a chosen protector; someone who could fight and defend their forest where they could not. But though the sword was forged, they never found someone to wield it. Until then.”
“By picking up the sword, I had made myself their new protector.”
I would have never guessed, and what were your relationships with your comrades, are you still friends? Maybe lovers? Bitter rivals? How do you see them in your eyes
(I’ll leave this empty for now. Hit me up if you have any ideas for past relationships.)
So that's how you worked with each other, and how was your relationship with Madame Ravenwood? Nothing but good I hope?
“Ah, well, Octavia was… I said before that I was rather full of myself as a young man. After finding the sword I had spent the next few years dealing with various minor threats around the region; monster sightings, bandit tribes, wild magical occurrences. The magic of the fairies allowed me to deal with those things fairly easily and I thought that meant I was something special; a chosen hero out of legend. Then one day Octavia showed up in my small village, chasing after some monster which she had been tracking down, and I… hmm, I guess I wanted to show off a little”
“Mind you this was a few years before she formed her group of sellswords; before the group of heroes that everyone now thinks of when they hear her name was a thing. I hadn’t ventured far from my village at that point and she was the first real adventurer I’d ever met. I offered to track down and defeat the monster for her, thinking myself more capable than her and she refused; very politely I must stress, but a refusal nonetheless. She said she had no need for my help and that… didn’t go over well with my younger self. I was angered, my pride wounded and I… well… I challenged her to a duel.”
“I lost, of course. Absolutely and completely… I never stood a chance.”
“It came as a shock, as you can imagine. But… I think it did me a world of good. My ego needed deflating, before I got myself or someone else hurt. Octavia left the village soon after, once she’d dealt with whatever she was looking for, and I left too not long after that. A bit of travel would help me to grow, I thought, and I suddenly had a desire to see what else was out there, over the hills beyond my village.”
“The next few years I spent as an adventurer myself. I travelled, saw new places, met a lot of people… I gained perspective and experience, both of which I had been lacking, sealed away in my village. Eventually I made my way to Bradena, where I met Octavia again and signed myself up to become a member of her sellswords.”
“The rest of the story, I’ll assume you and your readers already know.”
“So, what was my relationship like with Octavia? She was my friend. My mentor. My inspiration. I miss her dearly.”
I see, and.....did you know?
“Hmm?”
Did you even guess, did you even have the slightest idea?
“…”
Do you even realize the amount of shit you heroes are in?
Gideon stands up from behind his desk, hand reaching out to grasp the sword that is always in reach and currently hanging on the wall of his office.
What made you think you could defeat him so easily? WHAT MADE YOU THINK YOU COULD DEFEAT US SO EASILY?
Rather than answer, Gideon casts a spell. A subtle blue glow overtakes his empty hand as a thin layer of water surrounds his body and the air around his swells with moisture.
We almost did it, almost, but then you heroes and that bitch! Well no matter, you and your comrades will get yours soon enough!
“You failed before. You’ll fail now.”
YOU WILL NEVER DEFEAT HIM, DEFEAT US! NEVER! (cue explosion with lots of blood and a little guts)
When the explosion of blood and guts hit Gideon it was simply… swept away. The water around his body moved to swipe away the viscera and the grime before it even had a chance to touch him and the now sullied water threw itself away from his body and was replaced with fresh water, clean as the spring he had found his sword in all those years ago.
Kind of went ham on this one. We'll see if it works out.
Now then, What is your name?
“Hmm, well, I suppose I’ve been known by a few names over the years. I was called Gideon of the Glade in my youth and some would still call me that even now, though I’m miles away from that glade and haven’t returned in years. Some call me Sir Gideon, even though I was never properly knighted and never wanted to be; I suppose the armour makes people think otherwise. These days I’m mostly commonly called Guildmaster Gideon, because of my role.”
“But despite all the titles, real, deserved or otherwise, I’m just Gideon Fairbright. Or just Gideon, if you prefer.”
Splendid, and your age?
