Richter stretched out, and his hand grabbed for the line that swayed in front of him. He reached like a parched man for rain. In the seconds that his body moved through the air, the rope bobbed away slightly, and his heart seized in his chest. His eyes stayed glued to the plaited cord, refusing to look down again. The chaos seed’s lips curled back in a snarl as a shout built in his chest. As the fingers of his left hand wrapped around the rope, he bellowed, “Yessss!”
The rope slid through his fingers as gravity tried to kill him a final time, but he was able to secure a grip before he slid off of the end. His momentum made the coarse line sway like a pendulum. Once he reached the end of the swing, his body started swinging back towards the wall. Deciding to double down, Richter reached out with one hand and was able to grab the tip of his dagger’s hilt. The rope swung back towards the center of the pit again, and the dagger slid free of the wall!
He was going to live! And he had gotten his shit back! Richter quickly placed his moonstone dagger back into its belt sheath and grabbed the rope with both hands. His legs still hung free, but as he hung there, he threw his head back and laughed maniacally. “All I do is win!” he shouted up as his stamina bar grew close to bottoming out. The damn rope swayed back and forth and he heard a shout from the top of the pit as they started to pull him up. Richter wasn’t about to wait. In a feat of athleticism that he hadn’t even known he was capable of, the chaos seed started pulling himself up the rope using only the strength of his arms. His abused muscles trembled. An electric pain shot from his shoulders and up into his neck. He pushed through it, but his head began to grow foggy as his stamina entered single digits.
Knowing there was not much time left, Richter wrapped one leg around the rope and used his other leg to trap it. He freed one hand and reached into his Bag of Holding. Focusing on what he wanted to retrieve, a potion materialized in his hand. He brought it to his mouth and grabbed the top with his teeth. A slow pull was all it took to free the stopper. He spat it out and poured the green solution into his mouth. He almost cooed as sweet, blessed relief swept through his body. The stamina potion made the green bar on his interface start to rise. He dropped the glass vial into the abyss and tilted his head back as he was pulled back up out of the abyss. A smile of pure lassitude grew on his face, and he spoke quietly to the air around him, “Win, win, win no matter what!”
CHAPTER 2 – Day 140 – Kuborn 30, 15,386 EBG
As soon as he was over the lip of the pit, he rolled over three times. Richter didn’t care if it made him look ridiculous, he was absolutely NOT trusting the integrity of the earth right next to the hole. When he was what he considered a minimal safe distance away, he just lay on his back and looked up at the sky. His heart continued to thud in his chest.
Richter closed his eyes and took a deep breath. A moment later, he exhaled while thanking whatever gods might be listening. The chaos seed never thought he would be so thankful for the simple pleasure of gravity being his friend again. A familiar weight settled on his chest as Alma landed to comfort her master.
Only a few moments passed before a voice interrupted his peace and zen. “Are you just going to lay down all day? There is still work to do, you know.”
Richter cracked one eye and stared at Sion, “Do you know that I almost died down there?”
“I could always throw you back down the hole if you left your balls behind,” Sion retorted. “Do you seriously not hear all of that?”
Richter honestly had been blocking everything out, just happy to be alive, but then he heard what his friend was talking about. Muttered curses in goblin-speak, muted moans of pain, and an urgent voice speaking in the sprites’ tongue, “I have to speak with him!”
The irritation left Richter’s face. Sion was right. His own near-death experience aside, there were still things to be done. He sat up and Alma flew into the air. Richter looked around for the first time since the battle had ended. What he saw was a charnel house.
The dismembered and hacked bodies of dozens of goblins dotted the area. The inevitable scents of blood, piss, vomit and shit filled the air. Even though he had been through several battles over the past few months, the horrible smells and sights still surprised him. Severed arms and legs lay next to their previous owners, and large wounds showed spilled viscera out over the ground. The flies had already found the site and were buzzing around, delighted in their feast.
This was the part of the battles that had never been portrayed in movies and TV shows he used to watch. Richter was actually surprised that he had been able to ignore the noxious potpourri for even a few moments and wondered what that said about him. What it said about who and what he was becoming.
Unfortunately, the goblins were not the only fatalities. Three of his guards lay unmoving on the ground, never to rise again. As he looked around, Richter realized that no one had made it through the battle unscathed. Everyone sported minor, and in a few cases major, wounds. Caulder was leaning back against a tree, and blood ran freely down his face from a scalp wound. He was awake, thankfully, and was being tended to by one of the Life magi. Almost all of the sprites had suffered wounds as well, though thankfully they all still breathed.
As dismayed as he was at the deaths of his men, Richter was relieved that it hadn’t been worse. They had attacked a numerically superior force and destroyed them. If nothing else, the battle had proven what his grandfather had told him when he a child. The plain speaking, retired soldier had been telling old war stories and had impressed one point on his wide-eyed grandson: there is no replacement for training and superior weaponry.
Thinking of the gruff old man almost brought a smile to Richter’s face, but then he continued looking around. In addition to the death and blood, he saw that to his right several trees were on fire. The flames were already in the process of being quelled, however, by a single, isolated cloud that was raining on that exact spot. Without being told, the chaos seed knew that his Companion’s Air magic was to thank for that. Gentle Rain might not be of much use in combat, but the versatile spell was showing its value in quelling a potential forest fire. Richter was especially glad of the rainstorm seeing as how the fire was his fault. His Weak Fireball spell was more than effective, but Sion was right. It couldn’t be used in a forest without consequences.