Chương 16: The Harsh Reality of Adventuring

Ch. 16 - The Harsh Reality of Adventuring vengeance is a cycle that never ends. - from the writings of Steadholder Eckhart The two orcs sprinted towards Wyatt and the three Adventurers, their footsteps pounding on the ground, kicking up clods of dirt and grass. The cloak that one of them was wearing was flung back, revealing a bare chest upon which a necklace made of bones rattled and bounced, clattering about in a discordant rhythm that added to the rising panic.

Raek clashed his pommel of his sword against his shield, the loud sound snapping everyone out of being frozen. He pointed his sword at the Orc in armour, looking back at his team and Wyatt. His words were sharp, clipped.

"I'll engage the one with a sword, hold it back! Losmer, take out the one with the cloak! Marie, support! Wyatt, keep the orcs from closing in on the others!" Losmer was already sprinting off to the side to gain some space, an arrow nocked.

"Don't get between me and it, Raek!"

"Got it! We've got this, team! They are just overgrown goblins!" Raek sprinted forward to meet the charge, yelling his own battlecry. It was thinner, reedier, than the deep bellow from the Orcs, but he didn't falter. He veered slightly to one side of the Orcs, in the opposite direction that Losmer had run. Then Raek clashed his pommel to his shield again, yelling.

"Over here you ugly brute! [Goading Taunt]!" The Orc with the great-sword peeled off to meet Raek, already setting his weapon over his shoulder, ready to swing. Wyatt didn't have time to watch their clash though; he was frantically looking between Marie, Losmer, and the second approaching Orc. Even though the Adventurers had reacted with commendable speed, moving into their roles with barely any hesitation, Wyatt was initially overwhelmed by all that was happening.

This wasn't a single target he had to focus on, like the Galvadeer. It wasn't even like the fight with the Goblins; that had been a one-sided ambush. Despite this, the main distraction was coming from the waves of emotion he was sensing from the two Orcs. Wyatt gripped his spear, focusing, forcing his breathing to even out. He felt [Lesser Fortitude] kick in, calming him even further. The raging emotions from the two Orcs were still present — grief and anger — but it was easier to push past them.

Wyatt could think dispassionately now; realising that there was a connection to the Goblins they had slain the day before, and the two Orcs attacking them. He also knew that no amount of understanding would avoid this fight. Wyatt moved into position in front of Marie, lowering his stance and getting ready. He spoke to Kit, not taking his eyes off of the charging foe.

"Kit, stay behind me. Keep yourself safe." This wasn't like the herd of Galvadeer; he didn't think Kit could hide them from this. The little fox growled her assent, darting back to stand next to Marie. Marie called out to Raek as she pointed her staff at the Orc wearing the cloak and bone fetishes.

"Don't do anything stupid, Raek! We'll deal with this one, then come help you. Losmer! Kill it while I pin it down! [Strangling Vines]!" Vines erupted out of the ground at the Orc's feet, twisting swiftly and twining around its legs, arresting its steps. The Orc stumbled, almost going down, but caught itself by planting the end of the staff it was carrying in the earth. It lifted one leg, straining, and some of the vines snapped.

Beads of sweat stood out on Marie's forehead as she focused on her spell, the vines thickening and creeping higher up the Orc's torso. Marie screamed.

"Now, Losmer!" Losmer was kneeling some distance away, halfway up a nearby hill to get some height. He was aiming, bowstring fully pulled back.

"Got it. [Unerring Shot]!" The arrow flew through the air, curving in a graceful arc, on target with the Orc's head. A perfect recreation of what Wyatt had seen the day before, an unnaturally accurate shot, guided by Losmer's skill. Just before the arrow struck, the trapped Orc grinned savagely, its teeth bared. Around its neck, one of the bone fetishes it wore flashed an unearthly green, before crumbling into broken fragments.

Losmer's arrow shattered in the air as though it had hit a solid barrier, falling down into pieces a few feet away from the orc. Losmer lowered his bow, gaping.

"What the —" Marie shrieked at the [Archer], her voice filled with shock and horror.

"Losmer, look out! That Orc is a [Shaman]!" Wyatt didn't know what that meant exactly, but he was already running at the Orc, the panic in Marie's voice driving him forwards. Any questions of ethics or morality would have to wait. For he had felt a new surge of emotion from the Orc that was still stationary, covered in Marie's vines. Dark satisfaction. Everything moved as if in slow motion.

Wyatt was running as fast as he could, spear ready to strike, but he was still dozens of feet away as the Orc raised its staff. Green light swirled around its tip, coalescing as the [Shaman] pointed at Losmer. It spoke, its voice deep and guttural, the malice in its tone unmistakable. It didn't shout, didn't yell. Just spoke, relish in its every syllable.

