Reincarnation_RPG Page 6

  “These two next to me are Clemabauld and B’nalrd. Clem, B’narld, make our friend feel welcome while I go make sure everyone is ready to move out,” Mihel said, leaving the two other adventurers behind him.

  They were both shorter than Mihel, but Clemabauld was taller than B’nalrd and wore the meanest expression on his face.

  “Listen here. Both B’narld and I are rank D. I don’t know what kind of propaganda you pulled to make everyone here think you took down a Dred Bear alone, but unlike Mihel, I know it’s a crock of horse shite. I’ve seen a Dred Bear break through an army without so much as flinching, and Mihel may think those tiny Smegs of his Kingdom have any kind of similarity, but he is dead wrong. You keep to the rear and keep out of our way, or you’ll see what the class difference is between a rank E and a rank D.”

  John’s eyes narrowed at Clem and B’narld.

  “I think I would like to see that more than anything in the world, right now.”

  “Let’s stop off at the guild and get a formal match going. I’d hate to kill you accidently and not have it affect my rank,” Clem said.

  “Good men, would you kindly stop harassing my help. I have a deal made with Viper, and John is my adventurer. You three can have your petty match after we reach our destination; until then, we will be relying on you to get us there intact. It’s not like we can show up to a new Kingdom with only one adventurer,” Saarka said, giving John a stern look.

  “Listen to your master, John; for a woman, she has some common sense,” B’narld said as he and Clem left to join Mihel with preparations.

  “What did he mean affect his rank?” John asked Saarka.

  “A guild duel can be done by two members of different skill. It’s used to settle arguments and gives the winner a boost in rank, depending upon the difference in rank.”

  “And it’s legal to kill in these matches?”

  “It’s not encouraged, but if the referee doesn’t get to the injured in time, some people die. Like the idiot said, ‘It’s common sense.’”

  John chuckled and let his anger cool until they got to their final stop. It took a little longer than he expected, but the caravan started to head out, and John and Saarka joined it.

  “How long until we get to Gleydion?” John asked while they rode, trying to make gentle conversation.

  “We’ll be stopping at a city or two on the way until we eventually reach Fort Light in the Qobraiden Kingdom. That’s where we’ll separate from the caravan. From there, we’ll be able to travel to the other end of the Kingdom, where we’ll be able to enter Gleydion via a heavily traveled and enforced road. I talked with Vihpier about our excursion, and he gave me the main landmarks to worry about.”

  “Does no one have a map?”

  “Vihpier has one he constantly updates, but I doubt we’ll have time to make a copy.”

  “We’ll have to think of something later; we’re going to need that map. How much time will it take to reach Gleydion?”

  “If we’re lucky and there are no major problems, it will take about a month and a half to get there.”

  John sighed. This was going to be a long trip, and home wasn’t even waiting for him at the end of it. Just the hope that there will be a way to get home.

  Chapter 4

  Fort Trellis was still busy rebuilding a week later. Homes and business needed to be repaired, while the normal daily chores still needed to be done. It would take a while, but Fort Trellis would be rebuilt. The Dred Bear attack had been the celebration of the town after it had been killed and would be turned into a child’s story. There would be parts changed to make it more interesting. A hero, instead of an adventurer, more destruction and even feats of magic. The stone John had reinforced would later become the town's treasure, as it could not be destroyed and would even be turned into a weapon.

  Reka had gotten up early that morning to start cleaning. The bar had been packed with people celebrating and telling stories with each other the night prior. She set to picking up chairs and getting the dirty dishes gathered, keeping the bar closed until lunch. There wouldn’t be anyone in today before then because of how much work would need to be done. It did her heart good to see the town come together and pitch in to help rebuild their little squalor homes. The dying town felt more like a community than it had in a long time.

  Except two people were waiting by the front door for her when she came back from dumping one load of dishes into the sink.

