Chapter 7

Bramgild Fields, Maðrgard

“Hm? Wait, stop for a moment.”

“Mr. Adler? Why are we stopping?

“Ma’am, please call me Brotastic in-game. It’s not safe to use my real name, especially since I’m a GM.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mister, uh…Brotastic.”

“I’m not mad, Ma’am. It’s okay. Anyway, your son’s position is changing. He seems to be…ah, he’s heading for the border village we’re going to!”

“R-really? Let’s hurry there now!”

“Can do, Ma’am.”

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Merchant caravan, Briarweald

Isaac felt the rumbling of the wheels as they rolled over the uneven ground. The merchant carriage was enchanted for stability to protect the delicate goods within from tumbling during transport, but it was not powerful enough to mute all of the jostling. A domesticated monster, which looked like a scaled antelope the size of a normal horse, pulled it with tireless strength.

It had been a few days since he and Riselda had left Thistle. Nyakka, Bara-thon and Narghel had actually been hired by a merchant caravan as escorts. They had stopped over in Thistle for a brief rest, which was why they were able to put a good word in to the caravan master. In turn, the senior merchant had agreed to let them hitch a ride to Arvönnr, a Maðr(Human) Border Town built near the fringes of the Briarweald. In return, they would serve as caravan guards for the duration of the journey.

Isaac, like all the other Players in the caravan had incredible stamina and recovery times compared to the rest of the guards. They followed the schedule and changed shifts to be fair to everyone, though. Every guard’s salary depended on all of them working their own fair share, after all. The times which he met Riselda had only been in passing, and any words were brief and polite.

Then, today, he found himself sitting next to her in the same carriage during their break. It was just as awkward as he had been secretly dreading.

Isaac glanced at Riselda out of the corner of his eye. She was no longer wearing the admittedly dumpy Healer’s uniform and its accompanying medicine-stained apron. She was wearing a modest, if worn, dress with a leather vest laced tight enough to be comfortably secure. Even with the plain outfit, she was still very pretty. It was a truly startling difference, but he deduced that Riselda must have downplayed her natural looks to discourage her unwanted suitor.

And then, there was her hair. It was still gathered in a short braid that hung down to her shoulderblades, but now it was a deep burgundy, like the colour of rich wine. Isaac realized with a jolt that Riselda had caught him staring.

“…Is there something wrong with my hair, Isaac?” She asked, hesitantly.

“Ah?! Er, no. It’s…” Isaac felt like an oaf, stumbling over his own words. “Um, I mean, I remember your hair being brown. Um…”

“Oh. Yes. That.” She replied, blinking. “I dyed my hair when I…” She faltered, before continuing. “This is the original color of my hair. What does it matter to you?” She asked as a hint of defensiveness entered her tone.

“I like it.” Isaac blurted out honestly. “It looks pleasant to me. Like…you…” His brain caught up to his mouth and he looked down, feeling his entire head burn.

“…” Riselda was studiously looking away from him. Above the collar of her dress, the skin visible on her neck was flushed pink.

(In the wagon following theirs, two girls had their hands clamped over their mouths to avoid squealing. The cart driver, his hat pulled over his head and pretending he saw nothing, had a secret smile on his face.)

There was a sigh. “Isaac, I owe you an apology.” Riselda admitted in a soft voice. “You tried to be supportive that night, yet I turned you away. Truthfully speaking, ‘twas in my right to refuse - it’s not right for a man to be in a lady’s room at night if they are not promised to one another. However, I know you were only trying to reassure me. I trust that you had pure intentions at the time.” She smiled reassuringly.

Isaac digested her words and nodded. “You don’t have to apologize for anything. I just made a mess of things, after all.”

“If you blame yourself, I will be cross with you.” Riselda warned him sharply. “You do not control the Alderman’s actions. Don’t insult Farah and Kiernan’s efforts, either. They’ve sworn to right this wrong already, so have faith in them.”

Properly chastised, Isaac had no other choice but to say, “I understand.”

“That aside,” Riselda continued, “I would have accompanied you even if nothing had happened. I was planning to leave on a journey of self-discovery. ‘Tis simple logic to gather companions for such a dangerous venture.” She concluded. Isaac found her ‘simple logic’ a little strange, but he reminded himself that he did not know her well enough to pry into her motivations as of yet.

Yet, he still felt a niggling little urge to know. It was not quite curiosity…

“Hehe…Seems like quite a good mood in here, myeh?” purred a smug voice.

