Chapter 515: 515 Camp Kamajeen
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515 Camp Kamajeen
There were other incidents, of course.
Children playing at archery, one of whom struck an arrow off my coif.
A woman throwing out boiling water, who claimed not to have seen me.
An aggressive dog, setting itself in my path and barking at me. My mouth was salivating by the time the owner’s son called it off.
But not one of them could be proven as a breach of hospitality, at least not by my System. As such, I might as well have been chained to my tent. A tent, incidentally, that was extremely hard to set up alone, five feet tall or not.
In the end, I had to nail down one half of the tent, set the central pole up with a slant, and then nail down the other side. Two iterations of this, and it was a fit place to live. Inside of this, I set up a cot, placed my knapsack (I won’t claim full backpack-hood for that tiny thing) at one end, and the bulk of my blankets and furs upon it.
A quick condition check revealed that two of the furs were running out of Condition. I did what I could with my sewing kit, but leather-work is not sewing.
In time, I stretched out between the layers. Say what you will about spring, but the warmer temperatures of the summer are my favorite. I wondered, idly, whether those layers of cloth counted as armor before moving my actual armor, piece by piece, into my inventory.
I slept well and soundly, and knife free. When the sun pried its way into my eyes, I tried to tap it. NEVER try tapping energy when you’re still partially asleep! The energy caught around my throat (the fifth chakram), shining through the skin.
.....
Children and adults alike took great pleasure in talking to me, and laughing at the colored light that emerged from my mouth as I talked. It was contagious; I found reasons to talk to people even as my throat began to cool, eventually leaving behind nothing but burns. (And no damage to the throat chakra. Have I mentioned that my chakra were durable, as I was?)
What it was, was stained. It took me about half a pail of water to wash my throat out, but my voicebox remained numb. The front of my throat felt like I’d poured boiling oil down it and the dead tissue would peel later.
It was, perhaps, because of this distraction that I didn’t notice him. Green of skin, with just the faintest hint of brown. Black of hair, tied back in a greasy braid. At first, I mistook him for...
“Narces?” I asked.
“Xeno.” he replied. “Have you heard my name before?”
“Narces’ younger brother.” I said. “The Axemaster.”
His grin broadened, became something I associated with hostility. “Come. Let us spar. Let us understand each other as only warriors do.”
[No social classes detected.] my reticule informed me.
“Let us first make certain the Kamajeen understand.” I said. “It would not do for them to think either of us had breached hospitality.”
He snorted, but then waved his hand. “The nearest guardian type is back this way.”
“Oh.” she said. “Death duels. We have the same in our culture. Just keep it twenty paces from any tent. I recommend the scrub brush over there.”
“It’s not a death duel.” I said. “At least not on my end.”
“I promise nothing.” Xeno said. “To truly know a person’s character, you must truly battle them.”
I sighed. “This is from the younger side of younger brother.”
He had an axe, if the term still applies, that was nearly the size a minotaur would wield. It was one of those curve and hook blades, that just look like the smith had an extra length of steel they didn’t know what to do with. A double blade might have been impractical, but honestly it would have looked better with that.
“My brother says you get more protection out of a metal plate than most people get from a proper shield. Come! Show me one of your few redeeming traits!”
In spite of his words, he was upon me almost before I finished adjusting the straps. Yes, the straps to my wooden shield. Axes are designed to break through wood; I had to be careful of the angle as I blocked.
“Double Attack!” he called out.
“Multiple Block!” I countered.
“I Spit in Your Eye!” he used next.
“Aaaah!” I shouted. “Who DOES that?”
“I do, for one.” he said, taking a board’s width off the left of my shield. “Leg Sweep!”
“Counter Trip!”
“Counter... Stable Stance!” he said, wavering but not falling. “Whirling Death!”
“My Shield is My Life!”
I let him chase me around a little bit, while I got another shield properly seated. A word of advice; don’t. In a genuine combat, Xeno would have taken a limb first, and then my life.