  I thought, for sure, I had locked that door. She thought as she dried her hands to deal with the two strangers. They were a good deal taller than her, and she couldn’t make out their faces. One had a cloak on with the hood pulled up, while the other was encased in the strangest armor she had ever seen. It looked like it was made of red and brown scales.

  “Sorry lads, we’re closed until noon. Lots of excitement in town this last week.”

  “We didn’t come for a drink of your measly stock,” the man in the hood hissed. “There was an adventurer in town recently, came by the southern roads and killed a Dred Bear, or so we hear. He registered for the adventurer’s guild if I understand correctly.”

  “Ay, he did, but can this not wait until I am open?”

  The hooded man held out his hand, and Reka froze as she was lifted off her feet and being dragged closer to him. She struggled for breath, but when she got close enough, she could see his face. He was old, with wild red hair on the sides, a giant bald patch on his head, and his eyes were different colors of green and blue.

  “This matter is important to us, and you will do well to remember that,” he said, dropping her to the ground.

  Reka nodded her head.

  “Good, now fetch us the adventurer’s guild scroll.”

  Reka quickly got up and ran to where she had hidden his scroll. Her hands trembled as she held out the scroll for the hooded man. He took it, unfurling the scroll, and glanced over the stats before throwing it to the floor and stomping his feet on it.

  “No! This isn’t right. These are the stats of a low-class noob. Where the hell is the man who killed the Dred Bear?”

  “I’m really, terribly sorry sir, but that is his scroll.”

  The hooded man raised his hand again, ready to strangle Reka, and she backed into the corner.

  “Please no, that is his scroll. He did two of them, but one of them was bad. I’ve never seen one go bad before, but this one was old. It went bad, you see, because it broke in half and released a black smoke and had incredible stats on it. I still have it in the back. I was repairing it to send to the adventurer’s guild; if you please, I can fetch it for you.”

  “Go,” the hooded man said.

  Reka came back with the charred scroll and placed it on the table for the men before backing up as far as she could. The hooded man stepped closer to the charred scroll and opened it carefully. “Perfect. Mike, come see this.”

  The man in the scale armor lumbered over to the table and looked over the scroll. He gave it careful thought before muttering out loud.

  “John, huh. What game have you been playing?”

  Part 3

  John didn’t notice the monster as it came scuttling out through the forest. The silence was punctuated only by the horse’s hooves crunching on the dry dirt and wagon wheels squeaking as they turned, until one of the horses in the caravan squealed in pain as its head was ripped from its torso by a red and brown blur that darted back into the trees, disappearing with a decapitated head as its prize. John looked ahead and saw six more of the things running toward the caravan. He jumped down from his seat on the wagon, drew his sword and used his analyze skill on the monsters.

  Name: Skarat

  Level: 12

  Magic: None

  Class: Insect

  Skarats are similar to centipedes, averaging thirty feet in length and about the size of a Labrador retriever. They are quick and use their speed to encircle their prey like a snake before constricting and using their powerful mandibles to rip off whiche
ver limb looks the tastiest.

  Two of the skarats had broken off from the pack and were running toward him. One surged straight at John and was cut in half for its effort. The second darted past him and lunged for his horse. John turned and tried to grab the skarat, but missed, losing his balance on viscera and gore causing him to fall in the dirt. Clyde reared up on his back hooves and smashed downward, crushing the exoskeleton. The horse kept his weight on the skarat, pinning it to the ground. John picked himself up, calmly walked over to the still twitching skarat, and plunged his sword into its head.

  “Enjoy the taste of dirt?” Saarka asked sarcastically, from her perch on the wagon. She was smirking after watching him take a tumble.

  “The ground was slippery.”

  “I have no doubt. We’re safe here. Hurry up and go take care of the rest of them.”

  John looked ahead confused. He expected to see four dead skarats next to B’narld and Clemabauld. Instead what he saw made him sigh.