Isaac jumped in his seat, while Riselda shot to the farthest end of the wagon with a strangled squeak, her cheeks colored an incandescent red. Nyakka was peeking in from the driver’s seat, having hopped on earlier. She was peering at them both with half-lidded, impish eyes, a wide smile on her lips.

(In the wagon behind them, two girls let out an irritated “Tch!”. The driver frowned under his hat, muttering, “Bad form, lassie.”)

Isaac felt his racing heartbeat slow. “N-Nyakka? Is your shift over?”

“Hey, I told you to call me Onee-chan, Bushido*-kun.” She drawled languidly, even as her smile grew wider and her tail curled mischievously “To answer your question, yeah. My shift’s done. We’re about to stop for the night too. Just came over to tell ya that Orbost’s bunch has the night watch.” Her smile turned into a shit-eating grin. “Well, pretty good news for lovebirds like you two, I think.”

Suddenly, Nyakka found her nose an inch away from the business end of a mage staff, which was glowing quite menacingly.

“Walk or Freeze.” Riselda ordered, her voice practically dripping icicles.

Nyakka fled from the carriage, but the trailing notes of her impish laughter were left behind her. “Uhuhuhu…..!”

The two people left in the back of the wagon would not look at each other for the rest of the day.

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The next day, the merchant caravan left the Briarweald forest.

For those who had long since grown used to the gentle dimness of the forest boughs, the unobstructed rays of the sun was blinding. Slowly, their eyes adjusted to the glare until they could finally see the gentle hills that surrounded them.

All in front of them, the gently rolling hills of the Bramgild Plains spread from horizon to horizon. The wood and stone of Arvönnr was already visible from where they had emerged. The road beneath them would lead them straight there. Unlike the forest, everyone could now see monsters coming from far away. There was a sense of easing tension amongst everyone, though those whom called the forests home could not help but feel slightly exposed without the shades of the trees.

There remained only 2 days’ journey left to the human town. That night, Isaac found himself sitting beside Bara-thon. The Bull Saelkhy turned out to be friendlier than his fierce appearance indicated.

“…Right, so don’t say I didn’t warn you now. Don’t ‘hold out for a rare drop’ like I did, because later I found out you have to [gather materials] from the mobs and the world, get them to a blacksmith and tell them to make the items you want.” Bara-thon warned. “When they tell you a material is [rare], it means it came from a named mob or boss that’s [Rare to Find] and not because its RNG drop chance is small. In the end, I had to log out and come back when the boss respawned so I could kill it. Again.”

He gave a snort of laughter. “Boy, did I feel like an idiot afterwards. Myth/Real is pretty realistic that way, if you think about it. There’s no way a giant spider is going to miraculously drop gold coins and some ‘magic +5 sword of whatever’ once you cut it open.”

Isaac nodded enthusiastically. Bara-thon and friends were experienced adventurers and had much wisdom to share. That, and many, many tales of hilarious shenanigans.

“Hm…anything else now…” The burly man hummed thoughtfully. His eyes drifted over to Nyakka, who was drooling away while staring at a roasting Auroch shank as it was turned on a spit. He began to grin in a particularly nasty way. “Say, did I tell you about the time Nyakka was a [Sumo]?”

“…What exactly do you mean, [Sumo]?” Isaac asked, confused.

“Shh!” Bara-thon waved frantically. “Keep it down!” He cast a cautious look over at his underdressed team member. Once he was sure she was too distracted, he leaned over and opened a screen for Isaac to see.

The mere sight of the image was enough to cause Isaac’s eyes to bulge. “Pft!” His shoulder shook with suppressed laughter. “H-H-How did t-tha- Pfahah-! That! Happen?!”

“Heh. This happened because Narghel was grinding his [Cooking] skill and offloading all both his successes and failures onto us to carry.” Bara-thon began. “We only just scraped by killing a Rock Trampler, so Narghel decided to cook the entire damn thing in the name of revenge! “

Bara-thon raised a finger. “Now, at this point of time, we’ve never seen what happens when a Player goes over their [Satiety] limit. What’s worse, Nyakka isn’t exactly what you call patient and her Restoration item was out of energy. The [Whole Roast Trampler] would boost HP, HP regen and Vigor while increasing [Satiety] by 80 when eaten. We chose that moment to turn around and organize our loot.” The Bull’s face twisted into a wry grin. “When we turned around, our dear [Pugilist] was on her way to becoming a [Sumo]…”

“BA-RA-THON.” Came a very furious voice. “WHAT have I said about telling anyone else about THAT STORY?!”

“Shiiiiit.” Bara-thon breathed calmly, before leaping off his seat and sprinting away. Nyakka was hot on his heels.

