Mark of the fated a litr.., p.18
Mark of the Fated: A LitRPG Adventure, page 18
The ability tab on my character avatar caught my eye and I opened it up. True to Bart’s word, my exploits had been gradually pushing the various skills up. I had points to spend across the first tiers of multiple trees. The first that took my fancy was the generic Combat tree. I had two available points to allocate as I read through the descriptions.
My eyes strayed towards the reduced damage, but in all seriousness it was far better to avoid the attacks altogether. I didn’t give myself a chance to hesitate and gave one point each to evasion and frenzy. Both skills jumped to level 2 and I could see no way of undoing the choices on the screen which I was grateful for. There was a single point in the Ranged tree but I left that alone and moved on to Stealth.
I repeated my hasty picks and added a point each to assassin and stealth before I could talk my self out of it. Unsurprisingly, the more in-depth information warned about the impact of wearing heavier armour to the stealth skill, but left some hope that at stupidly high levels I could pretty much dance in full plate next to an enemy and they would be none the wiser. The Melee tree options were heavily reliant on my chosen class which would come later so I ignored the three available points. Casting had nothing for me to apply and I skimmed through it quickly before shutting down the whole interface.
For the first time in my life I’d taken the bull by the horns and not fretted about the minutiae of a given choice. My points had deftly gone into areas I’d already found useful, and that was good enough. I knew the class would be a far more difficult proposition for my overanalysing mind, but that was an issue for another day. Climbing from the chair, I prepared to join the villagers on the next part of their journey.
Chapter 22
Hit The Road, Jack
I came across a dozen manual handling accidents waiting to happen. The men and women were lifting with their backs, twisting, all manner of poor practices that were made worse by the feeling of impending danger. I slipped my Health and Safety hat on and joined them. By the time we were done, they were all wincing at their burning thighs, but not their backs for once. Even the ones who had pissed and moaned about a stranger telling them how to do their job had reduced their visceral complaints to simply muttering under their breath when they realised I was right.
Romund caught sight of something and cast a nervous look my way. It was the tacked horses from the stables The foal trotted obediently beside her mother.
“Mark, I hope you don’t mind, but I oversaw you in the stables with Lady after the fight. She got that name because she is the furthest thing from a lady I can think of. She is surly, hard to break, uncooperative, even aggressive. No one had ever been able to approach her like you did. We’d almost given up on her.”
“I don’t follow.”
“We’d like you to take her. As a gift. If she’ll have you, that is.”
Lady pulled the reins free and snorted at the man who’d been holding them. Without invite, she walked over to me and nibbled at my chest. I hissed and backed away at the sharp pain. “It doesn’t look like it.”
“That was affection, Mark. She’d have taken a chunk if she didn’t like you.”
I rubbed at the stinging skin. “I’m thrilled. There’s just one problem; I’ve never ridden before.”
He seemed taken aback at my admission. “Then consider that our second gift. We’ll teach you on the way. Why don’t you try and mount her?”
I looked at Lady. She looked at me. “Can I just walk with her for a while? Get to… er, know her a little bit?”
“As you wish.” Romund walked over and turned his back to the horse conspiratorially. He showed me a small bag in his hand bulging with round objects. “Treats,” he explained quietly. “Apples. She loves them. So does Bella, her filly. Just keep them out of sight or she’ll never leave you alone. I’d suggest popping them in her saddlebags.”
Romund handed them to me and I tried to sneak past with my booty, but Lady was no fool. She snuffled at the bag and tried to bite through the fabric. I became the old Mark; the one who’d once adopted a new puppy with no clue what to do to stop them gnawing my chair legs. Lady was a damned sight bigger than Honey at six weeks, however as she manhandled me to-and-fro to get at the fruit. “No! Bad girl! Bad Lady!”
Much the same as my first dog, she paid me no attention whatsoever. I moved to bypass her head, but the beast turned with me, drawing laughter from the onlookers.
“Come on! You’re making me look like a tit!”
Not to be deterred, her mouth kept working at the bag.
“Perhaps distract her with one while you stow the rest?” offered Romund.
“Thanks for the tip,” I snarked, making sure to give the filly hers first as some kind of pathetic retaliation. Lady didn’t give two shits and took the shiny green apple when it was her turn. As they chewed through the fruit, mouths frothing with juice, I packed away the rest and secured the clasp.
“Take it from me, that went well.” Romund winked. “Anyone else and she would’ve been prone to trampling them for the whole bag.”
“I guess I should be grateful.” Bella snuggled up between us and ducked beneath Lady’s body to suckle.
“Indeed, you should. Are you sure you don’t mind escorting us? I know you’ve probably got many other pressing adventurer tasks to take care of.”
My quest log lit up.
Quest – Escort the Grain Supplies (Optional)
Description – Assist the villagers in reaching safety with the grain to fortify the food supplies of the Dawnstar armies.
Reward - + 10 Realm Points
+ 10 Reputation with Dawnstar Alliance
“Looks like a twofer,” I remarked. Both quests started and ended at the same place which was my only logical destination anyway.
“A twofer?”
