Mortality: Chapters 4 & 5

Fantasy worlds come with fantasy problems.

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4. Boys and their toys

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          He awoke not to sunlight but thunder, annoyed and disoriented in the night with no way of knowing how much longer he could be sleeping in. (So this world rains too...) He thinks better of getting up hoping sleep will reclaim him. He'd been dreaming this time; a reel of everything he had seen since coming here. Of things he wanted to create yet. He tries to force out any thoughts that might latch on and keep him up. Rolling over to face the window he peeks his eyes open enough to just catch a flash of lightning through the sheet of rain hammering the window. Something felt weird with his body but sleep must have managed to eke back in for a time before he could consider it further because in the wave of thoughts and ideas swirling his mind there seemed to be a sudden lightening of the background and when he opened his eyes again the windows framed a dim, gray morning picture but a morning nonetheless. Forcing himself up he immediately moved into some warm up stretches and exercises hoping to uncrowd the lingering mental avalanche that his sleep so treacherously handed him in place of rest. When he feels sufficiently fired up he starts a full workout routine of calisthenics with the run he has of the room. Jumping jacks, push ups, crunches, squats, lunges, and kata.

          He tried forcing the thoughts into line enough that when he finished in a heavy sweat he could pop open his journal and quickly start scribbling ideas for what was to come before getting ready with a bath. He heated enough water to wash himself in the most necessary areas, soaping his nethers and washing his hair but otherwise opted to fill the tub with the cool unheated water to soak in. He closed his eyes and tried to find a meditative point while the cold bath proved effective at forcing the substantial heat out of his body. (The ambush. I had nothing to send back against their archers. Numbers could be a problem too.) He puts his focus to separating and analyzing the enchantments he had encountered the night before until he has done all he can with the theory side. Now it was time to work.

          He climbs from the bath and dries himself, applying deodorant but not clothes. Plunked naked at the desk with his notebook he checks what he'd written and starts with a simple pair of gloves. He is able to shape the supple goat skin perfectly to his fingers with constant on the fly tweaking. He takes out a new page to commit to brainstorming different rings. "So in this world silver is considered a superior magic conductor, right? Obviously it has to be a silver ring, which is perfect because most the rings I had at home were silver."
          *Are you talking to me?*
          Not wanting to skimp on the artistry just because these were tools Kire doodles his idea of a silver band with bold gold runes trimmed on. "Well I could just talk to myself, it would probably make for better conversation." For once the taunt seemed to work.
          *Yes. Of the various properties held by precious and semi-precious metals in this world Silver is the most associated with acting as a mana conduit. It is often used in enchanting for that purpose although gold is also well-regarded due to having a higher mana retention, holding a greater capacity for charging.*

          "You're talking about what's accepted and what's believed, but not necessarily what is." Kire was a thorough thinker and often considered his brain his top asset despite its quirks. "How much have people experimented with other materials?" He expected more of the same dry script but there was a pause just long enough to be awkward as if System was gauging their words to not say too much.
          *These metals were settled by trial and error across several cultures in history and the matter is considered quite academic across most nations.*
          Kire slams his pen down and jumps in his seat, pointing at the wall as if System sat across from him. "AHA! Caught you, you bastard. If I was off in my thinking you wouldn't waste an opportunity to be patronizing about it. Your non-answers are answers plenty." System kept their lips shut but as with the occasional other expression Kire was almost sure he felt an almost chuckle. "Alas, I don't have time for that much R&D just now and I need to be measured with my output." Committing to the drawing he had done he focuses at a point on the table.
          *Oh, you didn't notice?* System was back to their usual smug tone but Kire just hummed an 'mhm?' while his attention was tied on the thick silver band and his weaving an enchantment into it. System took every pleasure in stating what was, to them, the fully obvious. *Of course you didn't, poorly and bothered as you are. Your power grew a level. While you slept, naturally.*

--

          Kire had no training in magic nor even an intrinsic understanding of how it was leveraged. He knew all peoples of this world inherently had mana, but assuming for himself that he had been imbued with some on his reboot he was clueless on how to touch it. What he DID have was modern knowledge and technological savvy and the opportunity to draw parallels from magic to other sophisticated things that he did understand. The topic of silver and gold and their interactions with mana was familiar. "Like electricity. The silver gives the bus speed, gold is like the RAM. Orichalcum is a non-conductor. Almost any other material can be used with varying efficiency and compatibility by magic type...Just like Siddithi said with the Golem cores." He has crammed several bookmarks into his journal going back and forth to the notes taken in the library. "So I can do it...Like a computer." He considered the circuits on a computer board and tried to apply the weaving of the enchantment as if he was programming, visualizing it as forked branches and pathways. If someone were able to see magic the way he could through Item Creation a native to Misterra's enchantment might be perceived like a soft tapestry of stitched theory and instruction whereas his was a three dimensional web of commands. "It's not wrong if it works," He proudly announces and finally remembers to blink as his eyes start to dry, having just finished baking the enchantment into the core of the ring he had drawn and then fashioned.

          He could not activate relics with his own mana but the pervasive magical field that emanated from the earth tended to give most enchantments a natural self sufficiency where they would passively absorb the world's energies. For enchantments that requires a great deal of power expenditure this may not be enough but for the first rings he made it would be plenty. Slipping it on all he would have to do was focus his will on it and it would react-

          He jumps with a start at the sensation of the speed enhancing ring kicking on and immediately drops his focus. Taking a deep breath and shaking it out he tries again while trying to hold himself calmly. His perception quivers ever so slightly as he transitions to an enchanted state that doubles his reaction time, the accelerated bioelectric impulses of his nervous system registering though his sight as if he had just upgraded to 120 frames per second and was seeing everything in hyper detail. He goes to make some test movements and his arm swooshes through the air, his foot lurching forward. He practices in spurts of 10 seconds at a time, working his way up through the morning to 1 minute at a time as he acclimated to it. He tried some simple acrobatics, zipping through the room in arcs and sweeps with an agility that should not be possible for a human. The minute mark seems to be his limit because it is around that point that his spiking adrenaline starts to cloud the edges of his vision like a black frost which he knows from his past training is the first steps towards tunnel vision and fainting.

          Next is the strength ring, pure silver with its etched face showing a rectangular winding track pattern. Depending on how much he put into it he could double, triple or quadruple his muscle output. This was an easy one to test, adjusting his movement similar to how he did with the speed ring and keeping it as simple as gauging the effort of certain lifts with it against how they were without it. The magical reinforcement kept his muscles from tearing under the increased strain but he did feel them being taxed with the burn of a hard workout and decided this should also only be used sparingly as needed.
          What had been the enhanced property of a torc boosting physical durability and resistance now lived in a bimetallic intertwined cord of blackened silver and gold but Kire found he could not test this one as a heavy wave of exhaustion swept into him, slumping him onto the desk with its completion. He'd put a lot of mental strain into figuring out how to make the enchantment reactive to incoming harm and the exertion echoed through his power into his body. "I guess I should be glad I got this far...Suppose the enchanting demands would have been too much for me to even try without levelling up."
          *You're industrious I'll credit you that. You know yourself well and picked your power accordingly.*
          Splashing his face Kire finally decides to get dressed to take a lunch break. "Don't go getting flirty with me now System, I think we should keep this relationship professional."

          His trip up and down the stairs to the dining area had been a little rockier than normal. His body was filing multiple complaints about his experiments with it and the repeated switching on and off of magical fields in his organs. (Reminds me a little of how I first felt waking up in those spacey crossroads.) He had created three magical items already today which was a significant leap over what he had been doing so far but now he wasn't sure how fit he was to take a quest. (Maybe I'll just explore the city more and see what else I can find for supplies and inspiration while I recharge.) It was still raining so he skips the armour but brings his tunic, pulling the hood on and taking to the streets.

          The paving of the roads and sidewalks was immaculate and he could appreciate the blend of old world and sophistication better in the day as the details on the buildings were clearer than during his night time arrival two nights before. Crests and dates marked flagstones on signature buildings and neighbourhoods and in some areas he even caught glimpses of a sewer system. Stopping in at a cafe he asked about the latter and assuming he was a tourist they were happy to explain how the Artisan and Merchant's guilds collaborated on so many projects like the sewers and the street lights which gave Glimmerforge its sophistication.
          "The leadership of the Merchant's guild is idealistic and has big dreams about the future, and the Artisan's guild loves to be challenged and put their hearts into new exciting ideas." The barista had said. Kire could understand that as both a creator and optimist himself and as he sat under a street side awning with his hot drink-some strange spiced blend unique he did not think existed in his world-he wondered how he might someday fit among such contributions given the power he wielded.