“GET BACK HERE, YOU HAMBURGER BASTARD! I’LL MURDERIZE YOU!”

“HELL NO, YOU STRIPPER! SLOW DOWN BEFORE THAT BELT YOU CALL A SHIRT FALLS OFF!”

“JOKE’S ON YOU! IT’S ENCHANTED! DON’T GET YOUR HOPES UP!”

“WITH THAT WASHBOARD CHEST OF YOURS, NO WONDER IT NEEDS MAGIC!”

“M-MYAAA--?! I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW I’M A B-CUP! I’M NOT FLAT!”

“YOU ADMITTED YOUR OWN CUP SIZE IN FRONT OF EVERYBODY? YOU EXHIBITIONIST!”

“THAT’S YOUR FAULT! ASSHOLE! SCUM! HENTAI!”

“They’re such good friends…” Isaac thought to himself, feeling a little envious.

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The next day, the walls of Arvönnr drew closer and closer.

However, the sense of security had disappeared fairly early on. In the morning, there was a commotion spotted on the horizon. There were sightings of what looked like a large bird swooping down on something they could not see. At first, it was just an interesting sight, not worth worrying over.

As the day wore on, the ‘large bird’ had been getting closer and closer. Gradually, they began to see not just the wide wings, but also four legs. They heard its predatory screeches, so loud they carried over the distance.

It was a Griffon. It was also incredibly enraged.

The caravan leader made the call and ordered every wagon to make haste towards the safety of the town walls, but it soon became clear that they would fall agonizingly short as the Griffon rapidly closed in on the caravan and the road. Isaac and Riselda had hopped down from the wagons and were gathering at the defensive line out towards the side of the trail. By now, the town’s warning bells were ringing and they could see archers gathering on the walls.

The two of them were gathered together with Nyakka, Bara-thon and Narghel. This was not an accident, as the trio was responsible for their conduct. Nyakka had equipped a set of bulky metallic gloves and boots, Bara-thon was hefting a massive maul in his hands while Narghel had equipped an ornate staff with a sharp spike of rune-inscribed bronze capping it.

Orbost, who was a Player Svartalfar of red fox lineage, was standing much farther down the line. He strung his bow with one swift motion before peering out at the incoming monster. Abruptly, he pointed and gave an indistinct shout.

Isaac followed the pointing finger with his eyes. Next to him, he heard Narghel inhale sharply. “There’s Players out there!” He exclaimed.

He was right. Now that they were close enough, they could see that the Griffon was engaged in a running battle with several figures on the ground. One of them had full plate armor which was shining brightly in the sun. The archers on the walls of the town were already raining arrows on the flying monster, but they were being blown horrendously off course with each massive wing-beat.

“Shouldn’t we go and help?” Isaac asked, his gaze darting between Bara-thon and the battle.

The Bull-cloaked Saelkhy opened his mouth – but that was as far as he got. The embattled Players suddenly turned and ran straight for the caravan guards. “What the F-” The expletive was cut short by the Griffon’s enraged shriek as it dove right towards Orbost’s section of the line.

FERAL GRIFFON TYRANT

It plowed through the men, and into the carts beyond them, tossing men, wood and debris into the air. Several screams tore through the air as the Griffon dragged itself to a stop beyond the line. “Shit!” Bara-thon let the word explode from his mouth. “We need to get there now!” He ordered even as he began to charge.

“On it!” Nyakka confirmed. Her powerful, muscled legs bunched and shot her forwards, her exceedingly light gear and training turning her into a speeding arrow. She blurred towards the Griffon, covering half the distance in what seemed like no time at all.

Narghel, though, was suddenly distracted by something. “Oh my god, you assholes!” He whispered harshly. Isaac looked as he ran, only to see the original four Players seemed to be fading at the edges. “Those fuckers better not be trying what I think they’re trying…” The masked mage muttered under his breath.

As Isaac passed the wooden wreckage of a cart, he saw a girl, pulling futilely at an arm sticking from a pile of broken wood. There was the torn corpse of a man with a hat lying nearby. There was blood everywhere.

“Ellie! ELLIE! Please, don’t leave me!” He heard her voice fade as he passed her by and his teeth ground together.

The Griffon ahead had lost sight of its original aggressors, but it was not the slightest bit appeased. It charged at the targets it could see now, shrieking. Nyakka intercepted it with a flying kick to its beak, disrupting its charge. It screamed in fury and swiped its eagle-taloned foreclaw at her. She danced out of reach and met the following swipe with punch and a roar of her own. “That’s right! Play with Nyakka, Kentucky!”

