Chương 4: Aftermath

Ch. 04 - Aftermath There is a tendency towards assuming that only someone with a [Class] can be competent in a particular field. I saw that first hand; people from my world started sorting themselves and others into 'useful' and 'not useful' depressingly quickly. Somehow forgetting that [Skill] doesn't necessarily equate to skill. This only became worse the more I travelled. Ask a person if they know how to make bread, and they will just stare at you blankly, confused. Saying that they don't have the [Baker] class.

- from the writings of Steadholder Eckhart"Wyatt? Wyatt!" He woke up, feeling confused for a few moments. Wyatt blinked, trying to get his bearings. He was laying down on his back, his head cradled by the soft loamy ground. It was oddly comfortable. There were people gathered around, looking down at him. Then everything came back. Wyatt's eyes snapped open, and he tried to sit up.

"What? What's going on—" A hand on his chest kept him from getting up. It was Sam, and she looked both concerned and relieved.

"Thank god. You wouldn't wake up at first, and I thought … it doesn't matter. How are you feeling?" Wyatt groaned, and this time Sam helped him to sit up. She kept a hand on his shoulder though, supporting him in case he needed it. Wyatt gave her a rueful smile.

"Like I got hit by a truck." Sam gave him a half-smile in return, nodding her head to the side.

"It's not quite a truck, but that thing is probably heavy enough to count. It almost crushed you." Wyatt glanced to where Sam was pointing. The stag lay in the clearing, a ring of churned up earth surrounding it. It looked even bigger dead, and the body was steaming slightly in the humid air of the forest. Wyatt gave Sam a wry look.

"Yeah, it was kind of a stupid thing to do. But it was all I could think of." At that, Anders moved into view. He looked discomforted and slightly ashamed. The [Squad Leader] cleared his throat a few times before speaking.

"You did more than us, Wyatt. We couldn't even — look, I just want to say … well done." Wyatt regarded the big man, holding back his immediate response. This whole endeavour had been stupidly dangerous and unnecessary, and Anders and Royce had only made it worse. But Anders looked genuinely remorseful, so Wyatt just took a deep breath.

"Thanks, Anders. I'm just glad we all made it — wait, is David alright? And Sam, you were hurt too. How bad was it?" Sam shook her head, her lips quirking. She turned slightly, lifting her shoulder to show Wyatt her upper arm. There was a vivid cut across the side of her bicep, but it wasn't bleeding. In fact, it looked cauterised; the flesh reddened like she'd been burned. Sam shrugged.

"I'm not too bad. It barely hurt once the shock had worn off. Small mercies, eh?" Wyatt looked seriously at her.

"Just because it's not bleeding doesn't mean it's okay. We still need to keep it clean. I don't know what we'll do if you get an infection out here." Sam nodded, looking just as serious.

"I know. I'll keep it clean as I can. David's worse off than me though, he broke some ribs when the stag kicked him." Wyatt winced at that, even though he wasn't surprised. David had been kicked hard enough to send him flying.

"Did you test to see if —" Sam raised a hand to cut Wyatt off.

"Yeah, I checked. He said he doesn't have any pain breathing, so he probably doesn't have any shards pressing against his lungs. I bound his chest with a spare shirt. Other than that, he'll just have to take it easy." David walked up, moving carefully like every step was painful. He raised a hand, smiling, but then lowered it with a grimace as the motion aggravated his ribs.

"I'll be okay. But, Wyatt, that was amazing! I was winded and couldn't move, but I saw what happened. I thought we were going to all get wiped out by a damn deer! But then you killed it." At that, Royce spoke up. He seemed even more irritable than usual.

"What, no concern for me?" Wyatt met the [Hunter's] eyes. Here at least he wasn't going to be worried about sparing any feelings. Wyatt didn't smile, just bared his teeth.

"You seem alright to me. Lucky, hey?" Royce's face mottled a shade of red, but he just looked to one side instead of firing back for once. Anders clapped his hands together, attempting joviality.