“Your skill is formidable.” he said, “But your Arminger abilities are lacking. “Four-fold Edge!”
“Stalwart Stance! Shield Wall!”
Another thing not to do, and another evasion, this one a downhill roll, to equip another shield.
“Ha! Too easy!” he said, leaping into the air. “Bounding Hack!”
“Vanity Block!” I responded.
“What the crap was THAT nonsense?” he asked, attacking in looping strikes.
I shrugged, landing a blow with my blade that he mostly just ignored. “Nonsense that keeps me fighting.”
“Gyah!” he yelled, “Gyah!” striking with each exclamation.
[Your health is 136/160.]
Huh, I was doing better than I had any right to be.
???????????????? ???????????????????????????? ???????????????????????? ???????????????????? ???????? ????????????????????-????????????.????????????
“Are you SURE you’re fighting at your best?” I asked.
“Thought you’d never notice. Try this: Mighty Strokes!”
Merciful.
Gods.
I mean, Guur hit harder than Xeno did, but his best level did twenty four base damage. Base. It didn’t take long after that.
The remains of the fourth of six shields hanging from my arm, I held out the other hand. He stopped his blade, exactly cutting the flesh between fingers.
“Is that it?” he huffed. “Are you already at half?”
“I yield.” I said. “Half health.”
He spun his axe twice, clearing it of blood before putting it back into his inventory. He shook his loose mane of hair, the cloth hair tie having become split during our match. And then, he fell onto his butt. “Ah, most... excuse me.” he spat out half a mouthful of blood, “Most invigorating.”
Cheers went up from the Kamajeen, who had assembled to watch. If they noticed how he stumbled a bit as he waved a hand in the air, or how his heavy breaths were laced with mist, they did not mention it. Xeno was their champion, and they bathed him in glory.
I had another matter to attend to. For all of my lack of formal training...
[You have gained level one in the military class: Arminger. You have received ten development points.]
There were a plethora of abilities that unlocked, not all of them obviously linked. And none were great improvements over what I already had. But... put enough small improvements together and the result is something worth having.
It was just a matter of time and development points. Or properly gathered XP in the right areas. I stumbled, and cannot claim it was just because of the words in my vision.
I pulled loose a broken tooth, and then another. Two days, tops, before the new teeth had rotated into position. I was down over ninety health, enough to knock younger me unconscious three times over.
“Bwa ha!” Xeno laughed. “Come! I can’t eat and drink all of this by myself. My belly would burst open.”
My tendons ached; I’d two [Muscle Tear]s, a [Cracked Skull], and the first [Concussion] of my new body. “Ugh. So I lived up to expectations?”
“Well,” he said, “clearly you at least lived.” He rotated his shoulder. “And I don’t mind admitting it’s been a while since I’ve taken such injuries. Honestly, it’s been a while since Hortiluk was wrong about someone’s abilities.”
“Hortiluk?” I asked. “You’re with Hortiluk?”
“You as well.” he said, “To the extent any of us are WITH that skurrl. I’m just another expendable tool in his artworks.” He spat. “Politics and whispers, rumor and reputation. I value none of what he is or does, and yet I still end up serving him more often than not.”
In spite of myself, I did respect Hortiluk, who still bore the title ‘Voice of Rakkal’. He was still a pustule filled with lies, fears, and other dark things.
What was the saying? He’s a lying snake, but he’s on our side?
“I am not among his greatest admirers, but Rakkal treasures him.” I finally said.
“And when Rakkal no longer treasures him?” Xeno asked.
“I’m not getting in Rakkal’s way.” I said. “If I can keep one or two blades off his back while he finishes Hortiluk with his bare hands, I think that will be enough.”
“Bold words,” Xeno said, “since you don’t know how I feel on the subject.”
I flicked a scale loose from a rent in my mail. “We just finished fighting.” I said, “I know enough to trust you.”
“For someone who hides so well behind a shield, you are remarkably bold.”