“Oh, 30…ish.”
Fantastic, and your gender good hero
“Male.”
Excellent and of I know what you look like but for the sake of our readers?
“I have to describe myself? But wouldn’t it make more sense for you…? Never mind.”
“Well… I’m a little over six feet tall. I have brown hair, shortish and swept to one side; err, the left side. A beard. Ah, when in combat I wear plate armour with dark blue… I guess a kind of shawl over my shoulders and a belted skirt around the waist. The belt itself is rather ostentatious; silver and gold with a very prominent shield-like design on the front; it was a gift and it does offer me protection.”
“What else… ah, forgive me, I’m not very good at this sort of thing. A picture? Yes, that would work better.”
Excellent. Excellent, and how do you act on most days, you know, your mannerisms, your quirks and such. What makes you, you?
“Oh, that’s an even tougher question than the last one. I’ve always thought you could never really get to know a person just by asking what they’re like. Very few people are able to be objective about themselves after all; we always think much too highly or way too little of ourselves for that.”
“But I’ll do my best.”
“…When I was a young man I suppose I was fairly… full of myself. I was a big fish in a very small pond and that gave me an inflated sense of important. And that, in turn, made me quite arrogant. Meeting Madame Ravenwood and being dragged into her adventures was quite an eye opening experience, let me tell you; once I saw what the rest of the world was like and just how many other big fish there were out there, I realised that I wasn’t nearly as important or special as I thought.”
“It was a… humbling experience. One that I am grateful for.”
“Since then I’d like to think I’ve matured a little. I am aware of my accomplishments and know that they were not meagre feats, but I was not alone when I did any of them and if I hadn’t been there, there are plenty of other adventurers who could have taken my place. I am considered a hero, because I was in the place I needed to be when I was needed; nothing more.”
“Nonetheless, I know that I am strong and that I have things I can teach to others. I know I still have duties to perform. I am not being self-deprecating when I say I am nothing special, I am merely maintaining a sense of perspective, to avoid falling into the same pitfalls I did as a youth. I became the guildmaster of one of the largest adventurer’s guilds on the continent in part because people admire me more than they should, but I accepted the position because I felt I was suitable for it and so that I could pass on my knowledge and experience to others. So that I could watch other the next generation and so that I can keep my finger on the pulse of this continent’s goings on.”
“So to answer your question, I suppose I would say that I am humble and grateful to those that put their trust and faith in me. I am diligent, both to my responsibilities to those under my protection and also to the looming threats of this world. And I am… always trying to make myself and those around me better and stronger, so that we can face whatever comes next.”
Mhm, and your abilities magical or otherwise? If you use magic, what is your discipline? do you use it for battle, defence, healing?
“Well, I can give a basic description, but I’m sure you’ll understand why I can’t divulge too much information about this.”
“To put it succinctly; I am blessed by the waters of my home. They grant me magic that allows me to cast protective spells around myself or others, to ward off harm and avoid danger. Curses and such don’t have much effect on me, even without spells, and any that do manage to stick I can usually deal with. I can also do a little healing and my combat magic isn’t too shabby either; though obviously I have a little trouble against opponents that can resist a little splash of water.”
“I’m also a fairly capable swordsman and fighter. That armour isn’t just for show and neither is that fancy sword I carry around. I’m much stronger than average, due to that same blessing and I don’t recall ever being sick since I was a child, or even being fatigued; I suppose I’m just all around healthier too.”
Yes, yes, and before everything that transpired, what was your life like? Who were you?
“It’s an old story and easily found, so I don’t mind telling you; there was a myth in my village about an ancient King of Fairies who used to rule the land on which we then lived. That part of the continent used to all be one vast forest, until people came along and cut it down to make way for farmland and roads and towns; the story went that as the forest was cut down, the fairies who drew their power from it gradually lost their magic and their kingdom mostly collapsed.”
