Fantasy Economics 101 - Chapter 3 (Patreon)

Chapter 3 – Making a friend is sometimes as easy as saying hello

"Farking courts, that thing's nimble!" the axeman bellowed even as he jumped over a fallen tree trunk. "Don't lose it!"

"Easier said than done!" the archer woman barked back and, using the shoulder of her comrade as a stepping stone, she deftly boosted herself onto a low-hanging branch. "It's over there! Argus, use your magic already!"

"I can't!" the third member of the group argued back between labored breaths. "We're in the middle of a godsdamned forest! We can't start a fire here!"

"Sheit! I told you to branch out, but nooo! 'Combustion spells are always useful' my arse!"

"Stop arguing, you two!" the woman on the branches yelled at her compatriots and pointed to their left. "It changed directions. I'll try to get ahead and cut off its escape path."

"No!" the man with the staff yelled out, stopping her just as she was about to leap to another branch. "It could talk, and it was wearing robes! It might be some kind of lich! It's foolish to confront it alone!"

"Stop spouting nonsense!" the axeman argued back with a dismissive snort. "What would a gods-forsaken lich be doing in the middle of nowhere like this?"

"How should I know!" the man with the staff yelled back, and neither of them noticed that their third companion decided to ignore them and already rushed ahead.

In the meantime, less than fifty paces ahead of the arguing adventurers, a certain skeleton was doing his best to evade his pursuers by any means necessary. While his undead body could exert force way beyond the scope of a mortal man's, it ended up hindering his escape just as much as it helped him. While he could certainly leap great distances, he was hardly used to his new body or this time of movement, which led him to repeatedly collide with the low canopy of the trees over him. Even so, he was forced to keep repeating the process, as the robes he wore for disguise not only hampered him while he ran, the hem kept getting caught on the shrubs and fallen branches. These small obstructions added up, and whenever he tore himself free, his low weight caused him to stagger and lose his bearing anyway.

When presented with these two options, flinging himself across the forest suddenly appeared to be the more efficient way to travel. Unfortunately, it also caused him to lose track of where he was heading, and while he did his best not to stray too far from the road, at the end of the day, avoiding his attackers took priority over such concerns.

But speaking of his pursuers, even as he sailed through the air, desperately trying to land on his feet and avoid colliding with a tree, he couldn't help but wonder just who those three could've been. The cart's owner called them 'adventurers', but while the word itself was fairly self-explanatory, he couldn't remember ever hearing about such a profession back when he was alive. Were they caravan guards of some sort? But if so, why did they abandon the wagon in favor of pursuing him through the forest? Then mercenaries, maybe? But then again, why would they defy their employer like that?

As much as he was left confused by this strange new profession, one thing he could conclude for sure: during the time he was dead, the perception of the undead must have radically changed. Back in his day, the Necromancers' Guild wasn't particularly well-regarded, no small part due to how they were constantly butting heads with the Temple of Unalas in the courtrooms of the Empire, but the undead themselves were considered little more than a type of magical automaton. The Necromancers' Guild operated by contracting people in dire financial situations, and in exchange for donating their bodies after death, they would receive a lump sum compensation. Then, depending on the contract, they would be raised and work for the Guild for however many years, during which they recouped the investment by loaning them out, mainly to the Empire itself, for use during large-scale construction projects.

It was a lucrative business and the main reason why they could continue performing their craft despite being constantly mired in legal battles with one of the Seven Temples. As such, the skeletons he had seen when he was alive were considered to be either a convenient workforce or poor wretches exploited after their death, depending on one's stance on the issue. No one in their right mind would've attacked one on sight, and an undead capable of speech and rational thought was a one-in-a-million occurrence that was widely celebrated as a triumph of magic and humanity as a whole coming closer to replicate the miracles of gods.

So, all of that considered, just what could've caused those three to assault him without even allowing him to explain himself? Maybe Unalas finally won the court case and the undead got outlawed? Would that explain their behavior, he wondered as he ducked under a half-fallen trunk? They looked more excited than outraged though, and there was a mention of 'loot', so… maybe the undead had some kind of bounty on their heads? Could they be chasing him to turn in the proof of extermination at an Empire garrison in exchange for money?

