'Breathe in. Hold. Stifle it.'
My body obeys my mental commands to the T, understanding my situation was life or death. To keep absolutely still was the goal—to the point that blinking was a non-option.
'Burning.'
My eyes were burning, but they kept absolutely rigid, looking forward at the demonic figure. His burning eyes remain steady on me as I feel the ground quake once more. The sand under my feet starts to shake and disperse once more, vibrating to an oscillating frequency, yet I stayed still as stone.
"..."
*Blink.*
FWOOMPH!
The crater exploded once more, and the figure was gone, along with the tense atmosphere it carried with it. It seemed as if the oxygen in the world finally returned with the exit of the figure's presence, letting me breathe once more.
'Holy shi…– oh how fresh it feels to breathe, my gawd!'
And no, I am not being overdramatic. Like, actually, it really felt as if pressure was lifted from the surrounding area. Its difficult to describe, honestly, but that's how it is.
I look around myself, checking for anything I could have dropped. I pat my hips for my belt and pouches, making sure the knife was still there. I crawl a few feet and grab my sheath buried under the sand, and hook it back on my belt.
"Oh wait, where's the body…?"
I swivel my head around, looking for the thing I worked so damn hard to drag for miles. Finally, I caught sight of its hand dangling at the top of the dune I slid down. I start to climb up the dune to recover my hard work…
"...Oh, wait, no–! Ah!"
Only to tumble down. Embarrassingly. Multiple Times. And on the last fall, I flew as far as the edge of the crater of the figure that caused this whole ordeal. As I clear my eyes and spit out the sand threatening to choke my gullet, a faint smell wafts through the air. Something like fuel, burning. No. Like gasoline, almost. I look down into the crater, where the smell is likely coming from.
The crater runs deeper than I thought. Different layers of sediment and rock exposed, dull and faint colors peppered all the way down. Layers of crystal and glass form closer to the middle of the crater, likely from however hot that red energy was.
'Damn. What even was that stuff? It was wavy, and wispy—was it maybe a flame?'
My thought would be answered quickly though, because at the bottom of the concavity, was the source of that acrid, pungent, sharp chemical smell.
Remnants. Of the foreign energy—It was much less stronger now than before, wrapped around the figure as if it were the aura of some anime character. Still, even from where I laid, my instincts kept me on high alert, goosebumps popping up across my arms just looking at it.
It was almost mesmerizing, to a degree.
—crack.
"...What the…?!"
I tried, but I couldn't keep my mouth from being held agasp ever so slightly because of what I saw. The layer of sand and sediment that the energy laid upon… it cracked, Unprovoked.
And then.
It disappeared.
As if that section of the layer of the layer got removed from the world. What was originally a flat surface was now made an artificially uneven… what, exactly?
I don't know. And honestly, I don't care to find out.
I quickly roll away and rise to my feet. After even more struggling, I finally climb back up the dune and retrieve the hobgoblin body. With one final look at the result of my first near-death experience, I begin to drag the corpse once more.
"Lord– I do pray: let me not meet that freaky guy again~!"
—...
"And what do we have here?"
"A hobgoblin body, guard captain. Or well, part of it, I suppose."
"Any other spoils in hand?"
I give an awkward look at the guard captain outside of the main gate to [Avarnove]. I take a glance around myself, spinning in exaggeration. The guard captain only raised an eyebrow. Clearly not impressed or amused.
'Maybe I should keep it professional.'
"...No. This is all I've obtained from my hunt. I already struggle with my current ability to hunt even… this," I direct attention to the corpse with a light kick before continuing, "So, any other questions?"
I'd rather not have my time wasted anymore. Just go in, throw the corpse at the town skinner, head back to the inn and log-off.
"...these hobgoblins seem to be getting more bold lately; I think i've seen a few linger close, before scurrying back into the plains," the captain commented, pulling and scratching at their goatee.
'Ok. Guess my time IS going to be wasted, then.'
"..Mm-hm." I keep my answer curt, hopefully the obvious disinterest will stop him from talking and let me move past.
"They're smart monsters, you know?" He taps his temple, where signs of an ancient hairline used to be. "Much smarter than they appear. Excellent combatants. Understand how to use human weapons. Can carry out basic tactics and form strategies—even form communities and create a hierarchy."
Yep. No cigar.
"That so?" I reply with a minimum level of interest. "Sounds pretty cool, yeah."