"Still, look on the bright side everyone — we succeeded! Look at this thing! We are going to eat well tonight. And a fight like that — I bet we'll all level as well!" Wyatt slowly got to his feet, checking himself for any injuries. His whole body ached from being both shocked and crushed by the stag, but he seemed otherwise fine. He didn't notice Sam looking intently at him, and jumped slightly when she spoke.

"Speaking of — Wyatt, did you level just now?" Royce spat bitterly to one side. He was kicking at the deer carcass, seeming dissatisfied with everyone and everything. The [Hunter] spoke dismissively.

"What are you talking about, woman? That only happens when we sleep." Samantha's eyes narrowed at the wiry man, but she let it go. She shrugged.

"Wyatt was unconscious for a bit. I figure it was close enough to count. So, did you level, Wyatt?" Anders brightened up even more.

"Hey, yeah! Wyatt, is Sam right? Did you get a new class? Maybe [Hunter] like Royce? You must have after finishing off that beast." Royce's face went even darker at hearing that, his mouth twisting like he was tasting something sour. Wyatt ignored him though, shaking his head slowly. He thought back; the voice that had announced his level up was still just as vivid in his mind as when it had first spoken.

"No new class. But I levelled up in [Survivalist]. Twice. And I got two new skills." David moved closer, clearly excited.

"That makes you, what, level 7? Damn, you're almost double us already. And you have the [Forager] class as well, don't you? What skills did you get?" Wyatt smiled awkwardly at David. He got the other guy's enthusiasm, but David was the most excited out all of them about their new abilities. It verged on mania at times.

"Yeah, I'm level 7 now. I got [Danger Sense] and [Desperate Strike] as skills." Sam nodded thoughtfully at hearing that.

"I can see why you got [Desperate Strike]. If you'd timed it wrong, that stag would have skewered you."

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"I wonder how something like [Danger Sense] would work?" David bounced on his feet, forgetting about his ribs as he got caught up in the moment. Even after grimacing in pain, he still looked animated.

"I wish I had something to take notes on! So you can get active attack skills as well. That's so interesting!" Royce still looked dour, but his eyes brightened a little with curiosity even though he tried to hide it.

"Is it?" David hesitated for a moment at the tone in Royce's voice, but then he rallied. He beamed at Wyatt.

"It is! I thought certain skills might be locked behind what class you got — you know, like a game. But this opens up so many possibilities!" Anders nodded, looking almost as invested as David.

"That is good news. Really good news! I was growing concerned that Wyatt wouldn't be able to defend himself without the proper skills, for all that his class has been useful." Sam raised an eyebrow at hearing that. She turned and gave the still steaming carcass of the deer a light kick.

"Probably not something to worry about considering how badly we all did. All of us apart from Wyatt." Wyatt was pleased to hear her say that, even though to his mind Sam had been just as good if not better. Her movements had looked effortless when they'd been fighting the stag, and if Anders hadn't fouled her, Wyatt was confident they could have taken it down together. Even if it would have taken longer. Before he could say it though, Anders hesitated. The big man cleared his throat again.

"… you're right, Sam. Wyatt, I — should have listened to you. Listened to what you were saying." Wyatt was taken aback by how sincere Anders sounded, so he waved the apology away, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

"It's alright. We are all new to this. I guess we were relying on our classes too much. Having a [Skill] doesn't mean it's going to work. That stag didn't have too much trouble in dodging you." Anders took a deep breath.

"Yeah. That was … surprising. I thought that [Power Strike] would mean that — it doesn't matter. I'm just glad we all came through it okay. Come on, let's get this thing cut up. We'll find some firewood and make camp here." Wyatt choked back an incredulous laugh at hearing that. He thought Anders was joking, but then he saw the others agreeing, even Sam. Wyatt tried to be diplomatic, telling himself that it wasn't their fault. They had different backgrounds to him, they didn't have his experience.

Still, common sense should matter as well, right?

"That wouldn't be a good idea, Anders. We shouldn't stay here longer than necessary."

"Why not?" Because Anders looked genuinely perplexed, Wyatt modulated his tone even more.