  B’narld and Clemabauld were clashing swords with two of the skarats. The two rank D adventurers stood back to back swiping at them, but their powerful mandibles were parrying the sword strikes and the two adventurers were unaware of the long bodies slowly encircling them into an ever-tightening circle. John saw Mihel further ahead, holding two of them back using a large hammer to bat them away and his bare fist to punch them in the mouths when they got too close.

  “Yeah, I got it,” he said.

  John ran forward, but he didn’t stop at B’narld and Clem. He swiped at one of the skarats as he passed and his blade cut through it like hot butter. Now it would be the two adventurers against one skarat.

  If they can’t handle one of those things between the two of them then I don’t feel bad if they die.

  He used his momentum to ram his sword into one of the skarats that was snipping at Mihel. He pierced through the thing’s thick hide and stabbed it into the ground. It kept wiggling and trying to snap at his feet. Raising one leg, John smashed it like the bug it was, then turned to see Mihel swinging his heavy hammer down on the creature and watched it rebound against the its thick exoskeleton, but not without leaving a patchwork of cracks across it.

  Crap these things must be stronger than I thought. Maybe they won’t notice. John thought, as he brushed bug guts off of his boots into the mud.

  “Mihel, do you need help?”

  Mihel swung his hammer down again in the same place he had before causing the fracture in the skarat’s armor. He swung his hammer again and met the skarat’s meaty middle, causing it to hiss in pain before dying.

  “They’re tough buggers, but if you know a trick or two you can teach ‘em their place on the food chain.”

  Mihel and John looked over to see B’narld and Clem still fighting the skarat. John sighed and was going to help when Mihel put up an arm holding him back.

  “You both keep chopping at the armor. Try using your heads for once,” Mihel yelled.

  “Hey old man, we don’t have the strength to crush armor like you, so help or shut up,” Clem said.

  “I am helping you two brats, if I have to do any more than this I might as well be a wet nurse. Look at the thing’s armor, they’re scales, with one lining up over the other.”

  “So what?” B’narld said, avoiding a strike and tripping over the other end of the skarat. Clem parried the skarat’s mandibles away from B’narld’s exposed body.

  “How do you think John killed them so quickly? You must pierce from under the scale and up. That’s the weak point. The armor is layered, but if you pry it up you can pierce through them.”

  John looked over to the skarats that he had killed and winced when he noticed that the scale armor had been cut neatly in two.

  B’narld had risen back to his feet. He crouched low and stabbed at the skarat as it reared its head back for another strike. His sword pierced and lifted up one of the scales. Clem saw the chance and pierced at the exposed flesh beneath. The skarat hissed and lunged at the two adventurers but they held the thing firm refusing to let go, pushing it to the ground where they pinned it and Mihel came over and crushed its head with his hammer.

  “There’s hope for you yet.”

  “If we had known there was a trick to these things we would have been able to kill them all instead of keeping it a secret to look like some kind of hero,” Clem said, glaring at John.

  “Whatever,” John said, pushing past the two adventurers and grabbing the corpse of the skarats he killed and dragging them back to his wagon.

  “What in the three hells are you doing?” B’narld asked.

  “Taking my kills,” John said, trying to hold his nose away from the smell of the dead skarats.

  “The skarat scales can be turned into armor or used as building materials. They’ll fetch a good price when we reach Fort Light,” Mihel said, matter-of-factly.

  “Really? Well we have six of them here and four adventurers. How are we going to split them?” Clem asked.

  “Easy, three for me and you can each take the ones you killed,” John said, as he was already grabbing the second body of the skarat he had pierced. He carried the body, trying to hide the crushed skull and pierced armor. It made walking difficult. The things were not light, and he had put most of his stats into speed. He ended up dragging half of the body over to his wagon.

  “Hey, we’re all in this together, we’re all adventurers making our way, it’s not fair that we only get three,” Clem said.

  “You get two, Saarka’s horse killed the first one but, if you want to ask the horse, feel free,” John said.

