When Larkin awoke, he was completely awake. There was no drowsiness; no lingering wisps of dreams intruding on his thoughts. He was fully aware of his surroundings as he sat up and he didn’t even feel the need to yawn.
I could get used to this, he thought, imagining that this was another clear benefit of his Class.
Probably Fighter, he guessed, since that seems the only one that actually does anything.
He knew that wasn’t fair, but pushed that awareness to one side as he got dressed and pushed the wooden shutters away from the windows. The rolling hills that he saw outside were dark, the fingers of the sun just beginning to emerge at this hour.
Rising at dawn was certainly not something that Larkin was used to doing, either.
From the soft sounds of people moving about downstairs, he imagined that the household were early starters themselves. Though when he went down to the dining room from last night there was no sign of Krystan or Squrl, and he got some surprised looks from the people at work.
So maybe it was just a servant thing.
Still, he was quickly presented with a bowl of porridge, as well as thick slices of bread with cheese and ham. He tucked in happily, doing his best not to think of the wary eyes of the servants.
Not sure I’m liking this impression of Classbearers I’m getting, he admitted to himself. The level of caution around him would suggest that they were temperamental, and happy to punch downwards.
He wondered what recompense normal people could call on if something like that happened, too. It wasn’t as though he’d seen any police or anything while he was walking.
Although I’m guessing this is the backend of nowhere…
The food was accompanied by a jug of water and a cup half filled with a straw-colour liquid. But Larkin took one sniff of it and grimaced as he smelt the distinctive fizz of beer. He asked one of the servants for a clean cup and had the water on its own.
When he finished eating he rose to stare out of the large windows into the garden and courtyard beyond. He spied a group of Humans entering the grounds, a familiar burden carried between them.
What are they doing with that monster? He wondered, watching as the group took their gruesome burden over to a wooden building off to one side of the grounds.
At that point, his host appeared.
“Good morning, Sir Larkin.” Krystan said, sounding a little surprised. “You’re eager to be off, then?”
It was more that his body had shown no sign of wanting to go back to sleep, but Larkin just nodded.
“All the quicker to get that letter delivered.” He said, nodding to the large envelope that the Avorean was holding.
And Krystan put it gently on the table where Larkin’s breakfast had been.
“I wrote it last night.” The Avorean told him. “Though, truly, just reminding Lyzkel to get in contact would be good. I’m sure there’s nothing else to worry about.”
Larkin nodded absently, as he put the envelope into his bag. He just hoped that this Lyzkel wouldn’t mind her mail being a little crumpled, as the bag was pretty full as it was.
“It’s all these rumours from Haugar that makes me nervous.” Kyrstan continued.
Larkin glanced up.
“What news?” He asked.
The Avorean gave him a surprised look.
“Oh, my apologies, from your accent I assumed that you had come from the capital.” Krystan said. “My daughter’s been keeping me informed; there’s some kind of hustle and bustle happening in the palace.”
“Certain… familiar faces returning.” He added, sounding grim. “Some big announcement is coming, I guess.”
As soon as he heard that, Larkin just knew that it was to do with the five that Soas was taking there. But he said none of this to Krystan, who kept talking. Clearly unburdening himself of some stress.
“The whole Advisory Council has been called to Haugar.” He explained. “And Prince Otto’s returned from whatever he was doing near the border with the Grand Duchy. Even the leaders of the Unified Temples have been asked to attend.”
The Avorean shook his feathered head.
“Some of my more optimistic younger colleagues - former colleagues, I should say - are bringing their usual sunny dreams to bear. But I suspect it’s not quite as positive as they might hope for…”
Larkin didn’t have anything to add to that, and soon enough he was being led out of the house by his host. It was only as he stepped foot in the front garden that he heard the pitter patter of feathered feet.
“Larkin, Larkin. Are you leaving already!?”
Larkin fought back a grin at the horrified expression on Squrl’s face. Who knew a bird boy could be so expressive?
“Afraid so.” He told the boy, aiming for avuncular. “Make sure to stay away from monsters, now.”
Larkin didn’t like it when people made a big show of farewells, so he nodded to both Avoreans and then spun on his heels and headed off to the trail. Squrl shouted a farewell and he raised a hand acknowledgement but he didn’t look back.
The sun was coming over the hills now, so Larkin found himself bathed in its gentle warmth as he moved down the trail. There was the occasional gust of wind, too, so it was pretty comfortable. And, after about a mile or so, the trail reached the end of the hills and he was able to walk on an even footing for the rest of the morning.
