Gifted

Sweat poured off me as I hung one arm over the fence to the goat enclosure. With lips flapping about, the ornery animal kept attempting to take a bite out of my shirt while I tried to recover from the sparring.

Griselda hauled over a bucket of water, which she was already drinking from, before offering it to me. My face plunged into the cool water as I gulped down the sweet nectar. Nazim was nearby, moving through sword forms using his steel blade as he waited for us to finish up. While I had sparred with Griselda, the wolfkin had alternated between doing his own practice and throwing rocks at me.

The stones hadn’t been that big, but they stung when they hit. Still, it was teaching me to be more aware of my surroundings, and I had successfully dodged about half. It would’ve been more, but Nazim would randomly stop throwing them to focus on his sword work, only to start pelting me with the pebbles when I least expected it. Proof I wasn’t the only sneaky shit around here.

Griselda finished taking another big drink from the water bucket before casually pouring the remains into the trough for the goats. With the ornery bastard distracted for a second, I reclaimed what remained of my shirt and stepped farther away from the fence.

During the last year-and-a-half, the small homestead had grown to over triple the size. The mountain was no good for cows, but goats and sheep fared well enough. The pigs were furry and fat, suited to surviving the cold, though their pen stunk to the high heavens. Griselda had wisely positioned them the farthest from the house.

The chicken pen was the largest, with Griselda now supplying almost a quarter of the eggs and poultry to the town. To keep out predators, Martin had managed to make metal wire from what looked like iron, which was woven into a net over the entire coop and bolted into a literal wooden door frame that was hammered into the ground. Every time I saw the door, I thought it looked like a door to nowhere.

Griselda hadn’t changed much in that same timeframe. She was still a pillar of strength, muscled with pale green skin and a slightly pronounced jaw. Even her clothing hadn’t changed, and I bet she still had hers made by Kaylee or Lucille. Today, it was a sturdy grey woolen shirt and black pants which were tucked into her fur-trimmed, leather boots.

“Lunch and then we go again?” I asked.

Griselda shook her head. “I need to go hunting.”

I perked up. “What for?”

“Martin saw signs of a Horndale bear on his trail up to his mine. The new hunters do not come out our way very often. It makes me miss Hurin. He said little, but did much. A good man. If I can find it and kill it, then Martin will be able to head back to his mine. Also, Cornelius tells me the festival your new Baron wants to host is a celebration and that people often give gifts to those they care about at such a time. If we find the bear, then I will kill it and give it to Kaylee to make a fearsome coat for Martin.”

Gifts at festivals? I thought. Mum and Gramps didn’t tell me that! Were they going to surprise me? Well, now they’re going to be the ones surprised! Ha!

I tucked my plans away to be revisited after we returned to the outpost. For now, I had something else on my mind.

“Can I come?” I asked.

“On the hunt?” Griselda replied, her posture shifting to one of uncertainty.

I nodded vigorously. My half-orc mentor’s eyes moved over to Nazim.

“Can he?”

Nazim tucked his sword away. “If we will not disturb you, yes. I’ll keep an eye on him. Perhaps he’ll learn something.”

After eating a quick meal of cold meat wrapped in flatbread, Griselda grabbed a stout wooden shield braced with metal, a few knives of varying lengths, a large axe that I thought should take two hands to wield, and her hatchet. Then we were off and heading north.

The trail we walked led from behind Griselda and Martin’s house, through a short stint of forest, before it hit a rocky ridge. Hugging the ridge led us on an upward angle and, before I knew it, I was scrambling up small inclines. Neither Nazim nor Griselda moved to help me, which I took as either them trying to push me or simply trusting me to have it handled.

Either way, it wasn’t too hard for me to climb up the scree. Any time I encountered a challenge, I would just use Controlled Grip to improve my already-enhanced strength and scale the stones like a mountainous little monkey.

The view, as we got higher and higher, shifted from beautiful to incredible. The mountains stretched away on both sides, providing a vista of the Horndales that I hadn’t managed to get from the roof of the outpost.

This was it. This was what I wanted. Venturing out into the world, seeing beautiful sights, challenging myself, and going to places that few people went — all the while having my numbers go up so that I could follow how much I was growing.

Griselda paused at seeing my expression. “It is a nice view, isn’t it? There is nothing like this on the Ravi Plains. It is flat as far as the eye can see, the grass yellow like your wheat. It is the nights we cherished on the plains. No clouds and the stars stretching across the world like a…”

“Sparkling,” I suggested.

“Yes, sparkling blanket covering everything. Sometimes I miss that sky. But this is good too. Different, but still beautiful.” She gave a small smile then nodded her head further up the path. “Come, we can take in the sights on the way home when we have more time.”

I fell back in line with Griselda in front of me and Nazim behind. We hiked for about a quarter of a candle before Nazim called us to a stop as he sniffed at the air.

“I smell the bear,” he confirmed. “Old smell and new. It has passed by here more than once.”

He sniffed a few more times, turning first one way and then the other.

“Four times,” he confirmed. “Martin is right to be concerned. I think it has his scent and has been checking for him. Either that or it has set up its den nearby.”

Griselda reached for her hatchet. “Which way?”

Nazim pointed. Unsurprisingly, we had to go down rather than up. Descending down the side of the ridge was far harder than the trail we had been following, but even I could see the signs of claw marks on the stone where something had climbed up to the path above. For the first time, my stomach dipped a little. The spacing of the claw marks had the paw size as bigger than my chest. Maybe this hadn’t been such a great idea after all?