"A big kill like this — any predator nearby would already be aware of it. Or even scavengers. Actually, Royce — can you use your skill to check if there is anything nearby? You said you could specify, didn't you?" Royce grumbled a little, but turned to face the forest. Then he hesitated.

"Can't. It's on cooldown." Wyatt rolled his eyes a little at that.

"Fantastic. Anyway, if there are predators in this forest, they'd be able to smell this. We can't hang around and risk it. So we take what we can and leave the rest." Anders looked in dismay at the huge carcass of the deer. Clearly he'd been thinking they would be able to stay here and enjoy a relative feast for a few days. Anders swallowed, then his shoulders slumped.

"I suppose it would be pretty stupid not to take your advice now." Wyatt nodded absently. He was already scanning the forest, working out how much they could easily carry. They could harvest enough meat for a decent meal, but anything else they would have to try and preserve. Which, considering their capabilities and resources, would mean smoking it. It was tough to find firewood in this forest. The ground was damp, and the vast majority of the flora consisted of the massive trees.

Luckily though, the bark from the trunks was thick enough that you could actually build a fire out of it. It burnt a little too quickly to be ideal, but still longer than what you would find on Earth. It was feasible that they could keep a fire going long enough to smoke some of the stag's meat. It wasn't ideal for preservation, but if they dried it out correctly, the meat would last a lot longer than carrying it around raw. Wyatt muttered his skill under his breath as he looked about the forest.

"[A Safe Place to Rest] … okay, there's a spot not too far from here. We'll harvest what we can and then set out." As Wyatt started to undo the bindings on his spear in order to free his knife, he realised that he had effectively just taken charge. He glanced up at Anders, but the [Squad Leader] looked nonplussed more than anything. Anders looked around at the others before awkwardly clapping his hands.

"You heard Wyatt — David, you should rest while we cut up the meat. Then we'll head out. And then we can eat!" Wyatt crouched by the dead stag. He ran his hands over its coat gingerly, but whatever electric properties it held was now gone. He then set about butchering the animal. He wasn't as neat as he would have liked, but he at least knew what he was doing. Still, it was bloody work and Wyatt resolved that finding a water source was the second priority.

Water in the forest didn't consist of running streams or creeks. Rather it appeared in tranquil pools dotted about liberally in small glades. Without his [Water Purification] skill, Wyatt wouldn't normally trust still water, so he was glad to have it. Washing his hands wouldn't require its use though. Samantha crouched down next to him as Wyatt worked, looking with interest at what he was doing.

"Find anything yet?" Wyatt glanced at her, raising an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?" Sam flashed him a smile.

"No drops or loot? You know, like what David was talking about. A game?" Wyatt snorted as he looked at the bloody carcass he was cutting into.

"Nothing that I've seen. And I'm not going to go exploring either."

"Don't blame you. And I think that would really freak me out — if there was some kind of treasure inside of an animal like that." Wyatt smiled in agreement and got back to work. Sam watched for another few moments before speaking again.

"You're good at that."

"You sound surprised?" Samantha shrugged, hugging her knees to her chest.

"I wouldn't know where to start. And regardless of Royce's class, I doubt he would either."

"I … used to hunt around my grandparent's place. Farming was hard because … well, you know why. So we had to get what we could." Sam looked interested at hearing that. She leant forward, her eyes lighting up.

"So you were a proper rural kid? I thought you were like us, living in one of the commune cities." Wyatt shook his head, his tone absent as he worked.

"Sort of rural. After my parents passed my grandparents took me in. I was … twelve? Something like that. But I was a city kid before that." David wandered over, having overheard their conversation. He crouched down next to them, letting out a small grunt as he favoured his ribs.

"No wonder you're so good at this. But … why didn't you get the [Hunter] class then? Since you've actually done it before." Wyatt glanced at David, then continued the bloody work. He lay some of the meat to one side — it wasn't exactly clean just laying it on the ground, but they'd wash it before cooking it.

"I don't know — maybe it's tied into my [Survivalist] class? I don't mind, I like the skills I've got so far. They're useful." Royce couldn't seem to help himself. He sneered at Wyatt.