Yes, that’s an actual piece of armor. It’s the mail that sits under your helmet, down to your shoulders.
Internal sunburns are the worst type.
Yes, that’s another sin ability, enhanced exactly the way it sounds.
Please report us if you find any errors so we can fix it asap!
515 Camp Kamajeen
There were other incidents, of course.
Children playing at archery, one of whom struck an arrow off my coif.
A woman throwing out boiling water, who claimed not to have seen me.
An aggressive dog, setting itself in my path and barking at me. My mouth was salivating by the time the owner’s son called it off.
But not one of them could be proven as a breach of hospitality, at least not by my System. As such, I might as well have been chained to my tent. A tent, incidentally, that was extremely hard to set up alone, five feet tall or not.
In the end, I had to nail down one half of the tent, set the central pole up with a slant, and then nail down the other side. Two iterations of this, and it was a fit place to live. Inside of this, I set up a cot, placed my knapsack (I won’t claim full backpack-hood for that tiny thing) at one end, and the bulk of my blankets and furs upon it.
A quick condition check revealed that two of the furs were running out of Condition. I did what I could with my sewing kit, but leather-work is not sewing.
In time, I stretched out between the layers. Say what you will about spring, but the warmer temperatures of the summer are my favorite. I wondered, idly, whether those layers of cloth counted as armor before moving my actual armor, piece by piece, into my inventory.
I slept well and soundly, and knife free. When the sun pried its way into my eyes, I tried to tap it. NEVER try tapping energy when you’re still partially asleep! The energy caught around my throat (the fifth chakram), shining through the skin.
.....
Children and adults alike took great pleasure in talking to me, and laughing at the colored light that emerged from my mouth as I talked. It was contagious; I found reasons to talk to people even as my throat began to cool, eventually leaving behind nothing but burns. (And no damage to the throat chakra. Have I mentioned that my chakra were durable, as I was?)
What it was, was stained. It took me about half a pail of water to wash my throat out, but my voicebox remained numb. The front of my throat felt like I’d poured boiling oil down it and the dead tissue would peel later.
It was, perhaps, because of this distraction that I didn’t notice him. Green of skin, with just the faintest hint of brown. Black of hair, tied back in a greasy braid. At first, I mistook him for...
“Narces?” I asked.
“Xeno.” he replied. “Have you heard my name before?”
“Narces’ younger brother.” I said. “The Axemaster.”
His grin broadened, became something I associated with hostility. “Come. Let us spar. Let us understand each other as only warriors do.”
[No social classes detected.] my reticule informed me.
“Let us first make certain the Kamajeen understand.” I said. “It would not do for them to think either of us had breached hospitality.”
He snorted, but then waved his hand. “The nearest guardian type is back this way.”
“Oh.” she said. “Death duels. We have the same in our culture. Just keep it twenty paces from any tent. I recommend the scrub brush over there.”
“It’s not a death duel.” I said. “At least not on my end.”
“I promise nothing.” Xeno said. “To truly know a person’s character, you must truly battle them.”
I sighed. “This is from the younger side of younger brother.”
He had an axe, if the term still applies, that was nearly the size a minotaur would wield. It was one of those curve and hook blades, that just look like the smith had an extra length of steel they didn’t know what to do with. A double blade might have been impractical, but honestly it would have looked better with that.
“My brother says you get more protection out of a metal plate than most people get from a proper shield. Come! Show me one of your few redeeming traits!”
In spite of his words, he was upon me almost before I finished adjusting the straps. Yes, the straps to my wooden shield. Axes are designed to break through wood; I had to be careful of the angle as I blocked.
“Double Attack!” he called out.
“Multiple Block!” I countered.
“I Spit in Your Eye!” he used next.
“Aaaah!” I shouted. “Who DOES that?”
“I do, for one.” he said, taking a board’s width off the left of my shield. “Leg Sweep!”
“Counter Trip!”