          There was clock towers throughout the city and the first time he felt the need to look for one he lightly slapped himself on the cheek. (About time I dealt with that.) He'd owned pocket watches in his own time but not true mechanical ones and he wasn't ready to bring technology like batteries to this world yet. He plots a course around several regular daytime shops and is most fortunate to find there is a clockwork machinist under the banner of the Artisan's guild open. He also visits an Apothecary and buys a handful of different potions to study as well as a smithy to peruse more conventional arms than what he'd found in the Moonlight Market in getting a feel for some of the designs and makes to be found in this world although they mostly stocked tools and kitchenware. There are stables who can broker deals to breeders or sellers for buying a horse although no livestock was for sale on hand except at a monthly auction and he even finds there is a decent sized training grounds behind the Adventurer's Guild where members can use the space freely or enrol in programs. "Damn, this city really does have it all."
          *Arguably one of the top cities in the continent, not just Falkner. Although Valderon has taken insult from the notion and has engaged in a rivalry of sorts to outdo their neighbours in grandeur.*
          Kire stops walking and smiles wistfully. (It really is a fantasy world when rulers are competing to make the best places to live even if it is just a vanity thing. As opposed to...) These days it felt like you couldn't take five steps without tripping over some grand atrocity in his own world.

          One last stop he wanted to make for the day was the bank as the three hundred coins he still had outstanding to Siddithi would be a lot to lug around and he should like to be introduced to the financial system proper anyway. Detouring back to the hotel he grabs his rucksack and starts loading it with the coins, cinching it high on his back with a dramatic grunt to make the weight more manageable. "Gods damn, they have big banks but bills don't exist in this world yet? Maybe my first great invention should be the promissory note."
          While bills did not exist bullion was considered valid for trade and with his guild membership effectively doubling as a government ID (Which is pretty crazy considering they did nothing to verify anything I put on those papers...) he is able to exchange his coins for gold tablets that represented lump denominations with special engravings of authenticity and value issued by the bank.
          (Serves me for reading school kid's textbooks that I didn't learn about this sooner, I probably should have double checked that at the local library.)
          *You were too busy thirsting for Ogre women.*
          Kire suddenly snorts a choked laugh and the teller at the bank jumps. "Are you OK, sir?" Kire tries to keep it cool.
          "Yeah sorry, just remembered something funny. You had to be there." Once he is sorted with a tablet for 200 gold and a tablet for 100 gold to cover his tab he opts to top up on making himself an extra 100 gold bar in case he does more impulse spending. Feeling a thousand pounds lighter walking out than he had going in he wastes his final hours between dinner and market open to lurk by the guild's training grounds watching the other adventurers do their routines.

--

          Kire approaches the market from a different angle this time feeling a bit cheeky and wanting to surprise his appointment. He could actually be naturally quite stealthy, garish clothes notwithstanding and he took extra careful steps to not splash any of the puddles that remained. The rain had stopped late in the afternoon leaving the park rich with the smells of its greenery and though the humidity stuck to him Kire was relieved to find that the summers here were much more temperate than things had gotten to be in his own world, guessing the average day since arriving had hovered not much more than 20 degrees... A huge relief given his established relationship with summer days.
          Finding Siddithi's stall he drifts in from behind to slide up beside it, standing there quiet as a ghost until someone noticed. The man himself was entertaining another guest much as he had to Kire the night before, sweeping his hands over the selection and encouraging them to find the one that called out to them. One of the assistants finally noticed Kire with a start but did not out him yet and he put his finger to his nose in a shushing gesture and winked. She returned the gesture and turned away pretending to have never seen him. Eventually the other satisfied customer is packed with a new trinket and on their way and when Siddithi turns to see Kire he mocks heart palpitations. Kire begins their playful theatre.
          "Siddithi, my fondest friend! So many hours I have waited here in the rain with my heart breaking ever more by the minute as I watched your infidelity, locking eyes with that customer so passionately!"

          The merchant puts his hands up in surrender and bows three times. "Kire, my most esteemed business partner! When I had been open for one minute and did not see you I had thought for certain a Gryphon had snatched you up, for surely no other thing could keep you from destiny, and in my grief I buried myself in my work!" The men paused, laughed and clasped hands in a firm shake.
          Kire presented the gold tabs and Siddithi offered to return the pouch of small gemstones he'd left as collateral but he waves it off. "Consider it a gift for you, or if you must, a deposit on future transactions. I will not be in Glimmerforge long but I am sure I will be back in the future and I will remember that Siddithi has the most exciting wares."

          Siddithi briskly waves a finger and makes nicking sounds with his tongue. "Siddithi, I, cannot simply accept a gift and not reciprocate!" One of his assistants was tending to a kettle to prepare tea for the night while the other wafted about the entrance to lure in more prospective guests. Easing out of the drama for a moment Siddithi's pointed finger drifts around the tent as if trying to remember where he put something. 'Ah', he slides a narrow box out from a shelf under one of his tables and opens it as he presents it, explaining as Kire takes it.
          "Admittedly the gemstones are not worth an exceptional amount except for their cut which Siddithi, I, presume you were carrying to be used in jewel-crafts." The merchant was not shy and reaches out to take Kire's hand and holds it up revealing the three new rings he wore. "Because these are clearly a means of your own trade it would be remiss of me to not give you a token in return." The box held a wide, black silk band and though the material was very fine Kire could read as he touched it that this too was enchanted. Siddithi continues: "This tie will open your eyes as those of a Lynx! Darkness will be dispelled in your sight. A regrettably stigmatized enchantment as it is often believed to be marketed for burglars but it is also invaluable to adventurers who find themselves in deep, dark places. Should the moonlight ever be hidden behind the clouds, you will be able to make your way home still."

          Kire ties it loosely around his wrist and focuses his will into it as with activating his rings. He squints as the lighting in the tent shifts and becomes too much and he steps back to turn his gaze out into the park. Finding the darkest and most neglected corner he tries again, the pitch blackness peeling back into a greyscale where every branch of the shrubs was distinct.
          "It is said with gifts it is the thought that counts, and I believe this will be of far more value to me than you know, Siddithi."
          Another customer had approached the stall and before Siddithi turns to them he waves with a curtsy. "Please let it help you find your way here again."

--

          Fast forward to next morning and Kire is back to waking up in time with the first light which hadn't even made it through the buildings to his window. In the still dark room he dresses light and decides to take his exercise to the road on a jog to the guild hall training grounds. It was a misty morning still damp from the previous day's rain and inspecting the obstacle course he had to wipe down some equipment of lingering wetness to make it safe for use but otherwise he wishes for nothing but perhaps some music. Climbing, vaulting, crawling, rolling, weaving, balancing. He throws himself into these movements with vigour imagining all the things he might encounter in whatever this story wrought and wanting to not just be prepared but over prepared. A stubborn perfectionist, his talents when he chose to hone them were always to an unrelenting standard as he would not let himself settle for less which made for a harsh self-critic when it came time to perform despite his otherwise laid back attitudes. Whenever he stumbled once he would forcibly repeat the exercise over and over until he was satisfied with his prowess.

          Few other people came about for the couple hours he was there, trekking back to his room for another bath after which he returned to the proverbial drawing board. "One more ring I think...Offensive. Flamethrower." While Kire's time on the course was spent imagining cliff walls and fallen logs his runs to and from were spent visualizing equipment upgrades. This one he doesn't need to draw out first: The silver signet ring had copper embellishments and a large ruby in the face with two smaller beads of gold to either side of it. He reviews the fire projection enchantment from one of the wands a couple nights before and 'reprograms' the spell to do away with the limiter it had been structured for.
          (The volume of flame is important but the force it will be cast with more so. If I'm getting my theory right it should be able to soak up enough energy to be fired twice a day but unfortunately I can't very well test it here, so that will have to wait.) He also starts on a new pair of proper steel bracers with a mounting bracket on the underside of each one and he puts them on to go over sizing and adjustments, adding curves here or thickness there and streamlining the fasteners.

          Now he busts out the books. "That's today's warm up concluded, I think." Cracking his knuckles he makes sketch after sketch checked against measurements of his arm and bracer. This would be his first great distinguishing tool beyond the trinkets he had conjured so far... A proper feat of fantasy engineering. With a handle on how to make basic enchantments crossed over on mechanical components he pores hours into choosing which elements to use in which fine pieces of its inner workings. Where high tensile strength was essential, the pins in the reel would be tungsten. Can't be too brittle though; the reel itself where the wire was anchored would be titanium along with several other fine cogs and switches. High carbon steel was sprinkled into the control mechanism which for aesthetic purposes held a bronze pin with rounded cap protruding from the housing which didn't need to be any tougher than oxidized aluminum. The wire was the trickiest part and he had to remember to close his eyes to not dry them out again with how long he ended up scrolling his options.
          (That's the one. At this thickness I should be able to house...30 feet.) A flared collar capped the cylindrical device to protect the hand from any whipping about on retraction and with one end of the cable firmly anchored into the reel the other was capped by a square-profiled spike of regular steel with short hooks protruding out two of its sides.

