Chapter 6: Chapter 6 – An Agreement Made, a Destination Set, and a Bit of Walking

Chapter 6 - An Agreement Made, a Destination Set, and a Bit of Walking

“Honestly, I was kind of hoping that you would know that,” I said with regret. “As it stands, you are my only data point,” I groaned inwardly. Only data point? Can you be any more awkward, there bud?

Jax's face contorted through several emotions in succession after I said that. After a moment, he looked as if he had finally arrived at his first question, but then instead he said, “Yer water’s boilin’.”

“Oh, right.” I retrieved a set of abandoned clothes I had found earlier, ripped them into long strips, and then I dropped them into the boiling pot. While I kept my hands busy, I began to talk. “I, uh… I only recently got my class, you see?” I glanced at him to see if he was following, but he gave no indication one way or the other. I continued, “I’m not exactly sure why I got the class I did or what it is supposed to be, but the spell that came with it is the one I used on you. Like I said, I had hoped that it would help.” I looked back at him again, “I suppose it must have.”

There was a moment of silence after that. Jax spent a few moments giving me a good look over, “Saft as y’are, I c’n see y’only new gettin’ yer class.” He grunted as he sat forward, “Tha way en yer spake like a poof, I c’n seein yer bein’ a lord, o’ summat? Mebbe some poofin’ rich trader’s lad?”

I frowned, “I’ll admit I am… ‘soft’ as you put it. I’ve never really needed to be in good shape. But I’m not a lord nor rich.” I considered his question further, “I read a lot, though. And I’ve been through college.”

His eye quirked, “College?”

“University? Formal education?”

He nodded, “Rich.”

“Actually, I have… less than no money,” I sighed. It was going to be very difficult to explain modern day Earth to this man. I had years of education, and I barely understood it. “But that is beside the point. What do you know about classes?”

“Some,” he replied vaguely. He considered my intent for a moment before continuing, “E’s said oneself gets th’ class ‘e’s destined fer. When ‘e’s ready fer et.” He gathered his thoughts for moment, “Ah danno ‘bout destiny. Ah’ll ah know es tha’ folk tend ta get wha’ they’s ‘spectin.”

“What they’re expecting?” I made eye contact briefly.

He nodded. “Aye. A farmer whelps farmers. A soldier whelps soldiers. A lord whelps arseholes,” he said with a cheeky grin. The sudden levity broke the tension between us, and we shared a quiet laugh. “So, wha’ were ye?”

How does one explain customer service tech support to a forest bandit? “Uh… something like a clerk,” then I elaborated, “but… I didn’t want to be that anymore.”

Comprehension dawned on his face then, “Ah, now ah see yer clear.” A corner of his mouth quirked up, “Ye wanted ta quest fer tha Words.” The way he pronounced it, it was clear there was some significance to what he had just said, but before I could question him, he continued, “lot o’ gold be fer tha takin’ in tha’… if yer good at et. So, then. Tell me ‘bout this class o’ yer own.”

I had fished the boiling cloth out of the water by this point and was walking towards him with the now steaming but sterile bandages. His question brought me up short.

“May I?” I gestured towards him with the bandages. He nodded and raised his arms to give me access.

As I wrapped the linens around his abdomen, I started, “The class is called ‘Lilim Trainer’.” His eyes narrowed at that, but I hurried on, “I’m not entirely sure what it’s for or what to do with it. But I did spend some time looking through some skills with the… uh…” I glanced at him, “Lady? Or whatever it is I have. All of the them, or the ones I’ve seen anyway, seem to be themed around temporarily making my… uh… ‘Lilim’ better in some way. Stronger. Faster. That kind of thing.”

His brow furrowed as he considered what I was saying, “Do ye mean… like a General?”

“Huh?”

He nodded sagely, “Aye, lad. Ah think ye’ve stumbled on some kind o’ Leadership class.”

I was not quite so sure about that, but it was close enough. “Do you know, I think your English is getting better. Your… uh… well, that is… I can understand you better now.”

“Now wha’…” he began, but then he started, and sat listening for a moment. Then he nodded, “Aye, et seems tha Lady agrees wit’ ye.”

“What was she saying? If you don’t mind me asking.”

He inhaled and looked away for a moment before saying, “I could nay make heads o’ et, at first. She said my… er…” he glanced at me, “well, you, I guess that would be now, had gifted me his own tongue.” He twirled his finger in the air, “Anglish, ah think?”

I was finishing up his wrapping at that point. Coming to the loose end of it, I did not know exactly how to fasten it so that it would not come loose, so I tied it into a rough square knot. “English is the word… though the people who first spoke it were called the Angles, as I recall,” my memory was hazy on that point. “That was a long time ago.”

