Chapter 57: 54. The Nature of Wood

I wipe my eyes, stretch my arms out and embrace the sun's warmth. I didn't realize how much I missed being outside. It's not that I hated the dark. On the contrary, I appreciate the gloominess of a dark room. I think it comes down to balance. After so long in the dark, it is only right to want to see the sun again, as fickle as the bright glowing orb is. 

Soaking in the moment, I let my outstretched arms fall into stretching positions. I go through as many stretches as possible, taking proper care of my body and once again prolonging my journey.

There is a good chance the stretches aren't necessary. My body essence is high enough that I should naturally keep my physical form in top condition. On top of that, my body reforgement should enhance my healing and durability. Gene even went so far as to say that reforged bodies could regrow a limb. Nevertheless, stretching, pointless or not, still feels incredible. It just so happens that stretching leads right into weapon drills.

First is the sword. Drawing on the steel blades from the quiver sheath, I begin to let the familiar movements take over as I transition from form to form. At the climax of the motions, I swing the blade with all my force at the thick tree to my left, stopping the edge right as it touches the bark. 

Bo practice isn't as graceful as my stabbing routine. The staff transitions are not precise and a bit clunky at times. Still, it is a vast improvement from when I first laid hands on the multifunctional weapon. I'm ashamed to admit that I only now discovered the staff will work wonders as a glorified walking stick. 

"I wonder what the original walking stick would say about you straight staff. I'm willing to bet it isn't impressed. Probably muttering something elitist about a stick being formed into a perfect walking stick is nowhere close to a stick naturally being a perfect walking stick."

I let my thoughts wander as I walk to the nearby stream and strip down. I take large gulps of the clear water before plunging into the shallow stream. I roll and scrub my body clean of the weeks of filth and grime. Fortunately, only half of the company I was in front of could actually smell. As far as I know, sniffing isn't spiders' and dragons' strongest trait. 

"Well, it might have a point. Who's to say what's better? And why does one stick have to be better than another? Can't they both be equally great? Hmm…probably not in the world of walking sticks. There will always be the number one stick, and it will let all other sticks know how inferior they are. It is the prestigious nature of sticks to stick other sticks in their place. 

"Glad I'm not a part of that crowd. Stiff competition to be number one. That's not me. Nope once on top, you can only go down. And that's what Bones doesn't know. You are only the boss until a bigger boss comes along. And just like superior walking sticks, another bossier boss will always come around. If you aren't ever boss, you can't be out bossed. Of course, that does mean you might have to take the occasional order from the ultimate boss. 

"Still, knowing you are going to take orders is better than thinking you are the one giving orders only to be ordered by a superior giver of orders." 

I finish washing my body and take a moment to let the waters flow past me. For a moment, I stop monologuing and soak in the chill-inducing stream. My tense muscles relax, becoming one with the flow. I'd almost think I was floating if jagged rocks weren't sticking into my back. It is the perfect end to the perfect day. Plan Sleep and Slay, so far, is off to an astounding start.

"Yup, walking sticks have got it rough..."

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I am about to clean my crude clothing when I think wiser thoughts. I do wash my luxurious briefs that are still holding up like a champion. The rest of my clothes dissolve. I focus intently on the new clothes I want to form around my body and summon hide to the design. 

The first try is too stiff, the same with the second and third. The sleeves give me the biggest hassle. On my fourth attempt, I mix in magic cord and omit the sleeves. This results in my best set of hide clothing yet.

The pants cover my legs forming around the shape without being too tight or restrictive while not being too baggy to give the appearance of a vagabond. The vest shirt fits similarly, fitting how I think a vest shirt should. The dark fur attire is completed with newly created moccasins, Gloom, and the combo quiver. 

Since no one is around to say otherwise…." I look good. Long hair? Check. Beard? Check. Moccasins and fur? Check. Walking stick? Got it. Magic quiver sheath equipped over the dark cloak? Yup. Just your typical neck of the woods woodsman, if anyone is asking."

About two hours have gone by since I got out of bed. I'm not feeling hungry and decide to continue on my conquest to clear my lands. So far, I'm doing a terrible job. The decision to not kill the invaders on the mountain top was contrary to my objectives. "Who knows? Maybe it will sort itself out in the end."

Instead of walking in shadow, I give myself more time in the sun. Even going so far as actively picking the paths with less tree coverage. My glorified walking stick somehow makes the monotonous expedition somewhat less tedious. In fact, I can't even think of a complaint. Which in a way makes the walking slightly more miserable. "Walking is only useful if you can complain." I smile and, for whatever reason, begin whistling to a tune I do not know.

As I whistle while I walk, I take the occasional break to sense any hostile forces. I look for tracks or any signs of their presence. Even though I'm alone at the moment, it is clear members of the horde have been here. One distinct set of tracks leads northwest. On a whim, I follow it. 

When opportunity permits along the tracks, I harvest any edible food source I find. So far, it has been berries, weeds, and some roots that I dig up. The cloak's herb pouch is very convenient. The tracking, if nothing else, has been a productive harvest. Though if I am being honest with myself, which I always am, this isn't the feasting I had in mind when I left the Shadow Lair.

After another hour of walking in the scattered sunshine amidst the forest, I come across a path more worn than the one I am following. Sensing that I am getting close, I step into my shadow realm and follow the new path leading more north towards the mountains.

I come across a camp not long after following the path. The camp has a timber wall, about seven feet in height. Four wooden towers are erected along the border, each with one goblin standing guard. Eight tents large enough to house at least eight goblins and a larger, more glamorous tent form a circle inside the wall and towers. 

In the middle of the tent circle, more goblins are attending to a fire cooking what looks like a wild hog. Several goblins are walking about tending to their own tasks.

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