          He latches the device to his right bracer and admires it. The cylinder totalled sixteen inches in length with the protective collar just ahead of his fingers when clenched in a fist and its opposite end protruding a few inches past his elbow. He moves his arm in wide circles to get a feel for the added weight and resists the urge to push the control pin that was hooked on the inside of his arm. The outside of the cylinder had an open port to reduce material weight that revealed the coiled cabling inside. "Guess I can't test this in here either," he grunts, but also realizes he has wholly skipped lunch again. Dressing for adventure and with new bracers on he dips for a midday meal and a reunion with the training grounds.

--

          The grounds had become more populated in the last few hours but he still managed a reasonable distance and feeling of privacy in one of the back corners. (Might as well get the ring out of the way first, see if it performs as hoped.) He holds his left hand adorned with all four rings straight out in front of him. Clenching into a fist and giving an extra fidget of the fingers to make sure the ruby was properly facing forwards he braces himself and wills the ring.
          One of the nearer folks in the yard screamed in surprise and threw themselves to the ground. They hadn't been anywhere near the path of the blast but Kire couldn't blame them because he probably would have done the same in their shoes. The 'push' vector he exaggerated in the enchantment did not disappoint as a short lived but spectacular cone of flame erupted with jet-like force. One of the instructors for a class some ways down jumped up to yell at him. "Hey! Practising magic isn't against the rules but don't be doing anything too destructive!" Kire holds his hands up in surrender and yells back several apologies for the glares he was catching. Checking his hand the gloves he'd made did the trick not burning his own fingers from the heat that had come off it but he'd felt it pretty sharply nonetheless. In terms of checking the range of this new weapon...He walked along a track where the grass had browned and wilted from the proximity below his infernal release and counting steps he estimates it had managed to singe a good eight metres. (Yeeppp yep yep yep. That's enough of that but ah...Good to know it works. Now for the tricky one.)

          Near the end of the obstacle course on the grounds was an independent structure of wooden beams and metal bars that challenged its takers to leap, climb and balance from one tier to the next but all Kire needed from it right now was a single crossbar twenty feet up. He lifts his right arm and hooks his finger on the knobbed control pin that was held into its seat by spring tension. He pulls it back against its spring, pushes it to the side into an open groove running down much the length of the cylinder, and releases it. With the spring snapping the pin to the front it triggers the magnetically fired harpoon head giving a slight whistle alongside the high pitched unwinding of the reel within its chamber. The grappling hook does clear the bar but Kire lets it run its length fully until gravity eased it down to settle slack over the other side. Not wanting to risk any accidental escalations he pulls the wire back by hand until it is slumped on the ground and tugs the pin back into its rear position which engages the carefully enchanted motor to call its line back in. Through its exposed port he watches the sliding wire guide run up and down rapidly but evenly respooling the steel thread until the barbed projectile had thunked back into its dock. The next test is to launch it again, the pin snapping forward to fire the head but he pulls it to the side in another groove mirroring the parked position and it hits a brake in the reel stopping the wire at only half its length. Retract. Fire. Retract. Fire. Retract. Moment of truth.

          The mechanism was holding up and his gut felt like a butterfly conservatory thinking about what he was about to do next. (I can't very well NOT, this is the whole purpose of it after all.) This time when he launches his hook he times it to a curve of his arm in a stunted movement like casting a fishing line. The forward momentum loops the hook over the bar-brakes-and he grabs the wire between two fingers to give it a quick shake looping it into the hook and carefully inching back the pin just enough to eat the slack. Deep breaths.
          *What's the worst that can happen? So what if you mess up, it's only a 20 foot drop. A couple broken legs, cranial traumatic injury, a U shaped spine...Big deal, You can make yourself the finest wheelchair to spend the rest of your life in!*
          Deep breaths. (Thank you System. I appreciate that.)
          Pull.
          The reel hisses with the load but has plenty of force to spare. Kire is relieved the ascent is as slow as it is at first with inertia coming to terms against his weight but he does pick up speed until he jambs against the loop where the hook is and a secondary e-brake engages from the resistance. He lets out a way too loud groan-sigh of relief with that single possible point of failure having been his biggest fear in all this and somewhere below there is a frantic 'What the fuck?!'
          (Well the stop wasn't very gentle but at least I did stop.)
          *I had twenty silvers on you braining yourself on the bar and going over it like a leaping fish.*
          (You didn't bet shit because you have no friends to bet with!) He unparks the pin and slides it half an inch to let the reel relax under resistance to descend at a much slower pace until his feet were mercifully back on the ground. With enough slack he takes to shaking and swinging the wire which lasts a few awkward moments until he can finally jostle the hook off it before retracting the line proper.
          (This is going to take a looot of practice.)

--

          Eventually satisfied with his handling of the device and feeling confident in his growing armaments he scrolls the quest board on his way to find food The ride he planned to take back left in two days so while looking for a challenge but nothing too involved one of the guild employees brings up a new posting. "HUNT: HAMMERTUSK BOAR"
          (A fully grown Hammertusk Boar had emerged from Eldergrove to attack a homestead, causing significant damage and wounding several people before retreating back to the trees. Three star difficulty, parties with beast hunting experience recommended, pay is 40 gold...Seems awfully high compared to what I've taken so far.) He promptly takes the job number figuring it was as good as any and checks it out at the reception with the intent of starting at first light.
          He has some hours of the day to kill and spends it asking around for intel on the attack and if there was any rides out to the farmstead. With repairs already underway on the victimized infrastructure there was several loads of material and aid slated to go the next day and he books his passage on the earliest run. All that and dinner out of the way and there was nothing to do but hurry up and wait...Which he did from the comfort of his rented bed, propped up on pillows with his journal.

          *Does your mind ever take a break?* System almost managed to sound like a concerned friend.
          "Look man, I'm not from around here. I don't have a life. I don't have established hobbies here, or friends or family, no home or history or even a real job. Five proverbial minutes ago you were all tits a-giddy that I was actually taking on quests and playing to the bit, now you gonna give me mom talk about my work ethic?"
          *Oh no, I know you're thinking hard about work to avoid thinking about the rest. Still a good way to crash and burn.*
          Kire closed his eyes and cursed under his breath. "Yeah...I know. I haven't had a vacation since I was seven years old and this seems like a lousy place to start." He gets out of bed and goes over his things; His equipment was all neatly sorted and folded on the desk, his clothes all washed and hung to dry near the small heater. "I guess I have to admit it feels like I might as well have smashed my head off that bar. My brain has as good as overheated into a soup." He stood in the middle of the room regarding everything with his hands on his hips just trying to place himself.
          *You'll need to relax eventually. Maybe go find yourself a blushing waif.*
          Kire had started undressing instead and snuffed the candles. "Honestly about all I feel up to is sleeping. Gotta be up early anyway."
          Resting a water bottle and the modified time piece he had picked up while shopping on the bedside stand he rolls in and closes his eyes. Sleep does not come easy. His first thought was to review what he had read about Hammertusk Boars in the library but he finds his mind drifting back to his friends from his own world. The pang of loneliness and not knowing pulled a surprise sniffle from him and he felt a hot tear on his cheek, but sleep made its timely intervention as the tiring day of creation and training took its toll.

--

          It was still dark in the room when Kire fastened himself together. Brisk and businesslike he gets to the rendezvous point and helps out loading the supplies. The larger structural lumber beams would be worked out in the field on-site but there was still nearly a full cord of wood along with several hundred metres of cordage, a skid of bricks, bags of plaster and some food. Having pulled his hair back and tying it into a bandana to curb the sweat he slaps the bricks calling up to the lady up top fastening things down.
          "Damn thing really did a number on them huh? Posting said there was damage but it looks like this little piggy must have huffed and puffed and blown their whole house down."
          The other labourer had a grim expression and only flicked her eyes over to meet his for a second. "More or less. Crushed several fences, trampled crops, rammed through the barn and almost took the entire thing down. Clipped the house too. Two horses and a bull dead, five people wounded. It's extremely rare for a fully grown adult to be encountered out in the open since the nobility does regular hunts to keep their population down and to try and cull them before they reach this size, but they're damned bad news when you do find one."

          Kire recalled the field guide. Despite their name it wasn't just their thick, forward sweeping tusks like battering rams anchored to their skull hat were the problem but said skulls were massively armoured with protruding bone ridges as well. They were substantially bulkier than even the so-called giant boars of his own plane with much shorter snouts to not get in the way of the impact area when they rammed their prey or anything else that moved and a lot of things that didn't.
          With everything finally ready to go he slumps himself on the wagon and closes his eyes with his hood up for the forty five minute ride trying and failing to empty his mind. (The hide on their back is three inches thick, with a six to eight inch layer of fat...)
          Over the low din of the horse's hoof beats, creaking axles and chattering workers he opened his eyes when the soundscape changes. Standing up and stretching his back the view is of teams of workers organized into groups throughout the field ahead. Large two-person saws were at work, the hammering of nails and shouts of team leaders timing pulled ropes. The fences had already seen a good deal of mending but otherwise it just was as the lady had said; The house had been clipped in the corner and given some new ventilation where a hole big enough to climb through had been left as a token of the boar's affection. The barn looked like it was barely standing and angled beams were being drawn up to its sides to shore it for stability while new supports were added and old ones fixed. He hopped off to walk to the last couple hundred metres and get his blood flowing again.