Larkin definitely wasn’t the sort of person that went on walks, let alone hikes, back home. But - thanks to the Fighter Class - he found it all pretty easy going. The discomfort of his ankles was no longer a problem for him.
He reached a larger group of trees, possibly the start of some wood, that the trail seemed to run around. So he took the time to stop for a moment to munch through another of his granola bars.
He still felt a little hungry afterwards, and considered eating another. But ultimately he settled for another mouthful of water, as he didn’t know how long the remaining bars would have to last him for.
And so as he slung his backpack over his shoulders, actually feeling relaxed and calm, that was naturally when the ambush was sprung.
The first warning he had was a sharp crack of a branch breaking nearby. And, as he spun around towards it, something clipped off against his forehead. The impact was more surprising than painful, and a quick glance down showed that it was a regular stone.
But Larkin didn’t have time to reflect on that as a figure burst out from the trees, closely followed by a second. They were Goblins, though somehow even more poorly equipped than the one from the previous day.
The foremost one was carrying a crude spear in both hands, and the other one seemed to only have a club.
By this time Larkin had his sword in hand, thanks to his Fighter Class, and he found himself moving even as the Goblins closed in on him.
The first foe swung the spear at his head, using the weapon more like a large club than anything else. Larkin moved to his right, to the outer limit of the spear’s swing, and took the reduced impact of the blow on his braced upper arm.
Which left his right arm free to flick out almost quicker than he could follow it, going in and out of the Goblin’s exposed neck. And Larkin was spinning around even as the first attacker collapsed with blood splurging out from severed arteries.
The second Goblin, wide eyed, also swung his club at him, and Larkin just rocked back on his heels - letting the weapon swish past him. Then his sword flickered out in reply and the creature choked on blood as it fell to the floor.
Larkin paused then, eyes on the treeline. He remembered the stone that had been launched at him, and thought he heard sounds coming from the woods. But after several long moments of no attack he decided that he’d either imagined it or the third Goblin had sensibly retreated.
He flicked his sword to get most of the blood off the blade, and then knelt to wipe the blood on the grass. In the process, he remembered that he hadn’t properly cleaned the weapon after the Irontooth and frowned at some dried flecks on the iron.
Lack of care would lead to rust, which would ruin the weapon. And, after his Fighter Class, the crude sword was his best means of survival out here. For the time being, anyway.
Larkin knelt next to one of the goblin’s bodies and gave the blade a more thorough cleansing on the rough jerkin that the creature wore. It was only as he sheathed the weapon that he really took in what had happened.
Almost died again, he thought.
Sure, the Goblins had proved ridiculously easy to kill thanks to his Fighter Class, but that might not have been the case if that first attack had actually succeeded in stunning him.
And that strange Null Mage ability didn’t trigger this time, he thought with a slight frown as he glanced down at the offending stone.
But it also came home to him, however belatedly, that he’d just killed two creatures. Ones that he knew could talk and reason.
Yes, they’d been trying to kill me, but…
It wasn’t any particular sense of guilt that worried him, he thought. It was more that his body had acted almost without him being aware of it.
Was that the Calm Mind Skill? Or was it perhaps his Fighter Class?
Does Patricia have some Skill like that too? The worry crept smoothly into his thoughts. Something that allows her to kill people and take enjoyment from it?
Anyway, enough of that, he decided after a few seconds.
This was a totally different scenario from the murders of those three guys in the carpark that he’d witnessed - he’d been defending himself from creatures that had been trying to kill him, after all.
Neither of said Ghryzans were carrying anything useful. His sword, bad as it was, was clearly better than the club. And the spear looked like it would as likely fall apart as impale anything.
Larkin had no inclination to bury their bodies, either, so he was soon back on the trail.
He did wonder about meeting more of the Ghryzan though, as Squrl had implied that the Goblins would know better than to enter into lands that were occupied and defended by Humans. Perhaps this was the same thing as with the monsters, something more dangerous was driving them this way?
That was a concerning thought. Especially for those that weren’t Classbearers.
Larkin was actively keeping an eye out now, especially on the woods, but didn’t see anything of concern. Whether that was because there wasn’t anything out there or he just didn’t know what to look for, he had no idea.
Fortunately, though, after twisting around the edge of the woods, the trail led to a small village; just a little off from the tree line.
There were just over a dozen buildings, each made of wood and with thatched roofs. They weren’t exactly fine houses, but neither were they the hovels that he’d half-expected.
Larkin also saw - and heard - some children running about, and the more distant group of men wandering around cultivated fields.
As he drew closer to the village, he saw a few young children running about, but no one else. The kids set up a babble of intrigued shouts when they saw him coming, and a number of women emerged from the cottages.