"Useful, maybe. But that won't keep you alive when it matters. I've got [Shadow Walk], [Quick Stab], and [Detect Prey] — if you run into trouble, what are you going to do? [Desperate Strike] sounds like —" Wyatt subtly shook his head at Sam; she looked so incredulously angry at what Royce was saying that he wasn't sure what she'd do. Instead, Wyatt just gave Royce an easy smile.

"You might be right, but who knows? And I've been meaning to bring that up, Royce. Your skills don't exactly sound like the kind of thing a hunter would find useful. What's up with that?" Royce glared, hesitated, then just shrugged.

"What's wrong with my skills? They let me sneak up and kill something." Wyatt's smile widened.

"Theoretically, right?" Sam snorted an indelicate laugh at that, trying to contain her mirth as Royce stomped off in embarrassment. However proud the [Hunter] was of his skills, he hadn't made a good showing of using them against the stag. Then Sam sobered.

"You're right though, Wyatt. His skills don't match up with his class." Wyatt put down another thick cut of meat, and then set up harvesting some smaller cuts for preservation.

"I suppose it depends on what you're hunting." David looked between Wyatt and Samantha uneasily.

"I … he's maybe a little too bloodthirsty …?"

"That's putting it mildly." Wyatt finished up harvesting the deer in short order. There was a sizeable pile of meat for them to carry, but the remaining carcass of the stag dwarfed it. There was nothing they could do about it though; there was just too much for them to take. Wyatt rested a hand on the neck of the animal, feeling slightly guilty that so much was going to waste when they'd attacked and killed it.

"Sorry. I appreciate the sacrifice though. You were a magnificent beast — even if you nearly killed me." Sam heard his whispered words to the dead stag, but she said nothing. She clasped Wyatt on the shoulder then went to gather her belongings. They would have to wrap the meat in some spare clothing and then carry it both in their hands and in their packs. It would make a mess, but since they'd have to wash up anyway it wasn't too onerous to endure for a while.

Wyatt was about to get his own pack, when something made him freeze. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, a sensation like he was being watched. Wyatt quickly checked the members of his squad, but they hadn't seemed to notice anything untoward. He scanned the surrounding area, trying to figure out what was making him so jumpy. Wyatt was about to shrug the feeling off, when he saw it. It was so well camouflaged that he almost missed it.

There, peeking out from behind one of the massive trees, its body hidden in the shadows of the tangle of surface roots, was an animal. Its fur was a shadowy grey in colour, with a silver sheen that was reminiscent of the stag. Its ears were large, tilted back at this moment, and tipped with black. Its face was pointed as it watched the group, its black nose quivering as it scented. The eyes were large and a shockingly vibrant blue, the colour of a cut and polished sapphire. Wyatt let out a slow breath.

It was a fox, but unlike any fox that he'd ever seen before. He couldn't quite tell how big it was, but he thought it was quite small; perhaps a juvenile. The fox had seemed quite relaxed as it hid amongst the tree roots, but then it became aware of Wyatt looking directly at it. It straightened slightly, its fur puffing out in what seemed like surprise that it had been spotted. Wyatt saw intelligence glittering in its eyes. The fox's movement had alerted another of the squad to its presence.

Royce's head snapped up as he saw the animal, and his knife flew out of his sheath into his hand. His eyes glittered, and Wyatt was starkly reminded of the moment that the man had gained the [Hunter] class. When he'd leapt on the ground rodent and stabbed it so many times that only a ragged mess had remained. David was right. Royce was more than a little bloodthirsty. Royce leapt towards the fox, moving fast.

He was snarling, but looked happy at the same time; like he was using this opportunity to relieve his frustrations. Wyatt was about to yell at the man to stop — there was no point in killing a defenceless animal, even if he could catch it — but before he could, Wyatt stumbled. What sounded like alarm bells were ringing in his head, loud enough to stop him dead. He clutched at his skull, trying to work out what was going on.

Then the same feeling that he'd had when they'd attacked the stag swept over him, and Wyatt realised what it was. It was a warning, given to him as a skill because of his caution and wariness. [Danger Sense].