Dusting my hands off, I stood. “Well, I think that’s that. I’ve done what I can for you.” Putting my hands to my hips, I surveyed the camp, “I suppose I ought to try to undo this Binding that I’ve put you in. Then we can go our separate ways.” Not too sure how to do that, though.

His eyes widened at that, and he started fluttering his hands at me, “Now now, wait a minute there, lad. Let’s no be hasty.”

“Surely you don’t want to be… I don’t know. Attached to me, do you?” I asked, frowning.

“Well, now, let’s consider the alternatives! What happens ta me if’n ya do? Do ah go back to bein’ a bandit? Cursed not to hear tha Lady’s voice ‘til the end o’ me days?” he questioned me.

“How would I know? I’ve only cast the spell once.” And the description is extremely vague.

“I, fer one, don’t want to chance ‘er!” He clambered to his feet, wincing a bit with pain. “If’n ye’ll have me, ah’ll be proud to be yer man!” He blinked, “Er… Lilim.” So saying, he thrust his hand forward, giving me a toothy grin.

I hesitated. There was still a lot left unsaid between us, and there was one question I needed to ask before I could agree. I looked up from his hand into his eyes and said, “What do you have to do to be labeled a ‘bandit’? ‘Cursed’, as you put it?”

He frowned as his hand drooped. Sighing, he said quietly, “Tha shart of et is… ye have ta murder summat. Fer what’s their own.” I had expected as much. “Bu’ et’s more complicated than tha.”

Of course, it was. Crossing my arms, I nodded, “I’m listening.”

His tale was your typical hard luck story. He had grown up in a large port city to the north of here called Grelinton. He did not know who his parents were, but he had been told that his mother had been a prostitute — a whore, in his own words — who had either given him up or died in child birth. Either way, he had never met her. As you might expect, he quickly fell in with a small gang of street rats who subsisted through pickpocketing and petty theft. Apparently, while that would get you labeled a thief by the local constabulary, it was not enough to be ‘cursed’. That condition, he explained, caused you to be stripped of your ability to gain in power through classes. Once that happened, you were either enslaved or hanged. In his case, he had accidentally ‘acquired’ something he should not have.

“It were a Gem o’ Power, yer see?” he continued. “Jus’ one o’fem, an’ a small one mind, is worth a gold piece. A lad can live a long time on one o’ them.” He shook his head sadly, “But I did nay know then. To steal a Gem o’ Power will curse ya sure. To be an Outlaw. From then, all can see what’cha done. An’ ah fled. The rest, ye c’n guess.”

I nodded my head slowly. Something did not quite add up though, “You said before that you thought I might be a priest of some kind? That I could lift your curse? Isn’t that something you could have looked into?”

He scoffed, “Aye, sure’n ah could. If’n ah were some lord’s whelp!” He chuckled, “Tha priests of the Lawmaiden are a bunch o’ flamin’ hard arses. Unless ye got enough coin clickin’ in yer pocket. Then, they’ll bend o’er fer ya sure. Fer a hundred gold, they’ll plead yer case to Ginna an’ suck yer cock besides.” He shook his head sadly, “A hundred gold. Nay, lad. Fer a rat like me? Better hanged.”

After he finished, I stood staring at him for a while. I absolutely did not trust this man not to slit my throat if he thought it would benefit him. I had no doubt that he probably was a victim of circumstance, as he claimed, but victims often became perpetrators. On the other hand, he had not made a move against me yet, and I could definitely use him.

He took a deep breath, “Look lad. I know you don’t want ta take tha hand o’ summat yer know was a bandit not an ‘ar ago. But if’n ye’ll have me, I’ll swear by tha’ light of Maeve, here and now, that as long as ye be given me a fair shake, I’ll be doin’ tha same fer ye. Or may she remove her blessed Hand from me ferever.”

I did not know what to make of that, exactly, but it sounded like an oath if I had ever heard one. “Alright, Mr. Jax.” I extended my hand, “Looks like you’ve got yourself a partner.”

Grinning fiercely, he gave my hand a vigorous shake, “Alright then, ya poof… er… Mr. Donum, sir. I am so bound!”

In fairly short order, we had gathered up everything that we could realistically carry with us. Jax had found a couple of carrying satchels, really just burlap sacks with an attached bit of a drawstring, and we packed all of the preserved meat I had found — pemmican, Jax called it. He also made sure to bring the ridiculous liquor I had found. “Fer rations, lad,” he winked. We also scrounged up a couple of bed rolls and a single change of clothes each. Lastly, I decided to grab a length of rope. My RPG instincts insisted on it.

