Chapter 3: Chapter Three: The Great Outdoors Should Die in a Fire

            Leo strolled through the forest, down gently rolling hills. He followed the brook as it meandered onward. The forest seemed picturesque—beautiful green trees with dappled light streaming through their leaves, with berry bushes in the small gaps between the trees.

            Occasionally, the gaps were larger, and Leo would encounter a sunlit meadow of grass with a carpet of flowers throughout to provide variety to the scenery. Bees buzzed, squirrels squeaked, and birds chirped as if nature itself were declaring its joy.

            Eventually, the brook met a pond at the dip between two small hills. It was a tiny pond that never got more than a few feet deep. A second brook also fed the over-ambitious puddle, and a small stream left it at the opposite end, about forty feet from where the brook entered. The pond was the center of a meadow, with the tree line about sixty feet from it in all directions, and flowers and grass were all around the jumped-up pothole.

Although it was barely a body of water, no more than a few feet deep even in the center, Leo took the opportunity to carefully wash his new body and the clothes he wore. He figured he looked like an idiot, lying in the shallow water lengthwise and rolling around, scrubbing himself. But that was preferable to smelling like a sloppy serial killer. Although the stains likely wouldn’t ever go away, Leo still washed his clothes. At least he got the smell out. Mostly.

It was barely into the late afternoon and still relatively warm and sunny.

Once Leo had gotten out and dried himself, his stomach grumbled. He took his bow from his back, nocked an arrow, and hid behind a tree about sixty feet from the pond. Animals head to water, right? Although there are feeder brooks, but still…

After a few minutes’ wait, a fox came nosing out from the trees on the other side of the clearing. It sniffed the air a couple of times, but fortunately, it was upwind of Leo. It cautiously walked down to the pond, glancing around carefully and still sniffing, before it bent down and lapped at the once-again clear waters.

Now’s my chance!

Leo drew back, as hard as his new weak, noodle-y arms would allow, and fired his arrow.

            It sailed to the farthest end of the pond from the fox and dropped into the water with a barely audible plop.

            One of the fox’s ears twitched, but it otherwise remained blissfully ignorant of the attack.

            Well, frik.

            Leo drew back again, trying to aim as carefully and as on-point as he could. He focused, drawing breath in and out, and then, when he felt he had attained the perfect Zen-archery state, he released again.

            The arrow flew on a fairly straight line toward the fox, but it dipped low, hit the ground once at a flat angle, and then plopped into the pond as well.

            Although it was at least closer to the fox, which jerked and took a few running steps, before looking around. The fox returned and started lapping at the water again.

            Since it’s obviously sensing no danger whatsoever from me… Leo thought, briefly half-disgusted with himself and half-amused.

            Eventually, the fox wandered away from its idyllic—and depressingly peaceful—drinking spot.

            Leo collected his two arrows from the pond, one from an area a few inches deep, and the other from the center, which was a few feet deep. He then spent a bit of time air-drying himself off again.

            So, do I try to ambush something with the sword, or practice the archery with two arrows and try for a ranged hunt again? Or just follow the stream hungry and hope for the best?

            It occurred to Leo that he didn’t really know how to start fires without a match, and that his new status sheet said he had penalties to resist disease. I probably shouldn’t eat raw meat. This is starting to all feel like me being an idiot.

            Despite that, a bit of a stubbornness possessed Leo. He might be out here a while, he wasn’t sure, and it made sense to learn to hunt and start fires while he wasn’t yet starving.

            There are only about five places an animal could remain hidden till it reaches the edge of the treeline around the pond. I’ll hide in a tree, like a jaguar, and strike from above.

            Although, I still smell faintly of blood.

            Feeling both smart and like a complete jackass, Leo stripped off his shirt and pants, placing one by each of the two trees at the upper and lower ends of the pond, where the brook entered, and the small stream exited. Hopefully, that’ll drive animals away from those points, and toward the tree I’m in, which is farthest from the bloody clothing.

            Now just in his underwear—which seemed like they were made of silk—Leo went back to the tree he had been hiding behind and looked up. It was a small tree, like most at the edge of the forest, and its first branches were within jumping height.