“Though they possessed of strange and powerful magic, the fairies were not warriors and had no way to defend the forest through force of arms. So instead, the King ordered that his subjects create wards to avoid detection and to subtly warn people away from the areas of the forest they most wanted to protect. But, as their powers shrank, the wards began to fail and even those areas were soon cleared away; all except for one, anyway. Supposedly there were still some areas that remained hidden and protected and anyone who could find them would be able to find some kind of secret fairy treasure.”
“Stories of hidden treasures aren’t that uncommon; half the adventurers in my guild are chasing after some old myth or another trying to find one. But this is the one I grew up with and it certainly inspired a lot of the kids in my village to spend their days running off into the woods looking for fairy rings and hidden spots. I was no different. I wasted many afternoons in those woods looking for… something. I was bound to get into trouble eventually and sure enough, one day I was out wandering through a part of the woods that the other children all avoided because they thought it was too dangerous; wolves were common there, supposedly. I found no wolves, but I did find a nice long drop down the side of a cliff that I couldn’t see through all of the underbrush. I stepped through a bush and found nothing but air under my feet.”
“I landed in what seemed like another world at first. Everything was so bright, the sun was shining down on this little spring that was just sparkling; crystal clear and surrounded by flat grass littered with wild flowers. It was just this perfect little glade, hidden away deep in the woods. And right there, sticking up out of the water, was an old, rusted sword.”
Gideon smiles and points to a gleaming sword hanging on the wall to his side.
“That sword.”
“I walked out into the water. I remember it being cool and soothing to the injuries I had gotten from the fall; not that I as even paying attention to the pain at the time. All I could think about was the sword. When I grabbed it, it just felt right in my hand, despite being far too large for a boy my size and covered with rust and grime. When I pulled it free, it was no longer old and filthy, but shining and glorious; like it is now.”
“That was when I heard the voices. From all around me. The voices of the fairies. The ones who lived in the glade and who had been watching me since I fell. To see what I would do. See, that glade was one of those protected places I mentioned; one of the places warded and hidden away so it would never be found. Which explained why the other children were so afraid to go there, but didn’t explain why I wasn’t. The ward didn’t work on me; I wasn’t scared away, instead I walked straight to it and I could see the spring after I’d fallen down there.”
“And the sword? That was supposed to be hidden too, but I just walked right up to it and picked it up no problem. Apparently, that sword was crafted by the King of the Fairies centuries ago to be used by a chosen protector; someone who could fight and defend their forest where they could not. But though the sword was forged, they never found someone to wield it. Until then.”
“By picking up the sword, I had made myself their new protector.”
I would have never guessed, and what were your relationships with your comrades, are you still friends? Maybe lovers? Bitter rivals? How do you see them in your eyes
(I’ll leave this empty for now. Hit me up if you have any ideas for past relationships.)
So that's how you worked with each other, and how was your relationship with Madame Ravenwood? Nothing but good I hope?
“Ah, well, Octavia was… I said before that I was rather full of myself as a young man. After finding the sword I had spent the next few years dealing with various minor threats around the region; monster sightings, bandit tribes, wild magical occurrences. The magic of the fairies allowed me to deal with those things fairly easily and I thought that meant I was something special; a chosen hero out of legend. Then one day Octavia showed up in my small village, chasing after some monster which she had been tracking down, and I… hmm, I guess I wanted to show off a little”
“Mind you this was a few years before she formed her group of sellswords; before the group of heroes that everyone now thinks of when they hear her name was a thing. I hadn’t ventured far from my village at that point and she was the first real adventurer I’d ever met. I offered to track down and defeat the monster for her, thinking myself more capable than her and she refused; very politely I must stress, but a refusal nonetheless. She said she had no need for my help and that… didn’t go over well with my younger self. I was angered, my pride wounded and I… well… I challenged her to a duel.”
“I lost, of course. Absolutely and completely… I never stood a chance.”
