Chapter 3 - Chapter 3

The first cracks of dawn had come, waking Floris from his nap as the sunlight shined in his eyes. He slowly blinked his eyes open and stretched his arms and legs as he yawned exhaustedly. Part of him wanted to stay in bed after being up so late the previous night, but that wasn't an option. Not only was he low on alchemical supplies, but the village was also running low on food. The place he was going, Arrowhead Loch, was a good hunting place since herds of deer often roamed around there. However, it was also one of the more dangerous places that he knew of in the swamp. Animals there ranged from harmless deer to poisonous frogs, Swamp Lizards, Rainbow Snakes, Swamp Boars, and other aggressive animals. He preferred going alone since he only had himself to worry about, but there are times it pays to have an extra set of eyes and some stronger senses.

He climbed out of bed and opened the chest next to his bed. Inside, he collected his leather armor. His boots and grieves were made from Swamp Lizard hide, which was a valuable skin that was thick enough it would block snake bites. Snakes who bit at his legs often broke their fangs because of the thick natural armor Swamp Lizard skin provided. His torso and chest armor was made out of Swamp Boar hide. It was lighter than the lizard skin, but it still offered enough protection from insects or snakes in the trees. Boar hide was thick enough to stop fangs from piercing Floris' skin and had proven invaluable a number of times. His gauntlets were also made from boar hide but of a lighter density. He needed his fingers to be able to move freely while harvesting herbs in the swamp and having bulky gloves made his job more difficult than it needed to be. He wore a thin layer of skin over his underarms but left a thick layer of leather over the tops of his arms. This offered minimal protection, but if something were to bite him, they'd only get to his lower arms. Finally, for his headgear, he wore a dark brown hooded cloak with a scarf wrapped around his face. Many plants in the swamp released highly toxic and deadly fumes or gasses into the air. The scarf helped prevent him from breathing in these fumes and the big glasses he wore protected his eyes from snakes spitting venom at him, or plants shooting shrapnel at him. Some plants would spit thorns or needles at whatever came to close and if one were not cautious enough, they could easily take out an eye.

With his armor on, Floris started going through his utilities. He wore a number of belts around his waist and shoulders, each one having numerous slots for him to slip potions or poisons into. The belts going over his shoulders contained medicinal potions in the event he got hurt somehow, while the belt going around his waist carried poisons he could put on his arrows.

On both hips, he kept a large pouch where he stored any spare potions he may need. On his back, he carried a large backpack where he housed any rodents he might have caught for either experimentation or feeding his snakes. He also wore a quiver that held fifty arrows horizontally below his backpack. Arrows were made by the village's Fletcher while his wife made most of the bows. Arrows took time and patience to make, but only Floris and one other person from the village were permitted to hunt.

Most of the villagers were elders in the twilight years of their lives. The only more middle-aged people were Floris' parents who left shortly after his birth. His Grandmother would tell him stories about his parents from time to time, but he had no recollection of them. Villagers would sometimes ask if he had any desire to meet them, but Floris would only shake his head.

Most people in a position like Floris would probably relish at the thought of seeing their parents for the first time. But the truth of the matter was he stopped caring a long time ago. The stories he had been told about them never added up. One day, they were sent to fight in the wars far to the south. The next, it was something else. But there was one thing that was a given: they weren't coming back, and the chances of Floris ever meeting them were slim to none. He simply didn't have the time to wonder if he'd ever meet them and constantly had to keep his mind on his tasks at hand.

With his gear collected, his bow slipped over his shoulder, his scarf covering his face, and his hood covering his eyes, Floris double-checked his supplies and grabbed a long wooden spear he used as his walking stick. Spears were useful for attacking or defending from range and this was one Floris made himself. The wood he used was strong and sturdy, but he used sharpened stones as the tip, making it the most lethal spear in the village. It was eight feet in length, yet was fairly light in weight, making it easy to carry around or fight with.

Once he was sure he had everything he needed, he made his way for the door and stepped into the outside world.