He was peered at warily, and Larkin felt that he might have frozen with self-consciousness if not for the Calm Mind Skill.
Instead, he walked toward the first pair of women closest to him. It looked like a mother and daughter - the older woman could be in her late forties and the younger in her early twenties. The younger woman was also clutching a baby to her chest.
I really have no idea on their age, though, he admitted to himself. I’m bad at judging ages at the best of times, and I’m guessing they didn’t have any makeup in a rural setting like this.
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Setting such thoughts aside, he cleared his throat.
“Hello.” He greeted them, in the Calilean that he’d heard the kids use.
The younger woman just clutched her baby closer but the older woman nodded courteously to him.
“Good morning, traveller.” She replied.
Larkin noticed that she had a strangely gravelly way of speaking, similar to the kids. While Kyrstan and Squrl had spoken in a more mellow tone.
Some sort of accent, he figured. Though it did make him wonder what accent he had.
Kyrstan said something to me about that, he recalled. An accent, but not one that sounded alien to him. Clearly another effect of one of my Skills.
He pushed that errant thought aside and responded to the woman.
“I just wanted to say that I killed a couple of Goblins an hour or so down the trail.”
Upon hearing his words, the younger woman’s eyes got wider but the older one remained expressionless.
“There may have been another one.” Larkin added. “But it ran further into the woods.”
He hesitated a moment, temporarily stumped by the lack of response.
“You may want to be careful if you go there.” He added, gesturing again behind him. “The Goblins may have been pushed out of their territories by some new monsters.”
He again hesitated, watching the younger woman glancing nervously at the older one. But when his response was forthcoming he gave them an awkward nod.
“Just thought I’d let you know.” He told them. “Have a good day.”
He noticed a surprised expression flicker across the older woman’s face as he turned and started further along the trail. After a few seconds she called out to him.
“Good day to you, traveller.”
Larkin glanced over his shoulder, and gave a weak wave as he kept walking. He couldn’t help but compare the cautious looks of the villagers with the wary expression that Krystan had initially had towards him.
He figured that armed strangers would be viewed with suspicion back home, too. But maybe there was the additional risk posed by the lack of any police - at least so far as he’d seen.
Larkin vaguely thought that law enforcement back home had only been around a couple of centuries. Before them, there must have been something. But he certainly hadn’t seen any patrols by soldiers or anything over the last couple of days.
The villages seemed to be closer together now that the land was flatter. He passed through another three in the course of a couple of hours after the first, and each time stopped to tell them about the Goblins.
He stopped for a quick lunch, helping himself to a granola bar. And then set off again, and at the very next village some of the locals approached him.
Larkin had only just come in sight of the cottages when he was spotted by a group of gathered villagers, who started moving towards him even as he approached them.
“Greetings, traveller.” Their leader, a large man, called. He was straight backed and looked strong even though there was plenty of grey in his hair.
“Afternoon.” Larkin responded, coming to a stop as the group blocked his way.
“You should be careful on the road.” The villager continued. “We’ve just heard that there’s something in the woods.”
He gestured off to Larkin’s left, where another large group of trees started. It was a good five hundred metres away though, so Larkin raised an eyebrow.
“I wasn’t planning to go inside.” He told the man.
As he did so, he was trying to covertly scan the group. There was a familiar weariness in their postures, but for once it didn’t seem directed towards him.
“A monster came out earlier and attacked a pedlar.” The spokesman for the villagers told him.
Larkin groaned.
“Are they okay?” He asked.
The question seemed to momentarily surprise the man, before he gave a nod.
“Oh, Blyth is fine; it gave him a shock though. And the damn beast devoured all his goods.”
Perhaps seeing Larkin’s expression, the big man added.
“He was bringing beer and cheese from some nearby farms.”
That sounded an odd combination to Larkin’s ears, but he gave a mental shrug - what did he know? A more relevant thought also occurred to him though.
“And the monster went back into the woods?” He asked.
The man nodded.
“Aye, but since it’s fed recently it shouldn’t be a threat right now. We’ve sent a messenger off to the Guild.”
But Larkin just shook his head.
“No, I meant that if it’s in the woods, I’ll go and kill it.”
That comment got the attention of the group, and he felt them taking in his lack of armour and his single, relatively small and obviously crude, weapon.
“Are you a… a Classbearer?” The man asked.
At Larkin’s nod, the man’s brows drew down and the others showed they weren’t actually dumb and started excitedly chatting to each other. Larkin was glad to see that this overpowered the sudden wariness amongst the spokesman.
“...So, this monster?” Larkin prodded after a moment.