"[The Earth Grips]. [Rock Spire]." The shock of hearing a 'monster' speak was given no time to register on Wyatt or the others. Losmer had time to only yell out once as his feet sunk a few inches into the soil, clods of earth rising to his ankles to hold him in place. Pinned and unable to move, Losmer could do nothing as a pointed spire made of grey stone erupted out of the grass in front of him, angled and on target.

It pierced his stomach without slowing, growing and continuing up through his chest, before exiting in a bloody spray on his upper back. The [Archer] spasmed, clutching futilely at the still growing stone edifice that had skewered him. He coughed, more blood spewing from his mouth, then went still.

"Losmer! No!" Marie cried out in horror as they watched the [Archer] die. She spun to the Orc [Shaman], glaring in hatred as tears fell from her eyes. Her voice cracked, forced out through a throat and jaws clenched tight out of rage.

"[Summon Flame]! [Summon Flame]! [Summon Flame]! [Summon Fla —" Marie started to cough, choking, and fell to her knees. Her face was white, blood trickling from her nose as she pushed herself beyond her limits. She kept her hate-filled eyes fixed on the Orc though, as her three successful spells flew through the air. The Orc [Shaman] let out a laugh full of disdain. He swung his staff casually at his legs, and the vines that Marie had conjured earlier disintegrated. The Orc then took two steps to one side, mockingly letting Marie's flames soar harmlessly by. Marie was trembling as she lifted her staff, fuelled by will and hate. She pointed it at the [Shaman], croaked out the start of a spell, but then fell onto her side. She twitched, her arms and legs spasming. Marie was gasping as she fumbled uncoordinatedly at her belt, her bag of holding. She retrieved a potion and brought it to her lips with shaking hands. Wyatt reached the [Shaman], and immediately thrust his spear at its chest. It was the fastest strike he had ever done, and he put so much strength into it that he felt his muscles screaming. His teeth were gritted, and he was trying to keep the image of Losmer's impaled dead body out of his head. The horror of his sudden death. They'd been talking about leaving the dungeon only a few minutes ago. Wyatt's eyes widened as the Orc casually swung its staff across its body, knocking the strike wide. It grinned down at him, enjoying the shock on his face. Wyatt was now over-extended, and was quickly punished for it. The Orc lashed out in a kick, connected with Wyatt's gut, and knocking him down onto his back. Magic user or not, the Orc followed this up with a savage blow down at Wyatt's face with the butt end of its staff. Wyatt rolled desperately, scooping up his spear, and awkwardly jabbed out with only one hand on his weapon. It was an ungraceful strike, and something that the Orc hadn't expected. The blade of the spear cut a gash across its chest. The [Shaman] didn't seem bothered by the wound. He laughed again, dismissively, and raised a clawed hand." Look how you struggle. Did my kin do as much when you slaughtered them? [Curse of Weakness]." Wyatt's limbs immediately lost strength, and he almost dropped his weapon. His head swam, and his every move felt like he was deep in water. Wyatt's body was heavy, uncoordinated. He felt helpless, like there was nothing more he could do, a condition imposed by the Orc's spell. The Orc [Shaman] swung its staff down like a club, aiming for Wyatt's head. It had already dismissed him as done for, and was looking by him towards where Marie was regaining her feet. It didn't see Kit as she raced low to the ground, keeping Wyatt between them. The little fox leapt over Wyatt's shoulder, shadow blooming around her tail, tendrils of darkness swirling forward around the Shaman's face. The Orc bellowed, flailing at the dark nothingness. Although blinded, the end of its staff caught Kit a glancing blow, dashing her to the ground where she landed with a yelp. Seeing his chance, Wyatt gathered his will and shook off enough of the Orc's spell for him to use a skill." [Desperate Strike]!" Wyatt snarled as he thrust his spear out with the speed and precision given to him by his sole combat skill. The Orc had managed to dispel Kit's darkness, and its eyes widened in shock as it saw Wyatt's spear coming for it. The [Shaman] tried to wrench itself out of the way, but was only partly successful. The spear, aimed at the Orc's throat, punched through the underside of its jaw instead. It continued upwards, piercing the side of its mouth, and exiting out one cheek in a spray of blood and broken teeth. The Orc howled as it tore itself free of Wyatt's spear, the spell it had cast on him fading as it lost concentration. It fumbled at its bone amulets as it stumbled away, one of them flashing green once more. The magic fouled Wyatt's follow-up stab, the spearpoint striking something invisible in the air instead of finding flesh. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. Wyatt followed its retreat closely, not giving it space to cast another spell. He had zero confidence in his ability to evade the combination that had killed Losmer. So he jabbed and thrust, moving through the forms his Grandmother had drilled into him, focusing on his footwork. No one particular strike was dangerous in of itself, the Orc being able to parry them without too much effort, but they kept the [Shaman] off balance, constantly backing up. This gave Marie time to make her move. The [Hedge Mage] had wiped her nose after her nosebleed with the back of her hand, and her face was now smeared crimson. She had circled wide, and was now coming at the Orc from behind as it was kept busy by Wyatt's attacks. Wyatt yelled out to distract it further, slashing wide with the tip of his spear to make the Orc stumbled back an extra step. It was a risky move, leaving him open again, but it gave Marie her chance. Marie's teeth were bared as she darted forwards, jabbing the tip of her staff against the shoulder of the Orc [Shaman]." [Summon Flame]! Burn, damn you!" Flame started to lick up along the skin of the Orc. It bellowed out its anger, spinning and catching Marie with a backhanded blow. The [Hedge Mage] partially blocked it, but she was still sent flying through the air. The Orc clawed at its arm, trying to remove the flame, but it stuck fast. It muttered some guttural words with a broken cadence — its pierced and bleeding jaw hindering speech — and its palm glowed. Whatever the Orc was doing didn't put the flames out, but they weren't spreading as quickly as they had with the Goblin. The fire remained though, still burning and smouldering, and the air was soon filled with the sickly scent of charred flesh. Wyatt didn't take it on faith that Marie's spell alone would be enough to finish it off. He set himself and thrust again, the spearpoint finding an opening this time, sinking deep into the distracted Orc's chest. It roared, this time with a rattling gurgle, and lashed out with its staff. Wyatt dodged to one side, focusing on his target. He had the rhythm now; the Orc was much quicker than it looked, but it didn't go for any sophisticated moves, instead relying upon its natural speed and strength. He struck again and again, the blade of his spear painted crimson, as he punctured the Orc's chest a dozen times over. It seemed to take the Orc a long time to fall. Wyatt didn't realise he had been yelling the entire time until the [Shaman] had collapsed at his feet, its chest a bloody ruin of puncture wounds. He almost fell over as the adrenaline left him, catching himself on his spear, panting heavily. Out of breath, his throat feeling raw, Wyatt leant on his weapon, feeling dizzy. He quickly checked on Kit; she was on her feet, but looking groggy. There was no time to rest though, no time to recover. Marie had pulled out another potion from her belt and had flung it in Wyatt's direction, calling over her shoulder at him as she lurched into a stumbling run. Her voice was tight with suppressed emotion, sounding grim." Potion of Stamina! Drink it; we have to help Raek!" Wyatt caught the potion against his chest, his thoughts feeling sluggish. He looked in the direction that Marie had run, his eyes widening at what he saw. It seemed impossible, but they had been fighting for only a few minutes. A few minutes combat had seen Losmer dead, and Wyatt and Marie almost as well. And that had been three on one. Facing the Orc wielding the great-sword alone, Raek was still standing, but his movements looked increasingly desperate. The armour that he wore was battered and dented, the clothes underneath blooming red in places. Raek's shield was half-crumpled, the top part of its curve shorn off entirely, and the [Swordsman] was using it only as a last resort; not trusting it to hold up to anything other than a glancing blow. There were tears tracking down his face, grief at the death of his friend, but he couldn't spare even a single moment to stop and mourn. Everything spoke to just how one-sided the fight between Raek and the armoured Orc had been. The Orc looked furious as it swung its huge blade in intricate arcs, making it roar through the air like it was half the size and weight it actually was. The Orc was snarling curses at the [Swordsman], its rage taking over completely at the death of the [Shaman]. Wyatt pulled the cork on the potion Marie had given him, and drank it down hurriedly, not even noticing the taste. The effect hit him immediately, fire and energy coursing through his limbs like nothing he had ever felt before. His head cleared, and Wyatt immediately started sprinting after Marie. The mage was some distance in front of him, having almost reached Raek. She called out to the [Swordsman]." On your left, Raek! [Summon Flame]! [St—strangling Vines]!" Even from behind her, Wyatt could hear the strain in Marie's voice. She had pushed herself too hard, and she stuttered on the last spell she cast, her footsteps becoming uneven. Marie had told him that it was easier to cast spells in the dungeon, but she hadn't mentioned what her limit was. So many spells in such quick succession had taken their toll. Even so, Marie's magic worked. It was something