The World Which Is, CH 27 (Patreon)

“Everyone,” Herbert calls as me and Sasha end our patrol at the front of our carts. “Make sure your weapons are ready.” He’s scanning the tree line, which feels closer to the road. “We just left Court’s civilization range.”

“That means we’re completely in the wilderness now,” Sasha explains.

“Right.” Settlements lower the surrounding wilderness. Grandmothers told us that multiple times, and dad can go on and on about it since it means just stepping into the forest is more dangerous than the fields lining it. But because leaving was never my plan, I never paid too much attention. “Does it mean we will be attacked?”

“It shouldn’t,” she replies in a tone that makes me think she doesn’t believe it.

“How do you know we’re completely in the wilderness?” I ask Herbert, who is still scanning the tree. “I’m not seeing any difference.”

“It’s a scout ability,” he replies.

“And can you tell how likely we are to be attacked?”

“Well, we weren’t on the way to Court,” he answers, as if that’s enough of an explanation. “Go for your bow,” he tells me.

“I’m more skilled with the sword.”

“But that’ll put you on the front line, and I’m sorry to say this, but you aren’t skilled enough for it. We’re not like the guards in Court, we aren’t trained to look after the newest members, so you need to stay as far from the actual fighting as you can. Think of it this way,” he adds as I’m about to protest. “You’re an archer, not a swordsman, for now.”

That mollifies me; a little.

Then he smiles. “But don’t worry about it. This will probably be an uneventful trip.”

It’d be easier to believe him if the rest of the team, as well as the drivers, weren’t all on edge. Sasha taps my shoulder and we go back to our patrol.

She’s silent for all of it, eyes on the trees, staff in hand.

* * * * *

Helen is going on about how, when she grew up, her plan was to be an acrobat, travel with carnivals, wow her audience, and in the dark of the night, sneak into houses and liberate valuable items.

“But that wasn’t to be,” she adds with a theatrical sigh. “The system had a calling for me that involved interacting with people more directly.”

Her class was Messenger. I didn’t have to ask; she volunteered the information. It wasn’t the only thing she volunteered. I get now why she’s the one handling most of the communications with the drivers and other groups.

System, does she like to talk.

Then she falls silent.

“Equip your bow,” she whispered, scanning the trees, “and pick up the pace. We need to reach the others.”

I equip it and get an arrow ready, trying to see what she picked up as we hurry to the others. They are on alert, too. Even the carts are slowing. Which seems like the wrong thing to do. If everyone expects a problem, shouldn’t they go faster to leave the area as quickly as possible?

“Don’t you just hate the quiet?” Evelyn whispers?

I’m about to ask what she means. There are plenty of sounds around us when I realize those only come from the carts. The forest has fallen utterly silent.

“This isn’t normal, is it?” I whisper, and she shakes her head.

“Max,” Herbert says, “stay by Dennis.”

“I don’t need—”

“You’re going to need arrows,” Max says. “Whatever’s coming is going to take longer than those twelve in your quiver.”

“Don’t they always?” I ask.

“It’s why you’re going to want to buy them in bulk and get a larger quiver. Two treens is the minimum you want when you get your own.”

We’re silent as we walk beside the crawling cart. I imagine I can feel the coming attack. That any minute, there’s going to be a system message announcing the start of the battle.

Instead, it’s the sound of trees crashing down that announces it. It’s too loud to be only one, even as large as trees have to get deeper in the forest.

Daz sighs. “A treen we’re dealing with Stogers again.”

“That’s not a bet,” Georges replies, “since they’re what’s always in this area.”

“You’d think there would be less of them at this point, considering how many we have to kill each time.” More trees come crashing down. This time, I can see those in front shudder in reaction.

“That’s true only if the system isn’t making them reproduce faster,” Helen says. “Which we all know it does. The wilder a place, the faster it happens. Drivers! Take cover!”

Max grabs and pulls me to the front of the next cart as more trees crash down; I can feel it in the ground now. He hooks his quiver, so it hangs at hip height. He points to the left of it. “Stand there and take your time. The others will push them back when they break through the tree line. What you want is to max out your accuracy.” He grins. “Get ready for a solid boost in your skill. This isn’t going to be fast.”

“About accuracy? What is the max I can take it to?”

“Technically, there is no maximum. Each second you take boosts it, but you want to shoot those bastards before they get through my friends, so five to six seconds is what I advise. Even at your skill and attributes, it’s going to make each shot count.”

I nod and trees fall into the front ones, bringing those down with them. Behind is a long stretch of downed trees, broken low, and beings…

Monsters…

Stoger, Level 2
Stogers are large creatures evolved from docile earth elementals into being with a vicious hatred for anything not made of the same material as them.
Perception Check Failed

The one I’m looking at is maybe half my height, but nearly as broad, and it looks to be made of stone. There are a lot of them, but also a lot of larger ones.