          Asking his way around to the client the land's owner is found inside the house being all but forcibly held down in bed. The haggard man's leg was splinted and in the process of being cast by someone Kire thought he might have seen at the apothecary the other day. The mistress of the home was holding what Kire guessed was a butter churning plunger and looked ready to use it to keep the patient from trying to escape.
          "You're from the guild, huh?" The farmer winced and grimaced while the apothecary worked. "When you find that pig make sure to tell it I sent ya when you deliver its prickly fat arse to hell!"
          "Jameson, stop moving and calm down. You'll heal better without all the fussing." The healer, a Halfling woman, had a soft but firm voice that had surely been honed on many such obstinate patients.
          Kire was about to do a ridiculous mock salute but thought better of it considering how livid his client was already. "Yessir, I'll even charge the big shitter interest for your animals."
          Passion lit the farmer anew who looked ready to jump out of bed and lead the charge himself with trumpets blaring but his wife readied the plunger and he managed to grit his teeth and stay prone with a wetness coming to his eyes. "You...You do that." The struggle of a stern old-fashioned man trying not to let go with his feelings. "You get that bastard good."

          Back in the yard the rounds are made talking to the less busy workers for details, just trying to be thorough. Following the hoof-tilled soil towards the property line fence Kire hears a familiar voice calling and turned to see Arnes jogging up. "Kire! You here about the contract on the boar?"
          Kire couldn't help but smile. Alone in an alien world any familiar face was quite uplifting, he just discovered. "Ahoy old timer! Caught me in the act. I was just about to follow that quaint little path of devastation and see if I can't find where this great wild wanker ended up. Hopefully it won't take several hours."
          Arnes furrowed his brows and tilted his head towards freshly mended fence. "Ennnhh I don't think it'll take very long. We fixed the fence but the forest will tell you everything you need to know about exactly where it ended up. Good to know there's already people on it, the folks here have been scared witless of it coming back. Well except for crotchety Jameson...Got hurt trying to protect the barn like a damn fool and despite his broken leg hasn't stopped trying to get up to work the repairs since. I think Elaine is ready to prescribe heavy leather straps to fasten him down with, if she were any less saintly probably would have already."

          Kire could have guessed that was what was up. Some people just hit a stereotype so hard and the bedridden Tasmanian devil of a man even had an appropriate name for reasons Kire could not explain to anyone born of Misterra. "Well on the point of making sure it doesn't come back, I'm going to pound dirt and get this little piggy to market. Actually hold on a minute-Why are you here?"
          The dwarf took a swig from a waterskin, shading his eyes for a moment. "Ah, I should really get a hat. Actually they and I are neighbours! For all my time behind the reins I do get some leave here and there, is why the long layover until we return to Thornwick. Got a few days with the family just down on the next lot over. We could hear the carnage from there and met a runner on the road coming for help."
          (Small world but I guess it makes sense he would live close enough to his job.)

          "Y'know Kire, if you're back at a decent hour today why don't you come over for dinner! With all this helping out neighbours my kin have gone overboard and I fear there is a conspiracy to make way too much food tonight. Ye're a growing boy yet. Your next quest: Save us from food spoilage!" Arnes laughed and clapped a hand on Kire's lower back.
          The younger but much taller human put on a bold smile and plunked his fists on his hips with his chest puffed triumphantly. "A perilous task sir, but I shall see it through! Don't work too hard today Arnes, you've gotta stay awake on the road tomorrow." Despite how easily he rolled with it he was quite surprised at the wild change in demeanour of the Dwarf who had been so serious while at work.
          As he turned and strode for the treeline Kire's composure faltered with a storm of strange feelings. He was touched by the friendliness and hospitality he had been so readily offered and his heart wobbled trying to take it in. His smile returned genuine and he vaulted the fence, landing in a sprint through the shaded lesser trees of the forest's fringe where a clear path of destruction had been laid like a grand cannonball had been fired into the bush.

          Back in the field Arnes got back to his team and they readied to get back to work from their break. Ennes' gaze lingered in the direction of Kire's departure, squinting in the sun. "Is the rest of his party on their way to meet up with him?"
          Arnes shrugged. "He didn't say anything about it. When I saw him I kind of assumed the brothers would be showing up too."
          Ennes returned the shrug, "He's probably just scouting ahead of the rest of his party then." They got back to the task at hand, pulling ropes over their shoulders between their team of six to drag a freshly sawed beam to the barn.

==========

5. Where there's smoke

==========

          Though he had his rucksack the only things Kire had packed into it for this excursion was some small dried snacks, extra water and rope. The further down the trail he goes the darker the woods get and the more eerie the atmosphere. He slows his jog for a while to munch a nut bar he had taken for the road and stops to urinate on a tree trying to make sure he was fully ready for the encounter. The vast and ancient upper branches of the enormous trees like sequoias muted the sunlight enough that things went from shady to a dim twilight as he ventured into the more mature reaches of the colossal woods. Trees had chunks of bark scraped off of them and a large rock had even been shattered while everything else up to ten feet in height had been mangled and crushed.
          (Job couldn't be made easier if it had posted neon signs the whole way. It got some mileage in but that's about the only favour it did itself.) He could understand the many superstitions and stories around these woods now that he was in them although the crashing wave of pork seemed to have deterred most other wildlife and he saw little despite feeling the presence of a great deal. Most disturbingly he thought there might be eyes on him and not in the same way as he had ascribed to the usual presence of System.

          The forest gets quieter now except for a shifting and rustling ahead. He slows his roll where there is a bend in the broken bushes and trampled undergrowth and peeks around the corner to finally find his quarry. Eighteen hands high to the shoulder there stood a bristled tank with its back to him while it rummaged over something on the ground.
          "Damn, that's a huge bitch!" Kire calls out loud to provoke its attention while quickly scanning the canopy above and spaces around between the trees to map out escape routes having already considered a plan about how to use the terrain along the way. As an apex predator the boar only startles insofar as all of its muscles twitching visibly beneath its course fur coat. It stomps around to turn and face its new victim and Kire sees it is crunching on something that might have been a deer, bloody strips of flesh hanging from its jaws and bones snapping loudly between its teeth.
          (Fuck.)

          Acting quick Kire thrusts his right arm straight above himself and repeats the motion he had practised at the training grounds to send a cable at one of the lower branches above. His ascent aligns with the boar's charge and the tang of adrenaline fills his mouth as it looks like he might not be pulled up out of the way in time. As he reels up he throws out his left hand and fires his flamethrower ring at the monster's face, the oxidizing mana hitting with rocket force but not deterring the porcine predator with the flame raking over its back as it passes underneath Kire nearly close enough to clip his boots and crashing into the wilderness past where the adventurer had just stood. When he gets to the branch he wastes no time swinging his legs up and untangling the hook just as he'd practised and jumping on the adrenaline high before he can register how high up he is he runs across the branch to where it passed by another from the tree the boar had been standing by when he arrived, jumping over to it.

          (Not surprised that didn't work, it's just too tough on the outside.) Digging a hook into the bark he rappels down in a controlled descent, shaking his line off and retracting it in one fast snap. "Heeere pigpigpigpigpig! SoooEY! SOOOOEYYY!"
          The gigantified snorting of the hog had been as a bassy threatening rumble sounding more like a tiger than a pig but now it responded through the growth with an almost deafening squeal that made Kire's ears ring. Stomping and bucking in a furor its head peeks back into the space between trees to find its high-visibility target taunting loudly. "As every good foe needs a name I shall dub thee...Biggus Piggus!"
          Another dreadful squeal and it drives its hind legs back mulching and shredding large roots as easily as the soil. Kire had to time this part very carefully and activated his speed ring the instant the boar kicked off. With only six metres between them and the wild hulk having uncanny acceleration for its size Kire crouched enough to put tension in his legs and waited for it to close the gap until he saw its eyes close-a detail only made possible for observation by his magically accelerated nervous system.

          With the boar's pre-impact reflex in play expecting to turn the ridiculous man into a mist and a memory Kire leaps to the side. The colossal ancient tree at his back thunders and cracks but does not give way to the demonic swine, the sound ringing through the forest high and far sending flocks of birds scattering to the skies while Biggus Piggus, who had thus far managed a lifetime of instinctively avoiding ramming things stronger than itself, spasmed as the impact rattled through its brain and spine.
          Blood ran from its nose for the first time ever and one tusk took on a deep fracture matching that of the tree-but Kire saw none of this for as soon as he had hit the ground he starts off on all fours then pushes up to his hind legs scrambling to get behind his foe. Biggus staggered, stunned, and the wily Human found his point of attack.
          Kire takes a running leap and just before contact holds his breath and closes his eyes to slam his fist as deep as he can manage into the stumbling animal's asshole. Though its senses were still too scrambled to react to the invasion it found the strength to scream and buck when Kire ignited the second charge on his flamethrower ring inside of it. Kire winced and cried out himself as that much force poured into the body cavity had some kickback onto his own hand and arm buried virtually shoulder-deep. His senses were hammered in short order by the flash of burning and his arm dislocating when the hindquarters he was fastened to suddenly bucked up with more force than inertia would kindly allow for him to handle unpunished. Using his right arm and drawing on the strength ring he is able to push himself off and dislodge, trying not to land on his lamed arm and protecting it as he rolled out of the way on his forehead and knees.