they must have practiced, as Raek had instantly darted to the right when the [Hedge Mage] had called out, the orb of flame sailing by him on course for the Orc. It blocked the magic with its sword, angling its weapon so that the flame spluttered harmlessly on the flat of the blade. This wasn't Marie's goal though, only the distraction. Just like it had with the [Shaman], vines shot out of the ground, tangling and twisting around the armoured Orc. Marie screamed at Raek." Finish it! It won't hold it long!" The [Swordsman] nodded resolutely, snarling in a manner that matched the Orc." Thanks, Marie! That's the opening I needed —" As he spoke, Raek had lunged forward in a picture-perfect thrust, sword and arm at full extension, shield held back to provide protection for his body. He was aiming for a gap in the armour the Orc wore, just under the armpit. It was wide open, great-sword still angled across its body from blocking the flame spell. Wyatt wanted to scream as he sprinted forward, but he couldn't afford to waste the breath. Instead he willed himself to more speed, desperate to arrive in time, because he could see something the others couldn't. They were too close, too caught up in the emotion of losing Losmer. They didn't see the Orc tense, lowering itself slightly as it adjusted its stance. Couldn't see the vines tear and break around its legs as it moved, not even noticing the impediment. With terrible speed, the Orc pivoted, spinning its great-sword up and then down in a crescent slash. It began and finished the move while Raek was still in mid lunge. Wyatt watched in horror as the huge blade cut down through Raek's shoulder, angling down through his torso - splitting the shield like it wasn't even there — before exiting around his hip. The spray of blood hit Marie in the face as she screamed in denial, unable to do anything as Raek crumpled to the ground." Marie! Get back!" Wyatt howled as he closed the remaining distance. The [Hedge Mage] was staring down in shock at Raek, staff dropping from nerveless fingers. She slowly looked up at Wyatt, her eyes lost. The armoured Orc kicked its way out of the remaining vines. It looked straight at Wyatt, malicious satisfaction in its eyes. Then it reached out with one hand, grabbing Marie by the throat, lifting her off the ground. It held her as she kicked and struggled, clawing at the gauntleted fist that held her neck. The Orc smiled at Wyatt … and then jerked the arm holding Marie sharply to one side, snapping her neck with dismissive ease. It dropped her in an untidy heap next to Raek. Everything seemed to shift for Wyatt, becoming out of sync. He was still running, still holding his spear. He was screaming something, because he could feel his mouth move. At the same time though, it was like he was removed from it all, watching himself from over his shoulder. Like a bad dream that he was struggling to wake from. He had only just met the three Adventurers, had only just started to get to know them. They had reached out, helped Wyatt when they hadn't needed to. They'd shared their food, joked with him, offered advice. Listened to his. Marie had flirted with him. Now they were all dead. The world crashed back into place for Wyatt, harsh reality shaping him with an inexorable cruelty. He stopped yelling, going silent with an abrupt suddenness that made the armoured Orc hesitate. It had been grinning widely, pulling its great-sword back for another swing, intending to split Wyatt in two as he recklessly ran in. But now Wyatt slowed his pace, still moving fast, but no longer running. He set himself, let go of everything, and focused on what was in front of him. The Orc. Wyatt was coldly dispassionate as he stepped to one side as the great-sword came down. He didn't even bother with parrying the blade, just letting it sail past him. Wyatt advanced, moving inside of the large weapon's reach, holding his spear with a widely spaced grip so as to have more control in tight quarters. His Grandmother had used to drill him on various weapons and their weaknesses. It had seemed like a fun diversion at the time, a way to forget about the harshness of trying to survive on an Earth that was broken. It all came back to him now. The Orc roared, swinging its blade at Wyatt, but he was too close for it to get any power behind it. Even though he had a spear, Wyatt's weapon was actually shorter than the massive sword that the Orc was wielding. He turned, stepping and moving along with the Orcs awkward swing, thrusting the point of his spear into the crook of the monster's arm. The Orc grunted in pain as the spear dug into its arm. This turned into a howl when Wyatt twisted his weapon, tearing it out of the Orc's inner elbow, creating a messy and gaping wound. The monster dropped its sword from fingers that no longer worked quite right. The Orc then lunged at Wyatt, its tusked mouth open, good arm grasping — intending to grab and rend Wyatt in any way it could. Wyatt was already stepping backwards and out of reach, having moved even before he'd finished tearing his spear loose. He adjusted his grip on the spear, going