Stripe ran.
Branches whipped across his arms and face as he crashed through the undergrowth.
Behind him boots thundered through the forest.
BANDIT: He went this way.
BANDIT: Don't lose him.
STRIPE: Yeah that seems fair.
CROWN: Multiple hostiles pursuing. Estimated Levels three through five.
STRIPE: Love that for me.
His lungs burned almost immediately.
This body might have been new, but it was still Level 2.
The bandits were faster and obviously stronger.
And they had weapons.
STRIPE: You got any helpful advice.
CROWN: Continue running.
STRIPE: Bold strategy.
A crossbow bolt tore past his shoulder and slammed into a tree ahead of him.
STRIPE: Did you see how I dodged that Matrix style.
CROWN: Projectile velocity suggests another shot imminent.
STRIPE: No shit.
He cut sharply downhill.
Loose dirt slid beneath his feet as he half ran, half fell down the slope.
At the bottom of the slope was a small overhang where Stripe pressed his body against the underside.
Behind him someone shouted.
BANDIT: Split up.
CROWN: Survival percentile falling rapidly.
STRIPE: I'm open to suggestions.
CROWN: Host survival probability currently eighteen percent.
CROWN: Maintain position until threat leaves immediate vicinity.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
STRIPE: That's not the encouraging number you think it is.
CROWN: Suggested wait time is thirty seconds.
STRIPE: What then.
CROWN: Disengage from threat area and arm yourself.
STRIPE: With what. A fucking tree branch or fecal matter. That won't work twice.
CROWN: Greg the bandit's body has sufficient weapons and armor to slightly increase survivability. Suggested that host return and secure gear.
STRIPE: That's gross. But fuck it.
CROWN: Thirty seconds has elapsed.
Stripe took off running up the hill back to where he came.
Greg's body lay in a small pool of blood with flies biting at it.
STRIPE: That's disgusting.
CROWN: Bandit threats are circling back and will arrive shortly.
Stripe quickly grabbed a dagger off Greg's body and ran to the opposite side this time.
He burst through a wall of brush and stumbled into a shallow stream.
Cold water splashed up his legs.
For a moment he considered stopping.
Instead he crossed the stream and kept moving.
CROWN: Scent disruption achieved.
CROWN: Warning. New threats detected.
STRIPE: That sounds promising.
Stripe slowly raised his head.
At the end of the stream stood two of those giant wolves.
They growled, eyeing Stripe.
Then their eyes fell on the pelt around his waist.
Without hesitation they began running through the stream toward him.
CROWN: Mating pheromones detected. Rival male species enraged by scent.
STRIPE: Of course they are. I swear the goddess planned this.
He staggered up the opposite bank and grabbed the first tree he could reach.
The bark scraped his palms as he hauled himself upward.
STRIPE: Up we go.
CROWN: Elevated position may reduce detection probability.
STRIPE: Finally something helpful.
He pulled himself onto a thick branch about fifteen feet above the ground.
His chest heaved as he tried to control his breathing.
Below him the forest settled into silence.
For a moment.
Then branches snapped nearby.
Three bandits pushed into the clearing.
BANDIT: He crossed the stream.
BANDIT: Spread out.
Stripe froze against the trunk.
One of them walked directly beneath his tree.
BANDIT: He couldn't have gotten far.
The man looked around slowly.
Then down at the riverbank.
BANDIT: What the hell happened here.
Another bandit crouched beside the water.
BANDIT: Fish.
Dead fish floated slowly in the current.
The man picked one up.
BANDIT: Why are these dead.
Stripe stared down silently.
STRIPE: That might be my fault.
CROWN: Correct.
The bandit dropped the fish.
BANDIT: Poison.
BANDIT: Maybe.
The third bandit stepped forward.
He was bigger than the others.
Older.
A scar across his jaw.
BANDIT LEADER: Doesn't matter.
His eyes moved slowly across the trees.
BANDIT LEADER: I can smell him. He's near.
They stopped.
Right on Stripe.
BANDIT LEADER: I know you're up there.
Stripe didn't move.
He slowly lifted his arm and sniffed his armpit, then quickly covered his nose.
The leader rested his sword against his shoulder.
BANDIT LEADER: You climb down now.
He smiled.
BANDIT LEADER: And maybe I kill you quick.
Stripe exhaled slowly.
STRIPE: Or you come up here and we build a tree house.
The leaders smile vanished.
BANDIT LEADER: Shoot him down.
Snarling could be heard.
┌──────────────────────────────────┐
STATUS
└──────────────────────────────────┘
Name: Stripe
Level: 2
Class: Unassigned
Title: Toxic Fisherman
HP: 110 / 110
Stamina: 102 / 105
Mana: 0 / 0
━━━━━━━━━━ Attributes ━━━━━━━━━━
Strength 6
Agility 7
Endurance 6
Intelligence 5
━━━━━━━━━━━━ Skills ━━━━━━━━━━━━
Hand-to-Hand Combat Basic Retention
Improvised Weapon Handling Beginner
Survival Novice
Minor Poison Secretion Passive
━━━━━━━━━━ Artifact ━━━━━━━━━━━
Crown of Reflection
━━━━━━━━━━ System Effects ━━━━━━
Alcohol Intoxication Immunity
Experience Calculation