          Biggus stamped and thrashed from the pain, blood still gushing from its nose and now eyes. Kire scrabbled to get up with his balance thrown by the injury and shuffles to get behind one of the nearby trees for cover. The ground shakes with the fury of the grievously wounded boar but the injuries were hardly immediately fatal and Kire carefully lines himself up against the tree by his shoulder, aligning his arm by feeling the feedback of bone to bone and thrusts his weight on to it to pop it back into place with a strained hiss through gritted teeth.
          (Now how the hell am I supposed to finish it off? How long will it take to succumb to its injuries?)
          The boar no longer had the fully working brain or clear vision to negotiate its way through the woods and was left crashing and stumbling against the giant trees that now served to act as its cage like a pinball. Kire didn't think he would get a second chance at the internal ploy and crinkling his nose in disgust at the sight and smell of his arm he didn't want to anyway. He considers a poison he could try to use but he doesn't have any real experience with such things to synthesize one. (Make some spears that it could drive itself on to? No no they would probably just snap and this would take all day...) The squealing and snorting out of sight started to dim into faltering whines and the ruckus kicked up by its protracted death throes calms into an irregular pattern of hoof beats.
          *Maybe it won't take so long after all.*

          He goes the opposite way around the tree as where he came to put some distance between him and where he thought the wounded but still dangerous animal was. It was still stumbling, eyes shut from the blood that had wept out from internal injuries and its breathing was laboured from the mouth. Its snout was flush with blood and other fluids as was the curtain of drool where it panted. Finally losing strength it looked about to lay down but crashed over to its side halfway there. Kire approached cautiously in case it got a second wind but Biggus did not react to his presence.
          *I'll be damned, looks like you actually pulled this off.*

          The creature was still breathing but barely and Kire tossed a snapped twig at it which only produced a faint whine and flimsy kick of a foreleg. "Well I'll be damned, looks like I did. These things make for good cooking?"
          *Even for you I wouldn't expect such poor tastes as to enjoy parasite-ridden leather so I would suggest against it. One of the additional reasons they are hunted long before they reach this size.*
          Kire imagined something like this reaching Thornwick. "That and they'd be a gods-damned catastrophe for any settled area. Like a bulldozer against mice. Alas, it can be out-thunk in an arena like this." Kire steps behind a tree again feeling an inexplicable need for privacy and uses his item creation power for the first time today to make a wooden wash tub with hot water and soap to clean his gear. Stripping off his tunic and chainmail he also makes a second smaller tub of cold water to handle the first degree burns on his hand which he follows up on with ointment and gauze. When he's done he dumps the basins but otherwise leaves them for the forest, returning to the felled mammoth of a swine whose breathing had stopped and their body going cold.

          Drawing his falchion Kire starts hacking at the tusks and remembering how one of the first people he met at the gates of Thornwick had a crate tied to their back he uses his rope to fasten the cuts to himself. Flipping up the time piece from his belt he takes a deep and satisfied breath. "And I can still be back in time for dinner." As he left he felt eyes again, sending a bit of a shiver up his back.
          (Are these woods always this spooky though?)

          More of the crew than not were on break when he returned, heads turning to follow and gawk at the two enormous curved tusks strapped over his shoulders. It had been a tremendous workout bringing them back but he wanted proof for the guild and thought Jameson would appreciate a trophy. The valley looked later than it really was with the sun starting to settle beyond the mountains and someone standing by the door of the house hurriedly ran inside when they spotted him. Before Kire could close the gap Jameson hobbled out supported by a pair of crutches and his wife with the additional close supervision of the healer.
          Unslinging the tusks to plunk them on the ground with a relieved sigh Kire turns to hoist up the unbroken one and present it. "Biggus Piggus the demon boar is no more...And here's the interest I promised to charge them." The old farmer's mouth twitched and worked independently at both ends like it was trying to decide on what expression to make. Kind of looked like it wanted to be a smile. He shifted looks between Kire and the two tusks. "I'll take the cracked one."

--

          Strolling down the laneway to Arnes' home Kire wonders about the contents of the sealed letter Jameson had provided him. Confirmation of job completion obviously, but it seemed odd that he wasn't allowed to read it himself. Having carried all he could of the enormous tusks and absolutely famished from the effort he'd left both at the Jameson farm to pick up the other on his way back into town later.
          "So uh...Your party never showed up huh?" Arnes tried to play coy about the question but Kire looked down quizzically.
          "My party?"
          The old Dwarf let himself embrace the stress he had been trying to push off as his suspicion is confirmed, aggressively craning his head to the young man in the waning light. "You seriously signed up to hunt THAT all alone? And then you ACTUALLY managed to kill it? If you hadn't thought to bring back those tusks everyone would call you a liar!"
          Kire shrugged with a soft smile. "Thought they'd make decent souvenirs." There is a bit of movement in one of the lit windows and seconds later the front door swings open with three Dwarven children storming out to swarm their dad and guest: Two daughters and a son between the three of them, roughly between the ages of 6 and 10.
          "You brought someone! Is it a coworker?" "Is he from the farm?" "Why is he a human?" Kire was probably more amused than he should have been at that one but the indefatigable Arnes grabs the smallest to throw over his shoulder like a screaming sack of vegetables and tickled her bare feet. "Give us room to breathe will ya!"
          Inside was Arnes' wife and elderly mother having already set everything for the evening and tending to a large boiling pot. Arnes started laying on the honey. "If it's no trouble my dear I thought we could make room at the table for one more. Actually I had expected at least three more but today has been a day of shaken expectations."
          The wife who's name had been mentioned along the way as being Isadora gave Arnes a run-through of looks that Kire couldn't fully name but he took it as Arnes not being the type to host often. "Shaken expectations indeed," she said wrangling their son and pointing to the cupboard for him to retrieve another table placement. The kids are introduced as Jaina, Arnes (Jr.) and Isanna and his mother as Isolde.

          They try to make small talk over dinner but it involves a lot of bombarding questions from the kids about the orange-clad human, and then the giant pig, and then how many ghosts are in Eldergrove, and then and then... Eventually they are shooed off to their baths and day-end routine while the adults got to talk more freely. Arnes' parents had moved from the mountains to settle in the area before he was born as his mother had a chronic illness that did not agree with the air higher up. His father had also succumbed some years back to something that was described like a tetanus infection, and Arnes had a brother but they worked abroad and visited rarely. For his part Kire had to deflect a great deal and kept his hosts on their toes with a sustained offensive of questions since he could only be so vague about his own home and travels.
          The kids return and with the sky having darkened the family starts doing some heavy work persuading Kire to spend the night rather than be on the roads after nightfall while Arnes had disappeared. Conceding his great fatigue from his hiking, the fight, and especially hauling his spoils it is revealed that Arnes had already set to preparing some blankets over a straw pile in a small and vacant stable attached to the house.

          Apologizing that they did not have a proper guest room the space had been made quite comfortable just the same and he would not have turned down such lodgings even if the circumstances had offered more choice. Goodnights said he settles in, propped up as if on a colossal bean bag. Weapons and armour were stowed in his sack and tucked away and he wrapped up his daily journalling briefly before bed catching giggles and eyes peeking around the corner into the stall. He pretends not to see them and gets up to put out the light, a glass-contained lamp set apart from the straw. Slumped back he counts the seconds until slight footsteps catch his hearing patting along the stonework. One body slinks less than gracefully beside him to one side, and then a second crammed on below them. A third adds itself to his right side.
          *Hm, seems for whatever reason they took a liking to you. Truly the standards of children cannot be trusted.*
          Kire didn't talk back, or move or even really think. He didn't respond to system and he didn't haywire himself trying to plot out his next device or quest. His lip trembled and he closed his eyes as another storm of confusing emotions hit.