for more reach, and then thrust. Wyatt aimed downwards this time, the blade of his spear entering the Orc's knee as it took the first step towards him. He rotated the spear again, twisting it savagely before yanking it out; this time part of the Orc's patella came out of the wound, the piece of bone stuck fast on the end of Wyatt's spear. The Orc howled again in sheer agony, crashing down to the ground as it clutched at its injured arm and ruined knee. It scrabbled backwards, trying to choke out words, holding its good arm out towards Wyatt. Wyatt struck the arm out of his way, and then thrust down once more, this time aiming straight for the monster's throat. He tore the Orc's neck open, leaning on the weapon with all his weight, letting himself properly feel the anger and loss for the first time. Wyatt choked back a sob as he pinned the Orc to the ground, blood gushing out horrifically. He sawed the blade of his spear back and forth, deepening and widening the wound, not stopping even when the weakened movements of the Orc ceased. Just pushing and sawing, harder and harder, as though the act would stop him from having to face what had happened to his friends. Wyatt only stopped when he heard a gurgling cry, an attempt to speak. He whipped his head around, eyes wide. Wyatt shied away from Marie's body, her head tilted at an unnatural angle. But there, laying near her, was Raek. And he was moving. Without conscious thought, Wyatt left the side of the dead Orc, closing the distance, and dropping to his knees next to the [Swordsman]. Even with seeing him move, Wyatt couldn't believe that Raek was still alive. The slash the Orc had given him ran deep, a gruesome wound that had opened him up completely. But then he saw a potential answer; a red potion in Raek's slack grasp, opened and half empty. Some of the liquid beading around his lips. As Wyatt watched, some of the colour returned to the [Swordsman's] face, the edges of the wound moving as if it was trying to knit." Raek? Raek!" Wyatt didn't know what to do, or if he even could do anything. Raek coughed, then groaned. The colour fading from his face again. So much of his blood was staining the grass that Wyatt couldn't believe he was still alive, even with a potion. Raek's eyes rolled, his head flopping. He looked at Marie's body for a second, then closed his eyes tight, fresh tears appearing in his eyes. Raek wheezed." Y—you got — it. I sa—saw you." Wyatt shook his head, pleading." Don't waste your breath. We all got them. Tell me what to do, how to help you!" Raek took a deep and shuddering breath. His hand twitched, fingers brushing the half-drunk potion." Po—tion. Dri—ink. Pour i—it on wo-ound." Wyatt quickly grabbed the potion, tilting it and pouring some more into Raek's mouth. The [Swordsman] swallowed weakly, as Wyatt next poured it directly onto the gaping injury. For a brief moment he thought it was going to work. The liquid seeped into the wound, the edges rippling, growing. Raek's body arched, the muscles in his neck straining. Then the effect started to fade." No!" Wyatt put his hands on Raek's body, pressing the edges of the wound together. He ignored his friend's choking cry of pain, he just kept up the pressure. Raek's wound was so deep, so wide, that it looked like the potion couldn't bridge the gap between the cut. It initially seemed like Wyatt was right; the edges of the wound started to grow, new flesh appearing, bridging the gap as Wyatt applied more pressure. Then, horrifically, the flesh started to knit over Wyatt's fingers. Then the affect started to fade, then stopped completely. Wyatt went to pour more, but Raek shook his head, his voice a weak whisper." No point. Too weak. Too much blood."" Raek? Are you — you can talk?"" Healed throat. Maybe lungs. Doesn't matter." Wyatt dashed his arm over his eyes, feeling like he was having trouble breathing. It had all gone so wrong, so fast. Raek gave Wyatt a tired smile, one full of regret and sorrow." Don't look like that. Sometimes — sometimes the adventure goes this way. It's … my fault. I got us killed." Wyatt shook his head." It wasn't your fault. It just … happened."" yeah. Do me a favour?"" Anything." Raek tried to reach his sleeve, fumbling, but gave up. Being too weak to move. He looked up at the sky, his breath slowing." on my arm. My Adventurer tag. The others too. Can you take them out? To the guild? Our families … they'd want to know." Wyatt gently moved Raek's sleeve back, revealing a dull bronze tag with writing engraved upon it, affixed to his upper arm with a leather cord. He removed it, holding it tightly in his hand." I will, Raek. I promise." Raek smiled faintly." Knew I could. Knew I — I wish we'd met you earlier. It was … fun. Adventuring wi—" Wyatt softly called out Raek's name, but the Adventurer was gone. He reached out and carefully shut the [Swordsman's] eyes. Then he bowed his head, letting the grief come. Feeling the loss in full. Wyatt knelt on the soft grass, stained with his companion's blood. Knelt under the blue, cloudless sky, with the warm sun on his back. Knelt, surrounded by the dead.