Tapping my lip, I asked, “What about a fire starter kit, flint and steel? And water skins?”

Jax patted his pack, “Natch’rally.”

Nodding, I said, “Okay then. Is there anything else you can think of?”

Jax looked out into the surrounding wood and sighed. “We’re gonna need weapons, ah think.”

I shook my head, “I thought of that. But I couldn’t find any when I looked the place over. I think whatever you had must have been taken by… whomever it was that attacked you.”

“Soldiers. A hunting party from Bradfirth, from their’n colors, ‘less ah miss ma guess,” he supplied. I was about to ask for more details, but he frowned then and suddenly asked, “Now’s ah think on it, how’s it ye were free ‘n clear? Up ‘n about to nurse mine back to peak instead of taken by them from yonder town?”

I laughed, “I just got a bit lucky… or maybe unlucky, I guess.” He gave me a flat look. “I have a skill from… uh… from the Lady. It makes it so that people tend to overlook me if I’m holding still. I’m not very good at it, though.”

He considered me and what I had said for a long breath and then whispered, “Maeve shelters me yet.”

“Yeah… Anyway, we’ve got your dagger, and there’s plenty of broken spears around. That’s going to have to do it for now.”

He scoffed, “Scant lot that’ll do if we come up short.” He jerked his head toward the wood, “There’s beasties out there, lad. Sure, they’re most weak this close to tha road, but…” He sighed, “Ah just hope that luck o’ your’n holds fast.”

“You and your friends didn’t seem too concerned about them before,” I argued. “Back when you grabbed me from the road.”

He chuckled good naturedly, “Aye well, there were a dozen of us strong, then.” Then he grimaced, “Sorry ‘bout that, I am. Now. Still, though, with all them keys you was danglin’ about…” His eyes widened then and he shouted, “Swipe me mother’s face! Them keys!” and he shambled back to where the Bandit King had held his court.

“Uh… yeah… I think…” I trailed after him. “Jax, I don’t think those keys are going to do me any good any more.”

He scowled back at me as he walked away, “Them keys is worth a fortune, yer daft! We gotta find ‘em.”

My car keys are worth a fortune? I drove an old beat up Chevrolet Cavalier. It did not even have powered windows. And, slightly more importantly, unless I missed my guess, it was currently on an entirely different planet. I glanced up to the sky and quickly found the moon, still up in the morning light. Was it… slightly green? “Jax…” I called, following after him.

I found him tipping over the old King’s wicker throne. He had ransacked the place pretty thoroughly already. Or someone had.

“Shite lovin’ sons o’ the Golgothan!” Hey, I know that reference. Wait, why does he know that reference. “They’ve taken them!”

“Jax, calm down. Those were just the keys to my apart… uh… house and my c-carriage,” I explained.

He looked at me sharply, “Ye mean them wasn’t Dungeon keys?”

One of them did fit into my old gym locker. I had forgotten to return it. It certainly smelled like a dungeon. “No, not dungeon keys.” I blinked, “What do you mean by dungeon keys?”

He looked at me incredulously, “What be Dungeon keys, he says?” He looked to the side, “Well, ah don’t really know for sure, mind. But they’s worth fair gold a piece. To them what quest. They’s s’posed ter open the way to riches, if’n yer knows where ter look.” He nodded, “I figured it were odd a raggy begger had a whole ring of ‘em.” He considered me a moment, glancing down at my shoes and then at my belt. “Ah think I’ve the run o’ ye now. Yer a deposed lordling, ain’t ya?”

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“No, I’ve already said I’m not a lord,” I said, shaking my head.

“In exile then,” he gestured grandly. “Not a lord and yet he clutches keys to his house and carriage to his person like a lock from ‘is beloved’s hair. Ha!” He slapped his knee like he had solved a great riddle. “And they carried ‘em off like a great prize! He he… what fools, them!”

“Yeah, alright, Jax. Fine.” I did not really want to play the part of some deposed noble, but it might make explaining some of the gaps in my common knowledge easier. Unless it got me killed.

“’Tis a shame they got that artifact, too. We was sure we could get silver fer it, at least,” he sighed. “And here we be sittin’ with ar’ tits out without a bent copper between us.”

I blinked a few times. Jax, I decided, was an acquired taste — like half a box of chicken McNuggets left abandoned in an alley. “Uhm… Artifact, you say? Oh, you mean the wheel. I don’t…” but then I reconsidered. “Actually, there are four more of those on the side of the road a few hours from where you… captured me.” I was not above selling office chair wheels to someone who did not know any better. Especially, if it meant we could get a few meals out of it. Who knows? Maybe they are worth something around here. “Assuming that someone else hasn’t picked them up already.”