--

          There was a rooster somewhere on this property and it took mornings serious. This was the first time Kire hadn't woken up on his own and with a little more light visible through the narrow slotted windows than he was used to greeting him. He was alone on the straw pile but a broad sliding door to the outside opened up just enough that small hands with whispered schemes coaxed the rooster into the space he'd slept. Its feet dutifully pattered like a drill sergeant, advancing on the lazy guest for reveille. Its crowing reverberating off the walls in the small space said it would not tolerate such insubordination as to stay laying when it has so clearly announced the time to do otherwise and Kire stretches, sitting up and mock tipping an invisible hat to the pushy fowl. "Yes sir, right away sir."
          Shaking dust and loose bits of wandering straw from his hair Kire grabs his bag ready to leave immediately. Breakfast is offered but he declines, not wanting to take up more of their food after they spoiled him so already he uses the excuse that he needed to check out at the hotel. He does snack on the last of his rations on the way back to Jameson's farm to get his energy up before having to haul his trophy tusk all the long way back to town but to his great fortune one of the wagons from the supply run the day before was preparing to take people back into the city.
          Back in Glimmerforge his first stop is the guild hall , the singular tusk slung by rope across his back on a single over-the-shoulder cord now being much easier than two but he is eager to unload the burden just the same. Presenting the letter from Jameson, his guild card and job ticket he slumps the tusk against the booth and stretches again still feeling where the ropes pressed him the day before. The clerk reads the letter in silence but their forehead steadily gains wrinkles and their mouth becomes steadily more taut as they get through it. For the look they gave Kire when they finished he may as well have just pulled a gun on them. They lean forward to regard the tusk.

          "Is it that bad? Is he mad at me?" Kire put on a nervous, fake smile with eyes shifting between the tusk and the human woman behind the counter.
          "So to clarify, you did this without a party?" She skipped to answering his question with a question. He gave two thumbs up and beamed.
          "You followed an adult Hammertusk Boar of all things alone into the Eldergrove of all places, killed it, and went to the effort of bringing back its tusks? Just like that?"
          Kire's smile diminished nervously and he slowly lowers his upwards thumbs. "Was I...Not supposed to? Was that not the job?" (Oh gods did I fuck this up? What did I do wrong this time?!)
          *Oh you didn't read the fine print? You were supposed to capture it alive.*
          (That's bullshit! It's bullshit and you know it!)
          *I know but I thought it was worth a try.*
          Kire's face twitched slightly from the internal conversation. The clerk had signalled a runner to retrieve his file.

          "No, Mr...Kire. You did the job correctly and in fact the client had quite the feedback about the outcome-Positive feedback, don't worry. But-oh thank you-" she'd been handed the same envelope as had been handled a couple days prior. "-But this is..." She stalled again flipping between the few pages inside his folder. "Clarify for me again. You're a D rank?"
          "Yes."
          "You've been in the guild for a week?" Kire's eyes roll back as he recalls his journal entries.
          "...Yes?"
          "You killed this Hammertusk Boar?"
          "If it makes you feel better I had to shame myself to get the win."
          She did not look like she felt better about that. "Without rehashing his words Jameson the Rooted is strongly advocating a commendation for your work. If nobody has told you yet, that's quite unusual at your tenure. ESPECIALLY not getting two in one week."
          Kire shrugs and tries to look cute. He honestly wouldn't know what normal is or isn't in this world. She narrows her eyes at his reaction. "We will conduct a follow up interview with Mr. Jameson to ensure this is not falsified while we check that tusk for authenticity as well. We'd ask that you wait within the guild hall while we verify the tusk and if it checks out we will consider the quest completed. If the client interview can also verify the letter a commendation will be added to your record as well but this may take a couple days until we can afford the manpower."

          Kire gives a deep and slovenly nod. "Will the inspection take terribly long? I could do with lunch and I have a room to check out of."
          As if to answer the runner from before along with a second are picking up the tusk to haul off to one of the offices. The clerk indicates for him to stand to the side while she takes the next person in line. "It'll just be a moment." She manages to clear two other visitors before the tusk is brought back and restored to the position it had been lifted from and the first runner reports its authenticity. Kire's card is punched for completion, his file annotated and the payment retrieved.
          "Anything else?" Something about the way she asked reminded him of the way he had recreationally stressed Arune.
          "Yeah, I'd like to take a guard position for Route 33 back to Thornwick."

--

          One final bath in the narrow margin of time before he is due out of his room with a full round of shaving and grooming. Everything packed he takes the last seconds of his bought privacy and uses them to make a woven straw hat, as durable as he can and wide enough to protect from the sun. He hits up a lavatory and binges a good lunch before the run of road rations he now knows is coming and waits at the appointed place until he hears Thrain calling out the job number. This time there are five other guild members, true to what Arnes said previously about certain trips being higher value and Kire doesn't wait for directions to stake his place on the sturdier cart where another one of the assembled party called him a cheater for jumping the gun. "Oh by the way old man, isn't it about time you stopped baking in the sun like one of Jameson's potatoes?" He carefully lines up and drops the hat he'd made so that it falls straight onto the Dwarf's head, spooking him. "Not that bronze is a bad look but from all the sun I thought you were way too old to be having tots that young."

          When the wagons get mobile he and Arnes talk about the outcome of the previous trip. A quest had been issued to investigate the bandit activity but when a party went out the results were largely inconclusive; their assailants had packed and moved swiftly and been laying low with no sightings for three days of monitoring afterwards. "Just our bad luck they were out that day," Arnes had concluded.
          That made Kire feel better about how this trip might look and having twice as many guards didn't hurt either. At least one of the team riding in the vanguard wagon seemed to be a well-worn veteran. There was talk around the guilds and markets that criminal activity in the area had been spiking but neither Kire nor Arnes had lingered on it enough to gleam any details.
          Eventually Kire settles down to rest as before but not long after a whistle blows and he remembers the signal from their first trip with the horses stopping immediately. This time it is a runner from the lead wagon, Eshin himself, coming to them. Kire lifts his head to a wall of smoke over the hills...But no signs of fire. Having already tied his bag to the railing he feels inside for his telescope, slowly sweeping the length of the now smoke shrouded hills where they had been ambushed previously. He had put all his focus into watching rather than listening and did not catch the opening of the conversation below, but it was a fearful and uncertain one. When he does tune in it is Eshin talking.

          "The party who came out to look reported no further evidence of activity for three days, and now this? Just as we're on our way back with three towns worth of inventory? It stinks, and I have a dangerous feeling about it. Thrain agrees."
          "As do I." Arnes' knuckles gripped the reins with clear fear.
          "Suppose they'll be more ready for a ram the second time...But I can't see anything with all the smoke. They're doing a good job keeping their play hidden." Kire called down giving another sweep of the hill. Thrain and one of the senior adventurers who had probably been appointed party leader approached now as well.

          Thrain laid out the facts. "We can't charge them again. We can't risk losing another horse and especially not with us only being hours out of Glimmerforge. Their smoke gave us enough warning this time that we can divert ourselves but we have no idea what kind of numbers or traps they have out there and the unkempt hills would be perilous enough for the wagons at speed even without an ambush."
          The rest of the adventurers moved to disembark but were waved back to stay out of sight. Ennes spoke next. "Turning around is also not so much an option. We can't see numbers or emplacements but they also shouldn't know how many we have on board. We could approach normally until we are reasonably clear of barriers and hope to fend them off but that goes south if the horses panic and run."

          There is a long silence between them and eventually Eshin holds up his hand with his index finger raised. A solemn sigh and shake of the head Ennes closes his eyes and raises his hand with two fingers raised. Arnes looks at the party leader who in turns checks over his shoulder to scrutinize the others aboard the cart. Reluctantly he holds up a hand with one finger and Arnes follows suit. Ennes' breathing is nervous when he opens his eyes and his face drops to see the vote. "So we proceed."
          "I'm sure I don't count but I agree with the first assessment. This feels dangerous." Kire spoke around the telescope. On the one hand, excitement! Battle! Adventure! It had even been thrilling the first time. On the other hand there was an indisputably ominous feeling in his gut when he looked at that smoke.
          *Good thing you took a shit before we left.*

--

          The plan was in place: With adventurers ready on the defensive they would enter the pass at a steady pace to avoid crashing into any fences. Kire was partnered with another adventurer sent to his wagon to reinforce their defence, a spearman who could slay would-be boarders without leaving the roof and Kire was pretty sure the same one who initially protested having this spot taken. Two more men had spears on the lead wagon but all were positioned to protect from boarders and, if they came to a barricade, to disembark and fight their way through. Kire's job was to react accordingly to the enemy either defending his own wagon or running up to assist the first as necessary.

          It wasn't an ideal plan but they didn't have the time or resources for an alternative. With this in mind he opted not to tie himself to the railing this time so he could stay responsive as instructed, waiting with bated breath as the air closed in. Anyone who had a cloth to do so tied it over their faces. Eshin had protested that the horses would not be able to handle the smoke so everyone was waiting to see how that problem developed but to his surprise Kire found that the smoke did not burn his eyes and in fact had no more effect than mist. He exchanged confused looks with his fire team partner who pulls down their facial covering.
          "Must be magically wrought, otherwise their own troops would be affected." The spearman whispered.
          (Yeah I guess I keep forgetting that straight up magic casting is a regular thing in this world since I see it so rarely.)
          The atmosphere is tense, ears straining for any sound in the smog besides their own transports. Nerves wound so tight they could almost hear nothing over their own heartbeats and breathing there was the meaty slap of a rock fired from a sling striking one of the horses' flanks and no time to process it before both carts were sent bolting by simultaneous such assaults. The adventurer sharing the roost roost hooked his feet and managed to stay aboard but Kire was sent spinning off into the air to slam into the ground just able to make out a few arrows peppering the cart that was now rushing ahead. He pushes himself up to give chase and hears a crash-different than before and with a great deal of cries and screams. He advances and sees other bodies converging from the haze in the same direction of his ward but not having noticed him.

