Chapter 14: Chapter 10: Road-Trip

Chapter 10: Road-Trip

 

---

Our lord is out of sorts today. The Shailen stock has taken a hit, and we’re nearly depleted. A choicer gift is required to ease his fury, lest we all fall victim to his wrath.

---

 

“Well, that’s perfect! I was going to tell you, I was going there next week anyways, and I’ve been meaning to bring Ryan along,” Huck said, ladling soup into a bowl for Logan, who took it appreciatively and sat at the roughhewn wooden table in the middle of the room.

 

He pushed his toes into the fur carpet, wiggling them absently.

 

“Tarik,” Ryan said, mulling the word over appreciatively like a child beholds a new toy. “We’re really going?” he said.

 

“If the weather holds, which I ‘spect it will, yeah. There’s a lot to see and do there, and for a young man like you, a lot to learn,” Huck said, tussling Ryan’s hair and pushing his head around playfully.

 

There are vendors there, tradesmen, merchants, armorers; I should be able to clear my inventory at least. With luck I can find a good armorer and get some upgrades, Logan thought, thinking of his haphazard attempt at leather armor that he’d made from Brightspine boar hide and rabid rabbit pelt.

 

It didn’t exactly fit him, and even after only a few weeks the stitching was beginning to tear and fray. But even if they did find better armor and weaponry… would it be enough? There were no true swordsmen in the village, no soldiers, or mercenaries from which to learn, so his education in fighting was purely experiential, the result of his experimentation and instinct. He felt confident, however.

 

He woke early in the morning to train for an hour on his own, moving through forms and techniques that felt right to him, before leaving for the forest with Ryan. In the evenings he practiced calisthenics and meditation. This lifestyle wasn’t exactly new to him, but his habits were far more consistent now than they ever had been on Earth. There were few distractions in Woolam; it was a quiet town, centered around the mines where Huck worked, and the night life was nonexistent.

 

On top of all of that, what he did or failed to do on his own directly contributed to how effective he’d be in combat, and, he suspected, how fast he’d grow. What he wouldn’t give for a gym.

 

“Perhaps we could recruit help in Tarik? Are there any sell swords there, or adventurers, maybe?” Logan asked.

 

“There may be a few men willing to fight for coin, but no adventurers. There’s nothing to bring them this far south; the forest is mostly unexplored, I reckon the majority of ‘em would rather spend their time getting paid by more reliable means, and the Suko’s are too difficult to traverse to make the possibility of finding something there worth it,” Huck rubbed his chin.

 

“We could hire help, but from what you described of that beast we’re going after, they’ll probably turn tail and abandon us.”

 

Logan made a “humph” noise as he leaned forwards over the table and swirled his stew with the spoon.

 

“It’s worth a shot. If they run, they run, we have enough money to spare, and if this works then we’ll have more than we know what to do with,” he said, reviewing their plan in his head.

You are reading story Imprimis Son [A Fantasy LitRPG] at novel35.com

 

They’d decided to rely on Huck and Ryan’s startling proficiency with their bows, first trapping the llort in its cave with fire at the entrance, then immediately firing into the cave’s mouth with arrows while the llort, hopefully, was in a daze.

 

While they’d been crafting various ideas for killing the beast, Logan had looked into alternative uses for the items he’d accumulated from the forest hunts. He had found that the Steam Fish Blood, of which he had fifty vials, was incredibly hot to the touch, like a thick, sticky magma.

 

Touching it barehanded left vicious burns, and the substance clung to the skin like Smurf-themed Napalm. The testing that’d led to these discoveries had cost him several health potions and quite a bit of mocking from Mikey. In addition to the steam fish blood, they would use Paralytic Extract, a poison he’d occasionally looted from Rabid Rabbits, to coat their arrowheads.

 

Logan knew firsthand just how effective each of these substances were, as the memory of the burns and the ginger-like taste of the zatroot extract, the paralysis poison's only cure, were fresh in his mind.

 

With these pseudo-napalm arrows and the paralysis from the rabid rabbit poison, they hoped they’d be able to kill the llort from afar without risking a close quarters encounter. If they could recruit another archer or two and a scouting type, they’d be that much stronger for it.

 

Logan had spent the last three days since their return from the llort encounter training with a spare bow himself and had gained an archery skill for his efforts. He was nowhere near Ryan’s level, but he could shoot straight enough to be marginally useful and was confident that he could hit something as large as the towering llort that was their prey.

 

“Well,” Huck said, rising from the table, “I’ll have to ask the neighbors if they need anything before we go, and ol’ Gjorn for recommendations on where to get you suited up.”

 

He walked to the doorway then turned and smiled at Logan, noticing his brooding complexion and the atmosphere of worry about him. “Lighten up lad, this’ll be a fine adventure,” he said, turning and exiting through the door.

 

Logan reflected on the words. This is what he’d always wanted, and now he was getting cold feet?

 

We could all die, just like that, and It’d be over. This new life with all its potential snuffed out in a flash.

 

He pictured the llort, its towering shape, its muscled legs, arms, and chest, rippling with power and the promise of death. Its tusks, and the way it lifted and ate the deer right in front of them. The crunch of bone, the squelching and tearing of flesh between gnashing teeth, the blood streaking down its face and dripping from its chin. That could be them in a few days. He shuddered and felt Mikey’s attention on him.

 

The llort was the first real threat they would face, and it could go terribly wrong. It could end in disaster, but their plan was a good one. He trusted Ryan’s skill and Huck’s experience. If he backed down from the llort, he’d never be able to be the person he wanted to be, the person he sensed he had the potential to be in his new life.

 

He retired to his bedroom where he spent the next hour sorting through his inventory, separating items into those that he’d sell at the market in Tarik, and those he might find a use for elsewhere. Finally, he checked his status page.

---