The man made a sharp gesture to the others, and they reluctantly quieted down.
“As I said, sir, it’s in the woods.” The big man told him, his manner now more deferential. “I can guide you towards it.”
That got more chatter from the others, but the man shook them all off with practiced ease and was soon leading Larkin to the treeline. And Larkin was hardly going to turn down the help; he didn’t think this monster would be as easy to track as the others.
“I’m Larkin.” He told the older man as they walked. “Pleased to meet you.”
That pleasantry got him a brief surprised look before the villager responded.
“Horg.” He replied.
But, away from the villagers, Horg seemed less talkative so Larkin just watched the approaching trees. He didn’t see any sign of a lurking monster, but that didn’t mean much.
After some further checking, they found where the monster had returned to the woods after gorging itself on its foraged lunch. Or rather, Horg found it, as Larkin couldn’t really see whatever signs the older man pointed to.
But he followed close behind the man as they went into the woods.
They were walking for quite awhile, with Horg stopping every now and then to check the ground and surrounding bush. If he was putting on an act for Larkin’s benefit, it was certainly convincing.
Larkin was looking up through the trees, trying to work out how much daylight they had left, when a fearsome roar sounded off to his right. He turned to face the monster, noticing that Horg was already scurrying away.
Very sensible, was all he could think about that. And then he examined the beast as he smoothly drew his sword.
It seemed somewhat similar to the Irontooth, in truth. Though whereas that monster had looked like a wolf that had been somehow bred to have scales, this seemed to have been crossed with a bear. A tall bear, mind, though somewhat scrawny. Its head was half a foot above Larkin’s as it padded towards him, and it rose even higher above him when it straightened up and growled.
The first thought Larkin had was how sharp the row of teeth he could see in the creature’s jaws were. And then his eyes caught on the even longer iron-like claws on the monster’s paws, that looked like daggers.
But then he got this sense that he should be moving. He felt it was coming from his Fighter Class and so made the snap decision to let those instincts take over. And then felt a sudden presence descend on his thoughts.
The Fighter darted forward, towards the monster charging him. Just before they would have collided, the Fighter dropped to his left, letting the beast hurtle past as his sword slashed out. It tore a long gash on the monster’s flank but as the Fighter rose to his feet he knew it wouldn’t be enough to end the fight.
The beast turned and was quickly on him again, lashing out with its long arms and claws. The Fighter swayed away from them all, his sword leaping out to deliver cut after cut on the monster’s limbs and face.
Finally, as the beast growled in futile fury, the Fighter took a quick half-step forward and buried his sword into the monster’s chest. Feeling the monster’s dying breath on his face, the Fighter took a step back; retrieving his weapon as he turned to face the nearby Human…
With a sudden gasp, Larkin felt his vision go cloudy for a moment before he found himself back standing next to the dead monster.
What the hell was that?
It had been like someone else had been controlling his body, with his thoughts and view of the world fully shrunk down to the fight.
I don’t want to do that again anytime soon, he thought vehemently.
His sword was now completely drenched in blood and he bent over to wipe it clean on the monster’s fur before sheathing it. As he did so, an opaque blue pane filled his vision.
YOU HAVE REACHED LEVEL TWO IN FIGHTER. STRENGTH, ENDURANCE, AND SPEED HAVE INCREASED.
Even as he read the message, Larkin felt a warmth pass through his body. Like the feeling of being out in the sun, it started deep in his chest before radiating outwards. He felt his muscles, skin, and bone seem to tighten and ripple before that feeling.
As his Class strengthened his body.
That part I’m happy with, he thought grimly. Losing myself like that, not so much.
It seemed like his stats would increase with his Class, and having Speed included was great. He was bouncing up and down on the falls of his feet, trying to work out if he actually felt any different, when there was a faint sound of footsteps approaching.
“Hi, Horg.” He called out to the older man, who was staring at the monster with an incredulous expression. “Ready to head back?”
The villager blinked several times, before giving Larkin a shocked look.
“Turn back?” He asked, sounding stunned. “Not before harvesting this thing.”
The village started pulling out various implements from a soft pack that he’d been carrying. And so, over the next hour, Larkin had a close-up view of Horg’s work as he first skinned the bear-like monster, then extracted its teeth and claws, before hesitating.
Though the villager revealed that he’d never actually done this before, not on a monster at least.
“Never had one come so close before.” Horg told him, eyes focused on his work. “I won’t be able to carry all this meat.” The older man muttered.