“Counter... Stable Stance!” he said, wavering but not falling. “Whirling Death!”
“My Shield is My Life!”
I let him chase me around a little bit, while I got another shield properly seated. A word of advice; don’t. In a genuine combat, Xeno would have taken a limb first, and then my life.
“Your skill is formidable.” he said, “But your Arminger abilities are lacking. “Four-fold Edge!”
“Stalwart Stance! Shield Wall!”
Another thing not to do, and another evasion, this one a downhill roll, to equip another shield.
“Ha! Too easy!” he said, leaping into the air. “Bounding Hack!”
“Vanity Block!” I responded.
“What the crap was THAT nonsense?” he asked, attacking in looping strikes.
I shrugged, landing a blow with my blade that he mostly just ignored. “Nonsense that keeps me fighting.”
“Gyah!” he yelled, “Gyah!” striking with each exclamation.
[Your health is 136/160.]
Huh, I was doing better than I had any right to be.
???????????????? ???????????????????????????? ???????????????????????? ???????????????????? ???????? ????????????????????-????????????.????????????
“Are you SURE you’re fighting at your best?” I asked.
“Thought you’d never notice. Try this: Mighty Strokes!”
Merciful.
Gods.
I mean, Guur hit harder than Xeno did, but his best level did twenty four base damage. Base. It didn’t take long after that.
The remains of the fourth of six shields hanging from my arm, I held out the other hand. He stopped his blade, exactly cutting the flesh between fingers.
“Is that it?” he huffed. “Are you already at half?”
“I yield.” I said. “Half health.”
He spun his axe twice, clearing it of blood before putting it back into his inventory. He shook his loose mane of hair, the cloth hair tie having become split during our match. And then, he fell onto his butt. “Ah, most... excuse me.” he spat out half a mouthful of blood, “Most invigorating.”
Cheers went up from the Kamajeen, who had assembled to watch. If they noticed how he stumbled a bit as he waved a hand in the air, or how his heavy breaths were laced with mist, they did not mention it. Xeno was their champion, and they bathed him in glory.
I had another matter to attend to. For all of my lack of formal training...
[You have gained level one in the military class: Arminger. You have received ten development points.]
There were a plethora of abilities that unlocked, not all of them obviously linked. And none were great improvements over what I already had. But... put enough small improvements together and the result is something worth having.
It was just a matter of time and development points. Or properly gathered XP in the right areas. I stumbled, and cannot claim it was just because of the words in my vision.
I pulled loose a broken tooth, and then another. Two days, tops, before the new teeth had rotated into position. I was down over ninety health, enough to knock younger me unconscious three times over.
“Bwa ha!” Xeno laughed. “Come! I can’t eat and drink all of this by myself. My belly would burst open.”
My tendons ached; I’d two [Muscle Tear]s, a [Cracked Skull], and the first [Concussion] of my new body. “Ugh. So I lived up to expectations?”
“Well,” he said, “clearly you at least lived.” He rotated his shoulder. “And I don’t mind admitting it’s been a while since I’ve taken such injuries. Honestly, it’s been a while since Hortiluk was wrong about someone’s abilities.”
“Hortiluk?” I asked. “You’re with Hortiluk?”
“You as well.” he said, “To the extent any of us are WITH that skurrl. I’m just another expendable tool in his artworks.” He spat. “Politics and whispers, rumor and reputation. I value none of what he is or does, and yet I still end up serving him more often than not.”
In spite of myself, I did respect Hortiluk, who still bore the title ‘Voice of Rakkal’. He was still a pustule filled with lies, fears, and other dark things.
What was the saying? He’s a lying snake, but he’s on our side?
“I am not among his greatest admirers, but Rakkal treasures him.” I finally said.
“And when Rakkal no longer treasures him?” Xeno asked.
“I’m not getting in Rakkal’s way.” I said. “If I can keep one or two blades off his back while he finishes Hortiluk with his bare hands, I think that will be enough.”