            First, he leapt up and put his sword onto the lower branch. Then he leapt up again, grabbed a branch, and prepared to power his way up. But his new, weak arms weren’t up to the task. After a moment, he figured out that he could essentially run up the side of the tree with his new agility while holding the branch and fling himself over.

            Sweaty and irritated at his weakness, Leo found himself on the lower branches of the tree. He picked his sword up and moved to crouch in a clump of leaves.

            Nothing appeared right away. Leo spent the time almost involuntarily thinking over the implications of everything that had happened. Most of his thoughts turned to Audrey. He really hoped that she wasn’t dead. Watching her get shot had been painful and shocking, but since he had seen her soul at the end being pulled into the gate, he hoped she was still… alive… somewhere.

            Although that creates a lot of moral questions. If she occupied someone’s body, did she push their soul out? This guy seemed to be volunteering his body, at least, what with lying down on the altar and all. And did her soul go nowhere, if there wasn’t a volunteer?

            Leo had no idea if she was dead, in some body he wouldn’t be able to identify, or a roaming soul, if this world had those.

            Either way, though, she’s lost to you, partially through your failure. Just like Lisa was. Because you weren’t good enough.

            Leo wrenched his mind back from that depressing line of thought, as he had trained himself to do over the years and forced himself onto a different tack.

            He glanced around, spotting no animals. He adjusted his stance on the branch, as his legs were killing him even after just a short while.

            My status sheet was interesting. I wonder what the normal maximum number of perks is? And I wonder how leveling works, since I was clearly listed as Level One, prominently right under my name. I wonder what the magics I possess allow me to do?

            I still can’t believe that I’m even thinking about magic. I wonder if I’ll still have magic once I get home? Man, that would be crazy. Maybe I could be a superhero.

            Leo was pulled from his amusing train of thought by a soft rustling below him.

            A small deer cautiously made its way through the sparse detritus below, just barely stirring the leaves. Its fur was a faded brown dappled with white, and it had scars along its flanks. Likely an older one.

            Leo gripped his sword tightly, tensing, preparing for when the deer’s careful stride would take the animal beneath him.

            Don’t fuck this up, Leo. Hit hard, but make sure to roll on the fall. This body is weaker than your old one, but it’s incredibly agile. Use that.

            The deer kept slowly walking forward until it was right underneath Leo.

            Leo felt the moment. With a half-meant prayer, he dropped down, swinging his sword in an arc onto the neck of the deer.

Leo strikes elderly deer for 12 damage (sword 4, critical x3(base critical x2, plus .5 for Predator perk, +.5 for 20 agility)). Elderly deer is mortally wounded.

 

            Leo’s strike cleaved the neck down to the bone and partway through, despite his weak strength. He rolled as he hit the ground, lightly cutting himself on his own sword. The ‘Elderly Deer’ collapsed to the ground and then briefly bleated while looking at Leo from where it lay on the ground, with accusing eyes. Its head dropped and it expired.

Leo has slain elderly deer. 0 experience gained. Only sentient creatures and magical beasts provide experience.

           

            Well, ain’t that just peachy? Leo thought to himself, irritated, even though he hadn’t been trying for experience.

As he stood, his mind went off on a tangent, and he wondered at the morals of a world where you could get experience, and presumably power, by killing sentient beings. Probably a bit on the dark side.

            Leo pulled out his sword and looked at it. “Well, I have steel,” he said to no one in particular. “I wonder if I can find a stone that’s similar enough to flint to make sparks?”

 

***

           

            A few hours later, with a sword that had been incredibly dulled and chipped except for the point from his efforts, Leo had finally made a fire. He had assembled a circle of stones, filled it with dry leaves and sticks he had found on the ground, and then whacked rocks until he had finally managed to, somehow, start said fire.

            He sat beside his work, underneath a small, broad-leafed tree.

            It had occurred to Leo, late in the process, that this was also probably not practicing fire safety. He had set up on the other side of the pond from where he had butchered the deer, since he didn’t want to attract beasts to him if he was near a still-fresh carcass. He was in the puddle of light cast by the campfire in the semi-dark around him.

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            The moon was up, and small, glowing blue moths flew around the pond and closed flowers. Leo had to admit that if he wasn’t fearful of being eaten, even the night in this forest would have been idyllic and pleasant.

