Chapter 102: Chapter 92 – Water and food

“Oh fuck,” Charlie hissed as he toiled with the vine.

 

Placing it at the end of his splint, he pulled the vine tight before carefully balancing himself. If this worked, he was going to kick himself… well he would if his legs weren’t broken. It seemed since the natives had given him some of their magic to increase his life span, some of the magic was affecting his ability to heal. Or was it maybe that it increased his tolerance to pain?

 

Either way, it didn’t matter as he lifted his splint. On the end, he had placed a large wrap of the vine, and wrapped within this was the stinger of the scorpion. This made it so that he was able to both support himself and potentially use his arm as a weapon if he needed to. Using some wood found from the broken carriages, he had created a sort of shield on his arm. But this he had removed.

 

Today was the testing of armour. Dragging himself up to the hole on the other side of the cave, he sat on the edge and stared down into the abyss There was no doubt. He was terrified. Before he thought it may have been because it was dark the entrance to the next area looked so scary. Now though it seemed as if it hadn’t changed in the slightest.  

 

Using his splint, he returned to the small fire he had lit. A few embers still burned. Limping over to some of the wood from the wagon, he brought it back and some leftover pieces of wood. Placing said pieces carefully over the flames, he leant down and began to gently blow into the fire. This was just enough to cause the flames to jump up and begin to wrap themselves around the wood.

 

Once one of the logs was lit, Charlie lifted it and began to move swiftly over to the hole. Throwing the flaming torch over the edge, he leaned over to try and… it fell almost immediately onto the floor. Frowning, he looked down closer at the floor. It was black? Placing his good hand over his mouth he dragged himself back. Holy shit. The fire lighting this foul smudge gave off a vile but familiar scent.

 

The smell of goblin blood.

 

“Oh yeah, when this was where those goblins who came to attack my town came from. But it seems some… visitors have met them before I could,” the ever-watching Wrench yelled from the safety above. Chills ran down Charlie’s spine as he leaned over and grabbed the flaming torch. Lifting it, he pulled his arm back and threw it further.

 

It clattered to the centre of the room. Lighting the walls, he watched as several smaller scorpions all scattered from the flames. Even here at the centre, it was covered by the black blood of the goblins. How many had been killed here? And where were the bodies? The bodies back in his part of the cave looked to be bigger, suggesting they were human.

 

Taking into account the wagons and carriages it means they probably were humans. So maybe they were attacked and eaten by Goblins, and maybe the scorpions and whatever was deeper in the cave ate the goblins? Considering he was yet to see more scorpions or said monster, it begged the question of how many more caves there were.

 

Limping back, he retrieved another bit of flaming wood. Moving back, he threw the flaming torch into the cave. This time he aimed for the right side. It wasn’t much, but the light was able to illuminate the right side just enough for him to see another small path. Again, he dragged himself back before grabbing another flaming piece of wood.

 

Taking it back he threw it into the left side. Sitting still, he watched as the rest of the far smaller scorpions turned and scuttled away into a darker part of this area. Feeling sweat dripping down the side of his head, Charlie sat down and allowed himself to rest. Thanks to the healing factor of the native’s magic, his legs were still broken and there was still a large amount of pain. But overall, it seemed to be dulling. Looking back to the pile of scales and bones of last night's dinner, he knew he was going to have to kill more scorpions if he was to survive.

 

Taking note that the scorpions went towards the other end of the cave, he limped back and got the last of the flaming torches. Once back at the opening, he began to move inside. Using his good arm to hold the torch, he sued the other with the support of the splint to drag himself around. With the help of the scorpion’s stinger, it was easier to help drag himself.

 

It acted like an ice pick used for a northern Realm explorer. As he moved around, he cares to use the torch to light the path and warn him of any potential threats. The odd scuttle to his left, or up the wall to the right sent shivers down his spine. Several times he almost fell onto his side from the sounds of water dripping onto the ground.

 

Water.

 

Raising the touch high, he began to look around for the source of the water. His parched throat and shattered min drove him to ignore the pain as he limped faster and faster, each time the sound of the dripping water drawing closer. Seeing the torch, he had thrown near the right side of the cave, he saw the small side room.

 

Sitting still, he listened quietly to the sounds of running water. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he felt a flicker of hope in his heart as he began to push himself towards the sound. Reaching the inside, he collapsed upon seeing the sprouts of small ponds. Moving closer he examined the water.