“Bold words,” Xeno said, “since you don’t know how I feel on the subject.”
I flicked a scale loose from a rent in my mail. “We just finished fighting.” I said, “I know enough to trust you.”
“For someone who hides so well behind a shield, you are remarkably bold.”
Yes, that’s an actual piece of armor. It’s the mail that sits under your helmet, down to your shoulders.
Internal sunburns are the worst type.
Yes, that’s another sin ability, enhanced exactly the way it sounds.
515 Camp KamajeenThere were other incidents, of course.Children playing at archery, one of whom struck an arrow off my coif. A woman throwing out boiling water, who claimed not to have seen me.An aggressive dog, setting itself in my path and barking at me. My mouth was salivating by the time the owner's son called it off.But not one of them could be proven as a breach of hospitality, at least not by my System. As such, I might as well have been chained to my tent. A tent, incidentally, that was extremely hard to set up alone, five feet tall or not.In the end, I had to nail down one half of the tent, set the central pole up with a slant, and then nail down the other side. Two iterations of this, and it was a fit place to live. Inside of this, I set up a cot, placed my knapsack I won't claim full backpack-hood for that tiny thing at one end, and the bulk of my blankets and furs upon it.A quick condition check revealed that two of the furs were running out of Condition. I did what I could with my sewing kit, but leather-work is not sewing.In time, I stretched out between the layers. Say what you will about spring, but the warmer temperatures of the summer are my favorite. I wondered, idly, whether those layers of cloth counted as armor before moving my actual armor, piece by piece, into my inventory.I slept well and soundly, and knife free. When the sun pried its way into my eyes, I tried to tap it. NEVER try tapping energy when you're still partially asleep! The energy caught around my throat the fifth chakram, shining through the skin......Children and adults alike took great pleasure in talking to me, and laughing at the colored light that emerged from my mouth as I talked. It was contagious; I found reasons to talk to people even as my throat began to cool, eventually leaving behind nothing but burns. And no damage to the throat chakra. Have I mentioned that my chakra were durable, as I was?What it was, was stained. It took me about half a pail of water to wash my throat out, but my voicebox remained numb. The front of my throat felt like I'd poured boiling oil down it and the dead tissue would peel later. It was, perhaps, because of this distraction that I didn't notice him. Green of skin, with just the faintest hint of brown. Black of hair, tied back in a greasy braid. At first, I mistook him for...Narces? I asked.Xeno. he replied. Have you heard my name before?Narces' younger brother. I said. The Axemaster.His grin broadened, became something I associated with hostility. Come. Let us spar. Let us understand each other as only warriors do.No social classes detected. my reticule informed me.Let us first make certain the Kamajeen understand. I said. It would not do for them to think either of us had breached hospitality.He snorted, but then waved his hand. The nearest guardian type is back this way.Oh. she said. Death duels. We have the same in our culture. Just keep it twenty paces from any tent. I recommend the scrub brush over there.It's not a death duel. I said. At least not on my end.I promise nothing. Xeno said. To truly know a person's character, you must truly battle them.I sighed. This is from the younger side of younger brother.He had an axe, if the term still applies, that was nearly the size a minotaur would wield. It was one of those curve and hook blades, that just look like the smith had an extra length of steel they didn't know what to do with. A double blade might have been impractical, but honestly it would have looked better with that.My brother says you get more protection out of a metal plate than most people get from a proper shield. Come! Show me one of your few redeeming traits!In spite of his words, he was upon me almost before I finished adjusting the straps. Yes, the straps to my wooden shield. Axes are designed to break through wood; I had to be careful of the angle as I blocked.Double Attack! he called out.Multiple Block! I countered.I Spit in Your Eye! he used next.Aaaah! I shouted. Who DOES that?I do, for one. he said, taking a board's width off the left of my shield. Leg Sweep!Counter