Whether that was the case or not, one thing was for sure: getting into a city and visiting the temple of Alma just became exponentially more difficult than he originally imagined. However, just as he thought that, an arrow whizzed past him, punching right through the sleeve of his robe. Glancing over, he could see the archer woman following behind him, just a couple dozen paces to his right, and the lights in his eyes changed into the shape of a glare at once.

He thought he already gained a substantial lead on the trio, but by the looks of it, she left the others behind in order to pursue him. While the arrows posed a relatively small threat to his bony body, he couldn't exactly ignore them, and although he was sure that he could lose her once she ran out of stamina, he was already losing track of the road and was afraid that if the chase kept up for long, he would definitely get lost in the forest all over again.

What other option did he have? Maybe he could try to communicate with her again?

"Wait! Please stop shooting at me and let me explain my situation!"

It was worth an attempt, but it only resulted in another arrow flying his way, and this time it embedded itself into his backpack. He really hoped it didn't hit the book, but had no time to check. What other option did he have at his disposal, he wondered? Technically, he could try and directly confront the woman, though he wasn't sure how to go about it. Just scaring her off wouldn't work, and since he dropped his shovel during his first tumble, he didn't have a weapon either. While he could always try to grab a fallen branch as a makeshift bludgeon, he would've needed to look for one first, and even if he did, there was no guarantee that during the time he was trying to chase her away, the other two wouldn't catch up to them, bringing the situation back to square one.

No matter how he looked at it, his best option was to just keep running. Unlike him, his pursuers didn't have endless stamina, and sooner or later, they would run out of breath and would've had to give up catching him. So long as he wouldn't get cornered or run into a dead end, it was by far the safest option. However, just as he decided on this court of action, he noticed something peculiar. Through the haze, he could make out an indistinct glow, bobbing up and down and steadily growing in size.

Was it the man with the staff? How did he get ahead of him? The sudden sense of apprehension sent vivid chills down his spine, a curious sensation, considering he had no skin or hairs to stand on end. He didn't have time to dwell on the peculiarity though, as once the glowing blob came closer, accompanied by a throaty roar, his apprehension turned into panic. It wasn't the mage. It was a bear. An enormous bear with two twisted horns growing out of its skull, grey fur with strange swirling patterns on it, and eerily shining red eyes.

"Blessed sheit! It's a tralokh! This is the best day ever!"

Once again, the strange 'adventurer' woman sounded more excited by the sudden appearance of the creature than anything else, and without further ado, she broke off her pursuit and moved back several paces. The giant horned bear, on the other hand, continued to charge in the company of the same, bone-rattling roar. Since he just landed, the skeleton's footing was unsteady, and after being further unbalanced by the sudden appearance of the beast, the best he could do was an undignified tumble.

By the time he scurried to his feet, the monster already came to a halt and faced him. It was already big, but then it rose to a stand on its hind legs and looked down at the skeleton like it was eyeing a sumptuous prey. He wasn't short in life, and he more-or-less retained his height as an undead, yet the monstrous bear was over three heads taller than him, with front legs the size of tree trunks and its individual claws longer than his bony fingers. He imagined that a single swipe from those would send his bones scattered all over the forest floor, a prospect he truly wasn't keen on.

As luck would have it, the creature wasn't in a hurry to attack him, and its ominously glowing eyes were closely observing his every movement. Was it hesitating, he wondered? Now that he could catch his breath, colloquially speaking, many thoughts and questions rushed through his mind. Why did this giant bear attack him, and not the archer woman? At first, he thought it must've been because it was looking for easy prey, but he was all bones! There was no meat on him, and he didn't carry any food in his backpack either. That, combined with the hostile yet cautious way it acted told him that this beast wasn't searching for food. If not that, there was only one possible answer: it attacked him because he entered its territory.

If so, couldn't he get away as long as he showed he wasn't aggressive? He had no experience with animal taming, but hoped that raising his hands and backing down very slowly would get the message across.

"Easy there, buddy. I'm not here to—"

Despite his best efforts, the giant bear let out a rumbling growl and took a swipe at him. It was more due to luck than skill that he somehow managed to duck under the strike, but it had made the situation blindingly clear: the beast wasn't going to let him get away without a fight.