            He had managed to make a chunk of deer meat that was only mildly undercooked, and about ten chunks that could charitably be described as “well-carbonized.” He had eaten the first, but for the remaining ones, he had decided he would carry them with him since he was pretty sure that “charred” would count as “smoked” for preservation purposes and last him a day or two.

            As Leo stared at the fire, he happened to glance up and spot a wolf observing him from about twenty feet deeper into the forest. Leo scrambled to his feet, spilling the meat everywhere, but after a second, he realized the wolf wasn’t attacking him. As Leo gave the canine a onceover, he realized it was the same wolf as earlier: brown-furred, red-eyed, with shoulders that came to where Leo’s belly was.

“Um… hey,” Leo said in as soothing a voice as he could. “So, um, you still don’t have to attack me.” He pointed toward the deer carcass on the other side of the pond. “I left meat over there so that vicious predators like yourself wouldn’t need to get your calories from me.”

            The wolf glanced in the direction Leo had pointed and stared at the carcass. After a second, it turned back to face Leo, still unmoving.

            “No, bad doggy,” Leo said, grimacing. He reached down and picked up a chunk of overcooked deer, waved it vaguely at the wolf, and then threw it toward the carcass. It didn’t make it quite all the way, but it did clear the pond. The blackened chunk of meat landed with a thunk, just like the rock it was.

            “Go get it! Go mangle the meat, my man-murdering mutt!” Leo almost laughed at himself hysterically—he always made jokes, frequently wordplay ones, in his head when he was upset or nervous. Now he was talking to a dog.

            The wolf stared at him, then rolled its eyes. Leo was briefly nonplussed, but his next coherent thought was, Cheeky bastard.

            The wolf ambled around the pond and over to the carcass, then dug into it.

            Leo called out to it, now beginning to suspect it did, at some level, understand him. “That’s a bribe! Eat the carcass, not the poor sap from another world who hates camping!”

            Leo watched the wolf for a bit, but it seemed content to gnaw at the carcass.

            Leo was bone-tired, despite the wolf eating on the other side of the pond. His initial fear was fading, since the wolf was conducting itself like a particularly large, not-very-aggressive dog. Despite everything that had happened today—the new world, the new body, Audrey getting shot—me getting shot—and now his trip through the woods with a bizarre, giant-ass wolf hanging around, he felt he would sleep well. He lay down on the ground next to his fire, hoping the smoke would keep the bugs off, put his arm under his head, and tried to stop thinking.

            For once, it worked.

 

***

           

            Slowly, reality returned. Leo was well rested and uninjured. He was also warm, with a fuzzy blanket, but it had fallen off, and he tried to pull it over him. It didn’t work.

            Fuzzy blanket?

            Leo opened his eyes. He was lying on the ground, up against the giant wolf.

            He gave a startled yelp, then rolled away from the wolf. He tumbled across his nicked and dulled sword, grabbed it, and then scrambled to his feet.

            The wolf opened its eyes and stared at him. Then it looked at Leo’s sword and gave a little huff of exhaled breath. It slowly stood, languidly stretching out by lowering its front.

            Then it nodded to him again, turned, and ran into the forest.

It took a moment for Leo to react, but he called out, “Thanks for not eating me!” in the direction the wolf had gone.

I can’t even with this wolf, and this world, Leo thought to himself.

After a moment, the chirping, buzzing, and squeaking of the forest returned. Leo glanced around and saw that the dawn had barely come, the light filtering into the trees at an angle, and there was no sun overhead.

            The bees get up early on this world.

            As his heart rate slowed, Leo yawned and rubbed his eyes, then gave a disgusted sniff. Despite multiple washings and a smoking, he could still faintly smell the blood on his clothes, which was gross. And he’d added a faint dog smell to the morass.

            He hadn’t thought to do this last night, but he looked at the sun, which appeared upriver from him. So I’m following this river stream west, currently on the south shore. Not that it really matters, since I have no idea where anything is, but good to know.

            Leo collected his busted sword, only the tip still sharp, and then grabbed his meat chunks. He quickly ate three, which were quite gross and tasted like charcoal. Then he stuffed the next three in the now-empty satchel and tried to carry the remaining two in his hands.