“It came as a shock, as you can imagine. But… I think it did me a world of good. My ego needed deflating, before I got myself or someone else hurt. Octavia left the village soon after, once she’d dealt with whatever she was looking for, and I left too not long after that. A bit of travel would help me to grow, I thought, and I suddenly had a desire to see what else was out there, over the hills beyond my village.”
“The next few years I spent as an adventurer myself. I travelled, saw new places, met a lot of people… I gained perspective and experience, both of which I had been lacking, sealed away in my village. Eventually I made my way to Bradena, where I met Octavia again and signed myself up to become a member of her sellswords.”
“The rest of the story, I’ll assume you and your readers already know.”
“So, what was my relationship like with Octavia? She was my friend. My mentor. My inspiration. I miss her dearly.”
I see, and.....did you know?
“Hmm?”
Did you even guess, did you even have the slightest idea?
“…”
Do you even realize the amount of shit you heroes are in?
Gideon stands up from behind his desk, hand reaching out to grasp the sword that is always in reach and currently hanging on the wall of his office.
What made you think you could defeat him so easily? WHAT MADE YOU THINK YOU COULD DEFEAT US SO EASILY?
Rather than answer, Gideon casts a spell. A subtle blue glow overtakes his empty hand as a thin layer of water surrounds his body and the air around his swells with moisture.
We almost did it, almost, but then you heroes and that bitch! Well no matter, you and your comrades will get yours soon enough!
“You failed before. You’ll fail now.”
YOU WILL NEVER DEFEAT HIM, DEFEAT US! NEVER! (cue explosion with lots of blood and a little guts)
When the explosion of blood and guts hit Gideon it was simply… swept away. The water around his body moved to swipe away the viscera and the grime before it even had a chance to touch him and the now sullied water threw itself away from his body and was replaced with fresh water, clean as the spring he had found his sword in all those years ago.
Walking around with an antler in her hand felt awkward. It was… sort of a weapon; sharp wasn’t the right word for it, since it just kind of tapered to a sort of slightly blunted tip, but with enough force it would probably still pierce flesh. There was also a second prong which branched off from the main part half way down, creating something that would work as a kind of blade-catch if she ended up in a knife fight with somebody. As makeshift weapons went it was okay, better than the sharp rock she’d been handed earlier, but just that.
The problem was that it had no handle or grip, so if she did stab something with it, it was likely to just slip out of her hand. It was also fragile, or at least fragile enough for her to be able to break it off in her hand, so whether or not it would last through a fight was up in the air. And lastly it was an awkward shape; sharp, sure, but also curved, meaning she would have to stab at an angle to avoid it just grazing off of stuff.
But the main issue was the fact that just holding it in the first place was enough to turn off her one and only skill. Her Goju-Ryu buff only worked if she was unarmed and while that didn’t prevent her from knowing how to fight, until she had time to really prep this body to work with her instead of against her, her skill was the only way she could fight and win. it was why she had opted not to use the rock she had been given before; the measly offence it provided was worth less than the skill she would be giving up and since said skill had stopped her from having her face burned off, she figured she’d made the right choice.
However, the antler was better than the rock, if only slightly. Good enough that it was worth holding onto, for now at least, and if she needed to use her skill she could easily just drop it. It was better than killing stuff with her bare hands at least.
Not that she would need to kill anything just yet, seeing as how the last remaining chicken had been poached out from under them by another orc. An orc who was either older than them or one who had already managed to kill and eat something, judging by the fact that he had just used magic to burn a hole straight through that thing.
Akeno tightened her grip on the antler in her hand as the more developed, more powerful orc jumped into the clearing. She was half expecting a fight of some kind, for the other orc to want to make sure they wouldn’t challenge them for their kill even though she had no intention of doing so, but luckily they just took the bird and ran.
That still left the other, other orc however, who was also armed and had yet to say or do anything. Akeno was wondering what to do about that, but decided to let their self-appointed leader do the talking; she figured the old orc next to her was either going to make them the same offer to join their group as she had the rest of them, or say something to warn the other orc away. So it came as a surprise when she instead just turned and walked away with barely any acknowledgment that the stranger existed at all.