          He sprints and threads himself across the road swiping his sword across the back of the first raider he caught up to and dropping them, remembering the previous conversation about how they would take no hostages. With the risk to the caravan's lives Kire resolved to waste no time neutralizing threats either. Great strides caught him up to a second raider before they knew he was there and hacking at the back of their legs sent them tripping with a cry that had another turning to see what happened just to be greeted with a full-body tackle sending them to the ground to be aggressively trampled as he ran for the next.
          "Hey dog fuckers! I'm going to feed you your own assholes!" His yelling provoked an arrow shot into the ground where he'd been running by as he called out and he swerves in the direction its fletching pointed. Now he was pounding up the hill to the right of the road, shallow as it was and he made out the silhouettes of three bodies. The nearest saw him too and lifted their bow but he engages his speed ring and by the time they shoot the arrow his already great reflexes turned otherworldly bat it away with his sword. They shout for their fellows but it's cut off with their head and the others know only a blur through the fog that comes to batter them at odd angles.
          Back on the road the first cart had hit a different kind of obstacle than before and was overturned which sequentially trapped the second cart. There was no fence but rather a hard packed steep dirt speed bump eighteen inches high and while the horses managed to somehow miss or jump it the impact shattered the front wheels and threw the cart on collision with the back wheels. The two horses on the left side were pulled down to the ground, kicking to get free while the horses on the opposite side were sprung loose where the buckles in the breeching straps popped open rather than lift the horse's weight leaving the beasts of burden to bolt off into the haze.

          The carefully arranged defensive plan of the party inside was for naught as they were now tumbled in a hazardous spray of gear, battered and prone with the orchestrators of the attack closing in for the kill. As soon as the horses had spooked arrows had come through the canvas and one of them struck a member of the party who now lay dead at the bottom of the pile, the others desperately scrabbling to defend their position. Three assailants stood outside of the open back armed with crude polearms, bracing themselves to keep the adventurers trapped while their comrades cut through the cloth cover on the wagon's roof to breach an attack from the side. For one, his scimitar easily opened the canvas just to have a spear spring out and catch him in the neck but the others only hesitated for a second in continuing the work. On Arnes' wagon the guard on the roof had also been wounded in the initial arrow volley but managed to fend off a few aggressors before succumbing to a follow-up shot.

          Kire descended the hill seeing the second wagon start forward as the panicking horses tried to jam their way past the first. They stamped over the dirt blockage and slowly managed to heave the cart out of its tracks and over the burm, scraping its side along the broken wheels of Thrain's ride. The three men guarding the back of the wagon to contain the caravan guards looked indecisive about what to do but held their post and left it to their fellows to try and reign in Arnes' cart. This proved unsuccessful as when a handful of their number tried to give chase the screaming otherworlder destabilized their ranks, hitting and running to force them to defend themselves. Once there was enough panic and confusion among them with his speed and strength rings flickering on and off in bursts to create an off-setting tempo and power he slides to the ground in line with the three trying to hold their position at the overturned wagon and ignites the flamethrower ring to douse them all at once. Two of the men are fully ignited and Kire has to roll out of the way to avoid one running past him and the third panics to pat out where his clothing caught just to be overrun by the adventurers in the wagon who saw their window of opportunity.

          The adventurer's party charges out from the wagon with the senior giving an incredulous look at the burning men. His discipline overrides his surprise in and he starts calling formation orders after they cut down the others who had been bracing at the roof to flank them. The senior adventurer takes a tube off his belt and holds it aloft pulling a ring from the bottom which triggers a green flare crackling up and beyond the smoke like a firework. The adventurers were reasonably well equipped and organized but outnumbered three to one and when the next wave emerged from the obscurity of the smoke spell to assail the cart, crew and cargo it was with reckless abandon almost to the point of suicidal.

          During the brutal combat to follow another one of the adventurers are felled by a bident to the side and when the fighting is subsided the two who remain alongside Kire are visibly much worse for wear. A few of the wounded bandits are gathered and bound for later interrogation and the smoke starts to clear. Worrying still Kire clambers over the bump in the road to see if Arnes' cart had gotten free but in the slowly improving visibility he thinks he sees its outline. Thrain tries to get his attention between bouts of coughing which is all that could really be heard over the kicking and whinnying of the still stuck horses.
          Thrain was battered but had fastened himself down and been spared getting thrown from the cart entirely which almost certainly spared his life. Kire cuts the Dwarf free and tries to ease his landing to the ground but the Dwarf immediately crawls towards the horses to try and calm them. Seeing a figure at the cart ahead Kire takes on a dead sprint, sheathing his sword to make running easier and in the clearing smog he sees the cart had been locked up in vines magically summoned from the ground to wind the axle and wheels. The interloper catches the movement out the corner of their eye and tries to break away but Kire slams them between himself and the door at high speed and they slump to the ground.

          "Arnes, are you-!" Clearing the corner of the reinforced cart his words choke at the sight of the man sat still and low in his seat. Kire knew that stillness immediately. The hat had settled over his face and an arrow into his chest. "No, no nonono no...!" Kire whimpered and panicked, scrabbling up onto the drivers seat to put his hand on Arnes'chest to feel for breathing he knew wasn't there, tearing off his right glove and lifting the head gently to feel for a pulse he knew he wouldn't find. The veteran caravaneer's eyes had gone cloudy and Kire's vision did too as tears swelled. "Arn-A-Fuck...FUCK!"
          Footsteps approached and Kire leapt down with a feral snarl drawing his sword. It was one of the only two other surviving adventurers who jumped back with their hands up. They saw the ugly cry that was setting in on Kire and recognized the problem. Now it was the guildmate's turn to cuss.
          "Damnit...DAMN IT!" The adventurer started to turn back to the overturned wagon but the prone brigand who had been trying to get into the cart the cart groaned and stirred, rolling over to see themselves caught between two of the defenders they and theirs had collectively just tried to off.

          Kire was no good to the regrouping effort, ignoring the party leader's instructions to storm about the hills in a screaming tantrum looking for stragglers. The party leader, Dravein, and the other survivor, Nils, attended to Ennes.
          "I guess that will have to qualify as a lookout. We don't know if there are more around to try and finish the job but it could be half an hour still before backup arrives." Dravein grimaced as he spoke. The three bodies of their own fallen plus Arnes had been lined up along with the five live but wounded foes they had captured. The horses had been liberated from their sidelong hold one at a time and coaxed down enough to be tied to the broken wheels instead but now having finished that Thrain collapsed alongside where Eshin sat.
          Nils stood and walked over to kneel beside him. "Lift your shirt, I don't like how you're moving." Thrain complies, exposing a broad and terrible welted bruise across his abdomen where the belt had fought against his would-be flight. Being dangled from it for several minutes had chafed him to light bleeding on his left side.

          Between the others Eshin had been pinned under a crate that shifted in the attack and although his leg wasn't broken it was battered at least as bad as Thrain's midriff was. Ennes was in the worst shape of the three having taken a slash to the gut and nearly disembowelled. He was in critical condition, poorly wrapped with Dravein applying constant pressure to the blood-soaked patch job that had to pass for emergency care but the Dwarf was getting feverish.
          Eventually satisfied that the worst of the bleeding had been staunched Dravein lifts his hands, grabbing the hose for the water barrel and twisting a valve at its head to try and rinse off any of the blood that hadn't dried on too much yet. Kire returned, face taught and grim. Seeing Arnes laid out riles him up again and he seems to...contort. A fury boils over and he advances on the captives, grabbing one who'd tried to look brave and make eye contact. Kire starts beating them with several blows to the face, roaring as he thrashing them. Nils jumps to intervene but Dravein grabs his arm. "Not too quickly, this might help in getting the others to talk."

          Kire's punching bag sputtered blood and teeth and tried to beg him to stop but the outraged otherworlder switched to body shots. At Dravein's direction Nils finally steps in and hooks under Kire's arms, hoisting him back to remove him from the whimpering mess on the ground.
          Dravein steps in with his script. "Easy, easy! We still need them to tell us what they know. You can beat them to death when they refuse to talk. After all if they choose to be forthcoming the right thing to do would be to negotiate a modest, but safe cell."
          Kire's eyes were glowing with hatred as he stared down the other four tied, ignoring Dravein but eventually exerting control over himself and lessening his resistance to Nils' hold. Once he was calmed down enough to turn his palms up as a yield Nils releases him. "Right. Call me when they try to play hard to get." Kire strides back up one of the hills to keep watch from a higher vantage where he could be alone and Dravein turns slowly towards the other captives.
          "So. Who's feeling talkative?"

