It was a fine day today. There weren't any things that were actively trying to kill us, and I think that's possibly one of the few moment we'll ever get any form of peace and quiet in this sort of world.
All our supplies were stocked up, and we had more than enough well-flavored smoked gator meat to go for a long while.
And with all that said, there was just one simple little issue. There were tracks around the little clearing we were camping in, or more specifically, around our tree.
They weren't our deer friend's, so that means that there was something stalking us. It was a rather sizable paw print, and I just couldn't help but want to scream from frustration of what the tracks were.
Bears, fucking bears. The shape and indents in the dirt showed that they were either some oddly-sized bears with a little bit of weight to them, or they were just as, if not, smarter than out little friend.
Great, just spectacular. I have to deal with little xenophagic elf kid, a psychic deer that has gravity on its side, and a stealthy bear that I assume is just as deadly as the deer.
It was a single set of prints, which is nice, until I realized that they could also be as smart enough to step in the same prints of each other and act like there was only one.
Seeing as how I'm starting to sound like a paranoid schizophrenic, it's very obvious that this situation has me on edge. I don't have any other tools aside from the basic weapons, and the kid, while she is a crackshot, is a bit aloof since she listens to me all too often.
Should I bring her into the fold of battle when it gets rough for me? If it was rough for me when I'm a lone fighter that has about two lives everyday and have the tenacity to keep pushing forward despite me having limbs missing and the pain wracking my mind like a spiked ball, then calling the elf CHILD really shouldn't be counted as an option.
Just because it's more numbers and a wider variety of attacks to pull off, with numerous strategies that could be formulated within the battle itself, does not mean I will take the risk of seeing the one single possible chance of me having a good subordinate getting killed in an instant because I didn't account for a stray pebble that she slipped on.
It's bad for business. And speaking of business, I was making a little temporary shack again, which was rather faster than the other one, due to me having a lot less of a pain to have to strip logs into planks.
Why? Because this wasn't just any shack, oh no, this was a shack in the trees! The kid was watching from afar as she snacked on a cut of the smokey and slightly fish-like taste of gator meat while I did my best to hammer in wood chips to act as nails for some of the more precarious areas.
It spanned across two trees, with me making sure that it was supported by branches that seems thick enough to handle some weight.
There wasn't that much waste to deal with at the same time, more or less it was a rather cozy little shelter for me and the kid to keep our things in and have a roof over our heads if it rained.
There were some indents in the tree that I cut out for the sake of using as steps. It took me days to get a good enough surface area, and about more than ten trees to get the wood necessary to make this place.
"Finished, old man?"
The kid just asked me a question as I wiped off the sweat from my body with an old shirt that was worn by a dead me a couple days back.
"More or less, lass. I suppose this'll do for the meantime. I don't want to see you or myself get sick from a cold if a storm pours in?"
She nodded as I was relieved that all of the lessons that I was giving her were still being retained in her head. And then it made sense that she was the kind of child that could retain memories from times long past, for who knows how long.
I was certain that she would betray me when she feels that I wasn't someone to be trusted anymore. I wouldn't blame her either, I was a bastard through and through, but I had some sensibilities.
"Hand me some of the good meat, will you?"
It was a simple little chore she had and she did good on it, giving me a decently sized cut to satiate the hunger I built up from the manual labor.
I savored the strong flavours that were prominent with the gator meat, which was very dry, but I kept chewing until I could swallow the meat cud that I was essentially making. But unlike real cud this stayed down the first time.
I felt a warm feeling go through me as I pulled out my little notebook and began to try and draw up some plans. Simply put this forest, while it does offer some higher degrees of choice and resources compared to the skeleton tree's clearing, it wasn't exactly all that stellar, since those same resources were afforded to the other denizens of this area.
I wasn't much of a gambler, but this, this was risky even in my eyes.
The first thing on the list was to map out a territory that we would keep for the time being. The second was to ensure that we could control this territory. And the third, which was more than simple, was to strip it of it's resources as efficiently as possible.
The kid was simply just confused about why I was drawing up these plans, and so her confusion blossomed into curiosity and asked me.
It was a succinct answer from me all the same.
"To live. Living is a pretty good goal in this world, thriving can only really occur when we're in a position where living is trivial. Then, and only then, can we think of other things."
She didn't really seem to care all that much for my answer, which I myself found a tad silly, and so I continued to work on getting the surroundings decent enough for me to make a good little wall.
Silly isn't it? Here I constantly try to find a place where I could call a home, and yet circumstances always show up to make itself become another blip in the long line of hovels I would set up shop in.
I know, it's a tad melodramatic for me to be acting like that despite only leaving an area once, but can you possibly ever blame me for it? Well, yes you could, but my reasons aren't unfounded.
The child kept looking as I took my break for the day by walking out of the tree and perhaps giving my legs a little shock to wake them up. It was a bit of an uncomfortable landing, but it wasn't a terrible one at that.
The deer was still in the middle of the clearing, while the smoker went unused off to the side. I put my hand on my chin and tried to get a good idea of what I could use to make the place look decent.
I had "bricks" that could handle decent heat, and planks. If anything I was prepared to make myself a rustic and proper home. Doubt was filling my head as I shook it off. Pessimism in the wrong times wasn't a good thing, and right now was the wrong time.