"NO! Not Cool At All!" Startlingly, the captain steps into my space, mouth breathing, hot breath spreading over my face, a dull smell wafting my nose. I promptly lean back, trying my best to repress a snarl as they continue.
"These… are villainous bastards. I've seen my fellow guards– good men. Family men, surrounded by these cretins, ambushed, and pushed into the dirt. Cool? DISGUSTING!" Spittle flies out of his mouth, coating my cheek. I so wish I could throttle this grown man, but if I ever put my hands on the guy,... well, guess there'd be no point for me to keep playing the game. Unless, I wanted to wander around the desert for the rest of my playing time as a fugitive.
"Don't ever let me hear any form of compliment from your mouth again, pertaining to these bastards. Do you here me, young man!?"
'... Hoooh~~~… Breathe. Mellow. Polite smile. Certain Response. Just get past him. Vent in private.'
I repeated my mantra back to myself to calm down, before giving a hearty reply. "Yessir!"
The guard captain finally moves away, stepping back to his post. "Get going. I'm tired of you already."
"Thank you, sir!" I bow in conjunction with my exclamation.
'Go fuck yourself.'
I grab the hobgoblin and walk past the gates, free at last. I don't bother looking around [Avarnove]-- I already knew where I was going, ultimately. And, like, it's not like there was much here, anyways. It was a town in the middle of the Caeloran Wastes, the largest desert in the entirety of V.V. There was a skinner's shop on the west side, the blacksmith's shop right across; the inn I was staying at– also being the only inn in the town– was on the north side, with the crop fields right behind being fed life by the nearby oasis(and probably the chef's special liquid…); the alehouse was near the center of the town, same section that the guardhouse was in…. Go figure.
East end had the apothecary's clinic. I was a frequent visitor there, and today would be no different. Also, the general store was over in that direction. Sold general things… nothing I could live without, I would say except for the fact that there was no where else to buy goods. So, I buy whatever they have in stock… when they ARE in stock, of course.
Finally, the Town Hall and the Chapel. The chapel is on the south east end– closest to the Main Gate. First thing you see. Civitas Caelora– the country or whatever I chose to be a citizen of when i first bought V.V.-- was an incredibly religious place. Even a shitty town like Avarnove had a chapel to praise Renovare the Eternal, the patron god of Caelora. As for the town house, it was located northwest-ish, and normally empty. Avarnove's Lord rarely appeared there… shoot, I've never even seen them.
It doesn't take much longer to reach the skinner's shop. I guess that tiring conversation with the guard captain wasn't so tiring to my legs.
'Just my mind,' I can't help but think with an exhausted smirk. I pull the hobgoblin's body to the door, leaning it against the frame before I enter inside, the bell ringing as I push the door open.
When I walk inside, I'm always tempted to throw up a little in my mouth. The air itself is rancid, an iron and rust smell followed by the scent of dead carcass and fur. It makes me want to burn this place to the ground everytime. I hold my breath as I push through the smell and trudge forward to the skinner's counter. I tap the bell on the counter, and wait for the skinner to appear.
Barely any time passes, as I hear a rustle in the back of the shop, only to stop as a man walks out from the back, the drapes hanging from the doorframe leading to behind waving, curving around his impressive beer-belly. I refuse the dilly-dally and cut to the chase. "I have a monster I need you to cut up."
"So does everybody that walks in through the doorway. Where is it?" he followed up his retort with a sneer, the skin around his eyes wrinkling as he glared at me through my helmet.
'Not worth the response, ok? Not worth the response,' I repeat internally, before shuffling back to the entrance and grabbing the body; my spoils.
I drop it on his counter and ask: "Can you break this guy down for materials or anything worthwhile?" He gives a single glance at the hobgoblin's corpse, pokes at it's head just to see it bobble, and proceeds to tells me: "This one isn't even fully intact, it's gonna cost you extra for the breakdown."
'What? This fucking scammer–!'
With a strong exhale, I bite my tongue and ask "How much extra?" He responds with "Three silver pieces plus the usual price." I mutter "What?" under my breath but I once again bite my tongue. I fish through my pouch and scrounge up the pieces, dropping them into this disgusting hideous creature's hands. I walk away from the shop to finally get a breath of fresh air and let him work. 'Fucking goblin' I think as I remember I have to go see the Blacksmith.