Raising an eyebrow, Akeno looked across at the remaining orc for a few seconds before she too shrugged and turned to walk back to camp.
“Sure.”
----
When she made it back, everyone else was already occupied. One orc was sat tending to the fire, their leader was beginning to carve into the bird with a rock and the last was stood away from the rest, punching a tree.
That last one might have sounded weird, but Akeno knew her martial arts and could tell that this was more than just mindless aggression. She could recognise boxing when she saw it and had done some conditioning training herself in the past, though never on her hands; her sensei had never advocated for punching a makiwara until your hands bled like you sometimes saw in movies, oddly enough.
Akeno stood and watched Grunthor hit the bark for a while, noting more than anything else just how fast he was moving his hands when he did so. Very fast. Not so fast as to be unnatural, but probably a little fast for a young orc with wimpy arms and no athleticism.
I think my character is going to be a Paladin-type fighter, but without the religious connotations; basically an armoured swordsman with support and healing magic. They would be a sort of folk hero, someone who fulfilled a local prophesy and found a sword in a forest glade by a pond and became the sworn protector of the spirits/fairies of said forest; whichever fits the lore of the setting better. Kind of a really small scale King Arthur.
The idea is basically to have this kid who grows up feeling important but who is largely confined to one small area of the world and doesn’t know how big it really is. Then, as an adult he gets swept up into this adventure much larger than his legend was supposed to be and finds himself out of his depth.
Since the quest ended I was going to have him settle down and become the leader of an adventurer’s guild somewhere; mostly retired, but helping younger adventurers get started. He’s seen as a legend because of his inclusion in the group but he found the whole thing to be a very humbling experience and only sees himself as capable, but nothing special.
I'll put forward my tentative interest as well. I have a few questions about how you see magic and stuff working in the story and about Ravenwood, but I have the beginnings of a character concept;
The answer to her question came almost immediately. Not from Yiya, but from the stairs behind her as another young woman descended onto the platform with them and approached. Sasha watched them as they walked the length of the platform but didn’t say anything; she let Yiya handle the formalities, since this was her expedition and she was much better at it than she was regardless, and instead took the opportunity to examine them instead. They seemed dressed well enough for a tough journey, prepared, though the revolver at her waist was what caught her eye the most.
Was it like hers? Sasha had never met another person who could see the shadows like she could; not among the hunters at least and she didn’t really speak to anyone else if she could help it. She’d also never told anyone about why she always kept an unloaded revolver on her at all times, so she didn’t know if the things it could do were common. The sidearm wasn’t a hunting weapon that much was certain, which meant it was either meant for use against the shadows or for use against… people.
Sasha looked away from Toni.
The next person to arrive was also a young woman and though this one was not armed, she was very talkative. Sasha listened at first, long enough to learn their name, but quickly began to tune the other girl out as she continued to talk; she pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, as she fought down the urge to leave and find a job with fewer people involved.
Before she could lose her nerve Yiya began to speak again, asking them to help her put things away. Sasha stood up and stepped off of the rug so it could be rolled up, then picked up the bowl that she was pointed to and carried it to the edge of the platform. She tipped the contents out onto the railbed, mostly ash from whatever it was Yiya was smoking, and held the empty bowl out for the machine, Echoh, to take. Thin, robotic arms shot out from the terrarium and snatched the bowl from between her fingers before she could react, surprising her enough that she didn’t notice where exactly it put the bowl afterwards.
She listened, then, as Yiya explained the purpose of her journey and her need for an escort. The plant the terrarium held was needed to cure her village of a Rue; the old woman didn’t mention any medicine, just that the plant itself would repel the Rue, which was strange. If the plant would protect her village, why would she need an escort to protect her from the Rue? Unless it only worked on that one kind of Rue? But then why did it sound like she expected it to draw other Rue to her to stop her from reaching her village?