The narrowing of the beast’s eyes was the first sign of its dangerous intelligence. Blowing Nyakka backwards with a mighty flap of its wings was the second.

The catgirl pugilist went tumbling backwards, cursing and spitting as she went. A volley of arrows whizzed over her and struck the Griffon. Orbost the archer plucked an arrow from between his sharp teeth and nocked it, standing together with the surviving marksmen from his squad. The Griffon blew the second volley away, but it was a distraction for heavily armored shield-bearers to charge right up to the monster.

Bara-thon stopped Isaac with a hand on the shoulder. “Hold up. Let the [Tanks] gain aggro first.” He said.

They did not have to wait long. With a loud roar, the Tanks were gave their all in a spirited assault, hacking and slashing away with weapons of all kinds. However, Isaac grimly noted that the Griffon seemed to be feeling little more than annoyance from this, even as its claws struck sparks at shields. They did succeed in their main goals, for the Griffon was now looking directly at them.

“MOVE, YOU FOOLS!” The caravan leader’s voice rang. “CLEAR THE WRECKAGE! GET THOSE CARRIAGES INTO THE TOWN! DO IT NOW! Bleedin’ Gods, girl, we don’t have time for this! It’s too late for them! Leave the dead and save yourself!”

“No! Ellie! Ellie! I don’t…I won’t…!”

“Use Fire Magic!” Riselda’s voice called out from behind them. “Burn its pinions and ground the monster!”

A volley of missiles soared overhead. This time, they were not arrows but fiery spears and darts, roaring and hissing their deadly way through the air!

They exploded against the Griffon and it screamed in pain. Unfortunately, though its plumage was scorched, it did not burn. Its gaze snapped onto the casters with laser intensity and its great wings rose menacingly. With the sound of a gigantic whip cracking, the Griffon launched itself off the ground with impossible speed for such a huge beast. The fighters engaging it were blown off their feet. Isaac staggered as he covered his face, buffeted by the powerful gust.

Isaac lowered his arms in time to spin around and see their spellcasters combine their magic to raise a massive wall of ice.

The Griffon slammed into it, shattering the bulwark into slivers, but its attack failed. Talons and claws scraped as it launched itself off the construct, screeching in mounting fury. The rest of the wall collapsed onto the ground amidst a spray of icy water.

The shieldbearers had formed up at this point and were putting up an immense racket. Isaac saw the glow of Skills and realized that they must be using [Taunt]s and [Shield Cymbal]s.

However, the airborne Griffon only paid them a passing glance and circled around as it began to sink in the air, its glare once more focused onto the spellcasters.

“Goddammit!” Bara-thon cursed from next to him. “It’s fucking smart! It can disregard aggro!”

Isaac came to the same conclusion with a mounting horror. The Hate Tusk was easily distracted, but this monster was on a whole other level.

Unknown to the people below, the Griffon possessed the Trait [Arrogant Lord]. It treated everything smaller than itself with contempt. That is why taunts do not work on this Elite Monster.

Isaac was preparing himself to cast a spell directly into the monster’s path. It was flying relatively straight and presenting a very tempting target…but as he raised his sheathed saber, he saw the Griffon’s flight level off just over the ground. The Griffon opened its beak and SCREAMED towards the ground below it as it flew. Everyone shouted and clamped their hands over their ears at the horrific sound. A cone of distortion was pouring from the Griffon’s gaping beak. As it hit the ground, it vanished in a cloud of dust and ripped grass.

It was [Blood Mist Dirge].

Pain Resistance Lv.22 -> 23Agony is no stranger to you. Your have learned to dull pain instinctively

and keep moving to avoid the worst of damage.

Synchronized Skill!

Isaac, who had the highest [Pain Resistance] in the entire caravan, managed to shrug off the stabbing agony entirely in short order. He saw the Griffon, now dangerously close to the spellcasters. They were struggling to get out of the monster’s path of devastation. Amongst them was Riselda. She staggered as fast as she could, but tripped over her long skirt.

She was not a Player. If she died, she stayed dead. That horrible thought ran through Isaac’s mind in that instant.

So he ran. He put everything he had into his sprint. The [Blood Mist Dirge] caught two mages and he saw their names turn grey as their skin split under their clothes. Blood sprayed into a fine mist in the air.

Isaac prayed “Please reach! Please reach! Please reach!”

He reached her. Isaac grabbed her waist and heaved her out of the Griffon’s path. He leapt forwards-

-PAIN-

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*Bushido is a philosophy followed by Japanese Samurai. They are also famous for having moves that focuses on attacks while drawing a sword from sheaths - Iaido.