--

          The backup summoned by the flare had arrived sooner than expected with a contingent of reinforcements, medics, supplies, and even a proper knight. Divided into four wagons including a jail cart to keep the loads balanced and swift they set up an emergency care tent around Ennes and rushed to get him ready for immediate surgery, prepping an IV for medicine. Thrain and Eshin were triaged aside and given basic first aid with liniments for pain until the experts were done with Ennes to clear them properly. None of the captives had yet offered to talk and Dravein conferred with the knight leading the rescue. "The captives are shaken, we should capitalize on that while it's fresh. We start our interrogations here and now so they don't feel the safety of due process and get comfortable about making it through the night."
          The knight stroked his chin with the back of his hand and regarded their band of bound misfits while Dravein spoke. Despite talking in a low tone to not be overheard Dravein made a show of pointing up the hill to where the speck of Kire's hunched form could be seen more for the benefit of the captives than the knight. "Another one of ours survived and is sulking on the hill. He offered the others to repeat the welcome he gave the unconscious one and though I doubt he has the energy left it could benefit us for them to picture it." He whispered before turning to the offenders in waiting.

          Dravein's voice switched on loud and clear to address the bound men and women, pacing while he regards them all in turn. "Man, I've seen conviction in crooks. True believers. Thinks there's glory in dying for what their cause." Now that there was more adventurers and guards they had started rounding up all the bodies of the slain highwaymen and piling them up unceremoniously in a heap swarming with flies.

          "But it's not often they get to see what that looks like before it's their turn." Dravein walks over to the one Kire had assaulted who had passed out some time back, nudging them over with his foot to reveal they had pissed blood on themselves and one of the captives who had been following with their eyes turns away in disgust. "Or say you don't die and get your promised afterlife, instead rotting as an invalid in your own shit unable to even dress yourself for the rest of your earthly days." Seeing their chest rise and fall Dravein rolls the unconscious one back over in case they vomit.
          "We have four of you perky and only one needs to talk. Sir Engram here is an acclaimed artist with a halberd," Dravein nods over his shoulder to the knight, "And he's very disappointed to be called out from his spa day so this is what we're going to do. One of you will be taken into that tent over there." He gestures to the cage on wheels which now had a privacy curtain being drawn around it and produces a small one minute hourglass from a belt pouch which he held up. "You will be given five turns of a timer glass to tell us what we want to know. Just five. No more. If we aren't satisfied..." He broadly indicates the battered man on the ground with one hand and the corpse pile of their fallen fellows with the other. It was up to a dozen bodies by now. "And then one of you will be taken into that tent over there. You will be given five turns of a timer glass. No more."

          Kire sat cross-legged sulking on the hilltop, hunched over with hood drawn not caring to involve himself in whatever was going on at the moment. His energy had guttered out between the fight and the emotional outburst where for a moment this world felt a little too real. He'd tried instinctively wiping the tears and snot from his face but ended up smearing some of the blood from the bandit he pulverized on and overall made the mess worse.
          *Remember well, Kire. This world will contend.* System interjected into his storm of thoughts;
          'Is it my fault?/I was supposed to protect them/I failed/They knew the risk and made their choice/They voted to proceed/I should have kept up/You were thrown from the wagon it couldn't be helped/His family.../But is any of this even real?/His family!/I FAILED!' He tried to drop into his meditative state to get his mind back on track. Others were dead, wounded and critical. Now wasn't the time to be indulgent with self loathing or pity.

          Every time he tried to talk himself down about how he only barely knew Arnes for a couple of days and he didn't really have a stake in whatever happened in this world he just kept remembering the family Arnes solely supported and he couldn't shake that sense of remorse. Eventually trying to dismiss his outburst as largely being driven by years of pent up stress overdue for release he corrals himself back into immediate priorities. Making his way back down the hill a crew was working on the wheel repairs for the transport wagon and the reinforced cart had been pulled back and secured. He made for the ladder to the roof so he could collect his bag finally pulling out decent rags to wipe his face down with. Someone stood behind him and he took his time acknowledging them, getting his face dry if not clean. They cleared their throat getting impatient. "Are you the one called Kire?"
          Eventually he turns and has to lift his head to look the tall woman in the face. Long black hair was pulled back into a bun, her facial features narrow and slight with frosty blue eyes but her body strong. She had fine leather armour of impressive make with a quiver at her waist and a longbow peeking over her shoulder. "I am Alanna the Arrow-Hail, and I'm to collect you for debriefing."

--

          Kire sat dead-eyed from the self-inflicted burnout in yet another tent that had been quickly erected. Bigger, this one, than the emergency medical tent and the curtained prison cart that had concluded its business after disposing of only two of their captives.
          The medics were still going with the wounded and over time Dravein, Nils, Sir Engram, Alanna, and several others Kire did not know filtered in. Kire stood up off the ground to slump over a table that had been rolled in to the middle. Formalities began with the Knight who for all purposes held social rank over everyone else present, being the only one of formal military standing.
          "For those who don't know, I am Sir Engram of the Order of the Glistening Fields..."
          The Adventurer's Guild was a fascinating machine, actually. It served as an officially and publicly entrusted security and job agency that allowed freelance contractors to handle anything from odd jobs to deputy and militia roles. The Kingdom maintained a small standing force of men-at-arms and an elite knightly order but to keep peace across the fiefdoms it often came down to the chapters of the Adventurer's Guild to secure roads, fight crime, and support communities with the double advantage of providing a steady source of jobs and should the time ever come for war, a body of capable and experienced warriors. This over time expanded into offerings for virtually any kind of task as long as it was deemed appropriate and in line with the Guild's values and though the chapter houses were operated on assistance with regional tax breaks and provincial funding the adventurers themselves were often paid by the private entities who commissioned the jobs reducing the burden of the Crown to salary a constant armed force.

          Sir Engram therefore, as an actual knight, was the only one present who could have held the official capacity of representing the Crown. "Few of you already know what is about to be discussed here now and it is under penalty of treason that nothing discussed here leaves this tent. Understood?" He gives a heavy gaze to everyone assembled in turn, checking for any signs they may falter. "Dravein the Dire, as the Guild lead on this assignment I will have you break it to your guild mates in the way you think best parsed."
          (The Dire. That's quite a name, but I suppose he looks the bit.) Most people in Misterra did not cling to family names to pass on except in some regions and among nobility. Much more common and especially among the guilds was to be assigned a moniker typically based on some aspect of your character or career, sometimes accumulating multiple titles. Dravein had a strong squad leader vibe even from the get-go, a bald man around Kire's real age with dark patchwork armour of lamellar and the title made Kire curious about his history.

          "It is suspected we have a mole in the guild, possibly multiple, who have been working with these outlaws by feeding them information and sabotaging guild intel. The inactivity on these hills the past week was reliably verified but there was enough suspicion that a backup caravan for emergencies was prepared. The fact that an ambush happened to be set up yet again on exactly the same day as an outgoing shipment is confirmation enough to proceed with a thorough internal audit. Everyone in this tent or involved with the search and rescue is vetted enough to have been entrusted with the job even without being told the details. I thank you all for your readiness and integrity. The exceptions to this trust are you two." Dravein leaned in and pointed to Nils and Kire. "But especially you." He homed in on Kire with a deliberate thrust of his pointed finger. "Fact of the matter is I was sent to keep an eye out for traitors in case someone among the guards turned and I was ordered to give special care to the unnamed newcomer who appeared out of nowhere, allegedly completing jobs above his rank." Kire understood where this was coming from and he just nodded along but neither expressing or saying nothing. "That said, you both performed your duties with honour given the circumstances as did everyone else in this tent today."

          Sir Engram takes it from there. "The guild forwarded a letter to the capital three days ago making us aware of a significant uptick in organized crime activity the past couple weeks. Subtle at first but escalating. There has been more incidents in the last week than would normally be posted in a month. Something is happening and someone with access to the city is feeding it."

--

          Night fell and a camp was set up. The carts were patched enough, the corpse pile was torched and night shift was scheduled in pairs. 'It's hard to imagine they could still have the numbers to strike out at us but we can't rule anything out', Sir Engram had said. Dravein, Kire, and Nils had been exempted from overnight sentry with a dozen other adventurers available to keep watch but everyone except Dravein seemed to stay up quite late around the fires being unable to sleep after all the excitement. Nils was still pretty shaken, his signature weapon having been broken during the battle and temporarily replaced with the bident that had slain his party companion. Kire was still stone-faced and numb, giving up on the day and parking himself on his usual roost to sleep or not sleep as chance would allow.
          There was whispers around the fires and Kire thought he was catching some looks as he settled in but the void in the driver's seemed louder and more commanding to his attention than the two whispered words he'd picked up as he passed: "...the madman."