"OK OK OK! Listen, brotha… I cannot lower my prices for you, my brotha! I have kids! Wife, house to pay! Money— I does need money; I need the moolah, my brotha! Please understand me. The price on the board is the price. Negotiations is Strong No."
"Yeah, yea, you're saying that, I get it. I have all respect for your craft, guy– I really do. But seriously… you're charging me an arm and a leg to fix the soles of my boots! C'mon…. Let's be a bit more caring, here. Charitable. What do you say?"
"I telling you, brotha! Price on board is Price! Negotiations– No! You have money or not?!"
"Price on board is… okay, yeah, alright, fine… since you're so adamant and strong about it, goodness…."
'...Why am I playing this game again? Can't I experience this exact scenario in an ethnic food market?'
Pondering whether I should unplug my headset or not, I find myself waiting in line at the blacksmith's shop; my armor is in need of serious repair all over… shoot, I even need some replacement parts here and there. Unfortunately, I was stuck behind some dude trying to haggle the shop owner.
'Mustn't be from around here, I guess,' I scratch the back of my neck in thought. Everyone in town knows that the resident blacksmith is shitty at his job, but because he's the only one in town that's been taught the trade, he's free to charge us whatever he wants. He also loves to play the sympathy card, talking about his family, the bills, etc, etc. It's how he gets you to pay three times the market rate for his abilities. Regardless, I have to deal with it, as does every other sucker in this town.
"Alright… so… I have 1 silver and 5 copper…. What can that get me, exactly?" The guy in front of me asks sheepishly.
"It can get you outta my shop brotha!!!"
"Dude, I–! Oh, lord help me…."
The two kept going back and forth for a bit longer until… well, until I got fed up honestly.
'I just want to log out at this point.' I grip hard at my visor, half-tempted to throw it at one of the two bumbling idiots in front of me.
"Alright, alright, ALRIGHT! Alriiiiight, brotha… I hear you. Really, I hear you. Ok listen, listen to me, okay? Okay, listening? How about… newcomer discount– two copper off? Good deal, no?"
'Yeah, I'm done here.'
"Uhhh, Excuse Me!" I step to the side of the poor guy in front of me, waving my hand to call attention. "What's exactly causing the hold up? Not to be rude, but some of us have places to be, and at certain times."
'And by places to be, I mean my bed. And by certain time, I mean the moment I get off of this damned game.
"Please, just… get a move on with stuff? There's people waiting in line here…" I turn around waving at the completely empty space behind me in emphasis. "Or at least, there was, until they got tired of waiting and left." Ok. Harsh. I know. But it was the end of the day. I'm not in the mood right now, sooo… hmph!
"Pleeease~ get back in line, brotha! No line breaking in my store! I ban you! I ban you if do it again! Ok? Ok." The blacksmith, red face and all, turns his face back to the customer in front of me. "Now you! I am mad now. You and you!--" The blacksmith waves a crusty fingernail at me, assigning blame to me, before continuing, "--make me very very VERY angry! No discount! I add 5 silver to prices now to both of you!!!"
"Woah, woah, what?!" I exclaim, disbelief boiling up as I step to the counter, slamming my palms down on the cracked wood. "5 Silver!? You KNOW that's the ENTIRE price of a SINGLE common-rated vambrace! Don't be ridiculous!"
"15 SILVER THEN, BROTHAAA!!!" He yelled, mouth so wide open that I could see his uvula vibrating.
'...COntrOl…. Control yourself… calm the situation down… think back to your job training, and de-escalate the situation.'
"Grr….. Okay! Okay…" I begin, trying to regain control of the situation, "..It SEEMS we've taken things too far here, alright? If I am understanding right," I wave my hand to the broke fellow to my side, "This guy here can not afford to pay right?"
"That is RIGHT; right, yes."
"....right. Well than…" I grimace, really thinking over my options. Ultimately… I just wanted to log off WITHOUT the fear of being taxed extra silver the next time I came by the smithy. What did he want? Obviously, he wanted his money. So….
I ball up my other hand, resist the urge to bite my lip, and place the hand over my breastplate. "I…I will pay for his repairs."
'There. That should be settled.' I turn to the broke customer, raising my eyebrow, challenging him to argue. "Anything else?" I ask through gritted teeth.
"..."
The customer peered down at me, his eyes locking onto mine.
And then my blood froze. And not for the first time today, either. No… Ironically…
It was those same red, swirling eyes.
PEERING.
DEEP.
Into the depths, of who I am.