“Do ye speak it true, lad?” He frowned, “But why would ye leave ‘em there if’n they was your’n found?”

I sighed, “Well… I guess… I didn’t think it was worth it at the time. But if you think we can get some money for them…”

He nodded firmly, “Aye. That weren’t beaten metal, nay sure. No hand o’ kind made such as that.”

He was technically right, in a sense. How do they make those?

“Sounds like a plan. Let’s go get them.”

We were trekking through the forest, some hours later, headed back to the road. Jax had assured me we were taking a more direct route to approximately where my ‘crash site’ should be from what he could gather based on my description. So far, we had not run into any ‘beasties’ as he put it, a fact I was quite grateful for. The undergrowth was fairly sparse along our path. Jax had led us from one game trail to the next with calm assurance. He seemed to know these woods, the Allenwood he had said, quite well.

We walked in silence for the most part. Jax was afraid to attract too much attention out here, and I figured I would bow to experience. I had been trying to keep my eyes on a swivel, but of course, eventually, as nothing kept happening, my mind started to wander. I began to think about that last skill point I had left sitting there. Now that I had a ‘Lilim’ — I glanced over at the form of Jax some yards ahead — of a sort, it might be prudent to spend it on… something. The problem was, everything I had seen, or thought to ask about, had in some way led back to my companion. If I was going to be a ‘buffer’, then I needed to know what the most useful thing to buff was. I needed to know how Jax liked to fight.

“Jax,” I whispered.

He shushed me and looked around. Finally satisfied, he looked back at me, and spoke quietly, “What is it, lad?”

“Now that you’re not,” I gestured above his head, “cursed anymore. Do you happen to know what your class is?”

He looked surprised at my question. “Ah never had one before,” he admitted. “Been cursed me whole adult life.”

“Well… maybe you do now?” I hedged.

He grinned, “Ye may be right, laddie. Let me ask ‘er.”

So saying, he turned his head away, mumbling to himself quietly, and then began listening to words I could not hear. Then he scowled, “She be saying you gotta choose ‘er for me.”

“Why would it be up to me?”

“Yer the trainer ain’t ye?” he said sarcastically.

“Alright, alright. Let me see what I can find.” Watcher’s wayward seed… where do I even look? I barely thought about the foreign swearing.

“Uhm… character sheet,” I mumbled to myself. Let’s start there.

Ah, here we go. Glancing at the loyalty rating, I figured that ten percent roughly tracked to ‘uneasy partnership’ which was fairly accurate to our current situation. That’ll go up as we get to know each other, I’m sure. I lightly tapped the part asking me to choose his class.

Glad as I was to actually be getting one, it was not much of a list. Then again, what did I expect from a former bandit. Maybe, I would have to find some rare monster if I wanted something more interesting. That would be cool.

Looking Jax over, I definitely felt that he was better suited to being a Scout. He was wiry and seemed like the type. Plus, he already seemed to know a lot about woodcraft. My finger moved toward the Scout button, but then I hesitated. I should at least ask the guy.

“It… uh… She says that you can either be a Scout or a Warrior.”

He looked quite pleased at this, for some reason, “Do She really?” I nodded after he did not elaborate. “Do She say anything else?”

“Oh,” my eyebrows lifted in realization. So, I read out the class descriptions to him.

He frowned to himself as I finished, “She do talk ta ye awful funny like.”

“Really? How does She speak to you?” I inquired.

“Well, er… uh…” he gestured vaguely. Did he blush a bit there? “Do you know, never mind that. Tell me again wha’ She sayin’ about them two classes.”

Patiently, I read them once again, finishing, “Honestly, I would say that Scout probably fits you better. You already seem to fit the mold from what I’ve seen.”

He looked away and sighed, then said, “What ye say may be true. But when I were a wee lad, I always dreamed o’ bein’ a great knight. Wit’ a flashin’ sword ‘n all. An’ a great big horse that all tha ladies would fawn over. An’ now that I’m out from under tha’ bligh’ed curse…” he glanced at me, “well, maybe I be feelin’ like I’ve had enough o’ the woods.”

After listening to his rationale, I gave a light shrug. He might technically be my Lilim, but he was still a person. It was his class. If he wanted to be a Warrior, then that was perfectly fine with me. “Alright, sure Jax. Warrior it is then.” I looked at him to make sure. He had an expression on his face like a kid walking into a three-story toy store. Taking that as confirmation, I poked the option for Warrior.