Stoger, Level 5
Stogers are large creatures evolved from docile earth elementals into being with a vicious hatred for anything not made of the same material as them.
Perception Check Failed

And four fu—

Stoger, Level 23
Stogers are large creatures evolved from docile earth elementals into being with a vicious hatred for anything not made of the same material as them.
Perception Check Failed

—giant ones at the back.

“Shoot,” Max orders, loosing arrows, and I take one from the quiver and aim.

Even with that, my first three miss, well the Stoger I was aiming for. There’s so many of them, even those hits something. My fourth one hits my intended target, then motion out the corner of my eye makes me look.

Chuck is running along the carts, a metal staff in hand, Silver at his side. Instead of the harness, or the jacket and jeans I’ve seen him in, The leather armor is covered with metal plates. He stops halfway between us and the fighting, then looks over his shoulder in our direction.

“Get ready. I’m bringing one to you.”

Max curses, as I open my mouth to ask what—

Chuck’s gone. In his place, a larger Stoger stands there, seemingly confused.

Stogers, Level 8
Stogers are large creatures evolved from docile earth elementals into being with a vicious hatred for anything not made of the same material as them.
Perception Check Failed

In the distance, there’s a boom that shakes the ground.

“Take it down!” Max yells as it turns toward the front line.

I miss two shots in my hurry to fire. I take a breath and take the time to aim. Daz has turned to face it, and other guards are reaching the fighting.

I fire and hit. It doesn’t react and I miss three shots because it’s all it took to annoy me. I take another breath, aim, and fight against being annoyed as I miss again. The next one hits, and my elation makes me miss the following shot.

Two guards join Daz, and I put him, them, and my misses out of my mind—I try to anyway—and focus on taking an arrow, nocking it, aiming, and letting it go. At first in the Stoger Daz is fighting, then any see on the front line.

This is like the monster waves in Court. Grandmother drilled into our heads that those weren’t about being the one with the most kills, or the most anything. It’s about playing our part, so as many people survived as possible.

When the cry sounds, it takes two shots to register. Both hit their target. The glancing, when I realize it’s someone that screamed, is reflexive. Then I move without thinking, sending my bow to my inventory, equipping my sword and running at the Stoger who overturned the wagon.

Stogers, Level 4
Stogers are large creatures evolved from docile earth elementals into being with a vicious hatred for anything not made of the same material as them.
Perception Check Failed

This is going to suck.

I slash at its back as it grabs a woman. The tip of my sword bites and leaves a line that oozes something gray and misty. It roars and drops her to back hand me.

Yep, it sucks.

I land on my back, a quarter of my health gone, and the stun debuff nice and orange. It’s going to be there a while if I don’t do something while the Stoger lumbers in my direction.

I will it away, and instead of the failed check I’ve grown used to, half my willpower vanishes along with the debuff. I’m on my feet, then wince. The lack of debuff doesn’t mean the pain isn’t there.

I attack while the wagon’s occupants get away, and… I get my ass handed to me.

I knew this was going to suck.

My hits that connect pretty much all slide off its rocky hides, I avoid its first two punches, the third is a glancing blow that takes off an eighth of my health, the fourth is solid and brings my health down under a fifth, and comes with a dazed debuff.

Can’t focus enough to will it away. So I’m watching three of it walk in my direction, only now noticing the arrows that pepper it.

Well, this is it for—

Someone is before me. There are flashes of a sword, then just flashes as someone else joins in. Then there’s four and the Stoger falls.

I’m able to focus when Daz crouches next to me. “That was stupid. Herb told you to stay with Max and shoot arrows.”

“They were in danger,” I reply.

“Getting yourself kill isn’t the smart thing to do.”

“They were in danger,” I reply, my tone sharper.

He stops looking me over to stare. “Do you have any idea how lucky you are I noticed that giant drop in your health? I was kind of busy myself.”

“They—”

“Yeah, I got it the first two times.” He looks up. “Anyone has healing magic? Our healer’s busy with the injured at the front.”

“Down!” Someone yells and I bite of the scream as I reflexively hunch in on myself.

Something big flies over us and crashes in the trees on the other side of the road. I look in the direction it came from and I’m not entirely sure I believe what I’m seeing. Chucks fighting another one of those giant Stoger. His armor’s gone and when he blocks the fist coming down on him with his staff, he sinks into the ground a little, Only to then straighten, swing and knock the thing off its feet as the staff connects under its large chin.

When it falls, the ground shakes.

Chuck looks around, and he looks pissed. Then he walks toward the fighting.

“I think it’s about to end,” someone says.

“What about the other two giants?” I ask.

Daz snorts. “He killed those two getting back here.”

Someone offers me a lavish plate of food. “It’s going to boost your healing.” He helps me sit up and offers me a fork.

I eat. I’m not going to pass on healing help in the state I’m in.

As I finish, the tab for my combat log flashes; a lot.

“It’s over,” Daz says.

You have gained a level. You are now level 3