 

His heart and throat begged him to drink, yet the mud that mixed with the water halted him. Muttering, he began to debate. Drink dirty water and risk getting ill and considering where he was that would probably mean death, or on the other hand die of thirst. Wait, but the sounds of dripping water. Looking around, his eyes scanned the dimly lit side cave.

 

There it was! Just above him. Dragging himself over, he sat under a small gap. Here he parted his lips and turned his head upwards. Closing his eyes, he waited. A few seconds passed, but then the first drop of relatively clean water fell into his mouth. Gasping, he smiled as he sat patiently.

 

Every minute or so, the water would drop down onto his tongue. Helping him to survive for just a little longer in these harsh conditions. For so long he sat, he had lost count of time around him. But he had managed to create an average drop per minute. With this in mind, he dragged himself away from the water. Moving back to the second cave, he began to take himself toward the first section.

 

Looking at the shattered wagons and carriages, Charlie came began to think.

 

“To be a good commander, you must be able to adapt to any environment,” Wrench’s voice echoed. As if he had already predicted what Charlie was planning. Staring at the barrels, Charlie began to drag himself forward. Stopping by one of the wagons, He took several pieces of wood and began to strap them to his legs. It wasn’t much, but it would at least allow him to drag himself a little easier.

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After this, he moved himself over to a barrel. Taking the first barrel, he turned it over and began to look it over. There were several large holes dotted around the sides and bottom of the barrel. Useless. Moving on, he again began to move. There was no telling how long he was going to be down here, so he needed to have some means of long-term survival. Well, more like longish considering there was no telling if he was to either find a way out or die before that. As he moved around, he found a pot.

 

It was small and of dark iron. It stood nowhere near the same size as the barrel, but it at least had no wholes. Looking inside the pot, he saw it to be relatively clean and decided this was probably the best choice. Placing the pot onto its side he began to gently roll it as he migrated back towards the entrance. Slipping inside, he began to move towards where he had seen the dripping water.

 

Stopping, he sat and allowed his eyes to adjust as he waited for the next droplet to fall. As he sat, he became fixated on the ceiling. Beneath the black pools of water behind him, bubbles began to rise. They reached the surface, before popping quietly. Still, he did not notice as his armoured arm stayed close to the water as he allowed himself to lean on it.

 

Ripples caressed the surface as a small, matted with mud bone finger reached out. A drop of water fell from the crack above and down into the metal pot. Charlie’s eyes followed the drop as it fell. As it landed in the pot, his eyes saw the reflection on the pot. Adrenaline flooded through him as he whipped around. The scorpion claw he had attached caught the finger.

 

Fumbling, he pivoted as fast as he could with his good arm. Frantically he slashed behind him, his eyes darting around for the hand. Sitting back, trembles flooded his spine as he looked down to see the hand slowly emerging more from the water. The index finger was gone, slashed off by the scorpion stinger attached to Charlie’s cast.

 

Looking at the scorpion pincer, he smiled and began to mutter thanks to his past self for making this decision. Still, as a statue, he watched in morbid silence as the arm emerged from the water. The only thing that could be heard was the dripping of the water behind him. The dripping of the water hammered his ears as he stared at the emerging arm.

 

But then it stopped. Leaning down, the arm prodded and touched around the area. What remained of the fingers prodded and poked around where Charlie had sat. What was this? The hand soon retracted, returning to the depths. But as it fell, Charlie saw a shadow within the water. At first, it looked to be that of a large fish. No. Here? And what of the arm?

 

Looking at the pot of water, began to think he may have swallowed something that had made him have illusions. Looking back to the water he stared for a while, not knowing what cause of action was best to take in this kind of situation. Inching closer, he made sure he had enough room to swipe if the creature came back.

 

Staring down into the water, he reached back with his good hand and fumbled about for a stone. Taking a stone, he dropped it into the water. Slowly it glided down, the torch light highlighting it as it sank. Like the creature before, it just vanished into the darkness below. Despite it being such a small hole (maybe five by five meters at most), it seemed to be so much deeper than he had originally imagined.

 

Sitting back and staring, he waited for some time longer. He did not know how long time had passed, but the metal pot had almost filled halfway with water. Within a flash, a large fish rose from the water and devoured the stone, before again sinking to the bottom. From its head arose a long, bone arm, the hand of which had one figure missing.

 

Sitting back, Charlie began to paint. What the fuck was this? And more importantly, could he eat it?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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