            It will have to do.

            Just before Leo started his trek again, his gaze wandered over to where the deer carcass had been.

            It was gone.

            Well, frik. Was that a random bear or did the wolf eat the whole thing? Or maybe it has wolf buddies?

            With a shake of his head and a brief shiver, Leo finally followed the water downstream again, continuing through the forest.

            As he walked, he took note of all the interesting wildlife around him.

            While it was almost all normal wildlife, that almost still left room for some fascinating creatures. None had the impact of the wolf, but a few seemed much more obviously abnormal. Leo briefly saw a white-furred weasel with six legs run into a bush, but when he went to investigate, he never found it. Later, he did find a small swarm of bees that were almost the size of his fist. Each looked like a normal bumblebee but for the size and a faint green haze around them. Leo didn’t go closer to investigate—they seemed as docile as normal bees, but dealing with a whole swarm if he did tick them off… It didn’t bear thinking about.

             And one bush had slightly glowing apples on it—the fact that they were on a bush and not a tree would have been a clue they were unusual even without the glowing part. Leo left them alone.

            Leo ate the two chunks of meat he was carrying as the morning stretched into afternoon. He passed two places where small streams connected, and by late afternoon, Leo was following a much larger stream, perhaps even a tiny river, through the forest. He saw fish in the water, and once what looked like a colorful snake.

            He was almost having a good time, in a tired sort of way, as the sun started to set on his second day in this new world, when a sense of unease overtook him. A faint smell of something rank and eldritch hit Leo, a smell like old blood and incense, as near as he could figure it.

            But there was something more to it than just the smell. A wrongness that he felt in his bones.

            Although Leo knew the smart thing to do would have been to keep going downstream, he couldn’t help it—the old monkey reflex had him determined to see what this terrible feeling was, to know and understand it.

            Leo glanced southward, away from the river. He couldn’t really see anything different at first, but then he noticed the lack of the ubiquitous birds.

            He cautiously made his way in that direction, trying his hardest to move quietly and stealthily. Although he heard himself step on dry leaves or a twig more than once, he figured he was doing an okay job.

            As Leo crept away from the river, the tranquil forest seemed to change to something slightly more sinister. The trees appeared more skeletal, and the branches had fewer leaves on them. He saw a few piles of old animal bones, half-gnawed. The air felt sickly, and he experienced something like the sensation of entering a hospital full of ill people.

            He stopped between two trees and saw that the forest was bisected by a huge ravine. He couldn’t make out the end of it in either direction. He estimated it was miles long. But it was only a couple hundred feet across.

            Leo carefully made his way closer through the trees and walked up behind one low-branched tree that partially leaned out over the ravine. The edge of the ravine was a harsh drop-off, and it looked like parts of it had collapsed. If Leo wasn’t careful, he could easily fall and slide into the ravine.

            He stayed away from the edge, fearful that it would crumble. But he could still see that the ravine went down miles, at least.

And across the chasm, a few feet below the opposite cliffside, he saw, well… It’s a bat-harpy, Leo. No way around it.

            Sunning itself on a ledge in the dying light of the day, barely below the lip of the opposite side of the chasm, was a woman with bat wings instead of arms, claws at the ends of the wings. Her legs ended in wicked raptor talons. She was naked but so covered in filth and… viscera… that even her human parts were utterly disgusting. As Leo watched, a small, whip-like tail reached out past her and picked her nose, flinging a booger into the chasm.

            The wrongness was intense in the area—and it all clearly emanated from the chasm. Leo backed away, his curiosity satisfied—he knew what the threat was, and like he had suspected, getting away as soon as possible was the best option. He stood once he was behind the tree at the edge of the cliff and prepared to return.

            About forty feet away, slightly deeper in the forest, was a small dragon. It was about eight feet long, with bronze scales and a horned plate on its head, almost like a triceratops plate but with the horns flaring backward for some reason. It had wings tucked down on its back, and its claws looked large enough to end Leo with a single swipe. Its tail was closer to that of a fish, with an upward and downward facing fin at the end, but it still looked quite thick and deadly.

And it was staring right at him.

            The tableau held for a few seconds, and then the dragon roared and charged.

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