The next obvious question was whether he could run away from it, or not? During his survival training, he learned a thing or two about wildlife, and while he never had to use the knowledge until now, he could still remember a few important facts the military instructor drilled into his head at the Academy. In short, bears were bad news. They could run faster on the rough ground than a human on a flat road, they could climb trees, their noses could track you across a forest, and they were strong enough to peel a man right out of his armor. None of that information really helped him, but there was one last thing that he recalled that gave him a ray of hope.

While he was most likely joking, the instructor told them that if they had no other choice, they should aim for a bear's nose. It was apparently a sensitive area, and while there was a good chance it would consider it a challenge, it would at least reel back and give one a chance for a head-start at running away. Of course, he followed the story up by saying it would give the bear a good workout before dinner, I small chance was better than nothing.

In the meantime, the bear rose to its hind legs again, ready to swipe down with both of its enormous paws at once. It was the best opportunity he could hope for under the circumstances, so he set his feet and pulled his right arm back. While he received comparatively little training in hand-to-hand combat, with his teachers rather focusing on the ways to quickly and silently break a man's neck from behind, he had experienced his fair share of pub brawls in his youth, and thus he was very well aware of the mechanics of a good punch.

Since his skeletal body was too light to put much weight behind his strike, he imagined trying to throw a straight punch would've just sent him flying in the opposite direction, with his opponent no worse for wear. Instead, he needed to bring all the unnatural strength his undead body could muster to bear, and the most straightforward way to do that was by punching upwards. That way, so long as his stance was stable, the ground would stop him from flying away and allow him to pour every ounce of force into the impact, and since the bear was so much taller than him, the current situation was the best he could ask for. A small voice in the back of his mind was raising a minor objection, wondering if his body was even capable of withstanding the strain, but by this point, there was no turning back.

Roaring, the creature was about to bring its paws down on his head, but he was both faster and deadly accurate. His gloved fist hit the monstrous bear's nose dead on, and as it did, there was an enormous impact running down his arm, through his spine all the way down to his feet, and he could feel his boots slightly sinking into the damp forest soil. There was also a cracking sound and a sharp pain in his wrist, though it wasn't as bad as he feared. As the bear reeled back, he got ready to run away.

However, even as he was about to take the first step, his whole body froze in its track as the horned bear let out a blood-curdling whine and flailed while clawing at its own face. It was hard to believe, but the creature's entire snout was gone, pulverized into the rest of the skull, with one of its eyes dangling out of its sockets. Then, after a few spasms, the creature toppled backward with a pathetic whimper and lay motionless on the ground.

"What just—?"

Then, before he could even utter a single sentence to express the utter bewilderment that held him in its grasp, something even stranger happened. In a flash, the bear's side swelled, and with a wet popping sound, it burst open. Yet, instead of blood, offal, and intestines, what poured out was nothing short of a king's ransom in gold coins. The scene was so absurdly nonsensical that it took him several seconds and the sounds of his pursuers cutting through the underbrush to realize he was frozen solid in place in the middle of a chase. Still rattled by the experience, he blinked, his eye-lights disappearing and reappearing a couple of times before he glanced over at the archer woman, similarly shocked into silence.

After their eyes met, in a manner of speaking, silence lingered between the two, right until she jumped off the branch she was crouching on and showed her palms.

"Nila? Are you all right?" the robed man from before called out, but since he couldn't see him, he was sure they were still pretty far away. Nevertheless, since she seemed to give up on the pursuit, he didn't dwell on what happened anymore and broke into a dash, followed by a leap. A glance behind himself showed that she was no longer following him, and instead, she rushed up to the carcass and began hopping excitedly, like a child who just received the gift they wanted on Siebfest morning.

Ignoring her reaction, as well as the previous events, he exiled any and all stray thoughts from his mind and he continued to cut his way through the forest. He continued to climb, run, and leap for close to half an hour, and it wasn't until he was sure that he was no longer pursued that he finally slowed down. First, he went from a run to a walk, then from a walk to a teeter, and finally, he gave up the pretenses and sat down on a nearby rock. While his undead body had no concept of fatigue, his mind certainly wasn't so lucky, and after everything that he experienced in such a short span of time, he felt like his head was about to burst.