Larkin quickly offered to carry it all back, which led to a brief lesson in butchering animals as Horg started cutting. He felt that without his Calm Mind Skill the sight - and certainly the smell - would have had him gagging. But it was actually interesting, even though it was getting dark by the time they finally started back to the village.
He also had the vague idea that eating the meat of carnivores wasn’t a good idea - something about the poisons that eating meat produced? But he wasn’t about to show his ignorance to Horg.
I have to assume he knows what he’s doing. He thought.
The villager ended up weighing him down with the flesh, though clearly didn’t want to push his luck at Larkin’s offer.
Once the beast had been butchered, Horg hesitated while staring at the discarded carcass on the ground.
“I’ll come back for that later.” He muttered under his breath; probably not realising that Larkin could hear him. “The scavengers shouldn’t do too much damage.”
Larkin glanced curiously at the man as they set off, trusting the Horg knew the way.
“Are monster parts valuable then?” He asked.
And got a shocked look from the villager in response.
“Of course!” He exclaimed. “I’ll be able to get at least a couple of Thrones for it from one of the merchants that’s heading to the capital. The Alchemists there are always eager for such things.”
Horg paused, clearly hesitating there as he looked at Larkin.
“It will more than pay for Blyth’s losses.” He added. “But it might take a while for anyone to come past…”
It took Larkin a moment to understand what Horg was saying.
He thinks that I’ll want some of the money, he belatedly recognised.
I’ll try and just ignore that, he decided.
Instead he asked a question to Horg as casually as he could.
“Any idea what the Alchemists do with monster parts?”
There was a clear relaxation in Horg’s posture even as he gave a shrug.
“No idea.” He said. “But the Temples approve it all, so it’s got the blessing of the Six. That’s all I need to know.”
There wasn’t much to say to that, so Larkin just nodded even as his thoughts went to the body of the Irontooth that he’d seen being dragged into Krystan’s house earlier in the day.
And Squrl said that his granddad used to be in the Royal Academy, he remembered. Maybe he would know what they’re used for?
Well, it was a little late to ask that question now.
The walk back was really easy, even though Larkin was carrying what must have been half a tonne of meat over his shoulders. Horg confidently led the way and they were emerging from the woods within an hour.
The villagers were clearly relieved at seeing Horg back safely, and also at the death of the monster. But they were absolutely delighted when they realised that the meat Larkin was carrying was available to them. Soon the smell of roasting monster meat filled the little village.
Larkin did have some doubts still about eating something from both a monster and a carnivore, but figured the villagers knew what they were doing. Besides, he had his Strengthened Immunity as well.
So he let himself relax, drinking some water as he sat by one of the fires the villagers had started in an open space.
He was trying to be polite as he turned down the third offer of ‘something stronger’ from some insistent drinkers when Horg approached him.
“Sir Larkin.” The older man greeted him with, sounding oddly formal.
He’d been full of cheer on the way back from slaying the monster, but seemed … not subdued exactly, but perhaps stiff was the word. And he was carrying a small pouch in both hands.
“What’s up, Horg?” Larkin replied, curious.
But Horg didn’t lose any of his stuffiness. Instead, he held out to pouch towards Larkin.
“Your payment for the monster.” He said. “There aren’t any merchants here currently, but everyone from the village has contributed. I hope it meets your needs.”
Larkin blinked at the pouch for a moment. He had the clear thought that this was his quest reward, but then he focused on the clear weight of the pouch; or, rather, the lack of it.
The villagers might not live in squalor, nor were they dressed in rags, but they weren’t exactly swimming in riches either. He stared around at the laughing people around him, noting that someone had found a horn-like instrument and started playing.
How far could the money in that pouch go in a place like this?
“Nah, no need for that.” He decided. “It was my pleasure. Getting rid of monsters is my jam.”
Larin decided that he liked the sound of that.
Horg tried to get him to change his mind, but Larkin was obstinate and eventually the villager dropped the matter. Instead Larkin found himself given a lark chunk of meat and from the first bite he knew why the villagers had been so happy.
Turns out that monster meat is the best!
There was some dancing after that, though Larkin stayed by the fire. And, sitting there with a sated stomach and the sound of laughter around him, he felt something seem to settle into a comfortable position in his head.
Living like this could be pretty cool.
Eventually the party wound down, and Larkin accepted Horg’s offer to sleep at his cottage. The space was hardly large; there was a separate corner for Horg and his wife, another space for their son, and then just enough remaining space for Larkin himself to lie down.
He went to sleep satisfied in himself, and woke up feeling amazingly well rested.
Larkin gratefully accepted the wrapped pack of some of the remaining monster meat that Horg offered, and then he was off. Giving the villager a final wave, he continued heading east.