Sure we may have to deal with a possible bear attack in the upcoming weeks, and I may have to deal with the possibility of dying in this world permanently, which could mean that my soul would be subsumed by the infinite void or whatever would occur to me, should I fail the contract.
It was a contract, and it was either life in prison, or more chances to make violence my core doctrine. The latter seemed better at the time. The kid was still in the tree, eating away at the pieces of meat that seemed to be going off, which concerned me for a moment, until she kept eating with even more gusto.
My case? Checked up on any bricks that seemed to be good for building. I liked the concept of fantasy worlds with beautiful architecture, but would it be good to truly rip this world apart and hand it over to a goddess that serves an "emperor"?
If anything, despite this being a contractual thing, it would make sense for me to try and possibly get rid of them. Or not? The choice is shit. God I really do off-topic often don't I? Where were we, ah yes, the bricks! They were drying rather well, and soon enough I could make some more little structures to work with.
As for the planks, well, anything that seemed to be a good enough size was left to also dry out in the sun, while the sawdust and wood chips either went into the fire, or were spread around the ground to be broken down again by the earth and returned to the natural cycle.
I had ideas for making my own rope, but the local trees weren't exactly the sort of material good enough for them. The deer didn't seem all that interested, which I wouldn't blame it.
It was a deer after all.
At this point, I felt like I should've getting back to work again. My hands were starting to get stronger, and so was my body. It wasn't getting leaner by any accounts, but it proved inconsequential when I could carry three logs of wood in one arm.
I must've underestimated the way that the strength worked. I had some really interesting ideas for how I could continue to gain more strength. My speed wasn't exactly something to scoff at either.
It was good, not exactly like a speedster or even a motorcycle, but it was rather good to be able to trek through the branches like that one ninja show.
I can still hear the theme songs even to this day whenever I think of it. The strangest thing that I've realized is that my teeth, which had indents in them, actually had purpose for why they had them.
I forgot to spar with the kid one time and felt like I wasted a life for skipping out on our daily slaughter routine, but when I woke up and walked to the pond to wash my face, when I opened my mouth, I noticed that one indent was filled in with a red gem.
I blinked and tried to clean my face thoroughly, but I opened my mouth again and it was still there. It was a very very odd little occurrence. I let my left hand become clawed as I scratched at the gem.
It didn't even seem to scratched, but it sounded shrill when I did. I cringed from the sound and wondered what was it. A few days later, I accidentally fell off the tree after we did our slaughter and panicked that I was going to die from my head hitting a rock again.
When I did come to, I woke up and saw my dead body, with the gem in its mouth completely gray and starting to become like stone.
I tried to feel where the gem should have been in the same position, but there wasn't anything there, the indent was empty, and it was a spark that almost gave me true euphoria.
I could save up lives. And I had more teeth now, so that meant that I could save up certain days where I didn't die to ensure that I had multiple retries in a day where I felt like it would be worth it. I kissed the kid on the cheek and smiled like an idiot.
She didn't really understand what I went through so I kept up and almost shed a tear that I had another card within my arsenal.
Right now, I had about thirteen extra lives, and at about any moment, they could be lost for whatever asinine reason. And I don't intend for the reason why I lose them to be asinine, if I was going to risk my lives, I will risk them in a scenario where they would he more than worth it.
But for now, I was still in the clearing, and still an old man with some degree of power. I wasn't going to completely delude myself that I was going to win in every single fight.
No, I was going to delude myself that every fight is one that I'll die in, and I'll do whatever it takes to ensure that whoever or whatever it is, it'll either be dead, or incapacitated enough for me to kill later.
And I know, death and death as the only options is stupid, that's why I have seven more options that I won't show off. Why seven specifically? Good question. Not going to answer it. I walked over to the smoker and cleaned it a bit before I added some extra firewood for it to work with.
Whatever these trees were, their flavor was impeccable when it went into the meat. Plus they were strong. The deer heard me working a little as it blinked a couple ties before lowering it's head to rest again.
It and I were more than certain that the little one would want to play with it again, so rest it shall, for a new "battle" shall commence every day.
.
.
/Draemorian Guard Squad I/
The attack on the citadel was a catastrophe that would be sung for generations, that is if there would be anything left after the demon lord ever left enough of it for there to be people.
The only way to make it even worse was if the great metal creatures ever returned to flay our lands asunder once again. Me and Axilius were the patrol for the night above the remains of the citadel.
The great church of the Bloody Immortal was little more than rubble and a broken receptacle. The plaza was littered with the blood of both human and metal beast, with the few survivors within there being taken from the dark plague that the metal monsters left when they injure others.
I write this journal to document my thoughts and what I saw. The inquisition would redact and silence as much of the attack to keep up the morale within the lands Draemor for the sake of a future battle.
It's just madness is all it is. First there's the merchants all banding together to make their own guild, then we have word about an army of the demon lord coming straight for us. After we lost most of the able-bodied men, we were picked apart even further by the metal creatures.
I would pray, but remembering what would do to this citadel again made me belay it. I named this entry calling it the words of a squad, in truth, it's the words of what remains of me and my brethren.
I must leave now, there is nothing left for me here, and I intend to make sure that Axilius doesn't lag behind to try and help who are left. They have been marked now, and this citadel will fall like all the others in due time.