“It’s just a saying. It means I’m not that busy, so I’ll help your people and the goods arrive safely.”
“Wonderful! I can’t tell you how much of a relief this is to us all.”
“Let’s hope Lady doesn’t have second thoughts about crushing me for access to the apples.”
“You’ll be a touch safer if you were in the saddle,” suggested Romund. “Less chance of falling underfoot.”
I looked at Lady. Lady looked at me. I stayed right where I was. It was probably my natural aversion to creatures ten times my own bodyweight who were built from solid muscle. I’d watched a comedy years ago where a guy called Mongo punched out a horse. Having felt the solid bone under my touch in the stables, I was under no illusion who would come out on top if we ever went toe to toe. I might get a couple of lucky punches in and give her a black eye, but I’d end up as a hoof imprinted paste at some point.
“Fuck it,” I sighed. “What do I do?”
Romund hurried over, bursting with excitement. “Approach her from the left, slip your foot in the stirrup, and climb aboard. She might be a bit naughty and try to walk away. Just hold her firmly and show her you’re in charge.”
“Are you serious? If she tries that I’ll keep my feet planted firmly on terra firma thank you very much. She can wander off wherever she wants.”
“As you will,” said Romund obligingly.
I moved towards Lady’s ear. “Now listen up. I’ve got plenty of goodies in my bag. If you make me look like a dickhead, I’ll eat them all myself while you watch.”
She shook her head and whinnied.
“Oh, I’ll do it,” I warned her. “I’ve done worse. I had leftover chicken from dinner once. Honey wanted it, but she’d chewed my new trainers. You want to know what happened?”
Lady snorted impatiently.
“It went right in the bin, that’s what. Bam! Gone.” I left out the bit where she and Marco had conspired to knock the bin over and steal the meat while I was in the shower. If you’d ever seen the meme with the dog with the half closed eyes and smug grin on its face? That was her exact expression as she perched on the sofa triumphantly. Marco at least had the decency to look out cautiously from behind the furniture. Little fuckers.
Moving cautiously towards the hanging stirrup, Lady watched me. I was certain she would wait until I was half aboard before moving, making me hop after her in slapstick fashion before crashing into the mud. I slipped my foot in and tensed. Bella had also turned to watch, as had the entire village.
“Not helping!” I hissed at the audience.
I kicked off, rising into the air with a grimace of anticipation plastered on my mug. Lady was as good as her name and I flipped my leg over without incident.
“She was made for you,” Romund reaffirmed to himself as much as me, and walked off happily to the lead wagon.
“Erm, Romund? What do I do now?” I called out, earning a chorus of friendly chuckles from the villagers. It was good they were trying to move past the horror, but not at my expense.
“Just gently squeeze your heels into her girth, her sides. Not too firmly, mind. That’ll get her walking just as merry as you please.”
“What if I want her to run?”
“It’s called galloping,” he called over his shoulder.
“Running, galloping, who gives a shit what it’s called? What if I need to get somewhere fast?”
“Then jump off and run, Mark! Take the learning slowly or you’ll end up in a ditch when she throws you. A broken limb out here is no good. Best we can do is saw it off if it doesn’t set right or becomes infected.” He paused and looked at me. “Though I suspect even a break wouldn’t be a problem for you, eh?”
I kept quiet, accepted the advice, and waited for the column to move off. Astrid and her mother trotted up alongside me.
“Would you mind keeping an eye on me?” I asked the child.
“I will,” Astrid replied. “You’re doing fine. She’s totally at ease with you.”
I looked down at my steed. “She is?” All I could feel was the tense muscles and swish of her tail. She could be furious with me and I’d be completely oblivious until I landed headfirst on the trail, twisting my body into a broken pretzel.
“Uh-huh,” she confirmed. “You can talk to her too. It get’s her used to your voice. Tell her she’s a good girl. Rub her neck.”
“I don’t want to make any sudden movements,” I replied, statue-still. “I think I’ll just sit here quietly and let her do her thing.”
The little girl giggled at my fear. “You don’t have to be scared of her.”
“She’s massive. And strong. I think a little bit of concern is a healthy thing.”
“She’ll sense it,” Astrid warned. “And she won’t like it.”
“Okay, okay.” I let a little of the nervous tension leave my body and settled into the saddle. In truth, I hadn’t even realised I was wound tighter than a ten-mil lug nut left in the rain for a decade. Lady snorted as if to say that’s better as my body relaxed.
A new ability popped up on my screen.
Skill – Horse riding (Level 1)
Description – You have joined your ancient forebears in breaking these majestic creatures. Just be careful they don’t break you.
As your skill level increases, so too does the speed, stamina, and health of your currently chosen horse.
That was pretty cool. At some point I might be able to ride across vast fields, the sun at my back and the wind in my hair as the miles passed in a blur. Or charging downhill into a legion of orcs with the freshly risen sun at my back. Until then I’d be content to let Lady do her thing while I kept out of her business.
“Is everyone ready?” called Romund.
The sadness as the farmers gave their home one final goodbye was palpable. They had shared many happy years here until the arrival of Gutrender and his army. All that remained of those memories was pain and the stench of their friends cooking while the soulless orcs laughed. Lady whickered unhappily as I unconsciously tensed again.