Any further questions Sasha might have had were interrupted when one of the other girls, Toni, brought their attention to the rails, the approaching train and a shadowy figure in front of it. It was tall, even hunched over as it was, and thin. The way it stood, the way it began to spread its arms, it looked like it was going to try and stop the train in its tracks. Sasha didn’t know if it could, she had always been unsure how real the shadows were, what they could do, but just in case…
A hand moved to the holster under her coat and Sasha pulled free her father’s revolver. Holding it with both hands she aimed it at the shadow’s back, held her breath and pulled the trigger. It kicked in her hands, despite holding no bullets and produced a gunshot that only she, so far, had been able to hear.
Less than a day ago, she had still been a regular teenager. Akeno had been a few months away from graduating high school but already knew which university she was going to attend; she was still living at home with her parents but was already thinking ahead to when she would finally move out and be able to live by herself. Her biggest worry had been what she was going to do with her new found independence and whether or not she had picked the right classes.
Now here she was, killing wild animals with her bare hands.
Her elbow hurt where it had struck horn and bone, the body she now inhabited not as conditioned, as toughened up as her previous one. There was blood too, just a few drops of it; not her own, but the blood of the creature she had just bludgeoned to death, running down her forearm.
A sigh escaped her lips as the message popped up in front of her eyes, telling her what she already knew. It disappeared almost as suddenly, apparently reading her dismissive attitude as an actual dismissal. How did that work anyway? Why was she seeing messages at all? The goddess had said something about a system and their connection to it; was this that system?
She wasn’t given much time to think about it, as the old-sounding orc began to call out orders to their little group. The others would handle making a fire while Akeno went with her to chase down the last of the birds; there was no dissent and one of the others simply nodded and got to work. Akeno turned to look at the old orc and considered whether or not to do the same; the other orc was quickly setting themselves up as the leader, giving orders like this and coming up with the plan, and they’d all just kind of gone along with it because no one had a better idea. Now she was truly taking charge and they were still going along with it, just like they’d probably go along with her next idea too.
The question was did Akeno want to be a part of this group? Did she want to go along with what this stranger planned? She had her Elwet, she’d completed the requirements of the quest given to her by that orc back at camp; she could just leave now. Or, she could leave; do what she’d said earlier and just abandon the camp entirely and try to make her own way. Neither of those seemed like good ideas, but then neither did teaming up with a bunch of people she knew nothing about. Who were they, before all of this? What would they do with this second change? Could she trust them? Could she afford not to trust them?
Whatever. Better to go with what was working so far. Honestly, Akeno wasn’t good at this kind of thing; scheming, planning around other people, trying to figure out their motives. She was the kind of person who went with the flow of the situation; let other people take control and do what they wanted so long as it wasn’t too onerous. Life was easier that way. There were a few exceptions, times where fighting for her autonomy was worth the headache, but this wasn’t one of those times. Yet.
She shrugged at the old-voiced orc and began to walk out of the clearing, following the path scratched into the dirt by the fleeing Elwet.
The kick was more effective than Akeno had anticipated, knocking it clear off its feet and seemingly injuring or even breaking one of the bird’s wings, but like she had expected it wasn’t enough to put it down. Fatal or not, the creature apparently didn’t want to try being hit like that again and as soon as it was back on its feet it was running away from her and straight towards the backs of the other orcs.
She had been expecting another attack, counting on it even, so Akeno was caught a little flat-footed when it ran instead. Nonetheless, she began to chase after it, hot on the bird’s heels as it fled and flailed its way right into the tangle of bodies.
A prompt appeared in the corner of her vision telling her that the rest of the Elwet’s were either dead or had run away, meaning this was the last one left. Before it could recover and try to run again, Akeno leapt towards it, trying to mount its back and she reached out to grab hold of one of its antler-things. Holding its head in place and with her body now over the Elwet, Akeno raised her other arm above her head and brought her elbow down as hard as she could on the top of the creatures head.
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