  Clem looked like he was going start arguing, but B’narld spoke up.

  “Clem let it go. He killed them and the guild is going to side with him.” B’narld said. He was looking over to Mihel, who nodded his approval and walked over to his own kill.

  “Of course, I doubt the guild will sell to a third rate adventurer once his character has been called into question by two higher ranking members,” B’narld said, when Mihel was out of earshot.

  “Do whatever makes you happy,” John said, piling the bodies next to the cart.

  “What do you plan to do with those smelly awful things?” Saarka asked.

  “I’ll walk away tonight while everyone is setting up camp and burn them.”

  “Taking them with you on your nightly walk, huh? What do you do out in the middle of the forest all alone?”

  “Recuperate,” John said.

  “You should hear what B’narld and Clem think that means when you’re away some time. I don’t understand why you don’t put them in their place. If you killed them I don’t think anyone would mind too terribly much.”

  “We reach Fort Light in a few weeks and I’ll never see them again. They can have their rank, and live their short lives in this place, I don’t plan on staying.”

  “Well, we’re stuck here for the rest of the day so you might as well get those smelly things away from camp now before the stench brings more trouble.”

  “We’re stopping, why?” John asked.

  “One of those things killed a horse and ran off. We only have a few hours of daylight left and we need to get shifts ready in case the thing comes back. We also have to figure out what to do about the wagon that’s horseless now. I’ll offer to help once you’re gone to get us moving a little faster.”

  “Meaning you plan to purchase their stock for cheap since they’re dead in the water?”

  “I don’t know where you see water, but yes. Now hurry and bury the corpses, you’ll probably be put on watch tonight.”

  John hefted the skarat pieces and walked them into the woods. It took two trips and an hour’s worth of time to get them far enough away from the camp where no one would see him. The woods were thick and easy to get lost in. No one followed him in the weeks he had been making nightly excursions. His heads-up display included a waypoint that he had set to Saarka so he would never get lost and his radar would let him know if there was something dangerous
coming. However, it only worked on things that were actively looking for him. A skarat after a horse apparently didn’t warrant a warning.

  John’s magic allowed him to freely wield the elements. Usually it was just enough to hurl fire at things, but he was able to do more if he used a little bit of imagination. He took out his sword and marked a giant square in the grass, large enough to be a grave for the skarats. Once he was able to visualize the area he poured his mana into the vision he had in his mind. The ground moved aside allowing John to push the skarats into the pit. The ground closed, looking undisturbed.

  Minus 5500 appeared under his mana bar, letting him know the cost of his magic along with a notification in John’s vision.

  New Magic acquired: “Grave Digger”

  Effects: A hole rips itself inside of a patch of earth and closes when something falls into it. Can be used as a trap or used to clean out refuge.

  John checked and ensured there was no one around him. The main reason he came so far away from the camp was for a shower. He quickly disrobed and placed his leather armor suit and underclothing on a low hanging branch. He summoned water from the air and held it in place with one hand before summoning a fireball to hold itself underneath it. The fireball John summoned burned a beautiful shade of blue. The water started to steam almost immediately and John let the fireball die. He allowed the water to start to dribble out of his control and washed himself with some soap Saarka had purchased for him. When he was done a notification came up of minus 10,000 mana and he put the soap back into his inventory before getting dressed. The cost of digging a grave and his shower was almost his entire supply. His spells didn’t cost much to fire, or shoot off at an enemy, but to hold onto the magic for minutes caused the cost to go up exponentially.

  He suddenly felt very tired. The simplest pleasures he enjoyed of his previous life cost so much here. There was so little in this world that made it worth living. He had magic that he had to hide, there were no toiletries, or toilets for that matter. Some people might have thought of it like a vacation; a perverse, people are trying to kill you vacation from technology, but John couldn’t stand it. He had never been camping in his life and now he had been taken from everything he knew. This world was not his and every day it grated on him.