Trip!Counter... Stable Stance! he said, wavering but not falling. Whirling Death!My Shield is My Life!I let him chase me around a little bit, while I got another shield properly seated. A word of advice; don't. In a genuine combat, Xeno would have taken a limb first, and then my life.Your skill is formidable. he said, But your Arminger abilities are lacking. Four-fold Edge!Stalwart Stance! Shield Wall!Another thing not to do, and another evasion, this one a downhill roll, to equip another shield.Ha! Too easy! he said, leaping into the air. Bounding Hack!Vanity Block! I responded. What the crap was THAT nonsense? he asked, attacking in looping strikes.I shrugged, landing a blow with my blade that he mostly just ignored. Nonsense that keeps me fighting.Gyah! he yelled, Gyah! striking with each exclamation.Your health is 136/160.Huh, I was doing better than I had any right to be. ???????????????? ???????????????????????????? ???????????????????????? ???????????????????? ???????? ????????????????????-????????????.???????????? Are you SURE you're fighting at your best? I asked.Thought you'd never notice. Try this: Mighty Strokes!Merciful.Gods.I mean, Guur hit harder than Xeno did, but his best level did twenty four base damage. Base. It didn't take long after that.The remains of the fourth of six shields hanging from my arm, I held out the other hand. He stopped his blade, exactly cutting the flesh between fingers.Is that it? he huffed. Are you already at half?I yield. I said. Half health.He spun his axe twice, clearing it of blood before putting it back into his inventory. He shook his loose mane of hair, the cloth hair tie having become split during our match. And then, he fell onto his butt. Ah, most... excuse me. he spat out half a mouthful of blood, Most invigorating.Cheers went up from the Kamajeen, who had assembled to watch. If they noticed how he stumbled a bit as he waved a hand in the air, or how his heavy breaths were laced with mist, they did not mention it. Xeno was their champion, and they bathed him in glory.I had another matter to attend to. For all of my lack of formal training...You have gained level one in the military class: Arminger. You have received ten development points.There were a plethora of abilities that unlocked, not all of them obviously linked. And none were great improvements over what I already had. But... put enough small improvements together and the result is something worth having.It was just a matter of time and development points. Or properly gathered XP in the right areas. I stumbled, and cannot claim it was just because of the words in my vision.I pulled loose a broken tooth, and then another. Two days, tops, before the new teeth had rotated into position. I was down over ninety health, enough to knock younger me unconscious three times over.Bwa ha! Xeno laughed. Come! I can't eat and drink all of this by myself. My belly would burst open.My tendons ached; I'd two Muscle Tears, a Cracked Skull, and the first Concussion of my new body. Ugh. So I lived up to expectations?Well, he said, clearly you at least lived. He rotated his shoulder. And I don't mind admitting it's been a while since I've taken such injuries. Honestly, it's been a while since Hortiluk was wrong about someone's abilities.Hortiluk? I asked. You're with Hortiluk?You as well. he said, To the extent any of us are WITH that skurrl. I'm just another expendable tool in his artworks. He spat. Politics and whispers, rumor and reputation. I value none of what he is or does, and yet I still end up serving him more often than not.In spite of myself, I did respect Hortiluk, who still bore the title Voice of Rakkal'. He was still a pustule filled with lies, fears, and other dark things.What was the saying? He's a lying snake, but he's on our side?I am not among his greatest admirers, but Rakkal treasures him. I finally said.And when Rakkal no longer treasures him? Xeno asked.I'm not getting in Rakkal's way. I said. If I can keep one or two blades off his back while he finishes Hortiluk with his bare hands, I think that will be enough.Bold words, Xeno said, since you don't know how I feel on the subject.I flicked a scale loose from a rent in my mail. We just finished fighting. I said, I know enough to trust you.For someone who hides so well behind a shield, you are remarkably bold. Yes, that's an actual piece of armor. It's the mail that sits under your helmet, down to your shoulders. Internal sunburns are the worst type. Yes, that's another sin ability, enhanced exactly the way it sounds.