He needed some time to think and sort out his thoughts. Unfortunately, this new unlife of his had once again proven to lack any quiet moments, as just a few minutes after he settled down, his attention was grabbed by someone softly clearing their throat nearby. Glancing around, he couldn't find anyone on the ground level, so he reflexively looked up, and just a couple of meters off the ground, sitting on a thick branch, was a distinctly glowing person.

She was a tall and slim girl, wearing a strange hybrid between a robe and a dress. Her vibrant purple clothes hugged her contours, and while she had a lengthy, flowing skirt, a slit on its side revealed her long, barefoot legs. From the waist up, her outfit was cut in a way to emphasize her bust, and under her wide-brimmed hat, a pair of amber eyes stared at him curiously. Her face was youthful and framed by curly brown locks, and while she was maybe just a touch too thin to fit the beauty standards of his time, he had to admit that she was definitely attractive. All things considered, she wasn't someone one would expect to meet in the middle of a forest.

"So, mister… erm… Bear Puncher? Sir Bear Puncher?"

"Excuse me?" he blurted out in response to her uncertain question, and she waved her hands around like an embarrassed kid who just got caught doing something inappropriate. Maybe she was younger than she looked? At this point, he felt like nothing could surprise him anymore.

"N-Never mind!" She looked distinctly uncomfortable, which wasn't surprising, considering the circumstances. Still, after steeling herself, she made a strange gesture with her hands and muttered, "It's just that… ah… Wait, I should start with introductions! I completely forgot!" Silently staring, he waited for her to make up her mind. "I'm Elkayla Rinic! I live nearby!"

After proclaiming that, her face lit up like she just accomplished something monumental, and she suddenly winked at him.

"What was that for?" he blurted out, and after a long beat of belated realization, she flushed red and began waving her arms again, to the point he was surprised she could keep her balance on the branch.

"D-Don't mind that! It's just a force of habit! I can't help it!"

"Okay, then I won't," he answered flatly, still adhering to his newfound 'I refuse to be surprised by anything anymore' mantra. "Can I help you?"

"N-No. Or rather..." She paused and awkwardly swept a few strands of hair off her face before meekly stating, "I saw what happened, and I became terribly curious, and I was wondering if Sir Bear Puncher would like to accompany me for a chat? I-I mean, I live nearby, and I have tea and biscuits…" Suddenly, her eyes opened wide, and she began waving her arms around, for the third time. "Sorry! That was terribly inconsiderate, wasn't it?"

Looking at the young woman on the tree, he couldn't help but feel somewhat suspicious. He still didn't know how much the world has changed since his demise, and considering those 'adventurer' people's reaction, there was no guarantee she wasn't just trying to honey-trap him in order to turn him in for whatever theoretical bounty that may or may not exist. But then again, as he further thought about it, who would try to honey-trap an undead? Even if he had any libido left, it wasn't like he had the necessary body parts to act on it, and she should know this too.

Also, a beautiful young woman living in the middle of the forest sounded fairly suspicious in and of itself. That said, she was the very first friendly face he had encountered so far, and she could prove to be an invaluable source of information, something he desperately needed to understand what happened to the world in his absence and to claw his way out of his current predicament.

While he valued the pros and cons of the situation, and young woman became increasingly fidgety, and ultimately blurted out, "Have… I offended Sir Bear Puncher? Is that why you're silent?"

"No, not at all," he answered off-handedly, and seeing her face light up with relief, he soon made up his mind. His job, back when he was still alive, more or less required the ability to read other people, and after observing her for just a few short minutes, he already had a strong hunch that she didn't have a single deceptive bone in her body.

At last, he stood up, turned to the girl, and gave her a practiced bow.

"It would be my pleasure to have a chat, Lady Rinic. I thank you for your hospitality."

"Ah! There's no need to be so formal! Just call me Elkayla! O-Or… Kayla? Or is that too soon?"

"In that case, I'll go with Miss Elkayla. It's a pleasure to make acquaintance."

"Yes! It's the same for me, Sir Bear—"

"It's Raol," the skeleton cut her short and gave her another bow. "Special Field Agent Raol Viserwright, formerly of His Imperial Majesty's Secret Service. The pleasure is mine."