My eyes skimmed past the class summary quickly. Oh, loyalty bump. Cool.

“Mate.” I looked up. “What do… tenebrous mean?” he seemed to struggle with the unfamiliar word.

I thought for a moment, “Uh… like concealed? Shadowy? That kind of thing? Why?”

He seemed confused, so he clarified, “Why then, do I be a Tenebrous Warrior?”

“Huh?” I looked again. Sure enough, I had missed the slight change in his class name. “Well, that’s odd,” I looked at him again. “I swear, Jax, it didn’t say that before I picked it.” I rubbed at my chin thoughtfully, “Maybe it has something to do with your past? Or the passive skills you already have? Maybe that made you specialize somehow?”

He gave that some thought. “I suppose that do make a bit o’ sense, now that you be sayin’ it.” He stuck his chest out. “A Shadow Warrior! I like it,” he decided.

Looking back at the pop-up, I reread what Jax would be getting as a part of his class. The stats looked fair, although I had no idea what good Charisma would do a Warrior. Must help with stealth somehow? Part of the whole shadowy theme? I shrugged, but then surreptitiously glanced at Jax's… unfortunate appearance. Some extra Charisma would do the poor guy some good, if I’m honest. Not that I would ever tell him that.

Curiously, I poked at the passive skill he had acquired.

Well… that is certainly… nice to have. It was certainly in line with the kinds of things you would expect to be able to do with a pet class. But in a real life scenario? If Jax were ‘destroyed’, where would he go? Revive at my location from where? Would his corpse just bampf from digesting in some monster’s gullet to my feet and then come back to life? What if he were incinerated? Ugh… This world makes my head spin.

Why do you do this to me? Jax has a brain. Let him make his own choices. I still had my own skill I needed to sort out.

“Okay, yes. Thank you.” Finally, this thing is working with me. “And it’s his not ‘its’.”

This menu was mocking me… although two easy loyalty bumps in a row was nice. Sighing, I closed out of all of the pop-ups and looked over at Jax. I could tell he was listening intently to some unheard voice. I would leave him to it. Thinking about what sort of skill would be best, I resolved to wait until Jax had finished. That way, I would have a better chance to pick something to cover a potential weakness our duo might have left open. Granted, ‘potential weakness’ might be a bit wide of a mark for two level one dudes walking through a forest full of ‘beasties’.

I am going to end up buying a healing skill, aren’t I?

Jax sighed. I knew that noise. “Is the Lady drowning you in choices?”

“Raaah… choosing to make me ownself stronger ‘n faster is right easy. But the skills, lad! How is a man supposed to pick from the skills?” he said in exasperation.

“Don’t I know it. Why do you think I let you pick it yourself. It… She was wanting me to do it for you, at first.”

“Oh, thanks fer that,” he said sarcastically. “Mmm… Let’s talk ‘n walk,” he said as he started ahead.

Despite saying so, we walked in silence for two or three minutes while he composed his thoughts. Then, “Do ye mind if’n ah pick yer mind a bit?”

“Go right ahead.”

He glanced at me. “The short of et, ya see,” he began, “be that ah don’t really even know where ta begin.” He gestured vaguely at the ground, “What makes a warrior a warrior. Ya know?”

“I guess… the ability to fight with a weapon? Like a sword or a spear or something like that,” I opined.

“Aye, ah know that, and ah tried it sure. But the Lady do say I already know how,” he said. “And ‘tis true. Ah do know me way about a blade here and there. But et’s all amateur stuff, ya follow? How’m I s’posed ta fight against a man trained?”

“That’s probably just a matter of experience.” He looked at me doubtfully. I shrugged, “I don’t know. Have you asked if there are any fighting styles you could pick up?”

His face brightened at my suggestion, “Could be a place ta start, sure.” And with that he went back to muttering to himself quietly.

I decided to go back to being the eyes and ears of the party for now, what with Jax being distracted and all. Of course, not being a trained woodsman, every snap of a stick and creak of a branch had me on edge. Working the tension out of my shoulders, I glanced up at the sun, or tried to. Through the canopy overhead, it was hard to get a read on exactly what time it was. Sometime past noon, I finally decided. One thing I did know for sure, these cheap work shoes of mine were not meant for forest hikes. My feet were killing me. And I was pretty sure I was developing a sore on my little toe.

“Jax, how much further to the road?” I whined.

“Hmm? Oh, uh… maybe nightfall, ah think. Look, dinnay bother me now.”

Having delivered his distracted reprimand, he returned to his private conversation.

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