I tamped down on the part of me that was worried and reminded myself that only the foolish or insane felt no fear. Adventure, and wading into the unknown, meant being courageous. I just needed to temper my courage with caution and preparation. This was just me getting in some early practice.

The descent was over ten metres, but we finally planted our feet against hard soil with shrubs and roots woven through it. A few Horndale pines that were growing lower down the slope had their canopy just above our heads. While the footing was a little treacherous, it was navigable and, at Nazim’s direction, we continued farther north until the ground flattened out a little.

“We’re getting close to its den,” Nazim warned.

Griselda paused, pulling her shield from her back. She took the time to carefully strap it to her left arm before passing her hatchet across to her left hand. Then, she reached behind her for her axe. The haft was as long as her arm, and the blade was thick and heavy. I thought it would be unwieldy, but the half-orc woman didn’t seem to have any issues giving it a few test swings. Then, with a nod to us, she stalked forward.

I drifted a bit farther back, staying closer to the wolfkin. I had come to observe, not to get turned into a bloody mess by a bear that was probably big enough to eat me in a few bites.

My preparation proved wise a moment later as a bass huffing echoed down the mountainside. The hulking form of our quarry lumbered out from somewhere up ahead of us. Whether it had smelled us or was already leaving what, I presumed, was its den, I didn’t know.

The Horndale bear was massive, its back sitting at the same height as the top of Griselda’s head even though the beast was still down on all fours. Its coat was a ruddy brown reminiscent of my own hair and its paws were massive, easily large enough to encompass half my body — just as I had suspected.

There was no roar of challenge. Just huffing like a bellows and the quiet but firm footsteps of Griselda as she stalked forward. I didn’t even notice that Nazim had moved forward till he was slightly in front of me, his hand on his sword.

The bear reared up on its hind legs, growling as it towered over Griselda. Then she was moving. She was fast as she closed the final distance, swinging with her axe at the upper half of one of the bear’s rear legs. The bear bellowed in anger as a thin line of blood dripped down from where she had struck.

My mouth grew dry at the sight. I had a pretty good idea of just how strong Griselda was. Yet, with a single strike from her axe, she had only managed to inflict a small wound on the gigantic bear.

Just how tough is it? I wondered. It has to be an Advanced Attribute, right?

My thoughts were interrupted as the bear took a swipe at Griselda. My mentor managed to dodge, rolling away and keeping her shield between her and the beast. Instead, it struck stone, causing slivers of rock to shoot in every direction from the impact that echoed across the mountains.

My hands went up by instinct to protect my face, but when I glanced past them, I saw that Nazim had shifted in front of me to shield me from the spray. With another smooth movement, he stepped out of the way so I could continue to watch the battle.

Griselda had used the moment to score another cut across the bear’s flank, this one bleeding a similar amount to the first. The beast was clearly stronger and tougher than the half-orc, and I grew a little worried. Since Stats multiplied what a creature’s natural capabilities were, I supposed I shouldn’t have been surprised that a huge, hulking bear might get more per Stats in Strength and Stamina than a humanoid. Still, even knowing that, the visual proof was surprising to me. Yet neither Griselda nor Nazim seemed worried. I drew on their strength and experience, crouching down to observe and learn.

The battle continued with a similar repetition, the back and forth captivating as it was frightening. A part of me whispered that one day that could be me, and excitement overshadowed the nascent fears I felt.

Griselda carefully picked her moments as she slowly inflicted more and more small wounds on the bear. Not once did it take an interest in Nazim or I, too focused on the enemy that kept hurting it. I took note of how Griselda was taking the beast down. She never once overcommitted, always sliding into the gaps the beast left and avoiding being cornered. A battle of attrition against a greater foe.

Everything seemed to be going fine right up until I felt a buzzing from the beast. A sense of imminent danger filled the air as the blood dribbling from the bear’s wounds suddenly stopped. Rearing up once more, the enraged bear roared at Griselda.

Without thinking, I began to step forward to shout a warning when Nazim’s pawed hand landed on my shoulder.

“She knows what she is doing. Watch.”

The bear stomped forward, suddenly faster. I lost sight of Griselda behind its titanic body. A second buzzing filled my senses, smaller but more powerful. My heart was beating so fast I thought it would escape my chest as I watched the bear throw its body down at the ground. The impact sent rocks shooting away like a miniature meteor had just crashed into the mountainside. Vibrations travelled through my feet from the impact. Griselda moved out of the way of the blast so fast that I thought if I blinked I would’ve missed it.

The bear tried again, rearing up and crashing down where Griselda now stood. I did miss it this time when she moved as I fought to stabilise my footing on the rumbling ground. The bear’s third attempt felt far less powerful with the large buzzing of aether coming from the beast quickly fading — its wounds bleeding once more in a faster torrent than before.

It huffed as though tired, worn out from whatever it had done. As it stepped forward, Griselda moved one last time, her speed once more just within the realm of what I could follow. Earlier in the fight, I thought the bear would’ve been fast enough to react. Now, it barely moved its head in response. Aether gathered in Griselda’s arm — a different buzzing in my senses. Then the axe was descending, carving a furrow into the side of the mountain as the bear collapsed. Its severed head rolled once before settling, blood pouring from the gaping wound left behind.