“Sorry, girl,” I said, giving her a firm rub.
“Let’s go! I want a good few miles covered before daybreak!” came the call and the weary procession began its march toward the uncertain safety of Pitchhollow Garrison.
I gently squeezed Lady with my calves and she happily followed my instructive touch.
“What a fucking start,” I whispered, leaving the slaughter behind us.
Chapter 23
Hot On Our Heels
The sound of morning birdsong accompanied us as we forged down the well-worn trail. As the sun had fully risen, Romund had called for a brief rest break to allow the animals to be fed and watered. I fed Lady and Bella an apple before making my way into the trees for a quick leak. The air was close in the deep shadows of the voluminous trees. It smelt faintly of decaying vegetation, like my friend’s composter. I made sure I was well out of sight before dropping my keks. The twin sensations of an emptying bladder and a straightened spine were pure bliss and I shuddered pleasurably.
My horse riding skill had crept up by a point little under an hour ago. I assumed it would follow the same path as my combat skills in that the further it increased, the amount of practice required would grow commensurately.
The sounds of thundering hooves carried through the trees. A moment later, voices cried out in panic as the rider delivered their message. I shook myself off and hurried back to the trail. The beaten down farmers were bereft, wailing and tearing at their hair.
“What is it?” I asked, grabbing Romund by the arm.
“A warg pack!” he blurted, riven with panic.
I noticed a familiar face that hadn’t been with the trade caravan. His name escaped me as I ran over. “Sorry, mate, I forget your name. What’s happening?”
“It’s Wynstan, sire. Romund asked me to stay back just in case another raiding party stumbled on the scene. What came out of the forest was far worse.”
“Wargs?” I only had the great Tolkien to go by as I asked, “Tell me about them.”
“There were five of them. The goblin riders were furious, letting their mounts feed on the orc carcasses. I left as quietly as I could, but I could hear them howling behind me.”
“How far?” I demanded.
“Not far,” replied Wynstan. “Not far at all.”
As if he conjured their hellish cry out of memory, the wargs howled in the distance. When he’d said not far I had no clue how true his words had been. Everyone started to panic, achieving nothing as they bounced off each other in their attempts to flee. Romund wrestled with a woman who was trying to untie one of the horses from her wagon. My mind was racing as a new quest came live.
Quest – Protect the Wagons (Optional)
Description – The feral wargs have your delicious scent. Nothing short of death can keep them at bay. Stand your ground and fight, or flee for your life and perhaps live, the choice is yours. Will your conscience allow you to leave the villagers as food to allow for your cowardice?
Reward – Simple Longbow
I pushed the ill-timed pop-up aside and concentrated. I realised I needed more information. “Romund!”
“What?” he grunted as the woman kicked him in the shin.
“Do the wargs travel through the trees?”
He’d grabbed the struggling woman in a bear hug and lifted her from the ground where she continued to thrash and scream. “I don’t think so,” he grunted with some effort. “The soldiers that passed through said they kept to open land and trails.”
“Ok, good. Everyone listen!” I roared, stilling the frenzy of panicked activity. “Who has an axe?”
One of the women tossed back a blanket on her wagon and revealed several.
“Good. Here’s what we’re going to do, but we have to do it quick.” I dropped to my knees, pulling out my dagger. “I want a dozen holes in a row just like this.” I carved a deep, angled furrow in the hard earth, facing the way we’d come. The villagers, knowing they couldn’t outrun the enemy, came over and studied my work.
“What are you going to do?” asked Romund.
“Spear the shit out of them if we can,” I replied. “I need the strongest men among you to follow me with the axes. No fear of heights either!” I snatched up one of the choppers which, to my relief, had been recently sharpened. I heard the crunch of feet following me into the dense forest brush. “Pick a tree, one with a branch at least twice as long as you are tall. The longer the better. I don’t care if you have to climb to the top, just make it quick.”
I found my target a good sixty feet above my head and slipped the axe into my belt. Spurred on by adrenaline, I scurried up those branches like a spider monkey on meth. I found a sturdy branch to stand on and pulled the weapon free. My increased strength saw the limb give way after four solid blows. It sagged, the timber cracking. One final strike and the last fibres gave way, sending it crashing to the forest floor. There was another ideal candidate a few feet higher, so I carefully circled the thick trunk and hacked that one free too.
“Oh shit,” I muttered as I started to descend.
It was all fun and games as you were climbing, only the distant sky to worry about which was so far away as to be unfathomable. On the way down, you couldn’t help but see just how far and painful a fall would be. The others were of a similar mind and took their time in getting down safely.
“Good! Now drag them back to the road as quick as you can!”
We took them under our arms and force marched through the brush, the little branches snagging and slowing us down. Off in the distance, but far closer than they had been, the wargs shrieked gleefully as the strength of the scents grew. There was a hunger in the cry, and I was in no doubt as to what they craved.
“Will this work?” begged Romund as we crashed back out onto the trail.
“It better,” I replied, dropping my haul. “Now we need to strip them and sharpen them, there’s not much time.”
